----------------------------------------
On the settlement's outskirts, the claustrophobic street widened out. Sparse buildings, much wider than the cramped facades in the town center, lined the path, which turned into a dirt trail through the trees half a mile further away.
"Is that it?" Luci asked.
The one-story concrete building had sloped walls and was built low to the ground like some kind of fortified bunker. The entrance was a big square block sticking out of the front, with a red awning covering the door. Above it, a sign announced the place was 'Selman's Bazaar'. Next to the building, large crates were stacked up behind chain-link fences with camouflage netting covering the top. A handful of mercenaries sat around, keeping an eye on everything. They looked up as Blaze approached, then instantly lost interest.
Hey, I'm a badass too!
He put a little swagger into his strut. Kicked his legs out sharper, swung his shoulders wider. Stamped a cool scowl on his face. Made sure anybody who dared to gaze upon his confident attitude just had to pay attention to him—
Putting on a burst of speed, blew past and pulled away from them like she was leading their way. She hustled towards the front door.
Where does she think she's going? Blaze thought.
"When we get inside," she announced, "I'm handling the no-go-tiations."
Rsh called, "Philomena …!"
But she ignored him and strode into the building, leaving the rest of them in the dust.
"W-Wait up!" Luci said, scurrying after her.
Blaze looked at Rsh and rolled his eyes, and Rsh returned it.
On the inside, the bazaar looked like a warehouse. Bare concrete floor, metal beams, dark rafters. Only a few banners hanging on the walls provided some color. The lights were a dim, moody blue, like the planet outside. Boxes were piled up high to the ceiling, offering wholesale supplies. The smaller stuff sat on unadorned tables and shelves. To make the place look more accommodating, mannequins in action poses stood in fake little field command posts under camouflage netting, surrounded by equipment with price tags dangling from them.
So much merc-spec equipment everywhere, Blaze thought. Be cool, don't start drooling over anything.
A portly man stuck his head out of the back room. When he spotted them, a big smile pushed his cheeks up and widened the humongous mustache, its ends curling up into fine points, sprouting from his face. He slipped out of the back room, his arms spread wide, and approached like they were old pals.
"Welcome, my friends, welcome! From the mundane to the bizarre, you can find it all at Selman's Bazaar! I am Selman Khann. Please, tell me how I can help you."
Philomena strutted out in front of everybody.
This oughta be good, Blaze thought, folding his arms.
"Hello," she said. "We need supplies."
Clapping his hands together, the owner said, "Of course, of course. Tell me what you need."
She sucked down a deep lungful of air, but it got caught in her throat. She froze, the gleam in her eye going dark. Like somebody had shoved her onstage without giving her a script. Blaze lowered his head to hide the savage smirk on his lips.
"Um …"
Rsh edged past her and blocked the sorry sight of her fumbling failure from view. "Standard complement of foodstuffs."
Philomena circled around Rsh's bulk and stood next to him, nodding firmly. "We need that," she added.
"Mhmm," the owner replied, his eyes flitting between the two of them. His hands were still clapped together.
"High-grade explosives," Rsh said.
"That too," Philomena added.
"Of course, of course," the owner replied.
"Spare starship parts—"
A sharp intake of air rushed through the owner's grimacing lips. He leaned back, rocking on his heels, and put his hands up to ward off the request. "I'm sorry, my friend. I-I don't deal in starship parts. They're much too hot right now."
Rsh asked, "Explosives are not an issue … yet spare parts are?"
The owner, Selman, turned away and headed behind the counter, towards a computer terminal. "QualMart is making it very risky to deal in starship parts right now."
At the mention of that name, Blaze, Rsh, and Luci let out a shared, exasperated groan of disgust.
"They're trying to shut down the aftermarket," Luci said. "So people are forced to fly to the nearest store and get their ship repaired at the … the damn service center."
Blaze scoffed bitterly.
"There must be some … recourse," Rsh stated, stepping up to the counter.
"Yeah," Luci added. "There's no QualMart around here, so people would be trapped on this planet if their ships broke down."
Selman, who was typing into the terminal, paused and looked up with an apologetic smile. "Oh, there is, but …" He exhaled like a doctor telling somebody he'd have to amputate their leg. "There's one person in town who deals in starship parts. An old business partner of mine. We came out here together to found this place, but when I chose to stop selling starship parts, he bought the inventory off me and set up his own store."
"Brave man," Luci said.
"More stubborn than brave," Selman replied. "John Farouk is his name. He is not an easy man to do business with, I must say. But I'm afraid you have no other choice. So, I wish you the best of luck in dealing with him, my friends."
"We shall … keep that in mind," Rsh said. After taking a deep breath, he continued, "First, the food."
"Yes, of course." Selman consulted the terminal one last time, then gestured for Rsh to follow him to a door. He opened it via the intrapanel, revealing the yard outside. "Let me show you what I have in stock. This way, please."
As Rsh strode to the door, Philomena hurried after him and then slipped past him, reaching the door first. But she was trying not to look like she was hurrying at all, which gave her an extremely funny-looking walk. Her upper body leaned back, head raised, bent arms stiffly pumping while keeping her elbows tucked to her sides. Meanwhile, her feet pattered rapidly on the floor without committing themselves to a full run. She awkwardly hustled through the door, and Rsh followed just behind her, shaking his head.
You moron, Blaze thought.
When the door closed behind them, Blaze and Luci shared a half-smile, and then went their separate ways. Aimless, Blaze wandered through the blue-tinted store, hunting for anything interesting …
Black silhouettes in front of opaque white light panels on the wall caught his eyes. Awestruck, he glided towards the rack like a moth to a flame.
Oh, that's a Snapdragon X21, with a Turbodyne repeater!
And a Kessler & Kitt ZMR! One bolt has enough energy to blast through the skin of a Zoorbian slog-weasel! A bunch of mercs I follow on social media swear by them!
Hey, and that's an Aldebaran Arms Solar Flare! It burns twice as hot as a normal pistol. Sure, it's bulky, but it needs all that extra coolant to keep from melting!
Oh, I'm in gunslinger heaven …
As he drooled over the blaster pistols on display, Blaze thought, If I had one of these bad boys, everybody would take me seriously as a mercenary!
"My friend!" Selman said, his voice coming over Blaze's shoulder.
A little shaken, Blaze thought, Man, he took me by surprise. I didn't even hear any footsteps. How long has he been standing there? For that matter, how long have I been standing here?
I hope I didn't have a stupid look on my face …
Turning his face into a steely mask, Blaze squinted shrewdly at the guns on display and shifted his weight so he could stand confident, with his hands on his cocked hips. The owner clapped his hand on Blaze's back and gazed at the rack alongside him.
"You like what you see?" Selman asked.
"It's a pretty good selection, I reckon," Blaze replied. "Bit of a surprise, seeing so many quality pistols this far out."
"Out here, there are many people with discerning taste, such as yourself. And Selman's Bazaar is here for you. I know my market. You want it? You need it? I have it. Come, tell me exactly what it is you're looking for."
Studying the guns, Blaze shifted his jaw and pulled his pressed lips around in a circle. "Hmm … I'm looking for something with a lot of boom, you know?"
Selman gave him a vigorous nod, with an impish smile that said, 'I know exactly what you mean.' He pulled away from Blaze, strode along the wall to another weapons rack, and plucked a blaster rifle off its hooks. The rifle had a hefty body, but it was sheared by forty-five degrees, making the whole thing seem extremely sleek. There was something punchy about it, like it was leaning into a headwind to ram a fist into somebody's face. Its ergonomic grip jutted out at a perfect diagonal. It matched the shear's angle. So did the serrated slats for dispersing heat.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The weapon was lit from one side by the opaque light coming from the back of the weapons rack and from the other side by the pale blue light filling the shop. The contrast between the two colors shining on its matte black finish made it look so… advanced. Like something you'd see in a promo for cutting-edge technology.
That's a …
That's a …!
Selman faced Blaze, the rifle in his hands. His eyebrow arched upward.
"You like?" he asked.
"Th-That's a VK-76! The 'Victory Cry'!"
"My friend, this has got so much boom you feel like you have a nuclear missile between your legs. You pull the trigger, the bang is so big, you start a whole new universe!"
Blaze shuddered. Gunslingers like him usually lived and died by their blaster pistols, but … He imagined his hands slipping around that sleek behemoth. Caressing its grip, running his fingers along its edges, lifting its weight to his shoulder and sliding his hands around the underbarrel grenade launcher … giving its girth a playful squeeze, before digging it and holding it steady as all that explosive power shot out of its barrel …
Oh, yeah.
Hey, get a hold of yourself!
Recoiling, Blaze snapped his slack jaw shut. The sound of his teeth clicking together traveled through his skull. He wiped the stupid, fawning look off his face and replaced them with a squinty scowl.
"It's a fine rifle," he said.
Selman held it out. Offering that beautiful beast to Blaze. His hands trembled as they anticipated touching it.
"Want to hold it?" Selman asked.
Gulping, Blaze inched forward, raising his hands and cupping them to bear the weight of its thundering power …
Then his path was blocked by fabric and copper hair, just a few inches in front of his outstretched hands.
"Ahem!" the blundering moron said. "Since you're not busy, let's talk business."
"Err, yes?" Selman, hidden behind her, asked.
"I own a mining company, and we do lots of mining. Jewels, gold. Pretty things. We're very successful."
"I see."
"But we need explosives to get our pretty things out of the ground. We need a lot of boom. You see, my company don't have enough boom right now. It's a big— Or, actually, a small problem."
Blaze pulled his hands away before the urge to throttle her from behind overwhelmed him.
"I imagine it would be," Selman replied.
"As chief executive, I'll handle no-go-tiations for the explosives."
"Oh, of course, of course! Given how successful you are, I can only presume money is no object?"
"Nope!"
She doesn't even know what that means, does she? Blaze thought.
He circled around her and grinned at Selman, refusing to look at the idiot next to him no matter how much he pointedly aimed his words at her.
"Where's Rsh?"
Selman hung the rifle back onto its rack, making Blaze's heart ache. I could've held that beautiful thing in my very own hands …
"Your Zantauran friend? Inspecting a palette of bulk food supplies."
"I see. Well, he's got a head for numbers, and I reckon we should wait for him."
"Not a problem," Philomena said to Selman, her teeth gritted together, not looking at Blaze either. "I also have a head for numbers."
Smirking, Blaze said, "Only up to ten, though."
She exhaled like a fuming dragon, then stuffed double the good cheer into her voice. "Ha ha, don't pay any attention to him. I don't! He's just the manual labor. Now, show me what you got!"
"Very well."
They followed Selman as he walked back to the counter. Along the way, Philomena brushed against Blaze. Startled, she recoiled from the touch, and then slammed his side with her body to try and knock him away from her. Why, that little … He slammed her right back and made her bash her thigh on a display table. Giving her a side-eye, he noticed her scowling at the air right in front of her. She's gonna refuse to look at me? Well, that suits me just fine. I don't want to look at her face anyway.
Behind the counter, Selman typed a command into his terminal.
"I don't keep the explosives on-site … for obvious reasons."
Blaze walked up to the counter, the spiteful woman burning with rage next to him, and they both watched Selman study the screen. Except for when their arms brushed, and Blaze blasted her with a fiery sidelong scowl.
"Unfortunately, I don't carry mining explosives," Selman said. "Will merc-spec do?"
The woman shrugged her shoulders a few times while she pretended to think over something she didn't have the first clue about.
"Sure, those'll do."
Blaze rolled his eyes.
"Excellent! I have a crate of DynaStar high-yield plastic explosives for 4,690vx."
"We'll take it!" Philomena said.
"We shall not."
As Rsh's booming voice filled the shop, they all turned to watch him approach the counter. Although his face was as impassive as ever, Blaze knew him well enough to notice the extra bit of suspicion that made his brow crease just a little bit more. Luci poked her head over a shelf and, seeing the rest of the company gathered, wandered over.
"That is … higher than market price," Rsh said. "Much higher."
"My friend, you know your explosives."
"I research … before I buy."
Philomena made a wet, throaty, hissing sound.
"The food is expensive too," Rsh added.
Sucking air through his nose, with that 'about to deliver some bad news' tone, Selman looked down and spread his arms out with his palms up. Presenting himself with dignity to his customers for their abuse.
"I have no interest in price-gouging, but my hands are tied, I'm afraid. You've seen the piracy alert for this region, I presume?"
"Yes."
"Those bastards are disrupting the supply lines to this region. I have no choice but to raise my prices, due to the risk."
"Hm," Rsh said, relaxing his tone. "I understand."
"Say, partner, you know why the bounty on them is so high?" Blaze asked.
Selman looked at them, weighing something in his mind. Then, with a sigh, he offered them an explanation.
"QualMart," he said.
Blaze, Rsh, and Luci all groaned in unison.
"Chain stores do not operate out here, on the frontier. Not enough people, lack of security, impossible to get insurance. But still, the reach of QualMart is very wide."
"Their spy network," Rsh said.
"Correct. Many cargo haulers buy supplies from QualMart to resell out here. Their captains also make money on the side by informing for them. Keeping them up to date on what is going on. Somehow — I don't know how — the pirates know who is doing this."
"So they're going after QualMart's spies?" Luci asked.
"That's right."
Luci chuckled. "Now I kind of wanna root for the pirates."
"They also shove the crews out the airlock into space."
After shivering and swallowing heavily, Luci said, in a voice tinier than she was, "Oh."
"So QualMart wants to find who's tattling and shut them up for good," Blaze replied.
"Yes," Selman said.
Forcing bravado into his voice, Blaze said, "Well, I reckon that's one way to go about it."
Rsh stared at the floor while he ran his big fingers down his chin. The wheels spun inside his head, and Blaze wasn't sure where they were taking him. Then he raised his head and fixed his fearsome face on Selman.
"Excuse us," he said. "Company meeting."
"Of course, my friend."
The four of them moved away from the counter and huddled up in a circle.
"What are you thinking?" Blaze asked.
"We cannot afford all we need."
"Figured as much."
"However …"
Blaze, Luci, and the chief idiot of the company watched him closely as he wrestled with his thoughts.
"The pirates …"
Luci gulped loud enough that Blaze could hear it.
"May be selling their stolen goods … for cheap."
Luci gulped again, even louder. Though her voice stayed low, it rose up into a fever pitch until it cracked. "Ay caray, you want to go looking for them?!"
"It may save money."
"It's—!"
Her eyes flashed around the circle and landed on Philomena's face. Then, staring down at the floor, she shrugged and settled her body's frightful trembling. Her eyes rolled around to peer at the Zantauran towering over her. Her voice, though calmer, was still on the verge of cracking.
"Heh. Heh heh. Heh heh heh. You sure that's a good idea?"
"No. However … it may be the best … of many bad ideas."
Pumping an authoritative tone into his voice, Blaze said, "Now, I'm not saying I can't handle a bunch of pirates — because I can — but let's just reckon we take the moral high ground and don't encourage that sort of thing. If we take out the cost of food, starship parts, fuel, everything else we need … how much we got left for explosives?"
"At these prices?"
Drawing a deep, elongated sigh, Rsh opened his wallet and went through the plastic cards tucked inside it. Then he held up a tiny stack of valex in his huge hand. Calling such a paltry handful of cash 'pocket change' was being overly charitable.
"That's it?!" Luci asked.
"Yes," Rsh replied.
"No problem," Philomena said happily, plucking the valex out of his hand. "I said I'd handle the no-go-tiation. Just watch me."
She started to stride away from the circle, but Blaze shot his hand out and snagged her upper arm. Nostrils flaring, she swung towards him.
"What kind of stupid idea you got in your brain?" he asked.
She hoisted a fake smile onto her face. "Corvo, you're the one who told me to read that article about last year's most game-changing executive memos on my own. So I did!" She yanked her arm out of his grasp. "Maybe you should try it sometime. You might learn a thing or two about no-go-tiating."
She strode to the counter, placed her hand on its surface, and leaned against it with a sly smile on her lips. Selman returned it warmly and waited for her to speak.
"Selman. See, we're a very successful mining company. We have lots of jewels and gold and silver and things like that."
"Of course."
"But, um, right now all our money is in the bank. And there's no branches out here, you know."
"Right …"
"Now, we could go all the way back to Point Pleasant, get the money from the bank, and then come all the way back here. But that'd be an awful big hassle, wouldn't it? Or … this could be the start of a very fabulous business relationship. If you know what I mean. It'd make me very happy if we struck a deal where we didn't have to fly halfway across the universe to visit the bank. I might even shop at this nice little place again. So let's talk, and see if we can agree on something that makes us both happy."
"Hmm. Well, tell me what you have in mind."
Smiling, Philomena said, "I'm glad you've come to the table." She dropped the valex on the counter and slid it over to him with her index finger, still smiling. "How much explosives can we get for this?"
Selman looked down at the stack, up at her face, down at the stack again. He breathed in through his nostrils, then exhaled slowly. He turned around and headed for a door to the back room.
"I'll see what I can do," he said.
As he disappeared, Philomena flashed a grin and a thumb's up at her employees. Leaning against the counter, she waited for him to come back out. He came back out about thirty seconds later. Shuffled up to the counter. Returned her smile with that 'bad news' face. With a grimace carved into his laugh lines, he raised his hand, and …
Laid a single hand grenade down on the counter.
All four members of Kestrel Mining leaned over the counter and stared at the six-inch long metal cylinder, topped with a lever, then tilted their heads up and stared into Selman's sad smile.
"My apologies, my friends. That's the best I can do."
Philomena said, "Uhh …"
"Also! I should warn you … This model was recalled for being defective. There is a fifty-fifty chance this is a dud."
Philomena's smile dropped into a lopsided gawp.
Suddenly, Selman pushed both the valex and the grenade across the counter to them. He closed his eyes and shook his head widely from side to side.
"No, please. Take it, take it. On the house. My gift to you."
Philomena lifted the grenade off the counter and stared at it.
Stiffly, she said, "Gl-Glad we could agree …" Then she turned and shoved it into Blaze's hands. "Here you go, Corvo. Have some boom, for once in your life. Or maybe not. Fifty-fifty chance!"
Rsh stepped up to the counter, plucking valex out of his wallet. "For now, we shall purchase … the food."
"Of course, my friend, of course. I'll have it delivered to your ship. And, uh … the explosives?"
The question made Rsh pause, his fingers tightening on the money in his hand.
"We have not … decided."
----------------------------------------