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The Next Big Job

“Ah, this is the life,” Sheila said as she sipped coffee and grabbed a beignet, “It’s nice to actually set foot on Terra again.”

“Yeah,” Jacob said as he grabbed one, “but why did you have to drag us to this humid bug infested hell?”

“Watch your mouth,” Sheila said with a laugh, “You are talking about my homeland here.”

“What the fuck is in this coffee?” Jessie said with a sour face. “It tastes like ass.”

“It’s chicory and you just don’t know what’s good.”

“I like it,” T’sunk’al said as he took a sip while he nibbled some chocolate. “This chocolate is amazing! Why didn’t you bring me this stuff?”

“Because, my dear Z’uushling, chocolate isn’t illegal. If it were on the black market I could hook you up easy but I either had to grab whatever shit was laying around a spaceport or ask for a favor from a smuggler. If it had been drugs, guns, or nukes I could have gotten you the good stuff,” Sheila said.

“That’s incredibly funny,” T’sunk’al chortled as he picked up another truffle. “Are you sure our passengers are going to be ok?”

“Oh they’re good,” Eno said with a reassuring smile. “We dropped them off with the Red Cross and they will be transported to one of the refugee processing centers. I hear they are nice.”

“And,” Sheila said with a grin, “we ‘ensured’ that they will get priority as far as processing goes.”

She raised her mug.

“To corruption, one of our best friends.”

“Ah yes, good old corruption,” T’sunk’al said with a nasty click, “It’s nice to be on the right side of that for once.”

“Get used to it,” Sheila responded. “We like to ‘cultivate friendships’ wherever we go. It makes things go much more smoothly. It’s amazing what a few credits in the right places can do for you. Speaking of...” She said with a grin, “I think it’s about time we harvest a couple of those 'friendships'.”

“Oh?” Greg asked. “What do you have in mind?”

“Our next job.”

“What exactly do you propose?” Eno asked suspiciously. “I have learned to mistrust that particular smile.”

“Ladies, gentlemen, and Z'uushlings...I think it is time for us to hit the White Star.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Jacob asked in alarm. “Didn’t we decide that was too much to tackle?”

“We have already cased the thing and it wasn’t that we decided that it was too difficult,” Sheila said around mouthfuls of beignet, “We decided that it would draw too much heat on us. And now since we really can’t get much more wanted than we already are...”

“What’s the White Star?” T’sunk’al asked as he poured himself more coffee.

“It’s one of the biggest fanciest luxury star liners in the Federation,” Eno said, “It is worth… I don’t know… billions, maybe even trillions.”

“With everything in it I bet it’s worth more than a trillion easy,” Sheila said, her eyes glittering. “It’s a flying piggy-bank just waiting to get hammered.”

“Flying piggy-bank?” T’sunk’al asked in confusion.

“It’s a figure of speech,” Jessie said in her normal rapidly paced voice, “It means that there is a whole lot of money in there.”

“See,” Sheila said, “The White Star isn’t just a fancy high-dollar flying resort for the rich. It also has the distinction of never entering inhabited systems. To get to it you have to be flown there by one of its launches and its exact location is never disclosed. It’s its big gimmick. Absolute privacy without any hassles.”

She paused while she stuffed another beignet in her mouth.

“It’s a favorite with celebrities, the uber-rich, politicians, and last but not least wealthy fugitives.” Sheila, while happily bouncing up and down, continued. “That’s not all. People like to hide money there too. It has its own bank complete with a whole bunch of lovely encrypted numbered bank accounts and good old fashioned safety deposit boxes. And for dessert, there is even a lovely casino that will be a nice soft target even if we can’t crack that bank open. All we have to do there is put a gun to somebody’s head. Same goes for a slew of high-end shops and shit like that.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She swirled the last of her coffee in her mug.

“The thing is absolutely stuffed full of bounties, credits, and highly ransomable individuals.”

“And incredibly effective automated defenses, and a shitload of heavily armed guards, and literally thousands of automatic blast-proof doors, and probably tons of shit we don’t even know about,” Jacob said as he shook his head. “Taking it is impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible, sweetie. Where is that army spirit?” Sheila asked with a smile.

“That army spirit is exactly where it needs to be. Keeping our asses alive and out of the joint.”

“Speaking of,” Sheila said to Jessie, “exactly how hot are we?”

“Hang on,” Jessie says as she pulls out her tablet, “Just have to get to a hyperspace terminal… Annnnd access Federation police… Gonna be a minute...” She says as she sets her tablet down on the table and grabs more beigniets.

The gang debated back and forth about the sanity of going after the White Star as the minutes passed. About an hour later Jessie’s tablet beeped.

“Ah! Here we go!” Jessie said as she read the results, “Oh we are pretty goddamn hot. We are so hot that all arrest warrants and bounties have been pulled.”

“Oh, shit. We really did it this time,” Eno says as he flagged down a waitress. “Excuse me, ma’am, could I get some coffee without the chicory?”

“Sure thing,” the Kalesha said brightly and scooched off.

“Why did they pull our arrest warrants?” T’sunk’al asked. “One would think they would add more.”

“Oh they would if they wanted us arrested,” Sheila said with a chuckle, “They don’t want us arrested anymore. They want us dead. The police are off the case and Fed Intel is on it. This is gonna be fun!”

“We have a difference of opinion as to what constitutes fun,” Jacob said with a wince.

“I can certainly see the appeal,” T’sunk’al said calmly as he sipped his coffee. “Less chance of minor hassles and when we do run into ‘an issue’,” he said making air quotes with his manipulators, “We won’t have the entire system searching for us like we would if we killed a cop. Besides, I would feel really bad about killing an honest police officer just trying to do his job but wasting a fucking Fed? I think I could live with that.”

“See!” Sheila exclaimed happily, “Ol’ Eight-Eyes over here gets it!”

“I’m still voting against it,” Jacob said with more than enough quiet nods from the others to kill the plan.

“There is one more reason why I want to do this and do it now. Jessie, tell ‘em.”

“Oh right,” Jessie babbled with a grin, “I have it on good authority that none other than Councilor Morgan, you know, the asshole who really pushed the whole fucking war... That asshole? He is about to get his pee-pee stomped 'cause of the stuff that we leaked. He is hiding from a Federation inquest at this very moment. Anyone want to guess where?”

Everyone looked at each other for a few moments.

“Ok,” Jacob said with sigh, “If and I mean if we do this we have to do it right. We need a plan and it needs to be a fucking good one.”

“Well, let’s get started then,” Sheila said with a wolfish grin.

***

Cyrus Red was standing outside of his limousine with six of his henchmen in a deserted Capital City construction site when Morgana Farstan appeared out of the shadows.

“I have to hand it to you,” Cyrus said, “You gotta a lot of balls showing up here.”

“Well,” Morgana said with a pleasant smile, “We have some things to discuss.”

“You shoot up my guys and mess with my business? You are goddamn right we have something to discuss, like why I don’t show you why we are called the Red-Teeth.”

“Yeah, yeah, you used to eat people during the Sol Wars… boring,” Morgana replied, “You have a lot of balls just showing up with just six people.”

At that moment half a dozen vans drove into the lot at high speed.

“Now that is a bit more interesting,” Morgana said with a soulless smile.

***

“That bitch is fucking crazy,” Jak’kul’sha quietly buzzed.

“No argument here. Shit goes south she’s dead before we can even pull a trigger,” Bal’sur’kala said as he adjusted the scope on his sniper rifle.

“What do we do if that happens?” Mul’sha’kal asked.

“I’ll tell you what we do,” Jak’kul’sha whispered, “We put a fifty caliber slug in her head for good measure and split.” He turned to Ray’shel’zun. “That mic that Brainiac made? Is it picking everything up?”

“Works like a charm.” Ray’shel’zun replied.

“You sure they won’t detect it?” Jak’kul’sha quietly asked.

“Give me some credit,” Bal’sur’kala scoffed. “I seriously doubt they have the right stuff on hand to properly analyze that beam’s wavelength and modulation. It should just look like background noise from all the communicators in the city. They are much more likely to pick up your bitching so please for the love of the creators shut the fuck up.”

***

“So, bitch, what do you want?” Cyrus said as a few dozen of his men surround Morgana.

“Not much,” She replied, “I want Sheila Donovan. I understand you can get her for me.”

“What? You fuck with me just to get to that bitch?” Cyrus spat, “You’re fucking crazy.”

“That observation has been made more than once,” Morgana laughed, “Now you are going to lure her in or I am going to take apart your entire organization piece by fucking piece.”

“Ok, stun this bitch. We are going to have a bar-b-”

Morgana flicked her wrist and as she did the head of the guy right next to Cyrus exploded into a fine mist.

“Fuck!” Cyrus yelled as he dove for cover. “Hold your fire!”

“Have you and your little friends been vaccinated against type six hyper-accelerated staph aureus?” she asked as she pulled out an aerosol grenade with a large bio-hazard symbol on it. “I have, just in preparation for this little meet and greet. I understand this stuff is kind of nasty.”

Everybody froze as the pin hit the ground with a little “plink”.

“Ok… ok… just calm down,” Cyrus said as he got back to his feet.

“Feel like actually having a reasonable discussion now?” Morgana asked.

“Look, lady,” Cyrus said dusting off his suit, “I can’t just whistle and have Sheila show up like a dog. I have to set up a meet and that takes time.”

“Ok, you have a week. I’ve been playing nice up until now,” Morgana said, “Next week... Next week things get really fucked up.”

She picked up the grenade pin and then turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows. Cyrus snarled and turned to his men.

“Find out who that cunt is and find out who is working for her,” he said breathing heavily. “And get me in touch with Sheila. I want to talk to that bitch.”