Slev's gaze quickly shifted from one cloth-obscured vehicle to the next in anticipation. "Reaper, this is huge if any of these scrap heaps, even Fly, that's worth more money than we have made combined so far!"

Slev jogged over to the edge of the showroom and pulled on the loosely placed tarp, revealing its hidden treasure.

Reaper chuckled, “Sir scans indicate this is a..."

"Yeah, I know." Before them, sitting at an unhealthy angle, lay the remains of a bright white, mangled alien food truck. Its squid-like mascot drooping limply from a spring on top of the craft. Slev chuffed and repeated the process on the other unknown craft in the showroom.

Every single freaking one was some kind of ruined, smashed, or flattened Vendor vehicle. One of them the largest one in the far corner. Had a deep blue and purple pearlescent paint job and looked as though it was capable of space flight. However, the crumpled cockpit and completely scavenged engines quickly dissuaded him of his brief hope upon seeing it.

Slev glanced over at the deeply pitted surface of the small, bright red hover car in the display window. “If that hunk of junk works, we can at least cover our next payment to the guild. It looks sporty, sporty means expensive, right?”

Slev was starting to feel a bit desperate again. He had only been covering the monthly loan repayments and managing to feed himself. "Ah, fuck it, this is a crime den right? Reaper, I am going to do a full walk-through, sweep for valuables.”

As Slev began purposefully walking up a hallway he hadn’t surveyed yet, Reaper chimed in. “Ehem.. sir, the schematics show a full garage area we have not seen yet.”

“That...yep, that makes sense. Let's go check it first."

The halls leading to the garage were a mishmash of half-used office spaces, strewn with little personal touches. One office in particular was filled floor to ceiling with dramatic paintings of ocean vistas on multiple alien worlds. Several offices had the walls knocked out and combined into one rather large tinker's workshop.

Partially assembled drones stretched across long tables. He could even see part of another partially constructed turret assembly. If Slev had any idea how to cart that out without anyone noticing, he would do it in a heartbeat. But it was hardwired into multiple terminals and appeared to also have a biometric lock of some kind installed at a cursory glance.

Reluctantly, he finished his trek to the far side of the building and saw large metal sliding doors, thankfully unlocked. Slev stopped at the door and placed a cold gauntlet on it. "Please, something good,” he whispered. With a light shove, the door slid open, revealing a mechanics shop. Large lifts were strategically placed along the rust-colored floors. The walls were lined with portions of engines and circuitry taken from the carcasses of others. There in the middle of this technological confluence. A lone Star-ship lay gleaming.

It's shape was that of a horseshoe made of nothing but carefully calculated angles. A large cockpit was mounted on the inside apex of the bend, and the single most over sized engine array Slev had ever seen on a craft this size covered the outside of the curved apex. He could see sharp lines below the engines, suggesting a loading ramp of some kind opened from there. With how thick the forward-swept “wings” were, there might be a living quarters too. Slev almost tripped on his own feet, rushing up to the side of HIS new craft.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He placed a tentative glove on the smooth exterior. His new ship was painted in a rather entrancing array of pure, gleaming white, with accents of green around most of the harsh edges. Even further past that, whoever had painted this exquisite entity had gone with some kind of copper and gold material for all of the unpainted bits of metal. Such as the thruster cowlings and the cockpit's metal bracing. The extravagantly done detailing gave it a rather royal bearing.

Slev had no idea what kind of ship this was. His first impression was a custom racer; those were popular among the gangs on Tansental. But it was far too large for that and would have simply been a pop-open cockpit with room for one if that was its intended use. In a jolting moment of clarity, Slev pulled his hand from the side of the ship and rushed towards the loading dock at the rear. Slev needed to get this ship the hell out of here, right now. There was no way that Orima knew something like this was here when she made her “generous” offer.

Slev waved his hand in front of the small screen on the loading bay door. It chimed acknowledgment at his presence and then promptly asked for a password. "Well, I suck at hacking. Reaper, any suggestions?"

“A tow truck, sir?” he asked mockingly.

“That's not a bad idea, actually, you little shit." Slev flipped open the panel on his left vambrace, revealing the compact screen hidden inside. With a deft flurry of his fingers, he found the contact he was looking for, Otto. Otto was a Chtulian nightmare of tentacles, eyes, and blood-colored fur, he was also the only actual friend Slev had made in this corporate wasteland.

So with a quick hand gesture, he sent Otto his coordinates and a brief outline of what he needed to move.

He was exceptionally lucky that his friend and roommate was, this planet's equivalent of an overqualified repo man. Otto was the squishy little monster that took back everything from ground vehicles to star-ships. After people missed a few too many payments to the corporations. Or just as commonly, got fired and didn't want to return their work provided wheels.

Otto pulled up a surprisingly short time later in some kind of massive hauling vehicle that he squeezed into the entrance of the hangar/garage. The familiar blood-red eyes of his friend poked out of the driver's window. “Human! Good to see! To Home garage?" Slev boggled at the fact that Otto had said all of that in broken Terran. The little guy was frighteningly smart. He had only been practicing for a month.

"Otto, this falls under the not supposed to have category. So let's be quick and avoid checkpoints." Slev pulled his considerable armored bulk into the passenger seat, almost jumping back on reflex as Otto swung several tentacles to gently suction onto his helm in greeting.

Slev chuckled heartily and carefully reached out to gently pat Otto's red-furred head. Seven of Otto's deep crimson eyes focused on him as he spoke, “Not supposed to have yet! Will fix, Far too nice. cover tarp, then load, then home." Slev puzzled through that statement for a moment before understanding his meaning. Gathering tarps to at least partly obscure the incredibly conspicuous craft after it was loaded.

The trip home was tense, but thankfully without any issues. They had wound their way around the nearest spire of a city. sticking to the mega lanes that snaked across the planet's surface and had a relatively clear shot to Otto's workshop/home. Ottos Lost and Found was a squat building rising three stories up from the very bottom floor, of the Edges of the central city on Tansental. They could see the swamplands bubbling in the near distance as Otto maneuvered the large transport into the crowded Fenced in lot behind his workshop.

Beginning the rather delicate task of unloading a twenty five meter spacecraft safely. The workshop itself was an eclectic mix of hacking tools, cutting implements, and standard repair equipment. Everything Otto needed to break into something and then fix it again before delivering it to its new home. The workshop covered the entirety of the bottom two floors. With an out-of-place ornate glass elevator in the corner. Stolen from a cruise ship at some point, it led to the housing on the third floor.

Slev made his way to the familiar elevator with a pained grunt. The painkillers Reaper had pumped into him during the fight were wearing off. He examined his armor's reflection in the glass as he made his way up. There was a neat, half-fist sized chunk blown out of his chest plate. That turret had come far too close to killing him. If he hadn't used that poor Choroke guard and the desk for cover... It was interesting being a human here in the dizzying array of life on offer in the galaxy.

He was stronger or tougher than most everything around him by a vast margin. The very few sentient species that outstripped his raw strength or toughness, well, he was a hell of a lot faster and smarter than all of those lumbering saps. He idly rubbed his pained chest and took a moment to remind himself that technology is one hell of an equalizer.

Slev stepped out of the elevator into the arboreum of the main rooms. Otto came originally from a jungle planet, and his home reflected it. There were vines and teal alien trees smattered all about through the main walkway. He made it past the obstacle course of the entrance hall and stepped into the living room. One large tree filled the center of the space with comfortable couch-like seating hanging from its branches, resting just above the floor. He glanced out the plate window that had replaced the entirety of the living room wall. It was nice to have a view, even if it was of a bubbling alien swamp Slev thought.

With a relieved sigh, Slev pried himself out of his reaper armor. Just leaving it to lie where it fell next to the tree, and laid down on one of the gently rocking sofas.