The metal of the skid ground against the metal of the floor, and for a few moments Stk’shzsk considered cursing. He wouldn’t, of course, not in the presence of such an important haul - that would taint the purity of what he carried. Instead, he grumbled at the uneven flooring and slowly clicked the skid into reverse, walking it back from the divot in the floor. On his rented skid sat wide and top-heavy a pile of… well, crap, if we’re being honest. With love and care a made mattress lay flat on the bottom of the pile, with piled upon it flattened and wrinkled clothing, then food wrappers, then books and boxes and tables sandwiching chairs and bags of styrofoam and actual warmcuddle food that was both perishable and non-perishable and pillows and blankets and appliances an-

Stk’shzsk mentally stopped himself from going any further as he found himself wiggling in place at the sheer amount of warmcuddle paraphernalia. He knew it was going to be a big haul when he pulled out those balled up socks, but to see that they were actually shipping half-eaten food and used warmcuddle clothing, that was -

- That was when he alerted Blood. There were wealthy …people who had certain tastes that would pay hefty GRC to get some “authentic” warmcuddle merchandise. Stuff that couldn’t be, ah, replicated. NOT THAT HE WOULD KNOW, of course! Just that he knew of them, that’s all.

He wasn’t a deviant and did not support that lifestyle! Warmcuddles are for hugs not fuggs!

…but he’d sell to those people though. GRC is GRC, and all the better to take a deviant’s money. Once Blood was actually appraised on the situation, he personally stopped by to coordinate and to take the more expensive things out. Stk’shzsk made sure to negotiate a much higher pay as he was now not only salvaging but appraising, and Blood was… well. Agreeable. Surprisingly so, given that all Stk’shzsk negotiated away were the used goods, half of the electronics and the odd terminal that took out part of the floor with it. Apparently one of Bile’s subordinates realized that terminal was a Technology Thing™, and therefore needed to be stolen and scrapped for the greater good.

Stk’shzsk clicked the skid into the forward position, and angling the handlebar changed it’s direction around the divot in the floor. He mentally shrugged once the floor-divot-danger was gone: he had his rightful haul, and then some. Stk’shzsk knew better than to lie to one of the bosses - that’s how you get kicked out or killed - but he did ask for a significant “pay” raise. If he was a lesser man, the goods he hauled away would pay for a very comfortable life for him and his brother in a civilized world... but that would require selling them. And since he was not a lesser man, his trophies would stay with him for the rest of time.

With a squeaking, grinding noise he squeezed the brake on the handlebars, the machine slowly coming to a halt in the cramped corridor outside of his doors. Carefully, gently, he slid around his loot tower, making sure not to push too much of it off of the soft base mattress in the smaller space as he fiddled with his lock. His living quarters were a bit further away from the main hubs of activity, and Stk’shzsk didn’t mind living in the periphery. Sure, it was a bit of a grinding underscale to get to chow hall, or to go to his shift, or to participate in group activities, but he… didn’t want to. At least, he told himself he didn’t want to, and that was enough of that. He and his brother and a few other loners would settle in the outer rooms, and be left to their own peace, and it was... ok. Lonely, but OK.

Better than the alternative.

His lock cycled clear, and his door slowly slid open, revealing his pretty spartan yet relatively large living quarters; a sand bed, some electronic entertainment, atmo, power and water. Everything that wasn’t carved out of or into the rock he had cobbled together himself, and so had a makeshift kitchen, a serviceable restroom, and a shrine to the one thing that brought him joy: warmcuddles.

And oh, how that shrine would grow. He smiled, wide, in spite of himself, as he stood in the doorway before his skid, and began to unpack.

= = = =

The Jornissian man paced in place while making his argument, arms swinging wide as he reached the deneumont. “” Blood said, tapping a pile of reports an inch thick. “”

Brains thought for a moment, taking a sip of hot tea. She wasn’t particularly thirsty, but buying this time did two things: One, it allowed her to put her thoughts into a more diplomatic order, and two, it also calmed down the man in front of her; without an immediate reaction his fiery stance turned into a flickering flame, and he settled back down in his seat. Passions were good for bed, but rarely discussion.

“” Brains lowered her glass to her torso, gently turning the mug around in her hands as she spoke. “” Brains thought back to a certain captive Captain, and what she said in the private halls.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

‘We wait.’

“” Blood said, tilting his head 90 degrees to the side to gain a new perspective.

“” Brains said, shaking the errant worry loose. “”

Blood leaned back in his chair, letting his coils sink into the seat-pit below him. “”

Brains flicked the side of her cup with a finger, the metallic ring echoing in the office. “”

“<-’but needs help with six.’ Yes, I know, but the version I heard was jobs.>” Blood said, rolling his jaw. “”

“” Brains shrugged her hood as she too sank into the offered seat, taking another slow sip of her tea. She finished her drought, and held the cup up to her lips and continued to talk, steam rising into her mouth with every breath. “”

“”

“” Brains, in an uncharacteristically un-ladylike gesture uncoiled her tongue and let it rest in her tea, swirling the mixture before popping back into her mouth. “” Brains took another sip of her tea, before lowering it to her lap. “”

Blood frowned. “”

Brains made an “exactly” gesture with her shoulder. “”

“” Blood continued, pointing his hand in thinking accusation at the reports on his desk. “”

Brains made the exact same shoulder gesture, and Blood sighed. “”

“” Brains said, placing her mostly-empty cup on the table between them. “”

“” Blood said without hesitation, pulling the reports down from the table onto his lap. “”

“” Brains said with slight surprise as she got up, sliding out of her seat and towards the exit. “”

“” Blood said, taking out a black marker and striking through sections of the paper before him. “”

“” Brains said, smiling. “”

“” Blood asked, sharpie marker already making lines through a new page. “