Page 5 of Found Treasure Bride

4

Jakrah

“Grwauhhnnnn!”

“Yeah, I know, I know. You fucking told me that one day my gambling would catch up to me.”

Grorsch folded his arms across his chest, giving me a nod while wearing his best “I fucking told you so, moron!” look.

“Look, I just want you to tell me if you’ve got any ideas. Can you you fool the computers or not?”

He reached down to his tool belt and waved a spanner in my face, giving me a sardonic look.

I deflated. “Yeah, I figured it was a long shot.”

“Wruha gruhhapah raha wrughua.”

I’m a mechanic, not a hacker.

“Yeah, yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I know, but I thought it was worth asking. But we gotta do something! We can’t get involved in whatever dirty deal he’s got in mind. You know it won’t be a one-off. We do this, he’s got us.”

He huffed.

“Yeah, okay. How about we go down to The Song Rift and see if we can spot anyone who needs something valuable but legit transported? Or maybe they’re seeking passage or some shit like that.”

He grunted in assent, turning away to go put away his tool belt and comb his fur.

“You smell musky!” I shouted after him. “Use the fresher too!”

“Wrugghh!” he held his hand up, using a gesture he’d learned from watching human vids. It appeared to mean ‘fuck you.

“No, thanks. I know we’re close, but you’re not my type,” I called out.

Damn. I needed to go make myself look more professional, too. I was only half Paethian, so my skin wasn’t as deep a shade of pink, and I lacked the arm markings. I wasn’t short of markings, though, my back and arms covered with tattoos. I’d left my right forearm bare, though, for when I met my mate. My mother swore I’d feel it, that the marks would appear even if faded. I guess I hoped she was right, but even if she weren’t, once I found the one I chose to spend the rest of mine with, I’d make damned sure our arms wore matching marks even if they were made with a needle and ink.

The question was, did I want to show my markings as the Paethians do, going shirtless, or put on a shirt like most of the other aliens here? Which would they think looked more respectable? Usually, I didn’t give two shits, but I needed someone who was absolutely loaded and didn’t want him to think I was some kind of renegade looking to fleece him. In the end, I went with a collared shirt, but only because I remembered the lounge had a dress code requiring it.

I snickered when Grorsch’s fuzzy ass came in stuffed into a shirt and a pair of pants. His thick pelt made the fabric bunch up, and he looked ridiculous. He refused to put anything on his feet, but shoes weren’t required as not everyone had feet that would permit it.

We sat down in a corner and looked about surreptitiously, trying to see if we saw any likely marks. I saw a few deals going down, but so far, no one seemed to be looking for a pilot. I’d even told the bartender we were looking for work since people would often ask the staff in places like this if they knew anyone, and they’d point us out. Of course, if a deal was made, they got a handsome tip from the pilot. A little quid pro quo could go a long way if used judiciously.

I was just about to suggest we leave when a young woman wandered over to our table, stopping on the other side of Grorsch.

“Um, hi,” she said. “Sorry to bother you, but the bartender said you’re a pilot?”

Great. Normally I’d be all over taking whatever job someone offered us as long as it was at least quasi-legal, but we needed rich, and she was dressed in utility wear that had seen a lot of use. The blue was faded, and they looked a bit worn around the knees and seams. No way would Rando let us leave the station to do a job for her.

“Yeah, I am, and this is my co-pilot, Grorsch. We’re the best on this side of the galaxy,” I boasted. “We charge top rates, but if you can afford us, you’ll get your sols’ worth.” Hopefully, that would let her down gently, so she knew we were out of her price lead.

I mentally cursed when she slid into the seat she stood behind.

‘That’s fine. I’m looking for the very best. I can’t pay you now because the station master kept my credit chit, but if you can get me to Rigellus IV to the University of Kalmar, my employer will pay you everything you ask.”

An academic. Yeah, I doubted they’d pay what I needed.

“Look, lady,” I said, leaning forward.” I…” My voice trailed off. What was that delicious smell? I couldn’t place it, but it was making both of my dicks pay attention, both of them now pressing against the fabric of my pants very uncomfortably.

“Look,” she said, “I don’t want to explain here. If you come to Berth 23-A, I’ll explain, and you’ll see.”