An Old Job The OPOS bucked as it was disgorged from the warp. Silas began to pull himself towards the cockpit. Grav Generator crapped out on us again. Not that I mind but Jeb is probably throwing himself a shit fit what with all those stupid robes he wears flying up into his face. Sure enough, Silas arrived in the cockpit to find the ancient, skeletal excuse for a man cursing and wrestling to secure his loose vestments. “I keep telling you you need to start wearing tighter clothes old man.” goaded Silas “You shut your arse. I went through hell in a warm sweater to earn these robes, and I am not about to trade them in for a set of spandex pajamas, thank you very much.” Jebiden finally managed to get his wardrobe secured as Silas took control of the OPOS. No sooner had he gotten a dockward course set than a burst of static greeted them from the comms array: “Unidentified craft at baring 236 by 34 from station, This is Alamo Rock tower control. Squawk Ident ASAP or you will be declared a hostile.” Silas grabbed the handheld receiver from the dash-console “Alamo Rock tower, Cold Bore, this is the OPOS coming out of Maranda Fields. Request docking clearance for one ship. Corvette weight. Two runners aboard.” Who pissed in his cereal? Even Alamo Rock doesn’t threaten to shoot you down right out of warp transit. Something's got them wound up tight. After a moment, the tower came back with clearance to land and directions to their client. They were just here to drop off some goods and line up a new job, but seeing as how jobs were getting more and more scarce for Off-Runners like Silas, he had considered going back to flying with a caravan. When they landed Silas paid for refuelling and the help of a power loader to move the cargo out of his hold. The cargo in question was dolls. half a metric ton of little bobbledy headed desk dolls in the shape of Tanukis, a small, furry animal with cartoonishly large scrotums found on a few Eldar maiden worlds. Why such a cargo needed to be moved on the Black was beyond Silas. He and Jeb had laughed themselves blue in the face imagining an ecclesiarch conducting a holy purge and burning the ludicrous bobbles to cinders. as Silas chuckled at the thought for probably the thousandth time, he heard Jebs raspy voice a ways behind him. “No, I’m not the frakking captain. I just work here. Go talk to that bastard over there if you want to hire us.” Silas turned around to see the man Jeb had been talking about, a grizzled man that Silas instantly recognized as Ex-Navy. Nobody raised in the cramped, compact ships of the Black Run would ever walk in such a manner as to make one believe he had a polearm shoved up his ass. This man might well have been mistaken for a flag-pole if he hadn’t been walking. What grabbed Silas’s attention most of all though was the girl next to him. ***** The Captain had been looking for an Off-Runner for some time. Angel wasn’t entirely sure why, but she didn’t really question him. ‘Bite not the hand that feeds you’ came to mind. After talking to the incredibly cranky old man, he pointed them to a younger man working on the cargo they were dropping off. Harold walked off ahead with Angel quickly following her step. She whistled behind her to get the attention of Fell, her wolf familiar that had been with her for as long as she could remember. He had saved her from the purging of her world and the two could not be separated, much to the Command Crew’s dismay. The 4-eyed wolf followed suit as the Captain stood in front of the slouched man, the obvious differences were apparent; the Captain stood tall and strong, a defiant posture for a commanding figure. This man was hunched over, probably because he was so tall, and his eyes, orbs of pure black with silver flecks marking the irises. Angel heard tales of Voidborn but this was the most stark difference from normal she had ever seen. Angel stood a few steps behind the Captain and watched. She placed her right hand on her hips and leaned a little to the left to pet Fell who was now sitting by her side, still like a statue. “Are you the Captain of this… Boat?” Captain Harold asked, he was a Navy man, and this was hardly a ship. he was used to much bigger, but even after so many years of running the Black he still found the ships that the runners use a little… small. “I have some cargo that needs to be shipped, i’ve forming a caravan” he said, straight to the point. ***** Silas caught himself staring at the young woman behind the captain. She appeared to be at or about the age of 20. Silas couldn't accurately guess. It was hard to tell with ground pounders, even more so due to this young lady’s…attributes. Silas wasn’t about to pass judgment on her for being a mutant, after all, his own eyes would fast find him in trouble on any imperial world. But the animal-like prehensile ears poking up from her white-blue hair, and the tail swishing behind her were more than a little jarring. Despite all this, she was incredibly, INCREDIBLY attractive, and she carried herself like she knew it. Silas almost didn’t catch himself in time to hear what the navy man told him. “I don’t run in caravans, don’t have a big enough hold for it. Why come to me?” “This cargo isn’t going to the caravan.” Explained the man “ It’s headed to Jonsim, it’s a small port out of-” “I know where Jonsim is.” Silas cut him off “My name is Silas. I always exchange names before I work with anyone.” “Oris. Harold Oris.” They shook hands, and Silas was fairly certain he heard his bones straining at the man’s grip. “What’s the cargo?” “Walk with me, and I’ll show you.” Oris said. Silas turned over the handling of the offloading to Jeb and followed the Navy man. The girl walked close behind and Silas for the first time saw the massive four eyed dog that kept close at her heel. Damn. I’m sensing a theme with this one Unable to take it any longer, he turned his head towards her and asked “So what’s your story Short-Stack?” ***** “Short-Stack?” Angel looked at the tall Voidborn, the comment was aimed at her but she didn’t know what it meant though it took only a few seconds to realise what he intended as she followed his head’s direction straight to her ample figure “Ooooh, Short and Stacked, cute, I like it” she chuckled then smiled, “As for story? not that interesting really- I grew up on a world, Imps came, I left. pretty simple” She thought back to her world, its been so long she had forgotten its name and to be honest she prefered it that way not many can see a whole Hive City get burned to the ground and leave with no scars, Physically and Mentally, she got away from the physical ones but the memories still burned deep. Lost in the moment frozen in those memories she finally snapped out of it as Fell let out a loud distorted bark sounding like it was far yet close and could be heard by the ears and the mind. Of course, I still got you at least She petted the Wolf again as it panted as most dogs do. “What about you then, ‘Caretaker’?” Angel jested as she cocked her head and gestured towards the Old psyker that accompanied him “Just helping Granddad or do you have an exciting tale about the Black?” she said as she edged a bit closer to him, She didn’t like to tell her own story but was generally interested in others. In the distance an Arvus bearing the signs and colours of the Jezebel Ascent began to make its way to the landing pad to show the cargo these men were to carry. ***** Sharp girl. thinks she’s sharper than she actually is, but sharp none the less. “Not that much different, really. I was an engineer for a rogue trader crew when I was a kid. Jeb pretty much raised me. The Ad-Mech showed up, shit got frakked and me and Jeb were the only ones to make it out alive. Been running small freight ever since.” Silas didn’t make eye contact. He was grateful when the lander came down in front of them. The Martin wasn’t exactly a good memory. Silas spoke to Oris as the lander’s ramp opened. “That’s an Arvus. Not many of those on the Black. They usually aren’t much use unless you have an imperial ship to keep them in.” “I captain a Cobra. Retrofitted it for cargo.” said Oris in his usual clipped, no crox-shit tone. So THATs why the tower was so jumpy. An Imp ship the size of a Cobra would make anyone nervous. This guy is definetly a Navy deserter. The ramp dropped and Silas walked in, followed closely by Oris and the girl. Oris opened one of the large crates in the middle of the hold. Silas inspected the items inside. This sure ain’t no wobbly headed doll caper. “Eldar wargear.” said Oris with more than a little pride. “Splinter rifles, Kalibite armor, even a half crate of Ghost Plate.” “Seidhe” Silas corrected. [pronounced “Shey” for anyone who was wondering] “Pardon?” said Oris “These weapons aren’t Elder.” Silas elaborated “They were made by the Seidhe. They’re an offshoot of the Eldar from the Fall. Some people call them ‘Dark Eldar’ but the Eldar word for them is Seidhe.” Oris cocked his head “Are they worth anything?” “Are they worth anything?” said Silas “Only 35 Large if the guy you’re selling to is a good negotiator. If I were you, I wouldn’t take anything less that 40 for the lot. You’re sitting on enough merch to buy up a small moon, buddy. Where the frack did you get you get them?” ***** Both Angel and Oris eyes widened when they heard the news, they looked to each other for a good few seconds before the turned to face Silas “Dark Elda- No wonder that guy was so eager to get this stuff of his hands” Angel muttered to herself. Oris just shook his head and regained his composure “I’ve… heard of them yes, every Captain in the Navy has. We bought them from a Cold Trader a few weeks ago, he mentioned they were valuable and he needed to offload them, we are running a bit short on funds recently so I took the risk. so are you willing to join us for this? hows 5% of the final cut sound?” Oris began negotiating. ***** Silas wasn’t a greedy man by any stretch. He would have been perfectly happy with 5% of this haul. It was still 1750 kys at minimum, more than enough to keep the OPOS flying for the next few months. But it was the principal of the thing. An Off-Runner’s rate was never less than a quarter total profit, simply by virtue of the fact that it was usually the Runner who wound up dead if the job went south. “I’ll do it for 35%” said Silas. Oris looked perturbed. “10%. I have seven thousand hands to split pay between. Can’t have you running off with that much of the take.” Silas’s haggling pride was satisfied “Tell you what; 5000 kys even, I’ll take it to 624-VL. I got a friend up there I trust, he’ll give you at least 45,000 for the stash. Unless you have a prior contract.” “Deal” Said Oris. “But one of my crew goes with you. Gotta protect my interests.” Why do I suddenly have the sinking feeling I know who it is? ***** 3 days later. Angel was trotting about the ship just looking at it as if she was inspecting it, truly though she had no clue how ships worked, only how easily technology broke. It wasn’t long before boredom set in and she made her way to the cockpit to find Silas and ‘Jeb’ as he called the old man arguing… again. She stepped onto the room to see what the fuss was about, tiptoeing silently with bare feet. “I’m telling you a little nibble here and a bite there and we’ll be flying upside down and back-ass-wards when we return to real space, that mutt should stay in the hold” “Oh quit your fussing, didn’t you see that girl we got? You know how long it's been since I've been locked in a confined space with a goddess for 3 weeks? I don't care about the frakking dog! what I would do just to glimpse in her room’s shower for just one---" “Hello boys” “Helena Mother of FRACK!” the two yelped in perfect synchronization as they turned with stunned eyes at the door. “Uuuh, What I meant to say was i’m sure you have Absolutely fantastic tastes in fashion- and my thats quite the perfume you have on!” Jeb was quite visibly desperate. “Nice save you old bastard” said Silas “Oh shut up boy” Angel chuckled as the two flustered, “So we’ve been drifting for how long? this isn’t exactly a big enough ship to move about here. what do you two do for fun?” she questioned, bored out of her mind. ***** After Silas managed to peel himself off of the ceiling, he got out of his flight chair. “Jeb, take the con. Our passanger is bored, I’m going to give her some work. I want to take a full inventory of the cargo for Barcus before we get there.” Angel hip-swayed down the stairs out of the cockpit, with Silas making to follow her until Jeb caught him by the shoulder “Tell me later, what happened” he said “Piss of you old dog” Silas shot back goodnaturedly “I want details. copious details.” Said Jeb as the cockpit door closed. In the cargo hold, Silas felt ill at ease. The large dog that Angel had brought with her seemed to have it in for him. It wouldn’t be so bad, but I can never figure out which pair of eyes I’m supposed to look at. “Here” he said, pointing to a crate of Seidhe rifles and picking one up to demonstrate. “Pull this latch, it breaks open at this hinge. Look down the barrel from the back to see that they aren’t gummed up, and then pull the cycling rod to make sure everything is smooth. When you’re done, pile them here so I can test fire them.” ***** Angel huffed slightly Actual work? Boring… unless... she playfully plotted in her head, she shrugged and picked up the first Splinter Rifle she fiddled with the gun for a moment looking for the latch that Silas mentioned and started checking down the gun barrel, pulling the cycling rod and repeating for a few more guns before Silas began to walk away, before he could get far Angel decided to test the waters. “Jeez it's hot on this ship, you two never heard of air conditioning?” Silas turns round to see Angel tugging on a self made opening on her body-glove where her breasts where already on obvious display and now, showing enough skin to make a Ork blush. In the corner Fell growled in annoyance and set its head down, trying to get some sleep and not putting up with Angel’s games. Silas seemed to freeze as Angel flaunted her way over to him taking exaggerated hip swings before behind almost face to face with him, with her index finger she tugged on his Shemagh pulling it down slightly, “Aren’t you at least warm with this scarf on?” she giggled looking Silas in the eyes. ***** Does she mean…Yes I think she just might….Frakkit of course she does, LOOK AT THAT. keep calm Silas. Don’t lose it. Silas carefully, carefully dislodged Angel’s hand from his neck. “I-I-I’ll go check environmentals.” Shut up Silas, just go with it. “Its probably just a fried convection filament” SHUT UP “I’ll Be right back.” Silas had no idea it was possible to remove oneself from a room as quickly as he did. Frakking idiot. ***** Angel looked in mixed surprise and shock as Silas walked off ears drooping a little, “That… Thats never happened before...” a thought slipped into her mind before she turned to Fell, “Oh be quiet you.” She spat before returning to the rifles and continued to clean them. **** The rest of the trip was more of the same with Silas trying to keep Angel too busy to torment him and her dog too busy to eat the life-support system. As for the others, Angel seemed dejected, and constantly called Silas out for being “boring” while Jeb simply cursed him for being a dumbass. Docking at 624-VL was less eventful than at Alamo Rock, and Barcus was eager to meet them to make a deal. Barcus’ shop was Silas’ personal heaven. Wall to wall with tech that would make the most advanced Imperial machines cry, good deals on ship parts, and to top it all off, Barcus could cook the best Kababs ANYWHERE. Braal Barcus himself was a very small biped, about 65cm, with a bald head, long, pointed ears, an eyepatch, and wrinkled, leathery skin. [Yoda with an eye patch and a cigar. Yes, I am a starwars fanboy.] “What you got for me Silas?” he said “Seidhe wargear.” Said Silas, listing his inventory. “We want 50,000 for the whole lot.” “Who’s ‘we’?” asked Barcus, looking over at Angel. “She works for the man who owns the stuff. Just here to make sure I don’t scamper off with the goods” “Hmmm” Barcus entoned meaningfully, chewing the end of his Cheroot “50’s to much. I’ll do 40.” “45. You know you can flip it for twice as much to some Imperial baron.” “Fine. 45. And you do me a favor after it’s offloaded. Got a guy outside of Pearalix looking into acquiring some Cretian hardware. You keep your eyes open for a good load of them and we can go in on it together.” Silas turned to Angel. “Will your boss be happy with that?” Her mood seemed to have improved slightly with the prospect of money. “Yes, Yes. I think 45 is a fair deal. Take your fee out of that and not a ky more. Captain Oris will pick me up from here. Now go along in your little boat, Caretaker” she said with a slight huff, it was obvious she wasn’t used to being rejected before, Angel and her canine friend walked off towards the temporary quartering district, hips swaying cruelly all the way. Silas leaned over to Barcus. “If I told you that I had a chance to get at her on the way here and let it go...” Silas felt a stabbing pain in his ankle where Barcus had kicked him. “Frakking idiot.” The End
