12. Ozadus

“You’re sure you can handle this?” the Odex man asks yet again. I suppress a well-deserved grimace and turn to him with a self-assured grin instead.

“I know you’ve never worked with me before, but I can assure you I’ve shipped much more, much faster, and in less time than you’ve requested.” I pat the side of one of the cargo boxes sitting in the hull of my ship. They have the words ‘fragile’ and ‘hazardous’ scribbled all over every corner, in multiple languages.

“Just… please understand how vital it is that they get there in one piece.”

I nod my head. I’d understand better if he showed me the shipping manifest, but he’s being incredibly dodgy about the actual contents of these containers.

“I understand. The route I’m taking is smooth sailing. No asteroid belts to be found. I guarantee your, uh…product will get to its destination safe and sound.”

The Odex man grumbles quietly before turning away.

Sometimes, I miss working for the syndicate. Mostly at times like these. Back then, we had much less contact with the ‘customer’ for their own safety. A go-between, or sometimes even the boss for the big jobs, would give us the details and send us on the way. Most of the time, we never even knew who was paying us.

Those were the good times.

Of course, it was all part of a wretched, corrupt system of violence and crime. One I could no longer uphold in good conscience. Not for lack of trying, of course.

Fuck, did I try. But every time I went out on another job shaking down a small business for protection money or stealing weapons from a rival gang, there was the specter of Lisa reminding me I was risking my life to make the galaxy an overall worse place.

I hated myself for it, at first. Not being able to shake the memory of a woman who rejected and left me felt pathetic, even if she was my fated mate. But then, after some time, I realized what it actually was. Motivation.

Lisa is my fated mate. There is no getting around that. Convincing her I can be a better man instead of the career criminal I’d assumed I’d always be is the biggest challenge of my life, but that’s what will eventually make it so worthwhile.

I decided I would win her back. Over the past year or so, I figured out a way to make a more honest day’s pay without sacrificing my freedom. I set up my own courier service and got all the legal permits and everything. And as it turns out, I don’t need to work for a crime boss to have a good time making money.

I spend my days dodging pirates, space debris, and other criminal gangs trying to take what my customers entrust me with.

See, I don’t deliver consumer products or newspapers or anything so safe and boring. I advertise myself as a guy who can get the dangerous stuff where it needs to be, no matter what.

I once delivered a crate of fruit from a far-off planet worth millions that would expire in three days if I didn’t get it to the right market in time. That trip had half the galaxy on my ass. For fruit! It also had a slithering stowaway that made the job even more interesting for me.

Found that little guy a home as well.

In some ways, this job is even more fun than my old gig. I make my own rules and my own hours. I work as long and hard as I want, and right now I’m working pretty hard. I need to if I’m going to make the kind of money I need to start a family with Lisa.

Imagine her face when I show up at her struggling little mechanic shop with proof I can make it going straight. Sometimes, when the work gets exhausting, that’s all I can do. Imagine her face and how proud she’d be to see how far I’ve come.

“Hey, Theon, I’m coming in now,” I say over the comms device. I’m still working on delivering the fragile and hazardous payload, but I have a quick pitstop to make.

Theon’s a regular customer, one who trusts me. And his job is conveniently on the same path as this one. It’ll take me no extra time at all, and I’m almost doubling my income for the week.

Sure, I won’t be getting much sleep. The autopilot function on this ship is trash and can’t read space debris very well, so I have to stay at the controls as much as possible. But it’ll be worth it.

Nothing I can’t handle.

“Phew,” Theon says when he takes a look at my other inventory on my ship. “That seems important. Are you sure you can spare the time for my stuff, too? What’s in these boxes anyway? Seems dangerous, I don’t know…”

I smile and shake my head. “This guy paid for the fuel that’s getting your package delivered, too. A savings I very gracefully passed on to you, by the way.”

Theon drops his package next to one of the Odex man’s crates and chuckles. “Well then, what’s his mailing address? I ought to send him a thank you card!” The Vakutan slaps me on the back and shuffles off my ship. “Take care, Ozadus! There’s no one else in the business like you.”

With a wave towards my friend, I get the ship sealed and running. I don”t have a lot of time for chit-chat and lingering if I’m going to make this itinerary work.

It’s only two days into the journey before the first sign of trouble. A tiny two-seater pulls into my pathway, following alongside me for a few minutes before pulling back out.

I recognize this maneuver for what it is. That was a scout ship sizing me up for the boarding crew. I know, because I’ve been both.

To any unsuspecting civilian, that ship would look like nothing more than a young couple on a honeymoon who got lost on their way to a luxury space station. Hell, most civilian crews wouldn’t even notice it if they had the autopilot turned on. By the time they realize what’s happening and send out a distress signal to the authorities, it’s too late.

But as someone who used to pull this maneuver for a living, I’m well aware of what comes next. I also know how to avoid giving them what they want – divert course.

Not yet, though. If I jump pathways now, the boarding crew will easily be able to track and follow me from their current position. I have to wait until the exact moment the big ship pops into view before making the jump. It’ll be unexpected and harder for them to keep up.

It’s also risky. A jump like that will have a lot of force behind it, and without knowing for sure what’s in those crates or how they’re packed, I may be setting myself up for something much worse than a pirate raid.

But I don’t have time to check. The big ship joins my pathway, as expected, and I flip the switch to reverse. It’s taxing on the engine. I smile to myself, thinking about Lisa chewing me out for putting so much stress on it.

My ship wrenches from the pathway and out into open space, pulling in reverse as quickly as possible. As it does, I get one good look at the boarding ship.

For a moment, my blood turns to ice. Because that ship looks very, very familiar.

It’s a thought I’ve been avoiding this entire time – what if they come for me? That’s an inevitability, to be honest. No one just walks away from the syndicate and lives a happy, peaceful life.

Somewhere, some young kid looking to prove himself is handed a data packet of my face, aliases, skills, and known whereabouts. That kid is told if he wants to take my place with the boss, he needs to end my life.

That’s how this works.

But, no. Right before I lose visual contact with the ship, I catch a glimpse of their engine. It’s incredibly old, with the rust cover to match. The syndicate wouldn’t be caught dead flying something so pathetic. These were just run of the mill pirates.

I shake my head and get to work charting a new pathway, settling on one that makes a wider arc towards an alliance planet. Pirates are less likely to show up in these spaces considering how often they’re patrolled, but it’s also a real time sink for me.

No matter, I’ll get it done. Every job finished on time is one step closer to being back with Lisa. I initiate the course and set it to autopilot, just for a moment. I need to check the precious cargo.

Theon’s package is fine, as expected. The man is an artist. He creates highly detailed sculptures that very rich patrons will pay a pretty penny for. I don’t quite get it, too many rough angles, but his art is in high demand. He needs me to make sure they get in his customer’s hands, and not the black market.

But the Odex man’s crates are another story. One of them shifted during the jump, enough that whatever is inside may have moved. It’s as good an excuse as any to pry it open and check on the contents.

As I do, I think about other similar items I’ve delivered. Corrosive chemicals for military use, glass tubes full of deadly pathogens going to test sites, even wild animals. Slowly, I open the lid without breaking it and cautiously peek inside.

I sigh, grabbing a bootleg Tiny Tamei baby doll. These things are all the rage with little Odex girls right now. This is what I risked my life for. I shake my head, put her back inside, and close the lid back up.

Such is the life of an adventuring courier.