Sayeeda gestured Taya back into the ship, the girl was quick to take advantage of the chance to get out of the potentially dangerous situation, all but running up the ramp. She might tell herself that she would be more useful inside the ship and maybe that was true, but truthfully Junebug just wanted her out of the way. There were a million ways this exchange could go wrong and shooting the Highlanders crew to save the forty million was both the most likely and the most difficult to avoid.

The aliens in the armor snorted and yipped at each other their communication undecipherable to human ears. Junebug watched them with studied boredom her plasma rifle cradled casually but within only a few degrees of the armored killers. In the ancient struggle between weapons and armor, weapons were currently in the lead. Nothing a man could carry would do much to stop a plasma bolt. Even ablative armor would transmit a bone shattering shock as the superheated plasma detonated on its surface. Powered armor was more effective and could be plated heavily enough to withstand the shock, but it sacrificed movement. Mechs and the like were more akin to light vehicles than armored infantry. Sayeeda figured if this went south she could take at least one and probably both of the alien gunmen down but it didn’t mean she was eager to try conclusions. One of the creatures, sensing her regard made a crude leer running a purplish tongue over its fangs. Sayeeda winked without allowing her face to lose its bored expression, gannering another burst of garbled alien chittering. 

Further by play was interrupted by Neil returned carrying the small chest in which the *BLANK* was stored. The guards and the young woman who was apparently going to perform the assay quited in anticipation. The pilot set the case down on the grease stained floor and flicked both the latches open with a theatrical flourish.

“Behold!” he cried, throwing the lid open and posing dramatically. The soft glow of the *BLAN* pulsed from within the chest, illuminating falling dust motes in its pure light. Neil looked a little crestfallen.

“No one appreciates a show,” he muttered. Sayeeda noticed that his revolver was tucked into his belt, within easy reach for a quick draw. Apparently she wasn’t the only one concerned about the number of ways things might go wrong.  The woman, Junebug never got her name, pulled a bulky but portable scanner from a bag and ran it over the *BLANK*. For an endless minute the machine beeped and whired before the aide, or whatever she was, finally tucked the scanner away.

“It appears to be genunine,” she said, her voice a little to netural to be believable.

“Where did you say you got it from?” she asked. Junebug rolled her eyes.

“We stole it from the Pirate King and he is going to sail his fleet of dreadnoughts in here and wreak horrible vengeance on whoever holds the cursed treasure. Anyone who toucheth it wilt surely perish excetera and if this is the part where you try to talk us down from our price because its soooo dangerous, then you can just be on your way and we will find another buyer,” Junebug sneered. The aliens stiffened, gripping their weapons. Junebug negligently lifted her rifle to point at the closes gunmen though her face still appeared bored rather than threatening. The aides face was dark with an unpleasant emotion.

“Very well, we will pay your asked price, but you should know that…”

“Yeah yeah, no one disrespects the boss, we get it,” Junebug finished, lowering her rifle as the aliens took their own hands away from their weapons.

“Take the goods,” the aide told the aliens.

“No,” Junebug and Neil spoke simultaneously, paued to look at each other and then turned back to their guests.

“I know we are all friends and everything, you know you being infamous gangsters and we being some randoms who never made port here till yesterday, but just for the hell of it, lets assume we want to see the money before we hand over the goods.”

“You are a very irritating woman Captain Cyckali,” the aide said, clenching and unclenching her fists. Junebug smiled toothily.

“And just to be sure no one gets any weird notions, lets do the hand off somewhere neutral, one of those casinos should do fine.”

“The Golden Nebula,” Taya’s voice sounded in her mastoid implant. The girl was good, listeninging into the conversation and doing her own research as she went.

“THe Golden Nebula, lets say three hours from now?” Junebug went on as though she had come up with the name.

“That is hardly enough time to get the money toge…” the Aid protested.

“Well then I guess we will have to take our bussiness elsewhere after…” the aide through up her hands in disgust.

“FINE!” she snapped and whirled on her heel, practically storming out of the building flunkies in tow. Junebug grinned, Neil gave her his ‘what the fuck was that’ expression as he pulled his revolver from his belt. She shrugged a little sheepishly.

“Sorry, it has been days since I shot anything, guess I’m a little tense.”
[@POOHEAD189]