“Beest I kin do iz teen tousand,” Gerk, the paunchy pawnbroker said as he surveyed the guns and equipment. He pulled a monocular lens into place and scrutinized the flechette gun without changing his offer.


“Come on, its worth twice that much!” Neil objected. Gerk rubbed his monocular with a lens.

“In zat keese…. teen tousand,” the pawnbroker reiterated he shrugged in the general direction of the walls of his shop.


“War ez oveer, heave guns da? No hestory, worth seemthing, but not much,” he explained. Jocasta pondered just hitting Neil over the head and stealing enough fuel to get him to the drop point but dragging an unconscious body back to the ship and confining him would raise too many red flags.

Gerzyirsky’s Boutique Boom Emporium was on the lower level of the station and seemed to have started life as a general purpose warehouse that had slowly morphed into a gun store. Plastic walls had been replaced by security steel that made the original frames sag alarmingly. Gerk sat behind  a wire mesh cage that had once probably been a shield generator, but had long since phased its last electron.


“On of deez though,” Gerk said and reached out to snatch one of the small dragonfly drones from the air with surprising dexterity. “This would be worth an extra…ahhh!” There was an arcing blast of electrical discharge as the drone dumped it spare capacitor into the gun dealer, he pulled his hand away smoking and twitching.

“Not for sale, and no touchy,” Jocasta advised.