Tyr. An interesting world and a serious case of contrasts. Tyr was settled about a hundred and fifty years ago by retired Inugorian war veterans looking for a home, away from judging eyes of those who have never experienced war. The greenish yellow planet presented them the opportunity to have a fresh start, surrounding themselves with the bountiful nature of the rich world and people who understood the horrors of combat.

In the decades that followed, the Tyrian leadership had allowed the immigration of other species. Human, Barral, and the aquatic Vellager also found their way to Tyr. They have formed the backbone to the development of the world into the military power it is now.

For first time visitors, most would find the world confusing. The Tyrian government bills itself as leisure planet, not without cause since it is fourth place in The Galactic Tourism Guide. The locals had made the environment the main feature of the world. Environmentalism is the main ideology and they molded everything around it. Walking down the main streets of the Tyrian capital Sheer Alkan, you will be surrounded my massive trees scattered at regular intervals. The city architects cleverly contoured the streets as if the trees were grown there organically while in fact if you take a bird’s eye view, the city is laid out in a very organized manner.

Cobbled avenues and tent shops dot the myriad commercial centers giving the city a very rustic aesthetic. Walking around with a close-quarter weapon is also allowed and encouraged, building up the look of a pre-industrial age. Most of the natives also love wearing period appropriate clothing, though made from modern materials as to not lose the convenience of modern technology.

Under the veneer of the beautiful and quaint lifestyle, Tyr is also known as the mercenary world. The newest of military hardware and personnel could be found, bought, and or hired here. The different mercenary companies that originated from Tyr are some of the highest paid experts in the field. The Red Tiger Mercenaries are actually reputed to have the best ground pounders, able to match themselves with galactic marines. Aquila, SpeckTech Securities, and Red Tiger Mercenaries are the three biggest and well-regarded mercenaries of Tyr. They are also members of the Tyrian committee. These three groups alone generate a quarter of the yearly revenue of the world from government contracts.

Another thing that most people don’t know is that mercenary companies are the ones that keep the space lanes clear of piracy. The various governments scattered about this sector of space do not have enough ships or money to safeguard both worlds and space lanes. The economic impact if they would do so would be crushing. Nobody would have enough money to support long range patrols and station ships around galactic systems. It’s much better (and cheaper) to pay somebody else to scour the space lanes for pirates.

As a result, Tyr space is probably one of the most heavily-fortified systems, and that is even including the core worlds. Tyr’s two moons have been converted to stationary defense fortresses, able to house three hundred fighters each. The fortresses have a massive main rail cannon that can fire ship-sized smart slugs, able to adjust trajectory mid-flight. The cannons’ range far outstrips any mobile weapons platform so a ship couldn’t just sit back and bombard it from afar. They would either have to send in fighters to neutralize them or get in close and slug it out. That would be a bad decision.

The gate is also saturated with mines and multi-shot energy platforms arranged in a security net. The energy platforms are small, plasma lancers connected to a power bank. They pack a wallop and are good for three shots. Once they burn out their banks, the small engine of the platforms fires up and makes for the nearest identified threat. The depleted lancers are loaded with high explosives that detonate on impact, allowing for one more chance to do damage.

If any potential hostiles still manage to get through those, they would then have to face the combined might of the mercenary world. The Tyrian home fleet has the same fire power as any galactic core world. Some say that the mercenaries have a stronger force considering that Tyr is always guarded by a Behemoth-class ship. These ships are considered as world enders since they, by themselves, could give battle to a heavy task force and come out winning. They’re like mobile military bases. Tyr has two of them that rotate duties protecting the world. T.S. Lam-Ang is currently sitting like a squat frog above Eddas Sation, the main space docks of the planet while T.S. Ines is nowhere to be found. I suspect that it’s probably busy terrifying the shit out of somebody.

I was so busy engrossed in learning more about the world when I got startled by a thud. Somebody was pounding on my door. I activated the door sensor and saw T outside. I allowed access and the door slid open. There was still some jitter on its movement and I could also hear a slight squealing sound from its rushed repairs. Nothing for it.

“Ready?” T asked. He was wearing something fashionable today. Aside from the light gray shirt, T has also donned his leather jacket with a Red Tiger emblazoned on the back. His tight pants and high cut leather boots perfectly accentuate his well-toned body. A holster with a laser pistol and an extender sword was strapped to his waist, completing his ensemble.

“Just about. Let me put my jacket on.” Franny presented me with my own jacket. I was damn proud of the red stripe on the left shoulder marking me as a combat vet but I still felt slightly guilty about it. I didn’t really help that much but Franny insisted that I’ve earned it. Not only did I not run in the face of combat, I also saved the admiral back in Ceres.

I wore a simple white shirt and a pair of pants the crew has retrieved for me from my apartment before leaving Ceres. I don’t follow fashion trends but I manage to buy some good clothes.

“I’m good. Let’s go.” I said. I was excited to explore Tyr. The leisure planet boasts a number of popular attractions that I was keen to try and this will be my first liberty after almost a month.

It took the Woglinde two weeks and a half to get back to Tyr and from what I heard, the head engineer routinely got into a shouting match with the captain, complaining how much abuse the engines were being subjected to. We are currently hard-docked in one of the main repair yards. The mines did a number on the ship, enough to warrant space dock repairs. While the ship is getting worked on, the crew is released on liberty. T took it upon himself to show me around Sheer Alkan.

“Where’s your pistol? You can’t go down there unarmed. People will never take us seriously.” T crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.

“Look, I suck at it. Sure, I passed the certification course but that is with a stationary target and I barely hit the minimum score. I’ve checked the handbook and it doesn’t say that I have to be an expert shooter to keep my place here. I’ve got a plan for that.”

“Well, that better be a good plan because I can’t think of how you are going to qualify for support duties if you can’t even handle a gun. Nobody’s gonna carry dead weight, man.”

“I know. That’s why I said I checked the handbook. It said that ‘any potential recruit needs to be proficient with a ranged weapon.’ It did not specifically say that it had to be an energy weapon.”

“Alright, how are you gonna fight back when people start shooting then?” T asked.

“C’mon, follow me. Let me show you something.” I replied. I picked up a small bundle wrapped in cloth and we made our way towards the armory. I could see that T was slipping glances at the package and was burning with curiosity but he kept his peace.

Once we were in the firing range, I picked the closest stall and laid the package on the table. I pressed the target button on the screen then unwrapped the covered bundle. T looked over my shoulder to see a small leather pouch filled with daggers. He held one up for inspection. It was a thin piece of metal, molded to the shape of a conventional knife. It was perfectly balanced and felt comfortable to grip.

T replaced it on the table and gave me a stare.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“The hell, man. That’s not even funny. How are going to fight with those dinky little things.” T asked with incredulity. I could understand. Throwing knives aren’t really weapons that inspire caution.

“Like this.”

I grabbed a bunch of them with my left hand and with a flick of wrist, threw the one T just recently placed on the table towards the holographic target. The knife clattered to the deck with a soft plinking sound. I pointed at the screen showing the target silhouette and it was displaying a mark on the target’s throat, a killing hit.

“Nice, so you have a good throw. What about-”

I didn’t T a chance to finish what he was going to say and snapped three more in rapid succession towards the target. All three hit within centimeters from each other, center mass.

“Wooo! That’s awe-”

I wasn’t listening to what he was saying because I was concentrating on my last throw set. Since my dismal performance during the boarding action, I’ve thought about how I could at least keep heads down for my team. The next day after the fight, I was early in the galley preparing lunch. I’ve been thinking about what kind of training could fix my shooting problem when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a newly-cleaned apron starting to slip off one of the preparation tables. I was cutting some vegetables and unconsciously threw the knife I was holding. It pinned the apron on the table, preventing it from falling on the deck and getting soiled. It was a perfect throw. The knife hooked the neck strap of the apron and missed cutting the fabric. What’s more, it was exactly what I was hoping to happen. A light went off my head and I immediately met some guys from production and bribed them with chocolate to fabricate me some practice knives. I then took to the information net to look for vids on how to properly throw. Overhand, underhand, sideways, I did it all. The training went amazingly well. It took me a short while to get the hang of throwing the knives and was able to do snap throws in just five days. The armorer snorted when I first came in with the practice knives. He was not snorting now.

Using both hands, I quickly threw knives in quick succession. I threw using all the different throwing methods and I did it fast. The staccato of knives hitting the back plate downrange rang in a quick beat. In three seconds, I’ve thrown six knives, walking it along the torso of the target.

“Hot. DAMN!” T shouted. His eyes were huge as saucers as he quickly enlarged the target on the screen. He could see how well each knife penetrated the target like it was magnetized into the proper position. He whistled his satisfaction.

“Not bad, eh? I can’t hit anything with the pistols. I figured I better take advantage of what I’m good at. I didn’t even know I had some talent in throwing. Problem is, throwing ain’t exactly long ranged. I need to be pretty close to nail somebody.” It was also something that I’ve thought about. I’ve considered building up my wrist, arm, and back muscles to improve my range but a gun would always shoot farther than I could possibly throw.

“Don’t worry about that, man. I know just the perfect thing for you. Let’s get planetside and I’ll introduce you to a friend of mine.” T winked at me then led me out of the armory. The armorer called my name then pointed at the scattered practice knives on the deck then gave me a hard stare. I hurriedly collected them, abashed that I forgot to retrieve them. I was about to apologize to the man but he dropped the security screen on my face. A glowing closed sign illuminating my face.

“Crusty old man…” I mumbled. T was tapping his foot impatiently so I got a move on. There was a lot of people excited to be off the ship and I could see the exit tube flowing with off duty sailors. We joined the crowd and found ourselves on the receiving deck of Eddas Station.

Eddas Station is a palisade-class modular habitat. The station is made up of six nodes arranged in a pentagon with the main node in the middle. It has a score of decks, catering to the needs of the very busy world. Hundreds of ships dock and leave the station carrying goods or personnel. Half of the station is off-limits to tourists and is restricted to mercenary outfits. Every outfit rents a number of docks and pays a quarterly bill for usage.

The space station does not have any form of weaponry. The idea behind it is that the station would be the impenetrable shield that enemies would crush themselves on. The shield emitters installed along the different nodes is powered by a specialized power plant. The power plant harnesses dark matter and converts it to energy that is fed to the emitters. It is self-sustaining and easily maintained. The exact specifications and blueprints of this technology have been developed and kept confidential by the Tyrian government. It would take a tremendous amount of firepower to crack this nut.

T and I joined the line to the security screen. A combat-armored security personnel wielding a plasma rifle was standing beside the entrance portal. His partner was checking the IDs of each person in the slowly-moving line. The checker pointed his scanner on the left collar bone of each person and cross-checked the information on his screen with the manifest showing on his pad. He then waved the cleared sailor through as another man took his place.

The area of the station reserved for the disparate merc outfits was very utilitarian. Cat walkways run through the tall bulkheads. Overhead pipe and wiring crisscrossed overhead. Everything was colored in different shades of gray, making for a very drab place to be in. It’s clean, though. Everything was in good condition and security is tight. The mercs were behaving themselves so it was very apparent that the station doesn’t brook trouble. A squad of foot mechs led by another security personnel breezed by the line, reminding everybody that they should behave.

Once we passed the security screen, T and I walked through a long passage that terminated to the main taxi port. This area is for general use so it was leaps and bounds different from where they just came from. The entire hall was full of lights and sounds. The bulkheads were covered with stores selling a variety of goods. Food, personal equipment, novelties, the list goes on. Holo projectors were set up in staggered intervals, feeding the mass of people transiting to and fro the station with advertisement. A small open garden was placed in the middle of the receiving deck and was surrounded with tastefully designed benches. Aeric could see a large group of Inugorian tourists being led by their guide towards the bus ports. The small, spherical drone floating above his head monitored the group to ensure none gets lost.

T and I threaded our way amongst the crowd to reach the taxi bays. I was almost splashed with a bright blue drink a crying human child spilled when she tripped. Her harassed mother was busy corralling her siblings while the father hurried towards them holding a tray of food.

One more example why I’m not yet ready for fatherhood.

We eventually found our way to the bays and got in the nearest available taxi. The taxi was actually a small civilian drop ship that has an atmospheric configuration feature. It proved too costly to use shuttles to deliver people planetside. It was a product that resulted from the need to economize.

“So, what are we doing? I’ve never been here before.” I asked T as he was fiddling with his ArmComm.

“First thing is we get you some custom weapons. It’s just too embarrassing to walk with you unarmed. Then, we need to check in with mama-san. She’s the landlord of the hostel we will be staying in. We get company rates for our rooms. They’re nothing fancy but better than paying a stupid amount of creds for somewhere downtown.”

“I’m not into fancy anyway. As long as it’s clean and safe, you’ll get no complaints from me.”

“Good. It’s still pretty early in the afternoon so we could check out the market before we join the others at Horny Sam’s. What do you need from the market anyway? Franny has been talking to our suppliers already.” T ask curiously.

“Remember that horrible ration bar? Yeah, I’m fixing that. I’m also going to introduce the ship to a specialty of mine. Have you ever heard of something called ‘ale’? ”

“Ale? Hmm… I don’t think so. Wazzat?”

“Your new favorite drink. Trust me, you’ll love it. I just need a few things to make it.” I said with a smirk.

“Whatever you say, man. You’re the guy that used to do this for a living.”

“Technically, you do too.” I reminded him.

“Cutting vegetables is not the same as owning and operating an eatery.”

“You have a point there.” I agreed after a pause.

Looking out of the viewing port, I could see we were gently gliding over the outskirts of Sheer Alkan. The city looked majestic from my view. The giant trees with their slightly purple pigmentation were full of life. Large birds could be seen resting on the high branches while others were flapping about in flying formation. I could also see the multitude of rivers and streams that serpents its way across the wide land. There were few tall buildings in the capital, from what I could observe. The general aesthetic of the architecture focuses more on keeping buildings as low to the ground as possible so the buildings that I could see were pretty expansive.

The taxi parked itself on an open landing pad. T paid for our fare then we stepped outside. I was immediately greeted by the humid heat. I could almost feel myself starting to sweat. There was a slight, sweet scent wafting in the air and I was not sure if that was normal or it was coming from something. My skin felt a little tight due to the minute atmospheric pressure difference than I was used to but I only noticed because I was trying hard too. I took a deep breath and felt my lungs filled with clean air. A smile blossomed on my face as this was the first time I was able to breathe fresh air in a while. The local star was beaming down on us and it felt good on the skin. I looked at T and I could see that he was observing me. He gave me a knowing grin.

“Good, eh?”

“So good. Damn, I didn’t know I missed being planetside so much. I’m gonna enjoy our stroll later.”

“Me too. I like ship life and all but nothing beats having actual sunlight on your skin.” T looked up and let the sun warm his face.

We had to move along as another taxi took the recently vacated pad. T led me on a brisk pace towards a grav car rental place. There were some nice ones displayed outside in the parking lot but T decided on a more practical one. He did make me pay for it since I’m the one that had to pick up some stuff from the market.

Driving along the streets of Sheer Alkan was an interesting experience. There were not a lot of grav vehicles on the streets. Most of the natives were using a bipedal animal to go places. They call it a ‘Saguk.’ It’s a large, grounded bird with short bright green feathers. The bird has a big, plumed head and a long beak that makes it stand out. The birds move at an impressive clip and based on what I could see, their gait was somewhat smooth. I didn’t see anybody bouncing around but that might be because I don’t know anything about riding.

It took us about ten minutes to reach the heart of the market district. It took us ten minutes more to find a place to park. Most of the free spaces were privately owned. We found a spot near a park, a few blocks away from the market. T and I leisurely walked along the sidewalk, enjoying the great weather. I was also looking at everything. I tried to be discreet about it and not look like a total tourist.

Right before we entered the market square, T led me to a brown, adobe building with a sword and shield shingle hanging prominently on a post in front of it. It was a single floor building with an impressive iron-wrought door. I looked closely at the design as we got near and could make out figures of Inugorians in different poses holding traditional weapons. It was very well crafted.

I was wondering how we would open the heavy looking door when it opened by itself. T strode confidently inside and I hurried to follow him.

Inside, we found an honest to goodness weapon’s shop. The walls were covered with racked weaponry from simple daggers all the way to the latest molecular sword models. The rustic design was complemented with wood shelving and furniture that dominated the shop. Though everything looked primitive, I could still see force emitters and vid sensors poking out from discreet areas. The place just looks like a burglar’s dream. I suspect that anybody that tries to rob this place would find dealing with a M.Y.K. HomeDefender Mech not fun.

We stepped up to the counter as the attendant stopped waving around his feather duster.

“How’s my favorite dealer of handheld death!?” T loudly asked as he leaned over the counter, holding his left hand up for a high-five. The attendant assented to allow one of his tentacles to slap the waiting hand. The attendant’s tanks slightly glowed orange, the color of moderate happiness.

“Hello, kind beings. Welcome back Titus of Woglinde. This Vellager is known as Bopi. How can this honored Vellager help you today?” The pleasant Vellager’s monotone voice asked. It was mostly for my benefit because T gave the attendant a wink and the gun fingers.

The Vellager are an aquatic species that most people have little contact with. Due to their environmental requirements, most council worlds are impossible for them to visit for an extended amount of time.

The Vellager are most commonly compared by humans to an octopus. They have eight tentacles that they use to manipulate things around them and to move around in the water. Instead of the bulbous mass of an octopus, the main body of the species is like that of a lion fish. They are a very intelligent race that followed a very different technological evolution compared to the other space-faring species.

Most races have developed their technology starting from the discovery of fire. The Vellager has taken a different route by the discovery of soft stone. Soft stone is the layman term for a specialized semi-organic rock found in the Vellager homeworld. In its unprocessed state, it has the same hardness as of bronze. The ancient Vellagers had discovered that by using a harder rock, they were able to bash the soft stone into any form.

From there, the Vellager was able to tame the dangerous oceans of their homeworld and rise to prominence by being the preeminent leaders in organic tech.

“Yeah. My friend here needs some throwing knives. I know it’s a very unusual thing to look for but we’re kinda hoping you got something in the back.” T said, almost apologetically. Bopi flashed a pink hue of contentment and just waved T’s concern away with one of his tentacles.

“Do not feel any distress. Bopi has some excellent throwing knives in his inventory. The street performers regularly have a knife throwing act and this humble Vellager supply them with their equipment. Is there any kind of throwing knives the honored customer needs?” Bopi’s tank glowed a soft baby blue this time. The Vellager was housed inside an environmental platform. It’s basically a grav plate with a sealed and armored tank filled with the prepared water the Vellager would need. The tank is full of sensors so that the Vellager could operate the mechanical arms attached to it. Each suit comes with a comm box that uses a color spectrum analyzer to translate the color language of the Vellager to galactic standard. Conversely, there is a small screen inside the tank that converts spoken words into light flashes.

T gestured for me to speak up.

“Yes. I need something that could penetrate armor. Molecular knives if you have some. About thirty would do. I would also need a force multiplier band. If you have one of those lighter ones, I would appreciate it. Oh, I’m also going to need a harness for them. A pouch? A holster thing? I don’t really know how I’ll carry them. Do you have any recommendations?” I rattled off. T told me about the force multiplier bands on our way down here. Apparently, it was commonly used by those who like swinging blunt weapons. It increases the strength of your strikes exponentially. T warned me that it would be expensive but I’m more concerned with my continued existence rather than my wallet.

“Ah, yes. We have those in stock. Bopi will be back momentarily. If it pleases you, feel free to peruse our other products. You might find something to your liking.” With that, Bopi flitted off towards the back. T and I circled the shop, gazing at the different melee weapons on display.

The return of melee weapons back to the forefront of battle was unexpected for a lot of people. The arms race to build the most powerful weapon to match the hardest of armor had resulted into something like a stalemate. Dissipators made energy-based weapons next to useless and duraplating could stop most kinetic weapons. Oddly enough, stabbing somebody with a molecular knife proved to be more effective than shooting him. Scientists are still unable to use the same technology on ammunition so melee weapons took center stage. Dying schools of historical martial arts found their second wind and now become necessary schooling for any who wish to get into a fight. An entire marital period from the history of the different galactic cultures was revived. It was now more common to find somebody carrying a molecular weapon than a gun.

Bopi came back after a few minutes carrying a small box. I put down the retractable flanged mace back on its display and eagerly watched as the Vellager placed the box on the counter. One of his tentacles dipped in the box and took out a thin throwing dagger. It was nothing special in terms of design but this was no fabbed metal practice knife. He handed it to me and I tested how it felt like on my grip. It was perfectly balanced and very light. It was so light that I was worried that it would not have enough mass for me to throw it effectively. Bopi assuaged my concerns by pressing a button from under his counter. A practice dummy slid out of the wall on the far side of the shop. We were wondering why there was a blank area in such premium space. The dummy was armored with a heavily-damaged combat armor. I could see that Bopi was ready to stand behind the quality of his weapons if he allows them to be used on combat armor.

Bopi encouraged me to throw one so I walked to the other end of the shop and snapped the knife towards the dummy. The knife flew perfectly and lodged itself on the left breastplate of the armor. All three of us checked out the damage and could see that the knife went respectably deep. Bopi escorted me back to the counter and had me put on a force multiplier band. It was not the newest model since it was more like a bracer than a band but it fitted snugly on my wrist. I powered it on and again walked across the room to make another throw. This time, the knife flew from my hand like an arrow fired from a heavy bow. The knife completely sliced through the dummy like it was not there then continued to bury itself in the adobe wall. It almost completely penetrated the wall but got wedged in an angle.

“Woah! I really didn’t expect that. I’m sorry about the wall! I’ve never tried one of these things before. I’ll pay for the damages.” I quickly reassured the store attendant. Bopi just flashed pink and laughed. His laugh was weird because it was canned laughter. The Vellager don’t laugh so they use recordings of it for cases of amusement.

“Bopi has expected such results. Worry not, that wall has stood abuse for years and is constantly being repaired. This Vellager is pleased that you are impressed by our product. Would you like to purchase said products, honored customer?”

“Hell, yeah! Uh… I mean, yes. I do.”

“Excellent! Bopi is most happy. I will gladly prepare your purchase. While Bopi handles your purchase with care, please choose the design for your knife holster from our design catalogue. We could also accommodate custom designs if you, honored customer, have something specific in mind.” A holo tab blinked on the counter, showing the different designs and material options. I was not really well-versed on what is practical so T helped me out. We decided on a worked leather bandolier. It looked like something out of those two-dimensional period vids from 20th-century earth. I was feeling embarrassed about it but T was getting a kick out it. It took the AutoStitch about three minutes to make my bandolier. Bopi used some kind of treated leather so that the mol knives don’t just cut through their holder. Other than it looking fashionable, the knives will be kept high on my chest, lending itself better for a throw. With practice, I could see myself being able to draw and throw in one motion. Bopi handed me the Mol knives and I slotted them on the pouches running along my new rig. I had to pay extra to get a copy of the blueprint so that I could have production back in Woglinde make me some when I run out. The metal used was not as important as the process of honing the edge for it to qualify as a molecular weapon.

I checked myself out on the mirror and I admit that it was not as campy as I thought it would be. T made a running commentary about how I could pick up chicks with my new look but I ignored him. Bopi patiently waited until I was satisfied and was about to take them off when T stopped me.

“Keep them on. You need to be armed here. It’s cool. Besides, if you’re gonna walk with a handsome bastard like me, you need to look smart.” T boasted.

“Yeah, yeah Mr. Fantastic. Try not to love yourself too much. You might get yourself pregnant.”

I was about to settle accounts but Bopi glowed a yellow color.

“Bopi?” I asked curiously.

“Yes, honored customer. Bopi had a thought that you might be interested in one more item. Please, if you could look at this?” Bopi laid out a plain, black undershirt on the counter. I didn’t know what I was expecting but it was not definitely this.

“Nice shirt?” I said with a questioning tone.

“Thank you, dear customer. Bopi aims to please. This shirt, other than being of current fashion trend, is also made of a special material that would help safeguard its wearer. Please observe.” Bopi grabbed one of the swords displayed behind him and forcefully stabbed the shirt. The shirt suddenly went rigid upon contact with the sharp point, repelling the weapon with a bounce. Bopi’s platform slid a bit, attesting to how much power he put on that strike yet the shirt was undamaged. I lifted it up to look at it closely and could honestly say I couldn’t find any trace of damage. I was duly impressed.

“This shirt is made for proprietary Vellager technology that is unavailable for most customers. Due to certain galactic laws applicable to Tyr and your current employment with the honorable Red Tiger Mercenaries, you are legally allowed to purchase and own one. Just a word of caution, honorable customer, the kinetic shirt will stop most physical attacks categorized as small arms but it will not prevent the transfer of energy. Honored customer may still be injured by blunt force.”

“Somebody can still smash your chest in, man.” T ‘helpfully’ added. He was listening with one ear while he was checking out some knives on the display rack.

I placed the shirt back on the counter and thought. I could surmise that the shirt would be expensive. It was not on display and based on what Bopi said, hard to get. I really didn’t want to break my savings too much but I can’t really say that I wouldn’t need it. I’m not trained like the other guys in the ship. I barely know how not to shoot myself in the face. I got lucky that I didn’t get shot or stabbed the last time.

“Alright, Bopi. I’ll take it too. Hopefully, I will never need it.” I said. I reluctantly allowed my ArmComm to pay the billed amount. The Vellager attendant was very happy to take my creds and gave me a complementary duckbill hat. T and Bopi were talking about the on goings in Sheer Alkan while I tried not to cry about the sad state of my bank account. Just like that, I spent three months worth of profits if I was still running my eatery.

Eventually, we made our goodbyes to Bopi with a promise to send over anybody else we know who was looking for some quality weapons.

We stepped out of the store and the door closed with a soft click. I fiddled a bit with the straps of my bandolier. I was not used to the feeling of something strapped to my shoulder but it was not uncomfortable.

“Where to now?” T asked.

“The cooking appliance center. Let’s do some shopping.” I replied.

T groaned but readily walked beside me towards the colorful tents in the distance. I wore my new hat as we made our way towards the market under the bright afternoon sun.