get sick or worse.
Marion lifts a teardrop-shaped, indigo thing that most resembles a small Terran squash and holds it near her ear. She taps on the side several times and listens intently, before a scowl crosses her face.
“Is good, yah?” The scabby Vakutan behind the counter apparently lacks a translation chip and instead relies upon a none too stable command of Galactic Standard. “Me give you good, good price.”
“Not on overripe fruit, you won’t.” She tosses the fruit back into the pile in disgust. “This would be half rotted by the time we finished the calc for superluminal speed.”
“No, is good. Picked fresh.”
“Picked fresh two months ago. Sorry, not interested.”
The Vakutan unfolds onto slender, rickety limbs and hobbles out from his stand. He grabs Marion by her filthy sleeve and smiles, showing a very gap-toothed mouth.
“No. No such thing as no interest. I have other stock. Fresher.”
Varia moves forward and I cringe, expecting her to bust what’s left of the Vakutan’s teeth out, but Marion subtly shakes her head. Varia reluctantly holds off her advance, but her steely eyed gaze remains fixed upon the Vakutan. We follow as the Vakutan merchant leads Marion through the filmy curtain separating his one-story hovel from the street proper.
Inside, I cover my nose because the air is thick with rotting vegetation. Black flies the size of peanuts buzz through the air, nasty looking little buggers with blood-red wings. I’m a bit dubious that any of this stuff is safe to eat, but the Vakutan sweeps a tattered muslin cloth off of an open-faced wooden bin. Inside, stacked as neatly as possible given their different sizes, are more of the same indigo fruit from outside.
Marion picks one up and does the same tap check she did outside, but this time her face doesn’t wrinkle up in disgust. While her expression remains carefully neutral, I can tell she’s pleased with the condition of his wares—at least, these in particular.
“These are acceptable.” Marion pulls out the credstick Jax gave to her. “Shall we say one hundred creds for this entire bin?”
“One hundred?” The Vakutan gapes in mock disbelief. “For such fine foods? They’re worth hundred fifty. Easy.”
Marion doesn’t seem too shocked by his offer, and I suspect she may have low balled her own bid in an effort to get a good negotiating platform.
“One hundred and fifty is rather steep. These fruits are stunted. Obviously, they were treated with pesticides that inhibited their full growth. I can’t, in good conscience, pay more than one hundred and twenty credits for the lot.”
The Vakutan’s ridged face screws up in thought. He shakes his head slowly, as if considering her offer.
“I don’t know….it seems you take advantage of old Abo. My children are starving. One hundred forty, and you will help me prepare these for transit with your young, strong greaser back.”
“One hundred twenty-seven if you want my help. Otherwise I might be willing to go up to one hundred thirty-five.”
Abo’s eyes glitter for a moment, but then he coughs and adopts a somber frown.
“I suppose my children can make do with crumbs for one more day. Very well, one hundred thirty-five, and old Abo will throw out his back loading them for you.”
Abo spits in his palm, and then he and Marion shake. I cringe at the thought of doing something so unhygienic, but Marion didn’t bat an eye and neither did Varia. I guess that’s how they do it in places like this.
While Abo works to load our sled with the fruit, cursing in Vakutan the entire time, Marion sends Varia and me across the street to another stall to pick up some pika melons she’s already deemed worthy of our food stores. The melons are fat, heavy yellow things with a weird jagged stem that resembles a lightning bolt. To my taste, they are ridiculously sweet to the point of annoyance, but if you mix the juice with vodka, it becomes most palatable.
This merchant isn’t nearly as dramatic as Abo, but there’s another problem. Four gross of pika melons won’t quite fit on our hover sled. Varia and I wind up slinging mesh sacks brimming with pika melons over our shoulders. Shit. Where’s Grantian? I could use a big, strong man right about now.
Varia and I move across the street to Abo’s stand while the Vakutan merchant and Marion finish up their deal. I’m tempted to rest my burden on the ground, but I needed Varia’s help to get the stupid sack over my shoulder the first