Deal Done Bad

The Montoya was berthed in Fueling Bay 2-A. James Sandersen had the annoying habit of liking to run the ship down below manufacturer's recommendation on fuel levels. He also ran the ship past suggested maintenance schedules, but that was due to finances more than any other factor.  Sandersen always insisted that the shipbuilders were in a cartel with the fuelers, but that was neither here nor there.

Currently, he and Marcia Tangles were waiting in one of the seediest back alleys Sandersen had ever been in--and he had been in quite a few in his career. They were waiting for someone named Maurchant. James had never heard of him, but Marcia vouched to his reliability at getting his hands on contraband. She wouldn't vouch for much else about him, though, and that troubled him.

He didn't like the fact that he had been forced to returning to drug-running and gun-running, but he desperately needed the revenue. He was already several payments behind on the Montoya, couldn't afford to have the ship's drives overhauled, and had missed the last payroll. Luckily, most of his crew were friends that had served with him in his days in the Republic Navy and they were willing to ride out a bad spell with the finances.

Marcia suggested the smuggling--she knew that that's what he got started with, after he left the Navy--confident in his ability to fast-talk his way past customs and searches. He wasn't too keen on the recently increased penalties for transport of contraband: confiscation of ship and ten years in a Navy prison. She assured him, though, that they would work their way through it just like they had back then.

He did know, however, that he needed to get some money and get it quick.

A gruff voice said, "You Sandersen?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Call me Maurchant." A man walked out from the shadows, metal casings covered his legs. He looked unarmed.

James stopped fiddling with the pistol he had stuffed in his jacket. "Yeah, I'm Sandersen. Let's get this over with."

"You got the money?"

"If you have the merchandise."

James never like this part of the game. The mutual distrust. The dancing around the business at hand.