The last few days have been pretty nuts. After the incident in BZ Ceti Gia invited me to stay with her for a couple of days. She’s lovely, and I really needed the company, so a few days in her apartment were just what the doctor ordered.

I couldn’t stay though. That wasn’t what I had in mind so once I found my feet again I kissed Gia goodbye and headed back into the black.

I did have ulterior motives, though I wasn’t going to tell “ex-security force” Gia what they were. You see I’d heard that the Crom Silver Boys were going to try and start producing Wolf Fesh again. To that end they were paying absolute top credit for the requisite ingredients to be smuggled to them at Weilheim Enterprise in Herthe. Not only were they willing to pay for the ingredients themselves, but they were also offering a hefty bonus for the people who supplied them the largest quantities.

Now ‘Fesh has never been my drug of choice, but I know enough about the drugs trade from the end users point of view that I knew that I could ingratiate myself with one of the suppliers. To that end I decided that I would head to Tranquility in Tarach Tor and have a word with one of the Tarach Spice merchants there. This was for a few reasons, firstly because it was within the Cobra’s jump range. Second, because it was far enough away from Herthe that the local market price would be pretty favourable.

Mostly though it’s because I fucking love ‘Spice. Sure it may be made from ground up beetles, and OK, it does give you green eyes – though personally I think that looks pretty cool; but it’s a great drug. It doesn’t completely fuck you up unless you really hit it hard, but it gives you this wonderful, euphoric feeling.


I managed to convince the supplier at Tranquility to fork over 16 tons to me by fluttering my eyelashes at him and smiling winsomely. The fact that I was willing to pay in advance probably didn’t hurt either. Then a hop skip and 10 jumps to Herthe, pausing briefly in interstellar space to skim a few grammes out of each cargo container for “consumer testing”.

On arriving at Weilheim Enterprise I had the joy of smuggling for the first time, the authorities here don’t take kindly to drugs in their station and while they may not care about you having enough for personal use even the most ambitious party girl can’t expect them to buy that 16 tonnes of exotic narcotics are just for yourself.


I dropped outside the station and observed the security wing outside. This was going to be hard. I pulled up the power management and turn off everything apart from the sensors, thrusters and power plant. The life support waning came on and switched me to emergency O2. The canopy frosted up as I began my approach.


The station controller came on the voice comms, a dude with a Scottish accent if I’m any judge.. “Commander we have lost your heat signature. Do you require assistance?”.

I keyed the comms. “Everything fine here sweetie, thanks for asking. Could you assign me a docking platform please?”.

The comms clicked again, “Docking permission granted Commander, please proceed to pad two-niner.”.

I pushed the throttle up gently, hit boost and then closed the heat vents entirely. I threaded my way past an Type 9 emerging from the letterbox and crunched down on the pad with a bounce. I grinned and opened the heat vents again.

I ran three more trips that night. There was a deadline and I wanted to be in the running for a reward. However by the time I’d done that I was shattered. I had wanted to try and do one more run but I was getting to the point where I was going to make a mistake and despite what the Shrew may think I’m not actually that reckless.

So I hit the bar. A little bag of ‘Spice in my pocket which I split with the guy behind the bar in exchange for free cocktails. It’s the first time I’ve had ‘Spice straight from the source and I guess the stuff I used to get at home must have been cut with something because this was fucking incredible. By the time I stumbled back to the Cobra, smoking a cigarette I was absolutely buggered. The free cocktails hadn’t helped either.

I was awoken the next morning by the comms panel beeping in the cockpit. I groaned and rolled out of the bunk; the sensation of the ship spinning had nothing to do with the station’s rotation. Looking in the mirror the whites of my eyes were a bright lime green.

“Jesus,” I muttered, “That was some really good shit.”.

I headed into the cockpit and opened up the comms panel. I had a message waiting for me.

“Congratulations Commander Low,

You have performed a great service for the Crom Silver Boys, and it shall not be forgotten. As a reward for your services you’re account has been credited with 20,754,736Cr. We look forward to working with you again in the future.”

I stated at the screen blankly. Fuck! 20 million credits. I was still too messed up to really deal with that so I did the only thing that I could do.

I went back to bed.

But I did know what I was going to call my Cobra now.


The Overnight Millionaire.



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