I made my way to an electronics goods shop over at the market area of Wilson City Starport to meet my second appointment. A small woman that looked like a wrinkly toad that evolved in a place with double the normal gravity sat hunched behind the counter. My Elysium Corp. liaison, Teekay, was already there, making small talk with the space toad.

The shop was sparse, dark, mouldy and small. Some people go through great troubles when setting up a front. Others don’t give it a moment’s thought. This was a case of the latter. Rows of shelves sat emptily on each wall, lonely pieces of electronics and tools laid on them, gathering dust. I made my way to the counter, putting on my friendliest grin.

Teekay’s job as a system liaison meant she was, in fact, head of Elysium Security Services in the system. She had the intel on everyone of note on the station and every outpost in Apala. She told me who to talk to and what to expect. From our previous discussion, this deal, just as the rest, was routine. We were not even trying to make much of a profit off the combat stabilizers. Salesmanship not required.

I was halfway to the counter when I heard the door behind me open and someone walk in with heavy, deliberate steps. I turned around casually in time to see a large man with brightly dyed blue hair take long strides in my direction. At that very moment, a reptilian part of my brain that doesn’t seem to get enough exercise noticed him draw a weapon and pull the trigger.

I opened my mouth wide, in shock and surprise. As if that was any sort of protection against being shot at.

No muzzle flash. Energy weapon then. Classy. My death will be swift.

Except I remained standing, my face frozen in a stupid grimace. I know about the expression I made because Teekay sent a holoclip to the entire Apala Operation team. Everyone had a good laugh on my expense. I still find still shots of that face pasted all over our Corporate Headquarters to this day.

The blue-haired behemoth had not shot me. But by the way his arm was shifting and the changing direction of where the gun was being aimed at, it was clear it was next on his agenda. At the distance he was in, it would have been more difficult to miss.

That same primeval part of my cerebellum must have decided that dying would not be the healthiest choice for the organism it was responsible for, and decided to override the clumsy thought-process that just kept getting in the way.

I swung my right fist with all the strength I could muster, my eyes watching in disbelief as my knuckles connected with the man’s face. My ears picked up a loud crack as his neck swung back, followed by his body, tumbling to the ground. The man pulled the trigger, but his shot went high and wide. My nervous system then informed me that the loud crack was not, as I hoped, the man’s face, but rather several useful bones in my hand. While my instinct decided a punch was a sound strategy, it failed to take into account my fists had never really been used in a violent manner, and, therefore, I was unable to make a proper fist.

Live and learn, I guess.

Teekay rushed towards me, grabbed me by the left arm, and dragged my confused self out the store. I looked back, dumfounded, as we exited the store, noticing a large burn mark with what appeared to be boiled blood on the wall behind the counter, and a large blue-haired man groaning on the ground.

Something about Teekay’s composure and attitude to the whole turn of events was completely wrong, or at least, not the appropriate reaction I would have expected. As she dragged me through the busy market district, quick steps pushing through the throng of people towards the docking area of the starport, I noticed what was wrong.

She was smiling! She appeared to be genuinely amused.

We caught a transport tram on the Market District terminal, my head turning wildly, scanning the crowd, my eyes peeled for any blue hair sticking out of the crowd. The pain in my hand got exponentially worse with each passing second, the adrenaline quickly wearing off. We sat near the back and I mumbled. I wasn’t thinking straight, something I attributed to shock, but then again, sometimes I act dumb under pressure.

Teekay fished out a small rectangular box from her bag and produced a canister. She shook it for a second, raised my right hand, and sprayed a cool foam around it. Almost instantly, the pain subsided, and the foam hardened, immobilizing my now even more useless appendage.

“Care to explain why you seem to be so happy?” I stuttered, my brain functions returning to normal as the transport tram picked up speed. None of the other passengers appeared to be remotely interested in a terrified man getting his hand placed in a foam cast. Public transport etiquette has not changed in millennia.

Teekay put the tiny first aid kit away and brushed a fleck of hair off her face. She looked like she could be 24 or 80 years old. With technology the way it was, you could never tell. Plus, she had the smile of a kid up to no good.

“We don’t need to go around giving Combat Stabilizers anymore,” She replied, grinning. My puzzled expression prompted her to elaborate. “Our little plan for this system is going better than anticipated.” Then, in a more hushed voice, “The CID and Clandestine Operatives have been busy. Your part would have made our job easier, but there is no need for that now.”

“And the blue haired thug?” I followed up. “How does he fit in in this wonderful scenario of yours?”

“Well, him, or rather them, we did not anticipate to get involved so soon. Aisling Duval fanatics. You get people pledged to Duval, your regular combat pilots and traders and the sort who pick a side for whatever reason. Then you get this particular breed of crazies, the ones who dye their hair blue and believe her to be some space goddess come down to liberate them from the enslavement of humanity or something.”

My eyes went back to scanning my surroundings for blue hair. “And having this kind of people shooting at us makes you happy?”

“Oh, certainly!” She replied, getting up to exit the tram at the upcoming stop. “We hoped they would get involved. Which means we have to hurry. If they already showed up once, I can guarantee we will see them again.”

“Wait, what?” I muttered, stepping off the transport and following her quick pace through the docking area towards my ship.

“How fast do you think you can get us off station?” After her previous comment, it did not feel much like a question.