The entrance to the shop was an open doorway two meters wide. Inside, on both walls of the shop, tiered shelving rose to the three-meter-high ceiling. Other shelves were positioned perpendicular to the wall, forming a maze of forgotten artifacts. Random ship parts were nearly overflowing from the shelves, and some larger items rested on the floor. The disorganization and compact layout were unappealing, but Cris was too intrigued by the dream of eventually having his own ship to care.

The perpendicular offshoots from the shelves prevented a direct view deeper into the store. With no proprietor in sight, Cris headed toward the back. He weaved through the shelves until he came to an open area.

A young woman was lounging on a metal counter, her long legs crossed with one of her booted feet bobbing in the air. She looked to be a few years older than Cris, and had dark hair with fuchsia highlights that was pulled up into a sloppy ponytail. Long bangs fell over her maple eyes. When Cris approached, she looked up. She appraised him and smiled. "Well, hello there." She slid off the counter.

"Hi," Cris replied. "Do you work here?"

"I do." She looked Cris over again. "What can I do for you?" She shifted her weight to one hip and stood akimbo. Though she was fairly tall and thin, her revealing clothing emphasized every curve.

Cris tried to keep his eyes on her face. "I saw on your sign that you have ships for sale."

She nodded. "That's right. In the market for anything in particular?"

"Just browsing for now. How much for a basic craft with a jump drive?"

"Well, let's take a look at our inventory." The woman sauntered around to the back side of the counter and grabbed a tablet from underneath. She placed the tablet on the counter and activated a holographic projection of the inventory list, which included images of the crafts and some basic features. She drummed her fingers on the counter. "Need room for passengers? Traveling with anyone?"

"Not really. Just me." Cris looked around the equipment in the shop. Some of it was worn, but much of it appeared to be almost brand new.

"Okay, let's see..." After flicking through the list of ships, the woman selected one and brought up a more detailed display on the projector. "This would be your best bet. For something entry-level."

The ship was only ten meters long and had the aerodynamic look of a craft designed for atmospheric entry. While it would be functional, Cris doubted he could stay sane in such a small space for any prolonged period of time. "How much?"

"76,000 credits."

There's no way I could spend that much without drawing suspicion. "Not bad, but it's a little more than I was hoping to spend."

The woman shrugged. "Well, you're paying for the scrubbed ID, of course."

"Of course." Stars! These are ships for smuggling. He realized with dismay that the new equipment around him was likely scrap from stolen vessels.

"How would you pay?" the woman asked. "We might be able to work out a deal."

The discomfort that had been pestering the back of Cris' mind since he entered the shop washed over him full-force—a wave of ill intent that now seemed impossible to have missed before. "Really, I—"

He was cut off by the woman turning to yell deeper into the store. "Merl! We have a customer."

The sound of creaking metal drew Cris' attention to his side. A man with arms nearly the size of Cris' torso entered from a hidden doorway, blocking the exit path.

Simultaneously, Merl emerged from a back room behind the counter. He was two heads taller than Cris, all muscle, and had geometric tattoos on the side of his face and going up his bare arms. With his eyes fixed on Cris, he approached the counter. He put an arm around his slight companion. "Oh, Danni, you got us a good one."

"He's pretty, isn't he?" Danni said. "Traveling alone. And he comes with a nice bank account."

Shite! This is bad. Warnings flashed in Cris' mind, sending a chill down his spine. I don't think they just smuggle ship parts...

"How much do you think we could get for him?" Danni asked Merl.

"Looks like good breeding," Merl replied, evaluating Cris. "Probably at least 50,000 credits to the right buyer."

The man from the side room took a step toward Cris.

Run! Cris bolted, ducking past the towering man who had come to block him in. He felt the breeze from the man's arms trying to grab him, but managed to make it through. After tearing around the maze of shelves, he ran full speed as soon as he was in the open corridor. He didn't slow until he was again surrounded by lively merchants and bright ads.

Cris stepped off to the side of the hall. He leaned forward, hands resting on his thigh—shaking and his breath ragged. He found an open stretch of wall to lean against. I should have seen that coming. Reading everyone's minds might not be polite, but perhaps some way necessary to protect himself.

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