Shaun-Lyatt
Thanks to Futti, I was able to smoothly dock at berth number 37.
That idiot Teval didn’t seem to know I was Sumerian after all.
Well, I didn’t plan on telling him anyway.
In any case, once the ship arrives, my job is done.
“Thanks for taking the sudden request. The omelet sandwiches were pretty good.”
“No, my apologies for the poor quality. Besides, you probably could have avoided the extra expense by waiting on the other side of Orlangea.”
I pointed to the external camera monitor installed at the spaceport, showing the arrival of a high-speed shuttle from Starflight Company.
It seems the strike has ended and they’ve started flying again.
“You may be right, but there was also a possibility of a prolonged strike. We should avoid risks, don’t you think?”
The male client, Mr. Carzan, showed a refreshing smile.
“Um…I must apologize for my rudeness earlier.”
In contrast, the female client Ms. Renal was bowing her head shyly,
clearly apologizing for becoming upset earlier.
“Oh…did I do something rude…?”
“Absolutely not!”
“huh?”
She denied it so forcefully that my reputation is definitely intact.
“Well, shall we head for the descent shuttle while it’s still early? Excuse me then.”
“Thank you for choosing our flight.”
I gave them a polite smile.
I’ve already received the completion documents, so I just need to go to the cargo delivery reception to get paid.
The cargo delivery reception here on the planet Soarcul is pretty huge.
Unlike the half urban, half rural place like the planet Orlangea where I’m based, this is a complete metropolitan area with a large population and high volume of logistics.
Instead of having a single counter for receiving orders and payments like Orlangea, the windows here are divided into separate reception, payment, and cargo type categories.
So for this passenger transport job, I’m headed to the payment window for that.
“Job complete. Please process accordingly.”
“Why, if it isn’t Lyatt san. Presenting as a female today, I see.”
I handed the completion documents to the receptionist Rona, who received them.
Unlike the more casual Sasara, Rona is a bespectacled girl who handles things seriously.
“Unfortunately my ‘time of the month’ has come around.”
“That must be tough.”
While making conversation, her hands worked diligently to complete the process.
“Please scan your wrist terminal list-com on the verification checker.”
Following her instructions, I waved my wrist terminal over the scanner, which beeped in confirmation.
“Identity confirmed. Will the full reward amount in cash be acceptable?”
“Half in data-money, please.”
“Understood.”
Another electronic beep sounded.
“The 300,000 credit reward. Half as data, half in cash. Please confirm.”
Rona handed me 150,000 credits worth of data and 150,000 in cash.
With that, the job is officially complete.
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After refueling the ship, I tossed the laundry into the onboard washing machine.
I don’t run it for solo flights or short passenger trips, so it had piled up a bit.
In the meantime, I went out for my “refueling” shopping run.
The spaceport has various facilities to meet the needs of space-dwellers.
There are markets selling fresh produce, daily necessities, clothing, accessories, furniture, bedding, books, entertainment goods, medicine, portable weapons, junk parts, small spacecraft, and spacecraft parts.
It’s also well-equipped with all kinds of restaurants, brand stores, movie theaters, libraries, gyms, rental offices, spas, hospitals, hotels, and even adult establishments.
Among them, the food court area with its assortment of eateries is popular with cargo haulers like me.
After restocking supplies from the market and loading them onto the ship, then putting away the laundry in the closet, I headed to the food court for dinner.
This food court can be found in any spaceport, serving as a gathering spot for peers in the business to exchange information.
Of course, if you don’t know anyone there, then no information gets exchanged.
I ordered a mixed grill plate with bread and coffee, and was quietly enjoying my meal when suddenly:
“Yo Shaun. Appearing in female form must mean you’re finally gonna be my girl, huh?”
The bulky, leather-clad man who plopped himself down next to me was Tony-Murdock,
a fellow cargo hauler.
“Ain’t it great? Finally gonna be with the great me, babe!?”
As he spouted his ridiculous lines and tried to put his arm around me, I pointed a short-handled pistol at his jaw.
“Be with you how?”
“H-Hey…let’s grab a bite, on me?”
“Thanks, but you can treat me next time.”
Once Tony removed his arm, I put away the gun.
While a ray gun or blaster would work fine for self-defense, I lack confidence with bigger guns, so I use a pistol to limit potential collateral damage if discharged.
It can still severely injure or kill, so it’s sufficient for defense.
“Bro, I got the burgers and cola!”
At that moment, a short young man with a soft mohawk haircut, dressed similarly in a leather rider suit, arrived holding burgers and drinks.
“Oh, if it isn’t Ms. Shaun! Presenting as a lady today, huh?”
“My ‘time of the month’ came around.”
“That’s rough.”
This is Samson-Kastas.
Tony’s sidekick…or rather, the kid Tony takes under his wing.
Tony handles the ship’s operation and maintenance, while Sam takes care of things like receiving jobs, negotiating, gathering information, and paperwork.
To be frank, the adult Tony is definitely less reliable than Sam.
“By the way, you hear about the Starflight Company strike?”
“Thanks to that I got paid, but had to give up my time off.”
“Not that part, bro. I mean how it ended about twenty minutes ago.”
This was news to both Tony and me.
“For real, Sam? You sure about that?”
“Yeah bro. Apparently they reluctantly resumed service this morning because customers were fussing, but rumor is they might strike again on the cargo side in the next few days.”
Actually, Sam is quite a famous information broker.
He won’t reveal how he obtains his information, but it’s fast and accurate, so he receives many offers from various places.
However, he always declines, saying, “I’m one with my brother, so I can’t.”
“Moreover, there’s talk that not just passenger ships but also cargo operations might go on strike in the next few days.”
“So what, more forced labor for us with little pay?!”
Tony made a bitter face after hearing Sam’s information.
While Starflight does handle some government lifeline services, if those get disrupted for some reason, us cargo haulers get forcibly called in for emergency duty.
We get paid, sure, but it’s a pitiful amount not worth the intense labor involved.
To avoid that, the only option is to take an extended job away from this area.
“Anyway Shaun, as payment for the info, let me get a two-shot with you, yeah?!”
Sam’s eyes lit up as he leaned in closer to me.
I had a bad feeling, but couldn’t exactly refuse since he’s shared helpful info besides this time.
“One shot only.”
“Nice!”
After getting my permission, Sam took out his multipurpose tool to take a selfie, extending his arm to my side.
And at the moment of the photo shoot, he forcefully pressed his face against my chest.
My bad feeling came true.
Tony immediately grabbed Sam and started grinding his knuckles against his temple.
“You Sam! How envious!”
“Ow ow ow! I give up bro!”
He’s capable at his job, cheerful, and likeable, but his only flaw is being a perverted brat.
“Yo. Looks lively.”
“It’s been a while, everyone.”
As Tony was disciplining Sam, a black-skinned man with a reggae style, and a faceless female android wearing a pastel-colored bodysuit came over.
The man was Charlie-Lex, a businessman and broker.
The faceless female android with him was Tirana, Charlie’s secretary android.
“Just taking it easy!”
“Ow ow ow ow! Bro! Please let up already!”
Tony was grinding Sam’s temple like a vise grip with all his strength.
“What’s up? Did Sam harass someone again? Well, Shaun’s the female version so can’t blame him.”
“This perverted brat does it to anyone.”
Since there were photos earlier, I didn’t help him.
It’s no joke to say his harassment was my fault.
“Nah, he just hits on people. You let it slide ’cause he’s a kid. Tirana’s originally a pleasure android so she doesn’t care. But he’d never pull that with the scary Sasara or Ladies gangs.”
Tony shows no mercy, fully understanding his subordinate’s nature.
“Tony sama. Sam sama’s face is turning blue…”
Tirana reports Sam’s condition after observing him.
“Ah, crap.”
Seeing Sam’s state, Tony reluctantly releases him, realizing he went too far.
As the limp Sam falls into Tirana’s arms,
“Are you okay?”
“Might not…make it…”
He firmly pressed his face into her chest.
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