**Actionette - Black Market**

Who: Jay, Mk.10
Where: Remote underground car park
When: One week after the 'Dwarf was stolen
<snip>
Seymour let out a huge gasp of breath and phoned Jay when they had left.
"All clear." he reported.
<end snip>
"Roger that, keep us posted."
Jay pulled off his headphones and sat back from makeshift
communications station they had erected on one of the car park's
lowest levels.
"Hey, Ten. Take over from me for a bit." he called
"Yeah, just give me a second." Mk.10 replied, "I'm just fixing up some
of the weapons that the firing range boys have been reporting with
frequent jams."
"Do you honestly think we could hold off a full-force assault from the
natives?"
"With luck it won't come to that, but we want to at least force them
into a strategic retreat."
Mk.10 placed the patchwork bazookoid down on a table along with all
the others, and trotted over to the comm. centre, plugging himself
straight into the interface.
"Any progress on locating the 'Dwarf?" Asked Mk.10, swivelling on the
chair.
"Nope. We've not had any word from the guys still aboard." Said Jay.
"After all, they could be anywhere in the damn galaxy by now. How's
the food situation?"
"Pretty grim, we're down to the emergency rations in the `bugs."
"What, you mean that purple goo that comes in the foil sacks?"
"Yeup."
"Looks like we'll have to send another disguised squad into the city
markets to try and grab some more food. See if they can't nick a
sub-space transceiver whilst they're out, it's the only way we'll ever
stand a chance of contacting the big blue."
"On it boss, I'll radio a few guys to meet up here for briefing."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Who: Boris, Jed, and some random goons
Where: Blue Dwarf's security centre holding cells
When: Same time (virtually)
Jed stared up the gun barrel pointing down at him.
"Don't worry 'captain', I'm just here to chat." said Boris Vasquez,
with a superior smirk plastered across his face.
"Shame. Ah was lookin' fer a fight." Jed spat.
"Just wondered if perhaps you wanted to be dropped off home. We should
be passing New Texas in a few weeks."
Jed blinked for a moment as he thought this through.
"You see this is one hell of a fine ship you've got here cap', and
with this nifty wormhole drive, some folk would pay an awful lot of
cash for it. Not to mention, everyone still aboard would be worth
something as slave labour too."
"An' you figgur the Nouveau Terran Sector would be th' best place to
pawn it off."
"Laws are pretty bendy 'round there. I'm sure someone would be happy
to get their hands on this beast. 'Course, it'll take some time to get
there; as you know, the wormhole drive can't penetrate the sector's
protective cloud."
"An' the small turtle entourage?" asked Jed, gesturing with his bound
hands towards the Shellites flanking Boris.
"Seems these boys latched onto the ship during our festivities. Cut
straight through the hull. Seems their race aint too pleased with
their kids running off to mix with other races, so they buggered off
in a stolen spaceship. All things considered, it wasn't too hard to
get them to help us out."
Boris turned towards the door as he heard the sound of rapid
footsteps, and was soon met with one of the younger mutineers.
"Sir, we're detecting disturbances in some of the lower decks. Seems
like some crew members forming a resistance."
"Send down a few squads of men, and maybe try convincing one or two of
the GELF gangs down in the maintenance decks to give them some trouble."
The young man saluted Boris and raced back out of the room.
"Sorry Jed," said Boris, turning back to the man still down on his
knees at gunpoint, "Can't let your boys get too at home."
A realisation dawned on Jed, as a sudden and unusual rush of panic
gripped him.
"Gorram it! I hope you were joking about droppin' me off at New Texas!"
"Why's that?"
"Well...there have been some...misunderstandings between me
an'...well, most of the people on that miserable rock."
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