"Do I have the opportunity for you!" Saul boasted to a shift worker at Flotsam Station's spacedock.
"I'm not tellin' you shit, old man," the dock clerk said in a grating Hirokian accent. "Now, step back from the console. Your breath is smudging my wallscreen."
Saul stepped back and spread his hands, turning to leave.
"I told you he'd be no help," said Aiden, following behind.
Saul stopped and turned back to the dock worker, a finger raised in protest.
"It's a simple question, my brother. You tell me where the Par Abadd's captain is, and I'll make you happy you did," Saul said with a crooked smile.
"Fookin' right yeah will! Besides, nothin' I can be offered. I'm a man, I provide what I need. Don't need nothin' from nobody, brother." His eyes narrowed.
"Look," Saul started, leaning in for a closer look at the clerk's company badge. "...Karl, they call you?"
"Glory me, he can read!" Karl the dockworker spat. Aiden snickered from behind Saul.
"Now, Karl," he said with barely masked condescension, "have a look at the insignia on my jacket. You can see plainly what that means."
Karl paused looking at his wallscreen and studied the triple chevron below a gilded lily. He raised an eyebrow.
"It means nothing out here, grandpa," Karl snorted.
"It means that I have the backing of the Sovereignty's illustrious Hirrok Merchant Navy and that of our dear Queen."
"Queen's far from here. Besides, you Navy dogs can hardly ever be seen anywhere on the inner station."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means you're alone on this station, brother. Amn't nobody here to have your back. Besides him o'course," Karl said, gesturing to Aiden. "And he don't look Navy."
"Newly reactivated," Aiden said with a slight nod.
"Yeah, and where's your jacket, boy? That as it may…" the clerk continued. "You're two. Look around. Dock's full of dockers."
"Brother, brother," Saul waved. "I think we've got off on the west side of tasteful here."
"There it is again! Brother, brother. Take your brother someplace else," Karl mocked before brushing them away.
"Tact just leaks out every hole on you, doesn't it?" Aiden jeered to Saul as they walked out of the office.
They walked over and stood on the edge of Berth Forty, looking out at the uninspired drab-grey portside hull of the freighter, the name "Par Abadd" poorly scrawled from midship to cone. Though nearly a kilometre outside the dock field, the massive freighter looked as if it were close enough to reach out and touch. Several smaller craft tended to refueling while others scurried about applying patchwork over scars carved by meteorite and debris impacts. Such damage regularly studded a vessel of that size, especially during an in-system trip. Though it looked like The Par Abbad had lapsed a few cycles on maintenance.
Aiden whistled. "Sure as rotten old earth that ship's hauling a serious payday."
"If only we could pop across the way to take a peek," Saul joked.
"That's… not entirely out of the question."
"Come on now, Aiden. Have you been holding out on me?"
"Like you held me out in the sun with Admiral Gleenson?"
Saul snorted.
"I deserve that... and more. Held you off a cliff just for a chance to chase Gleenson's coattails. And look at me now, out on the fringes of the Quarter, looking to turn pirate just for a quick payoff. Tables turning and all that." Saul remarked.
"Deserved it you did," Aiden chuckled dryly. "Pull off this heist and you'll have made it up to me, nearly."
Several hours later, Saul sat slurping a forkful of noodles at a street cart on the mess level. Aiden had gone off to meet up with some local contacts, or as he put it — dig some rats out of their holes. Saul shot back the last drop of savoury chicken-flavoured broth and slid the bowl away. The cart's chef took the bowl with a bow, an ancient custom which Saul thought was a pointless reflection of the old Earth and its dead customs. These days, people were just people. Sure, they still served the Sovereignty's lords and ladies, but out here, that didn't seem to matter.
As Saul stood to leave, Aiden entered, a dirty-looking man standing behind him.
"Earth be damned! You nearly ended this old man's life," Saul said.
"Wouldn't be much of a feat," Aiden said. "Eating at a place like this... you're clearly achin' for a quick end anyways."
"Who's your friend, Aiden?" Saul asked.
"Name's Charles," the dirty man said through a thick east Asian accent. He extended his hand to Saul.
"Charles here has the lowdown on ship manifests here on the docks," Aiden said in a vaguely triumphant tone.
"I may know some people," Charles said. "Or, I may not."
"And you'll be taking a portion of proceeds from our little venture as payment, I take it?" Saul asked.
"Seems so." Charles grinned.
"Let's have it, then. Slip the manifest to my terminal."
"Not so quick. I cannot simply transfer you what I do not already possess," Charles said.
"Don't already possess?" Saul raised an eyebrow.
"You see, dear captain, Charles here knows people. People that can get us into where we are itching to be."
"People– What people?" Saul said incredulously.
"Code breakers, muscle, dockworkers, Sovvo informants. You know, people. People you need for this heist of yours," said Charles.
Saul considered for a moment. If he got in bed with a local thug like Charles, there would be no turning back. The whole matter would lurch from the hypothetical out into real space. Sure, he had started the wheel turning when he hired on Aiden, something his first mate Tidus would not be too pleased about. But now he was considering abandoning everything he had worked for over the last three decades.
Since his first days of service, deep in the back of his mind, Saul had known he was serving a navy he never believed in. He had pledged himself to a flag and a monarch that he had never seen in person. He had been passed over for promotion several times before learning to play the dirty game, ousting Patey and assuming his position. Why should he serve a system that rewarded the vain, the treacherous, and the stagnant?
Maybe he was being foolhardy, but at least for once, he was about to decide something for himself.
"A heist we have then, brothers," he said. "Come, there's a lot to do."