Von and the space elf decided to make it a deal.
"Cool, sounds like we've got a deal," Von said. "Uh, I think you make deals on terminals, right? I'll log in. Just give me your ID."
"Sure. But if you stalk me, I'm blocking you." They handed each other their small info terminals and exchanged communication IDs.
Her name popped up: Mia. Now Von not only had a name for her, but they could also trade goods between their ships via the terminals.
"Hmm. Von, huh? That's a really simple name."
"Shut up. Mia's just as simple, isn't it?"
"Maybe, but it's much prettier."
"Yeah, whatever," Von groaned. Why was she so competitive over every little thing? Agreeing with her only made her grin widen.
Maybe she was one of those lonely attention-seeking types. Von hurried to send the booze to Mia's ship. She accepted the contract right away, and the containers moved to her hold.
"How does the transfer actually work?" Von asked.
"You don't know? They made it so connected hangars can access the colony's mass transport system. That's how they move stuff between the ships."
"Huh, interesting." So, moving cargo around was automatic here. Sounded like hauling crates by hand was a relic of centuries past.
"How long have you been a mercenary, Mia?" Von asked.
"Five years. I'm practically a veteran in this galaxy."
"Huh, I see." six years. That was even longer than Astria Online had existed. She truly did outrank Von.
"Guess you really are my senior. Thanks for the help."
"That's much better. It's good to respect your elders!"
"Elders?"
"I'll have you know that I'm fifty-four years old."
"What? How? Is it just a lot of makeup or something?" Von asked. Mia didn't even look like she'd hit twenty, let alone fifty.
"Nope. We just live a lot longer than humans. No matter how healthy humans are, they all die out by the time they hit 150. Our natural lifespans are at least 500 years long."
"Oh, so it's a difference in species, huh? If you've been a merc for six years, then that means you started at forty-eight years old, right? What was your life like before that?"
"does it matter?! It's rude to pry into a merc's past, y'know!" Mia snapped and jabbed a finger at Von. It looked like he'd hit a sore spot.
Von raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, my bad for asking. I was just curious. But just so you know, if you get that mad about the question, you're basically confirming something bad happened."
"Mrgh… A-as long as you understand."
Yikes, whatever it was must have been truly awful. Von didn't want to pry. Better to avoid bringing it up and making her angry.
Mia gathered herself and they started walking together again. Von tried a change of topic: merc basics. That should be safe. He admitted, his first impression of her as a poor little space elf prepared him for a ridiculous answer. But no! She actually gave him sound advice.
"When you take a request, you have to go through your mercenary guild. Especially if you want to avoid trouble," she said.
"Guilds, huh? Speaking of, I gotta sign up."
"What?! You're a newbie and unlicensed?! You need to register before you even think about bothering with groceries!"
"Oh, okay. Sorry."
She grabbed Von's jacket and dragged him back the way they came. A mercenary guild's office sat right next to the elevator from the hangar bay. Mia fumed as she lectured Von on the dangers of being unlicensed. According to her, mercenaries not registered to a guild would be treated basically the same as pirates, just without the bounty.
In some cases, they could even be refused docking rights.
"Tough universe out there," Von said.
"As it should be! What, you think they shouldn't be worried about some random weirdo flying around in a ship that could take down the whole colony in a single shot? How have you not been arrested yet?!" Mia replied.
"Heh. It's funny you should mention that. I've got one heck of a tearjerker for you." They reached the mercenary guild's office as Von spoke. He'd have to explain some other time.
The office was way nicer than Von imagined it would be. For one thing, it was bright. The lights reflected off shiny floors.
Cushioned, backless stools and a few counters furnished a waiting room. A signboard dangled from the ceiling above each counter. There weren't too many employees, though. Maybe this wasn't a very lucrative gig.
"It looks more like a government office than a mercenary guild," Von said.
"They're pretty much the same around here. Let's go to the reception desk," Mia said.
"Sure." They approached a counter behind which sat a stern-looking man covered in scars. His left arm was a mechanical prosthetic. Now, this was starting to look like a mercenary guild.
"Hey, what d'ya want?" he asked.
Here's the passage with grammatical errors removed and names changed:
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"We've got a newbie!" the elf said. "He's been running around unlicensed."
"Damn, unlicensed? I've heard of your kind, but you're the first I've seen. Sit right over here, my man."
"Uh, yes, sir," Von said. He sat as directed. This guy meant business. If Von had met him in his past life, he'd have done everything he could to avoid him.
He just oozed crazy mafia.
"If you're going around unlicensed, you at least gotta have a ship, yeah? Tell me your ship name and ID. Is it parked in this hangar?"
"Yes, sir," Von said.
"Pfft! You're awfully nice outta nowhere. Are you scared?" Mia teased.
"Quiet, you." Von glared at Mia. She covered her mouth and giggled at him regardless. But seriously, how could he blame her? Anyone would be intimidated by this guy.
The scary receptionist entered Von's ship name and ID into a tablet. "I ain't never seen a ship like this," he said. "What's the deal?"
"Oh, uh, origin is unknown. But I didn't steal it, I swear," Von said.
"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't," the receptionist said. "Ah, whatever. It's bad manners to bother mercs about their pasts, anyway. It looks like you hunted three pirate ships two days ago. Is that it? You don't have any docking history, buddy."
"I ended up near this colony because of some hyperdrive accident or something. My memories are pretty fuzzy. I'm not even sure where exactly I am. U-um, sir."
"For real? Uh…hell with it, I don't care. At least there's no bounty on you. Also, cut out the politeness. People are gonna think you're soft."
"Gotcha." It took real guts to talk casually to a guy like him.