The Street Survivors (The Guild Wars Book 12) by Ian Malone (great books of all time TXT) 📕

name is familiar, but my recollection of them is somewhat…hazy. The KzSha are insectoids, yes?”

“They are indeed.” Stan flipped the chit onto the table, where a slime-covered pseudopod snaked out to grab it.

I really don’t wanna know where that thing has been. Taylor winced.

“What else can you tell us?” Stan asked.

Scarface’s expression seemed to drift. “It’s difficult to say. We conduct so many transactions in this galaxy that many of them tend to blend together. I might need more time to consider your question.”

Stan produced another chit, this one representing 1,000 credits, and showed it to the aliens. “Just so we’re clear, that memory of yours will need to get a helluva lot clearer before this one hits the table.”

Scarface’s round black eyes widened. “The fog is lifting. Yes, I remember now.”

Funny how that works.

“Our exchange with the KzSha happened about two months ago,” Scarface said. “Truth be told, it was one of the easiest transactions I’ve ever conducted. My crew arrived at the designated coordinates, then paid our fees and collected our cargo. Afterward, the KzSha went their way, and we went ours—no questions, no backstabbing. It was a most favorable exchange.”

Jack muttered a curse. “By cargo, you mean sentient beings.”

“Terminology is irrelevant,” Scarface said. “We are Dutya, not clergy. We were paid to procure cargo from the KzSha and deliver it to our buyers off world. It was no different than any other transaction.”

Taylor tried in vain to hide his disgust. “Where did this meet of yours take place?”

“The fog, it…seems to be returning.” Scarface’s expression began to drift again. “I remember a planet, but the name seems to be eluding me…”

Taylor nodded to Stan, who flipped over the chit.

“We received our cargo from them on Newtep in the Jesc arm,” Scarface said.

“Is that where the KzSha operate from?” Taylor asked.

“No,” Scarface said. “Newtep was just a stopover for them. Although…”

Taylor wrinkled his nose. “Although, what?”

“I did hear a rumor…”

A long pause ensued.

“This is bullshit, Chief!” Genovese pounded the glass. “Don’t pay those scumbags another cent! Let me in there now, and I swear to gods they’ll give up their own mothers by the time I’m done with them!”

Taylor glared back at the mirror, then motioned to Stan, who tossed out another chit.

“It’s probably nothing,” Scarface continued. “Another freighter captain I know said he heard from one of his companions at The Essence that the KzSha maintain a hive colony on the planet Droxis in the same system as Newtep. That’s apparently where they hide their…umm…inventory, until it’s time to deliver said resources to market.”

“So we’re takin’ intel from psychic alien hookers now.” Jack palmed his face. “That’s fargin fantastic.”

“As I told you, it’s just a rumor,” Scarface admitted. “For all I know, the story is complete rubbish. Nevertheless, if I read you humans correctly, you intend to find that out for yourselves.”

“And if we are?” Stan asked.

Scarface leaned forward, black eyes narrowing in their stalks. “I sincerely hope you do.”

“Why’s that?’ Taylor asked.

“Because then you’ll be the ones in chains,” Scarface said with a touch of amusement. “Mark my words, apes. The KzSha will cut down your crew like a buzz saw. As it stands, you could scarcely defeat a group of inebriated Dutya in a surprise ambush outside a brothel. Now you expect to pit that same pathetic effort against a fighting force as ferocious as the wasps?” He snorted. “The KzSha will tear your crew to shreds, then sell off what’s left to the highest slave market bidder. My only regret is that I won’t be there when it happens.”

Taylor gnawed his lip as part of him began to reconsider Genovese’s offer. “One last question. What do you know about the River Hawk Defense Group from Earth?”

“Never heard of them.” Scarface oozed to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, neither my lieutenant nor I have anything further to barter with for additional credits. I expect that means we’re done here.”

Taylor signaled Reigns back into the room. “Our guests here are free to go. See to it they’re escorted straight back the way they came and directly off the ship. After that, report to the bridge on the double. You’re on graveyard duty.”

“Ayew.” Reigns snapped a salute, then herded the aliens out as Genovese and Frank entered the room.

“What makes you think we can trust their intel?” the Buma asked.

Taylor peered down the hallway to ensure the Dutya were out of earshot. “Sadly, Frank, after tonight, I think it’s fair to say words like trust and Dutya probably won’t go together in a sentence around here for a very long time. Problem is, their Droxis tip is the only viable lead we have. All we can do now is run it down as best we can and hope for the best.”

“Hope.” Genovese frowned. “Seems like that’s in pretty short supply these days.”

“That may be, Captain, but it ain’t all gone just yet.” Taylor patted the other’s shoulder. “Hang in there. Dismissed.”

* * * * *

Chapter 11: Street Survivors

Taylor departed the brig after sharing an extra word with the Farts and headed for his quarters with a stampede of questions running roughshod through his mind. What are the KzSha up to out here? Why Emza? Why the River Hawks? None of it added up.

Taylor coasted into his room after reaching the entrance and made himself tea before settling into his favorite chair in front of the Tri-V to think. There’s gotta be a point to all this. There’s just gotta be. Taylor checked the time after what felt like 20 minutes. Two and a half hours. Really? The time was just shy of 2330.

Resigned to the notion that sleep would be elusive at best that evening, Taylor pushed himself upward, then headed