Rebexa Jissard, Space Smuggler

Rebexa spots the ambush on the way from her docked ship to the rendezvous. The ambushers look like a posse of worthless thugs of indeterminate species. She circles the station cantina from the other side, going through the scuzzy dark corridor to neutralize the thugs from point blank range. It’s easy. None of the petty thugs were watching their own backs, and her blaster does quiet work.

She passes a pawnshop at the corner of the corridor and goes into the cantina. Her reptiloid contact is there in a booth. Rebexa sits down, pushing her neon purple bangs out of her eyes. “What’s the job, Drusz?”

Drusz’s forked tongue darts out. He holds up a wriggling tube wrapped tightly in anonymous plastic. “Get this to Nero Five. Payment on delivery.”

Rebexa cocks an eyebrow. “That’s on the other side of the tentakulon nebula, Drusz. You are asking me to put my ass and pussy on the line here. My rate’s double and I need half now.”

Drusz speaks softly not to be overheard. “You’re a professional. The rate’s standard. This is a confidential delivery. Get it done.”

Rebexa pushes the blaster she’s holding under the table into Drusz’s gonads. “Half now, or I walk and who knows who else might hear about this confidential delivery.”

Drusz’s eyes dart to the cantina stage, where a gorgeous space stripper is twirling tassels about her minty green nipples. He looks back at Rebexa and feels the blaster barrel pushing into his anatomy. He pushes a credit chip across the table to Rebexa. “Half now. Get it done.”

Rebexa studies him, then grabs the chip and the wriggling package. “Sure. No sweat.”

Her reptiloid contact stands up. “Always a pleasure to see you, Rebexa. If you’ll excuse me, I must use the lizard room now.”

He walks away past the minty green stripper. Rebexa studies the reptiloid’s back and thinks about the job when a surprising new thought enters her head.

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Comment a suggestion from the voice for Rebexa.