Handong cleaned the motor oil grease from her face, and stared at the obvious drug mule, nervous under the cool facade she wore. She was probably wondering if Handong had seen the packages of sunburn, the most expensive drug in the known universe, in the cargo trunk. She had. It explained why she had come to Handong’s shop, at least, instead of a place of better reputation. 

“Siyeon, right?” She asked, rhetorical, and the girl gave her a curt, stiff nod. She started to clean her hands, staring at Siyeon. “Well, it’s going to be an expensive fix. Upwards two thousand struanes, I think. Old ships tend to be like that, you know? Impossible to predict.”

Siyeon looked baffled. Handong counted down the seconds to the explosion. She looked like any rich girl who’d just gotten her first brand-name ship. Probably in her twenties and just got her inheritance, and was now spending it on frivolous things, like a cargo’s worth of sunburn.

“Old ship? This baby is from a few months ago, I bought it new!” She seemed nervous, and Handong, who rarely saw customers who weren’t the usual cool, calm and collected drug dealers that visited her in her little shop, a shady little thing in one of Jupiter’s smaller moons, only rose an eyebrow. Most of her business in there catered to people who didn’t want questions asked, didn’t offer answers, and paid well enough to keep other people quiet.

To Handong, it seemed like this girl was rather new. She did find it odd she was already transporting the hard-hitting drugs instead of the lighter stuff, like weed. She made a mental note to ask if Minji had received any. It had been a while for Handong since she’d smoked any.

That meant she wasn’t a drug dealer. Probably just someone who had gotten a ship malfunction at the wrong time. The stakes for her being a spoiled pain in the were too high for Handong’s tastes.

“Yeah? Then go to the mechanics on Callisto. I’m sure the military mechs will be fair with that amount of sunburn on your cargo.” Handong sneered, and the girl shut , lips closed into a tight line. She was having way too much fun with this. “What, cat got your tongue?”

Panic was written in her eyes, but Handong had to pay the bills, and she didn’t want to be caught dealing sunburn, of all things.

“Can’t you lower the price? That’s an urgent delivery to a certain birthday bash.” Handong recalled seeing on the news that it was the birthday of the daughter of the president of Jupiter. Damn, the girl wanted to have an explosive birthday party. That’d be a fun mess to watch. “I’m just the delivery man. Maybe…”

A blush over took her face as she started to undo the buttons of her shirt, and Handong, sleazy, tired, and in real need of a good one-night stand ever since she’d gotten kicked out of the only bar in Himalia after a particularly rowdy fight with Minji, leaned down on the ship. The hull was still warm, comfortable to the touch.

“Now we’re talking. Say, I’ve got a cot on the back. Much more clean than the table. I suppose you don’t want to get your clothes dirty for the birthday girl?” Handong purred, and the girl blushed even more. “Come on.”

She muttered something that might’ve been a yes. Handong simply smiled and guided her to the back.

“... And done. A hundred struanes, if you will.” Handong said, cleaning the sweat off her face as Siyeon finished retouching her makeup. The girl looked at her through the cracked mirror.

“Was that outrageous price an excuse, or...?”

“A girl’s gotta pay her bills.” She slapped the hull of the ship, and Siyeon rolled her eyes, throwing the neon purple card at Handong, who grabbed it mid-air. Elite, huh. Expected. Handong punched it in the credit machine and waited for the ping. “Here you go, just in time for your girlfriend’s party.”

“Yoohyeon isn’t -” Siyeon protested, and then huffed. “Maybe I should’ve gone to the Callisto mechs.”

“Prison orange doesn’t suit you.” Handong laughed, and Siyeon put out her tongue, marching for the ship and grabbing her credit card on the way.

Handong did not notice the contact information, scrawled in red lipstick in the mirror’s cracked surface, until the ship was a long way from Himalia.