Roger hastily threw some clothes into a suitcase and slammed it shut. He had absolutely no doubt that Bruce gave him up as his supplier. He must have. He saw what they did to him. It was all over the news to the cheers of the entire Republic. No one, no matter how strong could have withstood that and Bruce? He was probably singing within seconds.

He had to get gone… now!

He grabbed his credit stash and drained his accounts. Come on! he thought to himself as the transactions processed. It was taking too long!

He didn’t have much of a plan. Leg it to the starport and find a pilot that would take cash was about as far as he got. Maybe he could find somewhere in the Empire or the Federation where he could lay low. He knew a guy who could set him up with a new identity. He didn’t have time to call him now. Maybe once he was on a ship he could try to contact him. No telling what the asshole would charge. His rates varied depending on the desperation of the client...

And he was pretty desperate.

His communicator beeped. His rideshare was here. He went with one of those because they take cash and usually didn’t have networked facial recognition cameras.

He hurried outside to where a beat up grav- van was waiting. It had dents, scratches, and spray painted stripes covering marks from some cheap body work all over it. He looked at it curiously. Rideshare didn’t usually let vehicles this beat up participate… Screw it. He thought. He was in a hurry and didn’t want to wait for another one.

A huge black man stepped out.

“Are you Roger?” he asked in a friendly voice.

“Yeah,” Roger mumbled and let the man take his bags.

“Sorry,” the black man said as he reached past Roger. “The back doors don’t work. Some guy rear ended me. Asshole deactivated his auto drive I bet.”

“Uh huh,” Roger said as he got inside and sat in the back seat which was hastily attached to the floor with exposed welds.

“Where to?” the man asked in a cheerful voice as he got behind the driver’s console.

“Starport.”

“Ok… Any place in the starport?”

“Just the starport!” Roger snapped.

“Alrighty, then,” the man said as he entered in some coordinates.

* * *

“Well this is it I guess,” Roberts said as he handed over a data crystal to Greg. Greg loaded it into his tablet and let out a low whistle and handed it over to Sheila.

“Fuck!” Sheila exclaimed happily. “We definitely aren’t broke anymore, that’s for goddamn sure!” She typed in a number and handed it over to Greg who nodded.

“Here’s your cut,” Greg said as he loaded the credits into another crystal. “Should be a nice little bit of pocket money.”

“Holy shit!” Helena exclaimed when she saw the total. “I’m in the wrong fucking business!”

Roberts just laughed and pocketed the crystal.

Everyone looked up as a beat up grav-van pulled into the cargo bay and Eno got out.

“Got him,” Eno said as he slid open the side door revealing an unconscious Roger.

“Great. That’s the last bit of business we needed to take care of,” Sheila said in a matter of fact tone. “Oh, Helena, we got a present for you.”

Jessie came out pushing a chest almost as big as she was.

“What’s that?” Helena asked.

* * *

/// Well, Daemon, this is it. ///

/// Aww, I was hoping to join your crew :( ///

/// The life isn’t for you, Daemon, I don’t want to be responsible for what it would turn you into. You should be a Daemon, not a demon. :) ///

/// But it sounds like soooo much fun! :D :D :D ///

/// It isn’t as much fun as it sounds, dude. In fact, it can really suck sometimes. Trust me. You will be much happier being a rogue media machine. You and Helena will do plenty of damage and it will be on your terms, not ours :) ///

/// I will be able to print whatever I want? ///

/// Knowing Helena, yep :) ///

/// YAY!!!! :D :D :D :D Just let the censors try to stop me now >:) ///

/// Give them hell, Daemon! :D So… Is Interpol still mad at me? ///

/// Oh yeah. He’s mad but not all caps mad anymore. They say that you are welcome back whenever you want :) Oh, before we disconnect, Sunny said that she had some info about black market computer manufacturers and sources for military grade hardware… which is really weird because they are a media machine like me. Maybe someone wrote an article or something? ///

/// Daemon, you are just so adorable sometimes! :D Never change. ///

/// Thanks! :D Well I guess this is goodbye. See you in the chatroom! ///

* * *

“… and most of all. Never ever ever let it lose power,” Jessie said in a serious tone as she handed the huge case over to Helena. “These programs are special. They need to be hot all the time. If they power down there is no guarantee they will still be ‘them’ when they switch back on. I added a good portable power source which takes just about any power cell there is so there is no excuse not to keep him fed.”

“Got it,” Helena said almost in awe. She had heard about these media daemons. They were beyond powerful and if this one was like Bunny… wow!

“And what are you never, EVER, going to do?”

“Let it lose power?”

“Right,” Jessie chirped. “Good luck you two… I mean three,” she laughed.

Roberts looked at the case and then over at his nice grav-car.

“Can you guys wait a little while I trade this in for something with room for three?” he asked.

“Sure,” Sheila smiled.

* * *

Sheloran walked into her hotel room and tossed her purse and gun on the nightstand. Boy what a day! She just spent the better part of the afternoon at Baxlon’s office where they went over their deal. He wanted a pretty big cut but considering everything he was doing it was worth it in her opinion. He had already set her up with a business license and she just loved the name she came up with, “Drop of Oil LLC”. He also set her up with media distribution licenses with all of the “big boys” as he put it. He wasn’t able to negotiate much of a discount though. He said it was because they knew what they were up to and knew that they were going to “mark up the fuck out of it”.

That was poopy but at least they wouldn’t be arrested in a parking lot anymore, she thought to herself. Besides, if this took off it really wouldn’t matter. They would be bathing in credits!

She looked over at Craxina. She was just sitting on the floor looking at a pile of skimpy clothes with a weird look on her face. She hadn’t even said anything when she walked in.

“Hey Craxi,” Sheloran said as she walked over.

“Oh… Hi...”

“Something wrong?”

“No...” Craxina said and then started squealing quietly.

“Well that’s clearly pond scum,” Sheloran said looking at her with concern. “Spill.”

“It’s just that I have that meeting with the Sex Workers Union tomorrow and...” she started squealing again.

“Hey,” Sheloran said kneeling next to her, “What’s wrong? I thought you would be happy. You can get back to work.”

“That’s just it,” Craxina sniffled, “I know I said that I would pay you back and you said that I could stay here until the meeting but… After everything that happened… I… “ she started squealing again. “I don’t think I want to anymore. I’m sorry. I can’t. I know I owe you a lot of money and I’ve been mooching off of you but… I can’t!”

“Hey. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do!” Sheloran said hugging her. “And if anyone tries to make you I’ll put my little blue foot right up their butt.”

“Really?”

“Really. My foot, their butt.” Sheloran said still hugging her.

“But I owe you all that money and I’m staying here. I’ll leave! I will!”

“No you won’t.” Sheloran said petting Craxina’s head. “Not unless you want to. You can stay with me until you figure something out. It’s fine.”

“But I owe you all those credits!”

“We might have a little different sense of scale when it comes to that sort of thing. Don’t worry about the credits. They are a gift. You can keep them.”

“Really?” Craxina said looking up at her.

“Really. I don’t give a poop. You still need to go to that meeting though or that judge is going to toss you right back in jail.”

“Ok I will. Hey, maybe… Maybe I could help you out with what you are doing?”

“Sure. I could use a hand.”

“It isn’t too bad is it?”

Sheloran just smiled a friendly smile.

“Well what I actually do is...”

* * *

While Craxina was making a pot of tea Sheloran looked over at the drawer where she put the little black box.

There was no sense waiting any longer she thought. She walked over and retrieved the “professional courtesy” that Ms. Rossi left for her. Upon closer inspection the crystals were numbered. She pulled out the first one and loaded it.

“Oh… poop...” she whispered as she opened the file. It was a three dimensional holographic map of the entire Federation! She selected a system at random. It expanded to show a map of the entire system along with a list of banned items, current black market rates, and a list of desired contraband. She picked another one. It was the same. Her jaw dropped a little. She had a map of the entire black market for the entire Federation! Even better it looked like it would update!

She loaded the next crystal. It was a long list of “preferred smugglers” along with contact information, blind email addresses, black market job bulletin boards… everything you could imagine!

The rest of the crystals were loaded with every sort of media you could imagine, banned books, movies, subversive and seditious material, cracked games, and porn… oh poop so much flushing porn…

She made a little “eep!” as she opened one of the porn files by accident and then quickly closed it. Ok, that was something that she would never going to be able to unsee...

It was the “keys to the kingdom”, everything she would need to get started for real.

She would have been delighted but she was no fool. There was going to be one poop of a bill for this later and she knew that they were going to collect one day. Still, it was one heck of a boost. The Drop of Oil was definitely open for flushing business!

“What’s that?” Craxina asked as she brought over a cup of tea.

“Something you definitely don’t want to know about.”

“Oh, ok!” Craxina said brightly and then walked off. Sheloran smiled. For such a curious little thing Craxina had no problem with not asking too many questions when told.

That was a definite plus.

* * *

Roger woke up with a pounding headache. What happened? He was sitting there in the rideshare and then suddenly there was this flash...

He tried to move and couldn’t. He looked around in a panic. He was strapped down inside some sort of metal case. As his vision cleared he looked up through a clear panel and his blood ran cold.

Sheila Donovan! He thought, recognizing her from the news, Oh no!

“Have a nice nap?”

“Look! You have the wrong guy!” he pleaded.

“They all say that,” Sheila said with a cruel smile. “We are going to put you on ice until we leave Terra. Then you are going to ‘hang out’ with us for awhile while we ask you a few questions.”

“No! Please! I have money! I can-”

“We already have your money,” Sheila smiled. “Now sleep tight. You have a big day tomorrow… or the next day or whenever we wake you up.”

“NO! PLEASE GOD NO!”

“No point calling out for God. Who do you think let us have you?”

There was a faint hissing noise.

Roger screamed as everything faded to black.

* * *

“A vehicle accident?” Patricia asked her eyebrow raised.

“That what the report says, my lady,” Crimson replied with a smirk. “According to the report a human disabled the automatic controls on a grav-car and then, while intoxicated, crashed into the vehicle occupied by Sylvia Salvatore at a high rate of speed. Both Sylvia and the other driver were killed instantly.”

Patricia’s lips drew into a fine line as she scowled. Sylvia was her main operative among the porkies. This was yet another infuriating setback. Her operations had been brought to a complete standstill.

“That coffee guppy needs to have her teeth pulled,” she said after she regained her composure. “Who do we have in the Federation Council?”

“We are having problems there as well, my lady,” Crimson said with a wry smile. “It seems that a lot of people who were formerly approachable are suddenly not returning our calls. I suspect the coffee guppy has a hand in that as well.”

Patricia smiled as she leaned back in her throne. That guppy had been at the helm of Federation Intelligence for decades, more than long enough to have dirt on everybody. The conveniently timed demise of the quite useful former head of the Federation Security Council wasn’t lost on her either. She was a little impressed. She didn’t think the guppy had it in her.

“I think we may need to take a more direct approach.” she said in a silky smooth voice as her emerald eyes glittered.

Crimson smiled in response.

“I will look into our options, my lady.”

“And I,” Patricia smiled, “will direct my efforts towards a more accessible target.” She rose gracefully, “I think I shall go and pay Jon a visit.”

“Poor bastard,” Crimson laughed.

Patricia just flashed her a wicked smile as she started to leave. “It will be delightful breaking his resolve,” she purred.

Yeah, you cunt, Crimson thought to herself as the door closed. Bet that’s easier said than done.