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"Phil, I swear if you get us killed I'm going to haunt you in the afterlife forever."
Given that this was a threat Techno made near weekly, his best friend barely reacted, throwing him a grin as he spun their spin once more in a dizzying formation, and then shot back out across the belt. Humans. Heavens knew how they'd survived as a species so long.
He'd been promised that today was just a retrieval - make the deal, get the goods, fly them out to someone who'd paid twice their actual value but was either too dumb or too desperate to look for another source. In and out, no trouble, no running for their lives, no cops.
At least the last point still held true. Stellaris patrols didn't come this way often, so news of a ship spread fast. With all the things going wrong today, the last thing Techno needed was to be arrested.
sometime previously:
"Phil stop laughing at me, I know I look ridiculous." Techno muttered, keeping his head down as they strode through the crowded streets of the night market, "What sort of criminal wears a uniform? If I wanted to that, I would've just joined Stellaris."
"I'm not laughing!" Phil protested, one hand over his mouth to hide the wide grin, "You wouldn't last a day there, anyway - you'd make a joke about murder and suddenly the next week would be taken up with meetings about 'appropriate work behaviour' and 'mandated therapy sessions'. Honestly couldn't say anything back there."
"And is this from personal experience?" Techno asked dryly, trying to adjust the strap of the armour. It was roughly his size, since he'd had enough forethought to down a guard about his height, but it was clearly not made to fit a Piglin frame, and his muscles bulged uncomfortably. "I'll forever be shocked you lasted as long as you did, let alone that they promoted you."
"Repeatedly! I've never worked out whether I had a secret friend in the upper circles, or whether someone was really bored and that was the most amusing thing they could think of. They even let me get to a reasonable age to retire from the fleet, for a human at least."
"I bet they'd kick themselves if they knew this would be the consequence."
Phil grinned, straightening his own suit, "Oh they'd lose their minds. Surely they didn't think that I'd actually retire - I've got another ooh, forty years to live? I intend to spend the majority of that busy, being bored fucking sucks."
"I'd actually quite like to experience this 'boredom' at some point," Techno said dryly, "I got a single day of peace before you dragged me back off into your nonsense. Are we almost there? I can feel people staring at me."
"Excuse you, my nonsense is delightful, and if you had your way you would've spent the rest of your on a potato farm somewhere in the outer fields. We're a minute or so out, so you might want to take a step back. You're meant to be my bodyguard, not my friend, remember mate?"
"What part of 'I wish you'd let me retire peacefully' gave you the impression I wouldn't enjoy spending the rest of my life on a potato farm," Techno pointed out, falling back anyway. He flicked his translator on, the vibration rattling through his chest as it turned on. He and Phil spoke in one of the old human languages, Ingles, for the most part, since it was rare to find another speaker, but they liked playing to some of the crueler stereotypes around Piglins' when it came to things like this.
Nothing like letting someone underestimate you and then throwing them bodily into a wall for the soul, and Techno was happy to let people assume he was some sort of dumb brute who couldn't even speak Common just to see the look in their eyes as they realised their mistake.
The guards at the door barely looked twice as Phil flashed his invitation, gazes passing straight over Techno's stolen mercenary uniform. He had outfits for most of their capers, but they rarely had reason to venture to this system, and apparently these guys were the most popular agency on the planet. Maybe it was the uniform.
The auction itself was nothing fancy - your standard black market ring, a lot of velvet and gold and people milling around with too much money and nothing better to do than buy useless vases and hope something cool came up. Phil had set up a private meeting beforehand with one of the sellers, with one of his hundreds of fake identities, and so they wouldn't even have to stay for the bidding. They could get in, offer the guy a reasonable sum, and then either get out before the credit chip bounced or Techno could throw him out a window. Win win for everyone. Well, for them. Everyone else didn't count.
Techno fell easily into his role, dogging Phil's footsteps and keeping alert, eyes tracking the multitudes of other guests, guards and staff who circled the room. It took only a few words to one of the hosts for them to be swept back behind the scenes, following a thickly carpeted hallway up into a large office space.
The woman sat behind the desk was smiling, as they entered, but the expression set Techno's spine prickling. Phil didn't seem to register it at all, leaping forward and straight into the spiel they'd prepared, the light patter that would precursor the negotiations.
He wanted to say something, but there was nowhere to pull Phil aside, no chance for a quiet word and the recommendation they get the heck out of there.
"I see you went with local protection," the seller smiled, tilting her head at Techno, "They do provide such… reliable services."
Phil tossed a glance over at Techno, as if he'd forgotten the Piglin was there at all, "Oh are they? I usually bring my own escort but a nasty little affair over in Tulupac took my last men. Do they offer long term services, if you're so familiar? I-"
"Perhaps should have done your research a little better. A valiant effort, certainly, but I would never hire one of… those things for my company. We don't even produce uniforms that fit! I do appreciate the view, but-"
Techno shifted, readying himself to attack, eyes flashing wild, but Phil lifted a hand, held him back. The other guards showed no sign of attacking, still at ease at their posts - smart in what Techno realised were identical uniforms to his own. How could Phil have missed this? A rich eccentric seller was one thing, a rich eccentric owner of the largest merc company on a planet was something else entirely.
"Please, do keep your guard dog heeled. Such brutish creatures… can it even understand our conversation? Or does the translator extend only to basic commands?"
Oh Techno was going to enjoy killing her. Nonetheless, he returned to rest as Phil retook his own seat, slow and calculating.
"Is this gonna be a problem, mate? I'd apologise for the deception but I'm not really sorry. Can't be too secretive round here."
"If you're willing to pay your dues, I have no issue with you remaining alive and well on your exit, nor with granting you permission to leave the docks un-accosted. I do prefer my clients to be honest on their preference for anonymity, but I understand this is our first meeting. Your credit chip, please."
Techno's jaw tightened, just a tick, as Phil handed the chip over with a slightly sheepish air, a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. He knew damn well that credit chip was faulty, and from the gleam in the seller's eyes, she knew it too.
Behind him, the guards readied to move.
Phil still wouldn't give him the signal to move. Why did he ever agree to this in the first place? It wasn't too late for the potato fields, he could still-
The credit chip exploded. A relatively small explosion, which was great for Techno who liked not being exploded, and also for the room in general who probably shared his beliefs. Not so great for the seller, who shrieked and stumbled backwards, covering her eyes, but hey, he wasn't shedding tears over a bigot.
To his utmost regret, Techno didn't have a chance to throw anyone out a window, instead whacking the closest guards to him with a fancy statue perched on a mantelpiece, while Phil dove for the desk drawer and pulled out what looked like a box, but was apparently their target from his delighted crow - who kept rare and valuable items in unlocked desk drawers anyway? She sort of deserved to be robbed just for that.
From there, everything got a little fuzzy, the part of Techno that dealt best with violence taking over as he hustled Phil down the corridor and out into the auction room once more, which was being swarmed by guards. The alarm that this rose from the assembled guests worked in their favour, providing cover for Techno to drag his idiot human away from all the other shinies on display because-
"Phil we do not have time to go shoppin' right now!"
-and instead gently encourage him via some minor violence and threats to get his ass back down to the dock and to their nice, fast, and most importantly: armed ship.
"Phil, why didn't you tell me we had a bomb?" Techno demanded, taking the copilot seat as Phil hit the engines, "That would've been helpful!"
"I didn't think it was worth mentioning! A new thing I'm trying out - it might not have even worked!"
"Or you might've blown us both up instead!"
"What happened to 'Phil stop trying to steal that vase, we're about to be swarmed and horribly murdered'?" Phil snarked, the attempt at deflection terrible but unfortunately also effective.
Techno just groaned, and gripped the handles as the human nudged their ship out of the dock and rattling out into the air. He'd never quite understood the physics of how this worked, other than 'most ships do a lot more safety checks than this', but there was a reason Phil was sat in the pilot's chair. Techno brought many things to the table but a license wasn't one of them.
He could, however, read the dash - well enough that he caught the blips following them only seconds after Phil did, taking a sharp swerve to avoid the rain of fire coming down on them.
He groaned louder, "Phil, I swear if you get us killed I'm going to haunt you in the afterlife forever."
"I've never gotten you killed before! Trust me mate, this is gonna be fine!"
Coming from someone who called everything from 'terrible customer service' to 'we're being held hostage by carnivores unscrupulous of the species they eat' fine, Techno didn't really believe that. They'd need to replace the handles again at this rate - he was gonna crush straight through their metal cores if he wasn't careful.
"I'm doing the research next time," Techno said, as Phil continued his space aerobics and picking off some of the ships on their tail, "And I'm making the call when I can start throwing people out the window."
They both knew the last part was a lie - Techno enjoyed his role in their game a little too much - but he was going to take a more active hand in planning for the next few months. Phil had a tendency to skim read when he thought he could get away with it.
"Sure thing mate," the human said distractedly, "You wanna take control of the guns for a sec? We're entering a meotrite belt and I'd rather not get shot through with a boulder-"
Techno grinned, reaching forward for the controls for the ship weaponry, refamililisring himself with how everything clicked.
"Eh, you know me Phil. I love shooting people. Now please do your job and focus, if we die-"
"- you're gonna kill me, heard and received mate. More shooting less talking please."
Techno obliged, the main reason he'd followed Phil to start with. Potato farms didn't have many people to shoot.