Chapter 400: We Ordered the Entire Delivery

The pirates were stealing food from people who already lived on a moving animal, which struck me as picking a fight with a customer base that could bring its entire street to your house.

I watched the two crewmen stack ration crates beside the loading door. The market host had shown us the market’s stamped corner marks when he packed our breakfast, and these matched closely enough that Lukas photographed them before we did anything ambitious.

The station attendant checked the marks in Lukas’s photographs and confirmed the crates were stolen from the market. I felt wonderfully justified for somebody who’d wanted to climb aboard before asking.

*Would it look bad if I checked whether they’d stolen the good sausage first?*

[System: One-time recovery job, mate. Secure the stolen rations, put the loading crew out of business and get the goods into the rightful owners’ custody. Twenty-five thousand EXP and forty-five IP, including the fighting. Try not to eat the evidence.]

*I have not touched anything yet, and you are already explaining why I should not be trusted near the evidence.*

[System: You’re staring at a stolen food delivery like it’s got your name on the lid, mate. Rescue it before you start asking where the forks are.]

Lukas looked along the dock toward the office. The marina guard had checked our token but couldn’t see this loading door from his station, and the supply crew clearly liked it that way.

One man worked a powered handcart while the other checked crate numbers against a sheet. A third crewman remained inside the hold, shouting whenever they blocked his path with another box.

The door stood open, and the hoist operator kept showing us exactly where the controls were. I watched him stack another crate in the wrong place and began to understand why these blokes stole food instead of holding down jobs.

Lukas took the photographs and reply to the guard while I waited by Wet Regret. I had strict instructions not to start. Technically, letting the crew argue themselves angry felt like helping, so I enjoyed it until Lukas came back.

When the guard came back with Lukas, the man holding the sheet immediately tried to close the loading door.

I reached it first, humming as the blade at his belt came within easy reach.

A braced section of my body stopped the sliding panel before it met the frame. The man inside pulled harder, discovered that the gap wasn’t shrinking, and looked down at the red material between him and a successful escape.

*"Keep pulling,"* I told him. *"Maybe the fourth try will convince me this is a private conversation."*

He drew a short blade. I withdrew from its path, slipped through the wider gap below his arm, and struck his knee before he could turn.

His knee hit the floor, but he kept the knife. I pinned his wrist and peeled the weapon out with a tendril, annoyed that he was making me work this hard to return his boss’s groceries.

Outside, Lukas pulled the emergency stop on the handcart before its operator could drive into the guard. The cart stopped, the stacked boxes stayed strapped down, and the operator received a very practical explanation of why Lukas had so many useful limbs.

The man with the sheet ran toward the bow. The guard blocked the dock exit while I followed along the deck, humming quietly enough that he had to look back to identify the sound.

I slowed the tune when his fingers fumbled on the handle, which was petty and deeply satisfying.

[System: You’ve made the bastard forget how doors work, mate. Imagine what you could do if you learned a second song.]

I hooked his ankle and dragged him back to the other two. He tried hanging onto a deck ring, lost his grip, and arrived complaining about his shoulder. I told him the food seemed to be coping better.

The guard called the harbor watch while Lukas checked the hold with him. They found no extra crew, but there were more marked ration boxes than we’d seen from outside.

I suggested cramming the crates onto Wet Regret. Lukas looked from the stack to our little hull, then asked whether I’d recently gained gills for the luggage. We used the powered hoist and the dock instead.

The market cooperative sent a local carrier to collect the goods. Its driver checked the crate numbers against the attendant’s report, signed the recovery sheet, and secured the load before leaving.

My reward arrived when that transfer was complete. I reached fifty-three thousand five hundred EXP out of three hundred thousand and one thousand one hundred forty IP.

[System: Twenty-five thousand EXP for rescuing dinner without eating it, mate. I knew you’d eventually discover self-control if we paid enough.]

*Tell them I worked through lunch. If gratitude comes in a takeaway box, I accept payment in that form.*

The watch took the prisoners and records. When I asked about keeping the boat, the guard showed me its overdue charter papers. Some unlucky local owned it, which spoiled an excellent five seconds of imagining a bigger kitchen.

The crew’s loose cash and unclaimed gear were a different matter. After recording it, the officer released four thousand two hundred credits, spare fuel and the personal locker to us. I asked him to repeat the amount while Lukas checked it.

[System: Stop looking disappointed, mate. You can’t adopt every boat you find with criminals in it.]

*Not with that attitude, I can’t. At least let me ask about the next one before you start complaining.*

Our trip money reached four thousand four hundred thirty. Lukas secured the fuel and boxed the tools while I investigated the locker, looking for something its former owners would particularly miss.

Inside sat a locked cylinder with a fish-jaw crest and numbered dial. Old Mate suggested biting it. I asked whether he planned to pay for the teeth, and he suddenly became interested in reading the numbers.

Lukas carried it to the cabin table so we could photograph the markings. Beside us, the vessel’s radio receiver lit up with an incoming call.

The watch officer glanced at its registered call sign and told us to leave the connection open while he recorded it from the dock.

Then a calm voice filled the cabin, asking why Captain Gullet’s delivery had stopped answering its progress checks.