Just Reward

Since Port Martini had been built to natural human specs, it had the customary seedy waterfront district....or at least the illusion of such.....the Down Lounge franchise store had a prime address in this district, next to the "iconic Blue Bayou", on Fisherman's Wharf itself. The day cycle was blending into dusk, as two non-humans rose from the bar, to settle the tab, and make towards the boardwalk. One was a humanoid cyborg, the crash-test dummy type....the other was from the gene-vats, the giant cockroach model.....both built to the two-meter scale, to fit in a human oriented station.

They had been sucking on stimulant tubes all afternoon, and had purchased a liter bottle of Just Reward as they left the Lounge, carrying it in the traditional brown paper bag. They were headed towards the end of the pier, where the clever illusion was maintained of a greasy salt-water bay merging somehow beyond logic with the cold starry void around the station docking tubes, where spaceships tied up.

"Why do you suppose a Treaty frigate is coming in?" pondered the dummy.

"Beats me" says the roach. "But she sure is a pretty looking thing, haint she?"

"Yeh, I'd like one of those myself, you could sure kick some butt around here with something like that."

They leaned against the railing, and started to pass the paper bag back and forth, studying the purposeful lines of the trim warship with professional appreciation.

In the Blue Bayou, the manager was calling in extra bar girls for the late shift, in anticipation of a Fleet ship on station.....