They worked hard to build their own custom ship. It took them a long time, and a lot of funds, and a ton of very hard work. They made sure the ship had the strongest shields and safety features they could build, and, of course, all the amenities that they, and their family and friends, could ever want or need. The first ship in their small business. What business? Smuggling Dereggers to safety. -- Anon Guest
Raymond Barnet, Security Inspector for the Regimen of the Invisible Hand knew damn well that those Alliance sorts were up to something. They were always up to something. Constantly attempting to undermine the Invisible Hand of the Truly Free Market with their namby-pamby need for "equity". Which was another world for nanny-state hand-holding soft-hearted weakness.
Trader Gorx had a smirk that Barnet hated on sight. Like he was laughing at Barnet behind his back. He was otherwise casual, handing over all the paperwork and allowing every single box, bag, and container to be scanned, searched and tested for contraband.
All. Perfectly. Legal. Unfortunately for Barnet.
He would have loved to discover what this Galactic and others like him were smuggling, but he could not figure it out. The same number of porters went back to the ship as came out of it, everyone had tracker devices and no blips ever turned up in the security system.
It was driving him nuts.
Of course he told his supervisors. Of course he asked for superior scanners and permission to search the Alliance ship and others like it. But the top brass had other worries.
Pamphlets and pages were turning up in strange places. Publically, privately, it didn't matter. Some were blatantly stuck to walls directly under securicams meant to protect and serve the greater good.
Barnet had seen them around. He tried to ignore them, but they were everywhere. The list of rights and responsibilities of the Galactic Alliance. Either in text or in cartoon form, for those who could not read.
Some confiscated versions were little comic booklets akin to the tracts that were there for a proper education on how to serve the Invisible Hand. Which the Invisible Hand was fighting to its best ability.
The news was bombarded with information on how to tell the Alliance counterfeits from the Hand's better originals, and it should have worked. It could have worked - if the lowest of the working resources were permitted idle time to watch the news.
There was, inevitably, an uprising. Groups of working resources claimed debilitating sickness. Those who did work just filled their quota and refused to put in overtime. They started wanting things. Like... safe air. Protection from injury in the workplace. Public transit for FREE.
Worse of all, they wanted those of elevated and deserved income to pay taxes. As if that could help anyone or anything at all!
Barnet watched the world he knew crumble around him and... it wasn't that bad. Clean air and proper nutrition actually worked to eliminate or ameliorate his long-term conditions. Public medicine controlled the rest. Having time for himself improved his mood and general wellbeing.
He would never have known it at all if wasn't for that flakking smuggler.
Who he met on one of his holidays in the upgraded station. For coffee and doughnuts.
"I know you were smuggling something, you Alliance reprobate," the insult was delivered with some reluctant affection. "I'd thank you, but I have to know. What the flakk were you bringing into this place?"
"You never worked it out?" said Gorx. "The way you were scanning everything and counting heads? I was sure you worked it out. I figured you were a silent ally."
"I never figured it out. So what was it? Now that it's over and nothing can change... what were you smuggling?"
Gorx laughed. "You counted their heads, but you never looked at their faces. Powers. That has to be why... My friendo... I was smuggling peons."
"Wait. What?"
"The porters. Galactic-trained porters come in, Deregger fugitives go out. The Alliance plants smuggle in tracts, posters et cetera by various means, and distribute them as far and as wide as they can get. Y'all never searched your peons for paper products?"
"We... didn't need to. They don't get pockets."
"They did when we were done with them." Gorx grinned over his doughnut. "Easily concealed when your peons don't have the healthiest physiques."
Barnet raised his coffee in a respectful salute. "You magnificent pack of bastards."
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / jamesstar]
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