Possible addition to my latest SF novel Silence's Kiss by J. L. Young

The next ada, Tholml and Emmi departed Ararandaari and ported to a moonmoon devoid of atmosphere. A vast array of ships. Most seemed intact while some clearly had been cannibalized for parts. As they approached, Emmi took to the suit room and readied herself for deplaning. It wasn’t long until Tholml landed the ship and met her there.

“Looks like a boneyard,” Emmi breathed while looking out the side port as Tholml maneuvered the ship close to the moonmoon.

“Do you remember what we discussed? These beings can be a duplicitous lot.” Tholml asked.

“We got them on Earth, too. We call them used car dealers.”

“What’s a car?”

“Wheeled ground conveyance.”

“Wheels, strange. Must take a fortune to maintain the paths,” Tholml said as he rested the ship on its omnetic cushion.

“Indeed.”

They stepped down from the ship and moved toward a small structure built into a mountain. The outer door had a sign written in Spiral Common, ‘Welcome.’ They stepped into the airlock and it cycled. The inner doors unlocked and parted. A bell dinged.

A being stepped from a connecting room with a pastry in its mouth. “Greetings,” they mumbled through the dry food. “The name’s Gwyta.” She looked for her customers’ names.

Despite being on some remote satellite of a satellite, the office looked like it would belong on some used car lot in any downtown on Earth. Emmi didn’t feel comfortable taking her helmet off. “Hello. I’m Emmi.”

“Tholml.” The Ichaali added.

“I’m looking for the Inilis you have on the network.”

“Inilis? We got that. First ship?” the saleswoman asked in a friendly manner.

“Yes, and no.”

The saleswoman disregarded the request. “What piqued your interest in that ship?”

“It’s nimble, well-armed, armored, and port capable.”

“All of our ships have had their weapons removed. Now, if the New Consortium ever lifts the ban, I’d be the first one to sell you a ship so equipped. You have to go through a licensed station to install them.” She leaned over toward Emmi and Tholml. Her gaze fell as though she were in thought. “I know what you want!”

After the saleswoman donned her suit, she said, “Right this way.”

The woman unplugged a rover. Emmi looked at Tholml, tapped on one of the six wheels, and chuckled before climbing into the vehicle. Gwyta settled into a seat and tapped the panel, closing the hatch. The well-worn trails divided tracts filled with inventory. A few minutes passed, they arrived at a machine with the appearance of a school bus.

Emmi glanced at her wrist computer. “This isn’t the Inilis.”

“The Inilis, it’s a war relic, worn and… no, I know what you want.”

“So do I, and it’s not here. Take us back to his ship.”

“I don’t feel the Inilis is suited for….”

Emmi’s voice took a calm, emphatic tone. “Take us back and you only lose a customer and it wouldn’t affect your business. If you don’t, I’m sure sector authorities would have something to say about keeping sentients against their will. How would that affect your business?”

Gwyta glanced at Tholml. His expression punctuated Emmi’s assertion.

Emmi and Tholml boarded their ship, leaving the saleswoman standing by the rover. They left the moonmoon and ported. They exited the wormhole. The sensors lit up and presented thousands of ships in a cuboid configuration.

A hail beckoned. Tholml opened the channel. A flamboyant voice flooded the cabin. “Welcome to Stewgar’s Star Hopper Emporium, where you get the best deal. We guarantee it. I’m Ashandrin Halafaph. How can I assist you?”

“Ashandrin, we’re here to see the Getatay Stonjebraer.”

Emmi chuckled as she remembered the translation of the ship’s designation, ‘Pocket Chicken.’

“Yes, Yes, the Getatay Stonjebraer. Nice choice. I’ll pull it from the lot and have it transferred to the presentation lounge. You can rest your ship on pad 42. I will be at the airlock to escort you there.”

According to Emmi’s eyes up display, a Sciurid met them as promised. As they moved along the corridor, the lights moved with them as though the Sciurid carried with it a candle. A power-saving measure.

The Sciurid reached a hatch at the end of the corridor. Emmi thought to herself, ‘A Sciurid looks like a large groundhog. He’s so cute!’ Ashandrin removed what appeared like a stick of butter from his vest and greased a set of rails before manually opening the heavy hatch.

Inside, three ships waited to be inspected. A table and a set of comfortable chairs awaited them. “I selected two other ships of a similar type to your selection. Please inspect them for as long as you desire. If you have questions, feel free to ask.”

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