Trannies in Space

The ramshackle building might have once been a saloon, but it was long past calling itself anything but one of the few standing structures in town now. He stepped through the old fashioned swinging wooden doors.

"Dekker," The old man behind the bar called out. Despite the hour, he was open for business. Anything on Jansen's World was always open for business. "You got what I asked for?"

"As promised." With the last of his strength, the trader swung his satchel from his hip onto the bar. It made a sound of groaning wood and tinkling silver from within. Dekker withdrew a large metal box. "Half dozen power cells."

"Good. Actuators too?"

"Inside."

"Perfect, perfect." The old man eagerly opened the box and smiled, showing a handful of stubbornly clinging teeth. "Have yourself a drink to celebrate."

"I'll just take a room for the night." Dekker said. He was nearly dead on his feet from hauling his cargo through the cold woods.

"It's late. Take the lodging as a bonus for a well struck sale." The innkeeper said. He was counting out a few handful of silvers from a small hoard he kept under the bar. "Like someone for the night?"

"Damn right," Dekker told him.

"Man, woman, something in between?" The old man handed over a small cloth bag heavy with coins. He could afford to be generous with his employees. Nothing was cheaper than flesh on Jansen's World, and it was the sex trade that kept customers coming back.

"Whoever is closest." Dekker answered tiredly. He made his way upstairs after accepting his payment without another word. Pleasantries could wait until tomorrow.

*********

The room was spartan but clean: a bed, two chairs that were missing legs, and a small table. There was a single wooden window that was open, letting in the cold. He rapidly crossed the room and closed it. All of the furniture was scavenged and mismatched. Dekker didn't care. He made a beeline for the washroom.

The innkeeper had thought to leave some tepid water and a sliver of soap.