Persian Rug Smugglers

            If you stay in the  capital long enough, you either get with a gang or you die, because these gangs don’t mess around. Territory disputes, honor killings, revenge... there’s enough bad blood between just the Snipers and the Red Orchestra to fill a morgue. Luckily, the Cairo gang wiped out its main competitors, the Second Sons, several years ago and have run of the East-end mostly to themselves. They trade mostly in items small enough to fit in a rolled up Persian rug.

Blue’s generally a free agent and only signs for short stretches, but she’s been with the Cairo gang for almost a year as their mid-level arms dealer. They pay okay and these bad news boys figured out not to mess with her a bit quicker than most. She likes the City and how sometimes seems like the whole thing’s been done in scratchy inkwash, with a dash of red here and there.

The city looks its absolute best for the hour between sundown and nautical dusk, when the sky is dark blue watercolor tattooed by the silhouettes of spindly buildings, cranes and construction scaffolding.

Unfortunately, this deal is going down in the middle of the day, and the light from the red giant sun is unbearable; everything is ruby-sultry and stinks like a sailor. Nobody does anything in the middle of the day in Jack City, so the greasy speakeasy they’re camped in is totally empty except for the cairo members who are on this deal. Blue is manning the back door, flipping the safety on her Marky Six on and off to the beat of her tongue clicking on the back of her throat. The arms dealer wishes the bar was manned­­— she could use a mouthful of dirty grus like ten minutes ago.

Luckily, part of today’s deal is moonshine. Blue isn’t too sure what the other part is— probably med supplies, because if it were guns she’d know about it, and the Cairo doesn’t trade in whores. Not since Cueball’s been boss.

Blue’s been running more and more deals, even ones that don’t have to do with weapons. The higher ups must like her style. She scares everyone.

Today they’re trading with the Zeester, a pirate ship she’s actually heard of.  Supposedly the captain, a psycho by the name of Sal Bridges, once smoked an entire battalion of RUST cruisers. She also heard that the Zeester once pinched blind but she doesn’t believe that.