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“Whose car is this?” he asks, staring at my conveyance.
“Mine of course.”
“But this is a Druxorcorp Eclipse Black Moon GTE special.”
“Yeah, that’s what it said in the holo brochure. I just got it because it had the fastest delivery date of all the others.”
“You bought a Druxorcorp Eclipse Black Moon GTE special just because it was convenient?”
“I told you, I’m rich.” I wink at him and motion again for him to climb in. “Now hurry up. these aren’t the kind of people you keep waiting.”
He gets inside and I don’t even wait for him to close the door before I send the hover car shooting upward. Yarvok cries out and grabs the side of the car, though the inertial dampening field keeps us firmly in place.
“Relax, Yarvok, it’ll all be fine.”
“Do you have a license?”
“Somewhere, on some planet, I’m sure I have the proper credentials,” I say with a shrug. Just to fuck with him I fly at a much higher velocity than is actually necessary. The office rears up ahead of us and I vector for the flat expanse beside it that acts as a parking lot.
“Deploy, deploy,” I say, trying to sound like a drill sergeant as I throw my door open and lead the charge toward the building. Laughing, Yarvok rushes to catch up with me.
We enter the building and get in line. I check the time and grimace.
“I should have made the meeting for a half an hour later, but I wanted to get them nailed down before they found something else to do.”
Yarvok cocked a brow ridge at me.
“Who are these people again?”
“Well, one of them is an investor friend of mine. Dracks Mylar.”
He gasps.
“The same Drax Mylar who owns Mylar Racing?”
“The same. He owns the fastest ships in the galaxy, my friend Dracks.” I laugh to myself. “He’s kind of larger than life at times but his heart is in the right place.”
“Mylar is a Kiphian. Is your other helper also Kiphian?”
“No, he’s not as a matter of fact. The problem with going up against a Fratvoyan in this competition is that they know more about booze than any other sapient species. Possibly every other sapient species combined.”
“Then what hope do we have?”
I laugh at his worried expression.
“Don’t worry, big guy. We’re going to get our own Fratvoyan to Help. Cam Neely is a galactically licensed libation taster. He can identify over nine thousand drinks just by tasting them. With him on our side, we surely can’t lose.”
“So, when will your friends arrive, Oliva?”
I give him a big smile.
“Two weeks maximum. They should arrive in more than enough time to give us a leg up on our competition.”
“So you’re planning to stay for a awhile?”
I consider my answer carefully. Then I nod.
“Yes, I’m going to be sticking around for a while. At least until you get your brewery going and we beat his sorry ass.”
