"FWLS41" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

the first time I saw it... the guns, the computers, the-- wait.
No, it's not worth the risk. Maybe. No. Argh.

"I'll think it over," I said. Ookie nodded, and cut the
channel.

*

Disgruntled Postal Workers were a new addition to the daily
mayhem that is the universe. Some new corporation, somewhere on
the edges of settled space, delivering important goods to and
fro. But they weren't like the others.

Traders give up rather than lose their lives. They panic.
They make bad decisions, and freeze up. They're EASY to jack.
But these guys... they're loons. They make suicide runs. They
keep a finger on the trigger. They chase you down and kill you,
even after you run with your tail between your legs. And thanks
to the many lawyers they hire, they get away with it.

I tangled with one awhile back, when I didn't know better.
Figured it'd be an easy jack, since the ship didn't look armed.
I was wrong. First shot knocked out my shields, with weapons
technology far beyond what you can get at the stalls in Port
Hades. Then he fired... MISSILES. Missiles, of all things!
Real rocket-propelled explosive weaponry. First clipped my right
engine. I managed to swerve and flee the scene, taking major
damage to my rear after he chased me, shooting and shooting and
shooting and shooting...

I don't know why he left me. Maybe he was on a tight
schedule, or maybe he got bored. I did some checking up on that
mailman back at the Port, while waiting for my ship to be
fixed... he was a top flight officer in the D.P.W. They
reprimanded him for not finishing me off.

Insane. Only word for it.

Now it makes sense, my reasoning for wanting to avoid any
more of those buggers. But if the equipment he held could by me
my prize ship...

*

"I need bigger guns," I told the weapons dealer.

He looked at me over his book (always a book about war).
"Lowbeam. Figured it was you. Why do you need bigger guns? You
have the second best models I own--"