Foreign Trade

It wasn't as if he had meant to rob them...

OK, he was totally robbing them...of basically everything ...but he hadn't joined the crew intending to do it.

But who the heck leaves their ship with the new guy while they all went down in the shuttle?

It was basically his duty to rob them. It was like...evolutionary or something.

Frankly, they were lucky he was leaving with their ship. The universe was a dangerous place. The next guy might have stabbed them all in their sleep.

Sure, they'd get a little hungry with three extra people at the science outpost, but they could totally make it three months.

Probably.

He set course for a dubious junker who'd pay cash and wasn't too fussy about paperwork.

Kicking his feet up on the console, he drifted off to dream about money...lovely money.

- - -

He was half-awakened by a blurp from the computer.

Then became instantly wide awake when he noticed a second dot near his on the display and him still an hour out from the jump boundary. The hailing signal blurped again at him.

Busted.

He slicked back his hair and stabbed the connection button in resignation.

"Hail Human envoy! We are travelers from the..."

He lost track of what the thing was saying in sheer disgusted fascination at how ugly it was. Calling it a mole rat humping a jaundiced octopus would have been a compliment.

"...we have learned your language..."

He coughed loudly, "Uh...neat! I've really got to run, you know...uh...human stuff."

The alien looked at him blankly, it's toothy maw hanging open, in an apparently universal symbol of WTF. He started to reach for the button when it started up again, "We wish to trade with your esteemed..."

Finger still hovering, he eyed the map. Damn, 40 minutes out.

It jabbered on, "...scientific discoveries and recordings of our most significant cultural..."

"Wait, what? You want to trade data?"

"Yes, we carry with us the combined knowledge of our entire species in the hopes of..."

"What do you want for it?"

"Your own race's wisdom, so that we may..."

He thought fast, "What luck! I just so happen to be carrying all of my people's...data...in the hopes of...trading it with...", he wrinkled his nose, "...peoples."

It jiggled disconcertingly, "Yes, yes, this is very fortuitous. Let us transmit our data to you, so we may..."

He started beaming them the entire contents of his ship's computer, comprised primarily of hyper-porn (don't ask), pirated music, a bunch of old video games no one had been able to get working the entire trip out, and, inexplicably, a complete 113-year library of Lifetime movies.

Both their transmissions tailed off just as he reached jump distance.

The alien waggled its tentacles in either a gesture of solemn gratitude or insulted indignation.

He didn't really care which. "Well...I guess I'm off. Enjoy the...ah...cultural...stuff!", and punched the jump button.