In the port of Natarok, in the black of night, a growingly familiar sound could be heard from the end of Quay Number 24.

"You can't hold out on me, man!"

The poor chap was on his knees before Hans Allein. But, rules were rules, and his cargo wasn't cheap, neither was fuel, or the secret compartments he left on Jahrtausend Falke, his ship. He almost didn't pass the Customs Officers. UAS was breathing down his neck.

And no matter how miserable this idiot was, if he couldn't pay he couldn't pay.

"Jaromy, Jaromy, buddy, look. Come on, get up. You're a pathetic son of a whore, you know that? Get up, get up. Get up! I'm not gonna fuck with you on your knees." Hans paused, and hoped Jaromir didn't realize what he just said. The poor bastard didn't seemed to - he seemed very busy watering the dock.

"Come on, man, come on. I need it! I need this! I'll give you anything!"

"Then pay." said the smuggler. It was always the same - these slavs would do anything except pay the damn price Hans asked for. He knew a guy, Lundo, who'd even been propositioned for the goods. He'd had his legitimate cargo - some product he was ferrying ordered by the UAS government, and he'd had his... premium goods. Jaromir wasn't his only customer, true, but the bastard still had to pay just like the rest. This isn't a goddamn charity.

It was easy - just give. The damn. Gold. It didn't even have to be gold, it could be dyes. It could be Ivory. It could be cotton. Hell, it could even be horsemeat. All Hans wanted was to take the damn stuff back to Fort Dolch, trade up with his other buddy Kauenbacker, and turn around a nice and easy profit.

But the grovelling, come on.

"Look, buddy, it's easy. I gotta make a living. And I can't make a living just handing out-"

The fucker pulled a knife

The fucker pulled a *KNIFE***.

"Jaromy, Jaromy, I've known you for what, five years? Ten? Why the fuck do you have to go and pull a knife on me like that?!"

"YOU'RE CHEATING ME! I WAS YOUR FRIEND AND YOU'RE CHEATING ME!" screamed Jaromir, roaring across the dockyards. Hans looked around, panickedly. You never knew when the UAS Customs officers would pass you by. Hans had a few close shaves.

He was about to get a really close shave, though.

"Look Jaromy. Jaromy, we may have been friends, but you're just another custom-WOAH."

And with that, Jaromir lunged. Fortunately, the feeble man was easily sidestepped. He slashed his knife wildly through the air, and Hans tried to grab him! But Jaromir flinched, and into the drink he went. He started screaming.

"Uhh... Jaromy-"

"HELP! HELP! HELP!"

Shit. Hans Allein couldn't just leave him alive after that. Especially since he would rat out to the Customs.

Damn it. He was an okay customer.

Wait, no he wasn't. Hans thought as he forced Jaromir under the water.

In a flash, he was making his ship ready to steam on out. Customs Officers had to have heard that, and they'd be here any minute! Fucking hell, all that for 50 kilos of chocolate? Where the fuck am I supposed to offload that now?!

[M]: 955, and we're smuggling all sorts of shit into the UAS, not just Chocolate.