Chapter 5: Welcome to Velbraxis-9 (Where Everything is for Sale, Including Your Dignity)

The SS Quantum Disaster exited hyper-speed, and the planet Velbraxis-9 came into view.

Max leaned forward in his seat, taking in the sight of his first real alien planet.

It was massive—a sprawling megacity covering the entire surface, glowing with neon signs, flying vehicles, and an absurd number of billboards advertising questionable products.

A holographic ad popped up in front of his ship:

"TIRED OF BORING FOOD? TRY XENOSNACKS! NOW WITH 50% LESS CHANCE OF CAUSING HALLUCINATIONS!"

Another displayed a smiling, six-eyed alien in a suit:

"NEED LEGAL HELP? CALL GALAXY LAW! NO CASE TOO ILLEGAL TO HANDLE!"

Max sighed. "This place already feels exhausting."

B.O.B. beeped. "Welcome to Velbraxis-9: the galaxy's largest trade hub. Here, you can find fuel, food, weapons, and possibly someone willing to explain why bananas are explosive."

Max snorted. "Yeah, that last one's a priority."

The ship's autopilot guided them toward the docking zone.

"Landing clearance granted. Please note: Velbraxis-9 operates on a simple economic principle—everything is for sale."

Max frowned. "Define everything."

"If you have enough credits, you can purchase food, weapons, information, government positions, body parts, and possibly an entire moon."

Max stared. "You're joking."

"Negative. In 4832, a businessman purchased the moon Xerath-5 and renamed it Jeff."

Max sighed. "I hate that I live in a universe where that's possible."

The ship touched down smoothly, and the landing ramp lowered with a hiss.

Time to see what kind of nonsense awaited him this time.

---

The Market of Infinite Chaos

The moment Max stepped into the Velbraxis-9 marketplace, he was immediately overwhelmed.

There were thousands of stalls, each selling something increasingly ridiculous. Aliens of every shape and size bustled around, shouting in languages he didn't understand.

Vendors waved holographic signs that read things like:

"GENUINE HUMAN TEA (PROBABLY NOT POISONED)"

"DISCOUNT SPACESHIP PARTS – MINIMAL EXPLOSION RISK"

"TIME MACHINES – ABSOLUTELY NOT A SCAM!"

A furry, insectoid creature waddled up to Max, holding out a glowing cube. "Human! You buy? This Cube of Infinite Knowledge will make you unstoppable!"

Max hesitated. "Does it actually work?"

The creature laughed nervously. "Uh… maybe! No refunds!"

Max sighed. "Pass."

Before the vendor could argue, B.O.B. chimed in. "Captain, I suggest prioritizing fuel, food, and information on your bounty status."

"Right. No distractions."

"Also, beware of pickpockets."

Max blinked. "Wait, what—?"

He looked down.

A tiny, tentacled creature was holding his wallet.

Max yelped. "HEY!"

The little thief screeched and scurried away.

Max bolted after it, dodging between stalls, knocking over a display of "Self-Aware Sunglasses" (which screamed in protest), and nearly running into a robot selling questionable meat products.

The tiny thief zigzagged through the crowd, slipping under an alien with six legs, before diving into an alleyway.

Max skidded to a stop.

The alley was dark, cluttered with scrap, and smelled like expired space tacos. The tiny creature was gone.

"Dammit."

B.O.B. beeped. "Congratulations, Captain. You have successfully lost your only source of money."

Max groaned. "Why does this always happen to me?"

"Statistically? Because you make poor decisions."

"...Bob, shut up."

---

A Shady Deal

Broke and mildly angry, Max wandered deeper into the market, looking for literally anything useful.

That's when he saw it—a rusty neon sign flickering above a narrow shop entrance:

"BAYLOR'S SHOP OF VERY LEGAL GOODS"

Max raised an eyebrow. "I already hate this."

B.O.B. beeped. "I calculate a 78% chance that anything inside is stolen."

"...Sounds like my kind of place."

Inside, the shop was cluttered with random gadgets, ancient-looking weapons, and glowing artifacts that probably shouldn't be touched.

Behind the counter stood a massive reptilian alien with cybernetic arms. His eyes glowed faintly, and he grinned when he saw Max.

"Ah, a new face! Welcome to Baylor's! What brings you here? Need a plasma rifle? A gravity grenade? A slightly used time machine?"

Max hesitated. "Uh… actually, I need fuel, supplies, and information."

Baylor scratched his chin. "Information, huh? That depends—what are you looking for?"

Max leaned in. "I need to know if anyone's still after me."

Baylor's grin widened. "Oho. You're one of those types. Let's see what I've got…"

He tapped a device on his wrist, and a holographic bounty board appeared above the counter.

Max's face was plastered across it.

WANTED: MAX MILLER

BOUNTY: 50,000 CREDITS

STATUS: ACTIVE – NEW CONTRACTORS ACCEPTED

Max paled. "That's… not good."

Baylor whistled. "Fifty thousand credits, huh? That's real money."

Max gulped. "So… you're not gonna try to turn me in, right?"

Baylor chuckled. "Nah, too much paperwork. But I can sell you something to help."

He reached under the counter and pulled out a small, round device with a glowing blue core.

"This here is a Scrambler Chip. Stick it on your ship, and it'll scramble your bounty signal—makes it harder for bounty hunters to track you."

Max's eyes lit up. "That's exactly what I need! How much?"

Baylor grinned. "Normally, I'd charge 5,000 credits. But since you're broke…"

Max sighed. "Alright, what's the catch?"

Baylor leaned in. "Ever heard of the Crimson Corsairs?"

Max blinked. "Should I be worried?"

B.O.B. beeped. "Affirmative."

Baylor chuckled. "They're pirates. Real nasty ones. They stole something from me. If you get it back, I'll give you the Scrambler Chip for free."

Max rubbed his temples. "So let me get this straight. You want me, a bounty magnet, to steal from actual pirates?"

Baylor grinned. "Exactly."

Max sighed. "I hate this universe."