Anything can be a weapon – Bottle Cap

Gravra was sitting behind the counter pondering how slow business has been lately when a diminutive Greebek entered through the front door. It slowly walked up to the counter, obviously scared of the large being peering menacingly as he approached, and meekly asked “I..I..I need a weapon to kill a Vastin.”

“A Vastin eh, what is the acceptable collateral damage?”

“Oh, there can not be any.”

“Can you afford a battle fleet to take out one of their ships?”


“Then there is no way I know of to kill one, not without making a big mess.”

“I need help, this Vastin is a pirate and is terrorizing my customers and ruining my business.”

“Call the Federation for help.”

“I have, but they will not send a fleet out to my sector for a single Vastin, since my depot is the only thing around other than automated mining systems. The transport ships all have insurance that covers piracy so I am the only one affected”

“I tell you what, I will put you in touch with someone who can recommend a human assassin guild and see if they can help you.”

After the Greebek thanks him and leaves, Gravra thinks to himself “This is why business is slow, you have gotten soft. Just sell him a gun, he shoots the Vastin, the Vastin kills him, and you made some money, easy, but noooo, you have to have a heart… I need to find a new line of work.”



(A few calls later)

“You want to kill a Vastin without any collateral damage? Are you nuts? You know they are from a metal world, very little organics. Their scales are composed of a tungsten osmium alloy and they line their entire body, even their insides. Their skeleton is a titanium lattice. They are impervious to fire, electricity, and plasma, unless you willing to take out a small country. What you want is impossible.”

“I thought you humans could kill anything?”

“We can kill it, just not without a lot of damage or a battle fleet to take it on in space.”

“You were my last hope. This Vastin pirate is terrorizing my customers, robs them of cargo they are transporting, takes fuel without paying. Everyone has started avoiding my sector and my business and family are suffering because of it.” the Greebek whined, nearly coming to tears.

“Alright listen, I will give you a number to call, tell them that I gave it to you and that you have a challenge for them. If there is anyone that can do it, this is the group.”

“Thank you very much.”



(Another call and an explanation later)

“You pose an interesting challenge. Let us do some research and think about it and we will get back to you.”

The group spent two days researching the Vastin, looking for any weakness they could exploit before they found one and called the Greebek back.

“We will take the job. Make a one million credit donation to our T.O.E.T.A.G. charity and cover expenses and we have a deal.”

“Fair enough. What is this charity?”

“Tributary Of Earth’s Terran Assassin Guild. (groan) It provides subsidiaries to help individuals affected by our work.”

“When will it be done?”

“You will know when it is over, we will contact you then.”

“Thank you.”



The guild members pondered the problem and decided that Aileen was the best at the skill needed to take care of the Vastin. Aileen was a five foot nothing typical fiery Irish redhead that was the meanest guild member when she was drinking. She bartered her way to the depot, working as a crewmember to keep expenses down and arrived after a couple of weeks. She entered the depot, a typical truckstop like place for spaceships with facilities for transferring loads, and made her way into the restaurant area. She scoped out the place until she decided on a spot that would give her a good view of both entrances. She ordered a coffee and waited.


She wouldn’t have to wait long, three coffees, before the Vastin showed up and immediately started making demands of the other patrons. As she watched, she pulled out a bottle of human beer, twisted the top off and took a big swig waiting until the time was right. When it had approached close enough, she downed the rest of the beer and slammed the bottle on the table and yelled. “Hey, ugly!” The Vastin turned, looked at her, opened his mouth to say something back, and with a quick flick of the fingers and wrist, she sent the bottle cap sailing through the air, right into its gaping maw and directly into the airhole in the back of its throat. As it inhaled to speak, the bottle cap was sucked down its airway and wedged itself, blocking the airflow. The Vastin tried to exhale to remove the blockage, but the caps ridges caught the scales and would not dislodge. As it struggled to breath, it tried to reach in and clear the obstruction, but it was unable to reach far enough. As panic started setting in, it started clawing at the back of its throat, ripping out scales and eventually chunks of what passes for flesh, but it was too late and it fell over dead, landing on a table and several chairs.


By the time the Greebek came out of its hiding place in the kitchen, the Vastin was dead and the assassin was nowhere to be found. When the carcass had been removed and the mess cleaned up, the Greebek received a call from the guild. “We have completed the job and have taken the Vastins ship as additional compensation. The expenses amounted to five hundred credits.”

“Five hundred credits?” the Greebek replied, surprised it was so little.

“Yeah, a bottle of Earth beer is hard to come by this far out. But, since a table and a couple of chairs were destroyed and there was supposed to be no collateral damage, we will deduct the replacement costs from the expenses, making it three hundred credits. We appreciate the business and the challenge, and if you ever need us again, give us a call.”

“I will, and thank you very much.”

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