The pub, called Ron’s Iron, was inside the hold of an old secure cargo ship. Minh-Chu had never seen the inside of one before. Most law-abiding humans hadn’t, in fact, since the majority of the ship was built like a vault with thrusters and a bridge. The outer hull itself had enough metal to build four Warlords, and she was five meters shorter.
The days of Ron’s Iron transporting precious goods were long over, however. Her cargo doors lay open with guards to either side. Tables and chairs were magnetically bound to the floor so they could slide but not be swung or thrown. The rear of the long hold was piled high with bottles, refrigeration crates, kegs, a few food processing machines, and other items waiting to be served. In front of it all was a bar built down the length of a heavy crossbeam. Several bartenders, one an issyrian who had two arms and two tentacles, deftly served the customers.
There were hundreds of patrons in attendance, and Minh couldn’t help but watch them as he sipped hot sake. Frost ordered three bottles for the table as soon as he saw it was available. “Just like home,” he said as he put the bottles down. A waitress followed close behind with cups. Minh didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t partial to it, but looked forward to the next round when he could try something else.
The Warlord crew had taken three tables. One played host to all but one of Minh’s pilots, another was mostly specialists and mechanics, and he sat at the third with Frost, Jacob, Agameg, and Finn. Minh-Chu scanned the room, looking from corporate hauler crews at one table, to nondescript patrons at another, to United Core World Confederation solders next to them, to another group of corporate freighter crewmen in loose vacsuits, and finally to another table with three nafalli leaning over it, having some kind of drinking contest. They’d open their long maws, lower their mouths over the top half of a bottle, tilt their heads back, then drink until one of them coughed or gurgled, or gave up. He watched for the fourth time as they all leaned back in their chairs, watchful of the others. One sputtered violently, and the others took their bottles out of their mouths so they could slap their mate on the arm and laugh. Once he recovered, the loser was off to get the next round.
“How are you finding the Warlord?” asked Agameg.
Minh-Chu only realized that the shape changer was talking to him after he noticed everyone else at the table was looking at him too. “It’ll be great when it’s finished. Great crew,” he answered hurriedly. “Strange destinations.”
“That’s a toast!” Frost exclaimed, slugging what was left of his sake back.
The rest of the table followed suit, except for Agameg, who daintily sipped instead. Finn stared at him. “I prefer to sip,” Agameg said with a defensive shrug. “I like it too much.”
“I think our wee pilot here,” Frost started as he poured more sake in his cup, “is quiet because he’s realizing he’s going to have his hands full with our Ashley. She’s not as low maintenance as she seems.”
The room seemed a couple degrees warmer to Minh-Chu just then.
“I think Ash’s taking it easy on him because she can sense Minh’s history with women is colourful and unlucky,” Jake said, calling a thin visi waiter over. The green and brown spots on his angular, stretched face and arms swirled and shifted.
“Everyone in the store was watching when they were all close-talk. I just caught the end of it, I think,” Frost said. “Depending on where you stand, you’re in luck or big trouble, lad.”
Minh-Chu watched Finn’s fairly lighthearted expression wilt until he realized that he was being watched. He stiffened up and looked away. Agameg had closed the eye facing Minh and watched Finn with the other, which had closed to a narrow slit as though he was wincing.
Jake returned his attention to the table after he finished placing his order with the waiter. He didn’t seem fazed by any of it, instead regarding Minh-Chu directly across the table. “Minh here trusted me enough to date one of his sisters once,” Jake said.
“I trusted you to ask her on a date once,” Minh corrected, trying to add a little levity to the table.
“Ah, right,” Jake said. “It didn’t work out.”
“She turned you down, Captain?” Frost asked with an expectant grin.
“I wasn’t good enough for her,” Jake replied to the amusement of Frost and several crew members at the other tables. “My point is, if he and Ash, who is like a daughter to me, want to share some time, then I’m not getting in their way. She’s not made of glass-“
“-And you’re not a total ass!” Frost finished for Jake abruptly, pointing at Minh-Chu. He obviously thought it was funnier than anyone else did.
When things settled a little, Minh looked at Jake, more to avoid looking at Finn. “Glad I have your permission,” Minh-Chu said.
“Oh, careful there,” Frost said. “Don’t let any of the ladies aboard hear that you needed Captain’s permission for anything where Ash or any other woman is concerned.”
“Right,” Minh-Chu said. “Good point. That could be taken the wrong way.”
A short, quiet discussion took place between Finn and Agameg. The pair rose. “We’re going to return to the ship,” Agameg announced politely. “There are things we want to do. I think,” he finished awkwardly.
“You can stay here,” Finn muttered as he walked away from the table.
“Or I can stay here?” Agameg said as he walked after him in confusion.
After another quiet moment of discussion, a Warlord marine joined Finn and Agameg returned to the table. “I can stay here,” he said with a shrug.
“I’m guessing that Finn and Ashley have history,” Minh said, looking around the table.
“Ash mooned over Finn while he was stuck in stasis,” Frost explained. “We got a real doctor who knew how to get him through some bio-regeneration-growback treatment and they broke down at the starting line.”
Jake regarded him with a surprised smile. “I didn’t know you followed scuttlebutt.”
“Can’t avoid it with Stephanie,” Frost grumbled. “Woman hears everything and holds a secret like a grave until she gets into our quarters. Then she yaps my ear off after our evening festivities, when there are festivities, that is.”
Minh-Chu watched as Stephanie entered the pub and started for their table. He wasn’t the only one. “Evening festivities?” Minh asked, aware of what Frost meant, but unable to resist the golden opportunity that lay before him.
“C’mon, lad. You know, the ‘sloppy sheet shuffle,’ ‘bunk bumpin’,’ or just plain bonk-a-donkin’. She’s a wonder when it happens, but it happens so rarely I can’t help but wonder.” He raised his glass, downed the contents and slammed it down on the table.
It was at this point that Jake realized that Stephanie was on quick approach behind Frost, and he silently mouthed ‘you’re evil,’ to Minh-Chu so Frost couldn’t see.
Frost went on. “We finally finish repairing our quarters on the Warlord and she’s too shy to get any midnight manoeuvres started because the walls are thin.” Stephanie already knew what Frost was talking about, and he went on, breaking into an enthusiastic mimicking act that sounded like a whining old woman. “But she keeps tellin’ me ‘no, there’s three bunks against this wall here, the crew’ll hear us like we’re in the same cabin,’ I would have never guessed she was such a-“ Minh supposed that it was Agameg’s saucer shaped eyes looking at Frost that told him that something was amiss, but he couldn’t be completely sure.
Stephanie stood behind Frost, burying a smile under a scowl, tapping her foot.
“She’s right behind me,” Frost grumbled, “isn’t she?”
Minh nodded sagely.
“I hate you,” Frost said to Minh-Chu with narrowed eyes. “Wee pilot.”
Minh, Jake, and several other crewmen at tables on either side of them burst into laughter.
Even Stephanie couldn’t help it, and gave Frost a showy, sloppy kiss. “You get the rest of the ship finished, soundproof the first officer’s quarters, and then we’ll see about midnight manoeuvres,” she said when they finished. She sat in his lap and regarded Jake. “Ash is trolling. Booty trap she calls it.”
“All right,” Jake said. “How many people are watching?”
“Five within a few second’s reach and we have a squad listening in,” Stephanie replied.
Minh was afraid to ask. He didn’t have to, Stephanie could tell that he was wondering and seemed happy to quietly explain. “She’s letting people buy her drinks and using a cheap scanner to read their comms, and get all their biometrics when they get close.”
“She’ll be all right?” Jake asked.
“Have you seen her fend them off when she hits the town?” Stephanie said. “All she has to do is play pretty, let them talk to her long enough and then say no thank you. Someone tries to grab her or do anything else that looks stupid? Well, we’ll take care of it. There are only two exits in this place, it’s perfect.”
“Whose idea?” asked Jake.
“Hers,” Stephanie said. “I think she wants to be fawned over for a bit, and wants to feel useful. Either way, she’s on the clock.”
Agameg was visibly concerned, shifting in his seat, his eyes slimmed to slits and the cilia on his face ruffling back and forth.
“I must have done it eight or nine times when we last privateered,” Stephanie reassured Agameg. “And that was before we had real marines aboard.”
“But you are a warrior,” Agameg said. “Ashley can only defend herself in arguments.”
Minh spotted her then, leaning over an entertainment console styled like an ancient jukebox. The large sidearm she’d been given bounced as she idly moved her hips to the beat of a musical collage of sound. The hem of her mini-dress seemed too short, even with a thin vacsuit underneath. Heads were turning. Ashley rolled a red slip of platinum over the back of her fingers as she browsed the selection. It slipped over her little finger then bounced off the edge of the machine and fell to the floor.
Before she could look at it, a tall, blonde man in a loose work suit marked with a Reittenheim logo on the back bent down and handed it to her with a big smile. Ashley dropped it into the machine and pushed one of the old clunky buttons. The bar’s lighting shifted to blue and holographic water serpents danced above their heads. The sounds of distorted string instruments and slow, steady percussion filled the space.
Ashley followed the tall work suit clad man to the bar. “She got one,” Stephanie said. She wasn’t facing Ashley but she could hear her through her earpiece. “What’s the logo on his vacsuit, Minh?”
“Reittenheim,” he replied.
“Now if Ashley knows what she’s doing,” Stephanie said, waiting for something to appear on her command unit as she shielded the small screen with her hand.
Minh watched as she stopped the man in the work suit by touching his hand, said a few words that he nodded to and walked on to the bar without him. “There it is,” Stephanie said quietly but with great triumph. “Got everything on his comm with no encryption. Did he follow her to the bar?”
“No,” Minh said, a little mystified. “He sat back down.”
“Good girl,” Stephanie grinned.
Agameg looked up from his own command unit with a look of surprise. “Reittenheim is a salvage company. Stellarnet says they’ve been looting human colonies that were ruined or abandoned because of machines infected with the Holocaust Virus.”
“And we know where his ship’s been, where it’s going, how many are aboard, their armaments, everything,” Stephanie said. “I just had to do a cross search with the port bulletin boards and the Stellarnet using his ident and the name of his ship.”
Minh watched as another patron approached Ashley where she was swaying to the music at the bar. “I wonder what she said to the corporate stooge to shake him off,” Minh wondered idly.
“She told him she was an issyrian shifted into the shape of a human,” Jake replied. “I’m listening in, it’s hilarious.”
“Some people are squeamish,” Frost offered with a shrug.
Agameg straightened in his seat. “I never understood why some of my people seek out intimate human companionship.” He looked to Minh, who seemed to be the only one listening. “I like humans, but I don’t liiike humans.” As he finished his remark, he momentarily rounded his features and flushed a rosy colour, looking strangely amorous.
“Of all the weird shapes I’ve seen you take, that’s the hardest to look at,” Frost commented.
“I’ll do it again if you don’t order me another bottle of sake. I’ve never tried it before, it’s good.”
“So you’ve said,” Frost replied.
Agameg started to turn a shade of pink.
Frost moved Stephanie off his lap and headed for the bar. “Another bottle coming up,” he said over his shoulder.
“Humans,” Agameg remarked with a too-wide smile.
“Ever since you came out of your shell you’ve been ten times the fun, Price,” Stephanie remarked. “Aggie here used to be shy, for a little over a year, I think.”
“Price?” Minh-Chu asked. The name didn’t sound issyrian.
“It’s my human name. I can’t spell my pod name in any of your languages,” Agameg explained as he helped Jake unload his order from the returning waiter. There were two pitchers of red draft for each of the tables with Warlord crew sitting at them, a tall, cold bottle of a drink called Epriselle, and a green bottle of High Menthe. Liqueur and beer glasses filled the rest of the space on the two trays. “Your round next,” Jake said to Minh-Chu.
“Sure, as long as I can get creative,” he replied. “I’m wondering, how did she defeat his comm’s encryption?”
“She didn’t,” Jake answered. “Most command and communication modules stay decrypted as long as they’re touching their owner. They have defences against scanning at a distance and wireless hacks, but she actually touches the scanner to their comm units so most of them think it’s her being friendly.”
Minh shook his head in mild admiration. “Note to self: don’t let strange women touch your comm unit.”
“Why does she call it a booty trap?” Agameg asked. “I’ve seen human entertainment that featured honey traps, and booby traps, and she seems equipped for both, but I’ve never heard of a booty trap.”
“That’s Ash’s adjustment,” Stephanie replied. “Her thinking is that she doesn’t have to get them into bed to get all their secrets, so it’s a booty trap.”
When Minh-Chu looked back to the bar where Ashley was leaning, an androgynous, large crewman in a Reittenheim vacsuit was leaning against the bar beside her. He watched as they spoke for a few moments. He could tell that Ashley was just humouring the newcomer, how he missed it he couldn’t imagine. The crewman’s hand slowly moved behind Ashley, finally coming to rest on the stretched hem of her dress, where it playfully tugged upwards, revealing nothing but his intentions - thankfully. Minh hadn’t been angry - truly angry - for a long time, but it hit him in a flash.
“Easy, lad,” Frost warned. “She’s handled worse.”
Ashley seized the crewman’s wrist and yanked it up behind his back, forcing him to bend over the bar. Minh could hear Ashley’s sudden prisoner apologize from where he was, over ten metres away. Other patrons applauded as she let the crewman go and he left, massaging his shoulder.
“See that?” Stephanie said with no small measure of pride. “I taught her that move when we first met, and she pulled it off as well as any marine and she scanned that thing’s comm while she had him pinned.”
“Maybe not quite as well,” Frost corrected.
“Well enough.”
Minh still wanted to exact his own revenge against the crewman, but took a deep breath then let it out slowly.
“You okay over there?” Stephanie asked with a mischievous smile.
“Imagination magnifies distress when we watch from a helpless distance,” Minh replied.
“Hey! That’s Inoshu!” cried Joyboy. “Right?”
Minh pointed to his nose, to Joyboy, then back to his nose.
“Hey! I got one!” Joyboy said, raising his glass.
“Not a really old one,” Pisser said. “That philosopher only died what, seventy years ago?”
“Still, I don’t see anyone else tagging Ronin’s quotes,” Joyboy shot back.
“High points for you, then,” Megan, said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Do you want to listen?” Stephanie offered, pointing to her ear. “She’s actually settling in and getting social.”
“I’m good,” Minh answered. Listening to Ashley turn down several men, and who knew what else, as she lounged by the bar wasn’t his idea of fun. “I’m sure she’s safe in your hands.”
“If I weren’t hearing it for myself I wouldn’t believe it,” Jake said. “She’s had two drinks and she’s scanned four comms. Three were unencrypted. It’s intimidating.”
“Tell me about it,” Minh-Chu agreed.
“I have an idea,” Jake said. “Why don’t we Minh you next time. What do you think, Steph?”
Stephanie looked Minh-Chu up and down, joined by Agameg. “Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “Put him in a casual vacsuit - maybe a spray on - and I could definitely see him pulling.”
“That’s not funny,” Minh-Chu retorted, laughing nervously. “We wore spray-ons when we were in training. There’s nowhere to hide in one of those. I’d have to borrow that mini-dress so I could have a shred of modesty left.” The tables exploded at the notion.
Thankfully, turning away barroom callers came to an end when Ashley started simply talking to different people around her. Most of the chummy patrons were men, but a few women were glad to share a few drinks and company. It was slower going, but she managed to download the contents of six more comm units.
“So, Ronin,” said Joyboy. “I’ve looked at all the training briefs you put together about privateering. You ever do caravan busting?”
“Caravan busting?” Minh asked. “Never heard of it.”
“Some of it’s a lot like taking down-“
“Showing superiority,” Minh corrected. “We’re not looking to destroy our targets.”
“Right, but yeah, some of the tactics in your briefs are a lot like caravan busting. Something I got to do a few times for the Dens.”
“That wasn’t in your records,” Minh replied with interest.
“Well, I was just another hired hand for the Den family. Nothing exciting, just flew an old Arrest Mark Nine Patrol Fighter and played harasser.”
“It’s still experience,” Minh said. Joyboy wasn’t the most socially graceful person he’d ever met, but he was a good pilot. It was too bad he would be reassigning him when they returned to Tamber. “Think you could put some info together about your caravan breaking days?”
Joyboy seemed genuinely surprised, then smiled slowly. “Yeah, if you think it’ll help.”
“It could. Just send it to me first. I’ll have to make sure what we use fits into our current strategies.”
“Thanks,” Joyboy said. “Oh, and I was wondering about something, but I hope you don’t think I’m dense for asking.”
“There are no stupid questions,” Minh replied, hoping Joyboy wouldn’t prove him wrong in front of tables full of crewmembers.
“Well, I know materializers are expensive, but the Order of Eden just swallowed up Regent Galactic, and that’s a huge corp with tons of cash. They could afford to build as many materializers as they want.”
“Yeah,” broke in Pisser. “Why ship all this stuff from their main worlds?”
Minh-Chu thought for a moment and was about to answer when Agameg offered an explanation instead. “Quality, quantity, cost, and efficiency,” Agameg said. “When we were defending the Trition, a lot of us were using rifles that were assembled with parts from materializers. While they were nice and light, they weren’t as durable and they started falling apart after three or so hours of intensive use.”
“Yup,” agreed one of the Warlord Marines. “The flash shielding and my muzzle were toast on my pulse rifle after the first day. We had to wrap the open chamber with torn up strips from vacsuits to stop them from interfering with the comms.”
“Exactly,” Agameg said. “Some of the best food I’ve had comes from materializers too, but that eats up so much power and water that it’s less expensive and more efficient to grow or ship food in whenever you can.”
“What about our medical materializers?” asked Joyboy, pointing to his bulky military grade arm unit.
“They use water and recycled solid waste from your vacsuit with bulk matter in a small compartment, otherwise these things wouldn’t be able to fabricate much of anything,” said one of the marines behind him. “Read the bloody manual, it’s right there.”
“Sorry, I’ve been busy learning about my Uriel starfighter,” Joyboy shot back. “Didn’t have much time to watch a series of docs about my C and C.”
“Pilots,” commented a second marine, a woman with a shaved head.
“Easy,” Minh-Chu warned quietly. “Same side.”
“Next round’s on you Chavez,” Stephanie told her bald marine.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Chavez acknowledged.
“Right,” Agameg continued. “Does that answer your questions?”
“I guess,” Joyboy answered. “To be honest, before I was on the Triton I think I’d seen one materializer in my entire life. Used to break down all the time, too.”
“Yup.” Minh-Chu nodded. “Materializers do that a lot. Anything that turns energy or raw materials into something else is bound to.”
“I hope we get a whole hold full on this trip, though,” Pisser said. “If I have to eat untextured forma again, I might go on a hunger strike. It’s like eating flavoured clay.”
“I know-“ Joyboy started, but was interrupted by a commotion at the door. Tables and chairs were moved, several people stood so they could see outside and there were sporadic cheers.
Guards in heavy blue and red armour bearing long rifles held across their chests marched in. Their helmets weren’t solid, but built in overlapping segments like the rest of their protective gear. Two slanted, dark red lenses made each guard look deadly serious. Among their ranks were a few workers in vacsuits pushing crates stacked on struggling hovercarts. At the rear swaggered a man with short cropped, light brown hair in a long blue and red coat with two more guards at each side. He wore the same hard-shelled, segmented armour under his coat only he carried his helmet in the crook of his arm. A Postal Service flag marked his shoulders, and his cuffs were marked with the gold bars of captain.
Stephanie perked up in Frost’s lap. He nearly spilled his beer mid-journey to his mouth.
“It’s Berkovitz!” she said.
“I thought you knew we’d be meeting him here,” Jake said as he and the rest of the table took a better look.
“I thought he’d send a messenger,” Stephanie said. “That sidearm’s new.”
“So’s the shield belt,” Agameg added. “Good to see he’s taking precautions.”
The column of guards and their line of fifteen one-metre cube crates stacked three high neared the bar. “Company halt!” barked Captain Berkovitz. “Delivery for Culus Disas!”
A visi with erratically moving yellow and dark green colouring came out from the rear of the bar. The waiters and tenders stopped what they were doing and watched as their boss stopped to stand in front of Captain Berkovitz, who held up his hand in front of the man’s face. A beam from his palm scanned the receiver, then Captain Berkovitz nodded. “So delivered!” he announced.
Culus Disas handed him two pocket sized, locked cases as his staff went to work opening the cases. Inside were branded boxes of spirits and delicacies that no one recognized. Captain Berkovitz handed the cases he’d been given by Culus to a guard, who nodded then led most of his comrades out of the establishment in a double column.
Accompanied by four of his guards, Captain Berkovitz turned to the tables occupied by the Warlord crew and grinned in their direction. He made it halfway before Ashley rushed over and collided with him, squealing with delight. He made the rest of the way with her under his arm. “Look who I found,” he announced as he presented Ashley, who gave him a final squeeze before letting go.
Minh watched as Stephanie gave him a hug, then Frost, Jake, and Agameg all took turns shaking his hand. “And this is Wing Commander Minh-Chu Buu, call sign Ronin,” Jake introduced. Minh stood and shook the newcomer’s hand.
“Good to meet you,” Captain Berkovitz said. He looked over his shoulder to his four guards. “At ease. Have a drink and sit nearby. Stay away from the heavy narcos.”
They removed their helmets and started for the bar.
A chair was dragged over for the newcomer along with an extra table for his guards. Captain Berkovitz took a seat.
Instead of finding a seat for herself, Ashley dropped into Minh’s lap, much to his surprise. She opened his bomber jacket and slipped her arm around his back. “Okay if I hide in here?” she asked, her face less than a finger’s breadth away. “I got a little more popular than expected.”
“A little shell shocked, Ash?” Stephanie asked.
“You know, it was easy after the first one,” Ashley replied quietly. She pulled Minh’s arm around her waist and he was happy to oblige. Her dark eyes looked around the large bar room then back to Stephanie. “I’ll do that again, if we’re hard up for a target, but maybe in a smaller place next time.”
“You okay?” Minh-Chu whispered in her ear. “Is there anything I can do?”
Ashley regarded him with a smile, her dark brown eyes so close he thought he would fall in. “You’re doin’ it,” she whispered.
“If you don’t mind me saying,” Agameg said as he poured Captain Berkovitz a tall pint. The ale didn’t have any evidence of alcohol in the flavour, so Minh assumed it had some other enhancement additive. “The two of you look very compatible now that I see you together.” Minh flushed, and as he looked at the issyrian - his eyes matching the shape of his mouth as he smiled at them - he noticed that Ashley was blushing as well.
“What about us, Aggie?” asked Stephanie from where she sat in Frost’s lap. It was a rare playful moment.
Agameg finished sitting down, looked at her and Frost with a cocked head then took a sip from his sake. The reaction caused a ripple of laughter around the table. “Compatibility isn’t always obvious,” Agameg said hurriedly, trying to control any damage he could have done. “There are a lot of factors, I was just considering-“
“It’s okay,” Ashley soothed. “They’re kind of a freak collision, hard to call for anybody.”
Captain Berkovitz nodded. “I know I wouldn’t have put you two together,” he added. “But it looks good from here.”
“Thank you, Allan,” Stephanie said.
“Not much else has changed,” Captain Berkovitz said, looking around the tables. “A few new faces, some pretty professional gear, but it’s good to see most of the gang’s still here.”
“That’s something that changed then came back around,” Jake corrected. “A lot’s happened since you hired us on Spula. The Samson’s running with a full crew, in pretty bad shape on the inside, but she’s a fighting ship now, and she’s called the Warlord.”
“Privateering?” Captain Berkovitz asked quietly.
“Piracy, actually. Only against Order of Eden allies, though,” Jake replied to Captain Berkovitz quietly. “I’m surprised the GPC is still running, especially out this far. Last I saw you, the Sinjin was headed for the core worlds.”
“The Galactic Postal Service went offline about two months ago,” Berkovitz explained. “Last thing I got were the ownership codes for the Sinjin and an official message telling me the ship was mine. Things were getting really good right up until the virus hit. We made it to the Core Worlds, settled on Emmaus. Got to spend the better part of a year there, too. Bought a nice place in New Wynne, managed to go on shorter runs, spent more time with Suzanne and the kids.”
“How are they?” asked Ashley timidly. Minh could tell she was bracing herself against the worst.
“They’re good,” Captain Berkovitz said, brightening at the mention of his family. “Going a little stir crazy stuck aboard the Sinjin full time. Suzanne misses her garden. She’s trying to make something grow in a corner of a cargo hold, but it’s not the same.”
“How’d you end up all the way out here?” Frost asked.
“The Core Worlds are deadly. Worse than the outer sectors,” Captain Berkovitz said. “I barely got my people off-world, and we spent a month rescuing my crew’s surviving families. After a near miss with a few Eden ships, we set our heading for the fringe and didn’t look back. The Core Worlds are as good as gone. There aren’t enough EMP’s in the galaxy to clear out the infected AIs. If there’s going to be a core to human civilization, it’s out here.”
“Dangerous place to play courier,” Jake said. “There have got to be a couple dozen captains marking your ship for capture while you sit here.”
“I’m not worried. First thing I do when I come out of a wormhole is send every ship in the area a message with our service list. I bet half the captains in this port have registered their ships with us so they can pick up messages from info drones. Besides, the visi have my back. Anyone takes a shot at me and they’ll have a Junglaz battle cruiser after them.”
“Now that’s cover,” Frost said. “I guess they get their deliveries free.”
“Nope, fifteen percent discount,” Captain Berkovitz said with a smile. “If you thought shipping rates were high before the virus hit, you should see them now. The most dangerous thing we do now is recover cargo from sorting and storage facilities. After the Holocaust Virus the security doesn’t even recognize us, so it feels like all-out war when we take on a group of security bots.”
“So you’re finishing deliveries from before the fall?” Stephanie asked.
“Not for free,” Captain Berkovitz said. “Someone pays us to retrieve something that was on its way to them and we find out which depot or ship it was on. If it’s in reach, we go get it. I’ve hired a couple of honest captains to do some of the work for me, but finding an honest ship is next to impossible these days.”
“We can talk about that,” Jake said, raising his glass.
“Definitely,” Captain Berkovitz replied. “So, what’s the story with the Warlord? You guys look like you’re in one piece, except for Frost here. Part of him scans new.”
“Had a run in with an Eden bot, nasty buggers,” Frost said. “Had a new leg grown from the shin down.”
“We’re settling on Tamber, in the Rega Gain System. If you’re looking for a place to set down, we’re colonizing an island in the tropical region there.”
“You’re kidding,” Captain Berkovitz said. The GPC guards - two female and two male - who were just sitting down with their drinks stopped, shocked and hopeful. “Jake, I don’t know what to say.”
“Allan, the first time you paid me I was down to nine crew and had about twenty credits,” Jake said. “You saved my ass then and threw me work whenever I was in range for over three years, work I never regretted doing. It’s the least I could do, especially if you’ve got kids in tow.”
“I have a daughter,” said one of the guards. “Garnet here has a husband and two kids.”
Captain Berkovitz glanced at them and they quietly took their seats at the table and quieted down. “Jake,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to talk to my people about this, and take a look at the place, but what you’re offering,” he shook his head, “it’s a godsend.”
“It’s not without strings,” Jake said quietly. “You’ve seen more inhabited worlds and ships than anyone I’ve met. We’re scraping for intel. We’re in Hodria Port because you told us about it. If it weren’t for your tip, we’d be going on the word of a new partner, a very new partner. Honestly, if it weren’t for our Ashley here, we’d be following people around in cloaksuits trying to scan their comms for leads for hours. At worst, we’d have to tag a ship blind and try to take it down without knowing what or who’s aboard.”
Minh-Chu felt Ashley straighten in his lap. “You’re welcome, Captain,” she said quietly with a satisfied grin.
“You’re getting a share hike for this run,” Jake whispered back before looking back to Captain Berkovitz. “Still, out of all the intel she just gathered, we’ve only got one solid lead, but with your charts and anything you’ve got stored in memory from passive navigational scans, we’ll actually have some real information.”
Allan smiled broadly. “You’re dealing with the Carthans on Tamber, right?”
“My people are,” Jake said. “We have a negotiating team.”
“Must be a good one if they let you settle on a terraformed moon, or you had something big to trade.”
“Huge,” Frost said. “Captured battle cruiser.”
“What?” Allan said. “I’ve been hearing a lot about you - mostly through the Order of Eden broadcasts - but nothing about a captured battle cruiser. You didn’t take it with the Warlord, did you?”
“Hell no,” Frost said with a chuckle. “Longer story there. Our operation has gotten a wee bit bigger since we last shared a course.”
“It must have,” Captain Berkovitz said. “All right, I have a run to Schengal Three, it’ll take me about six days to finish that and get to Tamber. Send me information about this colony. If it’s as good as it sounds, then I’ll transfer a copy of everything in my data core. That includes a few hypertransmitter hacks my comms genius programmed for getting into Regent Galactic message systems.”
“Now, how did you break their rolling encryptions?” asked Pisser. “It’s impossible.”
“Let’s just say everything I was delivering for Regent Galactic got lost when the virus hit,” Captain Berkovitz said.
“So you used their hardware to make some kind of emulator that makes it look like your ship is just another hypertransmitter or something?”
“Or something,” Berkovitz replied. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Just so you don’t get your hopes up too high,” Jake said. “Don’t expect to see anything but jungle, sand, and a few old bunkers there. The people I’m in with just secured ownership right before we left.”
“I don’t mind,” Captain Berkovitz said. “If it’s protected by the Carthan fleet, and it’s big enough for the families that are stuck aboard the Sinjin, then I’m in.” He worked at a few controls on the inside of his gauntlet’s wrist for a moment. “Here, this is all the data we have on this solar system along with a list of all the shipping companies working for Regent Galactic. It should make picking targets easier.” The light-hearted expression on Captain Berkovitz’s face darkened as he looked at the comm screen on the inside of his wrist. “I’ve got a priority navigational update here,” he said, looking to Captain Valent. “Tamber is under attack by a primary Order of Eden fleet. The Rega Gain system is marked as a war zone.”
“How much to get the codes for that network?” Jake asked. All the Warlord crew members were standing up and getting ready to leave, Ashley and Minh-Chu included.
“You’ll pay me back,” Captain Berkovitz said. “Here are the codes, good luck.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Jacob Valent said.