Commander Amieta Invelen strode into the Captain's quarters without knocking - not a privilege enjoyed by anyone else on the crew. Strictly speaking, not one the XO should have either. Just one of the ways we've been sloppy, Amieta thought. And the Cluster hasn't fallen on our heads, has it?
Silver was at a work bench - real wood, of course - very carefully teasing apart the pages of a book that had clearly seen better days. Better centuries, even.
Probably another accounting ledger or a manual on second dynasty sewage treatment. Just so long as it's old. Amieta rolled her eyes and cleared her throat, and Silver looked up from the book with a barely perceptible start, and then a barely perceptible smile. "Ami."
Amieta closed the door behind her. One more habit we should never have gotten in to. Still, the carelessness they'd both slipped into worked in her favor now. "Silver, we should talk."
His gaze sharpened. "Is something - "
"No," she said quickly. "Nothing's wrong. It's - I'll make us some tea, okay?"
By the time the tea was ready, Silver had carefully stored away the guide to animal husbandry or whatever it was. Amieta poured for them both as he took a seat across the low table from her.
He took his tea, "We don't do this often enough, anymore."
"You're probably right." Ami shrugged, "A lot's changed. That's what I wanted to talk with you about."
Silver sipped his tea and waited. Politely. As usual. Used to infuriate me. Still does, sometimes. It's better, for this though. Better to be able to say what I need to say.
"Cia's ... she's not doing so well, right now. And how things are, between us ... she needs to be able to tell Dr Akell about what's happened. All of what's happened."
Silver frowned slightly, and Amieta hurried on before he could speak, "I know, I know what you're thinking. I think the security issue is pretty much gone, now. I don't think keeping things secret makes any of us any safer. It was you and me for a long time, and I know you just wanted to make sure I was safe. Make sure they couldn't use me against you. But there have been rumors, among the crew, for a long time. Anyone who wants to buy a few drinks for any of the crew on leave can find out that we've been a bit closer than employee and employer."
Silver set his cup down. "Ami ..."
Amieta interrupted him, "As for Cia, well. She's high profile all by herself, now. Not the wet behind the ears pilot she was when you first met her. If anything, more people knowing what's between you and her might make her safer. Knowing it's not just that you're good friends and that they'd be in for a pain shit-storm if they touched her. It might even keep you safer too. I mean, she's a director now." Amieta snorted, "She's probably scarier than you, to some people. Anyway, we can start slow. Just let Hiri - Dr Akell - know, to begin with. We're fucked anyway, if we can't trust her."
Silver finally managed to get a few words in, "If you're sure. Ami, you know it was always about safety. You, Cia, Camille ... It's-"
"-dangerous being close to a podder." Amieta finished for him, The more some things change, the more they stay the same, "I know. But Cia's a target whether you are in the picture or not. So is Camille, because she's Cia's sister. Also whether you're in the picture or not. And Silver, with the twins coming ... a lot of things are about to change."
He nodded, with the faintest trace of a smile. "Unexpectedly. Not unwelcome, of course. But ..."
"I know. How do you think I feel?" Amieta asked. "I feel responsible, you know. You two would still be polite acquaintances if not for the decisions I made. And Cia ... never asked for any of the complications, and she's kept our secrets whatever the cost. And Silver, you know what it cost."
"I know," Silver said quietly. "I was there, Ami."
"It's still costing her. What she can't talk about, to her doctor, hells, I'm half-convinced it's part of what's got her twisted around with Charlie." Amieta shrugged. "How can she get close to someone she's keeping a gigantic mindfuck of a secret from?" She sipped her tea, and watched him over the rim of her cup. "Unless you're thinking that's better. That she goes on keeping him at arm's length."
"That would be ... selfish." Silver said. He paused, and Amieta kept quiet, Let him work out the truth of it himself.
Their closeness was one of the things that made her such a good XO for him. Much easier to anticipate the Captain when you were that close. Easier to tell when he was going to get that you were right -That being most of the time- too. Eventually, he nodded, as she'd known he would. "You're right, Ami. I don't think we have to keep it quite so secret. Keeping everything quiet has served its purpose, but things change. Have changed."
Amieta finished her tea, "Thanks. I'll tell Dr Akell."
"And Cia?" Silver asked.
Amieta shook her head. "She needs to hear it from you, Silver. That it's your decision, not just me telling her what I want to be true. I know it's not ..." She glanced at the teapot and quirked an eyebrow. "Your cup of tea, that sort of conversation. But this really is something she needs to hear from you."
Silver nodded, "I'll just ... try to get used to the idea. It can be an adjustment. Letting go of things."
"Yeah, some things they don't make a skill pack for."
"Actually..."
Amieta rolled her eyes, though with a smile, and left.
Thursday
Job Interview
She was leaving a funeral when he saw her.
She saw him, too. A thrill of... something, when their eyes met. Something he thought he wouldn't feel again. Recognition, maybe, or the nameless sense of knowing that recognition was a pale shadow of.
She was thin. Not like a holostar, but wiry. Spare. Hard blue eyes in a face with its share of laugh-lines.
She cut through the crowd toward him, held out her hand, "I'm Amieta."
He shook her hand. His reply was automatic. Ingrained. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Captain Silver Night."
Vaguely friendly, but impersonal. His expression was a politely interested mask. He could feel the hard metal of a prosthetic under the gloves she was wearing.
I'm right, he thought. I'm wrong.
She's still holding my hand.
I'm right.
She spoke again, voice low with a faint smoker's rasp. "You want to get out of here? Maybe get a drink?"
He didn't drink. He couldn't let her leave. He released her hand and found himself saying, "I would like that, yes."
They found a place a couple of levels down, a low end place catering to dock-workers where shoddy maintenance had green streaks striping condensation-damp walls. They settled at a rickety table with their cheap synthetic whiskeys. Amieta spoke before the uncomfortable silence could gain too much momentum, "You're a podder."
Silver stopped himself from reaching back and touching the plug on the back of his neck. Even though it hadn't been a question, he answered, "Yes. A couple of years, now. For Ishukone, mostly."
She nodded, "I'm in independent security consulting. Up north."
Guristas, she meant. Silver took a drink. Realized he didn't really care if she was a Gurista. Didn't care, right then, that he didn't drink, that she was a Gurista, that this was the last place in the Cluster he'd ever chose to socialize, that he didn't have his security detail, that there was every chance they might be seen.
Nothing mattered but the woman sitting across from him.
"How did you get into that?"
She paused, threw back her drink, and told him. He knew after the first sentence he didn't want to know, knew at the same time that he had to know.
Because it was her.
Because it had always been her.
He couldn't remember later how long it took her to tell the story. Not long, compared to how long it had taken her to live through it. Long enough for a scattering of empty glasses to accumulate in front of both of them.
He tried to think of what to say. Something that wasn't polite and hollow. Something that didn't have pity, or sympathy, or any of the other things he already knew she wouldn't have much use for.
I'll kill them for you. All of them. I'm a podder, that's a promise I can keep.
"Ami - "
His chair flew out from under him and he looked up to see a handful of people in KK service crew uniforms. The one still holding Silver's chair smiled, showing yellowed teeth with a certain lack of sincerity, "You're sitting at our table. This is my chair."
Silver wobbled to his feet. Floor. Moving. Oh, whiskey, that's right. "I'm sure we can-"
Suddenly he was on the ground again, and his jaw hurt something fierce. The man had hit him. Silver scrambled to his feet, adrenaline clearing his head a bit as he tried to remember years-ago self-defense training. The KK crewmen were laughing.
"You can have my chair." Amieta stepped past him, swinging her chair in a tight arc that ended abruptly with the lead KK thug. He went down in a tangle with the wreckage, and Silver stared for a moment, then charged another of the crewmen. He thought that it seemed to be the thing to do, or perhaps the whiskey thought it seemed to be the thing to do.
Tackling him to the ground, Silver got an elbow in the stomach for his trouble. He tried to punch for the man's head, but slammed his wrist into the corner of the bar. He realized, as the man he'd tackled threw him off and into another group of patrons, that he might be a bit out of his depth. He struggled back to his feet and saw Amieta casually headbutt someone, and backhand someone else. She looks like she's having a good time, anyway.
He heard the scrape of chairs behind him, and thought perhaps he should explain it was an accident, knocking over their table. He turned just in time to get punched in the face. Again.
This time, as he sat on the floor trying to get his bearings, a strong hand hauled him up by the collar, and Amieta said in his ear, "Time to go, flyboy. Come on, out the back."
She grabbed his hand, and he tried to keep up as she fled out the back, stumbling after her while angry customers and the sound of approaching station security pursued them. He slipped and slid in something in the alley behind the dive, but she kept him from falling and dragged him around the corner before she let go so that they could both sprint as fast as possible away. They had a good head start, but the sounds of pursuit stayed close as they ducked through twists and turns in the bowels of the station.
Suddenly, he realized she was no longer in front of him, and turned in confusion. He'd lost sight of her for only a moment, and she'd disappeared. Security was close behind them, and -
The walls flew sideways, a firm grip on his arm yanking him into a maintenance corridor. He lost his balance, fell on something soft and hard as the door slid shut behind him, and blinked his vision clear to see Amieta looking up at him, finger to her lips, eyes dancing. Footsteps pounded past outside and Silver held his breath until they faded away into the distance.
"You can get up now," Amieta said.
Silver disentangled himself and propped himself against the wall. Amieta sat up and shuffled over next to him, shoulder touching his. He shook from the adrenaline. He was alone with an admitted pirate, and wanted by station security. He could see his knuckles were split, though he didn't remember getting any punches in. He could taste his own blood, over the flavor of the whiskey. His clothes were almost certainly ruined.
Amieta was laughing.
Silver realized he was too.
"You were pretty terrible back there, you know?" she said. "I thought pod-pilots were supposed to be all fearsome and dangerous."
"With a battleship, perhaps," Silver said.
She turned to look at him. "Did it hurt? Getting those things put in?"
"No."
"And now you can't ever die." There was something wistful in her lopsided smile.
"Pilots can die," Silver said. "Not easily. And those close to us ... podders are dangerous. To those close to us, most of all."
"So you call yourself 'Silver Night'," Amieta said. "Can I - " She raised one hand towards his neck, stopped.
The implants were capped, of course, but still, a direct neural connection to his brain. Not something you let strangers near.
She wasn't a stranger, not in any of the ways that mattered. Silver bent his head forward and felt her cool metal fingers trace the edges of the implant jacks, a touch as delicate as a surgeon's from hands that could rip apart a landcar. The forearm resting against his neck was as hard and unyielding as her fingers.
"Your arms," he asked. "Are they - ?"
Amieta drew back with a smile. "All the way up. Want to see?" Without waiting for an answer she shrugged out of her jacket and then yanked her shirt over her head in one economical movement. "Meets at the back here, they rebuilt the spine, can you see? It's pretty good work, I was pissed when it happened, though. Woke up in hospital with - what?"
Silver realized he was staring, couldn't stop. Amieta's body was a map of near-catastrophe, metal and scars, a hundred different ways she could have died if things had been a millimeter different, a hundred different ways she and he could never have found themselves in this maintenance corridor together tonight.
"What is it?" Amieta asked.
"I can't believe we're here. Here doing this." Silver said honestly. "That's all. I can't believe you're real."
She took him by the shoulders, "Damn right, I'm real."
Her gaze searched his. "Damn right," she said again, more softly. "And so are you. 'Silver Night'."
It was hours later when they emerged back into the light of the station. Silver straightened his coat and took a tactful step upwind of Amieta's cigarette.
They both began to speak at the same time, "Well that was-" "It was good to-"
They both stumbled to an awkward silence at the same time too. Amieta broke it first, "I should probably go. My cover here's pretty thin. If they review the video ..."
"Oh, of course."
"It was good to-." She shrugged, "It was good. I'll see you again. Sometime."
Her hand on his cheek was cool, even through the glove. The light brush of a kiss on his opposite cheek, "Bye."
He thought he was going to say 'Bye' too, as she turned and walked away. But she was leaving, and her body was a map of a hundred ways she might never make it to 'sometime' alive.
And it was her
It had always been her.
Silver opened his mouth to say goodbye, and it came out, "Come work for me."
Amieta turned back to him, "What?"
He pressed on, "Work for me. Be my XO - second in command."
"I've never..."
"I don't care. It doesn't matter. The pay's good, you have command experience, and..." He shrugged.
"And?" Amieta studied him.
"We'd be together." Silver realized he was begging, or close to it. "Not like - like this. It wouldn't be safe. But if we were careful, discreet ..."
Amieta hesitated, "I'm a criminal."
"I know that's not everything you are."
"What if I'm no good at it?"
Silver recognized a last, token protest, saw the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, and exhaled in relief. "We'll put you in charge of chair breaking."
She hesitated, then nodded, "Okay. Okay, I'll do it."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah." She searched for another cigarette, "Guess I'm starting right away, before security wants me for questioning. We should go."
Silver smiled, "Of course. Welcome to the crew, Commander."
"Commander Invelen, I like that. Thank you, Captain Night."
She saw him, too. A thrill of... something, when their eyes met. Something he thought he wouldn't feel again. Recognition, maybe, or the nameless sense of knowing that recognition was a pale shadow of.
She was thin. Not like a holostar, but wiry. Spare. Hard blue eyes in a face with its share of laugh-lines.
She cut through the crowd toward him, held out her hand, "I'm Amieta."
He shook her hand. His reply was automatic. Ingrained. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Captain Silver Night."
Vaguely friendly, but impersonal. His expression was a politely interested mask. He could feel the hard metal of a prosthetic under the gloves she was wearing.
I'm right, he thought. I'm wrong.
She's still holding my hand.
I'm right.
She spoke again, voice low with a faint smoker's rasp. "You want to get out of here? Maybe get a drink?"
He didn't drink. He couldn't let her leave. He released her hand and found himself saying, "I would like that, yes."
They found a place a couple of levels down, a low end place catering to dock-workers where shoddy maintenance had green streaks striping condensation-damp walls. They settled at a rickety table with their cheap synthetic whiskeys. Amieta spoke before the uncomfortable silence could gain too much momentum, "You're a podder."
Silver stopped himself from reaching back and touching the plug on the back of his neck. Even though it hadn't been a question, he answered, "Yes. A couple of years, now. For Ishukone, mostly."
She nodded, "I'm in independent security consulting. Up north."
Guristas, she meant. Silver took a drink. Realized he didn't really care if she was a Gurista. Didn't care, right then, that he didn't drink, that she was a Gurista, that this was the last place in the Cluster he'd ever chose to socialize, that he didn't have his security detail, that there was every chance they might be seen.
Nothing mattered but the woman sitting across from him.
"How did you get into that?"
She paused, threw back her drink, and told him. He knew after the first sentence he didn't want to know, knew at the same time that he had to know.
Because it was her.
Because it had always been her.
He couldn't remember later how long it took her to tell the story. Not long, compared to how long it had taken her to live through it. Long enough for a scattering of empty glasses to accumulate in front of both of them.
He tried to think of what to say. Something that wasn't polite and hollow. Something that didn't have pity, or sympathy, or any of the other things he already knew she wouldn't have much use for.
I'll kill them for you. All of them. I'm a podder, that's a promise I can keep.
"Ami - "
His chair flew out from under him and he looked up to see a handful of people in KK service crew uniforms. The one still holding Silver's chair smiled, showing yellowed teeth with a certain lack of sincerity, "You're sitting at our table. This is my chair."
Silver wobbled to his feet. Floor. Moving. Oh, whiskey, that's right. "I'm sure we can-"
Suddenly he was on the ground again, and his jaw hurt something fierce. The man had hit him. Silver scrambled to his feet, adrenaline clearing his head a bit as he tried to remember years-ago self-defense training. The KK crewmen were laughing.
"You can have my chair." Amieta stepped past him, swinging her chair in a tight arc that ended abruptly with the lead KK thug. He went down in a tangle with the wreckage, and Silver stared for a moment, then charged another of the crewmen. He thought that it seemed to be the thing to do, or perhaps the whiskey thought it seemed to be the thing to do.
Tackling him to the ground, Silver got an elbow in the stomach for his trouble. He tried to punch for the man's head, but slammed his wrist into the corner of the bar. He realized, as the man he'd tackled threw him off and into another group of patrons, that he might be a bit out of his depth. He struggled back to his feet and saw Amieta casually headbutt someone, and backhand someone else. She looks like she's having a good time, anyway.
He heard the scrape of chairs behind him, and thought perhaps he should explain it was an accident, knocking over their table. He turned just in time to get punched in the face. Again.
This time, as he sat on the floor trying to get his bearings, a strong hand hauled him up by the collar, and Amieta said in his ear, "Time to go, flyboy. Come on, out the back."
She grabbed his hand, and he tried to keep up as she fled out the back, stumbling after her while angry customers and the sound of approaching station security pursued them. He slipped and slid in something in the alley behind the dive, but she kept him from falling and dragged him around the corner before she let go so that they could both sprint as fast as possible away. They had a good head start, but the sounds of pursuit stayed close as they ducked through twists and turns in the bowels of the station.
Suddenly, he realized she was no longer in front of him, and turned in confusion. He'd lost sight of her for only a moment, and she'd disappeared. Security was close behind them, and -
The walls flew sideways, a firm grip on his arm yanking him into a maintenance corridor. He lost his balance, fell on something soft and hard as the door slid shut behind him, and blinked his vision clear to see Amieta looking up at him, finger to her lips, eyes dancing. Footsteps pounded past outside and Silver held his breath until they faded away into the distance.
"You can get up now," Amieta said.
Silver disentangled himself and propped himself against the wall. Amieta sat up and shuffled over next to him, shoulder touching his. He shook from the adrenaline. He was alone with an admitted pirate, and wanted by station security. He could see his knuckles were split, though he didn't remember getting any punches in. He could taste his own blood, over the flavor of the whiskey. His clothes were almost certainly ruined.
Amieta was laughing.
Silver realized he was too.
"You were pretty terrible back there, you know?" she said. "I thought pod-pilots were supposed to be all fearsome and dangerous."
"With a battleship, perhaps," Silver said.
She turned to look at him. "Did it hurt? Getting those things put in?"
"No."
"And now you can't ever die." There was something wistful in her lopsided smile.
"Pilots can die," Silver said. "Not easily. And those close to us ... podders are dangerous. To those close to us, most of all."
"So you call yourself 'Silver Night'," Amieta said. "Can I - " She raised one hand towards his neck, stopped.
The implants were capped, of course, but still, a direct neural connection to his brain. Not something you let strangers near.
She wasn't a stranger, not in any of the ways that mattered. Silver bent his head forward and felt her cool metal fingers trace the edges of the implant jacks, a touch as delicate as a surgeon's from hands that could rip apart a landcar. The forearm resting against his neck was as hard and unyielding as her fingers.
"Your arms," he asked. "Are they - ?"
Amieta drew back with a smile. "All the way up. Want to see?" Without waiting for an answer she shrugged out of her jacket and then yanked her shirt over her head in one economical movement. "Meets at the back here, they rebuilt the spine, can you see? It's pretty good work, I was pissed when it happened, though. Woke up in hospital with - what?"
Silver realized he was staring, couldn't stop. Amieta's body was a map of near-catastrophe, metal and scars, a hundred different ways she could have died if things had been a millimeter different, a hundred different ways she and he could never have found themselves in this maintenance corridor together tonight.
"What is it?" Amieta asked.
"I can't believe we're here. Here doing this." Silver said honestly. "That's all. I can't believe you're real."
She took him by the shoulders, "Damn right, I'm real."
Her gaze searched his. "Damn right," she said again, more softly. "And so are you. 'Silver Night'."
It was hours later when they emerged back into the light of the station. Silver straightened his coat and took a tactful step upwind of Amieta's cigarette.
They both began to speak at the same time, "Well that was-" "It was good to-"
They both stumbled to an awkward silence at the same time too. Amieta broke it first, "I should probably go. My cover here's pretty thin. If they review the video ..."
"Oh, of course."
"It was good to-." She shrugged, "It was good. I'll see you again. Sometime."
Her hand on his cheek was cool, even through the glove. The light brush of a kiss on his opposite cheek, "Bye."
He thought he was going to say 'Bye' too, as she turned and walked away. But she was leaving, and her body was a map of a hundred ways she might never make it to 'sometime' alive.
And it was her
It had always been her.
Silver opened his mouth to say goodbye, and it came out, "Come work for me."
Amieta turned back to him, "What?"
He pressed on, "Work for me. Be my XO - second in command."
"I've never..."
"I don't care. It doesn't matter. The pay's good, you have command experience, and..." He shrugged.
"And?" Amieta studied him.
"We'd be together." Silver realized he was begging, or close to it. "Not like - like this. It wouldn't be safe. But if we were careful, discreet ..."
Amieta hesitated, "I'm a criminal."
"I know that's not everything you are."
"What if I'm no good at it?"
Silver recognized a last, token protest, saw the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth, and exhaled in relief. "We'll put you in charge of chair breaking."
She hesitated, then nodded, "Okay. Okay, I'll do it."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah." She searched for another cigarette, "Guess I'm starting right away, before security wants me for questioning. We should go."
Silver smiled, "Of course. Welcome to the crew, Commander."
"Commander Invelen, I like that. Thank you, Captain Night."
Friday
Pirate Stories II
YC??? (100 years ago. More or less.)
The sun beat down on the out-of-the-way cove, reddish sand fringed with a tangled, temperate jungle. Hilion was working shirtless and still pouring sweat. At 20, he had already given up hope of ever getting taller than his current 140cm. There was a mild, pleasant ache as he heaved up the next 40 kilo bale. He imagined he could feel the Cyberknight implants coil and uncoil alongside his muscles as he worked. The network of scars over his body were already fading, but a few were still fresh enough he could feel them pull as he tossed the bale to the dock.
All to get the old man political capital. When his father ran out of ways to buy influence directly, he'd started looking for indirect ways. Cyberknight offspring, smart move. But they're never gonna forget he just married into being a holder. It was always there, whenever Hilion went to one of their events. In the glances, in the comments murmured not quite quietly enough. Noone was ever going to see anything but a merchant, especially the old man when he looked in the mirror. Can't fault him for persistence though. Sure glad that leaving me flayed wouldn't have helped him feel more aristocratic.
Of course, Hilion figured maybe he owed the old man something, since it was his boats that were being used to move all the pikkan. He grabbed another bale and smiled.
Hilion had started small, but early: shop lifting expensive electronics when he was 11. Hit so many Holohuts, they've posted my picture in every damn one for 3 systems, he was bragging by thirteen - perhaps a slight exaggeration.
That was before he understood that bragging to the wrong people was a good way to get caught. Of course, when he was caught, his father would make it go away. He'd learned quick that rules were for other people, people who were happy with their boring lives, and he'd picked up plenty of useful skills along the way.
Hilion trotted down the gangway with the last bale and tossed it with the others, then approached the man receiving the shipment. The man's papers (which claimed he was a low level executive for a minor Lai Dai subsidiary) said his name was Verak Kenadenen. He finished tallying as Hilion stopped in front of him, and he smiled ever-so-slightly. "Everything seems to be in order, Narath. I've authorized payment, please verify that it has gone through."
Hilion checked on his com, saw the pleasantly hefty new amount resting in his numbered account with Intaki Bank. He squinted up at the taller Caldari with an easy grin, "Looks good, Verak. Nice doing business with you. This'll be the last for a while, storm season coming, eh?"
Verak nodded, swatting at the biting insects, "What're you going to do until the run opens up again?"
"Well..." Hilion shifted his weight and squinted out over the water, considering what to tell Verak. Truth was, without the southern trade, he was back to the risky, petty stuff for a while. Knocking over stores and hijacking transports and a bit of light extortion. "Ain't got solid plans. Lookin' into a few things."
"If there was something that was solid? Something that pays out, for someone like you?" The Caldari shielded his eyes against whipped up sand as a flyer juddered in just over the treetops, sky-green on it's bottom half, blotchy forest camo on it's top half. It landed with a dull thump and shuddered a moment, then the slaves and workers started loading bales into it's belly.
Hilion watched the work without really seeing it, considering, "Depends. I need to keep a low profile, so I can take the boats out next season for more 'fishing'."
"What if that wasn't an issue?"
Hilion glanced at Verak with alarm, "I'm not looking for anything that's gonna make me 'not an issue'."
"I mean, because you would be off-planet. As long as you wanted. I have some friends who are looking for people like you." 'Friends' meant the Cartel. Verak was a local lieutenant, dirtside, "They're looking for people who can operate on their own. Who have the knack."
"I got time to decide?"
"A couple weeks. Let me know, the usual channels." Verak jogged over to the flyer, which was spooling up for takeoff, fully loaded. He pulled himself into the cargo bay and yelled from the door, "Think about it!"
Hilion narrowed his eyes against the blowing sand and gave the Angel a wave as the flyer lifted off and wallowed away again, nearly scraping the uppermost branches of the trees.
Off-planet work.
Well, it did sound interesting.
Tuesday
Pirate Stories I
YC92
Hilion choked down the dregs of the wine and forced on his most ingratiating smile, "Well, why don't we go check the goods, eh? A'fore we get too much further from Heaven? So's we can still make changes if it ain't all ta yer likin'."
"Finally, a useful suggestion. I trust the wares will meet expectation, at least." Seghet's expression made it clear he doubted they would, "Perhaps be of passable quality, this time."
Hilion gritted his teeth and motioned for the slaver to precede him. "A' course, a' course honored Seghet."
He herded the slaver and his lackeys toward the Dramiel's hold. Seghet nearly tripped over the unfamiliar curves on the ladder down, his men propping him up with difficulty in the narrow space.
"Best be careful, eh? All kinda weird, Angel tech, if you ain't used to it. Got it from you-know-whos." Hilion bobbed his head in what he imagined was a wise way, as if he knew a Jovian from a fedo. Seghet frowned back at him, perhaps trying to sort out what Hilion had said, and almost tripped again. He dropped past several steps and almost crushed one of his unfortunate minions. Hilion felt his headache easing.
The cargo hold was longer than it was wide, with loading doors at the far end. The slaves were huddled in a near corner, chains attached to their right ankles. Already smelling and we've hardly started the trip. Hilion stayed near the entrance and picked bits of spices from the wine out from between his teeth as Seghet and his two overseers began getting slaves up with kicks and slaps to be examined.
The slaves were mostly selected for useful skills; that's what made them worth getting illegally. Doctors, engineers, programmers, skilled tradesmen and others. Seghet was examining a big Brutor, and Hilion checked the manifest. Grisart (last name unkown), accountant.
The chained accountant slapped away the slaver's probing hands, and after a moment of shock Seghet rounded on Hilion, chins wobbling in outrage, "Can't you even keep your stock in line, pirate? He lay hands on my person. Do something about it."
Hilion shrugged disinterestedly, "These're fresh caught, bound to be a bit fiesty. Little spirit's important in an accountant, eh? Make's sure the books is cooked right, don't it? Anyway, once we make delivery, you can discipline 'em however you want, friend Seghet."
Seghet's face went redder. Little less bein' smart, next time. Hilion opened his mouth to try and placate the man, but the slaver spun, a blade flashed, and suddenly blood was welling up all across the slave's throat. Seghet's mouth twisted in satisfaction, and he turned to Hilion, "Maybe you will learn to better contro-"
But behind Seghet, the chained man hadn't fallen. Instead he stumbled forward, and grabbed the slaver by his cheap robes. Seghet squawked in protest, but the slave half shoved, half threw him toward the other end of the hold. The man was obviously almost unconscious, and it wasn't much of a throw, but the slaver was almost round. Seghet landed with a meaty thwack and rolled like an angry soft-boiled egg until he was nearly at the rear cargo door. Hilion was impressed.
The slave fell heavily and was still: dead or dying.
Hilion gestured peremptorily to Seghet's bodyguards, "Dun just stand there, eh? Go see 'es alright."
As they hurried to their fallen boss, Hilion scuttled over, skidding to a halt between the slaves and the slavers. He glanced at the accountant: another slave - a doctor - was working to save the injured man. Probably hopeless. A shame.
He turned back and waited as the bodyguards reached the other end of the hold, wringing their hands and hovering around their boss. He refused their help and tried to roll to his feet himself, his legs pumping in impotent rage. Gonna be messy. Maybe expensive. Hilion considered for a second, then shrugged and pressed his thumb to a pad on the wall. All about respect, really. A panel slid aside to reveal a big, red button. Some people just don't got manners. He smacked the button.
A shimmering curtain appeared, sealing off the slavers near the cargo door from the rest of the hold. Hilion spoke into the intercom, "'ey, you can hear me over there?"
Seghet had managed to get to his feet, run into the shimmering barrier, bounce off like a flabby kendu ball, and then get to his feet again, yelling.
Puffing, sweating, and almost purple in the face, the slaver managed to find the intercom on his side, "What's -"
Hilion cut him off with the same friendly smile, "Well, see, that's the I-F-F-A." He enunciated each letter carefully, "Stands fer Internal Force Field Array. It's fer hull breaches and like that. Cause we're 'bout to have a malfunction, see. This ship, she's always malfunctioning aroun' impolite dick-heads what damage the merchandise, eh? Give the Void a kiss fer me."
Hilion disconnected the intercom as Seghet started shouting again. The bodyguards were firing at the field with no effect. The pirate captain waved cheerfully, headache entirely gone, and opened the cargo doors to the vacuum of space.
And the accountant? He survived, but that's another story.
Sunday
Syndicate Files: The Sister - Epilogue
And that was about it, really.
Haakinen took his package and his leave.
Siarente took Envelan up the umbilical to her ship.
Auvy took my hand and we went home.
I had the feeling that Sia wasn't going to find it as easy to get her sister back from the boosters as it had been to get her back from the Guristas, but it wasn't any of my business.
My fee arrived as promised, with a bonus 'for my trouble' that was itself double the sum agreed. So did a flat package wrapped in soft silver tissue and tied with the kind of elaborate bow that was clearly the product of someone's life-long practice. Rich people's shops had people like that, I knew, people who spent every working day making sure that the expensive things they sold were wrapped up in a way that made it clear just how expensive they were.
The package was addressed to Auvy, not to me. I didn't object to an excuse to see her again, so I took it over. When she pulled the ends of the bow the whole thing slithered open to reveal a pool of pale fabric the same color as shrip tea, a pale green promise of sweet refreshment, with a name discreetly stitched into the hem that made Auvy's eyes widen.
Straight from the Crystal Boulevard, with Siarente Ross's thanks for Auvy's help.
The money was an easy gesture, but the dress had taken at least a few moment's thought and effort. Seeing Auvy's smile when she saw it made me hope Siarente's faith in her sister wasn't misplaced, that Envelan would find something worth staying sober for, at least some days of the week.
And that I'd be lucky enough to never see either of them again.
Auvy, of course, had to try the dress on right away. She whisked away to the 'fresher, and I helped myself to a drink and took out my neocom to look again at the little twirling holo next to Sia's entry in my transaction list. Pretty girl, blue eyes, blonde hair.
She didn't look like trouble.
I sipped my whiskey and looked at the holo and thought about that, about podders who looked and acted like normal people, about the vast dark spaces between the stars where they lived as comfortably as I lived in my one room with its fold-down bed and fold-out table. About capsuleer ethics, about love and family and other lost causes that people would risk everything for before they gave up the faith.
I mighta got maudlin, but Auvy came back from the 'fresher, wearing her new dress.
Auvy did look like trouble, especially in that dress. Well, she is trouble.
But not the kind a smart man would want to avoid.
And not the kind a man would ever regret.
Haakinen took his package and his leave.
Siarente took Envelan up the umbilical to her ship.
Auvy took my hand and we went home.
I had the feeling that Sia wasn't going to find it as easy to get her sister back from the boosters as it had been to get her back from the Guristas, but it wasn't any of my business.
My fee arrived as promised, with a bonus 'for my trouble' that was itself double the sum agreed. So did a flat package wrapped in soft silver tissue and tied with the kind of elaborate bow that was clearly the product of someone's life-long practice. Rich people's shops had people like that, I knew, people who spent every working day making sure that the expensive things they sold were wrapped up in a way that made it clear just how expensive they were.
The package was addressed to Auvy, not to me. I didn't object to an excuse to see her again, so I took it over. When she pulled the ends of the bow the whole thing slithered open to reveal a pool of pale fabric the same color as shrip tea, a pale green promise of sweet refreshment, with a name discreetly stitched into the hem that made Auvy's eyes widen.
Straight from the Crystal Boulevard, with Siarente Ross's thanks for Auvy's help.
The money was an easy gesture, but the dress had taken at least a few moment's thought and effort. Seeing Auvy's smile when she saw it made me hope Siarente's faith in her sister wasn't misplaced, that Envelan would find something worth staying sober for, at least some days of the week.
And that I'd be lucky enough to never see either of them again.
Auvy, of course, had to try the dress on right away. She whisked away to the 'fresher, and I helped myself to a drink and took out my neocom to look again at the little twirling holo next to Sia's entry in my transaction list. Pretty girl, blue eyes, blonde hair.
She didn't look like trouble.
I sipped my whiskey and looked at the holo and thought about that, about podders who looked and acted like normal people, about the vast dark spaces between the stars where they lived as comfortably as I lived in my one room with its fold-down bed and fold-out table. About capsuleer ethics, about love and family and other lost causes that people would risk everything for before they gave up the faith.
I mighta got maudlin, but Auvy came back from the 'fresher, wearing her new dress.
Auvy did look like trouble, especially in that dress. Well, she is trouble.
But not the kind a smart man would want to avoid.
And not the kind a man would ever regret.
Syndicate Files: The Sister - Part 14
At a gesture from Haakinen, Envelan was yanked forward to stand in front of the desk, beside Sia's chair. Everyone seemed to have forgotten me and Auvy, which was just fine as far as I was concerned.
"I have a package I need moved," Haakinen said. "A small package. And a sensitive one."
Sia nodded, looking a little pale. "You want me to take it?"
"Through null-sec?" Envelan protested. "Sia, no. I- I've got the implants too. I'll do it. I can fly a shuttle."
Saying that seemed to scare her a lot more than the idea of being tossed out an airlock had a few seconds before.
Haakinen glanced from Envelan to Sia, "I had understood that your implants were... non-functional, Ms Envelan. Regardless, it doesn't matter to me who does it as long as it gets done. But whoever it is better be able to do it."
"I can," Sia said. "I have a good fit. Fast."
"A shuttle's fast," Envelan countered. "It's my mess."
"A shuttle?" Sia said. "In null-sec? Through gate camps and bubbles? No, Ani. Be sensible. I'm the pilot. Would you let me lead a boarding party instead of you?"
Envelan shook her head, jaw set, face white. "That's different. I don't want you tangled -" She snapped her mouth shut, then said "I don't want you here."
"Maybe it's different," Sia said. "And maybe you don't want me here. But I am. And I think I have a better chance of getting through. Don't you?" She reached out and put her hand over Envelan's. "It won't take long. I'll be right back, and ... we can talk then."
Envelan closed her eyes for a second, and then her expression hardened and she yanked her hand out from under Sia's. "My answer's not going to be any different then."
"Of course," Haakinen said, "if something should happen and the package is lost, some other way to pay the debt will need to be found. I will see that your sister and associates are well taken care of until you return, Ms Ross."
The threat was really just a formality, we all knew what'd happen if Sia didn't do the job. But then, Haakinen seemed like a formal kinda guy.
Sia glanced at him, and then looked back at Envelan. "Nothing will happen. And if anything happens to my sister while I'm away, M'ser ..." She paused. "They tell me I am likely to live a very long time."
Haakinen inclined his head. "We understand each other," he said. "The package will be waiting for you at the Intaki Commerce Trading Post station in DP34-U. And it is delicate, Captain Ross. Do not take too long."
Sia stood up and glanced at Envelan, who shot a startled glance at Sia exactly as if the pilot had spoken.
She had, I realized. Guess Sia isn't the only one in the room with an internal neocom.
The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then Envelen shrugged a little and nodded.
A flicker of hurt showed in Sia's eyes as she turned and left, face pale but head held high.
They offered Auvy and me seats once the grown-ups were done discussing business. Envelan took out a pack of cigarettes, and without asking Haakinen if he minded, lit one with the same combustible fingersnap she'd used before. Sitting there, feeling like I was facing a school exam except this time it was one I had to let someone else take for me, I almost wished I smoked. It seemed to keep Envelan calm, except for the fine tremor in those metal fingers holding the cigarette.
Her unfocused gaze fixed on the floor, she muttered something. Thinking she was trying to avoid Haakinen overhearing something, I leaned over and hissed, "What?"
She blinked and frowned, then hissed back in a rush, "Wasn't talking to you."
Right. Most people learn pretty quick to keep their internal neocom conversations, well, internal.
Mind, most people generally weren't the casein-grey color Envelan had gone, and most people wouldn't have been sweating that much in a pleasantly temperature-controlled room.
She drew on her cigarette again, the tremor gone to a shake, and muttered, "Use the cloak. Hit warp, cloak right away.Good. You're doing good. I'm not going anywhere. Just - " She clenched her jaw and bent forward, almost suppressing a groan.
I wasn't the only one who could recognize withdrawal.
"Something to make your wait more comfortable?" Haakinen asked. The corners of his mouth twitched up again, "On the house."
Envelan glanced at him. "Fuck...off." Her chattering teeth nipped the words into little pieces, but her expression was crystal clear. She bowed her head, eyes closed, and murmured "Just be careful. I'm here. You'll be okay."
Auvy and I waited, me at least trying to eavesdrop, until Envelan's whispered Thank the Ancestors and a blink on the display on Haakinen's desk both signaled Sia's safe arrival back at the station.
Envelan opened her eyes and went to draw on the cigarette that had burned itself to the filter between her fingers. She grimaced and flicked it away, tapping out another with hands shaking so badly it took her three tries to get the cigarette in her mouth.
"She says you can have your package when we're all at the hangar," Envelan said.
They hustled us down there, and there were a couple of tense moments with Sia and her guards on one side with Haakinen's package on a cargo-loader, and us on the other. Lots of people with guns and hard stares. I took Auvy's hand to make her feel better, or maybe to make me feel better. Envelan stared at the floor, shivering.
"The package first, please," Haakinen said.
Sia shook her head. "At the same time, I think."
He nodded slightly. Sia gave a signal and the trolley edged forward. The three of us started forward as well, dodging the trolley as we passed it.
Sia's guards closed around us and I breathed a sigh of relief, and realized how strange my life had gotten: surrounded by a podder's armed guards inside her hangar wasn't what most people thought of as safe.
She reached out to Envelan. Envelan, pale and sweating, kept her distance.
Sia let her hand drop to her side.
"I have a package I need moved," Haakinen said. "A small package. And a sensitive one."
Sia nodded, looking a little pale. "You want me to take it?"
"Through null-sec?" Envelan protested. "Sia, no. I- I've got the implants too. I'll do it. I can fly a shuttle."
Saying that seemed to scare her a lot more than the idea of being tossed out an airlock had a few seconds before.
Haakinen glanced from Envelan to Sia, "I had understood that your implants were... non-functional, Ms Envelan. Regardless, it doesn't matter to me who does it as long as it gets done. But whoever it is better be able to do it."
"I can," Sia said. "I have a good fit. Fast."
"A shuttle's fast," Envelan countered. "It's my mess."
"A shuttle?" Sia said. "In null-sec? Through gate camps and bubbles? No, Ani. Be sensible. I'm the pilot. Would you let me lead a boarding party instead of you?"
Envelan shook her head, jaw set, face white. "That's different. I don't want you tangled -" She snapped her mouth shut, then said "I don't want you here."
"Maybe it's different," Sia said. "And maybe you don't want me here. But I am. And I think I have a better chance of getting through. Don't you?" She reached out and put her hand over Envelan's. "It won't take long. I'll be right back, and ... we can talk then."
Envelan closed her eyes for a second, and then her expression hardened and she yanked her hand out from under Sia's. "My answer's not going to be any different then."
"Of course," Haakinen said, "if something should happen and the package is lost, some other way to pay the debt will need to be found. I will see that your sister and associates are well taken care of until you return, Ms Ross."
The threat was really just a formality, we all knew what'd happen if Sia didn't do the job. But then, Haakinen seemed like a formal kinda guy.
Sia glanced at him, and then looked back at Envelan. "Nothing will happen. And if anything happens to my sister while I'm away, M'ser ..." She paused. "They tell me I am likely to live a very long time."
Haakinen inclined his head. "We understand each other," he said. "The package will be waiting for you at the Intaki Commerce Trading Post station in DP34-U. And it is delicate, Captain Ross. Do not take too long."
Sia stood up and glanced at Envelan, who shot a startled glance at Sia exactly as if the pilot had spoken.
She had, I realized. Guess Sia isn't the only one in the room with an internal neocom.
The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then Envelen shrugged a little and nodded.
A flicker of hurt showed in Sia's eyes as she turned and left, face pale but head held high.
They offered Auvy and me seats once the grown-ups were done discussing business. Envelan took out a pack of cigarettes, and without asking Haakinen if he minded, lit one with the same combustible fingersnap she'd used before. Sitting there, feeling like I was facing a school exam except this time it was one I had to let someone else take for me, I almost wished I smoked. It seemed to keep Envelan calm, except for the fine tremor in those metal fingers holding the cigarette.
Her unfocused gaze fixed on the floor, she muttered something. Thinking she was trying to avoid Haakinen overhearing something, I leaned over and hissed, "What?"
She blinked and frowned, then hissed back in a rush, "Wasn't talking to you."
Right. Most people learn pretty quick to keep their internal neocom conversations, well, internal.
Mind, most people generally weren't the casein-grey color Envelan had gone, and most people wouldn't have been sweating that much in a pleasantly temperature-controlled room.
She drew on her cigarette again, the tremor gone to a shake, and muttered, "Use the cloak. Hit warp, cloak right away.Good. You're doing good. I'm not going anywhere. Just - " She clenched her jaw and bent forward, almost suppressing a groan.
I wasn't the only one who could recognize withdrawal.
"Something to make your wait more comfortable?" Haakinen asked. The corners of his mouth twitched up again, "On the house."
Envelan glanced at him. "Fuck...off." Her chattering teeth nipped the words into little pieces, but her expression was crystal clear. She bowed her head, eyes closed, and murmured "Just be careful. I'm here. You'll be okay."
Auvy and I waited, me at least trying to eavesdrop, until Envelan's whispered Thank the Ancestors and a blink on the display on Haakinen's desk both signaled Sia's safe arrival back at the station.
Envelan opened her eyes and went to draw on the cigarette that had burned itself to the filter between her fingers. She grimaced and flicked it away, tapping out another with hands shaking so badly it took her three tries to get the cigarette in her mouth.
"She says you can have your package when we're all at the hangar," Envelan said.
They hustled us down there, and there were a couple of tense moments with Sia and her guards on one side with Haakinen's package on a cargo-loader, and us on the other. Lots of people with guns and hard stares. I took Auvy's hand to make her feel better, or maybe to make me feel better. Envelan stared at the floor, shivering.
"The package first, please," Haakinen said.
Sia shook her head. "At the same time, I think."
He nodded slightly. Sia gave a signal and the trolley edged forward. The three of us started forward as well, dodging the trolley as we passed it.
Sia's guards closed around us and I breathed a sigh of relief, and realized how strange my life had gotten: surrounded by a podder's armed guards inside her hangar wasn't what most people thought of as safe.
She reached out to Envelan. Envelan, pale and sweating, kept her distance.
Sia let her hand drop to her side.
Syndicate Files: The Sister - Part 13
The room they herded us into was like a Caille socialite: a lot of time and money had been spent making it look like a picture out of a magazine, and the result was perfectly put together and perfectly empty of anything that even remotely resembled individuality or personality. At one end was a desk so bland it almost put me to sleep looking at it, and sitting behind it was a nondescript Caldari who looked like an accountant, if accountants really looked the way the directors of holos thought. His suit was in a style a couple years out of date, and it looked a little worn, but well cared for - it went well with the old-fashioned spectacles and the comb-over. He was flipping through an expense report as we were hustled into the middle of the room.
Varakin Haakinen, the most powerful Gurista on the station, didn't look up.
I exchanged a glance with Auvy, neither of us having to say aloud what we were both thinking. This doesn't look good.
Envelan caught the look. "This has nothing to do with you," she said. "Haakinen is a business man, no profit in hurting bystanders. This is my problem."
I couldn't quite share her faith in Haakinen's reasonableness.
I leaned closer to Envelan, "You're the Rabbit. What happens now?"
She shrugged. "We wait," she said. "Take our chance when it comes. I'll get you out of here, anyway." She was talking to me but looking at Sia as she spoke, and then frowned a little. "Sia?"
I turned. The pilot's face was pale, and she had the glassy-eyed expression of someone trying to decide whether throwing up or passing out was the better option.
"Do you think I might have some water?" she asked softly and very politely, and then folded up where she stood.
Envelan brushed me aside and caught Sia before she could hit the ground. All around us, hands went to guns. Envelan ignored them, and lowered Sia gently to the floor. The podder wasn't out, not quite, mumbling that she was okay, she'd missed breakfast, she was fine.
"Someone get a medic," Envelan ordered, exactly as if she was in charge, and the authority in her voice was enough to make a couple of our guards twitch reflexively.
Haakinen glanced up, and said mildly, "I appreciate your desire to stick to a winning tactic, but I think you'll find the staff here a little better trained than Inheras's."
"She's not faking," Envelan said. "She's not cut out for this sort of shit." When Haakinen's expression didn't change, she added almost pleadingly. "'At least let her have some water."
Haakinen considered, then nodded slightly. A flunky brought a glass of water, the guards watching closely as he set it down near Envelan and beat a hasty retreat. Envelan dipped one finger in it before she helped Sia sit up and held the glass for the pilot to sip.
"Expecting poison, Ms Envelan?" Haakinen with faint amusement.
"Not really," Envelan said. "But I'd kick myself if I turned out to be wrong."
Sia finished the water. A little color had come back to her cheeks and now she just looked tired, mostly.
"Just take it easy," Envelan told her, more gently than I would have believed she was capable of. "You'll be out of here in no time and the docs'll fix you up."
"I'm all right," Sia said. "It's just this vertigo, since they put the neocom in." She rubbed restlessly at the skin behind her ear and Envelan reached out to capture Sia's hand in her own. Sia blinked and started. "I'm all right, Ani, really." She squeezed Envelan's metal fingers with a weary little smile, and for a fraction of a second they looked like the sisters Sia kept insisting they were.
Then Envelan yanked her hand away and got back to her feet. She turned to face Haakinen, who'd been watching the two of them with alert interest. "Look," Envelan said. "I know you and me have got some things to sort out. But the others, they have nothing to do with this."
"But I think they have a great deal to do with this," Haakinen said mildly. He touched a button on that bland desk and a holo-display spray to life above his head: Sia in the Colonel's HQ, at the poker table, me in the background, Inheras pushing a stack of chips into the middle of the table. Haakinen steepled his fingers. "Inheras is quite ... resentful at losing so much money to a cardsharp. And I tend to agree we should discourage people with the idea of cheating our organisation."
"I didn't cheat," Sia said from the floor. She tried to get her feet under her to stand. When no-one else moved, I took her arm to help her. She swayed a little and then steadied. "Not M'ser Inheras, anyway."
"You just happen to be that good a poker player?" Haakinen said with polite disbelief.
Sia smiled, sweet and guileless as if she'd never ripped open a battleship's hull and sent thousands to their deaths. "I'm quite good at mathematics," she said, and let go of my arm to run her fingers through her hair. The honey-colored curls bunched between her fingers, revealing the pale column of her neck - and the glittering jeweled caps over her podder plugs.
There was a little silence in the room, as if everybody was simultaneously taking a quiet, careful breath. Haakinen looked at Sia with an expression as neutral as the dull blank case around a racing warp-core. "I see."
Sia let her hair fall back over her shoulders. It shifted and rustled as she shrugged slightly. "And besides," she said, "He should have paid as much attention to my cards as he did to my cleavage." She blushed a little as she said it, like a schoolgirl pronouncing a dirty word or a Kaalakiota accountant announcing less than seven percent ROI.
Haakinen looked at her gravely. "I'll pass on your advice," he promised, and gestured to a flunky. "Bring Captain - ?"
"Ross," Sia supplied.
"Bring Captain Ross a chair."
The chair was set on the other side of the desk to him. Sia settled herself in it, calm as cooled casein, if you couldn't see the rapid flutter of the pulse in her neck. She had to know what Haakinen did, what everyone else in the room knew now: a pod pilot wasn't an inconvenience or a future 'example'. In Haakinen's ledger, Sia Ross had just gone from a silly little rich girl out of her depth to someone who could easily have brought a small army to avenge Inheras's efforts to get his own back.
I wished she had, right about then. Even on short acquaintance though, I could tell: that wasn't the sort of thing that would occur to Siarente Ross.
Haakinen's expression hadn't changed, but there was a tension in the air as the silence stretched on. You didn't make an example of a podder, but you might make them and everyone who'd seen them near you disappear to protect yourself. For a moment it seemed likely that Haakinen would solve his problems the old-fashioned way: by tossing it out an airlock. I wasn't the only one who it occurred to, I glanced at Envelan and saw the thin blue lines of nano-tatts creeping up her neck. War paint. She was as tense - more tense than I was, like an anti-matter charge in the breech, just waiting to explode into self-annihilating destruction.
Then Haakinen sighed, "Inheras can sometimes let his temper override his better judgement. I will see to it he apologizes, and I trust we can leave this unfortunate lapse of his behind us." He gestured to Auvy and me, "Can your associates see you to where you would like to be, or would you like an escort?"
It was clearly a dismissal, and just as clearly, Envelan wasn't included.
Sia paused. "I'm sure that my three friends can see me safely home."
"I'm afraid we have a misunderstanding," Haakinen said. "Ms Envelan's betrayed the trust we placed in her, Ms Ross. She killed several of my employees - her colleagues. I'm sure that you understand that I can't let something like that go."
"Mmm," Sia said. "I'm afraid we do have a misunderstanding. I can't leave without Ani."
"You can," Envelan said. "And you will."
"You'll have to leave without Ms Envelan," Haakinen said. "Or not leave at all." The threat was unmistakable. The risk benefit analysis had clearly changed.
"Get the fuck out, Sia," Envelan said. "I told you: I don't want you here."
Sia flinched a little at the harsh note in Envelan's voice, but her gaze stayed steady on Haakinen. "I can't leave without her."
"Why not?" Haakinen asked. "What is she to you?"
"She's - "
Envelan cut her off. "No-one. I'm no-one. So kick the podder out and she'll forget all about this. Won't you."
Haakinen narrowed his eyes, and remarked to no-one in particular "I do hate taking risks I don't understand."
He flicked a finger and one of the guards stepped forward, drawing her gun in the same smooth motion. Sia's yelp of surprise was barely audible beneath Envelan's snarl as the guard grabbed Sia by one arm and pressed the muzzle of the gun to her cheek.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" Envelan lunged, nanotatts flooding over her face, eyes wide and teeth bared, but the guards were ready for her. Sia screamed and kept screaming, shrill as a boiling kettle, as Envelan went down, five of them holding her, face to the floor, prosthetic arms twisted up behind her back past the point my arms would have broken, and still struggling.
"'No-one', I see," Haakinen said. "Hardly seems so."
"Don't hurt her!" Sia was crying, words barely intelligible through her sobs, not pretty tears calculated for effect but the brink of hysteria. "Please, please, don't hurt her, please!"
Haakinen looked from one to the other. "That is really up to her, Captain Ross. One more time, Ms Envelan. How do you know Captain Ross? Why did you kill your own colleagues to protect her?"
Envelan hesitated, and the guard by Sia pushed the gun harder against her face, the pressure of the muzzle turning the skin white.
"My sister." Envelan's tone was tinged with defeat, "She's my sister."
I saw the glances pass between the guards holding her down. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to me that their grips eased a bit, too.
Caldari put a lot of stock in family. And the Guristas might have plenty of Caldari who don't quite fit in to the State, but they were Caldari, all the same.
"Well," Haakinen said. "Why didn't you say so?"
He flicked a finger and the guards holding Envelan hauled her to her feet, while the one holding the gun to Sia's head holstered her weapon and stepped back. Sia scrubbed at her tear-stained cheeks with her hands and took a step towards her sister, then stopped as Envelan moved just exactly that much away.
"It doesn't change anything," Envelan said. "She's got nothing to do with it. Send her back to her hangar."
Haakinen looked like he might be balancing accounts for all the expression he showed. "Nice try, Ms Envelan. Let loose a pod pilot with a blood feud?"
"It not for her the way it is for us," Envelen said urgently. "You can let her go - she won't hold a grudge."
"Is that true, Captain Ross? Family doesn't mean to you what it would to a Caldari?"
Sia took a shaking breath and found some reserves of composure from somewhere. "I don't know," she said. "I suppose we can't ever know exactly what's in someone else's head, can we? Maybe it is different for me. All I can tell you is, I won't leave here without my sister. I can't."
Envelan closed her eyes. "Sia ..."
Haakinen studied Sia for a moment, then Envelan. "Inheras seems to be making all sorts of errors of judgement lately." Suddenly, I wouldn't have given a bent half-syn for Inheras's career prospects. "Well, we have a problem. Ms Envelan's actions may have been inevitable, given Inheras's misunderstanding of the situation, but there is still a debt to be paid."
Envelan nodded. "Let my sister go. I'll pay what needs to be paid."
"I don't think you should be giving orders." A twitch at the corners of Haakinen's mouth, "And I don't think you'll be able to make the kind of payment I have in mind."
Varakin Haakinen, the most powerful Gurista on the station, didn't look up.
I exchanged a glance with Auvy, neither of us having to say aloud what we were both thinking. This doesn't look good.
Envelan caught the look. "This has nothing to do with you," she said. "Haakinen is a business man, no profit in hurting bystanders. This is my problem."
I couldn't quite share her faith in Haakinen's reasonableness.
I leaned closer to Envelan, "You're the Rabbit. What happens now?"
She shrugged. "We wait," she said. "Take our chance when it comes. I'll get you out of here, anyway." She was talking to me but looking at Sia as she spoke, and then frowned a little. "Sia?"
I turned. The pilot's face was pale, and she had the glassy-eyed expression of someone trying to decide whether throwing up or passing out was the better option.
"Do you think I might have some water?" she asked softly and very politely, and then folded up where she stood.
Envelan brushed me aside and caught Sia before she could hit the ground. All around us, hands went to guns. Envelan ignored them, and lowered Sia gently to the floor. The podder wasn't out, not quite, mumbling that she was okay, she'd missed breakfast, she was fine.
"Someone get a medic," Envelan ordered, exactly as if she was in charge, and the authority in her voice was enough to make a couple of our guards twitch reflexively.
Haakinen glanced up, and said mildly, "I appreciate your desire to stick to a winning tactic, but I think you'll find the staff here a little better trained than Inheras's."
"She's not faking," Envelan said. "She's not cut out for this sort of shit." When Haakinen's expression didn't change, she added almost pleadingly. "'At least let her have some water."
Haakinen considered, then nodded slightly. A flunky brought a glass of water, the guards watching closely as he set it down near Envelan and beat a hasty retreat. Envelan dipped one finger in it before she helped Sia sit up and held the glass for the pilot to sip.
"Expecting poison, Ms Envelan?" Haakinen with faint amusement.
"Not really," Envelan said. "But I'd kick myself if I turned out to be wrong."
Sia finished the water. A little color had come back to her cheeks and now she just looked tired, mostly.
"Just take it easy," Envelan told her, more gently than I would have believed she was capable of. "You'll be out of here in no time and the docs'll fix you up."
"I'm all right," Sia said. "It's just this vertigo, since they put the neocom in." She rubbed restlessly at the skin behind her ear and Envelan reached out to capture Sia's hand in her own. Sia blinked and started. "I'm all right, Ani, really." She squeezed Envelan's metal fingers with a weary little smile, and for a fraction of a second they looked like the sisters Sia kept insisting they were.
Then Envelan yanked her hand away and got back to her feet. She turned to face Haakinen, who'd been watching the two of them with alert interest. "Look," Envelan said. "I know you and me have got some things to sort out. But the others, they have nothing to do with this."
"But I think they have a great deal to do with this," Haakinen said mildly. He touched a button on that bland desk and a holo-display spray to life above his head: Sia in the Colonel's HQ, at the poker table, me in the background, Inheras pushing a stack of chips into the middle of the table. Haakinen steepled his fingers. "Inheras is quite ... resentful at losing so much money to a cardsharp. And I tend to agree we should discourage people with the idea of cheating our organisation."
"I didn't cheat," Sia said from the floor. She tried to get her feet under her to stand. When no-one else moved, I took her arm to help her. She swayed a little and then steadied. "Not M'ser Inheras, anyway."
"You just happen to be that good a poker player?" Haakinen said with polite disbelief.
Sia smiled, sweet and guileless as if she'd never ripped open a battleship's hull and sent thousands to their deaths. "I'm quite good at mathematics," she said, and let go of my arm to run her fingers through her hair. The honey-colored curls bunched between her fingers, revealing the pale column of her neck - and the glittering jeweled caps over her podder plugs.
There was a little silence in the room, as if everybody was simultaneously taking a quiet, careful breath. Haakinen looked at Sia with an expression as neutral as the dull blank case around a racing warp-core. "I see."
Sia let her hair fall back over her shoulders. It shifted and rustled as she shrugged slightly. "And besides," she said, "He should have paid as much attention to my cards as he did to my cleavage." She blushed a little as she said it, like a schoolgirl pronouncing a dirty word or a Kaalakiota accountant announcing less than seven percent ROI.
Haakinen looked at her gravely. "I'll pass on your advice," he promised, and gestured to a flunky. "Bring Captain - ?"
"Ross," Sia supplied.
"Bring Captain Ross a chair."
The chair was set on the other side of the desk to him. Sia settled herself in it, calm as cooled casein, if you couldn't see the rapid flutter of the pulse in her neck. She had to know what Haakinen did, what everyone else in the room knew now: a pod pilot wasn't an inconvenience or a future 'example'. In Haakinen's ledger, Sia Ross had just gone from a silly little rich girl out of her depth to someone who could easily have brought a small army to avenge Inheras's efforts to get his own back.
I wished she had, right about then. Even on short acquaintance though, I could tell: that wasn't the sort of thing that would occur to Siarente Ross.
Haakinen's expression hadn't changed, but there was a tension in the air as the silence stretched on. You didn't make an example of a podder, but you might make them and everyone who'd seen them near you disappear to protect yourself. For a moment it seemed likely that Haakinen would solve his problems the old-fashioned way: by tossing it out an airlock. I wasn't the only one who it occurred to, I glanced at Envelan and saw the thin blue lines of nano-tatts creeping up her neck. War paint. She was as tense - more tense than I was, like an anti-matter charge in the breech, just waiting to explode into self-annihilating destruction.
Then Haakinen sighed, "Inheras can sometimes let his temper override his better judgement. I will see to it he apologizes, and I trust we can leave this unfortunate lapse of his behind us." He gestured to Auvy and me, "Can your associates see you to where you would like to be, or would you like an escort?"
It was clearly a dismissal, and just as clearly, Envelan wasn't included.
Sia paused. "I'm sure that my three friends can see me safely home."
"I'm afraid we have a misunderstanding," Haakinen said. "Ms Envelan's betrayed the trust we placed in her, Ms Ross. She killed several of my employees - her colleagues. I'm sure that you understand that I can't let something like that go."
"Mmm," Sia said. "I'm afraid we do have a misunderstanding. I can't leave without Ani."
"You can," Envelan said. "And you will."
"You'll have to leave without Ms Envelan," Haakinen said. "Or not leave at all." The threat was unmistakable. The risk benefit analysis had clearly changed.
"Get the fuck out, Sia," Envelan said. "I told you: I don't want you here."
Sia flinched a little at the harsh note in Envelan's voice, but her gaze stayed steady on Haakinen. "I can't leave without her."
"Why not?" Haakinen asked. "What is she to you?"
"She's - "
Envelan cut her off. "No-one. I'm no-one. So kick the podder out and she'll forget all about this. Won't you."
Haakinen narrowed his eyes, and remarked to no-one in particular "I do hate taking risks I don't understand."
He flicked a finger and one of the guards stepped forward, drawing her gun in the same smooth motion. Sia's yelp of surprise was barely audible beneath Envelan's snarl as the guard grabbed Sia by one arm and pressed the muzzle of the gun to her cheek.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" Envelan lunged, nanotatts flooding over her face, eyes wide and teeth bared, but the guards were ready for her. Sia screamed and kept screaming, shrill as a boiling kettle, as Envelan went down, five of them holding her, face to the floor, prosthetic arms twisted up behind her back past the point my arms would have broken, and still struggling.
"'No-one', I see," Haakinen said. "Hardly seems so."
"Don't hurt her!" Sia was crying, words barely intelligible through her sobs, not pretty tears calculated for effect but the brink of hysteria. "Please, please, don't hurt her, please!"
Haakinen looked from one to the other. "That is really up to her, Captain Ross. One more time, Ms Envelan. How do you know Captain Ross? Why did you kill your own colleagues to protect her?"
Envelan hesitated, and the guard by Sia pushed the gun harder against her face, the pressure of the muzzle turning the skin white.
"My sister." Envelan's tone was tinged with defeat, "She's my sister."
I saw the glances pass between the guards holding her down. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to me that their grips eased a bit, too.
Caldari put a lot of stock in family. And the Guristas might have plenty of Caldari who don't quite fit in to the State, but they were Caldari, all the same.
"Well," Haakinen said. "Why didn't you say so?"
He flicked a finger and the guards holding Envelan hauled her to her feet, while the one holding the gun to Sia's head holstered her weapon and stepped back. Sia scrubbed at her tear-stained cheeks with her hands and took a step towards her sister, then stopped as Envelan moved just exactly that much away.
"It doesn't change anything," Envelan said. "She's got nothing to do with it. Send her back to her hangar."
Haakinen looked like he might be balancing accounts for all the expression he showed. "Nice try, Ms Envelan. Let loose a pod pilot with a blood feud?"
"It not for her the way it is for us," Envelen said urgently. "You can let her go - she won't hold a grudge."
"Is that true, Captain Ross? Family doesn't mean to you what it would to a Caldari?"
Sia took a shaking breath and found some reserves of composure from somewhere. "I don't know," she said. "I suppose we can't ever know exactly what's in someone else's head, can we? Maybe it is different for me. All I can tell you is, I won't leave here without my sister. I can't."
Envelan closed her eyes. "Sia ..."
Haakinen studied Sia for a moment, then Envelan. "Inheras seems to be making all sorts of errors of judgement lately." Suddenly, I wouldn't have given a bent half-syn for Inheras's career prospects. "Well, we have a problem. Ms Envelan's actions may have been inevitable, given Inheras's misunderstanding of the situation, but there is still a debt to be paid."
Envelan nodded. "Let my sister go. I'll pay what needs to be paid."
"I don't think you should be giving orders." A twitch at the corners of Haakinen's mouth, "And I don't think you'll be able to make the kind of payment I have in mind."
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