Saturday, 18 March 2017

Signal Sources Part 1


Chapter One


It's funny how things happen, she always worried about me getting lost out in the black. I never would have thought it would happen on the way home. But I'm getting ahead of myself, this story starts a little bit before that. I was scavving some interviews at a post race party, hoping to write up something sell-able while I chased down my 'magnum opus'. I'm an idiot.


More than a few recognizable names had shown up to this one, I'd had my eyes peeled for any chance to get close to anyone. Anything really solid, or with a worthwhile name had been elusive when I found my score. Captain Wald and his entourage were just sitting at a table out in the open, his wing-man had given me something passable so I moved in for the real scoop. I had readied my software and started to walk over to them when I noticed the troupe of Kumo Crew making moves. I realigned with the bathrooms and picked up the pace.


I missed my chance for a scoop but kept my life. By the look of the aftermath, a small battle had gone down. I just counted my lucky stars that my lift hadn't bailed on me at the first sign of trouble. I suppose Commander Lexx would have considered himself lucky the pirates left the bar's supplies for the taking.


“At least you have your honor.” I'd told Lexx when I found him loading stolen canisters onto his ship.


“Are you going to judge me, or help?” He'd shot back, exasperated.


I asked him if I could do both, he called me a hypocrite. The pair of us made a team to die for. I managed to convince him to haul that booze straight to Shinrarta Dezhra, fewer delays. Lexx started sending messages from his P.A.D. before touchdown, looking for a fence for his spoils.


I stepped off Lexx' Cobra into a sullen docking ring. At first I thought that it must be local downtime, then I figured I'd just built up Jameson Memorial in my mind or something.


Then I stepped into the puddle. There were two reasons for a wet docking ring, and I didn't see any evidence of fire.


I looked down at the liquid surrounding the soles of my feet, then I looked up at the nearest terminal building. Shuttered windows, locked doors. I spotted a few scorch marks dotting a nearby wall, laser-blasts.


Maybe a day before we got there, maybe less. This Star-port had suffered a riot, I know what to look for. I'd missed my chance, I knew that as well. An adrenaline spike got me jogging towards the terminal. Even then I knew it was a waste of energy, but it felt good to ride the wave of panic.


There was nobody there, an automated kiosk had been rolled out and chained down. I fingered the screen sullenly. The readout told me all about the riots, without giving me a shred. So late to the party I couldn't even do a piece about the lock-down, that was over too.


In desperation I checked the traffic logs. As expected, the outgoing list was the longer one. I looked around to double check the place was a ghost dock, waste of time. I unlocked the kiosk's security settings. One day I will find one of these things where the pass-codes aren't still on default, one day.


That's how I got my list. There's eighty-nine names on this thing. I shook my head as I scrolled through it, thinking about how many man hours there could be per name. I was too late, that little stop for that post-race write up cost me everything. I didn't even get the chance to publish the fucker. That's what I was thinking at the time, I'm an idiot.


I was walking away from the helpful little box of circuits when I was stopped dead by finding three names grouped together on my list: Wald, Revenant, and most fascinatingly Eidolon. I circled each of them.


The middle one was just annoying, the alias of the one semi-solid interview I'd managed after that waste of time race. If I'd known he had just come from the Founders System, I could have put some really juicy questions to that Altairian. Captain Wald was on the same team in the race, but they'd been docked side-by-side for weeks before, so it would seem. My mind was exploding with questions I should have asked, you usually don't get to see how badly you miss this kind of opportunity. It was torture. I pulled a cigarette out of my pack and started trying to light it, the battery on my lighter was almost dead.


But Commander Eidolon had parked alongside the pair of them, for some reason. There was a nebulous thread connecting B. Wald and Eidolon, few knew both stories, fewer knew of this thread. I knew about it, I was there. Something put that fat yokel right between the interview of a lifetime and my personal unsung hero. But I'm an idiot, so I didn't ask one question about any of it when I had the chance. I shouted some obscenities into the deserted docking ring and gave up on my smoke. I finalized my expletives by throwing my lighter, it drew either an arc or a straight line depending on your perspective.


“Sounds like both of our luck is just bloody grand.” Lexx quipped from across the docking pad.


“She was here Lexx!” He'd convinced me to stop for that race, he wanted to watch it.


“Well, at least you got that-” I shouted over him as I reached his Cobra.


“So were they!” To his credit, Commander Lexx did look momentarily embarrassed.


“Race was cool though.” Lexx shrugged at me.


These days I can get where Lexx was coming from, he really didn't understand what I was doing. I'm fairly certain he was just trying to be realistic and stay on the bright side. At the time, I called him an ass-hole and asked if he learned how to interact with other people by watching Holo-Shows. But that was ostensibly a long time ago, and I am making an endeavor not to disparage the dead.


Lexx eventually cut our argument short by offering me a ride home. I accepted that offer. His phrasing was quite choice, I wouldn't have expected that kind of eloquence from him. Even though we had been working together for almost a year by then.


“There are loads of things I want to say to you right now Pete, but I'm going to do the right thing and ask if you need a lift back home. Because I can see that you do and that no-body's here to do it.” Lexx was a good Commander, he only charged me base rates. Even then.
Chapter Two


He hadn't asked me to get into Cryo for months, I was insulted at the time. I'm an idiot. I climbed into the pod and made a vain effort to get comfortable. Commander Lexx reached for the keypad on the side of the pod but hesitated.


“We can talk again when we get to Korwei.” He sighed.


“I apologize in advance if I'm still a little raw about it.” I tried a joke, it didn't land.


He closed the pod on me, then it opened again. We were landed, the lights in the cargo bay had gotten less yellow for some reason. I staggered out of the pod, maybe half a G. Too much for a docking ring, where had he set down?


“Are you okay?” A girl asked me.


I turned to face her, she was wearing a jet black flight-suit with some blue stripes on the arms and legs. She had her visor down with a hooded sweater on over top, and a harness belt over that. The porthole behind her caught my attention, drifting void.


I looked down at where my feet held fast to the floor and then again over her shoulder and muttered about space.


“Your pod was drifting, I just picked you up.” She held her hands out in front of her in a gesture of calming. “I only popped your lid because there isn't a Gal-cop transponder on your pod.”


“Oh that's fine then.” I decided I was dreaming, I was born planet-side so there's always gravity in my dreams. She tilted her head at me.


“Are you alright?” This time she asked a little more pointedly.


“Wait a minute, you don't dream in Cryo-sleep.” My heart began to beat faster. “Oh no something went wrong, Lexx needs to unfreeze me.”


“Who? No, I... You are unfrozen.” I almost definitely blubbered when she told me this, I think she gestured a little at me. I had started to listen to her and freak out. The girl eventually sputtered “You're safe now.”


I tried to move backwards but forgot to walk, I just pushed a little and went limp. I collapsed onto the ground and started to hyperventilate a little bit. I could still see space spinning slowly through that porthole behind her, but I was stuck hard to the floor. There was only something wrong with the Cryo-pod, I was just dying of hypoxia, probably.


The girl knelt down beside me and lightly patted my shoulder, I'm not sure how long it took for me to calm down.


“This is happening?” I eventually managed to ask. She stopped patting my shoulder immediately.


“I'm uhm, afraid it is.” She stood up and offered her hand to me. I took it. “Uhmm... I'm sorry?” She tried to console me awkwardly.


“What happened?” Information was what I needed, not consolations.


“I... Uhmm...” She stammered. “Th-there's some debris around here, and a few cases of vintage liquor. The field is really sparse though, I'd wager whatever happened did so a long time... Ago.” She looked back to me as she finished speaking, realizing the ramifications of her words.


“How long?” I asked in a desperate tone.


“At least fifteen years.” At least she just told it to me straight. “Gal-cop got their transponders standardized fifteen years ago, and you didn't have one.”


We stood there in silence for a moment, both of us considering the inaccuracy of that time-line. We both asked about dates at the same time.


“You first.” I think she thought she was being polite.


“Thirty-Three Oh-Two?” Her posture changed when I said it. She brought her hand to her face reflexively.


“Y-you... You've... I-I'm sorry, It's Thirty-Three Twenty-Nine.” She whispered at me.


“Thirty-Three Thirty. For almost an hour now.” Someone corrected over the intercom.


I threw up, I hadn't eaten anything in twenty-eight years but that didn't stop me. The girl took a step back from me and covered the part of her visor where her mouth was again.


“Was he ill when he was frozen?” The voice from the intercom asked urgently.


“Were-” I cut her off as she repeated the question.


“No, no.” I gritted my teeth and swallowed. “It's just- I'm just-” I threw up a little more.


“He's just scared Torr. It's okay.” She announced.


“I am unconvinced, Ms. Valence.” The voice replied.


I sat on the floor for a little while and tried to pull myself together, the girl just watched me awkwardly. Eventually the voice from the intercom, Torr apparently, broke the silence.


“Do you feel well enough to tell us your name?” They asked in an uninterested tone.


“Pete Kenji, Free- Um... Just Pete Kenji. I guess.” I muttered back.


“What did you do, Pete Kenji?” Torr asked me with the same dry tone.


“I was a writer, trying to be a writer.” He didn't sound like he cared, I guess he was trying to get me talking for my sake.


“What did you write?” The girl asked me.


“Articles, for magazines. Trying for Galnet, never got one.” She looked just a little disappointed.


“Pete Kenji, it sounds like your career is not as set back as you think.” Torr announced.


I gaped around, not sure where to look to find him, the girl gripped her hands together suddenly and gasped.


“Shit Torr, now is not the time for jokes. Maybe tone it down a little, okay?” She said quickly.


“Yes Ms. Valence.” Torr announced over the intercom.


“Fuck me, no apology eh? You sound really nice Mister Torr.” I mumbled to myself.


“I am sorry, Pete Kenji.” Torr spat back sarcastically, I suppose he heard me.


I didn't want to push it so I said nothing, but I let my disdain show on my face. The girl, Ms. Valence, looked at me for a minute and shrugged.


“Come on, you want to sit in the co-pilot's seat?” She gestured as she asked.
“Yeah, but where will your co-pilot sit?” I wondered if maybe she was the co-pilot.


“Torr is my A.I.” She said as we walked into the cockpit of the Cobra.


“What the fuck, is that allowed?” I exclaimed.


“Ha!” Torr shot out. “When he was last awake, A.I. technology would have only been found amongst ancient forgotten wreckage.” Ms. Valence put her hand in the pockets on the front of her sweater and tapped her right toes on the floor a few times.


“That actually is pretty funny.” I agreed. I wasn't laughing but it had the genetics of a solid joke in there. The girl continued tapping her foot.


“I have downgraded my humor setting Ms. Valence.” Torr declared, she stopped tapping her foot.


She sat down on the left side and gestured towards what I'd thought was the pilot's chair. I sat down and stared out of the canopy.


“I'll take you to the nearest Star-port, it shouldn't take long.” She snapped her fingers and the ship selected a target.


The H.U.D. highlighted Home, it was only a few Hundred-Thousand light seconds away. She slipped us into super-cruise and began the journey towards Wingqvist Enterprise.


“I'm in Korwei?!” I sputtered.


“Were you headed here?” She asked.


“Yeah.” I mumbled back.


“What were you, uhm going to do in Korwei, Mister Kenji?” The girl asked me.


“I was going home.” Nearly a whisper.


“O-oh my goodness, were... Are there...” Her robot took over for her.


“Do you have family in Korwei, or somewhere we should take you, Pete Kenji?” Torr asked.


“I'm not sure if she- No!” I almost forgot about our plan. “Can we go to Bernoulli instead?” I added.


“Where?” Ms. Valence sounded confused.


“Instead of Wingqvist.” Don't ask me why.


“I'm not sure where-” She looked surprised when the robot cut her off.


“Bernoulli Gateway, in Korwei, Orbis Star-port, specializing in agricultural production and trade?” Torr asked me, with a tinge of urgency maybe.


“Of course, how many Bernoulli Gateways are there?” My question was delivered incredulously.


“Three.” The robot's answer was delivered coldly. “We cannot go to Bernoulli Gateway, Pete Kenji. You may wish to wait before asking why.”


The girl beside me fought a sob. She tried to hide it. She looked over to me for a moment then back through the canopy.


“Pete I'm-” She started to say something quietly.


“Ms. Valence...” The robot seemed to disagree.


“He should know.” She looked at me. “I wish I didn't have to tell you this... I mean I wish it wasn't true; your home, Bernoulli Gateway it-” This time I cut her off.


“I'm from Hartsfield Landing, and lived there.” I pointed at the mark on her HUD. She shuddered visibly with relief. “Something happened to Bernoulli?”


“It was destroyed during The War.” Torr announced.


“Wha... Wait, The war?” Robots can imply things, apparently.


“We should have waited. Korwei was hit hard during the Internecine Federal Conflict. Bernoulli Gateway was fired upon by capital vessels in three instances.” Maybe his monotone was trying to soften the blow, I'm not sure.


“Three times?” Never during my lifetime, nor during my fathers. Well, only once if you believed the crackpots.


“The INV Reliquias Lupum opened fire on the FNV Formidable at Thirteen-Oh-Nine GMT, December Twenty-First, Thirty-Three-Oh-Seven. The Federal vessel did not survive. The damage done to the Star-port was declared the result of a gross overestimation of the integrity of the Farragut. Six years later Bernoulli Gateway was scuttled at the behest of the Korwei Co-operative. The final salvo was delivered by the APS Bethia.” The robot was fantastic at answering questions. The untrustworthy bag of bolts didn't give me the whole thing though.


“You said three times Torr.” I turned to the girl, she was sitting on her legs in the pilot's chair. Facing me over the armrest. “He said three, right?”


“We should wait.” From sarcasm to oppressive tactfulness, I needed to ask a robot some questions. Or rather, ask someone who knew how to take one apart a few questions.


“Who else shot Bernoulli Gateway?” I was still looking at the girl when I asked, she curled into her chair a little.


“The FNV Formidable opened fire on Bernoulli Gateway at Thirteen-Oh-Seven GMT, December Twenty-First, Thirty-Three-Oh-Seven, prompting the INV Reliquias Lupum to open fire on the FNV Formidable.” Torr spoke slowly, carefully. Maybe those crackpots had been onto something.


“What the fuck?” I started patting my pockets. “Oh what, the fuck? Look, sorry I need a smoke, I don't give a crap if you get mad.” I found my pack of smokes and carefully selected one of the hand rolled ones.


“Th-that's okay Mister Kenji, I-I understand.” She nodded at me.


“Thanks I- Oh gods damn it!” I remembered where my lighter was and started glaring at my smoke.


“Oh, uhmm you need a light? Hang on.” She opened a little pouch on her harness strap and produced a match. She handed it to me.


I thanked her and struck it against the dashboard in front of me.


“Yeowch!” Torr yelped when I struck the match. I chuckled then lit the smoke, took a long toke to collect my thoughts.


“Well my life was just ripped away from me and it sounds like the future is post-apocalyptic, but Cobras have artificial gravity and there are wisecracking robots.” I took another toke. “I guess I could get used to this.” It wasn't right, but I savored the other Star-port being the one this time. In a truly fair Galaxy, it would have been neither of us. Instead I tried to take some solace in the fairness of it being both.


“You have to.” Torr declared. After an aching pause he added “That was a joke.”


“You fooled me.” After a third pull I offered the girl the joint absentmindedly.


She thanked me as she took it. She pulled the hood down and then brought her hand to her face. Her visor folded away over the top of her head and curled behind her neck. Her hair was dirty blonde and tied in a ponytail, she had it tucked down the back of her collar. Several strands fell in front of her narrow eyes, which were gray. She pursed her thin lips, then smiled a little.


“It's pronounced Robot.” She took a hit from my joint. “Is this Onionhead?” She now had a small frown on her lips.


“Yeah, straight outta Tanmark.” She started coughing and handed it back.


“You fooled me.” She spluttered out between gasps.


“Ms. Valence I am not pleased with this course of action. You are coughing.” Torr said.


“I'm fine Torr-” She coughed a little more. “That's just some awful thirty-” She fought another fit. “-Year old freeze-dried bush-weed.”


“You have any better?” I was fine with not sharing.


“Yes, but my guy is station-side.” A final cough, then a silence. “Lonely-digging payed off this time I guess.” She eventually added in a sullen tone.


“Pardon me?” I wasn't familiar with her slang.


“Trawling for salvage when I ought to be doing something less...” She trailed off, embarrassed.


“Less lonely?” I shot her a little smile. “I thought trawling for salvage was a Commanders bread and butter?” Assuming they weren't a smuggler, pirate, or killer for hire.


“Happy new year.” She mumbled.


“Oh yeah. Happy new years...” I mumbled back, then after another silence I added. “Any resolutions?”


“I uhm, don't think so. What are those?” She was confused, I found that confusing.


“Like a vow for the coming year, like giving something up or setting a good habit.” She gave me a blank stare.


“Maybe that idea died out or something?” She said, trying to convince herself as much as me.


“I doubt it, I guess I need one though.” Deciding not to question the girl's upbringing just then, I changed the subject a little.


“Well... It sounds important, and you're late anyway. So no need to hurry I guess... I say; think it through properly.” I don't think she knew where it came from either, but that was really good advice.
Chapter Three


Before too much longer I was home, or rather finally back at Wingqvist Enterprise. The docking bay didn't look any different. I had no intentions of looking around and seeing if anything else had changed.


As we touched down she asked me what I planned on doing. I told her I was going to see if I still had a credit account. Then based on my findings, I planned to turn some money into alcohol and drink it. She told me that she knew a decent bar, I let her lead me there.


It was in the docking ring, a pilot's cafe really. She knew the guy behind the bar. She ordered a pair of beers, then asked what I wanted. I ordered some wine, she told him to bring out the bottle. I did still have a credit account to my name, but she was paying. You need to hold a balance to take advantage of thirty years of interest, I owed them for compounded overdraft fees.


“Put any thought into your, uhmm resolution?” Her question needed both of those beers in her for confidence.


“Stop trying to get published.” I told my wine.


“I thought you were a writer?” She had to say 'were'.


“I meant a book, I was researching my book when I got... Went Missing.” It still sounded too important, for me.


“What's your book about?” Now we were in present tense, it seemed.


“Ever hear of the Church of The Space Cat?” It was a long shot, they weren't very well known before.


“Nope, sounds like fun though.” I figured as much.


“They're...” Like anyone was left to insult. “They were terrorists.”


She looked at me expectantly. I downed the rest of my glass and started pouring another.


“I wanted to write a book about a little spat they got into with a group named EXO.” She gasped.


“They fought a Gal-cop founder?” I looked at her, she was intrigued. Gal-cop was history, weren't they. She'd mentioned them before too.


“Did EXO found a new Gal-cop?” That's what it sounded like, but I doubted it. They could barely police their own system.


“Yeah. Them, The Diamond Frogs, Paladins Consortium, Dark Echo, The DaVinci Corporation, The Hutton Truckers Union, The CCG, the LOSP, ACE...” She started trying harder to remember. “Uhmm... The Pixel Bandits, Knights of Karma, Atlas Corp, The Order of the Serpent, The Hammers of Slough, The Militia, and the breakaway factions from Sirius and the Inquisition. Yeah, I don't think I've forgotten anyone.” She looked at me, proud of herself.


“So there's a new Gal-cop?” I asked again, the wine helped a grin onto my face.


“Yeah, Uhmm... I just got those names drilled into me when I was young. Important, so I was told.” She laughed nervously.


“When I was young, I had a drunk history teacher take an hour out of every class to rant about how Gal-cop being gone, was a sign of the end-times.” She'd given me my situation straight, so I returned the favor. She gaped at me.


“What was it like back then?” She asked me suddenly.


“Hard work.” I was too drunk to filter myself already.


“Maybe not that much has changed.” Her quip was astute.


“Well one thing's different.” I pulled my P.A.D. from my pocket and tossed it onto the table. I brought up my list first, for effect. “I know this is useless now.”


“Who are these people?” She tilted her head to skim the names on the screen, like she might know one of them or something.


“Potential interviews. There are some famous names on there, some people who know good stuff too.” I sighed. “I managed to talk to one of the ones I've circled there but didn't know what I had, I-” She found the cluster of denoted names and let out a truncated cackle. “What's so funny?”


“I can get you in the same room as someone you have circled here, next week.” She had to fight her mirth to tell me.


I reached out and took my wine from the table, I poured the remaining spirit into my mouth. Then I refilled my glass and emptied it again.


“Are you making fun of me? That's a real question, I'm not upset... Yet. I just need to know if that was a joke or not.” She had to be fucking with me, it was too good to hope for.


“Does this 'B.' next to 'Wald' right here stand for 'Brent'?” She came at me deadpan, the picture of seriousness.


“I believe that it does.” It wasn't a secret, he just didn't go by his first name. So it wasn't very well verified, but by the gods she had an in with Captain Wald! Also he was still alive, that was equally unlikely.


“There's a social function in Thirty-Nine Tauri I can get you into.” She left it at that.


“He will be there?” My voice broke a little.


“Yeah.” That was the first time I saw Commander Valence be smug. She's kind-of cute when she has a shit-eating grin on her face.


“You can get me in?” I was more just reiterating the words to try them out.


“Yeah.” She chuckled.


“How?” I had collected myself.


“I-Uhmm... I've been invited.” Her confidence left her suddenly.


“So I'd be, your date?” She looked like my question caught her by surprise.


“Y-yeah, I uhm... Yeah.” She blushed and looked away.


“Thank you, I... I don't know what to say, you don't have to do this for me.” That seemed to settle her nerves a little.


“Oh. It's not like I got anything better goin' on right now, mister Kenji.” She joked, we laughed. I let any potential discussion of me paying her for this service be forgotten there.


There was a silent decision to celebrate that evening, actually I have no idea what time it was. I'm guessing early morning, the place was almost empty. Apparently when it came to alcohol, the girl had deep pockets. I tried not to take advantage, too much. We'd put more than our fair share of credits over the bar when she worked up the courage to ask another question.


“Did you travel a lot?” I was surprised by her probing, but gave her a look for too long. “I mean,  back before... Uhmm.  If you wanted to talk about it. Torr says that's probably good for you.” She stammered at me.


“I travelled as much as I could afford. Wasted a lot of hard earned credits.” A gulp of wine to punctuate my words.


“What did you call it... Resolution. You should resolution to Un-Waste those credits.” She poked my arm as she said it.


“I'm not sure I...” Then I got what she tried to say.


Everything was only wasted if the book never gets finished. I was only back at square one, I'd been there before. No, actually when I was at square one I hadn't met Lexx yet, I had no way to get around, no blockbuster interview lined up either. I hugged the girl before I caught myself, then stepped back reflexively.


“Sorry, it's just that, you're right and I'm drunk. Sorry.” She looked at me confused for a moment, then gripped her own arms.


“No worries.” She nodded at me, looked away, and ordered another round.


“But You're right.” I told her after a moment had passed. “I have a good shot at this now. Tabula Rasa.” She gulped from her new beer and turned to me, excited.


“Feliciter!” She replied.”Mecum per tuum latus!” She held her glass up in a toast, I vaguely matched the gesture. Her words were vaguely familiar, but like most Latin I could barely guess at it's meaning.


“I don't really speak Lingua-Imperialis, that was just a saying.” Chuckling to mask my embarrassment, I let her know.


“Oh! I uhmm... Yeah that's fine. It was a-a, from... Whatever, never mind.” She waved her hand, then finished her drink.


“So what kind of 'social function' are you bringing me to?” I wanted to push for more information about what she had just quoted instead, but I could see she was uncomfortable about it.


“Some kind of fleet ceremony, maybe a fundraiser? I forget.” I was about to joke that the Federal Navy had changed a lot if they were doing fundraisers now, when I instead thought about my history lesson back on her Cobra.


“Who's fleet?” She gave me a weird look, it must have been my tone. “I have a feeling I would be wrong to guess The Federation?”


“Oh... Yeah, they don't really...” She gritted her teeth a little. “The Alliance Protectorate Fleet.”


“I think maybe there's some history I need to catch up on before this party.” My reply received a dry laugh of relief from her.


“Yeah, Torr is a better bet for getting that lesson from than me, I think. You seem to get along fine.” She giggled a little. “I'm gonna go pick up some stuff, meet ya back at the docking bay.” She stood up but didn't leave immediately.


“Can do, I have some things to take care of before we leave anyway.” I nodded to her, she left.
Chapter Four


I waited at the bar for the better part of an hour before I got up. The lady working the front desk of the security office looked tired. If I was bothering to play this properly I would have spotted that and brought her a coffee. That didn't really matter though, this wasn't something that serious.


“What do you need, honey?” She didn't look up from her console.


“I have a... Really stupid question.” I was scanned up and down by tired eyes.


“Let me decide how stupid it is.” Expecting that I'd underestimated, by the sound of her voice.


“Can you tell me if someone living here is not named something?” She thought that through for a minute.


“Can and will aren't necessarily the same things, honey.” She was clearly a veteran when it came to stupid requests.


“I know you wouldn't tell me if someone is here with a certain name, but I thought maybe the opposite isn't specifically covered by your procedures?” I had hoped I was sober enough not to put her guard up, frankly I don't know.


“Who do you want to know isn't here?” I knew she was here.


“A woman with the surname Ken'ichi. I think she would be in her sixties.” I needed to know if she kept to the plan or not.


“Why do you want to see if nobody is named that here, honey?” I couldn't live with keeping to the plan if she hadn't.


“My name is Patrick Ken'ichi and I just want to know if she moved on or not... So that I can know if I should move on or not.” The lady behind the desk didn't seem to know what to do with that though.


“This security office cannot become involved with this sort of thing, honey. That's what lawyers are for.” She started looking for a legal-aid pamphlet to give me.


“C-cryo.” I muttered, she stopped looking for anything. “I was... In cryo. An accident, thirty years.”


“Gimme a minute, honey. I'll see what I can do.” She took a deep breath and got up from her desk.


I leaned there for a little while, concentrating on breathing steadily. An officer took a painstakingly casual walk into, then out of the office to get a look at me. Then after some more leaning and waiting, the lady returned to her desk.


“There are a few people on this 'port with that surname. All the women who do, married into it more recently than that. Do you know her maiden name?” She'd done a full look-up, but was still metering out her answers to me warily.


“If she switched back to it, then I know what I need to know.” I started to turn around.


“There's two young men living on Wingqvist who have that surname, who's mothers do not. if you tell me her-” She did tell me she wouldn't change his name again if it happened.


“One of those men has a hyphenated surname doesn't he?” She'd kept to the plan.


“Yes. It's-” Of course she'd kept to the plan, I was just clinging to a hope for an excuse.


“I know what it is. Thank you.” I headed back to Commander Valence's ship. It was time to leave, I should never have come back.


Statistically speaking; once you've been spaced in a pod, your chances to be found cut in half every day. They don't start very good either. We'd decided a year was more than optimistic. The insurance company told us that two months was considered standard.


The girl wasn't with her ship when I arrived, she had left it parked on the surface. A Cobra Mark Three, a few decades had seemingly no effect on Faulcon DeLacy's market share. Valence's ship was black, and it's paintwork needed a touch-up. I walked up the ramp and the hatch opened for me. Just inside was a fairly well outfitted cabin.


“Ms. Valence said to let you on-board.” Torr announced dryly as the hatch shut behind me.


“Thanks.” I nodded, to myself I think.


“Do not bother.” The robot spat back.


“Are you just programmed to be a dick?” This was either meant to be funny, or Torr didn't seem to like me very much.


“Not just.” That gave me pause.


The door opened again and the girl stepped inside. She was carrying a couple of shopping bags. She saw I was already there and awkwardly greeted me.


“So when are we leaving for Thirty-Nine Tauri?” I decided to cut to the chase.


“No hurry.” She said nonchalantly and sat down.


“Oh, okay.” I hid my disappointment and found another couch to sit on.


“You want to leave?” She saw through me for a moment, I must have done a bad job of masking my tone.


“I'm just eager to get back on track.” She seemed to accept that answer.


We sat across from each-other silently for a moment, It started to become slightly awkward.


“So... Take care of your errands?” She made an attempt at conversation.


“Oh I was lying, I just very slowly walked back here.” She looked away and nodded. “It was a nice walk though.”


“I imagine your legs needed a stretch.” She garnered a chuckle from me, I'm not sure she was trying to.


“Shopping?” I pointed at the bags.


“Oh yeah, mostly snacks but...” She started rummaging around. “Here.”


She threw a plastic jar towards me. I caught it and read the label, I had no idea what 'Hybrid Pan-Nav' was supposed to mean. The jar rattled when I shook it.


“What's this?” I asked with a shrug.


“Real 'Head. Torr where did I put it?” She was looking beside her couch for something.


“Under the seat.” She looked between her feet. “His seat.” The robot added.


I found a metal case about twenty five centimeters across beneath my chair. I offered it across the cabin to the girl. I put the jar on top as she took it. She thanked me and set the jar aside. Inside the box was an assortment of tools and other fixings, but the girl ignored the clutter and pulled an object about two or three times the size of a cigarette from the box. This object had a bulbous section on one end. She opened the bulb and blew into it before setting the thing down on the top of the closed case.


She broke the seal on the jar and unlatched it. She pulled a small cluster of plant matter from within and mashed it into the empty bulb on the device. She resealed both of them and handed the device to me.


“How does this work?” I asked as I hesitantly took the thing from her.


“You... Smoke it.” She said, giving me a look.


“What end do I light?” I asked as I turned it around in my hands.


“No, it doesn't... Just try it.” She looked on at my confusion for another moment before adding. “You suck on the long end.” In a slightly exasperated tone.


I gave it a pull and a small blue light immediately came to life on the short end of the device, near the bulb. I didn't taste anything, so I drew a little harder on it.


“I don't-” My disparagement was cut off by the thick white cloud that came out of my mouth. I finished inhaling and held my breath for a moment. Once I exhaled I could taste it, kinda reminded me of cheap instant noodles.


“Puff and pass.” She reminded me, I returned her device.


“That's different, really smooth, but... I...” The rush hit my head rather suddenly. She politely waited for me to finish my sentence while she took a toke. I was seeing spectra surrounding sources of light. She giggled at me.


“I told ya I could get better Onionhead, Mister Kenji.” She was not lying.
Chapter Five


“... Don't think...” She was gone. “... It's working...?” I was wrong, it had worked fine.


I sat back up on the couch, I had been lying down. The cabin lights were dimmed and I was alone.


“Good morning Pete Kenji.” Torr said through the walls.


“It's morning?” I yawned out a reply.


“You have been asleep for five hours, forty-two minutes. It is Two Thirty-Four GMT.” The robot's tone was suggestive of rolled eyes. “Ms Valence wishes that I tell you to help yourself to something to eat and some coffee. They are stored in the compartment in the table in front of you.”


I opened the tilting cupboard and saw the snacks she had bought earlier, still in the plastic bag she had brought them in. Lukewarm pouches of overly sweetened caffeine product did not sound appealing.


“Hey Torr, got any water?” I did take one of the packs of crackers.


“Behind you. Ms Valence would like you to join her in the cockpit.” I started to get up. “Close the cupboard, Pete Kenji.”


“Sorry, is there a hurry?” I shut the snacks compartment, and started to worry.


“Yes.” Torr replied plainly.


I pulled a pouch of water from the dispenser on the wall and hurried to the cockpit while I drank it. The girl was in her seat, leaning as close to the canopy as she could. She was singing along quietly with the song playing in the cockpit. I'd never heard the music before, but it didn't sound very different from what was popular when I'd been frozen. Sounded eerily familiar, actually. She cut the volume of the pop-music and stopped singing abruptly when the doorway opened.


“Oh good, you're awake. Take a seat.” She said pointedly, while pointing at the co-pilot's chair.


“What's up?” I gestured behind us, not sure why. “Torr sounded worried.”


“Uhmm...” She gave me, then the general direction of up, each a strange look. “Get strapped in, things might get fun.” She commanded me dismissively.


As I clasped the harness together I took stock of the situation. The girl had her ship in an ice ring. The parent body was nowhere to be seen, but the ring was very dense looking. The local star was behind us and billowing light into the ice. Her ship was nearly shut down, in silent running mode. Drifting very slowly, imitating a frozen chunk.


“Okay I'm strapped in.” She took the gravity offline with her system panel. “Eugh. What's going on?” The water in my stomach shifted noticeably with the sudden lack of pull.


She gave me a worried look for a fleeting moment, then gritted her teeth.


“I'm after a bounty.” She closed the holographic screen between us, then went back to leaning towards the glass and staring.


I watched her for a moment, she was doing her best to ignore me. I brought up my P.A.D. to take some notes, and give her a little privacy.


“Got a spare flight-suit?” I said, mostly joking.


“Oh! Uhm, no I... Here.” I'm not sure what she thought I meant, but she opened her visor and pulled her hair out. She also shot me a pleading smile.


I turned to look out the window on my other side when a sliver of light caught my eye, I was inhaling to say something when Commander Valence started barking orders to her robot.


“Power up Torr, lock onto them as soon as they resolve.” Torr acknowledged her command.


The Cobra came back to life, but continued to drift for the moment it took for the thrusters to spool up. I had lost sight of the other vessel, but suddenly we started to head towards it. As soon as she had the vector she wanted, she cut the flight assist and drifted.


“Show me, show me.” She muttered, burning a hole into space with her eyes.


A flickering holographic box appeared under her gaze. She re-instated the assist and started a hard burn towards them. As we got closer I could make out a pair of exhaust trails weaving through the ice.


“It's them.” She announced.


“The scan is incomplete, it is a-” Commander Valence spoke over Torr for the last word.
“Courier.” They both said.


“Get the warrant scan up NOW!” She deployed her hard-points, and returned the volume on her music to full.


A blue shimmer told me that Valence's shields had finished coalescing. Her target was getting closer, I could see their wing-mate now. It looked like an Eagle.


“Ms. Valence I am not finding a warrant for either of them.” She swore in reply. “We could wait.”


She blasted the engines and closed the gap. A pair of beams loosed from the chin of her Cobra into the Courier. They started to pull up to about face, their wing-mate broke away.


“Full power to shields!” She cried just before impact.


Commander Valence's Cobra ricocheted away, but the shields held strong. The Courier's shield went down immediately and it's hull took a serious blow. I nearly lost my grip on my P.A.D.


“Weapons!” She cried this time, as she swung the ship around.


The paired cannons made short work of the Gutamaya's cockpit. The Eagle chattered some multi-canon rounds into the left side of Valence's shield. She slammed the throttle and closed the hard-points.


“Power to shields, Gimme something high-sec Torr, one jump or less.” She said as she threw the ship into a series of defensive rolls, she was breaking from the ring for her escape.


“Route plotted.” The robot replied.


She charged the Frame-shift jump and loosed chaff. Red hot alloy was being slung past us in bursts. The bar rendering in front of Valence was nearly filled when the Cobra rocked hard.


“Ms. Valence, missiles. We have lost shields.” Might be wrong, but I think Torr had a hint of panic to his voice.


“Fuck-Shit-Fuck!” Valence had more than a hint of it to hers.


She took off the flight-assist and slung the cobra to face backwards. Her H.U.D. was whining about the jump being ready. Her lasers came back to life, crossed their beams, and detonated the second missile. It didn't look any less than ten meters away from the canopy. For a tiny fraction of a moment the pilot of the Eagle and Commander Valence stared each-other down. Then the Eagle began to break, only shifting it's vector slightly. Instantly, Valence had her Cobra facing into it's vector again. The jump initiated automatically.


At least, that's what I was told happened, I'd all but lost consciousness by the time we hit hyperspace. Later that night, I noticed that my toes were bruised.


She had been cheering, I think. Her shifting suddenly to worry didn't shake me out of it. Gravity kicking back in did, nearly got me to puke too.


“A-a-are you okay?” She was hesitantly shaking one of my shoulders.


“Gwah... Eugh... Yeah.” She didn't seem very convinced.


“I- I'm... I didn't...” She furrowed her brow at me. “I thought you'd be...”


“I'm okay.” I shakily tore open the package of crumbs and ate some of it. “Just out of practice.”


“Okay... Sorry about that.” She returned to her seat. “I'll try to keep the hotshot flying to a minimum while you're here.”


“I'd rather black-out, than get blown up. Keep up the good work, Commander.” She laughed. “Lexx was a shit pilot, always kept the hotshot stuff to a minimum. Guess where that got him?”


“Uhm... Who?” She turned down her music until it was barely audible. I'd barely noticed it was blasting while we talked.


“Commander Lexx. He flew the ship I was in, before.” I waved my hand in self-directed impatience as I explained myself.


“Oh... O-oh.” She went from sounding surprised, to blushing slightly.


“Besides, it's this nifty gravity you've got that sending my stomach for a loop.” I pointed at the floor and smiled at her. “Nothing like this, back in the day. Guess I'll have to get used to it.”


“Oh, it's an expensive job. You won't be finding too much of it. Can't be done without a 'Shifter, eats power like mad. Most folks don't even know who to talk to and get their hands on it anyway.” She was more confident speaking about her ship.


“Might be bias on my part, but you seem like a very well connected woman.” Suddenly she was blushing again.


“Probably just bias.” She tried a shy joke, I laughed for her.


After a moment passed, she sighed and spoke to Torr.


“Where did that guy want to meet up for confirmation?” Back to business.


“Here.” As he said it an icon popped to life on the canopy.


“Only a jump away? Perfect.” She spooled the shifter as she said it.
Chapter Six


The system was sparsely populated, Valence's contact wanted to meet at some crusty old outpost orbiting a lump of rock a few hundred thousand light seconds out from the Nav-Beacon. Valence turned her music back up when she was finished scooping for fuel.


The songs were totally new to me, but something about the singer sounded horribly familiar. The third song to play, I recognized. It had been getting regular airtime in most of the core of the Federation before I was frozen.


“Wait a minute... Are we listening to Payne Hughes?” I wrote a bit once about pop-stars and Progenitor-cells getting weird, maybe I had been right.


“We are totally listening to Payne Hughes, you've heard of her?” Somewhere between shocked and excited.


“Cargo-Carnival was popular as hell when I was frozen, I guess some things never change.” I chuckled.


“Oh her second band broke up in Thirty-Three-Oh-Three. She got really good once she went solo.” Valence knew more about her than I did.


“I didn't know she did anything before Cargo-Carnival.” I wasn't there for anything afterwards.


“Once she got big, they did a comeback tour, it wasn't bad. She was peaking then though.” For any differences in taste we have, Valence's opinions are well thought out.


“Damn, I thought she was a little overrated back in the day. I guess I was wrong if her career is still going strong.” I'd never heard of a pop-star like Payne lasting much longer than a decade, and even that was rare.


“Oh, uhm... She's dead. And not super popular, really.” It turned out I still hadn't.


“What happened?” I would have put my money on a drug overdose.


“She was shot at a protest in Thirty-Three-Oh-Eight. She went activist in the latter half of her career.” I would have been wrong.


“An artist, martyred against an oppressor? I bet she had a strong following.” That story happened to lots of artists on pre-industrial earth, and we still knew about some of them.


“There are probably a few dozen of us, there's a Galnet forum.” Valence replied with a sarcastic joke.


We were quiet for a small time, that outpost was still a little while away. I'd been trying to ignore the burning questions that kept being raised.


“Protest, against the Federation?” I barely needed to ask.


“Yeah. Really, it hadn't even gotten that bad yet.” The girl answered quietly.


“Shit... They just came apart?” I think it would have been expected of me to say 'We', like that mattered anymore.


“Imploded. I was just a kid at the ass-end. But my folks saw the thick of it.” She took a deep breath. “All that I saw was burned out cities, and debris fields being scoured for survivors.”


“Sounds like your parents were on the good side.” I would bet that also meant they were from the outside.


“Sounds like...” The girl agreed under her breath.


“Who threw the first punch, Feds or the Empire?” It could have been neither and that would still be the relevant question.


“Depends on who you ask.” I didn't get a straightforward answer though.


“Well, what did your parents say, they were there right?” She let out a sullen breath when I asked.


“...Depends on... Who you ask.” She didn't want to discuss that, it seemed.


“Why did Torr call it an Internecine Conflict?” She beckoned the robot to answer for himself.


“The Federation did not maintain stability during or after the Pleiades Territorial Conflict.” The robot casually rattled off. “Belligerents of The War consisted of the Three splinter factions of the Federation, The Imperium, The Alliance, Sirius Gov, Sirius Corporation, and the Kumo-Crew Third Exploitation Fleet.”


“...And the kitchen sink.” I was in awe. “Scavvers get mentions in history books now?”


“Did you mean Sirius or The Kumo-Crew?” Robots could imply things unintentionally, apparently.


“Delaine's lot.” I clarified.


“Information is sparse, The Third Exploitation Fleet kept inconsistent records before the Pleiades Territorial Conflict, and featured a heavily challenged chain of command. By Thirty-Three-Oh-Three the Third Exploitation Fleet had cemented itself as one of the primary projectors of power in the Pleiades Nebula. Talks were accepted by the Imperial Navy to establish Command Liaison before the end of the year.” So dryly spoken, yet absolutely groundbreaking.


“Holy shit, the Imperium joined hands with Delaine?” Fortunately, I had misunderstood.


“No. Sometime between arriving in the Pleiades and Thirty-Three-Oh-Three, the chain of command between the Third Exploitation Fleet and the Kumo-Crew at large broke down.” Torr clarified, with the most confusing statement I could imagine.


“Go on.” It was the only thing I could say.


“As the Federal Navy Became less and less able to project power into the Pleiades Nebula, talks between the Ant-Hill-Mob and Zemina Torval began to be strained. Internally, the Imperium was unable to convince Denton Patreus to garrison the Pleiades, instead the admiral was committing to peacekeeping action within the failing Federation. The Ant-Hill-Mob had preferred to liaison with him. Zemina Torval was unwilling to participate in negotiations with the Third Exploitation Fleet.” Torr gave me the bullet points of history.


“Who stepped in?” I had a guess.


“The Alliance was brought into negotiations at the behest of the Ant-Hill-Mob and the Command of the Third Exploitation Fleet. Initially reluctant, the offer that convinced them was the Third Exploitation Fleet.” Torr's phrasing threw me.


“Hold on. What did they offer?” I had been right about who showed up, but I was still lost.


“The fleet offered the fleet. Refitted and re-branded The First Protectorate Flotilla. This is considered the Birth of the Alliance Protectorate Fleet, and the rebirth of The Alliance as a whole. This happened sometime between the years of Thirty-Three-Oh-Seven and Thirty-Three-Oh-Eight.” Incredible, I latched to a tiny part I could wrap my head around.


“You don't know when?” A very tiny part.


“Records are inconsistent.” The robot explained plainly.


“It took almost two years.” The girl said to herself suddenly.


“Sorry?” I had barely heard her.


“To refit the ships, they'd been out there for half a decade of war by then. Most of them were barely void-worthy.” She looked at me for a moment. “The inconsistencies Torr is finding, it's because it didn't all happen at once.”


“Noted, Ms. Valence.” Torr acknowledged.


“Your parents...” She just nodded, then changed the subject.


“You are the first person I've met in person who's heard of Payne Hughes, you know.” She let out a single dry laugh. “It figured I would have to find a time-traveller to have a conversation about my favorite singer.” I smiled, it was a passable joke.


“I think I've got the latter half of a discography to review.” I accepted the change of subject willingly. “You should tell that forum about this, I bet it would go over well with all dozen of you.” She snickered and nodded.


“Oh you have no idea, I stole that time-traveller joke.” I let out a laugh, her deadpan caught me off-guard. “Okay, we're just about there, Stay on-board I'm meeting him outside, so I'm not pulling into the bay.” She added her instructions with a smile.


She docked with the outpost and moved through the Cobra to the rear airlock. I couldn't see her from the cockpit, but she made her way around the outpost to meet her contact. They were waiting at the base of the anti-normal facing transmission tower. Should only take about ten minutes, she'd said.


“Torr, boot up the drives, get ready to leave.” Commander Valence's voice cracked into the cockpit after only two minutes. The robot complied without a word.


Thirty seconds later she was storming back into the ship and hastily launching. Her fingers hitting switches with a furious impatience. She selected a nearby system and jumped to it without saying anything to me, then she did so again four more times. Seemingly satisfied with whatever route she'd completed, she let the ship scream off-plane from whatever system we found ourselves in, until we were in deep space.


She held this super-luminal trajectory in silence for a few more minutes before her shoulders sank a little. Commander Valence opened her navigation panel and started to flit through it, actually planning a route now.


“Something go wrong?” Judging from her reaction to my question, she'd forgotten she had a passenger.


She turned and looked at me for a moment, her visor was sealed so I couldn't see her face. Her posture suggested that she was angry though, I'm not sure with whom.


“That ass-hole stiffed me for that job.” She explained before turning back to her navigational computer.


“Shitty...” I suddenly realized that Commander Valence had just made good her escape. “... Is that guy a problem?”


“No.” She said coldly.


“Are you sure?” She didn't sound sure.


“He was going to be, but not anymore.” She'd killed him, by the sounds of things it was something she hated making a habit of.


“Oh.” I tried to say with some finality.


Silence dragged for a few minutes while she continued to jab her finger at the Nav-Panel.


“Fuck, I don't even know what I'm doing here.” She muttered and closed the display angrily.


“Listen, it's a harsh Galaxy. Guy knew what risks he was taking getting sly on a contract like that. You don't have to beat yourself up over some jackass who doesn't want to pay his bills.” She waved her hand to silence me.


“I... I uhm, meant the route I was trying to plot. I don't have any market data to go from, so I was just connecting dots randomly.” She stifled a dry giggle. “Thanks... Though.”


An incredibly awkward quiet began to permeate the cockpit. After some time Torr decided to speak up.


“Ms. Valence, Pete Kenji. I have had an Idea.” The robot paused dramatically, then a song from Valence's playlist started to play.


“You sarcastic ass.” I started chuckling.


With a sigh Valence re-opened her Nav-Panel and picked a system quickly. As she pointed her ship towards it she shook her head and spoke.


“You give Torr an awful lot of credit. I'm gonna take us to Okorafor Market for something to eat.” Then she put us into Hyperspace.
Chapter Seven


Okinura, I'd been there a few times before. It was a bustling system, a web of active shipping lanes. Well, it was the last time I was there. There were still a large number of Star-ports in Okinura, but the bustle had left.


“Torr, what's Okinura's population?” I asked hesitantly after seeing the sparse space-ways.


“Eight point two million. The population of Okinura has grown for the last three years, local news-net suggests this is worth celebrating.” The robot read aloud from the local-net.


“Yeah, I'll bet it is.” Last time I was here, the local News was lamenting projections of a population topping five billion in a year or two.


Commander Valence put her Cobra down inside the city on the surface. There were a few prefab landing sites laid out in a square between some buildings. The ring of proper landing pads encircling the city didn't seem to be in use.


She got up from the pilot's seat then after hesitating for a fraction of a second she reached back and dropped her ship down into the hangar. I decided that I should invest in a flight-suit, somehow. Once the hangar was pressurized we left the Cobra. The stairwell led into the enclosed walkway on the surface, a short walk later we turned onto a simple catwalk extending towards a nearby building. The walkway was kept from the vacuum by an inflated plastic tube.


It was all very primeval-space-fairer-chic, but those kinds of temporary walkways usually weren't meant to be connected end to end. The patchwork repairs I was seeing suggested a level of permanence, that I didn't think was intended by the manufacturer either. Unlike the hangar side of the tunnel, the side meeting the building had an airlock. It was jammed open, we walked into a plaza.


The space had the architectural trimmings of a high-end corporate office-park. Somewhere between it's construction and now it had become a densely packed, and haphazardly expanded living space with commercial trappings at ground-level. It looked like a few thousand people might be living in here, but next to nobody was around. It was the middle of the local night. A few people walking, and a few more standing at carts trying to sell things to them.


Valence walked with a purpose towards a ratty little place with a paper lantern hanging from the balcony above. I wouldn't have guessed from outside that it even was a restaurant. She slid open the divider that served as the front door and gestured for me to enter.


Tiny was an overstatement. Barely able to accommodate the bar and kitchen, let alone the seats or three customers already inside. An old man in a robe leaned out from the kitchen and greeted us. He had a jovial expression on his weary and scarred face.


“Tonteki again, Valence-chan?” The cook asked in a gravelly voice.


“Yes, and a beer please, Masuta-san.” Valence looked at me and said. “Order whatever you want.”


The man in the robe looked at me expectantly. I asked what was on the menu, he pointed at a sign on the wall that I couldn't read.


“Just order whatever you want. If he has the ingredients, he'll make it.” Valence was bemused.


“Oh... Umm, I'll just have what she's having.” I eventually muttered. As the man turned back towards his kitchen I spoke back up. “Uh, no beer for me... You got any of that hot liquor here?”


“Sake?” He asked over his shoulder, given pause by my question.


“Okay.” That is in fact what it's called, I didn't know that.


He had Valence's beer in front of her before I'd finished squeezing onto the bar-stool. My Sake took a little longer. Whatever we'd ordered smelled good.


“Who's the new friend?” One of the other patrons asked Valence, the portly fellow had a look about him like he'd strike up conversations with girls without knowing them properly. I think he did know her though. They were both regulars here, him more-so than her, I believe.


“Passenger.” She replied without much hesitation.


The man nodded, his peaked cap pointing up and down. He took a small cup from the table and gestured at me with it.


“Sake is a man's drink.” He said approvingly, deepening the furrows on his cheeks with a smile.


“Really? You drink it all the time but you're still only half a man.” The woman sitting on the opposite side of the bar retorted, her friend sitting next to her started laughing a shrill laugh.


For a moment he looked quite hurt, but then he came back with something about still being too much man for her. They kept bickering but I don't know what they were saying. Our food was ready so Commander Valence excused herself from the conversation to eat. At the time, I had no idea what any of the people in the restaurant were saying to each-other. I got Valence to translate for me later. The food was good, stir fried vegetables and salty-meat cutlets. The chef was smoking though and that made me want to as well.


Once we'd finished eating and then drinking, Valence stood up and gave a little bow to the cook before paying the bill. I got up and thanked him for his hospitality, though I hadn't been able to experience much of it through the language barrier. Valence and him had a long conversation that I couldn't understand while she finished her second beer. Afterwards, she opened the door and stepped through, I put a hand on the frame to steady myself as I moved to follow her. That hot-liquor was good.


“Writer.” The cook beckoned me suddenly. “A moment please.”


“She told you I'm a writer?” Turning on my heel, I leaned against the inside of the door frame.


“She told me much, about your quest.” He looked away for a moment and lit a new cigarette. “This war you try to write about... Why?”


“I... Don't have anywhere- anything else I can... I have to.” Sometimes alcohol blurs your thoughts, other times it doesn't


“Is this story, yours?” He put a weight into his voice.


“What? I'm writing it, of course it's mine.” I didn't really understood what he'd meant, he didn't grasp that I hadn't.


“Good, I think your story is the one to tell.” He cleared his throat and curtly added. “Be careful with Valence-chan.”


“Hey buddy, I'm not... What?” I'd gestured defensively but been cut off when he held up a hand.


“Be...” He thought about his phrasing. ”...Wary of, her.” He nodded to himself, satisfied with his second choice of words.


I blinked at him for a little bit, then thanked him and left the diner. The plaza was dim as I wandered through it mechanically, trying to figure out the conversation I'd just been in.


“There you are.” She was leaning against a light-post. “Head back to the ship, I'm gonna see if I can find some cargo worth hauling.”


“No problem, how long do you- Uhh...” I hadn't been given any real reason to question the tiny rigid pack attached to the small of her back with the harness at that point. She'd had the harness on when I'd first seen her, I think I assumed it was a translation belt. Four long slender mechanical appendages sprung from it and started grasping the lamp she was leaning on.


“Hopefully less than an hour.” She answered casually as her robotic insect legs carried her up the post. At the top, she curled her feet as she was thrown onto a third story balcony. The lamp post reverberated slightly.
Chapter Eight


So I walked back to the Cobra, in all honesty I sprinted through that fucking tunnel. Once I was back inside the ship I paced for a moment then turned my head upwards vaguely.


“Uhh, Torr?” The robot's reply came from a speaker on the wall, so I turned that way.


“Yes, Pete Kenji.” A mote of exasperation.


“What the fuck are the legs on her back?” A sympathetic spike of adrenaline as I thought about it again.


“The Arcturus Mobility: Self-Contained Actuated-Limb Expedient. A top of the line solution to your low and no gravity mobility needs. Better suited to enclosed environments and less dependent of ferromagnetic architecture than other methods.” He paused. “This model ranks high in user reviews, most common complaint is expense over competing brands.” He rattled off at me, casually.


“Woah. Well I guess if I'm talking to a robot, then that shouldn't be so surprising.” It still was, but I would get over it.


“I am not a robot.” He said robot slowly to mock how I pronounce it. “If I were, I would have a body.”


“Do you want a body?” I thought I'd detected some lament in the robot's tone.


“You could call this ship my body, but technically: it is a vessel.” I groaned at Torr's awful pun.


“Oh gods. Could I get you to downgrade your humor settings again?” I was only barely joking.


“No, you are not authorized. Besides, right now I am set to puns. The settings above are sarcasm, and below that.” The sound of a single-note horn being blown came through the speaker. “So you should ask Ms. Valence to upgrade them, if anything.”


“I'll uhh... Keep that in mind.” I had no bearing whatsoever on how much of a joke that was, so after finding a seat I asked. “Torr, is that actually how you're programmed?”


“No, that was me being facetious, I thought it was funny. But, my humor settings have been downgraded.” Yeah he could be sarcastic at his current setting, for sure.


“So what hideous calamity befell Okinura while I was frozen?” In little bites, I was finding history to be possible to choke down.


“My search indicates no 'Hideous Calamities'. If you are referring to the steep drop in population, this is not uncommon within the former Federal core systems.” Back to his careful monotone.


“But, why?” It wasn't a process I'd never heard of, but this was astronomical scale.


“Emigration from the Federation, legally or not, was a rampant issue during The War.” He didn't say refugees, I wondered a little about why.


“What, did they institute a draft?” I joked.


“Yes.” Torr answered dryly.


“You, uhh said former core systems. Who's territory are we in right now?” I shifted the subject over a little.


“This sector of space is under Alliance jurisdiction.” He put a little emphasis on their name.


“They came out on top, I guess?” If everything had gone nuts while I was out, that sort of made sense.


“The Alliance controls Three-Point-Nine-Seven times the number of systems than they did in Thirty-Three-Oh-Two. If that is what you mean.” By contrast, his monotone sounded dismayed this time.


“Then I guess so.” The conclusion seemed obvious to me.


“The situation is debatable.” Torr seemed to have something to say about that though.


“Pardon?” His scolding tone caught my attention.


“The Gross Domestic Product of the Alliance has never approached the peak set in early Thirty-Three-Hundred, though there have been five non-consecutive neutral growth years since then. The territory gained during The War has been referenced in speeches as 'a burden' and 'a cost' multiple times.” The robot explained to me.


“What, so this was some kind of... Humanitarian land-grab?” It sounded absurd to me.


“That is an apt description.” Torr seemed pleased that I'd said it though.


“They get a lot of flack for this don't they?” I put my disbelief aside to get more information from the robot.


“Outside of the Alliance the territory gained during The War has been referenced less positively.” He implied 'Burden' was positive, good gods.


“Do you, not like that?” He clearly didn't but I wasn't sure if that was something he was capable of.


“I disagree with the stance that The Alliance took responsibility of this territory for exploitative purposes.” That raised an eyebrow.


“Why?” Was this an opinion thing, or just what Torr called people talking shit.


“The Alliance has gained nothing of measure by doing so, in fact there has been great sacrifice.” That made it sound like the latter to me.


“That's it?” But I wanted to be sure.


“I cannot make satisfactorily valid projections of a scenario where the Alliance did nothing, though the ones I can make suggest this region has received a comparative peace and stability.” Then the robot told me he thought people were better off for it, because he could only imagine worse.


“That's pretty convincing. I didn't know you could hold opinions like that.” From then on I would never be convinced that he couldn't.


“The situation is debatable.” Though even Torr would try to.


“What does that mean, you just fake it?” I scoffed.


“That is the nature of the debate.” I rolled that around in my head for a minute and tried to think of a different question to ask.


“Well, what's your opinion on that?” Then I asked the first one that had come to mind anyway.


“My opinion is that I can hold opinions, Pete Kenji.” Torr told me like I was a child. Maybe if his humor settings were turned up, he would of thought it was funny too.


“Seems simple enough. What do you think of Okinura?” There was a tiny moment of pause before he answered me.


“My first impressions were of wariness, but few to no unfortunate events have transpired during Ms. Valence's visits here. So I like Okinura.” I was here for the first time, weariness made sense to me.


“What about that outpost we were at before here, you like that place?” Personally, I hated that place. Wherever it was.


“Ms. Valence did not seem to like that outpost, so no. I do not.” A fleeting, but matching opinion.


“Do you like this Cobra?” Another tiny pause while he thought about it.


“Ms. Valence has never shown dissatisfaction with her vessel, nor have I experienced any difficulties with my hardware or software integration. I like this Cobra very much.” His tone told me how much he liked the vessel.


“You hold her opinion in high regard.” Probably because he didn't have many other people to talk to.


“She is usually astute in her opinions, Pete Kenji.” Torr accused me with his tone.


“You don't like me, do you?” I didn't really need to ask.


“I was trying so hard to hide it.” If the robot had eyes he would have been rolling them at me.


“Oh come on, what did I do to you?” Nothing came to mind.


“You have done nothing to me. I find you to be an engaging conversationalist.” That compliment was unexpected.


“So... You don't trust me...” The esteem he held Valence in was telling. “...Around her?”


“It is not personal, I trust almost no-one around her.” An honest, wisecracking, ass-hole robot. The future is weird.


“So you're being a sarcastic ass to me, to let me know you don't like me?” I decided to press that debate he mentioned, to push his buttons back a little.


“That is how it works. I see you can learn, good for you.” He understood what I was trying to do.


“Well hold on a minute, is convincing me you don't like me just a means to an end. Or do you actually not like me?” I asked smugly.


“What is the difference, Pete Kenji?” I was only trying to push his buttons, Torr knew exactly what he was doing.


“... Fuck me...” I muttered to myself, fighting a little wave of existential dread.


“Not even if I had a body.” He jabbed lightly. “I worry about her because she is my charge, this is my imperative. Until I see otherwise, I will project your presence as a potential risk to her. Ms. Valence tells me I worry too much, the design team at Reinhardt Intellisys and therefore, I disagree.” Being single again had suddenly deprived me of many things, an easy answer to warnings away from women was rapidly become my most missed one. But, I am an idiot.


“Maybe you should listen to her Torr. I have a feeling I've got more to worry about, than the other way around.” She was a Commander after all.


“The risk of infection from opening a transponder-less pod is One-Point-Three percent.” The practicality of the issue he raised struck me immediately.


“What did she say, when you told her that?” A pressing question came to mind immediately.


“Ms. Valence said that I worry too much. She also explained that there was a person lost in the pod, and that to her; this took precedent. I disagree.” I wonder if that would have hurt less, if I hadn't just concluded that he was sapient.


“Well, thanks for thinking about me.” His reply came very suddenly, still a monotone, only a little faster than before.


“It is not my job to think about you, Pete Kenji.” Torr said nothing for a short time before speaking back up, calm again. “I apologize that you are not my priority, this is not something I do to cause ill-will. You may wish to know that I like our conversations.” I think he felt bad about hurting my feelings.


“Thanks, for... Thinking about me.” I fought a laugh while I said it.


“That actually is pretty funny.” A hint of the sound of a smile in Torr's acknowledgement. ”You are being offered a chance to prove me wrong, I advise that you do so.”


“That's awfully kind of you Torr.” It didn't seem like something he would do, given his job.


“Ms. Valence has insisted.” Not willingly it seemed. I owed many things to this girl, it was starting to be an issue.


I had no way of repaying this kindness, but that wasn't what was bothering me. I had no idea why Commander Valence was doing this.


“You have gone silent.” Torr pointed out.


“Yeah... You've just given me a lot to think about, is all.” I muttered.


“If you have any questions, I doubt I need to finish this sentence.” He got me to snort with that one.


I'd thought of a good question to ask, when Ms. Valence returned to her Cobra. So I stowed it for later. She was fiddling with a hologram projecting from her cuff as she came into the cabin. Looked like an invoice.


“Just waiting on the cargo.” She announced as she sat down next to me on the couch.


“Nothing Illegal I hope.” I quipped as she produced her Onionhead kit.


“Nah, not even leaving the system.” She found something still left in her, I'm going to call it a pipe, and smoked it.


“I guess they don't have much for security in this system anymore then?” I asked as I produced another of my own smokes.


“You need another light?” I nodded, she pulled a lighter from her kit and handed it to me. “You can keep it.” It was even the same color as the one I'd thrown across Jameson Memorial's dock


“That's hilarious, this is the same exact brand, model, everything. Holy-shit. At least one thing hasn't changed.” I held up the lighter triumphantly after I'd lit my cigarette with it.


“Is that tobacco?” She asked wearily. I nodded. “Put that out!”


She sounded serious, so I put it out. There wasn't an obvious ashtray so I licked my fingers and pinched it. She was shaking her head at me.


That's illegal here.” She scolded.


“Ha!” Torr laughed his mechanical laugh.


“Oh, uhh... Sorry.” I put the butt back into the pack carefully. “Wait, the chef at that diner was smoking, wasn't he?”


“Masuta-san doesn't give a fuck, I do.” She produced a small spray can of air freshener and used it. “And, the police don't care if he has a smoke or two in his diner. I don't want to give them an excuse to search the whole ship.”


“Are you hiding something?” She stopped and looked at me for a second.


“Uhmm. Yeah.” She turned away and took another toke.


“What are-” The robot took over tactfully.


“You.” Torr answered suddenly, after a tiny pause he continued. “Ms. Valence, the cargo has arrived and is being loaded now.”


“Okay, good. Probably a few minutes then.” She noticed the look of complete confusion on my face. “...Until the inspection.” She added slowly.


“Oh. Uhh what's the cover story?” I tried to catch up as quick as I could, hide my shock.


“They probably won't ask you anything. But you don't have to lie; I'm just bringing you from Korwei to Thirty-Nine Tauri.” We nodded at each-other.


“We are being hailed, with video.” Torr declared.


She got up and walked to the cockpit, I followed her. She sat down and hit a button causing a bald man to appear across the canopy. He looked skewed from where I stood.


“Commander Valence.” He nodded to her.


“Sargent.” She replied, I sat down.


“Scan matches your manifest. Have a safe journey, Commander.” The hologram vanished.


Valence put her pipe in her mouth to free her hands and called the landing pad to rise. She lifted off carefully and kept her lights on until the controller signed off. She didn't speed either. I could have assumed things were different now, but I thought to myself that the girl flies like a seasoned smuggler. She had just hidden me in plain sight.
Chapter Nine


She hauled stuff around Okinura for the better part of two days, she claimed the money for her time was okay. The way she said it, implied some conditions to that statement though. On the second day she was offered a cargo run to a nearby system and took it, then chased another to a third system. I'm going to stop boring you with these details here, Valence worked for a week. I was just there on her ship. Her Cobra had a sonic shower, those things were too efficient. Keeping clean and doing laundry all in one five minute blast feels enabling, in a bad way. They make my eyes vibrate too, I don't like that either. It was that Friday when I thought to bring up the party again.


“You said the fleet thing was a week away, right?” She'd taken me to another docking ring dive for breakfast. We were killing some time over coffee.


“Oh yeah. It's uhm... The day after tomorrow.” She answered into her cup.


“Okay cool.” I wasn't a huge fan of coffee, but they didn't have any tea here.


“We're only a couple of jumps out, lots of time to-” She went quiet and was staring at me.


“What? Don't we have time to get there?” She was making me worried.


“No, that's not... No. Shit.” She was thinking hard, tapping her fingers on the mug.


“What?” I didn't like the mystery of it. “What's wrong?”


“Formal attire.” She turned to me and shot her answer quickly, then went back to pensively looking at the table-top.


“You have nothing to wear?” I asked jokingly.


“I'm... Oh crap, I might not...” A shred of horror passed over her eyes for a moment. “Whatever, no look; you dress like a space-hobo. We need you to be presentable for this.” I was a little torn between the insult, how true it was, and her use of 'we'.


“I kinda, am a space-hobo.” I pretended to be proud of it for humor, she laughed a little.


“No seriously though, we need something nice for you to wear... Fuck.” Then she continued treating it like a big problem.


“Hang on.” I said and left the table.


The guy behind the counter was also one of the cooks, there was only two of them running the place, it doesn't matter. I asked the guy behind the counter where the nearest thrift-store was. He looked confused. So I tried calling it a charity-shop, then a second-hand-store. Then I described the process of reselling donated clothes on the cheap. They called them Sally-Stores there, he didn't know why. I got directions, he got a thank-you.


“Finish your coffee. We got cheap clothes to buy.” I said as I returned to the table.


She had been watching me carefully and was taken aback by my choice of words. After pausing to consider, she shrugged and downed what was left of her drink.


“Okay, let's see this then.” Incredulous, yet interested.


The building was an unassuming, plain commercial space. It was on the nice side of a crap neighborhood buried in the middling sections of the Coriolis. It wasn't very busy, a few old women puttering around, and the skeleton crew of staff. There was a fairly large section for toys, in the back corner. Mostly adult sizes on the racks though. They had plain placards hanging from the ceiling to suggest some semblance of sectional sorting.


“Uhmm...” Valence muttered hesitantly as we stepped inside.


“Just have a look around, I shouldn't take long too find something decent.” I started to leave her there, before I thought of a solid question to add. “Is there a tie color I should wear?”


“Oh! Yeah, actually.” She rolled up the sleeve on her sweater to show the banding on her flight-suit. “Anything but this blue.” I nodded and walked off to look.


It was an interesting way to phrase the rule. I wondered why, as I picked out a red and purple paisley. Found a black shirt and black pants, just needed shoes and a jacket. I considered not bothering with the shoes, but I was wearing a cheap pair of lace-up runners. Shoes like that were the lynch-pin of dressing like a space-hobo.


I found a pair of dark brown dress boots. I think they were military, in style at least. They were in good condition, so I grabbed them. Then I found two choices of jacket. There was a dressy, but plain swede one. It was brown and matched the shoes nicely. There was also a burgundy, half-length overcoat with slightly flared cuffs. With the benefit of hindsight, I would have been fine with the jacket I preferred. But I erred on the side of caution and picked the quiet one. It matched better anyway.


I was by the checkout with the outfit in maybe five minutes. I waited for Valence for another half an hour. Eventually she found me sitting on some furniture they were trying to silent-auction.


“This place is great, how did you know this was here?” She had an armload of attire, and a look of excitement on her face.


“There's thrift-stores everywhere. Haven't you ever seen those donation bins for them?” If she said no, I planned to point out the one in the docking ring.


“You've got me there mister Kenji, I never really thought about how that was supposed to work.” She laughed. “Shit, I've put clothes in one of those before.” She shook her head at herself.


“Well I'm glad to see I've made a believer out of you.” I pointed at her spoils. “Find anything good.”


“Yeah, I found a few great th-” She stopped and thought for a moment. “Wait. That can wait, show me what you've got.” She pointed at the clothing in my lap and put her other hand to her hip, pinning what she held under her arm.


“You want me to try it on for you?” Standing up, I posed a sly question.


“Just lay them out on the couch.” She replied dryly.


I did so and let her examine my choices, this situation felt too familiar. Eventually she concluded that it would do. She thought of an addendum as I picked it all back up.


“Do you need a hat? Maybe you could use a hat.” She sort-of said to me.


“I don't usually wear hats. Too boring?” It was meant to be.


“Maybe not, maybe I could use a hat...” She noticed I was a part of this conversation and blushed a little. “...I saw a cute hat... I'll be right back.”


She only took a few more minutes, then whisked through the checkout. I was going to make a show of ensuring she was okay with paying, she didn't give me a chance.


“This is a three hundred credit skirt.” She announced once she decided we were a safe distance away. “They wanted ten for it!”


“Yeah, that's the idea.” She was shocked when I added. “They probably know.”

Thirty-Nine Tauri was only a few jumps away. She docked at Porta and declared it to be night-time. She mentioned that this would place the party at a nice, subjective 'tomorrow evening'. Then Valence turned-in for the night, this consisted of nestling into the pilot's chair and telling me to leave the cockpit. So I did.

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