Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (64 page)

Stephanie stood behind Frost, burying a
smile under a scowl, tapping her foot.

“She’s right behind me,” Frost grumbled,
“isn’t she?”

Minh nodded sagely.

“I hate you,” Frost said to Minh-Chu with
narrowed eyes. “Wee pilot.”

Minh, Jake, and several other crewmen at
tables on either side of them burst into laughter.

Even Stephanie couldn’t help it, and gave
Frost a showy, sloppy kiss. “You get the rest of the ship finished,
soundproof the first officer’s quarters, and then we’ll see about
midnight manoeuvres,” she said when they finished. She sat in his
lap and regarded Jake. “Ash is trolling. Booty trap she calls
it.”

“All right,” Jake said. “How many people are
watching?”

“Five within a few second’s reach and we
have a squad listening in,” Stephanie replied.

Minh was afraid to ask. He didn’t have to,
Stephanie could tell that he was wondering and seemed happy to
quietly explain. “She’s letting people buy her drinks and using a
cheap scanner to read their comms, and get all their biometrics
when they get close.”

“She’ll be all right?” Jake asked.

“Have you seen her fend them off when she
hits the town?” Stephanie said. “All she has to do is play pretty,
let them talk to her long enough and then say no thank you. Someone
tries to grab her or do anything else that looks stupid? Well,
we’ll take care of it. There are only two exits in this place, it’s
perfect.”

“Whose idea?” asked Jake.

“Hers,” Stephanie said. “I think she wants
to be fawned over for a bit, and wants to feel useful. Either way,
she’s on the clock.”

Agameg was visibly concerned, shifting in
his seat, his eyes slimmed to slits and the cilia on his face
ruffling back and forth.

“I must have done it eight or nine times
when we last privateered,” Stephanie reassured Agameg. “And that
was before we had real marines aboard.”

“But you are a warrior,” Agameg said.
“Ashley can only defend herself in arguments.”

Minh spotted her then, leaning over an
entertainment console styled like an ancient jukebox. The large
sidearm she’d been given bounced as she idly moved her hips to the
beat of a musical collage of sound. The hem of her mini-dress
seemed too short, even with a thin vacsuit underneath. Heads were
turning. Ashley rolled a red slip of platinum over the back of her
fingers as she browsed the selection. It slipped over her little
finger then bounced off the edge of the machine and fell to the
floor.

Before she could look at it, a tall, blonde
man in a loose work suit marked with a Reittenheim logo on the back
bent down and handed it to her with a big smile. Ashley dropped it
into the machine and pushed one of the old clunky buttons. The
bar’s lighting shifted to blue and holographic water serpents
danced above their heads. The sounds of distorted string
instruments and slow, steady percussion filled the space.

Ashley followed the tall work suit clad man
to the bar. “She got one,” Stephanie said. She wasn’t facing Ashley
but she could hear her through her earpiece. “What’s the logo on
his vacsuit, Minh?”

“Reittenheim,” he replied.

“Now if Ashley knows what she’s doing,”
Stephanie said, waiting for something to appear on her command unit
as she shielded the small screen with her hand.

Minh watched as she stopped the man in the
work suit by touching his hand, said a few words that he nodded to
and walked on to the bar without him. “There it is,” Stephanie said
quietly but with great triumph. “Got everything on his comm with no
encryption. Did he follow her to the bar?”

“No,” Minh said, a little mystified. “He sat
back down.”

“Good girl,” Stephanie grinned.

Agameg looked up from his own command unit
with a look of surprise. “Reittenheim is a salvage company.
Stellarnet says they’ve been looting human colonies that were
ruined or abandoned because of machines infected with the Holocaust
Virus.”

“And we know where his ship’s been, where
it’s going, how many are aboard, their armaments, everything,”
Stephanie said. “I just had to do a cross search with the port
bulletin boards and the Stellarnet using his ident and the name of
his ship.”

Minh watched as another patron approached
Ashley where she was swaying to the music at the bar. “I wonder
what she said to the corporate stooge to shake him off,” Minh
wondered idly.

“She told him she was an issyrian shifted
into the shape of a human,” Jake replied. “I’m listening in, it’s
hilarious.”

“Some people are squeamish,” Frost offered
with a shrug.

Agameg straightened in his seat. “I never
understood why some of my people seek out intimate human
companionship.” He looked to Minh, who seemed to be the only one
listening. “I like humans, but I don’t liiike humans.” As he
finished his remark, he momentarily rounded his features and
flushed a rosy colour, looking strangely amorous.

“Of all the weird shapes I’ve seen you take,
that’s the hardest to look at,” Frost commented.

“I’ll do it again if you don’t order me
another bottle of sake. I’ve never tried it before, it’s good.”

“So you’ve said,” Frost replied.

Agameg started to turn a shade of pink.

Frost moved Stephanie off his lap and headed
for the bar. “Another bottle coming up,” he said over his
shoulder.

“Humans,” Agameg remarked with a too-wide
smile.

“Ever since you came out of your shell
you’ve been ten times the fun, Price,” Stephanie remarked. “Aggie
here used to be shy, for a little over a year, I think.”

“Price?” Minh-Chu asked. The name didn’t
sound issyrian.

“It’s my human name. I can’t spell my pod
name in any of your languages,” Agameg explained as he helped Jake
unload his order from the returning waiter. There were two pitchers
of red draft for each of the tables with Warlord crew sitting at
them, a tall, cold bottle of a drink called Epriselle, and a green
bottle of High Menthe. Liqueur and beer glasses filled the rest of
the space on the two trays. “Your round next,” Jake said to
Minh-Chu.

“Sure, as long as I can get creative,” he
replied. “I’m wondering, how did she defeat his comm’s
encryption?”

“She didn’t,” Jake answered. “Most command
and communication modules stay decrypted as long as they’re
touching their owner. They have defences against scanning at a
distance and wireless hacks, but she actually touches the scanner
to their comm units so most of them think it’s her being
friendly.”

Minh shook his head in mild admiration.
“Note to self: don’t let strange women touch your comm unit.”

“Why does she call it a booty trap?” Agameg
asked. “I’ve seen human entertainment that featured honey traps,
and booby traps, and she seems equipped for both, but I’ve never
heard of a booty trap.”

“That’s Ash’s adjustment,” Stephanie
replied. “Her thinking is that she doesn’t have to get them into
bed to get all their secrets, so it’s a booty trap.”

When Minh-Chu looked back to the bar where
Ashley was leaning, an androgynous, large crewman in a Reittenheim
vacsuit was leaning against the bar beside her. He watched as they
spoke for a few moments. He could tell that Ashley was just
humouring the newcomer, how he missed it he couldn’t imagine. The
crewman’s hand slowly moved behind Ashley, finally coming to rest
on the stretched hem of her dress, where it playfully tugged
upwards, revealing nothing but his intentions - thankfully. Minh
hadn’t been angry - truly angry - for a long time, but it hit him
in a flash.

“Easy, lad,” Frost warned. “She’s handled
worse.”

Ashley seized the crewman’s wrist and yanked
it up behind his back, forcing him to bend over the bar. Minh could
hear Ashley’s sudden prisoner apologize from where he was, over ten
metres away. Other patrons applauded as she let the crewman go and
he left, massaging his shoulder.

“See that?” Stephanie said with no small
measure of pride. “I taught her that move when we first met, and
she pulled it off as well as any marine and she scanned that
thing’s comm while she had him pinned.”

“Maybe not quite as well,” Frost
corrected.

“Well enough.”

Minh still wanted to exact his own revenge
against the crewman, but took a deep breath then let it out
slowly.

“You okay over there?” Stephanie asked with
a mischievous smile.

“Imagination magnifies distress when we
watch from a helpless distance,” Minh replied.

“Hey! That’s Inoshu!” cried Joyboy.
“Right?”

Minh pointed to his nose, to Joyboy, then
back to his nose.

“Hey! I got one!” Joyboy said, raising his
glass.

“Not a really old one,” Pisser said. “That
philosopher only died what, seventy years ago?”

“Still, I don’t see anyone else tagging
Ronin’s quotes,” Joyboy shot back.

“High points for you, then,” Megan, said,
clapping him on the shoulder.

“Do you want to listen?” Stephanie offered,
pointing to her ear. “She’s actually settling in and getting
social.”

“I’m good,” Minh answered. Listening to
Ashley turn down several men, and who knew what else, as she
lounged by the bar wasn’t his idea of fun. “I’m sure she’s safe in
your hands.”

“If I weren’t hearing it for myself I
wouldn’t believe it,” Jake said. “She’s had two drinks and she’s
scanned four comms. Three were unencrypted. It’s intimidating.”

“Tell me about it,” Minh-Chu agreed.

“I have an idea,” Jake said. “Why don’t we
Minh you next time. What do you think, Steph?”

Stephanie looked Minh-Chu up and down,
joined by Agameg. “Yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “Put him in a
casual vacsuit - maybe a spray on - and I could definitely see him
pulling.”

“That’s not funny,” Minh-Chu retorted,
laughing nervously. “We wore spray-ons when we were in training.
There’s
nowhere
to hide in one of those. I’d have to borrow
that mini-dress so I could have a shred of modesty left.” The
tables exploded at the notion.

Thankfully, turning away barroom callers
came to an end when Ashley started simply talking to different
people around her. Most of the chummy patrons were men, but a few
women were glad to share a few drinks and company. It was slower
going, but she managed to download the contents of six more comm
units.

“So, Ronin,” said Joyboy. “I’ve looked at
all the training briefs you put together about privateering. You
ever do caravan busting?”

“Caravan busting?” Minh asked. “Never heard
of it.”

“Some of it’s a lot like taking down-“

“Showing superiority,” Minh corrected.
“We’re not looking to destroy our targets.”

“Right, but yeah, some of the tactics in
your briefs are a lot like caravan busting. Something I got to do a
few times for the Dens.”

“That wasn’t in your records,” Minh replied
with interest.

“Well, I was just another hired hand for the
Den family. Nothing exciting, just flew an old Arrest Mark Nine
Patrol Fighter and played harasser.”

“It’s still experience,” Minh said. Joyboy
wasn’t the most socially graceful person he’d ever met, but he was
a good pilot. It was too bad he would be reassigning him when they
returned to Tamber. “Think you could put some info together about
your caravan breaking days?”

Joyboy seemed genuinely surprised, then
smiled slowly. “Yeah, if you think it’ll help.”

“It could. Just send it to me first. I’ll
have to make sure what we use fits into our current
strategies.”

“Thanks,” Joyboy said. “Oh, and I was
wondering about something, but I hope you don’t think I’m dense for
asking.”

“There are no stupid questions,” Minh
replied, hoping Joyboy wouldn’t prove him wrong in front of tables
full of crewmembers.

“Well, I know materializers are expensive,
but the Order of Eden just swallowed up Regent Galactic, and that’s
a huge corp with tons of cash. They could afford to build as many
materializers as they want.”

“Yeah,” broke in Pisser. “Why ship all this
stuff from their main worlds?”

Minh-Chu thought for a moment and was about
to answer when Agameg offered an explanation instead. “Quality,
quantity, cost, and efficiency,” Agameg said. “When we were
defending the Trition, a lot of us were using rifles that were
assembled with parts from materializers. While they were nice and
light, they weren’t as durable and they started falling apart after
three or so hours of intensive use.”

“Yup,” agreed one of the Warlord Marines.
“The flash shielding and my muzzle were toast on my pulse rifle
after the first day. We had to wrap the open chamber with torn up
strips from vacsuits to stop them from interfering with the
comms.”

“Exactly,” Agameg said. “Some of the best
food I’ve had comes from materializers too, but that eats up so
much power and water that it’s less expensive and more efficient to
grow or ship food in whenever you can.”

“What about our medical materializers?”
asked Joyboy, pointing to his bulky military grade arm unit.

“They use water and recycled solid waste
from your vacsuit with bulk matter in a small compartment,
otherwise these things wouldn’t be able to fabricate much of
anything,” said one of the marines behind him. “Read the bloody
manual, it’s right there.”

“Sorry, I’ve been busy learning about my
Uriel starfighter,” Joyboy shot back. “Didn’t have much time to
watch a series of docs about my C and C.”

“Pilots,” commented a second marine, a woman
with a shaved head.

“Easy,” Minh-Chu warned quietly. “Same
side.”

“Next round’s on you Chavez,” Stephanie told
her bald marine.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Chavez acknowledged.

“Right,” Agameg continued. “Does that answer
your questions?”

“I guess,” Joyboy answered. “To be honest,
before I was on the Triton I think I’d seen one materializer in my
entire life. Used to break down all the time, too.”