The Shattered Stars: Breach of Contract

by Vance Huxley

  Fleur hesitated and now Bobby recognised her tilted head as ship communication. “Ship would like another security operative like Bells, and a close support pilot.”

  “Pilot?” Bobby didn’t like the idea of a pilot being someone ship had rebuilt, someone the ship might control. His mind flitted back to people being rebuilt to plug into machinery. “What will it do to them? Will they still be the same?” He didn’t want to mention anything specific, just yet. Hood and Magpie would go viral if they couldn’t get into each other’s underwear afterwards.

  “Pilot will fly small ships, fighters and shuttles. The controls and seating will adapt to suit her human form.” Fleur chuckled. “I am learning more new words and about new things, new machines and spaceships. I hope my head will hold it all. A shuttle will move goods and people, or collect the capsules. A fighter will….” Her words tailed off and Fleur listened, then stared at Bobby. “One fighter can destroy all the approaching fleet, unless they have really powerful weapons and shields that haven’t been detected.”

  “I’ll take the fighter, to help Hood defend the ship?” Magpie put out her arms and flapped them. “I’d like to fly.”

  “I would like being muscle, with strong legs.” Blaise put a hand to her head again. “I would really like no headache.”

  “Baiser is close support in Les Putes, was close support. Like Bells.” Fleur got that distracted look, briefly. “Ship understands.” She headed towards the hospital again. “This will take two hours even if they are not badly wounded. Ship hurried with me, because of the fighting. That is why I felt strange afterwards.”

  “I’d like you at the interview with the SEPA Trooper, Fleur.” Bobby hoped she might recognise a word or two because according to Magpie the prisoner spoke gibberish.

  “This will take a few moments, then we can leave the tables to do the rest.” Fleur flashed a smile and left.

  Siflis came over with Ecarlate and Pepee. “You don’t mind us not going in there, Beebi?”

  “No Siflis. I’m not going in there either.” Bobby debated a moment, but told them because he’d always tried to keep his squad in the loop. “I prefer some who haven’t been changed. Guns might not like dealing with the others.”

  “You are right.” Pepee frowned. “The FAC officers will not want to talk to Les Putes, any women. They will use the new metal as an excuse to break our contract, to get out of paying the bonus.” She smiled. “Not talking to Fleur might be bad.”

  Ecarlate looked unsure. “I wonder about going in there because I would come out healed, and not just where I’ve been shot. Then I think, if man is interested he will wait a few days. I think maybe Bells just wants poochy, and doesn’t really care who with.” Her grin flashed. “Sometimes I do not care either, but Fleur explained. Just now I have no orders to pooch anyone so maybe there’s no hurry. I like having no officer, no Legion.” Her grin faded a little. “I liked those swords but Bells said leave them.” Her smile strengthened. “I’ll get them back when I can pooch.”

  Bobby smirked. “I only ever saw one Legion.”

  “Where?” Ecarlate spoke but Pepee looked interested. Siflis smiled.

  “When I was a Timer, in a house near the Rotterdam refinery, just after I shot him.”

  “After? You shot him before seeing him? Was he dead?” Ecarlate sounded almost breathless with anticipation.

  Yes meant they both wanted the story. Siflis helped to fill in, and Bobby found out Trooper Chiennes in general didn’t just not like Legion, the women hated them. They liked officers less, but not by a lot, and both of them loved the idea of Bobby and Hood topping so many French ones. The dislike of Legion came from two things, the first being that Legion officers were allowed to treat the female Troopers as Divas if none were available. The second reason really burned because no matter how long they served or how good they were, female Troopers could never become Legion. Every single one of the women coming on the rocket would be like Les Putes, they’d either served long enough or killed enough enemies to be promoted to Legion if they were a man.

  That worried Bobby and he said so, because Beebi’s Basteds were only Troopers. Siflis laughed, pointing out the same had to be true of the Bigger Basteds. Maybe a few of the newer ones hadn’t killed enough yet, but the shite jobs Beebi’s Basteds did would probably get half the Squaddies killed. Half the Basteds were definitely over their ten years, and the original squad had just reached their ten and also killed enough people to be promoted early. Fleur arrived in the middle of the discussion and agreed with the conclusion. Both groups were too useful doing their job to be ever promoted. They also agreed the other blocks had probably sent their own bad boys or girls, to get round the Trooper restriction. That made upgrading Baiser to internal security muscle a bledrin good idea.

  The three unmodified Troopers went with Hood to dismantle barricades and check the open bins. If the contents hadn’t spoiled they’d be sealed again since the upgraded crew could open them as often as necessary. Bobby and Fleur went to see the prisoner but found exchanging ideas difficult. By the time they left him again to greet Magpie and Baiser, they’d managed a name and rank. Gocho seemed to mean corporal since he’d had two superiors and three below him in their group. Samurai, his name, seemed content to be a prisoner though he worried about a missing item. They’d work on that next time.

  Baiser and Magpie were easy to deal with when they woke up because they’d known upfront. They’d undressed before getting onto the tables, and Magpie quickly put on her strategic underwear when she woke up. Baiser put on underwear when Bobby mentioned it though like the rest of those who’d been upgraded neither seemed bothered by lack of clothes. The two of them sat on a pair of the small seats the room seemed to produce to order. Baiser wanted armour like Bells. Magpie wanted to put on her short skirt for Hood instead of her uniform, now she’d got her legs back.

  Neither were thrown by Fleur or ship speaking in their heads, though Magpie still worried about her thoughts being overheard. Fleur promised that she couldn’t read Magpie’s thoughts, and repeated that ship had disconnected when asked last night. At that Magpie smirked at Bobby and headed for her rooms and skirt, presumably before looking for Hood.

  Baiser went to get armed and armoured. The scales on her sleeker armour formed intricate patterns in shades of red and gold, and her blades looked more elegant than those Bells chose but still numerous and lethal. She set off to relieve Bells but instead of taking the walkway the blonde ran the two miles, simply because she could. Fleur confided that Baiser had been a superb runner before having her legs cut off, and hadn’t been able to get the same speed out of the new ones. The metal legs had thrown her balance and rhythm off but from the way she accelerated away down the corridor, ship had cured that. Bobby and Fleur went to the bog room for water, and then to a room with bins for food.

  * * *

  “You should be in command now. You can contact everyone who’s been upgraded, and I can’t talk to the Putes on my coms. If I give you my coms and take the ones Bells won’t need, you can reach everyone and that makes more sense.” Bobby glanced at Fleur, chewing one of the cheese sticks.

  She finished the stick, thinking about it, then shook her head. “When the rest arrive the Chiennes will be four or five squads commanded by their officers, all men and women we never worked with before. Beebi’s Basteds are one unit and used to working without an officer, with you in charge. All the corporals will take your orders, but none of the FAC officers will pay attention to me.”

  Bobby grinned. “The Chiennes won’t pay attention to me either.”

  “They’ll have to.” Fleur picked a piece of meat out of a cold bin, held it briefly between the palms of her hands, then tore it in half. She handed one piece to Bobby. “Mi-saignant, medium rare.” Real mischief showed in her smile. “I think we can show why they should listen.” Then she sobered again. “We need a human in charge, in the ship.”

  “You are still human. You just ate a cheese stick
and cooked your steak, so you’re not a machine. There’s other hints.” Bobby grinned and Fleur grinned back, then shrugged.

  “You know that, all of us here know that, but they will see the wires from my wrist and the legs with no join, and the doors that open without touching.” Fleur sounded a little bitter, but she had a point. “Control cut off our legs and fingers and gave us metal, then told us we were still Troopers. They will not accept that ship made a better job of repairing their butchery. They will believe ship controls us.”

  “Can the ship control you?”

  “I have asked because I worried, at first. When the rest of Ship wakes up, I will get a proper explanation, or so I’m told. The small part of Ship I can talk to is confused about why it would want to control crew. Crew must act under orders but without Ship controlling their minds, or they will not operate efficiently. Ship can stop the powered weapons from operating if a crew member tries to destroy or damage Ship, but cannot stop the crew member. Ship cannot kill lifeforms once inside, unless an authorised crew member orders it.” She smiled. “That is why Ship couldn’t stop the fighting, and why I became the Internal Security Officer.”

  “So you can stop any fighting now?” Bobby chuckled and waggled his fingers. “I know you can like this, but what if you aren’t there?”

  “I have two others to help now and I don’t need my hand or this gun.” Fleur pointed. “Look out of the door.” Bobby did and one of those invisible, seamless wall hatches opened to let a laser on a swivel slide out. It turned smoothly to point up and down the corridor, then slid back into the wall. “When it does that, I can see what the laser does and tell it to fire. I can look around corners and inside rooms but I need to be close. About….” Her brow furrowed in concentration. “Ship is translating, and the distance is one hundred and thirty-two metres. The map in my head will show me the dots, which tell me where everyone is on the ship. They are coloured friend or enemy or unknown. Ship used to have one hundred and fifty-four internal security operatives to cover everywhere. Muscle.”

  “So Bells can do that with the lasers?” Bobby swung his finger back and forth as if aiming.

  “No, just me.” Fleur finished her meat. “I am not as hungry now, since my upgrade.”

  “But still human because you eat, and went into the bog?”

  “I even used toilette, and have asked Ship to alter them. Using the dog bowl and then a sink for disposal is not the best way.” She laughed. “Those dishes are external detector shields, to prevent any space dust leaking through the shields from abrading the instruments at light-plus.” Fleur stopped, and then repeated her last words as a question. “Light-plus?”

  “Beats me. I’m sure one of those space games Siflis likes said faster than light isn’t possible but maybe Ship means something else?” Bobby looked around at the bins, the door panels, the sheer strangeness of the place. “I’m willing to believe?” He shrugged. “Until then, if you need food and a toilet you aren’t a machine.”

  “But I worry, so you will not mind if sometimes I want you to tell me I am human?”

  “I can do that and Magpie and Hood can reassure each other.” Bobby sniggered. “I’m not sure Bells cares.”

  “Nor Baiser. Perhaps Siflis and Ecarlate can reassure them, or Pepee?” Fleur frowned, then a little smile appeared. “Baiser and Bells have met, but are taking a long time over changing shifts. Maybe Baiser wants to test all her new equipment?”

  “Will that cause problems, with Ecarlate?” Bobby thought about the wording when Ecarlate refused an upgrade. “She seemed to think that might happen, Bells ending up with someone else.”

  “We, all the female Troopers, don’t expect a man to want more than poochy. Ecarlate and Baiser aren’t under orders any more, so they can pooch who they want to. If both want poochy with Bells they’ll share. Your Hood and Magpie are lucky. Except for one or two who have the right officer we will never know a man who wants us, not just the poochy.” Fleur glanced at Bobby with a shy smile. “Maybe.” She stood. “Come, you must talk to your Guns if they are near enough, and Aggie will allow it.”

  “Good idea though maybe the main rocket won’t allow direct contact. We’d best get our spacesuits.” Bobby grinned. “Do you need one?”

  “Yes, I need air so I am human.” Fleur looked very happy about using a spacesuit, happier than Bobby felt about putting the stinking bledrin thing on again.

  * * *

  Once they were suited, nothing indicated that Fleur had changed in any way because the patched suit covered everything but her face. Though the suit didn’t stop her opening and closing doors without needing to touch. Except the airlock, that needed a physical pull or push to avoid mistakes she told Bobby. As they waited for the airlock to cycle Fleur touched helmets. “There are airlocks big enough to take the whole mothership rocket and the capsules, according to Ship.”

  “No, I don’t want the capsules with extra weapons or the main rockets inside here. I’m not sure what Control might have built into them.” Bobby rethought his first reaction and expanded. “We’ll insist the Troopers disarm out there after the capsules eject them. The Basteds and Chiennes come in unarmed for Bells and Baiser to check them over.”

  Fleur smirked. “The rest can go into a cargo airlock, disarmed and legless until you have met our own people and explained. Then your Guns can decide.”

  “Your officers as well.”

  Dark humour coloured Fleur’s voice. “We may not have many officers once Les Chiennes know what has happened, especially if there are no carbins or shotguns for the sergeant-chef to protect them with.” Her voice brightened. “The hatch is free.”

  Bobby pushed the handle. “Do the stars look different? Are your eyes upgraded?”

  “Why? Do my eyes look different?” Fleur sounded worried again. “Did you look at them? What colour are they?”

  “Dark brown, very pretty, and no I can’t see any difference.” Bobby turned so their touching helmets were face to face and he looked right into two definitely frightened brown eyes. “Don’t be frightened, they look exactly the same.” He could see her relief, though Fleur still looked worried.

  “But they are different. Ship is telling me now. I didn’t need to know before, but I can see different wavelengths if I need to.” Her voice dropped so Bobby had difficulty hearing through the touching helmets. “I don’t want to, not yet.”

  Bobby had a simple way to change the subject. “You don’t need to if we only want to talk to Aggie.”

  The connection worked perfectly. Aggie accepted Bobby’s message but confirmed she couldn’t talk directly to the approaching rockets, only through the mothership but that would pass the messages on. “Report received and stored for transmission. Four messages waiting for Trooper Sergeant Three Bobby B. Prepare to record messages.”

  “Trooper Sergeant Bobby B recording.”

  “Message one: Area Manager Gunnar Eriksson. Well done Beebi. Arrival in approximately one hundred and thirty hours. Please arrange access for TRRF and auxiliaries with heavy weaponry. How large is the airlock, and can you guide us in and maintain control of the area? Out.”

  “Message received and recorded.”

  "Message two: Area Manager Gunnar Eriksson. Arrival in approximately one hundred and ten hours. Please arrange access for TRRF and auxiliaries with heavy weaponry. How large is the airlock, and can you guide us in and maintain control of the area?” The message paused. “UKs and FAC contract confirmed, depending on your continuing Alliance and control of ship bridge and access to ship. Please confirm chain of command and personnel, how long you expect food and water to last, and details of opposition with weaponry if possible. Talk to me Beebi. Out.”

  The report had covered most of the last part, though Bobby had left out the upgrading or the food. He’d said they’d found a source of water that tested pure, and confirmed that all the wounded were still able to fight. He’d also left out any mention of the prisoner in case quietly topping the SEPA Trooper
seemed the simplest solution. “Second message received and recorded.”

  “Message three: This is UKs Control. You will defend the bridge and utilise the FAC Allies to do so. We advise keeping access to the bridge itself confined to UKs Troopers. If an opportunity occurs to take control of the engine rooms, you must do so. You will not be held responsible for damage to equipment or loss of personnel while doing so or breaking ISSCIC-COSSO-SEPA Alliance. Please preserve the remains of Supervisor McKay and FAC Superviseur Raymonde Kleber for investigation into deaths. Out.”

  “Third message received and recorded.”

  “Message four: This is UKs Control. Essential you respond to confirm Alliance and continued control of bridge and airlock. You will defend the bridge and utilise the FAC Allies to do so. We advise keeping access to the bridge itself confined to UKs Troopers. If an opportunity occurs to take control of the engine rooms, you must do so. You will not be held responsible for damage to equipment or loss of personnel while doing so or breaking ISSCIC-COSSO-SEPA Alliance. Essential you preserve the remains of Supervisor McKay and FAC Superviseur Raymonde Kleber. Out. End of messages.”

  “Fourth message received and recorded.” Bobby cut the link. “Great, they think we killed our Supers, and want to make sure our allies don’t get a fair share of the prize.”

  “We did kill a Super, one of them. We could lose the bodies, all the bodies if we throw them out of the airlock and say the ship took them?”

  “I’d rather not lose Mickey’s. He died right and deserves a proper funeral with all the bulsh.” Bobby laughed. “He really will get metal. Metal Mickey.”

  “Maybe we won’t quite seal the other bin, so our Super spoils a little. He was a stinker alive, so that would be right.” Fleur didn’t seem to be joking.

  “Seal him in a room first because I don’t fancy the smell, though three days might not be enough for him to rot.” Bobby shrugged. “I’ll give Mickey a space burial if you really want to lose the other body?”