“Hey Figgy,” muttered Charley, wishing there was at least a functioning bathroom where she could relieve herself and splash a little water on her face. That was something neither Betty nor FIGJAM would be able to fix.
“Plumber, nearest fix,” said Charley into her wrist pad.
Charley busied herself with tidying up as she waited for the plumber to arrive. She realized she would need to rent a toxic-grade skip to handle all the rubbish she was about to generate. She wondered if they charged extra for corpses.
The plumber arrived and gave a low whistle when he saw the state of the place. The good news was that the basic plumbing infrastructure was still intact. To repair and replace all the fixtures was going to cost well over 1000 credits. Charley paid the man a down payment of 300 on the spot and told him to get to work. Which, of course, presented the familiar problem of cash flow. FIGJAM had run out of ideas short of Charley selling her body to the night.
“Betty, can the Guildmasters lend money to any of the Nefarious Guilds?” she asked the AI.
“Who posts these jobs?” Charley asked with great interest.
“No wonder the pirates could do it with good conscience,” Charley observed. “They’re all evil.”
“Betty, can I have a look at the Guildmasters’ job board?”
A projection spurted from the ceiling and hung before Charley’s eyes. It showed all the current active jobs on the board. They ranged from assassinations to vessel takeovers to full scale raids on corporate assets. Charley scrolled through the Galveston jobs with interest. A number were waiting for more bids in the hope of a bidding war. With a frown she noticed that the Night Runner Bandit Guild were extremely active on Danderly.
Charley scrolled back to the top of the list. Without a ship, resources or crew, it was best to keep things simple. Her eye was drawn to a few assassination jobs. Some targets were Galveston businessman. Charley had no doubt that they were shady in some way and had probably gotten involved with the wrong people. But she didn’t know that for sure. There was always the slight chance that they were innocent men and women simply doing too well for themselves. Charley couldn’t help but think these were jobs the pirates would not have taken. She wished with all her heart that Silverton or Harry were around to guide her as she worked to rebuild the glory of the Pirate Guild. She decided to leave the assassination to the assassins. There would be plenty of people to kill, in time. She just had to be sure that they deserved it first.
Charley let the plumber go about his business. She was back to square one - no money, no means of getting anything done. She was about to take another look at the Guildmasters’ job board when Betty released a security chime.
“What is it, Betty?”
“Let him in, Betty,” Charley said immediately. As far as she was concerned, anyone with the Teks surname was always welcome at the Pirate Guild.
Vinnie sauntered in with a defiant posture. Today he was wearing a leather jacket and denim jeans. Hardly protective, but damn sexy. Charley couldn’t believe her eyes. She hadn’t dared hope that Vinnie would show at the Guild.
“Good to see you, Vinnie,” she said, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah, well, I thought I’d run past something past you.”
The rogue’s eyes darted to Charley’s weapons. “You look like you’re prepared to fight. That’s good. I need a partner for a job.”
Charley’s eyes narrowed. She was hoping for something else. “You wanna sign back up as a pirate first?”
Vinnie shook his head irritably. “I told you, I’m done with that shit.”
Charley’s heart sank. “Then speak. I can’t promise anything. I have work to do here.”
“Last week a freighter broke up off planet,” he explained. “Real bad. Some kind of internal explosion. All that’s left is a debris field. Problem is there’s toxic waste everywhere. Too dangerous for bandits or pirates. A salvage freighter is arriving to clean up in two days.”
Charley shrugged. “So we miss out. Some big corporation gets to clean up its own mess. What’s that got to do with us?”
“There’s a vessel in that debris field. I got a tip off from a guy with a long range scanner. It’s a small scout class vessel from the freighter. Completely intact.”
Charley found she’d been holding her breath. She pictured what it would be like to own her own vessel. Being able to go anywhere she wanted, when she wanted. It was a heavenly dream … and then she remembered who she was dealing with.
“What’s my cut?” she asked.
“I’ll give you 1500 credits after the job’s done.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Charley said with a flash of anger. “You get to keep the scout.” Charley had no idea how much such a ship was worth but she was certain it was more than 40,000 credits.
Vinnie shrugged, looking down his nose at Charley. “Take it or leave it,” he said. “Call it a finder’s fee if you like.”
It was a rotten deal, but Charley didn’t see that she had much choice. Her plumber was bound to expect more money soon and the Guild Hall wasn’t going to repair itself. Besides, she needed to start doing jobs and putting money away. She was gonna need a crew and a ship if she had a hope in hell of going up against the might of the Night Runners.
“What’s the risk?” she asked at length.
“High,” Vin said honestly. “I’ll pay for us to be airlocked from a chartered flight within range of the field. I’m also paying for our air suits and jetpacks. We’ll be carrying a seven foot barge pole each. The idea is that we turn away any toxic drum that gets too close while we maneuver to the scout. Leave the jack to me. Now you see why I get to keep the ship?”
Charley had to admit that he was throwing a lot of cash at this operation. The air suits and jetpacks alone would be near 10,000 credits. A lot to pay for such a dangerous enterprise.
“Why are you doing this?” Charley asked.
“Because everyone says it can’t be done,” Vin said with unbridled anger. Charley stared at him, wondering if the man had a death wish. Maybe he was suicidal? Maybe he wanted to join his wife in the afterlife? Whatever the case, Charley would need to be extremely wary of him. The fact that he had come to her was alarming enough. He barely knew her. Did he not have a host of friends or acquaintances he could choose from? Why her? There were too many questions for Charley’s liking, but against all her instincts she found herself nodding her head.
“I’ll do it, but for 2500,” she said. “And don’t offend me with such a bullshit offer ever again.”
To her surprise, Vin smiled. It lit up his whole face. It was beguiling and seductive. Charley had to force herself to try and ignore it.
“Deal,” he said, extending his hand. Charley took it and felt a thrill in her chest. She could’ve sworn that Vinnie was flirting with her. She snapped back to reality when he let her go.
“So …” he said a little awkwardly. “Are you ready to go?”
Charley looked at him incredulously. “You mean now?”
Vin grinned sheepishly. “Our chartered flight is waiting on the tarmac.”
“With all our gear? The suits? Jetpacks?”
“I kinda guessed your size,” he said. “I had you pegged as a go-getter.”
Charley
felt angry all of a sudden. To be taken for granted like that wasn’t a nice feeling at all. She was half inclined to tell Vinnie Teks to fuck right off.
Instead she sighed, thinking what she could do with the extra credits. Pay off the plumber and more. She just might be able to make her first down payment on her own ship. Now that would be a day to celebrate …
“Lead the way, fly-boy,” she growled. FIGJAM looked like it was about to say something but uncharacteristically decided against it. “I know,” Charley said as Vinnie headed out the door. “I don’t like this either.”
Vinnie Teks called a flyer to take them both to a private airfield just out of Galveston. Charley doubted their impending flight was legally sanctioned by a port authority but was prepared to let it slide.
The flyer let them out in a field of frosted tussocks. Their chartered vessel was a very basic two-man orbital transport. Charley had seen enough ships by now to know that it didn’t have enough bulk to be carrying a warp drive.
Their pilot was a craggy old man with one eye. Charley hoped that one eye was good enough. With growing nerves she was ushered into the rear of the craft where there was a tiny bathroom. Standing room for one person only. Except Vin dragged Charley in there and showed her the brand new air suits hanging from the wall. They were pretty standard, with no in-built systems other than oxygen flow and limited range coms. Vin began stripping down immediately, eager to be away. Charley followed his lead, though she felt a little uncomfortable undressing in front of a man she barely knew. A man she frankly found rude and belligerent. She turned away so he wouldn’t see too much. She stepped into the one-piece air suit and Vin showed her how to calibrate the various seals. He also folded over her helmet and ensured that her systems were functional. She returned the favor once she was ready. She added her utility belt last. No way she was leaving her weapons.
Fully dressed and prepped, the pair made their way into the cabin and strapped themselves in. It felt strange to be in an air suit. It granted full flexibility, so there was no problem there, but the helmet made her feel a little claustrophobic. She supposed it would take a while to get used to.
Charley noticed two jetpacks hanging on the wall near the airlock hatch. When the time came to be released, things were going to move very quickly.
“I have no space hours under my belt,” she said to Vin. He turned with a crooked smile. At the very least she was glad her coms were working.
“I have some hours clocked up,” he said. “I’ll look after you out there. Scout’s honor.”
25
Vin was trying to be charming and reassuring but it just didn’t come naturally to him. Charley felt a rising wave of anxiety as the pilot gunned the engine and had them rising through the fresh morning air.
What had she gotten herself into? It sounded all well and good to get out into this debris field and jack the scout ship that was drifting there. But the reality would be far different. If none of the other guilds were willing to touch this, why the hell was she following a man she barely knew into a potentially lethal situation? Charley already knew the answer. Because she instinctively knew that he was still a pirate. Vinnie may never admit it, but it was clear that he was still thinking like a pirate. Going where no one else wanted to. Taking risks for greater glory, greater profits. Charley was sure that this was a classic pirate operation. That’s why she was there sitting next to Vin. Because she wanted to set the highest of standards right from the start. They would get through this. They would smash this mission and she would get another chance to recruit Vinnie Teks.
The transport soared through the mesosphere and broke orbit with a minimum of fuss. The vessel’s trajectory took it to the far side of Danderly. The Galactic Academy was nowhere to be seen, in synchronous orbit on the other side of the planet. She could see the speckled cloud of junk in the distance. That must be the debris field. The transport approached at cruise speed for several minutes. Vin seemed tense and nervous, probably just as much as Charley was. She hoped he knew what he was doing.
The pilot turned and spoke to the pair.
“This is it for me,” he said as he pulled an oxygenator over his nose and mouth. “I’m not getting any closer to that field.”
“Understood, and thanks,” Vin said, gripping the man’s hand. “I’ll make the final transfer later today.”
The pilot snorted, as if that probability was around 50/50. That did nothing for Charley’s confidence.
The airlock door opened and with a shock Charley realized she was staring at naked space. She froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. Her body felt weird, not having gravity to anchor it down. Vin tapped her on the shoulder and indicated he would retrieve her jet pack first. He seemed to move well in zero gravity, which made her feel a little better.
Vin fitted Charley’s jetpack then did his own. He looked at Charley with a smile and a wink and pushed himself confidently through the airlock, his jetpack already flaring.
Charley stood on the edge of the abyss, her mind racing. Vinnie was moving the steerage bars that trailed down from the jetpack. Charley gripped hers tightly.
Charley pushed off from the airlock, her heart in her mouth. She could hear the vessel pulling away behind her. She seemed to be heading toward Vin, which was a good enough start.
It was sound advice. Charley moved her steerage bars a little, experimenting with lateral and forward movement. She found that the further she moved a bar, the greater the surge generated by the jetpack. She also worked out that she could move up or down depending on the tilt of the steerage bars. Before long she was executing semi-competent maneuvers and almost felt like she could get from A to B without too much trouble.
Vinnie, spinning gently only ten yards away, produced a baton no longer than his forearm. He extended it out into segments. At its longest it was about seven foot long.
He handed the now rigid pole to Charley, who was only just learning how to stay in a stationary position in zero gravity.
Charley had no argument against that. The debris field was a hazy, multi-colored cloud. She couldn’t even see the ship they were looking for.
She followed Vin as he propelled himself toward the debris field. Chunks of scrap metal from the doomed chemical freighter’s hull drifted past them, some of them at surprising speeds. At first the density of objects was reasonably low, and the pair had plenty of warning for approaching objects as well as ample space to move into. As the minutes dripped by, however, and they sank deeper and deeper into the field, Charley knew would soon be needing their poles.
Vin drifted under a drum that was slowly spilling its contents into the vacuum of space.
Vin hovered near one such hole and carefully picked his way through a forest of steel cable. Her heart thumping madly, Charley tried to follow in his footsteps and almost cornered herself in the maze of twisted steel. Eventually she made it through, beaming at Vin as he turned to congratulate her. Her smiled faded when she saw the toxic drum coming up behind him, spinning end over end in deceptively fast rotation. She accelerated forward, pole exte
nded like a lance, and jabbed at the drum savagely. The pole broke through the brittle material and jarred against the far side, sending ripples of pain up Charley’s arm. She held firm, sternly turning the drum away and out of danger. The leaking drum left Vin in a cloud of yellow-green vapor. He surged free of the cloud quickly, but Charley could see the toxic vapor had instantly burned his suit. Her anxiety rising, she checked Vin’s air suit and eventually gave him the all clear. The material had been scorched but not ruptured. That was too close.
Vin breathed a deep sigh of relief and continued on his way.
The pair worked slowly through the debris field, painstakingly turning drums away and assessing the toxic risk of the surrounding area. It was pathfinding at its purest. A wrong turn could easily see them smack in the middle of a toxic funk with the potential to corrode their air suits within seconds. It didn’t matter what their suit specs claimed, this stuff was industrial-grade sludge. Charley cursed herself for not asking for more money.
At length Vinnie paused and produced a pair of field nocs from his utility belt. Grinning, he handed the nocs to Charley. At first all she could see was junk, but there, behind a blood red veil of toxic vapor, lay a small ship. The scout. The nocs had picked up the outline using radar waves. She handed back the field tech.
Vin said with a slightly crazy grin.
Charley replied.
Vinnie checked his wrist pad nervously. “< got word that the salvage freighter is approaching Danderly quicker than expected. Damn thing could be here any second.>
Charley considered the situation. To go around that toxic plume would take at least twenty minutes. In the end she nodded, but only because she suspected Vin had already made his mind up.
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