The alarm started wailing through his thoughts. Sag stood up calmly and put away his food, and for a second the only thing Audacity saw was the calm, cool, and collected Sector General physician used to emergencies and loud sirens. His heart clenched with badly-timed desire, but he shoved the feeling back when Carthage began spewing warnings.
“Colonial Military border patrol ship, headed to intercept us.”
“Sag, find the medical deck. Carthage will help you—go out that door.”
“Are we running from a border patrol ship?” Sag asked, the alarms not seeming to register with him at all, as if he heard them every day.
Audacity froze, ignoring the updates from the crew about their locations and battle readiness.
“We’re pirates, Sag. Did you miss that part?”
Sag’s jaw dropped. “Pirates? I thought you were a black market trader or something!”
“What the hell do you think a ‘black market trader’ is? For fuck’s sake, I don’t have time for this!”
Audacity ran for the bridge, leaving Sag in the mess to figure things out on his own.
Derrik was already there, sitting at the weapons console. Carthage could, for the most part, take care of herself in a direct attack, but these situations required the finesse of human creativity that no AI had yet mastered. Audacity slid into the nav station and checked the data. Running from the military ship turned out not to be an option, not at that close range (and Audacity wondered where the hell the ship had popped out from), so he calmed navigation down and told Carthage to prepare for a possible inspection.
Carthage had a reputation, but it was not as a pirate. Her exploits in that arena were generally hidden under the name The Widowmaker, which had been Miriam’s idea years ago when they had first turned from dodgy cargo hauler to pirate. Carthage was still on the books as a cargo hauler with the Colonial government, but there were rumors going around about how The Widowmaker was Helos class, so Audacity figured it was not too long before someone put two and two together, although they were lucky in the meantime that there were enough decommissioned Helos ships flying around after the war that Carthage could pass for normal. It helped that Carthage maintained a “low bloodshed” policy; their computer engineer, Factor, wiped the memory drives of the ships they boarded; and everyone who participated in a boarding wore a face mask and used a fake name when around the hostages. Killing people outside of defensive measures was rarely necessary. The crew would still be up for treason, murder, and piracy if they ever got caught, so it was not exactly a protective measure so much as it was Carthage and her strange morality. Audacity suspected she had a secret fondness for living a double life and fooling the Colonials with her games, but he never called her on it because he did not want her to strand him in port somewhere if she got in a snit.
That did not mean border patrols weren’t dangerous, especially with Carthage carrying a hold full of valuables stripped off a private cruise ship of rich business magnates. Audacity knew that in the wake of that action, Colonial patrols were stopping everyone they came across. Whether they would search Carthage depended on how well the fake manifest and travel records Factor cooked up withstood inspection.
He did not even bother to check on Sag’s whereabouts, knowing Carthage would tell him if the doctor was anywhere he was not supposed to be. Instead he focused on communicating nicely with the first lieutenant of the other ship and sounding genuinely distressed about the news of the terrible, terrible acts of piracy going on one sector over. Derrik rolled his eyes but sounded just as frightened as a civilian weapons master should, and they thought they were in the clear until the actual captain of the military vessel suddenly joined the discussion and demanded that they allow for a visual inspection.
The docking was a little bumpy, Carthage purposely playing dumb AI for the Colonials. Most of the crew stood along the boarding hall, waiting for the Colonials to walk on, and Audacity gave them all a warning look. Their cargo was well disguised, but this would still be touch-and-go. They’d avoided fighting off any military boarding for years, and Audacity wanted to keep it that way, and not just because the odds were good that they would be decimated. He liked his life with Carthage and did not want to lose what little piece of the universe he had found some measure of happiness in. It was a selfish reason, but he was comfortable with that.
“Captain Gunner.” The Colonial rep, Major Haven, saluted formally. She stood with five soldiers, and the hallway was cramped. Crisp and stern in her uniform, she radiated official distrust. “We apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Thanks, it’s okay. With those pirates out there, can’t be too careful,” Audacity said, using his most sincere voice. Major Haven nodded perfunctorily, then motioned for the tour to begin. Miriam took the lead, but Audacity stayed close. The rest of the crew scattered as unobtrusively as possible to get in place if everything went sour, so it was Haven, Miriam, Audacity, and the security detail tramping about the ship for nearly an hour. Haven was a hard sell, and Audacity figured they were five minutes from her seizing the ship. Even Carthage’s well-played stupidity did not counter the major’s suspicions.
“And this?” She waved a hand at the small stairwell in front of them.
“As I’m sure you know, this leads to the standard Helos-class medical deck,” Miriam answered cheerfully. Audacity hoped he was the only one who noticed her trying not to roll her eyes.
“Which I’m sure is fully stocked with legal and registered medicines,” Major Haven said sarcastically.
“Of course it is. Are you impugning my professional ethics, Major?” Sag appeared from the dark of the galley, apparently familiar enough with Colonial insignia to spot Haven’s rank at a glance. He was still in his slacks and sweater but had found an old, white medical jacket to throw on top. He stood with his hands in the pockets of the jacket, looking completely at ease as he faced off the major.
She was thrown for all of a half second, along with Audacity, before she rallied. “Of course not, Doctor…?”
“Doctor Sagittarius Diefenbaker, former CMO of Down Disco Bar and Grill.”
Haven blinked. “Good Doctor Diefenbaker, formerly of Sector General?”
Sag raised his eyebrows but nodded. Major Haven snapped to attention and gave him a crisp salute. The marines with her were on their toes, following her example with barely a pause and without registering surprise.
“Do I know you?” Sag asked, hands still in his pockets, his expression only mildly curious.
Haven finished the salute and shook her head. “No, sir, but I was at the Siege of Monticello.”
“Ah.” Sag nodded, his expression grim. Audacity and Miriam shared a look; neither of them had heard of it, Audacity was sure of that.
“We thank God for Sector General, sir, and your leadership during the extraction.”
“I just stayed in the hospital and did my job, Major, but I appreciate your gratitude.” He held out his hand. Major Haven took it with a wide, watery grin, looking ten years younger. It was only then that Audacity saw the lattice of scars down the back of her neck.
“It’s odd to find you here, sir.” She spoke respectfully but gave Audacity a suspicious glance. It occurred to him that maybe she thought they had kidnapped Sag, and he frowned.
“I decided to travel, Major. Sector General is a stressful appointment, as I’m sure you’re aware. I thought Down Disco would be a change of scenery, but I found a little too much on the outlaw side, despite the lucrative contract. Gunner here”—Sag waved a lazy hand at Audacity—“offered me a chance to wander for a while, with a promise of eventually heading to Atlantis.”
The story sold Haven, who gave Sag another smile. “Of course, sir, totally understandable. Down Disco is not the right place for a licensed doctor, by my reckoning. I’m sure you’ll find a more suitable position for a man of your standing when you get to Atlantis.” She turned to Audacity. “Well, Captain, you take care of our hero, here. I think we’re done, if you w
ould escort us back to our ship.”
Audacity knew the marines had the way back memorized, even if Haven didn’t, but he smiled and nodded, waving Miriam off. The walk to the entry hall was much pleasanter, and the patrol ship gave them a hearty, friendly goodbye with orders to call them directly should any trouble come up in their travels. They even provided Derrik with a special override sequence to cut through communications bands in an emergency. Derrik stared at the screen as if it had suddenly turned into a snake, but thanked them gratefully. Audacity sat down at his own station.
“Don’t ask, I’ll explain later. Just let me angle us out of here on as benign a trajectory as I can get.”
Derrik nodded, keeping his mouth shut while Audacity played fast and loose with his navigation. When they were far enough out from the Colonial border patrol ship that Carthage stopped acting dumb, Audacity walked off the bridge without another word and headed for the medical deck.
He stopped at the bottom of the short stairwell, where the entrance hall turned abruptly left, then opened onto the deck. It was a small room, big enough for one examination bed and a rolling stool, which was where Sag was perched, looking down into an open drawer. He did not react to Audacity’s appearance and kept at his counting, his long, dexterous fingers floating over the drawer’s contents. Audacity tried not to stare at the doctor’s beautiful hands, or handsome face, or anything else that would make him no better than Kyoto.
“Seems like you have one hell of a reputation.”
Sag looked up at, surprised by the interruption. He thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Monticello was a bad battle at a worse time. Most of the chief medical staff were off-station on a training symposium; I was just one of the people on the committee left in charge of Sector General while they were gone. Then in the middle of third shift, we started getting cruisers popping out of hyperspace loaded with wounded.” He shook his head. “Total chaos.”
“I’ve never even heard of that battle.”
“Few have, I guess. Part of the expansion out in the Gamma quadrant—some very nasty and territorial non-humanoids are not happy about the imperial aspirations of the Colonies.”
That much Audacity had heard of, but only rumors and small news stories. Obviously, a lot of things were being kept out of the public eye. Not that he blamed the Colonial government for that; they were probably just trying to avoid a panic. Sag brought his thoughts back to the moment by sighing heavily.
“I made some enemies with a few of my decisions, but my goal was to save lives, not pander to outsized egos. I just want to be a doctor, not an administrator, and what we went through that day convinced me of it. People were bleeding out in the hallways, and I had surgeons bitching to me about seniority.” He snorted angrily, giving Audacity another lazy wave. “So I looked around and took the position at Down Disco.”
“But not the position Kyoto wanted you in.”
Sag gave him a frown. “Not that, no. But his prurient interests took a few months to develop. Anyway, that’s history now. Just like everything else.” He returned to counting.
“I still owe you some gratitude.”
“You do?” Sag asked absently, checking the label on a small glass vial.
“That major had it in for us; she was just looking for probable cause. You saved our asses. She left happy, and I suspect her report on Carthage is going to keep the officials off our back for a while to come, whether you’re actually on board or not.”
Sag nodded again, still at his task. “So where is this fine pirate ship headed now?”
Audacity did not like the tone of his voice but was still feeling grateful about avoiding being killed or arrested or both, so he let it slide. “Utopia. We have cargo to unload.”
“I suppose I’ll be getting off there, then.”
“You won’t get far without money.”
“I have money. My main account is with MedBanc; Kyoto was blocking my access to it, but the funds are safe enough. Last I checked.”
There wasn’t much Audacity could argue with there. MedBanc was a huge interplanetary bank for hospitals and doctors and medical professionals, and while it probably did not have a branch on Utopia, Audacity knew there were financial shops with ties to the bank.
“Sounds like a plan, then.”
“I think so.” Sag closed the drawer and opened the one under it. He partially turned away from Audacity, a subtle dismissal, and Audacity’d had enough. He stepped forward, grabbed Sag’s wrist, and held it tight.
“Dammit, I’m trying to thank you for helping us out of a tight spot.”
Sag’s dark blue eyes gazed up at him, unflinching. “You’re welcome.”
Audacity let go and stepped back, frustrated to the point of just turning around and walking out on the conversation, or maybe grabbing Sag by his jacket and kissing him to death. Sag continued staring, his eyes boring into Audacity, probably seeing more than Audacity wanted to admit. His attraction to Sag was raw and genuine and gaining strength the more he found out about the serious-minded, competent doctor, but he knew it was also unwelcome. He shook his head.
“Not trying to start anything with you, okay? We have a deal. We’re taking you to Utopia, free and clear; you paid your passage by getting Dos out of the brig, but that deal did not include lying your ass off to the Colonial military. Thank you. That’s all. Thanks.”
Sag nodded once, paused, then tapped his fingers on the counter. “I’ll inventory your supplies, throw out what’s bad, and make a list of what you need to buy to stock up.”
Audacity stood there, unsure of what to say, because Sag kept moving the game on him. Instead he turned around and left him to his sorting.
UTOPIA was not convenient by design. It was a planet in a system on the far side of nowhere, floating in the line between two free-space quadrants. Like Down Disco, it was independent of Colonial oversight, but unlike Down Disco, it had its own civilian proto-government that kept the place on the razor edge of anarchy. Legend said it was a failed colony started by a bunch of peace activists who thought they could farm their way to enlightenment, but in Audacity’s experience it was simply a third world with a highly dubious gilded layer on top. The trip there from out of Down Disco was three calendar weeks, given no downtime for repairs, and with no way to resupply en route. Carthage’s main concern was staying out of the way of other pirates.
“The Good Doctor was surprised by how long the trip would take,” Carthage reported randomly as Audacity got ready for bed.
“And you’re telling me this because…?”
No answer. Audacity growled. “Please tell me your plan for securing a licensed doctor on the crew roster does not include my seducing him.”
There was some hurried clicking. “Of course not, Navigator. That would be unseemly.”
“Shut up, Carthage,” Audacity said and hit the lights.
THE crew was used to long transit times, because that was simply how space worked. No one worked the void without a hobby, because otherwise a person would go insane from the boredom. There was a lot to keeping Carthage clean and functional, so there was always some menial task to get done, but those were only enough to exacerbate the boredom. It was the reason vacation cruise ships had full complements of entertainment troupes and entire decks given over to gambling, but Carthage was built for a more Spartan crew.
It was therefore no surprise when Sag searched out Audacity a few shifts later, looking desperate around the eyes as he paced the bridge.
“You need a hobby,” Audacity said, not looking up from his knitting, his feet propped up on the nav console.
“A what?”
“A hobby.” He lifted his project, which was a hat for Derrik in bright green wool.
“A hobby.”
The flat tone of Sag’s voice caused Audacity to look up. “You don’t like hobbies?”
“I… I’m a doctor,” Sag said, looking confused.
“Uh, yes, we know that.” Audacity lowered his needles, wonde
ring if Sag was fevered or off-balanced.
“I don’t need a ‘hobby’. I’m a doctor.”
Audacity had no idea what to say to that, but he was saved by Carthage.
“I believe the Good Doctor means he has never been in a situation involving extensive downtime. He has never needed a hobby before.”
Audacity had been raised ship-side in the void, and he could not imagine not having a hobby. He thought his brain would explode without a way to relax and distract himself, like knitting or chess.
Sag nodded in agreement with Carthage. “Hobbies are not encouraged in medical school, unless they involve scientific research.”
“I don’t think those qualify as hobbies.”
They looked at each other in mutual confusion before Carthage broke in again.
“Perhaps you could teach the Good Doctor the game of chess?”
Sag nodded uncertainly in agreement, so Audacity packed up his knitting and they went to the mess hall, which was the rec lounge when food wasn’t being served, and set out the game. Sag knew the pieces and the basic moves, but he had never played it regularly. Everyone on Carthage (and most spacefarers in general, in Audacity’s experience) knew the game so well that certain plays were instinctive, and Carthage had once told Audacity that different ships’ crews had certain patterns of playing that were as unique as fingerprints. It was therefore a new experience for him to actually teach someone the game.
They played for several hours every shift. Sag was, unsurprisingly, brilliant and caught on quickly, but he was still inexperienced and lost most of the games. The first time he won against Audacity, Dos and Factor were in the room and broke out a small bottle of whisky in celebration, which turned into a ship-wide party for the rest of the shift. Sag grinned the whole time in triumph, his face lit up with pleasure and the rare treat of liquor, his eyes sparkling. He looked downright mischievous, and Audacity tried not to imagine how Sag might wear the same expression in bed, naked, while being fucked. He was so unsuccessful in trying not to imagine it that he refused to leave the table for a long time for fear of humiliating himself.
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