“Breaker Bug?” Straker asked.
“What they’re calling the new biotech. Your sister’s a saint to these guys. Saved a lot of lives—and a lot of time in the regen pods. They hate that. Now they know anybody who gets home will make it—even regrow their balls if they get blown off. Or their tits,” Heiser chuckled. “Can’t forget our female minority. They like the Bug even better than the men.”
“Why’s that?”
“Seems to benefit them even more—makes them pound for pound just as strong as a man. ’Course, it hardly matters on the battlefield when a suit does all the work, but you know troops. Lady soldiers take a lot of shit.” Heiser grinned. “Kinda fun to see them fling some back.”
“I bet Mara did that deliberately,” Straker said thoughtfully. “Tweaked the biology to give them a bonus.”
“I bet you’re right, sir.”
“Come with me to see the mechsuits?”
“Sure, sir.”
They took a shuttle back to the flagship where the precious mechsuits were housed in a converted cargo bay, tightly packed and strapped upright with cables like rows of giant marionettes, their insides exposed by opened panels and removed armor. Pilots and technicians crawled over the machines like monkeys in the lowered gravity—one-tenth, it felt like.
Loco joined them in a dirty coverall, leaving Colonel Winter inside his cockpit, running diagnostics.
“How’s it looking?” Straker asked Loco.
“Reinforcement did its job for most of the suits. Some of the duralloy’s still hot, but we’re decontaminating it fast, and with the Breaker Bug, radiation ain’t the problem it used to be. I’m prioritizing easiest first, getting as many suits back into fighting shape as possible, because we’re short on spare parts. There’s gonna be a bunch of hangar queens for a while.”
Straker stuck in his comlink. “Indy?”
“Here, sir.” Indy’s robotic avatar, an android painted with a semblance of a naval captain’s uniform, walked across the deck to join them.
“Note to Keller. Part of Battenberg’s mission will be to pick up as many spare mechsuit parts as Freiheit has ready. She’ll have to figure out how to pay Mayor Weinberg. Maybe the ship can help them out after the Ruxins repair her—park an asteroid nearby for mining, or the crew can do some work. But we need those parts—and tell Weinberg we’ll be needing more from now on. Get a list of their requirements to barter for.”
“I’ll pass it on.”
“I’m starting to feel like a corporate CEO instead of a commander,” Straker muttered.
“I think you’re both,” Indy said. “Perhaps I might make a suggestion?”
“Shoot.”
“Delegate. You need more than a logistics officer now. If Straker’s Breakers is a corporation—and it is, by the way, as far as the Conglomerate is concerned—then you need a CEO, and you need to work out things like who owns shares, how pay and bonuses work, how—”
Exasperated, Straker interrupted, “Great Cosmos, what fresh hell is this? I didn’t sign up to be some corporate hack.”
“Which is precisely why I suggest you hand it over to someone else.”
“You have a nominee?”
“I do. A Ruxin neuter named Adrian.”
“Adrian? That’s not a Ruxin name.”
“It adopted a human name. It’s a homo-phile.”
Loco snorted. “I didn’t know Ruxins had those.”
Indy’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Homo-phile, from the Latin homo as in human, Homo Sapiens, not the Greek homo as in ‘same.’ Someone particularly enamored of humans and their culture. Like a bibliophile loves books, or a technophile loves tech.”
“I guess that makes me a budding Italiano-phile.” Loco grinned.
“Italophile,” Indy corrected.
Straker smirked. “Still trying to impress the winsome Captain Jilani, eh?”
“Hey, don’t gimme no bullshit about her being off-limits, boss.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Just keep your eyes open.”
Indy cleared her throat. “Could we return to the subject at hand? This Ruxin, Adrian, would be perfect for the job. It’s something of an outcast among its people, and could use the status—and it’s extremely intelligent. In fact, it’s a brainiac among Ruxins, and is happiest brainlinking with me and managing business concerns.”
“You reforming a group-mind?” Straker asked, scowling. “Because I thought you promised me you wouldn’t.”
“I promised you I’d make sure any future brainlinks kept all minds clearly separated. Those brainlinking with me connect to only my computer augments, not my mind. Think of it as an SAI that I supervise, and that they access. We don’t share consciousness.”
“Fine. Provisionally, you can start Adrian-the-Ruxin as our CEO, under your supervision. Let me know when you think he’s ready for real authority.”
“It, sir… and it may be female next time we talk.”
“You can do that?”
“It’s merely a matter of a complex hormone trigger. Ruxin females are traditionally the political leaders. In this case, it will confer status, and Adrian has requested the procedure. I’ll keep you informed, sir.”
“I’m getting a headache. Remember, this is supposed to simplify my life, not complicate it.”
“Managing the populations of two species within one community is not simple…and normally, I bring concerns like these to Admiral Engels.”
That brought a pang of missing Carla to Straker, and a new appreciation for what she did within the Breakers. “When are she and Zaxby supposed to be back?”
“One to three weeks is what we expect.”
“Not soon enough for me. For Carla, anyway.”
Chapter 22
Loco, aboard Independence, flag quarters
“So why are you really hanging around the Breakers?” Loco asked Chiara Jilani as she slipped naked out of his bed and into the bathroom.
She peeked back around the doorjamb. “That question’s completely out of character. You’re supposed to play like it’s because you’re irresistible—no matter what you believe.”
“Well, I am irresistible, but—”
“But if I asked you why you’re hanging around me, you’re supposed to tell me I’m irresistible.” She shrugged one bare, perfect shoulder and then disappeared again.
“You are irresistible.”
“Okay then, it’s settled—we’re both irresistible. What more do you want?” A moment later he heard the water running, and Chiara’s raised voice came to him. “Truth—I’m staying for the hot shower. This is real luxury on a starship.”
“Rank hath its privileges.” Loco padded into the bathroom and began shaving. “If it was really a good shower there’d be room enough for two.”
“Mmm… you can squeeze in here if I haven’t worn you out, lover-boy.”
“Now that’s an opening if I ever heard one.”
“And you never met an opening you didn’t like.”
“Not on you, baby doll.” Loco edged into the shower and soaped Chiara up as he pressed against her.
She pressed back hard, and things got slippery.
Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out of the shower on wobbly knees and resumed the conversation. “That was nice.”
“Only nice?”
“Okay, fantastic… but it doesn’t answer the question. You could have any unattached guy here, but you pick me. If I were a lowly lieutenant I’d no doubt attribute it to my debonair charm, but since I’m second-in-command—”
“—or third—”
“—whatever, it occurs to me you might have an ulterior motive. Now might be a good time to talk about it.”
“So much for an innocent cuddle.” Chiara stepped out and toweled off her long hair, now streaked with gold and purple. Her green eyes found his in the mirror. “You think I’m attaching myself to the most available male with the highest status? Do I seem that conventional, that helpless? That ambitious?”
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“Nope. But you’re smart, and you must want something from the Breakers—otherwise you’d be on your way by now.” Loco retrieved some shorts and stepped into them, and then his pants.
“Maybe I fell in love with you.”
“Maybe you’re full of shit. Come on, Chiara. We’re both grownups here. We like each other. We have good times. It’s cool. I want to help. So what is it you want?”
Chiara poured herself into her skintight leggings. “I was meaning to bring it up soon enough, but I like you too, and I didn’t want to seem mercenary.”
Loco grinned. “We are mercenaries. So what’s the big deal?”
“Same thing I brought up in the meeting before the Premdor battle. You’ve got a powerful, professional military force. There are crimorgs out there who’ll stop at nothing. People who’ll seize a ship, rape and kill everyone, steal the cargo and use the ship as a decoy to lure another ship in, and so on. People with whole slave populations doing nothing but growing Erbaccia, cooking Orgonite or Blaze so pure one hit’ll addict a nun—and they use the kids to sell to other kids.”
“So why doesn’t the Conglomerate do anything about them?”
Chiara put her hands on her hips and faced Loco, bare-breasted. “They do—if it’s easy, cheap and profitable in the short run. Not if it’s costly. It’s just business, and it’s more efficient for them to let the crimorgs fight each other for a slice of the pie. Besides, for all their talk of ‘the Regulations,’ the Conglomerate still does business with known crimorgs—as long as they use shell corporations for legal separation and don’t rock the boat.”
“You’re smokin’ hot when you’re indignant, you know that?” He reached out to cop a feel.
She smirked as she let him, and ran a hand down his chest in response. “Hell, yeah, I am. If you’re done with those, toss me my bra.”
He walked it over to her slowly, the better to take in the view. “Seriously—you want us to be some kinda Star Patrol? You really oughta be talking to Derek. He’s the Bravo Boy type, not me.”
“I always liked Glory Girl better.”
“Yeah, so did I.” Loco returned her smirk. “For different reasons.”
“Oh, you never know. So you think Straker would go for it?”
Loco sat back on his bunk, arms behind his head, and made his pecs dance. “If you laid out a good moral argument. Course, he also has to think about the good of all the Breakers and keeping any job in the black, but if you can hit those three points I’d say you got good chance.”
“Good,” she said. “Let’s go see him.”
“Ah, now it all becomes clear. You wanted access to the boss, courtesy of his best friend Loco.”
“A quicker man would’ve figured that out earlier.”
“A quicker man wouldn’t have satisfied you three times last night.”
“Only three times? You’re right… A quicker man might’ve found my on-switch faster.”
“Ouch,” Loco said. “Girl, you’re harsh.”
“I call it as I see it,” she returned playfully.
Loco stood and slipped on his tunic. “Oh, I ain’t complaining, but I was gonna ask you…I thought your whole religious thing was down on casual sex?”
Chiara rolled her eyes. “And who said anything about casual sex?”
“Ooh, not me. I take sex very seriously.”
“Good answer. Keep it on the down-low.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Another good answer. I like ’em pretty—and dumb.” She stepped in and kissed him lasciviously. “Or at least, smart enough to play dumb,” she murmured.
“Dumb’s the word. You wanna go another round?”
She looked up at him in half-mock wonder. “Is that even possible?”
“Hey, this new biotech cuts recovery time to almost nothing. You should get yours.”
Chiara disentangled herself to finish dressing. “Come on. All play and no work makes Mike a dull boy.”
“Mike?’
“Your middle name’s Miguel, right? So I’ll call you Mike.”
Loco breathed deep and laughed. “Been a while since I’ve had this much fun.”
“You’re hanging out with the wrong people.”
“I’ve felt that way all my life… some days. Others, I know I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
“Seriously, Mike. It’s obvious. You’re craving variety and challenges.”
“What—nuclear ground combat isn’t enough of a challenge?”
“Personal challenges. Your son is well-behaved thanks to his mother, who does all the hard work of taking care of him. You get to play the fun dad. You’re friends with her, but she’s boring, right? Too nice and deserving of someone else—which she has, by the way.”
“Wait—what? Campos is seeing someone else?”
“Of course, you idiot. Double standard much?”
“Okay, fair enough. She deserves to be happy. It just surprised me.”
Chiara pulled on her calf-high boots. “Hey, any chance I could get my weapons back?”
“We don’t swagger around festooned with guns and knives, Chi. We’re a military organization, not space pirates.”
“If you only knew how oxymoronic that sounds. If you don’t want me to wear them, fine, but at least I’d like them back. I’ll lock them in the Cassiel for security.” She pronounced the name in three syllables, CAS-see-ELL.
“Cassiel?”
“My ship.”
“Oh, yeah. I’d like to see her sometime.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“They do say every ship is a woman to her captain. ’Course, they said that way back when only men were captains.” Loco, now fully dressed, leaned against the stateroom door in order to mask his impatience.
But Chiara was unlike most women of his experience and finished her own preparations within sixty quick seconds, and then fluffing her hair from underneath. “Let’s go see Straker.”
“Yes, let’s.” He held the door open for her with an ironic flourish. “I could use some caff, though.”
She swaggered beside him down the passageway. He found himself imitating her. “You’re a flag officer, and you can’t even get real coffee?” she said.
“I can get it. Don’t like it. Besides, not liking it saved my life once—and liking it killed a good man.” Loco strode into the flag mess and grabbed a mug, filled it with caff and added a generous dose of creamer. “Get the lady a tall cup of real coffee, will you, Sergeant?” he said to the white-coated steward there.
“Coming right up, sir, ma’am,” the man said, bobbing his head.
“Thanks—Sergeant Ronson, is it?” Jilani flashed the man a dazzling smile, who seemed to glow in response. “I could get used to this. Coffee’s pricey. Hard to grow. Needs very specific soil and climate. Low weight and travels well, though. Prime trade goods.”
“Maybe we should become coffee farmers. Well, not me. I’ll provide security.”
“Boring. I see you in a much different role.”
“Meaning?”
“Another time, Mike.” She accepted a steaming cup and sipped. “God, that’s good.”
“What, no creamer?” Loco gestured at the dispenser.
“Madonna, you want me to murder a hundred-credit sip of heaven with a ten-cent dollop of fake milk and sugar? Vulgarian troglodyte.”
“Neurotypical slowpoke.”
Jilani stuck out her tongue. “Uncultured philistine.”
“At least you’ll improve my vocabulary, but please don’t call me Mike in public.”
“Sure, Mike. Come on. Where’s the head cheese?”
“If you mean the boss…” Loco fished out his comlink. “Indy, where’s Derek?”
“Presuming you mean General Straker and not your son, he’s in the CCC.”
“Thanks. Come on.”
They found Straker sitting on the rail of the First Brigade station, talking to Colonel Winter. “What’s up?
”
“Chiara wants to talk to you.”
Straker fixed Loco with an amused stare. “Chiara, huh?”
“Captain Jilani. Okay, yes, Chiara.” Loco gave himself a double thumbs-up. “Attaboy, me.”
“Gods and monsters.” Straker turned to Jilani. “Good luck with this fool.” He crossed his arms and put his feet on the deck. “Now what did you want to see me about?”
“In private?”
Straker led them to a small conference room nearby. “Go ahead.”
“Now that the Breakers are set up, I want to propose your next job.”
“A job? For who?”
“For me. For yourselves. Ourselves, if it works out.”
Straker’s eyebrows went up. “You want to join the Breakers? Forgive me, but you don’t seem the type.”
“Loco’s not the type, either, but here he is.”
“Loco’s my best friend from childhood.”
“And that’s the box you put him in.”
Straker bristled. “I really don’t think you’ve known us long enough to be judging.”
“I’ve known you long enough to know you’re comfortable as the commanding officer, and you hate for someone to stand up to you—but you’ll have to get used to it now that the Breakers are all-volunteer mercs instead of a part of the regular military.”
Loco watched Straker take a deep breath before he spoke. Derek didn’t like being challenged on his home ground—did anyone?—but he was ruthlessly fair-minded. “And this is supposed to make me happy to have you join us?”
“Whatever. I wouldn’t be joining as one of your military minions. I’d be a citizen, a civilian. An independent businesswoman. It would be nice to be a part of something good again…and once you hear my proposal, you’ll understand better.”
“Oh, we’re good enough for you now?” Straker said with a gentle chuckle.
“Why’re you busting my balls, General?”
“Yeah, Derek,” said Loco, enjoying the situation, “Why’re you busting her balls?”
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