by Reiter
“Hey, if that’s the way you want to play it, you can go chase that bogey that lit a fire on your starboard ass y’damn self! Thought there might be a chance for some cred here! Of course, I am only talking in purse matters.” Jocasta looked at her brace-com and the cockpit was muted. “Start recording this for me, Z!” she commanded as she re-engaged the vocal effect. Both of them could hear the stations switch on the other end of the channel.
“This is Fidriss Mathari, pilot, and given what I see on my screens, you’re already up to speed to get me back my property.”
“Mr. Mathari, I’m in position to do a number of things,” Jocasta said as she turned the lander to intercept the small aircraft and pulled back on the throttle. “The question is: what can you do for me?”
“Bring me back my property, and the bug that took it, alive, and I’ll see to it that–”
“I realize these things are good for talking,” Jocasta interrupted as she pulled in behind the escape aircraft. “But lip-flapping was never my thing. I’m the sort of girl who prefers to do rather than talk about it all day. And if you want this little cloud-jumper of a plane back, you’re asking me not to fire.” Jocasta muted the cockpit once more. “Z, send him the numbers to the empty JoJo account.” She reactivated vocals as she settled the lander into the aircraft’s jet wash. “Now what you have there is the opportunity to be a doer, not a talker. We have an accord, Mr. Mathari?”
Z turned from his console and held his brace-com readout for Jocasta to see. Fifty thousand credits had appeared in the ‘To Deposit’ category.
“Now that’s what I call a good halfway down payment,” Jocasta said, signaling Dungias to accept the deposit request.
“You’ll get the rest when that plane and that thief are aboard my ship,” Fidriss stated calmly. “Until then, my ship will be in a canyon southwest of my current position.”
“I have it marked,” Jocasta replied. “See you soon, Purse Man.” Jocasta gave the hand sign to cut the channel.
“Satithe already has the specific broadcast code for the comm aboard the aircraft,” Dungias reported.
“That girl is always workin’ overtime!” Jocasta said, shaking her head. “Check this out. You always know when you’re dealing with a soft stick. I’m parked halfway up his patookie and nothing.”
“It is doubtful he overheard the conversation,” Dungias offered. “Especially with the way the variable wavelength was restricted to sub-channel status before Mathari got on the line.”
“Sub-channel,” Jocasta said, thinking aloud. “That means he’s got himself one very powerful comm-station aboard that ship and it’s highly unlikely anyone else was listening in on it. Us having a recording gets us nowhere if we’re both iced at the end of the exchange.”
“Perhaps we should focus on catching the thief first,” Dungias stated. He was especially proud that Jocasta was in the habit of planning on the treachery of others exceeding her own. It was simply premature to make too many considerations without the goods necessary to demand an exchange event in hand.
“I can work it that way too,” Jocasta said as she eased the yoke forward and increased her speed enough to get under the aircraft. “Let’s light up the topside shields, find me a high-end nearby spaceport, and boost me a link into the cockpit, Z.”
“At once, Captain.” Dungias said as he worked his console. Aside from what he had been told to do, he also readied the portside launcher with a tracking bolt and the starboard with piton and cable. “Coordinates of the spaceport sent, and we have signal lock.”
Jocasta sucked on her tongue loudly before pressing her upper teeth and against her lower lip and breathing in. “Hmmm, doesn’t it feel good, baby?” The aircraft fired up its engines and collided with the top of the lander. Jocasta increased speed to remain under the plane. “Oooh, easy there, lover! Just cuz you’re on top doesn’t mean you get to have your way with the moment.”
“Shields are intact,” Dungias reported. “Light damage to the undercarriage of the aircraft. Possible landing gear malfunction.”
“You’re just going to do your do and then roll off without even so much as a nibble on the ear lobe?!” she ribbed. “Now that’s just criminal!”
“Hey, we both knew what this was when you came into my space,” Nulaki replied, trying to figure out who he was dealing with and hoping to hide the shake in his voice from one of the more surprising introductions he had ever experienced. To his left and to his right he could see the vehicle beneath him. It was a spaceship, which meant there was no way he was going to outrun it. His only hope was that Fidriss’ little escape jumper would be more agile.
Breaking right, Nulaki was able to lead in his movement, but the lander took a tighter bank and stayed under him. He then started left but took another right turn. As he started to lose altitude, the collision alarms sounded once more and he pulled up just shy of having a second collision.
“Okay,” Nulaki said softly. “This is obviously not your first time, sugar.”
“It’s my first time with you, baby doll!” the woman replied. He was suddenly reminded of what his Sensei had told him about females in general, despite the species: they were more agile and with greater hand-eye coordination, generally speaking, than males of the same species. The chances of the woman being Fazerian were less than minimal. She had yet to chirp or click when she spoke. But Nulaki was half Terran, and the mysterious woman sounded as if she was of or raised by that race. However, this was not his first time at the flight controls.
“Then let’s make it memorable!” Nulaki said, taking the plane into a barrel roll.
“Let go, Z,” Jocasta warned as she put both hands on the yoke and pushed her head against the back of the chair. She had made a rule never to say ‘hang on’ as such a warning had always sounded redundant to her. “Someone wants to try me!”
“What is this?!” Dungias thought as the gravitational force pressed him into his seat. He had known Jocasta was a good pilot, perhaps even accomplished, but to take the lander into a barrel roll to maintain her position near the belly of the plane was very special to watch. He activated interior defense fields to strengthen the body of the lander as she put the ship through maneuvers he had never envisioned when he built the spacecraft. She flowed from the barrel roll into a loop, to a combination of the two which made Dungias take a two-hand grip of the console in order to steady himself. The defense fields were nearly at their maximum output, but the lander held together nicely and Dungias started making a mental list of things to improve the moment they were aboard the Xara-Mansura again.
“Mmmm, baby, don’t forget to pull my hair,” she cooed as she leveled off.
“Somebody smack me and tell me I’m dreaming!” Nulaki thought as the environmental controls returned to nominal. The cockpit had engaged its measures to contend with the gravitational influx his turns put on the fuselage of the plane, and the body of its pilot who was suddenly regretting his decision to forego stealing a flight suit. “This woman is just unreal!
“Was it good for you, baby?” he asked, deciding to keep the metaphor running. If nothing else, his newfound nemesis, and superior pilot, was creative.
“Sweetheart, all I need right now is a cigaro and a pillow!” she answered.
“A cigaro,” he thought. “If she’s got a bod to match that voice, this could be problematic.
“So, darlin’, where am I setting this thing down?” Nulaki asked. “And make no mistake; Marathi Minor Three is not an option. These things come with ejector controls you know.”
“Understood and not a problem,” she replied. “Serenveil Spaceport, just off your portside wing.”
“Received and understood,” Nulaki said. “You will let me lower my altitude when we get there, right?”
“Stall Sixteen has auto-landing capability,” she stated. “You release your controls when we’re five miles out, I’ll let you get off of me. Until then, we cuddle.”
“That was fast,” Nulaki observed.
“Too fast for this to be her first time here or her first time forcing someone to land. This changes a few things.”
“Z, you look absolutely jumpy,” Jocasta remarked as the two of them walked toward Stall Sixteen. She was surprised by the amount of effort her engineer was putting put into checking the surrounding area. “This is one of the ritzier spaceports. Bad stuff happens where we normally park.”
“Is that why you chose this facility?” Dungias asked.
“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, this is already paid for,” Jocasta returned. “Now please calm down.”
“You forget, Captain, I am alien to the Rims. I am supposed to be looking like a tourist.”
“Good point,” Jocasta said, lifting her brace-com. “Okay, guys, we’re ready to receive that skitter. Lower away.” Jocasta looked up at the plane as it engaged its vertical thrust. Two of the three fired normally. The one under the nose was going to require some work.
“I wonder if she has considered that this man has a classified IA file,” Dungias thought as he came from his inspection of the immediate area.
“I bet you money I don’t have this goes down as anything but smoothly,” Jocasta said as she tightened her gloves. Dungias looked at her with an inquisitive look. “C’mon, Z! The guy’s got a rap sheet as long as your last scientific explanation! People like that don’t go easily… or quietly. You’ve got the rifle… find yourself a perch and be prepared to spoil his aims.”
“Very good, Captain,” Dungias said with a slight smile. “I shall be the double tone you hear.” Jocasta nodded and watched Dungias walk quickly out of sight. She looked down at herself and smiled at her ensemble. Given the matter at hand, both she and Dungias had thought she should wear her weapons belt. Dungias had suggested the long coat, and she had been very much against the idea until she caught sight of herself in the monitor. With the collar up, it looked even cooler. She walked to the entry doors of Stall Sixteen and she heard two soft tones chime in her ear.
“Showtime!” she whispered, pushing the doors open and entering the stall. She could see the outline of a figure in the forward seat and her head tilted to the left. “He’s a little taller than I expected.”
“Satithe projects he is one hundred eighty-three centimeters tall,” Dungias reported.
“Always did like the towers in that neighborhood,” Jocasta replied without moving her lips. “Especially when they are slim and trim.”
“And to be delivered?” Dungias inquired.
“The man said alive, not virtuous!” Jocasta snapped. “And until you make the right kind of equipment, Momma still has muscles that need working out.
“Open the canopy, boys,” Jocasta commanded. Her eyebrows lifted as a seam formed in the center of the glass and the two halves split, falling into the fuselage of the plane. “Nifty.”
“Impractical,” Dungias remarked.
“Oooh, someone’s jealous! Looks like the Rims have a niftier canopy design.” Hands came up and out first and they waved for a moment, showing they were empty. “Hi there. Exactly what should I call you?”
Nulaki climbed up out of the seat and threw his leg over. “Oh boy, this is going to be problematic,” he thought after taking a good look at the woman who had forced his in-flight surrender. “And I don’t even like blondes!
“Is it too late to call me yours?” he joked and she chuckled. Jocasta approached slowly only after checking the gun on her hip. She looked back at the man who was slowly climbing down and started to shake her head.
“Going for the charming jugular?” she asked.
“You don’t look like the sort of woman who wastes time,” Nulaki informed.
“You’d be right,” Jocasta affirmed as she reached for her restraints. Nulaki looked up to see that the security for the facility had been made ready, but not everyone in uniform was looking in his direction. One particular man was looking around to see if any of the others were watching him as he readied his rifle.
“You do realize who you’re working for, right?” Nulaki asked as he gazed at the man. It looked like he had thirty seconds at the most.
“Where is he looking,” Dungias thought as he turned his head and immediately saw a man in a port security uniform. The Malgovi Traveler did not have to extend to his senses to know that the man was incredibly anxious.
“Be advised, Captain. We may have an operative who has infiltrated the facility’s security.” Dungias then opened a channel to the Xara-Mansura. “Satithe, see if you can access this facility’s records and verify not only the personnel on duty at the moment, but their personal financial situations as well.”
“Working the requested data, Master,” Satithe replied before an error tone sounded.
“What is the problem?”
“Master, according to the facility, only ten men are on physical security duty at this time.”
“Then why are there eleven people out here?” Dungias asked, turning toward the anxious man, lifting his rifle and switching his channel.
“Possible sniper at your five-thirty,” Dungias reported.
“I know exactly who I’m working for at the moment,” Jocasta replied. “And I’ve got around a hundred thousand reasons to bring you in to him.”
“A hundred K?!” Nulaki said before whistling. “Somebody broke a piggy bank and a half.” Jocasta maintained her smile as she held up the restraints. “You know those aren’t going on easy, right? I want to say that upfront because I respect the hell out of you. I’m no slouch with a stick, but you made me look like a rookie who just learned how to turn on the simulator! And if you were a little leaner in your appearance, I’d offer you a job getting me in and out of my jobs.”
“A little leaner?”
“You don’t look desperate enough to say yes to a man you think you’ve got cornered,” Nulaki advised.
“Possible sniper at your five-thirty,” Dungias reported and Jocasta lost her smile.
“Uh oh. It looks as if something unexpected just happened, yes?” Nulaki asked as his legs bent slightly at the knees. “You had me in the air, sweetness. But I this element belongs to me!”
“Break left!” Jocasta said as she jumped forward and to her right. As she had hoped, her quarry took the command as an attempt to assist him. He jumped to his left and she jumped to tackle him. She extended her hands to take hold of him and force him to the pavement. Jocasta saw him break a smile and he rolled as he fell… but it seemed that he was rolling around an invisible pole as his body changed direction. The grab she was able to make was his shoulder, and with her body weight taking her away from the man, she was not able to keep her grip. “Dammit!”
Nulaki landed on his fingertips and toes as Jocasta rolled on the ground. His muscles tensed at the sound of gunfire, but no one was shooting at him. He looked up to see a race of life he had never seen before lift his head up from his rifle as he looked upon the result of his shot. One of the facility guards was falling back from the railing of the upper deck with a laser burn in the left shoulder of his body armour. But the struck man did not look at the man who had just shot him. Instead, he was reaching to take firm hold of his weapon while looking at Nulaki all the while.
The look of determination was unmistakable and Nulaki could even detect desperation in the shooter’s eyes. The man took hold of his rifle and he was shot the very next instant.
“It would seem that my guardian angel is a damn fine shot!” Nulaki thought as the left shoulder plate fell from the main body of the man’s armour. It was a known fact that two shots, close enough to each other, could cause the plating in most armour designs to fail and that section would fall right off. It was obvious that the left shoulder had been an intentional target on both occasions. “Sure do wish he had more of a killer instinct though!”
“Weapons fire!” one of the security guards yelled. “Upper deck, northwest corner. He was listed as a friendly, but he just took two shots at Hexylkravbon. You can’t miss him,” the young man reported as he ran
for the stairs. “He’s as big as a frigate and blue-skinned.”
“Nice try, doll,” Nulaki said as he pushed off the ground high enough to afford a back flip to where he landed on Jocasta’s back after she tried a second time to tackle him. She dropped the restraints and Nulaki was quick to jump from her to the wing of the plane he had been flying. “But if you’ve got a blue-skinned friend, I think you’ve got problems other than explaining how I got away.” He turned, ran two steps, and jumped for the dividing wall of the stall. He landed on top of it and ran three steps before jumping again. Wherever he landed was out of Jocasta’s ability to see, as the high wall made a perfect blinder.
“So…” Jocasta said as she got up from the ground. She dusted herself and picked up the restraints. “… that’s what it feels like to watch me pilot. Got it!” Weapons fire made Jocasta turn to see the cause of the matter. She saw Dungias jumping from the second deck to the third and moving more nimbly than a person with his frame should be allowed to do. He put his hand on the railing and threw his legs over, landing in a squat as gunfire went over his head and into a storefront window. Glass shattered and patrons started screaming.
“Z!” Jocasta yelled as she quickly drew and fired her pistol at the man who was shooting at her engineer. With the same speed and grace, Jocasta holstered her weapon, seeing that she had struck her target in the helmet. Though he was still alive, the unexpected pounding knocked him to the ground and left him stunned. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Not a good time for explanations, Captain!” Dungias shouted as he dove at the approaching guards. All three men fell to the ground as the Dungias-missile flew past them, landed on his fists, and rolled forward to his feet. “Nine o’clock, upper deck!” Dungias yelled as he turned to deal with the three he had knocked down.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jocasta muttered as she quickly drew her gun and fired, hitting the buckle of the security guard that was aiming at her. He dropped his rifle as he staggered back. Jocasta pivoted on her boot to where her right shoulder now faced the man and she fired two more shots, both hitting his helmet. Glass cracked on the first, sparks fired from the second, and the guard fell unconscious. “I saw him!