Nickie grinned. “That would be awesome.”
Sofia led them on a complicated route through the maze of racks, stopping every now and then to take down one of the smaller boxes that surrounded the larger crates.
John pointed out one of the large crates while Sofia was exchanging Nickie’s old JD Specials for a more up-to-date set. “What’s in these?”
Sofia winked at him. “I could tell you, but then you’d have to stay here forever. Your choice.”
John took a step away from the crate. “It’s cool. I don’t need to know.”
She continued to lead them on their twisting journey, loading the crew for pretty much everything they might come across on the mission as they went up and down the aisles.
“What’s this?” Nickie asked, holding up a heavy crate Sofia had instructed her to take from the rack.
“It’s a bolt-on for standard ore extraction equipment that improves efficiency by around thirty-five percent. It’s the thing that’s going to get you into the palace. You turn up with this, and they’ll bite your hand off as soon as kiss your ass to get hold of it.”
Keen frowned. “If it’s so good, why are you giving it to us?”
Sofia grinned. “I said they would want it. That’s an outmoded version, and I have a whole warehouse full of them just gathering dust. You can take as many as you can fit in your ship. It sounds like the system will be joining the Federation anyway so we can give them a production boost with no problem.” She looked at their ears. “How are you communicating during missions? You’ve been out there a while. Do your crew have comm chips?”
Nickie shrugged. “We get by.”
“Wait here.” Sofia gave her a knowing glance and hurried off. She returned a few minutes later with the smallest box yet. It wasn’t the most aesthetic thing, which let Nickie know it was something from BMW rather than her Grandma Jean.
“Etheric comm,” Sofia explained as she handed the box to Nickie. “But they weren’t on the list, so I did not give them to you, and you return them when the mission has been completed.”
Nickie touched the side of her nose and winked. “Don’t worry, I totally stole them while your back was turned.”
Sofia nodded once and turned to Grim. “Now, do I have something for you! Follow me, my good Yollin. All of you follow me.”
They left a short time later, completely weighed down by all the goodies Sofia had tricked them out with. Sofia had also extracted the promise of a return visit from Nickie while she fitted the crew for new armor.
Durq was ecstatic to see them return to the Penitent Granddaughter. He skipped down the entrance ramp with the house bots following in a line behind him, looking for all the world like a mother hen with a brood of bulky metal chicks. He made a beeline for the antigrav pallets. “What’s all this?”
Nickie grinned. “Our gear for the mission, all of it.”
Grim hopped from one foot to another in impatience as the ramp to the cargo bays descended. “Let’s get it all inside, and then you can see it all instead of just hearing about it.”
They got the pallets aboard and started to unpack and organize. The floor of the cargo bay they were using as an ad hoc armory was soon strewn with empty weapons crates and packing materials. The house bots had been sent to unload the ore extractor tech into the next bay. They had been helping the crew, but then Bradley had tried to “tidy up” a box of grenades and nearly blown them all up.
Grim laughed. “It’s like Exodus morning!”
Nickie gave him a puzzled look. “You celebrate Exodus Day?”
Grim shrugged. “Why not? Some Yollin families celebrate from Exodus Day to Revolution Day.”
“Revolution Day?” Durq asked.
Grim nodded. “The day Bethany Anne killed the asshole Kurtherian who had enslaved the Yollins without us even realizing.” He opened the first crate on the armor pallet. “I think we should move our base out here just for the tech, Nickie. I can’t believe Sofia found almost the exact same armor that I came to the Empire wearing.”
Nickie snickered, enjoying her friend’s joy. “Just how old are you, Grimmie?”
“Old enough to know better,” he joked. He became more serious when he lifted out his armor to mount it. “Old enough to remember the first Revolution day.”
“Were you involved?” Keen asked.
Grim nodded. “I’m ashamed to say I fought against the Empress, or at least I did until I was set straight. Youth is blind until its eyes are opened.” He craned to see what Keen was unpacking at that moment. “Oh my, that is something else that has improved.”
Keen couldn’t get over the flexible skin-tone armor plates. “They just stick?” He almost tripped over the pallet behind him, he was so engrossed. “Don’t they fall off when you sweat?”
Adelaide had other concerns. “Doesn’t the glue damage your skin?”
“No, it’s a specially developed adhesive,” Nickie informed them. “It stays in place until you take it off without doing any more damage than a band-aid would cause.”
Grim strutted over. He walked a little stiffly, weighed down by the bulkiness of his upgraded armor. “What about you? I see that the quartermaster changed out your JD Specials.”
Nickie grinned and patted the reassuring weight at her hips. “That she did. I even have real ammo now.” She felt good. They were about to embark on a new adventure, one that would benefit others. That Barnabas trusted her with the real thing, not the restricted pistols she’d been issued before her exile, meant a hell of a lot.
She took one from its holster to examine it for the sixteenth time.
Keen let out a low whistle when she ejected the magazine to inspect the load they carried. “Your old ones were pretty damn amazing, but those are just—”
“Special?” Nickie supplied.
Keen chuckled. “Yeah.”
Durq returned with the house bots, and the crew got to work sorting through their newly issued gear.
Nickie came across an extra crate that wasn’t on the manifest. She was about to open it when she saw her name stamped below her grandmother’s chop. There was only one thing that came in a crate this size and shape with her Grandma Jean’s mark.
“Great work, everyone,” Nickie praised them. “Keep it up, I’m gonna head up to the bridge and take us out of here. I want to get there before John.” She raised a fist as she exited the bay. “We’ve got a mission, woooot!”
Chapter Seven
System of the Six, Planet Vietania, Plomerilia, Shipyard
The Granddaughter arrived just before the Briar Rose, which pleased Nickie as much as she was certain it pissed John off.
It was Nickie who was left steaming when John exited his ship with his usual easygoing grin. “So, this is Vietania.”
Use the comm, Nickie told him. All you have to do is think of the person you want to speak to.
Got it, John replied.
What about the rest of you?
Easy, Grim replied.
This is weird as hell, Keen chipped in.
Just remember to keep it on the comm, Nickie reaffirmed. And don’t forget to listen for your cover names like we practiced on the way over here.
Nickie was going to have to work on Durq’s agoraphobia while the others were away gathering intel. He hadn’t even come to the ramp to say goodbye to Grim, Addie, and Keen because he was too afraid to show himself on a human planet.
They looked around the open shipyard, which was pretty standard as shipyards went. It was packed with vessels from all over the system. Some were in the middle of repairs, others were being loaded or unloaded by groups of uniformed dockworkers.
Nickie noticed the drones overhead, and the IDs everyone around them wore around their necks. One of the dark spheres dropped to hover above Nickie.
“Credentials, please,” the drone chirped.
Nickie produced their cover credentials, and the drone dropped printed IDs like everyone else’s into her waiting hands.
> It whirred. “Reason for visiting?”
Nickie gave the drone the spiel she’d prepared. “We have an exciting opportunity that has the potential to change the face of commerce on this planet. How do I get an audience with the monarch here?”
“All requests for an audience must be routed through the bursar’s office at the palace,” the drone replied. “Appointments are to be booked six calendar months in advance. Would you like to request an appointment now?”
John paled at the information. “I can’t hang around that long. Maybe you should make the appointment, and we’ll come back in six months.”
“Fuck that,” Nickie grumped. Meredith, can you hack this thing and get us in sooner?
Of course. When would you like me to fit you in?
Nickie considered going straight there but saw an advantage to getting the feel of the place first. Tomorrow will do.
Easy as pie.
The drone dipped, and Nickie received a ping on her holo. “You have been allocated an audience with Her Highness tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, enjoy your time on Vietania, Captain Dakkar.”
The drone zipped off as quickly as it had arrived, leaving Nickie to put her newly formed plan into action. She turned to the others with a grin. “Get unloaded. We’re going into the city.”
System of the Six, Planet Vietania, Plomerilia
Nickie had the crew fan out and filter into the city streets. She walked them to the entrance and stopped at a street vendor to buy a hot drink as a reason for hanging around the shipyard entrance while she watched them go off in their pairs.
How are we all doing? she asked over the comm as soon as they were out of sight. Everyone good with their objectives?
Sure, Adelaide replied. We’re just a pair of traders taking some downtime to see the sights.
Nothing as fun as John and Grim, Keen grizzled.
Bar crawls are hard work, I’ll have you know, John snarked. We’re making this sacrifice, so you don’t have to.
Grim chuckled. Someone had to take one for the team. It just happened to be us this time.
I never told you to go on a bar crawl, Nickie objected.
Grim’s reply was a little smug. Ah, but when you told us to take note of public opinion, that’s what I heard. What better way to find out what people really think about the heirs?
And I agreed with him, John chipped in.
Just don’t get into any fights, Nickie warned. I don’t want to have to bail your asses out because you pissed off an angry drunk.
Grim affected a scandalized tone. Would I do that?
Would I warn you if I didn’t think it was a possibility? Nickie countered. No fights. I’ll be here, hacking my way into the municipal networks. One way or another, we’ll get to the bottom of this.
Chapter Eight
Adelaide looked around in wonder as she and Keen made their way through the city. It wasn’t anywhere near as advanced as High Tortuga, but Plomerilia had a certain charm all of its own. It reminded Adelaide a little of the settings of the grand romances her mother loved, the only difference being that the genteel facades of the buildings were plastered with screens and advertising holos.
They strolled through a market they came across, chatting about nothing over the comm while listening to the conversation around them for any talk about the current political situation.
Adelaide accepted a flower from a vendor who was giving them out in hopes of making a bigger sale. Do you think John came along because of the monarchy thing or just to spend time with Nickie?
Keen snorted. I’m staying right out of that disaster-waiting-to-happen.
Adelaide gave him a puzzled glance. Really? I was hoping they would get together. She sniffed the flower and smiled. “This is beautiful. So sweet! I’ll take a half-dozen.”
Oh, God, I hope not. They don’t even like each other. What are you going to do with those?
I’m going to put them in my quarters to brighten the place up a bit. Adelaide smirked. They do like each other, can’t you tell?
I can’t see it, Keen admitted. Then again, I’m not the best judge of these things.
I don’t even remember you having a relationship.
Keen’s smile softened into something sadder. I was married once.
I’m sorry, Adelaide soothed. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful. She linked her arm through Keen’s. “It’s a beautiful city.”
“That it is, lass,” Keen replied heartily, his usual affable expression returning. “What do you say we get out of this sun and find a place to get a cold drink and a bite to eat?”
Adelaide grinned and squeezed his arm tightly. “I think that’s a fine idea.”
They found a quaint café on the corner of a narrow side street and slipped inside to escape the rapidly mounting heat of the day. Nickie would have called it a vision from a frilly royalist hellscape, but Adelaide found the place completely charming.
She let go of Keen’s arm when they went into the busy tearoom and headed straight to the wall of framed photographs at the back. “You order? You know what I like. I just want to look for a minute.”
Keen’s eyes twinkled fondly. “Something hot and caffeinated and the biggest slice of cake I see?”
Adelaide grinned. “You’re the best!”
“Coming right up. Don’t be too long, Addie.” He winked at her and went to find them a table.
Adelaide scrutinized the photos. The most recent ones were of a tall, haunted-looking woman with high cheekbones and a halo of dark hair. Others were of a man with similar features and a tiny woman with a crown woven into her blonde ringlets. Above all of these was a single tiny oil painting. It was no more than cameo-sized, but it was positioned so there was no doubt that it was the most important image in the collection.
“You like my shrine?”
Adelaide turned to see a rosy woman whose smile stretched from dimple to dimple. “Hi! Um, yeah. I’m not from around here, so would you tell me about them?”
The woman beamed. “It would be my pleasure. This is Jolie, the rightful heir to the throne. These two are the dearly departed king and his…consort.”
Adelaide heard the distaste the woman tried to cover in her tone. Second marriage, maybe? That wouldn’t go down well with everyone. She pointed to the oil cameo. “What about this one? Was she the queen?”
The woman clasped her hands together. “No, more’s the pity. This is Braella, Jolie’s sainted mother. She was spurned by the king for her common blood, and she still gave her life to helping those in need.”
“So Jolie is the queen?”
The woman shook her head sadly. “She is the rightful queen, but her sister is legitimate, so Jolie’s is seen as the contentious claim. She is her mother’s daughter and the heart of the people, but the law says Cynthia’s legitimacy tops Jolie’s firstborn status, so we’re stuck with that spoiled brat.”
Adelaide thanked the woman for her time and made her way over to where Keen sat with their meal. “I just had an interesting conversation,” she told him.
“Me too,” he replied. “You first.”
Adelaide ran through it quickly for him while they ate. “So the obstacle to this planet’s stability might not be so simple to remove as the brief we were given suggested.”
Keen laughed and slapped his leg. “They never are, kiddo. You learn that along the way.” He picked up his glass and drained it in one. “There’s a rally or something happening in the city square. We should get over there and see if we can’t work this out.”
System of the Six, Planet Vietania, Plomerilia, Ugh Bar
I think it’s a stupid name for a bar.
Grim sighed internally at the thirtieth unasked-for opinion from John in half a minute. He’d had no success at all in blocking his personal thoughts from their Etheric comm channel, and the constant onslaught of vacuity was getting to be a little much.
He must be really attractive on a human scale, Grim had decided. Otherwise,
he couldn’t think why Nickie hadn’t lost her temper and spaced him already. She was usually much less patient than Grim when it came to inane chatter.
They made their way through the patrons to the main room, which had couches and coffee tables on one side and rows of desks with interactive screens on the other.
John looked at the patrons, who were all staring at the screens with the glazed eyes of the engrossed. Hey, maybe we can find out something there? The prince rushed straight over to the person standing by the nearest screen and began to pepper them with questions.
Grim left him to it, glad of the reprieve. He went to the bar and ordered himself a double measure of good Yollin whiskey, then sat at the bar for a moment to sip it in silence. The first measure was to offset the headache that was beginning to form. The second one was for Nickie, but since she wasn’t there, Grim would make sure it didn’t go to waste.
John plonked himself on the barstool beside Grim’s and waved to catch the bartender’s attention. He pointed at Grim’s glass, and the bartender grabbed the bottle and a glass for John and came over.
John nodded and swiped his wrist holo to pay. “Can I get some time on the ‘net?”
The bartender held out the holopoint again. “It’s extra for off-worlders.”
John shrugged and swiped his holo again. “Thanks.”
“Screen eleven,” the bartender told him.
John grabbed his whiskey and motioned for Grim to follow him. “You’ve got to see this.”
Grim picked up his glass and followed John to the screen. “See what?”
John waved a hand excitedly. “It’s like a planet-wide diary, here on their ‘net for everyone to see.”
Grim frowned. “What do you mean?”
John swiped the screen and clicked a brightly-colored icon. “They write down every detail of their lives, take photos and video of every moment, and store it in the public archives.”
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