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"So, turrets then. Where do I go and what do I do?"

I flipped a few switches. There was the sound of large mechanisms engaging, bolts sliding into place and hydraulics whirring, followed by the rattling of a ladder hitting the floor. "There should be two access hatches in front of the cargo hold leading to the top and bottom turret. Pick one, strap yourself in and get ready to fire."

"Got it. How do we keep in touch?"

"Headset's above the seat." I reached up and claimed mine. As expected, the channels were full of threats and people screaming at me. I tuned out everything save the tactical channels and the onboard comms.

"Made it to the turret yet?" I asked over intercom.

A moment later, I heard the tell-tale rustle of a headset being readied. "I'm in," she said.

"Great. Strap yourself in, it's gonna get wild."

"Why? I don't see any fighters on screen yet."

I bared my teeth. "Well, there's the small matter of the station's point defense systems opening fire the moment we're out of its blind spot. We might get hit."

"Fuck."

I tilted my head. "Since when do you curse?"

Jenala sighed. "That's only the second time and you're to blame by exposing me to Terran entertainment. That 'Pulp Fiction' thing was... confusing. What do I shoot at?"

"We don't shoot until shot at first. If possible, aim for the missile turrets. The small tilt switch under your thumb is your targeting toggle, the big red button under your pointer is the fire button. Confirm twice, shoot once."

"Ta'kai."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"'Understood' in my language. Sorry."

"Don't be. Ready?"

"To think three short hours ago..."

I pushed the thrust lever forward, the control stick down and hammered my foot on one of the roll pedals, causing Consuela to drop into a sharp corkscrew. Around us, plasma, charged particle beams and missiles erupted. Some hit but, thanks to my sudden acceleration and erratic movement, only glanced the thick Armorgrade skin instead of damaging anything important. I heard the roar of the rear-mounted particle cannons, accompanied by the tell-tale flicker of every screen as the ship's power grid was suddenly taxed to the max. One of the station's missile turrets on my scanner flickered and died.

Most of the station's serious firepower was mounted close to the edge and could only aim about forty-five degrees in each direction, leaving a relatively lightly defended corridor around the station's main "axle." Another turret met its end as multiple megawatt impulses of channeled energy slammed into it, frying electronics, melting armor and liquefying anything not made from metal in the vicinity.

"Tell me again why I'm doing the shooting," Jenala said through gritted teeth.

"Because Consuela has a rather shitty sixty percent chance to hit even on a good day. I'm willing to bet my ass on your aim."

My contact scanner pinged, several times in rapid succession. Consuela was being scanned not only by the station -- I was pretty sure Flight Control was beaming our specs to all ships in comms range -- but by a six-gun frigate which just now powered up its engines. A second quartet of pings emerged from within the debris field. They were not the stiletto-like Lucanos interceptors with their popgun armaments. The ship database identified them as Scarabs, although there was no match for their exact loadout. The boomerang-shaped heavy Nor fighters could pack any kind of nasty surprises.

"Just so you know, Jenala," I said, using the aft maneuvering jets for a little bit of extra thrust. "There's a total of eight fighters and a very pissed-off frigate coming for us."

According to the sensors, Phase Wolf squadron would be upon us in less than a minute. Lucky for us, Lucanos interceptors were mainly made for speed and harassment tactics. They were literally built around their engine, with only four light plasma cannons mounted to their stabilizing fins. These had barely more punch than those rifles the station securities wielded. Didn't mean they could not chew up an unprepared ship, especially when the squad worked well together.

"Lucky for you, we're out of range of the station's defense systems. I can deal with them if you want," Jenala said, her voice surprisingly calm, given the chaos around us. "Are you going to engage?"

"Hell no. I'll keep flooring the gas and praying we'll reach the edge of the system's gravity well before the frigate does unspeakable things to us."

"And I have to deal with the fighters? Fantastic," Jenala snorted. "Here they come."

Either my ship wasn't as fast as I had always assumed or these interceptors had been subject to a serious upgrade. They caught up with us easily. Jenala peppered them with suppression fire but they nimbly dodged and strafed Consuela's hull, leaving dozens of craters in her Armorgrade skin.

"Damn, they're fast!"

"No serious damage thus far," I said, gnashing my teeth. I couldn't activate the faster-than-light engines while within the system's gravity well. Using the TransNet was out of the question too. The station would likely block me from activating it. And having to remain stationary for almost a minute would be a death sentence anyway.

On my scanner, one of the interceptors flickered and vanished. Jenala whooped over comms. "Got one!"

The next moment, the cockpit rang and shook. Sparks flew and suddenly the air was heavy with the stench of molten plastics and insulation. One half of my main screen went dark.

"What was that?" Jenala yelled.

I coughed and slammed my hand on the damage control button. "Hit to the avionics, if I had to guess." Automated fire extinguishers went to work, fouling up the air in the cockpit even more. I reached up to pull the cowl of my flight suit over my head only to realize I was still wearing my street clothes. Fuck indeed.

Another interceptor blew up, courtesy of the bottom turret. The other two were still picking away at Consuela. My hands flew over the maintenance console. Luckily, the FTL drive was still whole.

"Says here 'incoming missiles!'" Jenala called.

I returned my attention to the scanner. Eight angrily pulsating pings were arcing closer, fired off by the quartet of Scarabs.

We needed a bit of breathing room, and fast. "Consuela, querida, load the EMP torpedo."

Two beeps followed by the sound of winches and pulleys activating in the back. While the torpedo was being loaded, I programmed an intercept vector which would lead it into the path of the oncoming projectiles.

A repeating, screeching warning noise announced the impending impact. Snarling, I hit the "launch" button. The torpedo roared out of the aft tube and streaked away. The interceptors arced away from Consuela, assuming the projectile was headed for them -- or they didn't want to stick around to see how the eight missiles would tear my ship apart.

Two seconds later, the torpedo exploded, releasing a huge EMP shockwave, frying the missiles' guidance systems.

"Disaster averted," I muttered, checking the scanner.

A moment later, a furious impact rocked the ship. Most of the starboard armor was gone, leaving only a thin layer of hull plating. "Aw, come the fuck on!" I had forgotten about the frigate!

Phase Wolf Four disappeared as his interceptor was torn apart by another salvo from Jenala's turret.

I rolled Consuela around so her left side faced the incoming frigate before transferring the torpedo launch control aft. "Jenala, be so kind to arm, aim and fire the torpedo please."

"Torpedo? Sounds pretty archaic, even for my standards."

"You haven't seen a skipper yet, have you? Anyway, forget the fighters. We need to do something about that frigate. One more broadside and your journey ends in a sad little debris field on the ass end of the Nor Republic." I executed every evasive maneuver I had ever learned -- and some which were pure desperation. Several projectiles fired by the frigate missed the ship. Others clipped Consuela's back end, taking out two maneuvering jets.

"What's a 'skipper?'"

"I'll explain later. Just make sure it has the frigate locked on."

The loading mechanism whirred and chugged along, much too slowly for my taste. The last interceptor was pulverized by a lucky hit from the automated bottom turret but the Scarabs were almost in firing range too.

"I have a lock. Firing!" The thrum of the launch catapult was the exclamation point to Jenala's words. The skipper torpedo left the tube, drifted in space and vanished.

"Where did it go?"

I quietly counted. Three, two, one. Where the frigate was just a moment ago, a new miniature star came into being as the torpedo detonated somewhere near its power core. I wasn't keen on bloodshed, true, but when my ass was on the line, I could be as ruthless as the worst of them.

"And there go two megacredits," I muttered. The Scarabs suddenly turned away, back into the debris field. My comms rang.

I took the call.

Nemex, the left side of his face covered by a hard shell made from medical plastics, glared at me. "You are dead, human. No matter where you think you're going, my guys will be waiting for you and your silver-haired cunt. And when they're done with you, you will wish you'd come quietly. No one fucks with Sistain Nemex! No one fucks with the Black Scorpions!" The screen went dark.

A cheerful chime announced we had just left the system's gravity well. I programmed a course and fired up the FTL drive.

So much for boring passenger runs. So much for "easy money." Fuck me.

* * * *

"Well, if it ain't the galaxy's Most Wanted," Ylzics said. The Gray fixer rubbed his long, spidery hands against each other. "What's up?"

"Let me guess. Nemex has put a bounty on my head?"

"Yours and that Seeker's." Ylzics tapped a key on his comms and a picture of Jenala flickered to life, taken by a surveillance cam back on Waystation 36.

"How much?"

"What, gonna turn yourself in?"

"Just to gauge how deep we're in Dragon guano."

"Fifty megacredits for either of you. Alive, mind you. Half that if in bits. What the fuck did you do to piss him off so much?"

"I didn't do anything. My passenger carved up his face when he didn't take 'no' for an answer." I shook my head. "Fifty million credits? That means every lowlife this side of Pirate's Haven will be on our ass."

"Uh-huh." Ylzics nodded sagely. "If I were you, I'd hop out the nearest airlock."

"Not gonna happen. Any idea how well we can be tracked?"

"Oh, plenty. The bounty notice is everywhere on the VRNet, including transponder signature, FTL drive wavelength and full ship specs. In short, you're pretty damn fucked, Sal."

"Great, just great. I can't simply abandon my ship. Neira would probably kill me."

"Have you spoken to her yet?"

"She's next on the list. First I need to find a shipyard to patch up my baby. She got hit pretty badly and with almost three months of FTL ahead, I'd rather be in tip-top shape." I sighed. "With that bounty on my head, it has to be somewhere quiet -- and not affiliated with the Scorps." I took a sip of coffee.

"Where are you?"

"Can I trust you with that info?"

"That's your call to make, not mine. But if it's any help, the bounty only applies to your bodies, not any hints to your whereabouts. I'm probably not gonna rat you out. Not unless the offer is worthwhile."

"How incredibly generous of you." I was flat out of options and my list of allies was shorter than a Gray's attention span. Even with the structural integrity field running, I was afraid sooner rather than later, any impact to Consuela's right side might open up a hole I couldn't fix with a blowtorch and some Armorgrade hull patches. "Fine. We took off from the Waystation at five-eight-eight mark two-four-two. FTL factor twelve for the past eight hours."

Jenala was still asleep after our adventure on the Waystation. Even if I wanted, I was too hopped up on adrenaline and fear to even consider taking a nap.

Ylzics consulted a star map. "You should reach the B9-Taurus system in about three standard days. One of my contacts runs a salvage operation there. Maybe they have some spares for you."

I made a quick note. "B9-Taurus. Got it. What do I owe you?"

"On the house."

"How come?"

"Sal, even I have a bit of empathy. You don't kick a man who's already down. Also, you will need every last credit."

"Your contact such a sleazeball?"

"You'll see when you get there. Anything else while we're at it?"

"Yeah. Both you and Nemex have called my passenger 'a Seeker.' What the fuck is a Seeker?"

Ylzics shot me a joyless grin. "You better ask her. Your comms bill must be astronomical right about now."

"Aw, fuck. You're right. Thanks, Ylzics."

"Don't mention it. And Sal -- if you ever find yourself taping some horizontal tango with your guest..."

I cut the connection and placed my coffee mug in the cup holder by my knee. Adjusting the course to hit the B9-Taurus system took me only a few moments since my original course would have passed the system close by anyway. All I needed to do was slightly alter the angle of approach and program a new braking point.

Then I called Neira.

"I was wondering when you'd finally call," she said without greeting or preamble. "How are you?" There seemed to be genuine relief in her voice.

"Um... fine I guess," I said, taken aback by the unfamiliar show of emotion from her. "Have you heard?"

"Heard? Sal, even a deaf and blind Gray would have heard the hissy fit Nemex has been pitching. What the hell happened?"

I quickly recounted our meeting and how we blew up a few of his company's space assets.

Neira shot me a pearly smile. "Going by the bounty and his screaming, I thought you ass-raped him and skinned some of his pets right in front of his eyes."

"You sound disappointed."

Another smile. "Nemex is... what is that bird called on your world? He's a 'peacock,' emphasis 'cock.' A little drama queen."

"Who just put out a fifty million megacredits bounty on my head and that of my passenger. Even if he's more bark than bite, this much money will attract all kinds of trouble."

"It won't. I have just spoken to Nemex."

"You what?"

Neira tapped a button on her desk. My comms flickered as some new connection protocol was engaged. "Privacy Mode -- encryption increased" scrolled along the bottom edge of the screen.

"I said: I have spoken to Nemex. I laid claim to the bounty. After all, you're mine." She chuckled. "Don't glower at me like that. This whole situation can be a major windfall for the both of us," she said, seeking eye contact through the camera. "I'll make your troubles go away and end up with a freaking Psycarium operation as a bonus."

"Speaking of troubles: I had a doctor look at the Nano-Shot you set me up with. 'A little cluster' my ass."

"Don't be like that. When I first met you, I needed to make sure you didn't bail on me the first time you had the chance. Nothing personal, Salvador. By now I know what a loyal soul you are. I'm almost inclined to send you the recipe for the counter-agent."

"Almost, huh?"

"How about this? If my plan actually works, you'll not only get the counter-agent to the Nano-Shot but a few million credits extra. After all, it's your bounty to begin with." She laughed, a genuine, warm sound I hadn't heard from her outside of the bedroom.

"Carrot and stick again. Great. What's this plan you keep mentioning?"

"I need a bit of help from the two of you. You do have a high-res holo cam, don't you?"

"What for?"

"I need nudes. You and your guest, kneeling and handcuffed. Maybe gagged. As high-res as possible."

"And then?"

"Then my IT girl will fabricate a nice little simulation to lure Nemex out of his hidey hole. We meet on neutral ground, just him and I and my trusty sidearm. I've had my eyes on his operation for some time now and his little Felinoid export trade is drawing way too much attention. I mean, you can make a killing with the Psycarium mine alone, why risk the attention of the Republic?"

"I have a feeling he's not only doing it for the money. You should have seen his pet."

"Golden fur? Saber teeth? Marked? I've seen it." Neira shuddered. "I've seen him sic it on one of the strippers in Club Stardust. It was fun watching them fuck up to the moment the Feli-monster used its teeth on her innards."

I winced at the mental image and decided to return to the topic at hand. "You think you can pull off a heist like that?"

Neira stood up from behind her desk and walked around it. "I wouldn't contemplate the idea if the risks were too great." A self-conscious grin tugged at her lips. "See it this way -- if the thing goes sideways, your debt will be waived."

"And woe to me if someone should find the detonator for the Nano-Shot on you."

"Then wish me luck. Don't forget the holos, okay?" Neira reached for the comms controls. "And Sal? Be careful out there." She cut the connection.

That was... unexpected. I thought I knew how Neira ticked by now but the Gravon was still able to surprise me, both with her ambition and her sudden empathy. I've always known she was ruthless but her putting a plan together to not only usurp but maybe kill Nemex? It was brilliant, all things considered. If she indeed managed to pull it off, that is. I checked the autopilot once more before I peeled myself out of the pilot's seat.

Jenala and I needed to talk. I opened the door to the cabin and quietly entered. My client was still fast asleep, a radiant smile on her lips. Her hair framed her face like a silver halo and the covers had moved during her sleep, exposing a shapely breast. I undressed and used the bathroom, showering the sweat of the past eight stressful hours off me. Sufficiently cleansed, I returned to the cabin, put on a fresh pair of briefs and gently touched her shoulder.

Her hand clasped mine. "I'm awake."

"Did I make too much noise?"

Jenala sat up and gently shook her head. "Not really. The running shower was enough." She released my hand and stretched, not minding the covers dropping down to waist level. "Did something happen?"

I sat down on the edge of the mattress and told her what had happened with Ylzics and Neira.

"Do you think she can get away with such an ambitious plan?" Jenala asked.

"For her plan to even get off the ground, she needs holo pics of the both of us. Naked, kneeling and handcuffed, preferably gagged."

Jenala made a sour face. "That's humiliating. But I think I understand why. Do you have the means to take the required pictures?" She plucked her flip-up comms from the nightstand and inspected it critically "I don't think this thing will cut it."

My comms was a higher-grade model but not by much. In the name of miniaturization, sacrifices were made and any camera lenses tended to be small, which would limit their resolution.

Then inspiration struck. The sensors in the scanning tubes also used holographic recording tech to construct the readouts. I didn't have access to a scanning tube but each auto-doc had a handheld med scanner for diagnostics. So I opened the wall panel which hid the auto-doc and pulled forth the scanner. It transmitted the data wirelessly and, checking the settings, I noticed I could route the data stream into all kinds of systems, including Consuela's AI core where my ship's bird brain could stitch together a life-like representation from the gathered data.

"Want to give it a try? I mean, you're already naked..." I said, winking.

"Shouldn't we make it more believable? I'm in pristine condition, more or less." Jenala swung her legs out of bed. "And while you're at it, you could perform the check-up Najali suggested."