Express Delivery

Next on the agenda were the busted maneuvering jets. Since we already had

decoupled the engine bays, all it took was a few hours with a wrench and a Herc to replace them. Jenala enjoyed her new role as mech driver while San'yas and I replaced the faulty components. I made sure to also replace a few other bits and bobs which looked like they were on their way out, which nicely rounded out the day. San'yas' seemingly infinite spare parts reserves made overhauling old parts a snap.

* * * *

"Heh, Consuela has an erection," Jenala said, giggling.

Looking at the new nose of my ship, I could only agree. Before, the ship had resembled a flying dildo, with a boxy rear and the long, slender nose of the Lucanos interceptor. Now, with the angled corridor segment holding up the bulbous Antares cockpit, it appeared as if the ship indeed sported a stubby boner.

"She's not as aesthetically pleasing as your typical Nor ship but I can see the value of function over form," San'yas said, hands on her hips. "Two mass drivers, two disintegrator cannons and your complement of gun turrets make for a fearsome combination."

"Do you think the chassis can take the strain of the 'erection?'" I asked San'yas.

"Of course. After all, we not only mounted the staircase to the main structural reinforcements of what was once the blockade runner, we also added extra reinforcements to help balance the stress. If you had secondary controls in the back, you could probably use the cockpit as a ram."

"I'm not a fan of suicide runs," I said, massaging my face. "Now that the cockpit is installed, the wiring has been done and the transponder is replaced, all we need to do now is knock all the broken armor slabs off the ship and replace them."

"Why don't you upgrade to a decent shield generator?" San'yas asked. "I could give you one. I mean, it would cut down on maintenance."

"Shields eat too much energy. I'd rather be able to out-run my enemies than having to slug it out." Grimacing, I added: "Also, the first thing which happens when a shield is involved in space combat is the power generator being fried thanks to the shields overloading and arcing back into the machine room."

San'yas shook her head. "Shield backlash happens in 'Fading Stars', believe me. Modern generators have buffers and fuses and-"

"You know my ship by now. Do I have the room for one?"

San'yas hung her head. "Okay, you have a point. Knocking off armor plates it shall be."

* * * *

Two more days passed by as we replaced all the damaged, cracked and broken armor plates with new ones. The final step was a new coat of paint.

"I barely recognize the old girl," I said, looking at the matte gray-and-gold paint job we had applied. "What a transformation. Even at eight days, it was a quick overhaul."

"Thanks to your help," San'yas purred, placing an arm around mine and Jenala's shoulders. "There's only the small matter of re-christening her."

I sighed. "You're right. With the new transponder, keeping the Consuela name would be stupid."

"So, since you tend to name your ships after important women in your life, what will the new name be?" Jenala asked. "Zeeris maybe?"

"Give it a rest already." I shot her an annoyed glare. "Just because I discovered the joys of occasional butt play doesn't mean I'm going to marry my associate's Marked sibling."

Jenala raised her hands in a warding gesture. "I was only joking."

"What does the transponder say now?" I asked the shapeshifter.

San'yas checked her computer. "I probably should reset the designation. That chip came from the NRS Hammer Of Justice."

"A bit too martial for my tastes. Also, I don't want the Nor navy to think I took one of their boats." I scratched my chin. "And I don't want to slap anything with 'Lucky' in the name on her. That only invites trouble. Maybe it's time to break with conventional naming schemes and simply run a random generator on it."

"How about we call her the Najali?" Jenala suggested. "Without her, we'd probably be dead and honoring the brave doctor seems only fitting."

"Excuse me," the ship AI said over comms. "Since this is my name we're talking about, do I get to suggest something as well?"

"Well, technically, you are just 'the AI' inside of however we're going to name the ship," I said. "But we're at an impasse anyway, so sure, have a go at it."

"I would like the ship to be called Gaia. It is an old name for 'Earth.' It never hurts to remember where one came from. Also, the name is female so it fits with the ship's previous naming scheme."

"Third time's the charm. Gaia it shall be." I turned towards San'yas. "Please, program the transponder chip accordingly. I'll fetch a sheet of cardboard and make a stencil for it."

"Sure thing." San'yas tapped enthusiastically on her touch pad. "Aaaand... done. Your ship is now registered as TCS-A25 Gaia."

"Great. While you do that, I'll synthesize a bottle of champagne," Jenala said, a wide grin on her lips. "I mean, if we're doing this, we should do it right."

* * * *

Three hours later, we were back in space. Saying 'good bye' to San'yas was harder than expected. Not only because she kept trying to seduce us right on the landing pad but because we both had grown very fond of the lonely scrap merchant. Living in the fortress ship had been like being away on a lonely island. No Black Scorpions to deal with, no Neira to worry about, only mild dread when one of my companions came at me brandishing either a sizable erection or a big dildo but even that fear could be dealt with if enough lube was involved.

"How's the sensor package?" I asked Jenala.

"Much better than the old one. I can see all of B9-Taurus and a good chunk of the surrounding void. No contacts save for San'yas' beacon."

"Great. Fewer nasty surprises that way." I set a course for Waystation 75 and turned the ship to face the new nav point hovering in space.

"Consu- fuck. Gaia, wake up."

"Yes, captain?" There was a note of apprehension in the AI's voice.

"Don't worry. I've been overruled by San'yas and Jenala. Your voice box is safe. For now."

"Hooray!"

"- but I can disable your speech routines should you get on my nerves."

"Boo?"

"Anyway, as of now, you have been promoted from bird brain to official member of the crew."

"Really?"

"Yes. You are our data-gathering specialist, understood? If you want, add 'cyber warfare' to your list of duties but I'll need to upgrade the firmware of our comms for it to become reality. Right now, our comms is a civilian system, without the capabilities to cut through ECM or any kind of serious jamming."

"I'll make good use of it."

"Great. Now here's your first job. Crawl the VRNet and find anything in regards to a certain Sistain Nemex. Find connections to Neira -- you'll probably remember her from the time she was aboard -- and any NIS activity."

"Understood, captain. How do you want the report?"

"What, do I get to choose? That's new."

"Of course. I can deliver verbal or written summaries. All in accordance to your wishes. Captain."

"Written unless it's urgent. Worked just fine before."

"Yes, captain." Again, a very noticeable hint of disappointment.

"You still have your voice box. Be grateful."

"Yes, captain."

We eventually left B9-Taurus's gravity well. I engaged the FTL drive and walked back into the kitchen. The view back to the cockpit was quite different now, with three wide steps leading to the pilot's seat and another four going down towards the co-pilot's seat. We had modified the controls so whoever occupied that place could transfer control there with a flip of a switch. The reverse was true, enabling me to take control of the new point-defense cannons if I was alone.

Flying the revamped Gaia was quite the change. Consuela had been perfectly balanced when taking off or landing but the new cockpit section was quite a bit heavier and caused the ship to dip its nose under gravity which nearly cost me the gun turret the first time we took off. Thankfully, a bit of thruster juggling and a macro in the take-off script took care of that.

"No pings on screen. You think we'll be okay from now on?" Jenala asked, undoing her seat belts.

"I think so." I put a new pot of coffee on. "It will probably be pretty boring from now on."

"You'll only say that until we meet in the bedroom, handsome," Jenala purred, hugging me from behind. "Since our time together has shrunk from two months to less than two weeks, you can bet your shapely butt-" Of course she kneaded my cheeks. "-I'll try and find every excuse to get into your pants."

"There probably won't be many coming up soon. Don't forget -- one and a half shifts each, remember?"

"Aw, come on. With Gaia as our third crew member, we should at least have eight hours per day to ourselves!"

"Sorry, Miss Jenala. Thanks to my promotion to data gathering specialist, I am no longer permitted to fly the ship. That ugly Antares bird brain shall do that. I'm not gonna touch that thing."

"Stop insulting the auto-pilot, damn it," I said. "Did you find anything in regards to my search query?"

"Yes, captain. Please activate your holo player and tune to a news channel of your choice."

With the coffee maker bubbling, I plonked the holo player into the table and dialed in the channel NBS -- the Nor Broadcasting Service -- usually transmitted on. A news broadcast flickered to life, showing an immaculately dressed Nor woman in front of a full-screen still. I immediately recognized Waystation 36 thanks to its distinctive wheel-like shape. I also recognized three large battleships circling the station, swarms of computer icons standing in for fighter swarms and another capital ship sporting the black-and-white paint scheme of the Mentalist Corps, the Republic's dreaded psionics division.

"... it is still unclear how the Black Scorpions managed to hide those horrible facilities right under the nose of the Nor Intelligence Service. As we speak, hundreds of captives are being freed from their enforced imprisonment. If you are missing any of your relatives, post a query to the links down below. The whereabouts of Sistain Nemex, the CEO of Nemex Interplanetar, are still unknown. Sources within the investigation presume he fled the scene before the full force of Nor Justice could come down on him. His personal yacht, the Zaxal'thera, Zuthrian for 'Angel of the Desert' was last been seen in the vicinity of Sol."

I turned down the volume and exchanged a look with Jenala. "Did we do this?" I asked her.

"You, Sal. I guess. You told Neira about Najali."

"Gaia, can you find out what happened to Nemex' ship?"

"Sure, captain. One moment."

The moment stretched. The coffee maker beeped, announcing a fresh hot pot ready to drink. We had poured a cup each when Gaia finally spoke.

"I have Neira on the line."

"Not what I asked for," I grumbled, syncing my comms to the holo player. "Put her through."

"Sorry but the whereabouts of the Zaxal'thera are contradictory at this point."

Neira's burgundy face flickered to life on the table. Her eyes sought mine and a warm smile tugged at her lips. "Salvador. You should have left a message. What was so urgent?"

"Never mind. Did you get Nemex?"

Her smile widened. "Oh, fuck yes. I got him good." She raised her thumb and forefinger and made a pistol with them. "Right between his eyes. He won't bother you again, nor will his cell." Her comms beeped and a bunch of Gravon letters ran along the bottom edge of the screen. "And as of right now, I own what is left of Nemex Interplanetar. Due to the compromising nature of the investigation, the stock of his mining firm has cratered, so I swept in and bought everything. As an outside investor with the promise of ridding the outfit of any Scorp influence, of course." She tossed her head back and laughed.

Once her mirth died down, she fixed me with an appreciative look. "You seem different. What happened? Still on that high-pay job you told me about?"

"Yup."

Neira moved her hand over her keyboard. My comms beeped, signaling an incoming data package. My insides knotted up in a sudden bout of fear.

All it takes is a specially modulated comms signal to set off the Nano-Shot.

"Stop shitting yourself, damn it," Neira grumbled. "Check your comms. And grow back your balls before we see each other again, okay? I've got a Psycarium op to run. How do they say it on your world? Ciao!" The connection died.

"She was a bitch, she is a bitch and she'll probably stay a bitch, until a bullet has mercy on her," Jenala snarled. "What did she send you?"

I felt my mouth go dry. No deactivation code for the Nano-Shot. But an updated payment plan. As in "an empty payment plan" with Gravon words spelling out "Your debt is paid." on it. And a cool twenty-five megacredits to my name.

"Fucking carrot and stick again," I moaned. "Will this shit never end?"

* * * *

The next five days passed in peace and quiet. Jenala seemed to withdraw into herself. She didn't turn hostile or the like but I caught her staring into space with a thoughtful expression. It sometimes took two attempts to get her attention. Something was bugging her but whenever I asked, she waved it away, only adding: "Get me home quick, please."

Finally we arrived at Waystation 75 in the Hyphelios system. This one was located on a tropical island, a massive contrast to the usually claustrophobic hollowed-out asteroids. The Hyphelites were a subspecies of Nor, genetically altered to flourish on a world mostly consisting of towering, almost impenetrable jungles. They had long, prehensile tails and colorful fur, representing all the pinks, purples, greens and blues Nor were famous for.

The visit to Waystation 75 couldn't have been more different than our adventure on Waystation 36 even if we tried. We arrived on a landing pad, spent half an hour browsing an airy open-air market restocking our supplies. Stuff was dirt cheap for once. Not that it mattered with my flush wallet. Afterwards we went for a drink, stuck to Hyphelios fruit juice and spent a quiet night making love in a seashore motel. No antics, just her and me at the beach, admiring the teal sunset while waves washed around our butts and Jenala slowly rode me for what felt like hours. She held on to me with almost fervent desperation until we finally fell asleep in each others' arms.

The next morning we hopped back into our ship -- which had garnered quite interested onlookers -- and left planet and system alike. I had to admit, I was slowly getting nervous. There had been stories of using wormholes as quick and dirty shortcuts but for each tale of derring-do and escaping the authorities (or the Scorps), there were three about a ship entering a wormhole and exiting as a spectacular light show and pile of debris.

Three days after leaving Hyphelios, I throttled Gaia's engines. Before us, like a spectacular maelstrom twisting even the fabric of space, hung the wormhole. Even across the system, the gravitational forces tugging at the ship were almost on par with a TransNet entry. Thanks to the new power core, we could both run the engines and structural integrity field at a hundred and twenty percent.

"You're the boss here, Jenala," I said. "I think I can get us through the hole in one piece. Or we could take the long way. Only two months and a bit."

"No. I think I want to get this over with quickly." She undid her seat belts and joined me next to my seat. "Can we hold this position for a few minutes?"

I checked the readouts. Engine output and integrity field were at a hundred and twenty percent. The power core hummed away quietly, not even close to the redline.

"Sure. Coffee?"

"Later. Just come with me." She strode past me, to the cabin. I activated the autopilot, slid out of my chair (which still had the 'new spaceship' smell on it -- no piss, sweat, blood and panic had soaked into it yet!) and joined her in the bedroom.

"Will you tell me now what's been bugging you ever since we left San'yas? Do you miss her?"

"Yes, of course," she said, embracing me. "But that's only part of it. You see, there is a distinct possibility I might not be able to leave again once I've returned to the fleet. At least not any time soon."

"Why not? You are a scout and a damn fine one at that. They would be stupid to keep you grounded."

"You don't know much about my home," she said. "And I wish I could clue you in fully. But for your safety, I shouldn't. Mother isn't too keen on foreign influences... tainting her children. If I am deemed too far gone, I might have to undergo Purification until my state of mind is acceptable again."

"It almost sounds like something the Faceless hive mind would do," I snarled, hugging her tightly. No idea where it came from but my protective instinct roared deafeningly.

"I hope she realizes I'm worth much more out here with you than back there with them." She sighed. "Even if I don't have to be purified, there is the small matter of the Lottery. I'm old enough to bear children and I've used my chance to avoid it by leaving the fleet."

"I don't get even half of what you're trying to tell me," I said. "You're sure you don't want to share?"

Jenala looked into my eyes. It was obvious, even to me, that she wanted to share her burden with me, much like San'yas had done. She bit her lip and put her determined face in place. "I shouldn't, really. I... I wanted to say it was an honor to have met you. And everything which happened after I stumbled in on your furry threesome." The kiss came out of nowhere, forceful enough to topple us onto the bed. Or desperate. No idea which. I only noticed hot tears spilling from her eyes.

"Hey, hey... no crying," I whispered, carefully dabbing at her tears with a thumb. "It won't be so bad. I've seen you fight."

Jenala sniffled and sat up, straddling me. "You haven't seen Mother. Or my soldier sisters. Or the psi-adepts. There are things in the fleet so much scarier than being tentacle fucked by a love-starved Faceless." She giggled softly. "All the more reason to get this over with quickly. I don't want to stew in my own fear for two more months. Believe me, you won't like me that much."

"Do you turn green and dangerous?"

"No, but my sword hand might slip. Let's get this over with."

* * * *

We returned to the cockpit and strapped back in. The trick with jumping through a wormhole was to hit it as close to the center as possible, a feat made quite a bit more difficult by the mammoth forces tearing at the ship. The last time I had used such a Smuggler's Shortcut was during my apprentice years on a freighter which had been about ten times the size of my current ship and it had almost been torn apart. At least Gaia was a quick, nimble boat, with much more imminent reaction to any course corrections. I hoped speed and maneuverability would be enough to get us through in one piece.

I turned the engines to full thrust forwards, took the stick and rode the currents of gravity. When I thought the ship was about to be ripped apart, when every hull plate seemed to sing and scream and the AI was pleading for her life, we reached the edge of the wormhole and dove straight through. From one moment to the next, there was utter calm and peace. The ship settled around us -- only to resume screaming and rattling as the hole spat us out on the other end. The view was different, the stars sat at strange angles and instead of an almost empty system, we emerged in yet another debris field. The power core hit the redline as the engines fought to push us away from the horrible gravitational pull the wormhole exerted on this side as well.