Peacock
13 Feb 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Peacock
Colonia Region
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Being turned around like a peacock was not what I envisioned when Aby said I needed to dress for success. I admit, the onesie Remlock suit looked good, but not its price. Distances were long, and those fleeing to Colonia to escape the insanity of the bubble and their perverted crusade against the alien menace were bringing the fight back to them.
I was part of the same species and would be the last to deny that the race I was a part of had to be the most ignorant and arrogant amongst any who ever tread among the stars. When you throw a punch, don’t be surprised if one comes back in your direction, probably from something or someone you should have never thrown it at, to begin with.
They said there were protons, electrons, and positrons, and then there were the morons. More morons were fluttering about than there was dark matter to contain them all. At one time, I filled my cargo holds with what they were peddling around and made myself rich doing it. I made even greater wealth by descending on what used to be my own ilk, making even more from their bounties, and sometimes their cargo.
Now I was looking at the tail-end price of all that hubris. The wild migration to get away from it all had driven prices through the atmosphere and into the stars. Sure, there were more supply capital ships than ever before, but even their large girths could barely contain enough cargo to deal with the population boom.
I turned around once more as the beady-eyed tailor-made his final adjustments. It was close to what I already had, but this one was tailored. It spoke of someone who cared about appearances and was a professional, even though I didn’t have the start of a clue about being a business transport pilot.
My Python-class ship had its new modules installed, and a fresh coat of paint had been applied. A subtle yet brilliant ice white graced her surface, without a blemish to be seen. The reinforced armored hull plating was evident, and the androids knew their craft. The shadows accented its protective hide, which Aby said would be a nice visual cue to clients that they were protected.
I would have thought the firepower she had would have screamed that loud enough, but liquored-up businessmen would be paying for a safe journey to whatever mistress they had waiting on the conference tables a system or two removed.
While I was being dolled up, the service droids were stocking the ship, with the android assistants that Aby had purchased on my account, guiding their efforts. Anything a client would need on their short journeys that would make them willingly separate themselves from their credits.
The tailor stood up, giving me a pat on the shoulder, as I twisted one way and then the other in front of the mirror. Damn, this old pirate looked good, but not that good.
***
Looking at all the amenities Aby had purchased made me rethink this venture that the crazy android was setting me on. I could live like a king with everything I saw, and be fattened for the slaughter, as the memory of what Aby said to me a couple of days ago came to mind.
There was a separate concern I hadn’t raised, and I knew it would be coming when humans and alcohol were mixed. “Listen, Aby. What about security? I don’t care who it is, how they are connected, or how big their wallets are. The moment they get in my face…”
“Yes, this has been seen too,” Aby replied, cutting me off. “A nice tailored cocktail that will be immediately administered and will have no ill effects on our client.”
“I thought you were wanting me to stay off the local authorities' scanners. Drugging clients is the opposite, not that it isn’t an interesting idea.”
“To the contrary, it is legal in all charters, both here and in the bubble. It is a non-lethal accepted means to prevent violent acts by the unwilling, either by conscious design or through the inclusion of other substances, such as alcohol. It is harmless and has no ill side effects. They will awaken rested, sober, and more amiable.”
This darn droid was five steps ahead of me, and that was a good thing?
“So, where do we begin this show?”
Aby looked at me, in the unnerving way that androids do. “A selection is ready for your approval. Pick from those you are willing to do, and they will present themselves and begin boarding. I will be with you through each step.”
I didn’t know if I should take that as a comfort or a curse.
The process seemed straight forward enough. Aby said I would only be responding to messages from the travel agents and not have to interact with the passengers. My dress for success was for appearances only, whenever I decided to go for a stroll around a station or an outpost. Outside of that I could wear whatever I liked.
It seemed like a waste of credits to me, but what do I know. For me marketing was having plenty of limpets, to break hatches and collect what came out, and advertising was a rail gun shot to their thrusters.