Search and Destroy
23 Dec 2015Desert Fox CXVII
Boudica shudders as she drops from witchspace and the system's red giant fills my cockpit's window. Immediately I am hailed by a Utopian Overseer welcoming me to the system. I never liked Utopian space; there was just something unnerving about how friendly everyone is. Plus, there are the stories you hear about the re-education camps where people who break the etiquette laws are sent. I can only imagine what kind of weird psychological torture goes on in them. Of course, Antal denies the existence of any such camps, but the rest of the galaxy knows the truth. I shudder in my seat and return the hail, hoping my response satisfies the Overseer. Thankfully all I get is the standard "don't cause trouble," warning, with a little added Utopian civility.
On top of that, I was shadowed by two more Overseers, all the way to the station. The weirdos even dropped into real-space to escort me to the mail slot.
With one eye on the tail, I hail the tower. "Tower, this is Boudica, requesting docking permissions."
"Permissions granted, Commander. Utopia welcomes you. Please proceed to heading 575.1 and enter a holding pattern." His voice was serene and deadpan, like someone high on onionhead.
"Uh, roger that tower."
I flew the holding pattern for a good twenty minutes, my tail still on me like a hatch breaker the whole time. In that time at least four ships left the station and only one entered. I could only assume they were checking my identity and debating whether or not to detain me and send me to a re-education camp.
Thankfully they decided against it, and I received another hail. "You are cleared for final approach, would you kindly proceed to heading 001.2 and call the ball?"
I break off my pattern and line up with the mail slot. "Tower, this is Boudica, I have the ball."
"Splendid, Boudica has the ball. Please switch to channel 13 and continue to your pad, commander."
Once I'd landed and changed into my favorite grey suit, I step down the gangplank, only to be greeted by three blank face deckhands.
"How can we help you today, sir?" says the one in the middle.
I stare at them, absentmindedly fiddling with my cuff links. "Uh... just fuel for right now boys."
"At once, sir." They plod off, eyes unfocused.
I feel another shiver running down my spine. Christ these people give me the willies.
----------
The familiar weight of my side arm gives me some form of comfort as I walk through the pristine streets of the station. Most of the people I see are dressed in some form of flowing toga-like robes, but sprinkled among the crowd are people in Imperial black and grey or Federation brown.
I'm still being followed; I can't see them, but I can't shake the eerie feeling of eyes on me. No use worrying, though; I'll never be able to shake them. This is their home turf. Plus I don't want to give them any more reason to suspect me.
After almost an hour of walking, I arrive at a small tea shop nestled in a side street on the low income part of town. The Tranquil Garden is written in flowing letters on the door. Must be the place. Without any ceremony, I open the door. A bell tinkles somewhere in the back of the shop as I step inside.
The room is dim and thick with sweet smelling smoke. Pots of tea sitting on small burners are scattered all over. Around them are people sprawled on various couches and cushions, all of them in varying states of unconsciousness. So it was that kind of tea house.
A small bespectacled man approaches the counter from a back room, and fixes a wide smile on his face. "Welcome to the Tranquil Garden, where all your worries melt away. How can I help you?"
Steeling myself, I adopt a haughty and aloof expression and approach the counter. "I'm looking for someone."
The man's smile grows wider. "Well you're in luck; there are plenty of someones here." He sweeps an arm across the room. "Take your pick."
Grinding my teeth, I pull a datapad from my coat pocket. "A particular someone."
"Oh?" The man bends over the counter and peers at the datapad. On it is the Pilot's Fed ID of Anastasia Reid. His smile falters for a brief moment. Gotcha. "A thousand pardons sir, but I do not know this woman."
A wolfish grin creeps over my face as I stow the pad away. "You know what I find amusing?" His smile falters again. "When I know for a fact that someone is lying to my face."
"I assure you, sir, I am not-"
"I have it on very good authority that this woman frequents this tea shop. I know what she does in that back room, and I know you take a cut to look the other way. I know you lace your tea with sugar and opium to make it seem like your product is of a higher quality. I'm sure the overseers would love to hear about that, wouldn't you say?" He's starting to sweat and his cheery demeanor is melting away with every word I speak. "There are a couple of them outside, actually. They're following me, in fact." I jab my thumb at the door. "I could go get them, if you like?"
Of course, I was bluffing; I had no idea what the woman did in the back room, and I was only guessing that he laced his tea. Even if it was true, there was no guarantee that the Overseers outside would even listen to me.
But it seemed to be working. I take a step backwards towards the door, my thumb still pointing at it. He is visibly nervous now, his smile gone and his eyes darting around the room. I take another step. His knuckles are white as he clutches the counter. Another step. His fingernails digging into the wood surface. Another step. His eyes are bulging out of their sockets and a vein is pulsing in his temple. I'm almost at the door.
"Alright! Ok, you win!" He gasps. "Please, just don't call the Overseers."
I beam at him, but inside I sigh with relief. "See? I knew you had some sense." I step back to the counter and lean up against it. My jacket falls open, revealing my pistol. Hey eyes it with trepidation. "Now, I'd very much like to have a word with this woman. Where is she?"
He gulps audibly. "She's away. I don't know where she goes."
"But she'll be back?"
"Yes."
"When?" I growl.
"Soon!" He squeaks. "She said she had just gotten back from a big job and she wanted to celebrate!"
"Was that so hard? Now, I want you to come with me to the back room. We're going to wait for her together. That way you can't warn her. How's that sound?"
He nods without saying anything. His hands are shaking and the blood had gone from his face. I nod to the door behind him, and he turns around to open it.
------
And so I sat in the dark, my sidearm trained on the frightened man. A cigarette dangles from my lips, bathing my face in a warm orange glow. Smoke slowly fills the room as we wait, casting a grey haze over everything.
After what seemed like an eternity, I hear the door open and the tinkle of a bell.
"Chandra? I'm back!"
I look over at the man and hold a finger to my lips. "Not a sound," I whisper.
"Chandra? Where are you? The burners are out." I can hear her footsteps approaching the room where I lie in wait.
"You there?" My heart is pounding in my ears.
"Is everything ok?" A bead of sweat drips down my neck and under my collar.
"You in here?" She's right outside the door; I can almost hear her breathing.
"I'm coming in." I bear my teeth in a savage grin as the door swishes open and she steps inside.
"Hello Anastasia." I sweep the muzzle of the pistol over onto her silhouette. "Miss me?"
She stops in her tracks and turns towards me. I Imagine all I am to her is a floating head illuminated by the faint glow of the cigarette. "Who are you?"
"Forgotten me already? I thought we had such a grand old time. I'm hurt." I take a drag on my cigarette. "But not as hurt as I was when I found out what you stole from me."
The lights flick on. There she is, dressed in a black synth-leather jacket and brown cargo pants, her reddish-purple hair pulled into a pony-tail at the crown of her head. Recognition fills her face when she catches sight of me.
"Remember me now?" I drawl.
"Chandra, you need to leave. Get everyone out and lock up." She doesn't look away from me while she speaks, reminding me of that night in the Bleeding Crown. To his credit, the man doesn't hesitate. He hurries to his feet and scurries out the door, closing it behind him. On the other side, I can hear him bustling around and rousing his patrons. The both of us sit in silence until we hear the front door close and lock.
She speaks first. "So, how did you find me?"
I chuckle. "Oh believe me, it wasn't easy. Had to call in a favor from someone I really would rather not owe. Then I had to track you all the way out here; and I'll tell you, I try not to come out to Utopia if I can help it. But you-" I gesture at her with the barrel of the gun. "Are worth it."
"Don't I feel special." Slowly, she sinks into a chair opposite me.
"Oh you should; I don't go to all this trouble for just any woman."
"So what do you want?"
"Oh, I'd very much like to decorate the wall with the inside of your skull." I drop the cigarette to the floor and grind it out with my heel. "But that wouldn't do anybody any good. Well..." I chuckle again. "It would make me feel warm and fuzzy inside, but then I'd be in the same position I started out in. Guess I'll settle for where my AI and data drive are."
"I don't have them." There is an edge of sarcasm to her voice that I really don't appreciate.
"I figured. So I'll ask again, where are they?"
"Sold 'em."
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand. "To who?"
Her prosthetic's servos whir as she cross her arms. "I don't know."
"Miss, I will shoot you."
"Then how would you find out where your stuff is?"
"Never said I would kill you. I hear kneecaps are pretty important. And besides, it's not like I'd loose much by killing you, since you don't know anything." I cock my head to one side and smile at her.
Her grey eyes flick to the muzzle of the pistol and back to me. She's doing her best not to look rattled. To be fair, she was doing a good job, but I could tell by how she's clenching her jaw and jiggling her foot that I was getting to her. Good. Let her be nervous for a change.
"So, what'll it be? You going to tell me, or am I going to have to get you a new prosthetic?"
She chews her lip, weighing her options. After a few seconds, she scoffs and breaks eye contact. "Christ, fine. They aren't paying me enough to get shot over this."
I give her one of the smiles I keep reserved for politicians, even though I'm sighing with relief inside. "I'm glad you made the right choice, Miss Reid. Now, would you kindly tell me who you you sold the items to?"
"Feds."
Oh shit.
"Did I hear you right? You sold them to the Federation?"
"Um... yes?"
Oh shit!
"You have no idea who I am do you?" I run my fingers through my hair, trying to think how I could fix this.
"I mean, you're some Imperial noble. They didn't tell me much; just where to go and what to grab." She looks bewildered and more than a little frightened. Odin's beard, she really had no idea what she'd done.
"Do you really think some puffed up duke would personally track you down for a list of his mistresses? You just gave highly sensitive tactical and strategic information to the fucking Feds!" I spring to my feet, murder in my eyes and a snarl on my lips. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you."
And there it is, that smirk of hers. The smirk that I had thought was so attractive a few days ago was now infuriating me to no end. "What could you possibly be smiling about? This isn't a game."
"I'll give you two reasons. Reason one: if you kill me, those overseers I saw hanging outside the shop will come in here the moment you pull that trigger. It'll be off to a re-education camp for you"
"And what's reason two?" I growl through clenched teeth.
"Oh, reason two?" She stands up. "Well, that's simple." She advances on me until her stomach is pressed against the muzzle of my sidearm. "I know where they are."
I glare at her, but decide to humor her. "Where?"
"AF Leporis."