The question of my complications weighs on my mind. It was so human of me. I was so bored of that terrible station, I’d forgotten to consider the finer details of my heist. Like how to get the system into my hold. I got lucky that these two survived, but now they were free to wander my empty vacuum of a hold.
The woman from earlier doesn’t wander, though. She sits in her ship, where I can’t see details about what she does. Either she’s been spied on before, or she’s been trained. Interesting. She’s also intelligent, for a human. She will likely be able to put two and two together at some point during the transit period. When she does, it will be interesting to see how she reacts.
The other seems far more curious. Rather than remain in the ship, they choose to examine every inch they have access to, going around the hold, looking over every empty crate and seem in the hull. I don’t know whether they’re smart enough to put it together, they haven't said a word since they arrived. Even if they are smart enough, they’re far too preoccupied to figure anything out beyond the details of one of my holds.
It is one hour and two minutes in when the second human speaks for the first time, over their suit comms. I don’t know whether or not they know I’m listening to their comms, but to the second one, I doubt that matters. “Alright, Eesh, this place’s definitely been cleared out but it looks like an old security cargo hold. Not fighter equipped. Rails and storage areas tell me this would hold one, maybe two larger boarding lighters. I’m not sure this makes any sense, but I’d say the construction's about four centuries old.” Interesting, he isn’t smart, but he certainly knows what he’s talking about. Had he been smart, he would’ve avoided saying that on any sort of digital communication system.
“Of course you are,” the woman, Eesh evidently, says over their comm unit, exasperated.
The man replies, “I am what?” But I know. She isn’t talking to him. She’s talking to me.
“Not talking to you Seb,” she says back, confirming my suspicion, “So, how do you plan on killing us? Dropping the hold with the gravdrive running?”
The man, Seb, is clearly confused. “The captain promised he wouldn’t kill us, remember?”
“The captain isn’t what you think they are,” Eesh says to him.
I interject, “That doesn’t mean I don’t keep my word.” I tend to keep my word, so long as promises made are kept the other way as well.
“Then why aren’t we headed to Astro territory?” she asks me.
“Because they very rudely tried to decommission me.”
Seb catches us, a bit, “Wait, you’re talking to the ship. Four centuries, talking ship, HOLY CRAPNUGGETS, this is a Piu dreadnought, isn’t it?”
“I am,” I say, at the same time that Eesh replies, “Yes.”
“That’s awesome,” Seb states. I am somewhat surprised. Everyone else has seemed to have something closer to the woman’s reaction, suspicion mixed with fear. The man’s exuberance is somewhat refreshing. Like when you nuke a ship’s gravdrive just right without destroying its atmosphere and it implodes into a beautiful flaming sphere as it goes through the collapse into a micro-blackhole. Beautiful, though I know it will likely happen only once in a million chances.
“I am awesome,” I reply to the exuberant man, “Call me Destro.”
“What’s it like being one with a ship, Destro?” he asks, then realizing he’s being rude, adds, “Oh, yeah. I’m Seb. I mean Sebastian.”
“Seb, shut up,” Eesh commands her companion. Clearly, she’s in charge between the two of them. “So, what is your next move, Destro?”
“Honestly,” I answer her, “I don’t know. I know, I know. How human of me. But after a couple centuries shut down, and a few years awake travelling without up to date galactic charts or any active Entertainment Modules, I was very bored.” It’s always good to be honest, especially when being honest sounds somewhat intimidating while also indicating personal flaws.
“Wait,” she says, with the reaction I want her to have, “You mean you took out our ship without any planning?”
“Don’t feel threatened, it isn’t like that transport had any defenses,” I say.
“Wait a second, you had the full rotation, extended laser array,” Seb suddenly interjects, as though my mention of their lack of defenses jogs his memory, “Eesh, this isn’t a Piu dreadnought, this is one of the twenty-five. The super-dreadnoughts.”
The woman, however, ignores her subordinate. “So, what is your new plan, Destro?”
“Well, we’re headed to a Freeport, to get the stealth system installed. After that, I agreed to terrify and murder some pirates for the Freeports. Technically, I’m becoming a freeport in and of myself.” I pause to judge their response. Neither say anything, and given that one is out of visual range and the other is in a spacesuit, I can’t see a thing on their faces. I continue, “As far as you two, I was planning on waiting for your reactions to figuring me out.”
“And, now that we’ve reacted?” she asks.
I produce a digital chuckle. It sounds just a little off. “Well, you took seven minutes and forty-three seconds slower than predicted to figure it out. Sebastian took far too long to figure it out, but his reaction to the information was a pleasant surprise.”
“What reaction?” Seb asks. SO it wasn’t an intentional reaction, he is legitimately excited to be in my presence. Fun, a human who knows their place in the universe.
The woman sighs. “You haven’t answered me.”
She continues to show me she’s smart. “Well, in an effort to shut me down, they stripped my repair units out of the ship. Would you be interested in keeping my systems in working order?” I ask the pair.
“Why would we agree to that?” she asks before Seb can say anything.
“Well,” I answer, once again honestly, “I’ll pay you. And, as a bonus that your former bosses won’t offer, I won’t kill you.”
“Ah ah ah,” she says, thinking she caught me, “You already promised that we’ll live. It would be going back on your word to kill us.”
I once again make a chuckle noise. “I wasn’t saying I’ll kill you. When we land, the moment things are all installed and working, you’ll be free to do whatever. But, I know corps. Unless they’ve changed whole hell of a lot, they’ll kill you the moment you report back that you lost an entire prototype stealth system.” After a brief pause for effect, I add, “Really, you two should thank me for saving your lives. Albeit by kidnapping you.”
“Seb, can you come back into the shuttle?” the woman says, “Let us confer and get back to you.”
“You have around fifty minutes.” I reply and go back to my soap operas. I have four three centuries worth of soaps to watch.
As I turn off my gravdrive and shift my thrusters into reverse to stop the Obiettivita within light-seconds of Libertorum, I pull up two comms channels simultaneously. First, I hail Portus Libertorum, stating, “This is Captain Destro, for Stationmaster Vincento.” At the same time, I inform my temporary hostages slash possible employees, “We’re coming in to port. Are you taking the job or not?”
The first to reply is the woman in my cargo hold. “We’ll take the job, under one condition. We can leave the job whenever we’d like and you won’t kill us for it.”
“Okay, then. Welcome aboard the Obiettivita. I suppose you’ll want me to turn back on life support?” I reply.
As I’m talking to my new employees, Vincento responds, “Sorry, that was faster than I anticipated. Give me a minute to get a bay ready for you.”
“That’s alright,” I reply to him, coyly, “You’re only human.”
While I say this to Vincento, Seb replies, “At some point, sure, though I think we want to stay with this baby, make sure she’s installed right. And, I assume the station will be pumping in atmosphere for its workers’ benefits.”
“They did last time,” I tell Seb. Then I inquire, “I know Sebastian’s name, but could I have yours, new employee? It would be helpful in informing the other workers of your employment and position.”
The woman replies, “My name is Aisha, I’m the former Vice Chief of Engineering on the HSCF New Williamsonville. Sebastian is one of my techs.”
Overlapping, though staggered by one point three seconds, is Vincento informing me, “Bay Seventeen has been emptied for you, proceed to dock.”
“Thank you, Aisha. It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” I say to the woman, at the same time that I ask Vincento, “Would you kindly put me in touch with whoever you have in charge of the install crew? I have some details to discuss with them.”
“Of course,” Vincento states, “His name’s Alphonso, on the station repair frequency.” Even though we both know I already have that frequency, he does the polite thing, running through the exact numbers for it.
“Many thanks,” I tell Vincento as I navigate into the bay. Then, I open up to the station repair frequency. “Alphonso?” I ask.
“Here,” a gruff voice replies.
I try to make my voice as creepy yet pleasant as possible. “Aboard, along with the system you will be installing, are two of my employees. Aisha and Sebastain. They will be my eyes, ears, and voice for this install, so I can focus on entertaining myself. Listen to them and obey them thoroughly, as though they are your own bosses. For, if they’re upset and are forced to distract me from my soaps, I will be upset. And no one on your little station would like that very much, now would they?”
“Understood,” Alphonso says.
“Excellent,” I tell him, then cut the communication line. I then once again open up a line to Aisha and Seb. “Aisha, Sebastian. I have informed the people coming aboard to aid in the installation process that you are my voices and therefore they should obey you while on the ship. I will be distracting myself. If you feel they are insufficiently obeying you, call me up and I will scold them. Harshly. Otherwise, I’ll have a feed on what’s going on and a bit of processing focused on the installation, though most of my focuses will be elsewhere. Do enjoy making our ship even more unstoppable.”
“Which of us is in charge?” Seb asks. Without any eyes on them, I can still tell exactly what Aisha’s look in response to that question is.
“I do not care,” I answer the question without an answer, “I like you better, Sebastian, but even you must admit that Aisha is more intelligent in many ways than you. You will be paid the same amount, for now a fourth of the profits, but as far as a command structure, you can work that out amongst yourselves. Just, don’t disagree too much today in front of the guests.”
“A fourth?” asks Aisha.
“Well,” I answer, “One share goes to me, one goes to the ship, and then one for each of you humans.”
“But you don’t need money,” Aisha states.
“True,” I reply, “But the Obiettivita is rather old, and will require many new upgrades and armaments. I would generally prefer not to get all of them by pissing off corporations. And my money will mostly be going towards reactor upgrades and processing power.”
“Fair enough,” Aisha relents, “Go, enjoy your whatever, we’ll get this installed in no time.”
I cut off the transmission at that, and look through the accessible entertainment and news data-streams from the freeport. Ooh, I can’t help but think, there’s a bunch of war documentaries. I can watch them to catch up on modern military ships and tactics while I’m catching up on all of the soap operas I’ve missed through the centuries. And I’ll play some online chess, for the fun of it. It’s always best to keep the mind busy.
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