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Nellie and the Nanites - Bk4 - Ch.43
🕑 Added 2024-10-10 08:00:19 +0000 UTCChapter Forty-Three
Trade-Off
“Coming out of jump in 3..2..1.. Do you think they missed us?” Tri chuckled as the Taking Liberties emerged into the Maiusarian system. Five ships were gathered around the jump exit, weapons hot.
“Give them one second,” Crush said, eyes narrowing as the comm line blinked.
“Captain Hellena,” The woman said. “Identify yourself immediately.
“Name’s Cross, Merchant Captain of the Taking Liberties,” Crush said. “At least for the next five seconds. It could be longer if you power down your weapons.”
After staring him down for another four seconds exactly, Hellena nodded, and the various ships powered down their weapons.
“Stupid way to start a partnership, Captain,” Crush said mildly.
“I like to show my teeth before I shake hands, Captain Cross,” Hellena said with a smug smile. “It makes things easier.”
“We’d do the same,” Cara smiled back, “But your shitty scrambler wouldn’t be able to cover our weapon signatures.”
“I’d like to see that,” Hellena said coldly. “One day, we might get a chance.”
“If these two have finished, can we get on?” Berenice asked. “We have a mission to complete and deals to find.”
“On that point,” Hellena said. “We are sending a ship alongside to transfer cargo and currency to you.”
“You are?” Crush asked. “Why?”
“I have a vested interest in this mission’s success. I don’t want you getting busted as the only trader in a system with no money or cargo.” Hellena said with a shrug.
“I did bring cargo,” Berenice said with a sniff. “One docking, and no one will consider us anything other than rich.”
“Is that a fact?” Hellena laughed. “Why don’t I shuttle over, and we can haggle over that cargo a little?”
“Why would I haggle when you are clearly ready to give it to us for free?” Berenice smiled sweetly.
Hellena growled and cut the line.
The cargo was a little bit of a mixed bag, given that it had been collected as protection payments by Hellena and her goons. Apparently, she decided to make the protection racket a real thing.
Berenice turned down the cargo.
Hellena complained until Berenice pointed out that many of their victims would still be in the surrounding systems and would not react well to someone carrying the cargo extorted out of them. The collected money, however, she had no problem accepting.
She collected the credit chips from the scowling crewman before shooing him off their ship.
All in all, not the best start to their mission, but they would be out of Hellena’s sights before long. Still, Crush made a note to plan alternate routes for their return trip, just in case. Plan for the worst, but hope for the best.
“Keep our speed down to freighter max,” Crush reminded Tri, “We don’t want to stick out more than we have to.”
“You got it, Boss,” Tri sighed. “Crawling along like a fat fucking target it is.”
Getting the Taking Liberties into the usual freighter path went smoothly, the station they had such a fun time on, never even bothering to hail them. A couple of other ships hailed to say they had noted the ‘extortion’ and would be happy to report it, but Crush told them it wasn’t worth the trouble with the Ten Suns.
It wasn’t much, but if they mentioned the Liberties, it would be as a fellow victim, not a suspect ship.
Berenice spent the time sorting and inventorying the types of credit chips. The absolute focus reminded Crush of a soldier checking their gear before battle, which was not that far from the truth, he supposed.
“Okay, the first jump is coming up,” Tri said. “Assuming this information is correct, it’s a small one.”
“We’ll buy some system maps at the next station,” Berenice said. “Standard practice for traders new to an area.”
“Jumping!” Tri called.
===<<<>>>===
Nellie slipped into the network and couldn't resist the urge to look around and see if there was any trace of Lucy. Bunny noticed her looking and simply shook their head.
That couple of days had turned into well over a week, and there was no sign or word from her yet. Worse yet, the area around the egg had continued to develop. A small town was appearing around the exit from the gateway, with figures moving back and forth.
Nellie reminded herself that was an issue for another day and turned her focus back to activating the latest Jump-Ring.
“Remy, I’m sending the activation sequence now,” Nellie sent over the comm line to the cruiser sitting off from the ring to observe.
“Understood,” Remy replied.
The Jump-Ring came online slowly, starting up one station at a time. The lights came on, and after a minute, the shields raised, followed by the weapons signatures showing on her scans.
“Starting calibration routines,” Remy reported, and the five beams fired in sequence, the power levels at their lowest setting, until they were all hitting the same spot. “Weapons calibration complete.”
“Testing orientational alignment system,” Nellie said, adjusting the setting on her side, and watching the thrusters fire, rotating the ring through several different orientations before returning it to normal. “Alignment set.”
“Installing the new Watchman Drone program,” Remy said proudly, as well he should.
He designed and perfected The Watchman, with Nellie creating the actual Drone by recreating the process she used to make the initial Pilot Drone but using customized programs created by Remy. It would act as the doorkeeper for the system, monitoring arrivals and comparing their signatures against any recorded as enemy. If they were, they got a single warning during peacetime, and none at all before the Watchman fired during times of war.
An icon appeared over the gate, showing a pair of eyes.
“Drone reports online, and no problems found,” Remy said with satisfaction. “Jump point Five, secured.”
“Congratulations, Remy. Another excellent job,” Nellie said warmly. She had dropped the o’clock designation on the Jump points. It worked fine in her head but was too confusing in practice.
“Thank you, Your Highness!” Remy said. He always used a title when he was feeling proud of his work. It was just his way.
That would be the end of the good news for a few days at least. The mining was continuing apace with Vicky becoming more used to the Sparklight, but there was only so much one ship could do, even with nanites.
For about the fifth time in three days, the urge to reach out to Lucy came and went in a second of indecision. She wanted a show of faith, so Nellie was giving her one. If this relationship failed, it would not be because of Nellie.
No matter how many times she went over it, Nellie just could not make the numbers add up. In order to really cover everything, they were two ships short—Capital ships at that.
Assuming Lucy emerged from the other side of the planet to defend them if they were attacked, they were one ship down—unless she had used all that scrap to make another… in which case they were fine.
Or would be if the obstinate, silicon-hearted cow would fucking speak to anyone and let them know!
Nellie heard a creaking noise and looked down, finding the datapad in her hand had not shattered. Curiously, she turned it over, noticing how thick it was now she was paying attention.
Salem had reinforced the datapads before sending a new set over!
Nellie chuckled at that, even if her anger and frustration still tore away at her inside. She had people around her.
Nellie also had a daughter with a very inventive mind… perhaps that last quarter of the scrapped ships would hold the final piece of the puzzle?
She had—her eyes flicked to the countdown clock over the C.I.C.’s main table—two and a half days to find out.
===<<<>>>===
“Now, just for a moment, imagine you are not the merciless adjudicators of justice and merely normal people,” Berenice said. “People who would like to make money and buy a beer, not drink the tears of their foes.”
“I feel the merciless bit was a little harsh,” Andy said.
“Not the tears of our foes?” Cara asked.
“I’ve seen you smile when the buggers know you have them,” Andy said. “Tear drinking is something I can see you doing.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it, too salty by far,” Crush added. “But I think she made her point.”
“Hold on a second,” Berenice said. “You know what tears taste like?”
“I was a soldier before I was anything else, merchant,” Crush said hollowly. “Not a soldier alive that hasn’t tasted their own tears on the worst nights when they never stop flowing.”
“Thank you, Mister Creepy,” Berenice said. “Let’s avoid that kind of melodramatic declaration while off the ship, okay?”
“Melodramatic declarations while giving a steely death glare is, like, half the Boss’s personality,” Quad offered.
“Focus on the other half then,” Berenice suggested. “We are heading out to trade HyperDrive, not take over the station.”
“I’ll be fine,” Crush nodded.
“Okay, Cara can be a slightly less professional version of herself if I say she is a bodyguard, so that leaves Andy…” Berenice gave him an accessing look. “Nope, you just scream cop. Quad, you come instead.”
“Can we get on with this now?” Cara sighed.
“Perfect, Cara,” Berenice beamed. “Completely unprofessional and barely trained animal nature. Exactly in character.”
“I wasn’t in character,” Cara hissed as they left the ship at last.
“She knows that,” Quad replied happily.
“Ooh, that little—”
The station had not given them a premium berth, shunting them off to a side arm full of old junkers, shady freighters full of stolen goods, and those hauling rubbish off the station to be dumped somewhere.
None of this seemed to bother Berenice, who strode along with the eagle eyes of a true predator. The agent collecting docking fees turned out to be her first prey.
“Five hundred creds a day,” the bored man said, barely giving the group a glance. “Includes station air and power, includes security, does not include help loading or unloading, or transport of goods. Payment in goods is not accepted without an independent appraisal.” He glanced up again, “Payment in creds or local?”
“Itemized cost breakdown, please,” Berenice held out a hand.
“Here,” The man turned his pad for her to see.
“No air, no power, no security,” Berenice said immediately. “Berth rent only.”
“That is not how we do things,” the man shook his head. “It’s a flat rate.”
“You itemized the costs,” Berenice replied. “Do you intend to charge us for things we do not use?”
He frowned at her and turned the pad back around, adjusting the options.
“There, berth only,” the man replied. “One hundred and fifty creds a day.”
“You get commission?” Berenice asked.
“Ten percent,” the man sighed. “You want that waived?”
“No, just don't want you out of pocket.” Berenice paid the berth fee, then slipped the man a fifty cred chip as a gratuity.
“Fair enough,” the man nodded and pocketed it. “Cheers.”
“Never stiff the dockies,” Berenice laughed. “You pay twice as much otherwise.”
“You ain’t wrong,” the man chuckled. “What you hauling?”
“A beverage called HyperDrive,” Berenice gestured, and Crush stepped forward with a can, smiling and handing it to the man. “A sample, on the house.” Berenice continued. “What do you think?”
The docking agent popped the tab, dipped a test stick in it, and when it passed, took a swig.
“Hey, that’s pretty good,” he said. “You could take this to the main drag; a place called the Shining Star would give a decent price for it.” The agent looked around and leaned in to whisper. “But between you and me, the transport costs will kill ya. Taxes on the way there, you get me. I’d say sell this to the dockies tavern. They won’t pay as much, but you’ll get free transport.”
“I’ll give it a look, thanks,” Berenice smiled like a feral cat. “It’s always the fees that get you.”
“Hah! Most merchants don’t figure that out for years.” The agent grinned and waved as he went over to the next docking ship.
The dockies tavern was exactly what you would expect. Cheap, simple, and as clean as a brand-new cred chip. Dockies worked in muck and grime all day; they wanted to drink somewhere clean.
“You lost, girlie?” The bartender was a big woman with cheeks as red as her nose above a powerful frame. “This is the dock workers’ hang. You want a bit of rough trade; try the next place over.”
“I’m selling, not looking,” Berenice said with a very dirty laugh, “at least for the next couple of hours. The docking agent sent me over.”
“Well, I ain’t made of time; show me what you have.”
Berenice smiled and started talking while Crush stood attentively off to one side a little, giving them space while still clearly close enough to listen in. It was something he had learned when he was up on the foundry. Always look polite and slightly disinterested. People would feel safe to ignore you that way.
The haggling was reasonably short. Berenice struck a hard but fair bargain for about a third of what they were carrying on board. She also got free transport from the dock to the tavern because every dockie wants a free drink, right?
They headed back, taking about an hour to unload the barrels of dried HyperDrive, and the bartender promptly arrived.
Credits were exchanged, Berenice shook with the woman, and it was done.
“How did we do?” Cara asked.
“We aren’t done yet,” Berenice grinned. “That was just the taster.”
For the next five hours, Berenice prowled the shady end of the station. One after another, she ferreted out the honest stores, taking a low-cost load from one end of the dock, where the seller had got shafted with a delivery never picked up, and then trading that for a better load from a merchant right on the edge of the cheap part of the dock. The two shopkeepers never made the deal themselves because one was content with where they were, and the other was trying to climb the ladder. Berenice made out like a bandit on the deal to the great amusement of the dockies.
Of course, once the dockies got involved, the real money started to flow. They knew of every load never collected, and every shopkeep looking for that same thing, but too proud to even talk to the dockies.
Berenice, of course, shared the spoils with a generous commission.
After the five hours were up, Berenice had to stop about a dozen times to say goodbye to people before they could leave, and they had a standing offer for HyperDrive if they happened to be passing.
“Holds are half full,” Cara noted, “And we have ten times more than when we landed.” She laughed. “How the hell did you do it?”
“Merchants are tough on frontier worlds,” Berenice grinned. “This was child’s play by comparison.”
“The first deal paves the path,” Crush said with a smile.
“Now, Marshall, how does a man like you know the Merchant’s code?” Berenice asked.
“Five creds says it is something dramatic!” Sec called.
“I worked the docks on a foundry for years,” Crush said, holding out his hand to Sec. “Pay up.”
“Naah, wait for it…” Quad said.
“How come you don’t still work there?” Prim asked pointedly.
“I was captured when the Feds invaded,” Crush said quietly.
“Faked his death, only to awake naked in a pile of the dead!” Andy said dramatically, “he climbed from the fiery jaws of the furnace out into a snowy night, climbing down in the biting winds before stealing the clothes of his fellow unfortunates and escaping into the sewers before becoming a legend of the resistance!”
“Fuck off! Crush chuckled, shoving Andy to get him to shut up.
“Seriously, though, what happened?” Berenice said. “What happened?”
Crush and the others just looked at her.
“No!” Berenice gasped and Crush tensed himself for the usual questions of how bad it was. “How cold was it out there?” Berenice snorted. “Did anything freeze off?”
Crush gaped while the others laughed.
Okay, that was not the typical question.
“Come on, you lot,” Crush said with a smile. “Let’s push on before our Merchant ends up owning the whole station.”
