by M. D. Cooper
“Speaking of opportunities,” Jessica said with a smile. “What do people do for fun around here?”
A NIGHT OUT
STELLAR DATE: 06.12.8928 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Chittering Hawk Station
REGION: Virginis System
After four drinks of whatever it was that the bartender was serving, Jessica finally reached that happy place where everything felt warm and glowy. Camilla wasn’t quite there yet, but Trevor certainly was—as the acre of empty glasses before him could testify.
She had touched his arm a few times to give him the signal that they could be physical, and he had jumped on the invitation with full fervor. He wasn’t the most attractive person onstation, but there was something about the combination of his brooding strength and wry wit that she liked. It gave him a depth that most muscle didn’t have.
It wasn’t as though he was deep as an ocean, but there was more to him than most goons, who were just alive to drink and rough people up for money.
As it turned out, he wanted to be a crystal artist of some sort. He had told her all about it, how on the second moon of the fourth planet, amazing crystals grew in deep caves. If you could get enough money, or a sponsor, you could get a license to extract and carve them.
When he told her how much money it took, she almost spat out her drink, but then he told her how much money a good carving sold for.
“It’s one of the things Virginis is known for,” Camilla drawled. “Trade and stupid crystal carvings.”
Trevor chuckled.
That was another thing she liked about him. He didn’t get all bent out of shape when his manly pride was challenged. He laughed it off and moved on. Thompson could take a lesson or two from him.
Trevor reached inside his jacket and pulled a sample out. “Here’s one I did the other day. I buy shards and scraps from traders—trying to improve my skill.”
He held it up for her to inspect, and Jessica carefully took it out of his hand. The carving was of a fish, or maybe a whale of some sort, jumping out of the water. Somehow, two crystals were intricately interlocked, or maybe they grew this way, but the water was blue crystal and the whale pink—yet, somehow, half the whale was inside the water.
“That’s really amazing!” Jessica exclaimed. “And you did this with hand tools?”
Trevor nodded, clearly proud of his work.
“It’s stupid,” Camilla said with a scowl. “It’s an entire industry, built around doing things by hand that machines could do better.”
“Well,” Jessica replied. “Most things humans do, machines could do better—but art isn’t one of them. At least not art that humans like. Machine art is just…”
“Best viewed by other machines,” Trevor chuckled.
Iris said privately.
Jessica replied.
Iris said.
Iris grinned in Jessica’s mind.
She carefully handed the carving back to Trevor. “You’ve a future in that if you can ever save that outlandish startup fee.”
“Never going to happen,” Camilla said. “He spends too much of his money drinking here, and on whatever pretty piece of tail he happens to spot.”
“I’ve saved more than you think,” Trevor replied soberly.
Camilla eyed Trevor, and Jessica wondered if there had been something between them in the past, or if Camilla wanted there to be in the future. It also could be that they had worked together for so long that they operated like a long-time couple.
If there was any interest, it was from Camilla. Jessica would have declared it a certainty, except that Camilla didn’t seem to get upset when Jessica flirted with him. Usually, making eyes at a man that another had mentally chalked up as hers was a recipe for disaster.
Then again, maybe Camilla was more evolved than Jessica initially assumed.
“So, is this it, then?” Jessica asked. “The Hawk, the baddest station in Virginis, and the best thing to do is hang out in this shithole and drink?”
Camilla barked out a laugh and Trevor scowled.
“This shithole, as you so insensitively call it,” he began, “is the home of the best beer selection on station. Sure, it looks like a dump, but it’s a dump with good options.”
Jessica downed another drink with a grimace, noting that the quality of beer had diminished greatly in the intervening millennia.
“Although,” Camilla jabbed Trevor in the ribs. “We could go to the games. There’s one on tonight.”
“Cam, no,” Trevor dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “They always want me to fight, and I don’t feel like it today.”
“Games?” Jessica asked with an arched eyebrow.
“Yup,” Camilla nodded. “The fighting kind. Not completely legal, but enough that no one really pays much mind to them—so long as all the right people get their cut.”
“I thought you said the most excitement on the Hawk was a bar fight,” Jessica said as she laid her hand on Trevor’s augmented bicep. “I do like a good game, and I’d be interested in seeing what these bad boys can do.”
“Nah, I really don’t feel like it,” he began to demure.
“I’ll put five hundred down on you, and split the winnings,” Jessica offered.
Trevor’s eyes lit up at that. “My take on half what you pull?” he asked.
“You have my word,” Jessica said. She knew a bonus like that could land some hard credit in his crystal carving savings fund.
“OK, fine, then we’d best get going,” Trevor said as he rose and downed the beer the bartender had just set in front of him. “I’ve got some ass to kick.”
“Tab’s on you, Purple,” Camilla said. “You’re the one that wanted to go out and have some fun.”
Jessica sighed and settled up with the bartender while Trevor hit the head. A few minutes later, they were out on the concourse, threading the crowds toward a maglev station. After a short train ride, they arrived in a section of the station filled with manufacturing shops and storage facilities.
“The usual sort of location for this type of thing, then?” Jessica asked.
“Mostly,” Trevor replied. “Can’t exactly put it across from the stationmaster’s office.”
Before long, they passed under a sign that read ‘Skippy’s Self Storage’ and past rows of small lockers and storage units. Ahead, another couple laughed loudly as they pulled open the door to a storage unit.
Jessica hoped that it led somewhere else or this was going to be one crowded venue. Sure enough, the door opened into a staircase, and they followed it to the deck below.
“There’s a bunch of ways in,” Trevor said over his shoulder. “Can’t have a couple hundred people all come out of one self-storage joint.”
It suddenly occurred to Jessica that despite Camilla and Trevor’s assurances, this operation was probably more than just a little on the shady side of the law. If it was this expansive—and permanent-looking—it was probably completely illegal in every way, but well supported by the station elite.
The staircase ended at a thick plas door, which Trevor opened without hesitation. Two burly men on the other side stood with pulse rifles leveled. They broke into wide grins at the sight of Trevor.
“Trev! Going to give us a show tonight?”
Trevor slapped hands with the men and nodded. “Damn
skippy I am. I have a lost puppy here that wants to put money down on me and see what I’m made of.”
The men glanced at Jessica and laughed. “Sucked you in with that crystal carving thing, did he?”
Trevor flushed, and Jessica was certain that he did want the money to pursue his dream, despite what he probably told these guys.
“I don’t care what he does with the money, I just want to see a good fight,” she replied.
“Oh, you’ll see a good fight,” one of the guards laughed.
They stepped through another door into a large space, easily one hundred meters across and two hundred wide. In the center was a caged fighting ring, about ten meters in diameter. Tiered risers surrounded the ring, already half-filled with spectators.
Trevor waved and took a turn into what Jessica assumed was a locker room. Camilla led her to a counter where three women were taking bets and updating the odds for and against the combatants. Jessica pulled out some physical currency and put five hundred down on Trevor.
“At least it’s easy money,” Camilla said. “He usually does pretty well in there.”
“Usually?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah,” Camilla’s smile took on a wicked twist. “Usually”
“Move,” a deep voice said from behind Jessica, and the muzzle of a weapon pressed against her back.
She pulled the feed from the nano that Iris had been managing and saw that there were two men and one woman behind her. Two carried flechette pistols and the third carried a slug thrower. Not the sort of firepower she wanted to go up against without any backup.
“OK, I’ll leave, no hard feelings about the winnings from the bet,” Jessica said as she raised her hands.
“Oh no, you’re not leaving. You’re going to participate,” Camilla grinned. “I don’t really like pretty little sexed-up freaks like you homing in on my man. You’ll fight tonight, and if you make it far enough, you’ll get the chance to have Trevor beat the shit out of you.”
Jessica sighed and moved in the direction Camilla pointed, the butt of a weapon still in her back.
The door she entered wasn’t the same one that Trevor had, which made sense; he would not be pleased to see what Camilla had done—at least Jessica hoped that he wouldn’t be. If he was in on it, then her character assessment abilities had completely atrophied.
The guards marched her down a hall and shoved her through a doorway into a small room. The nano she had deployed in the hall showed the two guards with the flechette pistols take up positions in the hall while the woman left.
Jessica crashed to her knees and then fell to her side. Pain coursed through her limbs and her vision grew blurry.
Iris exclaimed, and Jessica got the impression that her AI was working frantically at keeping her together.
She rolled onto her back, doing her best to take long, slow breaths.
Jessica sighed as the agony began to subside.
“Great,” Jessica muttered.
CAGE FIGHT
STELLAR DATE: 06.12.8928 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Chittering Hawk Station
REGION: Virginis System
Jessica was on her third opponent.
Weapons, as it turned out, were allowed. Her right hand gripped a staff seized from her first opponent, a wiry man who hadn’t expected her to take the first blow on her shoulder, just to wrest his weapon away.
She spun it before her, carefully watching the arena guards drag out the second man she had fought. When they were clear, a burly woman came in, all teeth, and freakish claw hands. Jessica glanced at the crowd and saw Camilla grinning.
Jessica had kept an eye on Camilla, who had been surprised by her first victory and was visibly upset after the second. They had underestimated her—it was one of the reasons she kept her current physical appearance after completing the undercover job that had required it all those years ago.
It had been decades since she had fought an actual enemy in hand-to-hand combat—her re-enforced spine and carbon-fiber muscle augments were proving their worth. Given that her mods were from the TBI in Sol’s golden age, and not some backwater station on the edge of the Hegemony, they were almost impossible to detect—which was likely why Camilla thought she would be easy meat for the ring.
The guards closed the cage’s gate, and Jessica’s new opponent lunged at her, making a grab for the staff.
Jessica spun to the side, easily avoiding the woman’s attack, and smashed the weapon into her back as she passed. The thwack resounded through the ring and the woman spun, rage visible in her eyes, but not an iota of pain.
She decided to let the mad-dog of a woman wear herself out. It was easy enough; the woman never feinted, every lunge the real deal. With those clawed hands, she probably didn’t need to resort to finesse too often. One slash would cut an opponent to the bone.
Jessica still hit her wi
th the staff when there was an opening, and after five counter-attacks, she managed to strike the woman in the face, cutting her cheek wide open.
The gash finally caused the woman to cry out, though Jessica couldn’t tell if it was in pain or anger.
Five minutes later, the woman was starting to pant heavily, and Jessica decided that it was time to press her attack. She brought the staff down hard on the outside of the woman’s left knee. The force wasn’t enough to make it buckle, but when her opponent reached for her, Jessica spun and delivered a kick at the inside of her other knee.
That blow got the desired result. The woman’s knee broke and bent to the side. She spun back around and whipped the staff at the base of the woman’s skull.
The third opponent was down.
Jessica caught Camilla’s eye and gave a slow nod laced with no small amount of menace.
The cage opened again, and the guards entered once more. Two hauled out the moaning claw-handed woman, and two more gestured for Jessica to leave. She was glad to finally get a brief reprieve.
The guards walked behind her, and the one to her left gave a shove. Fueled by the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she stepped back and drove the staff under the guard’s chin—smashing his teeth together and snapping his head back.
In a sinuous move, she spun around him, tore his pulse rifle from his hands, and leveled it on the other guard, who was just beginning to react to her first attack.
“I’m fucking fighting for you, there’s no need to push me around,” she hissed. “Shove me again and you die.”
A hushed silence fell over the crowd, and around the cage, a dozen more guards leveled pulse rifles at her.
