Star Stories - Beginnings (The Fixers of KarmaCorp Book 3)

by Faye, Audrey

Ophelia grinned. “Better than Lucy, huh?”

  On a rough-and-tumble world like Gastonia, you didn’t give people a really obvious reason to pick on you. “Did you stick with Ophelia?”

  “Only for work.” The agent smiled, her eyes friendlier now. “It makes people underestimate me.”

  Which probably wasn’t something she told most people standing on the other side of her counter. “I bet.”

  Ophelia glanced back at the paperwork. “Why’d you leave Gastonia?”

  For a lot of reasons that wouldn’t be in the paperwork. Bean considered and discarded the sanitized story she’d made up in the shuttle exit tunnel. She generally preferred to live her life telling as much of the truth as possible. “Pissed off the wrong people.”

  “They have a thing against business systems?”

  The agent’s voice was mildly amused, but Bean didn’t miss the new sharpness in her eyes. Stardust Prime might be a more relaxed world, but it wasn’t a sloppy one. “They have a thing against people who don’t dance to the beat of their drum. Nothing illegal.”

  Ophelia tapped away on her keyboard. “You wouldn’t have gotten the paperwork to travel here if it had been.”

  Now wasn’t the time to draw attention to her skills in procuring the impossible. And she was really hoping that she might be able to start a life here where that wasn’t her most valued skill.

  The agent was looking up again. “Why Stardust Prime?”

  That was a lot trickier. “I’m looking for work.” Which was the absolute truth, but only the tiniest tip of it.

  “With these papers, you could have gone to any inner-planet world you liked. Lots of them where you could have had a job in business systems before you got off the shuttle.”

  Bean tried another small dose of truth and gestured at her dreadlocked hair and rainbow headscarf. “I wanted a place where I maybe didn’t have to lose all this to get work.” Inner planets welcomed diversity and flamboyant personalities, but generally not in their systems techs.

  Not that she was a very good systems tech anyhow. She’d been too busy trying to find the Gastonia leader’s missing nephew to pay much attention to her classes. Which was a story she couldn’t tell, because finding Antonio and then giving him extra lessons in how to stay better hidden was why she needed to keep far away from Gastonia for a while.

  Probably a lifetime length of a while. She swallowed. She’d made the choice to pay this price weeks ago. Now she just needed to get on with it.

  The agent typed a couple of things on her keyboard and surveyed the screen, chewing her bottom lip. “You’ve got no criminal, decent education, a little shy on employment history, but enough.” She looked down at the paperwork one last time and then up at Bean again. “There are jobs to be had here so long as there aren’t any big flags in your file, and I don’t see any. Should I?”

  The big events of Bean’s life didn’t tend to quantify well for the ident files. “No.”

  “Okay.” Something in Ophelia’s eyes spoke of kindness. “Your paperwork is all in order, then. Welcome to Stardust Prime.”

  “Excellent.” Bean let a little of her relief show on her face. “Know a good place to catch a bite to eat?”

  “Yup. Got a tablet? It’s a little hard to find, so I’ll do you a map.”

  Bean pulled out her ancient and sturdy Anzer. She had a fancier model tucked away in her bag, but it had toys on it she didn’t want anyone accidentally swiping.

  The agent smirked. “You might want to upgrade your equipment if you want systems-tech work.”

  Bean grinned. “Keeping this old guy running is a pretty good demonstration of my skills, don’t you think?”

  Ophelia laughed. “You have a point.” She tapped a couple of times on the old tablet and placed a pin on a map. “Jissa’s diner is here—you can get there on foot in about ten minutes. Tell her I sent you, and ask for pie, even if it isn’t on the menu today.”

  Bean knew gold when she heard it. “Awesome, thanks.”

  A small pause, and then Ophelia shrugged. “You might not thank me for this one, but I hear Yesenia Mayes is looking for a new assistant.”

  “Again?” The agent in the next cubicle rolled his eyes. “That makes, what—six that she’s chewed up and spit out this rotation already?”

  “Seven. The one before this barely made it in her office door, but she got hired, so it counts.” Bean’s minder shook her head. “You couldn’t make me work for that woman for all the chocolate in the quadrant.”

  That was a pretty warn-off—but it was also a line on a potential job, and recently arrived unemployeds from Gastonia knew better than to walk away from those. “How would I go about applying for this position?”

  Surprised green eyes studied her from the cubicle next door.

  Bean grimaced—if she’d been trying to slide through quietly, apparently being willing to take a job in the lion’s den wasn’t the way to do it.

  “Take it from me.” The suddenly friendly agent in the adjoining cubicle leaned over and pitched his voice at barely more than a whisper. “Walk around a bit, scan the wanteds for a couple of weeks—you’ll find something. No need to let Yesenia Mayes chomp you.”

  No one got to take a chunk out of Bean unless she wanted them to, but friendly warnings weren’t something she was in the habit of ignoring. “Got it, thanks.”

  Ophelia just smiled.

  Two women with floofy names, smart enough not to underestimate each other. Bean nodded her head in thanks and picked up her tablet and paperwork off the counter.

  Time to go find some pie—and to figure out why she was supposed to be here.

  -o0o-

  It was the sort of diner that could make the right kind of person feel at home anywhere in the universe.

  Bean was the right kind of person. Jissa’s establishment had been exactly where Ophelia had put it on the map, tucked into a side street that said the locals knew where to find it and that was plenty of business to keep the proprietor happy.

  Jissa herself was currently waiting tables, filling coffee mugs, and chatting with the regulars. If Bean had caught the diurnal cycle information on the shuttle right, it was mid-afternoon. One rush done and another coming, but in the meantime, life could move along slow and comfortable. Which suited everyone in the place except for possibly Bean’s belly, but she knew how to wait out hunger. There was a plate of all-day breakfast on the way and pie after that, and after a week of shuttle rations, her whole body was going to sit up and sing hallelujah when they arrived.

  Especially when Jissa had whispered that she had real eggs today, same price as the regular breakfast plate.

  There was just no way the woman made any money doing that, but Bean wasn’t an idiot. She’d ordered the eggs, and tossed a thought of gratitude the way of the customs agent who had probably gotten her into the line for them. Jissa clearly liked Ophelia, and dropping her name had smoothed things in a way that Bean had to appreciate.

  Smoothing had pretty much been her life’s work up until now.

  Which had her all kinds of curious about why the tug in her gut had been pulling her inexorably toward this planet for the last two months. She could already tell just how different it was from Gastonia, including the friendly people and promising offerings on the food front. How she fit here wasn’t at all clear yet, despite the rumblings in her gut that said she’d arrived.

  Maybe her gut was just hungry.

  Or maybe it didn’t know that Gastonia’s best greaser was in retirement, effective immediately.

  Which chased right back around to the niggling issue of needing to find alternative employment. Bean looked up as the diner’s proprietor meandered her way. Jissa seemed like the friendly type, and also like one of those people who knew a little bit about everything. Bean swallowed another sip of still-piping-hot coffee and pitched her voice low enough to at least try to keep her business quiet. “Do you happen to know where I might find a woman named Yesenia Mayes?”


  The comfortably middle-aged woman’s eyes widened. “Director Mayes? You got business with her?”

  Possibly. “What’s she the Director of?”

  “Officially she runs KarmaCorp in this quadrant.” Jissa raised a wry eyebrow. “Unofficially, honey, she runs everything that breathes here on Stardust Prime.”

  And evidently ate assistants for breakfast while she did it. Which, Bean well knew, should have her running for the hills or the nearest temp agency. But despite her general lack of willingness to sit in places previous tenants had vacated in pieces, something about this job was part of the tugging. She knew a little about KarmaCorp. A power in the galaxy, at least in places where the cartels didn’t run things. “She’s got a heavy hand?”

  A thoughtful pause. “Not a light one, but she’s fair. Hard, though. You never see that one smiling.”

  An interesting mix of scuttlebutt. “Is the whole company that way, or just her?” Maybe she could slide in somewhere a little less close to the lion’s den.

  Jissa’s eyes softened. “Nah, KarmaCorp’s good people. They make things right out there in the galaxy, and when they’ve got their feet on-planet, they make good neighbors.” She winked. “And big tippers.”

  Huh. That kind of corporate culture generally had a source. Which meant it either went through Yesenia Mayes, or around her. “The boss lady—has she ever been in here?”

  “Not on my watch.” Jissa cast a quick glance sideways, like someone might be listening in. “But she came in once with one of the shuttle captains. Ordered a latte and tore a strip up one side of him and down the other and then tossed him down the compost chute. Least that’s the way I heard it from Ellie, and she heard it from Jules, who was on night shift and heard every word.”

  For the first time since she’d landed on Stardust Prime, Bean felt entirely at home. On Gastonia, gossip was the universal currency, and a good greaser’s very best friend.

  Just one of the things that wasn’t in her official ident file. “What’d the shuttle captain do wrong?” No guarantee that had been the direction of guilt, but she had a feeling.

  “Gave one of her Fixers grief for puking on his bridge. One of the young ones, out in the field for the first time.” Jissa’s tone was almost motherly. “They tend to overdo it out there the first trip or two.”

  The only Fixer Bean had ever come anywhere near had impressed the hell out of her—and seemed the most unlikely person in the universe to have hurled where someone else could see. “She got space sick?”

  “Yup. She was a Grower, and they don’t like having their hands and feet away from the dirt.”

  Bean was taking mental notes as fast as she could write them. “And Director Mayes went after the captain.” Not the greenie Fixer, which is what most would have done.

  Jissa nodded, face full of curiosity. “Why you asking?”

  It was apparently a day for telling the truth to strangers. Bits of it, anyhow. “I heard she was hiring. Looking for an assistant.”

  “Phew.” Brown eyes contemplated for a moment. “She’d be a hard one to work for.”

  That much had come through loud and clear. “I don’t mind hard.”

  “Fair enough.” Jissa waved over a server carrying the plate of all-day breakfast, and let her settle it in front of Bean. Then she waited a moment as the server hustled off and Bean picked up her fork. “I could use someone for extra shifts on the weekend. If things don’t work out with the boss lady.”

  Bean looked up, evaluating the offer—and decided it was real. Real, and generally the kind of thing she would have snapped up in a heartbeat. But it didn’t have the tug. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Jissa smiled and picked up her coffee pot, wandering in the direction of two older men with dirt on their hands.

  Bean put her fork to good use and dug into the best meal she’d had in a lot longer than two months. Whoever raised the chickens that laid these eggs knew what they were doing, and the rest of the plate did the eggs proud.

  It wasn’t until a piece of pie the size of her head arrived that she contemplated the tug again. And decided, very sadly, that it wasn’t pulling her to weekends working in Jissa’s diner. She’d just have to make do with being a customer. A very regular customer, if the pleasure seeping through her veins was any kind of judge.

  Bean stood up—there was work to do before she let that pie put her to sleep. She reached for her bag and tossed some credits on the table. A lot of them. She might not be an official greaser anymore, but old habits weren’t going to die anytime soon.

  Jissa, swinging by with her coffee pot, took one look and rolled her eyes. “That’s about five times what’s reasonable, honey.”

  Not today, it wasn’t. “Some’s for you. Some’s to pay for Ophelia’s next piece of pie.”

  The rest of it was to pay for the answers the past hour had given. She was close now—and fueled up on eggs, pie, and the beginnings of a sense that she could find a place for herself here.

  For the first time in two months, Lucinda Coffey was maybe finally heading toward something.

  -o0o-

  For a major power in the universe, KarmaCorp’s offices didn’t run to swanky. Bean followed the directions she’d been given by more than one helpful person, working her way through the interesting mix of town and colony and working farm that was the populated part of Stardust Prime.

  KarmaCorp Headquarters was a low, angular building on a campus that apparently included residential components, a school, research facilities, and some of the prettiest gardens Bean had seen anywhere.

  Inside, the corridors were that same blend of nondescript and touches of the personal. The walls were the basic plastic of institutional everywhere, although she liked the vaguely turquoise color. The floors and lighting were basic and functional, with pops of color and art in the occasional alcove. Welcome and ease and the clear statement that results, preferably of the non-flashy kind, mattered here—but so did beauty.

  Bean liked it very much. A person could be comfortable here.

  Which didn’t fit with what she’d heard about the woman in the top office at all.

  She made her way closer to the inner sanctum, where the nice gentleman who had greeted her when she’d entered the building had assured her she would find the Director’s office.

  Bean hadn’t stated her business, and the friendly gentleman hadn’t asked. One gatekeeper bypassed, and likely the easiest. She’d need to find her way around the rest, however many there were. Presumably, Yesenia Mayes would find that a key qualification in anyone she hired to man her own gate.

  In the end, assistant was just a more polite name for a greaser, or at least that was the way Bean was going to play it.

  When she finally got to the end of the hall and stepped into a semi-circular space with a partly open sliding door in the back wall, she knew she’d arrived. She also knew the place was empty. People with power had a certain feel, and you didn’t last long on Gastonia unless you knew how to smell that vibe.

  What you did after that depended on a whole lot of factors.

  Bean stood still and surveyed what she could see, contemplating her options.

  That the space was empty and unguarded spoke volumes about the woman who generally hung out in the back office. Most people would assume it meant Yesenia Maye’s power was absolute, and no one dared cross her. Bean knew enough of power to sniff something different here.

  Whatever scuttlebutt might say, the Director trusted her people.

  The feeling that had been coalescing in Bean’s belly since she stepped off the shuttle got a little sturdier. Despite obvious outward appearances, she could work here.

  Her lips twitched as she surveyed the outer office again. That work started with what was in front of her eyes, because right now this space said a whole bunch of things it probably shouldn’t. The single console desk in the room was modern and functional, with a couple of dents to make it interesting. The chair behind it sat empty a
nd forlorn, the seat a little lopsided, like the last occupant had just kind of slid off the side instead of exiting on their feet.

  Given what she’d heard so far, that wasn’t a totally unlikely scenario.

  Other than that, the small reception area had about as much personality as a packet of slightly stale soup crackers. Clearly, no one had lived here long enough to make their mark—from what Bean could see, no one had even put up a decent fight.

  She knew how to fight.

  Curious now, she stepped forward. The Director almost certainly hadn’t left her door cracked open by accident, and Bean had never apologized for using her eyes.

  What she could see wasn’t nearly as boring as the bland space she stood in. It wasn’t decorated to Bean’s taste, but it spoke vividly of the woman who ruled from within those four walls.

  A gleaming desk that was almost certainly wood, and told the story of unwavering certainty in every line. The large black chair behind it was a seat of power in every way possible. A tablet neatly positioned for actual work, windows that let light fill every corner of the room, and the briefest glance of an inbuilt wall of equipment that would put most of the power brokers on Gastonia to absolute shame.

  It wasn’t the tech that had Bean riveted, however. It was the flowers. And the rug.

  The flowers were spectacular—red and bold and daring the eye to look anywhere else. Their color was echoed in the simple rag rug on the floor in front of the desk, one that had clearly come from a weaver skilled in both choice of fabric and use of color. From Andea, maybe, or Tezuli. It was stunning, and at first look, it didn’t fit the rest of the office at all.

  Anyone who thought that was a fool. Bean was pretty sure that rug spoke more truth than everything else inside those four walls. Yesenia Mayes needed an assistant who understood that—and who supported the way the Director wanted the world to see her anyhow.

  Bean sighed. She knew where she needed to be now. One look at that rug and she was a goner.

  Convincing the woman who owned the rug was a different matter entirely—but that was the kind of work a good greaser knew how to do.