Our walk amongst the fab shops is much shorter than my walking tour of the station, but we take our time. Her sense of aesthetics is pretty good; I wonder how she’s decorated her shuttle. She also suggests a few civilian outfits, and I end up carrying three bags of various prints, accessories, and clothing. I’m not much of a fashion snob, but Sparrow has good taste. Plus, I admit I tried on a few more outfits than strictly necessary. Just to show off a little. I mean, I'm my own harshest critic, but I think she enjoyed the show.

And rather than freeze-dried food, I find myself enjoying some indian takeout on the thoroughfare with Sparrow. Just sitting on the ribbon of grass running along the walkway and looking up through the transparent curved roof, the sight of Jupiter’s angry eye staring down at us. Alright, a little more awe-inspiring than I gave it credit for.

I’m so engrossed with a conversation with her, hearing all about her days of racing her shuttle off-grid, that I’m startled to hear a voice behind me. “Well, El Tee, I see you met our local shuttle-rat.” I whip my head around, seeing Brent standing with a good-natured smile.

“Oh, Sergeant Rockchaser, hello,” Sparrow says, nodding to him. The stocky man grins back. “Good to see ya, Sparrow. I see you met the El Tee already,” he says jovially, before his crossed-pupils slide over to me. Fuck.

I put the food down beside me. My pulse picks up a bit. Relax, nothing wrong with eating dinner with a friend. “The good captain here was helping me with the ME case. And offered to show me the best fab shops on the station.”

“Well that’s great, El Tee. I’m glad you’re getting the lay of the grid. Stopped by for some curry?”

I feel a flush creep up my neck, sitting a little straighter. “Yeah, learning the good spots to get some bio-fuel,” I say, trying to keep the tension out of my voice.

Brent nods, giving me a smirk. “Sure, glad to hear it. Just remember, I’m always willing to show you the spots too,” he adds, tilting his head.

I really hope my face isn’t going red. “Of course, and I appreciate it, just doing a bit of a gals day,” I say casually.

He nods, giving Sparrow a quick glance and smile. “Sure, enjoy, and keep your partner in the loop,” he says, patting my shoulder. “I like hearing details,” he says, chuckling. Damn it.

As the Sergeant, walks past, silence hangs in the air. I want to break the tension, but I’m afraid to look directly at her. Finally, I sigh. “Sorry things got weird there.”

There are dimples on her cheeks when she smiles. “Hey, no need for that. I had a nice time. And it isn’t technically a date,”

“Yeah, it’s not that I don’t… feel a spark, you know? It’s just, as a scouting officer… Well, we’re not…” I fumble.

Sparrow sighs and nods. “I get it. Not supposed to fraternize with felons.”

I try to parse that. “What? No, I meant because you were a CI. I was worried about professional conflict-of-interests… a felon?”

Sparrow's brown eyes widen. “Oh! Actually, uh… I kinda thought that’s why you got nervous, with the Sergeant... When I mentioned the plea bargain in the bar… I thought you called up and read my CI file,” she stammers out, sitting straighter.

I blink at that. “It honestly hadn’t… occurred to me.” It takes a titanic effort of will not to call up her file right now.

She gives me a small, sad smile. “You can. I’m not going to be offended.”

I take a deep breath and cross my legs. Get it together, Mel. “How about this? If you feel comfortable with it, why don’t you tell me what you’d like me to know?”

Her breathe catches and the tattoo vanishes entirely for a moment, before reappearing as serpentine whorls along her limbs. “Wow… that’s… maybe not here?” She gulps. “How about… maybe head back to the Chimera?” She looks nervous for the first time since I’ve met her; the confidence draining away.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I nod, standing and giving her a reassuring smile. “Green across the board. Besides, I want to see what Frankenstein’s monster looks like on the inside.”

***

“And this is my baby, the Chimera. Go on, make yourself at home,” Sparrow says quickly. She’s hovering nervously behind me. I’m getting the sense she doesn’t let people inside often.

I look around slowly. The airlock opens into the cargo bay, but it’s not a traditional ship's bay. It looks like a repurposed station module. The conditions aren’t cramped, but space was at a premium. The dull, matte finish of the hull seems to suck the color out of everything. There isn’t even a viewport. Makes sense for a storage unit. A ladder leads to a service hatch, which I’m guessing opens into the shuttle.

I point up. “Would you like to...?”

She fidgets. “A bit intimate in the shuttle; it’s the bedroom too.” She presses a button on the wall, and a memory gel couch folds out of the bulkhead. “Just a modded crash couch. Nothing fancy.”

I sit next to her. It’s tense, and I don’t know where to look. Or what to say. I let my eyes wander around the bay. There really isn't anything to look at though. “So, I’m guessing retrofit, something colonial?”

She shakes her head. “Military. This was an old munition depot module that was deemed ‘surplus to needs’ by the fleet, with the upgrades from the last round of refits. Works well enough for transport. Actually, it's why I was arrested.”

I trail a hand along the side. “You bought it stolen?”

“Are you off-line? Where would I get that kind of credit?” She scoffed. “No, I waited for the depot to strip it of the valuable and sensitive components and send it on a re-entry course to burn up in Jupiter.” She smiled, the pattern across her skin resolving to resemble fish scales. “Then I just hacked the guidance system and used the thrusters to correct course once it was on the other side of the planet. I kicked it up to higher orbit and tagged it with my shuttle. I had the registration confirmed before we came back around to the other side of the orbital plane. Obsolete, abandoned military grade equipment, all weapons and controlled materials removed; now claimed by an independent operator. Legitimate salvage.” She grinned, and the scale pattern rolls like waves across her arms.

I can't help chuckling. “Hmm, let me guess what happened next? Code Enforcement came knocking, wanting to talk about the hack?”

“And just as I finished towing the old bucket to the station! I sealed the dock and had just stepped out of the airlock. And there was Captain Ashton Cartwright, the avenging bureaucrat, standing there with his arms crossed.” She shakes her head. “They offered me probation and a service term, and I said ‘green across the board.’ It’s loads better than prison or a rehabilitation ward.”

I can’t argue with that. “And that’s how you caught a charge? You hacked a Navy system and took a junked component?”

She shrugs. “I spoofed a command ID to do it. Felony level act, right there. I caught a new charge for every subsystem I accessed. Still, I got off light. First time offender, cooperative with authorities, willing do some CI work in the Jovian, so forth,” she spins her hand.

I sigh. Sounds about right. “And they let you keep it? Illicitly obtained goods?”

“Well, more like the Captain determined the hacking was incidental to the legally obtained salvage registration. I didn’t steal it, technically. But let’s just say it was extra incentive to cooperate,” she says with a weak grin.

Laughter bursts from my lips, and Sparrow joins me. “Oh my. Thus ends the survey runs..." Poor Lemming. "Ever tempted to go back out, now that you're not tied to the CI work?”

Sparrow shakes her head. “Sometimes, but not really. It’s more nostalgia. Plus,” She tilts her head and I meet her eyes. She looks… forlorn. “Having a record… it makes it hard to get some contracts. Or insurance for high-value goods. It’s why I don’t display a profile. I hate that it’s the first thing people know and think about me. Makes a lot of things… harder.”

There’s a sadness, a loneliness in her voice as she says that, and the bottom drops out of my heart. I put an arm around her shoulder, and Sparrow leans her head against me. I sit there, unsure what to say, just letting my hand rub her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Fuck, that sucks hard-vacuum, Sparrow.”

She nods. “Yeah. My last partner, we flew together for about eight months. But he got tired of taking side gigs and being passed up for government work because I’m a ‘security risk’. Can’t really fault him, but… you know.”

“You…” I start, feeling my heart beating faster. “You miss… the connection. Just you and one other person. Bound up together, on the same mission. For months.”

I feel her body tense up against me, and her head barely tilts in a nod. She doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. If we speak, it’ll shatter the moment. I close my eyes, the overlay showing the single white thread slowly waving in front of me. From her simple temp augment. I turn my link on, no filters. I reach out slowly, touching the silver thread, feeling a ping and a pulse as her augment links directly to mine. No filter on her end either. Linked to each other.

Even at a low baud rate, I gasp, feeling the sensations, the emotions, rolling inside me. No, inside us. I feel a touch on her left palm and my right arm. My eyes fly open, and I see Sparrow smiling softly, her hand on my forearm. She slides it up to my shoulder, and I shiver, feeling the dual senses. Goosebumps rise and my heart pounds.

I turn and wrap my other arm around her, pulling her close to bury my face in the crook of her neck. I can smell her, and I feel my breath on her neck. I feel her gently nudge the baud rate up, and my toes curl at the rush. “Mel…” she says softly, but I cut her off, my lips pressing against hers.

***