Chapter Seventy-Seven - Terribly Normal

The spacer bar wasn't as bad as Ivil might have feared. Certainly it wasn't a top-class establishment, and it could use some minor renovations, but it was mostly clean and its current patronage seemed rather reserved.

Technically it was very, very early on Driftwood station. There was a twenty-four hour clock to divide most shifts, and they'd arrive at the station sometime in the early AM. Any rabble-rousers or after-shift partying would be over by the time they arrived.

Ivil spotted Pixie waiting for them already. The petite woman had picked out a larger table in a back corner of the bar and was nursing a drink all on her own. She perked up when she saw Ivil and the girls coming in.

"Hey, good to see you," she said. "Come on, pick a seat!"

Ivil did just that, sitting across from Pixie in the middle of the table. It was a clever bit of placement. No matter where the others sat, they'd need to be on either side of her, ensuring that she had someone on both sides.

It did leave her back to the entrance, something which she generally disliked as a matter of principle, but it wasn't like she didn't have senses that could be extended beyond herself to scan for trouble.

Aurora adjusted her blouse, then carefully sat on Ivil's right. Twenty-Six spun the chair on her left around and straddled it, arms crossed over its back and a smug grin on full display. Ivil suspected that Twenty-Six thought she looked cool.

"You seem to be in a good mood, Miss Starling," Aurora said.

Pixie grinned from ear to ear and leaned way forwards. "You bet. Do you know how many of my missions end up seeing any amount of combat?"

"Aren't you like, a super cool bounty hunter? And your ship is awesome. That kind of thing can't be cheap, so I bet you see a lot," Twenty-Six said.

Pixie laughed. "Not nearly as much as you might think. Even the most dangerous escort missions only see combat one time in ten."

"And that's enough to make them the most dangerous?" Twenty-Six asked.

"Yeah. You worked on a commercial ship, right?" Pixie asked her. "How often did you get waylaid by pirates or the like?"

"Uh, in the last four years? Maybe three times? And twice we just dumped and ran," Twenty-Six said.

"Right. No company worth their Oh-Two will try to take dangerous routes. A one-in-ten chance of being attacked is a huge liability, which is why even the most dangerous possible paths are avoided if at all possible. And when they can't be, they hire on escorts like me. Usually not just one or two either, but a small flight of fighters and support ships for longer haul missions. In reality, I get maybe one mission in twenty where I see any combat. And that combat is usually short and quick. Pirates are just as risk averse as companies."

"Which is only logical," Aurora said. "They're a business of a sort as well."

"Exactly. Half the time the moment they see that they're up against someone with teeth, they cut and run." Pixie grinned big. "And I have big teeth."

She probably thought she looked threatening. Ivil thought she looked like someone who needed their cheeks pinched.

"Anyway, I'm mostly happy because nothing gets my blood boiling like a good dogfight. And combat pay too. You do remember the clause in my contract about combat pay, right, Miss Sterlingworth?"

Aurora nodded demurely. "There's nothing to worry about, you will receive your payment in full," she said. "Phobos does not renege on deals. Not when you saved us out there."

"Oh, speaking of saving us," Twenty-Six said. She tried to lean forwards, but couldn't on account of being seated improperly, so she just ended up bouncing on the spot. "What were you fighting out there?"

"Those weren't pirates, I can tell you that much," Pixie said.

"You can tell so easily?" Ivil asked.

Pixie nodded. "Pirates come in two flavours most of the time, with very few exceptions. The first are flying around in converted ships. Freighters and tugs and small shuttles converted to be armed and up-armoured. Some are even pretty decent once properly converted. The second flavour are ships made in and around Ceres. Vessels made by some of the larger pirate consortiums. Those tend to be used by the more professional crews. I suppose the third option is old military gear. Dated cast-me-downs from the last Inter-system war or bought off from military surplus, but those are less common than you'd think nowadays."

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Aurora nodded. "Several treaties have arisen, cracking down on the trade of military goods. I can't imagine them being entirely successful, but it should make it harder to get that kind of equipment with ease."

"So, if the attackers weren't mere pirates, who were they?" Ivil asked.

Pixie shrugged. "I've been over the recordings. Something... weird went down in that fight. Anyway, I looked at all the footage I had of the ships. I'm not a betting woman, but if I was, I'd put money down on the three being corporate security."

Twenty-Six blinked. "Oh. There were four ships, right? I remember Evelyn showing me them. Uh, three Titanian Pyrrole Mark sixes, or sevens! And a TMCC-600, right?"

"That's it," Pixie said. "The Pyrroles are pretty damned common for corporate security around here. They're kinda trashy but cheap, and better than what poorer pirates can slap together. You'll see plenty of them flying patrols around stations."

"And the TMC is just a modified shuttle-gunship," Twenty-Six said. "Anyone could have that."

"Yes, but it was well modified," Pixie said. "My ship has good cameras. The job was professional."

Aurora hummed. "So, what you're saying is that whomever tried to kill us were professionals?"

"Ah, that depends on what you mean by that," Pixie said. "Professionals in the sense that they're on a payroll? Then yes. Professional in the sense that they were good. Not so much."

"Does that help us narrow down who to get retribution from?" Ivil asked.

Actually, now that she thought about it, it might make for a fun date. Perhaps not with Twenty-Six or Aurora, unless the retribution was financial in which case the Phobian princess would certainly enjoy it, but with Pixie... it was an idea.

Pixie shrugged. "You'll need a venn diagram of every corp and moon in the region that can afford to hire security like that and who want you dead. All the numbers on the ships were stripped off. No IFF, no markings. Which is only to be expected."

"We won't be able to point to a single organisation, then," Aurora said.

"Except that now a company is missing four security ships," Pixie said. "For the bigger corps, that's nothing. For a smaller corp, that's a pretty hefty loss. A few million, at least."

"Whoa," Twenty-Six said.

Ivil shrugged, then glanced over to Pepper, catching the quiet young woman's eye. "I'm certain someone could do some digging and discover that. They've left a trail, after all."

Pepper nodded subtly.

MINT would be on the case soon enough, then. Which meant... Ivil would have to wait. Once she could pin down those responsible she could go out and stretch her legs a little.

She listened to Pixie and Aurora go on for a little bit, until Twenty-Six took over with questions about the actual dogfight, with much gushing over how cool and awesome the Nightshade was. Pixie seemed proud, though Ivil suspected that she was missing the fact that Twenty-Six was more complementary about the fightercraft than about the pilot.

They ordered some food, and of course some drinks. Pixie had to be complimented for a job well done, after all, and Ivil soon relaxed.

She had been eager to move on, maybe take another step, maybe invite someone on a date, but this? Sitting around, chatting, trading gossip over warm food with plenty of laughter? That wasn't too bad.

She imagined that once the dating phase of a relationship was over, there would have to be a much longer stretch where the focus was on spending quality time together, and this seemed like exactly the kind of thing that would happen. So she allowed herself to luxuriate in the atmosphere, prompted a few questions, and traded banter when appropriate.

It was very nice, being so abjectly normal.

Of course, she was also plotting to ruin the lives of the people responsible for that attack. No matter what happened, they had to be made an example of. She found that people, governments and corporations especially, tended to take fewer risks if there were clear and pressing examples of what would happen to them if their risk-taking didn't pan out.

But that would be an issue for later. For now, drinks and good food and better company.

***