The bad news was that the Bhadra had only two and a half weeks of air left until the situation became critical. The worse news was that a stray hit had holed a reactor fuel tank and they only had enough to keep the generator running for eleven or twelve days. After that, the ship would be without power, heat, life-support. The good news was that a rescue ship might be able to reach them in ten or eleven days, assuming they left pretty much the moment they received the deep-link SOS.

            Oh, and there had been no further contact from the pirates.

            Needless to say, moral on the ship was low. Repairs to the hull breaches and areas in vacuum had been halted in order to conserve suit air. That meant that the crew was unable to affect repairs to the weapons, although they were able to restore the battlecruiser’s shields.

            That accomplishment wasn’t as impressive as it sounded. Unlike battleships – slow, heavily armed and armored, and pretty much the strongest single ships in space – battlecruisers traded much of that mass-intensive protection away for pure speed while keeping a battleship’s heavy weapons complement. The design ideal was that a battlecruiser should be able to run away from anything it couldn’t outfight. So while having shields was definitely better than not, in practice they weren’t much stronger than those on a cruiser, and cruisers were generally smaller targets.

            Empirial Guardsman Sink intellectually understood all of that, it had been part of his training, but it didn’t stop him from hating serving in space. The inheritance requirements were much stricter for the royal family than they were for the nobility. In addition to the tests, there was a service requirement, and their bodyguards had to follow them into service. It wouldn’t do to have royal heirs assassinated after all, even in an enlightened monarchy.

            So, he slipped into the medical ward late in the ship’s night. There had been many wounded, and more than a few deaths during the battle, and the ward had been frantic in the aftermath of the action. It was entirely possible that some of the medical staff had taken or used some very specific painkillers and forgotten to properly log it. It also helped that Empirial Guardsmen who were assigned to be the personal bodyguards of the royal family were given a very special backdoor code into most Empirial locks.

***

“Wow,” Kharlie breathed, “I’ve never actually seen any Winged Hussars before.”

            “They sure are striking, aren’t they?” Lucas answered.

            Elena frowned in annoyance. The list of things she needed to learn seemed to grow by the day. And despite studying up further on guns and the different types of ships on the way to Tau Boötis, she felt as though she was falling even further behind.

            “Would anyone care to fill me in?”

            She felt a flash of embarrassment from Lucas as he turned to her and said, “You know what Emperial Commandos are right?” He continued after she nodded in the affirmative. “Well, the Winged Hussars are the Navy’s version of that. Elite ships with elite crews.”

            He broke off and turned to Kharlie, who was manning her normal station; she seemed to find some comfort in sitting there. “Kharlie, pass me that message please.”

            Ever since he had questioned them at gunpoint, Lucas had made it a point of not turning his back to them, going so far as to lock them in cabins when he was sleeping. But now that they had made it to their destination, it felt as though a weight had lifted from his mind.

            She stood at his elbow and watched the screen come to life and display a man who could have stepped straight out of a recruiting poster.

            “MAS Makres Labama this is the Emperial Cruiser Pitschen, respond on channel V-1 or you will be fired upon.”

            The message was short, to the point, and left no room for misinterpretation. There was a tinge of fear that quickly shaded Kharlie’s initial awe.

            Lucas made a gesture at Kharlie and she scrambled to activate the proper video channel, once it was open she gave him a raised thumb in return.

            Lucas spoke quickly and clearly into the video pickup. “This is MAS Makres Labama, operational status Echo Echo November Seven.”

            Unlike before, the channel was live and in near real-time. “Roger that Labama, wait one while we verify.” The man, who had obviously been expecting a reply along those lines, said.

            “How much pull does your order have to get a pair of Winged Hussars waiting here for you?” Kharlie asked Lucas.

            “Not nearly as much as you assume, I was as surprised as you to see them here. I’m guessing they were just transiting through Tau Boötis and jumped at the chance to relieve some boredom.”

            The man on the screen looked away for a moment before his gaze returned and he asked “Makres Labama we confirm your status as Echo Echo November Seven, can you provide a verification code?”

            “Roger that Pitschen, verification code is 8-7-5-3-9-3-1-9.”

            Elena was curious about that number; it was the same code that had unlocked the armory and she guessed that it held a special significance.

            The serious look on the other side of the screen faded somewhat and the man said, “Welcome to Tau Boötis Operative Nite, we have someone here who has been waiting for you.” The man somehow knew Lucas’ name without him providing it first, it must have been attached to his special code.

            He shifted out of view and was replaced by a woman with straight pale-blue hair and a severe expression on her face. There was a curious upwelling of emotion from Lucas at the sight of the woman; they clearly had history together.

            “Lucas,” she said curtly as she bobbed her head in greeting.

            “Amber, it’s been a while. How are things?”

            “Satisfying. What is your situation? The emergency code and datalogs from your ship were unclear.”

            “I’ll tell you in a moment, but could you please inform those helpful Navy gentlemen that we might have a few pirates in the external pods? Some Marine assistance would be appreciated.”

            “Affirmative.” And then she cocked her head quizzically at Elena, who was standing in the edge of the pickup field. “Who’s she?”

            Strangely there was a flush of embarrassment from him before he answered. She knew that he wasn’t comfortable with her ability to read deeper into a conversation, but she didn’t exactly know how to turn it off. “This is Elena, I took her on at New Pittsburgh as my apprentice.”

            A pair of shuttles launched from each cruiser as Amber replied, apparently the ship commanders were listening in. “Oh. Your… apprentice. I see.” Even though Elena wasn’t close enough to read her emotions, she could see the hurt in the other woman’s eyes and found herself even more curious about their relationship with each other.

            He roughly cleared his throat before replying; apparently even he knew that he had hurt her feelings. “It’s not like that Amber. There are… extenuating circumstances we shouldn’t talk about over an open channel.

            “The interior of this ship is clear. And once those Marines finish checking those pods, we’ll dock with the Errand and crossdeck there. Would the captain of the Pitschen be willing to drop you off there and possibly put a prize crew on this freighter? She was in pirate hands when I took her, so she should be turned over to the Navy before she can make her way back to her rightful owners.”

            Amber glanced off-screen, presumably towards the handsome man who had spoken first, before replying, “Yes, we’ll do that. See you there.” And then the screen went blank as the signal was cut.

            Lucas let out a sigh before running his hands through his hair.

            “Was that your ex-girlfriend? She seemed… professional.” Kharlie said.

            “No, Amber and I never had that kind of relationship.”

            Elena smirked at what he left unsaid. “But that means you had some sort of relationship,” she teased.

            He gave her a half-hearted glare. “Since you two are enjoying teaming up on me, I only feel it’s fair to tell you that I’m going to be turning you both over to Amber.”

            It could be worse, it seemed that Amber was an easy read at least.

            “And I’ll be sure to tell her all about your extra abilities.” Well, that would definitely put a damper on things.

***

            Lucas felt the barest shudder through his boots as the cruiser Pitschen docked with the comparatively tiny and light Night Errand. Lucas had to hand it to the Winged Hussars, they really only accepted the best.

            A few moments later, the hatch chimed and Lucas opened it to see Amber waiting patiently, and alone, on the other side.

            “Lucas,” she said as her eyes swept the cargo bay. “I see you had another firefight in here.”

            He felt his lips quirk into a reflexive smile as he shrugged his shoulders. “You know I always prefer to have the home field advantage.” He couldn’t help teasing her, she was always too serious.

            “Hopefully one of these days you’ll actually bother upgrading your home field.” She said with a dismissive little sniff, telling him exactly what she thought of his ship.

            Knights of the Order, like himself, were given almost complete latitude to pursue their missions. For instance, one of the other operatives disguised himself as a rich playboy and sailed around in a luxurious yacht, he was actually slightly famous. And there was also the husband-wife duo of advancing years who pretended to be a retired couple seeing the sights.

            “You know that this is what works best for me.”

            “But you’re the only Knight who works alone. I…We worry about you.”

            “Well, I’m working alone anymore.”

            “Yes,” she said, drawing out the single syllable. “Elena was it? Do you trust her?”

            He shook his head. “No, but I trust you.” He turned on his wristcomp and it showed a view of both Elena and Kharlie waiting on the bridge. Kharlie was watching the Hussars’ cruisers as they maneuvered and Elena was studying a guide on the Empiral Navy and Marine Core.

            Amber paused and studied the screen. “Tell me about her. You wouldn’t just pick anyone as an apprentice.”

            “There’s not much to tell. I found her on the streets of New Pittsburgh, half-starved, and she followed me as I exfilled. She grew up in some sort of weird Chet’ir genetics lab in the Wastes – we need to put that on the ‘to investigate’ list by the way – and she’s a Succubus.”

            Lucas enjoyed a small moment of triumph as his revelations managed to break the detached façade Amber usually wore. She blinked a few times and her mouth formed a small ‘o’ before replying.  

            “Lucas, what exactly do you mean by Succubus?”

            “Oh, so you’re familiar with the term. You aren’t worried about the whole ‘raised in a Chet’ir genetics lab’ part either then?” he said jokingly.

            “Lucas Nite, tell me exactly what you meant when you said Succubus!”

            He smiled as he held his hands up placatingly, teasing Amber was fun but he knew better than to push too far. “The Chet’ir scientist that tinkered with her genes somehow gave her both the ability to shapeshift and some sort of empathic ESP. He’s the one that decided to call her a Succubus. Oh and she claims that he’s the one who also created Auguries.”

            She put a hand on his forearm. “Lucas, you cannot be serious about taking her on. If even half of that is true, she belongs under observation in either an intelligence or science facility.”

            He looked down at her hand. Her touch brought back many memories, but he forced them down and into a buried corner of his psyche. Gently, he pulled her hand away. “Amber, I think she could end up working out. She’s tough, already had her eyes opened, and her abilities would complement my skills fairly well. But, I trust you. Give her a chance, interview her, test her, whatever you need; if you decide she won’t work or isn’t up to snuff, then I won’t work with her.”

            Lucas had only ever seen Amber so emotional once before. Most people thought that she was dead inside, but he knew better. She just preferred to pretend that she didn’t have any feelings. Someone or something had hurt her so badly that she found it easier to go through life pretending to be an automaton. It was unclear what had happened, but he had entertained several idle fantasies about precisely how violent he would be if he ever found himself in a position to even the scales.

            “Okay.” And he watched as she visibly gathered and closed herself inside her shell once more. “Oh, and Lucas?”

            “Yes?”

            “There’s a second young woman on your bridge.”

            “Who, Kharlie? I guess there is…”

            And then he proceeded to fill her in as they walked to the bridge, Kharlie’s noble family, the fight with the Claret Coins on the Makres Labama, and his mission on New Pittsburgh. He had long since typed up a formal after action report and he sent it to her from his wristcomp as they walked.

            “Also, there’s one more thing about Kharlie, a recent development,” Lucas said as he examined his wristcomp. “It looks like she’s trying to hack into my files from a bridge station.” He watched with a wry smile as she tried to penetrate what was probably one of the stronger information repositories in human space, it would be a very bad thing for a Knight’s files to be breached while they were out on the field after all. It could compromise the entire Order if that happened, so the Order had accordingly put a very substantial effort into ensuring that it didn’t, and Lucas himself made sure to scrub sensitive files from the system at regular intervals.

            “Has she gotten very far?” Amber asked, sounding as curious as one would be about choosing something off of a lunch menu.

            “She’s made it past the first honeypot, but it looks like the second one has her stuck pretty good.”

            All defenses could be breached, given enough time and effort. So the hacking gurus the Order employed had gone for a multi-tiered system. Lucas didn’t understand all the technical jargon they often spouted, but he got the gist of it.

            There was a stout firewall, but nothing that would draw too much attention, protecting the whole system, and behind it was the first honeypot. It was filled with tons of information, all of it fairly useless and innocuous. Things like how much fuel or food was onboard, time since last thruster realignment, and other various junk data. Most decent hackers would realize it was a honeypot fairly quickly and look for a way out.

            After the first honeypot, there was a much more sophisticated firewall and the second honeypot, which contained slightly more useful information. The gurus had purposefully designed the second honeypot to hold information that could be interesting, or indicate that there was useful information nearby, in order to deliberately draw attention to it. After defeating the first honeypot, most people wouldn’t guess that the same trick was repeated twice.

            And the entire honeypot was seeded with a highly sophisticated suite of search and destroy programs that Lucas could prioritize with a variety of responses or even issue instructions to. The final firewall, guarding the exit from the second honeypot, was nearly undetectable – or so he was told – and that in turn guarded a literal airgap between the most private, secretive server and the rest of the ship’s information systems. Unless the ship was literally taken apart component by component, it would be almost impossible to find the airgap in the physical world and it was designed to need a special handshake from the invisible firewall for access, both ingoing and out, anyways.

            In short, not only was Kharlie wasting her time, but Lucas was watching nearly every move she made. The only thing that was unexpected was that she was searching for personal information on him instead of the Order.

            “Getting to the second honeypot shows that she might have some talent or good gear, but there’s nothing special about her if she can’t go any further. You recommended that we keep her and train her in house, so maybe she could specialize in data systems.”

            But, as Amber was talking, it seemed Kharlie had had some inspiration. It seemed that she realized it was a trap and was hunting for a way out. Lucas still wasn’t very concerned, he and Amber were literally just outside to the bridge and could stop her at any time.

            Elena had noticed their presence, and she was alternately glancing between Kharlie and the hatch. Lucas would have to go back through the security cam recordings to check just how close he had gotten before she had sensed him.

            A few minutes later Kharlie found a trace of the third firewall, and quickly followed the threads to the final obstacle. Breeching this firewall wouldn’t be enough, she would have to actually compromise it and turn it to her purposes. Only with it intact and cooperating could she get to the data she actually wanted.

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            Of course the search and destroy programs had been instructed to ignore her, or else she would have been forcefully ejected from the system moments after entering the second sandtrap, but even finding the final firewall was an achievement in its own right.

            “Third firewall,” Amber said, “she might be worth investing in after all.”

            Lucas didn’t reply and simply opened the hatch and strode onto the bridge. “I’d say that’s enough hacking for today.”

            Kharlie leapt back from what he idly noted was the communications terminal, and raised her hands in surrender.

            “Relax, I was expecting you to try something like this. That’s why I left you two alone on the bridge.”

            Then he turned and gestured to Amber. “This is Amber, she’s more or less the regional manager for the Order here, and she’s going to be interviewing the two of you personally. Elena, I know you want to be my apprentice and while I’m okay with that, Amber holds the final approval. And Kharlie, I’m not sure where you’re going to fit into our organization, but I’m sure Amber will be able to find something that fits.”

            Elena simply nodded and began to study Amber, probably using her empathic abilities to get a reading. But Kharlie, who had dropped her hands, raised them again, this time angrily, and said, “Hold on, who said I want to join up with your Order?”

            “You did, when you decided to try your hand at hacking into my ship. It was a decent effort to be sure, but you weren’t ever really going to get anywhere.”

            “What, do you think you and your Order can just shanghai me?”

            Lucas gave her the serious look. The one he used to show he wasn’t fucking around. “It’s either that, or you disappear.” Kharlie visibly paled at that, which made her bright blue eyes contrast even more starkly with her skin.

            He really was serious. The Order was as old as the Empire itself, created in secret by Empress Charlotte on the very day she declared the end to the Consolidation War. In the long years since, there had been more than a few members of the Order or those investigating it who had tried to expose or undermine it. And every single one of those people had been… dealt with, in one way or another.

            “There’s no need to be hasty. I will conduct the interview process and then give you the sales pitch. You might be surprised by the benefits the Order offers its employees. And Lucas seems to be in the process of putting together a team, so you may already have your foot in the door there.” Amber’s flat and lackluster description of the Order’s benefits package aside, her good cop to his bad cop seemed to be working on Kharlie just as it had on others for thousands of years.

            Lucas moved to the helm, the central station on the Errand’s bridge, and after a quick signoff with the Pitschen, began maneuvering for Tau Boötis Ac, or Fribourg as it was known. Tau Boötis was technically a binary star system, but Tau Boötis B was a dim red dwarf over thirty-three light-hours away from the main sequence Tau Boötis A.

            The first planet orbiting Tau Boötis, Ab, or Perturbo as the locals had named it, was a large gas giant orbiting A at a scorching twenty-four light-seconds. Even if Perturbo had any moons, they would be unsuitable for human colonization. For comparison, Mercury, the innermost planet of the Sol system, orbited at an average of one hundred and ninety-three light seconds, and Tau Boötis A was both larger and hotter than Sol.

            Despite its close proximity to Earth, Fribourg wasn’t discovered until the second wave of human colonization, as it had required pulling together observations from multiple colonies to find the planet orbiting the habitable zone through Pertubo’s interference.

            Even though Fribourg had been a late starter by colonial standards, the planet itself had required minimal terraforming and grown explosively. First as a trade port – Earth itself was only fifty-one light-years away – then later as a center for banking, and even shipbuilding. The colony had arguably came out ahead from being part of the second wave, as faster ships and better terraforming techniques had allowed them to skip over the hard-scrabble generation most of the first colonies went though.

            The Order’s regional headquarters were located on the planet itself, and once Lucas obtained landing permission from the ATC’s, he began to gently deorbit. Amber was sitting in the back of the bridge and talking quietly with Elena and Kharlie. He was sure that she had the two of them well in hand.

            As the Errand dropped into the atmosphere, the blackness of space gradually gave way to a cyan-colored sky. Fribourg was surrounded by orbital installations, satellites, and traffic, so he stuck close to his assigned path. Eventually the city of Landfall appeared on the horizon; it was a tradition amongst almost every colony that the site of touchdown and the first settlement was called some variation of that name.

            Unlike most cities on Earth, Landfall was designed from the ground up to support a modern infrastructure. There skylanes were spacious and well-designed for aircars traveling at multiple heights, and there were levels reserved for pedestrians and parking regularly interspersed. The gleaming modern towers were had plenty of room between them, and the city had a pleasant repeating pattern of smaller industrial, business, and farming zones interspersed with residential towers. There were still roads and rails on the ground for heavy freight, but much of the floor of the city was given over to a lush carpet of parks and nature preserves.

            Outside of the city there were still suburbs for those who wished for more personal space, and the ever present agricultural fields, it wasn’t possible to grow all the food in the vertical farms inside the city after all.

            The original city planners had done an absolutely remarkable job in allocating space for orderly future growth. So well in fact, that the city was just now starting to reach its designed size and capacity, several hundred years after landfall.

            The Order’s headquarters were currently located along the river that cut dramatically through the city center. There was space for three or four smaller ships to land at the facility, but otherwise, not much about it stood out.

            As the ship touched down outside the grey-blue building, a couple robotic tenders emerged from a maintenance garage. They carried over a few different umbilicals to transfer waste, fuel, and water into the ship. Such tenders were commonplace throughout human space and it was easy to ignore them, but Lucas knew that these particular ones been built for a little bit more than just plugging in maintenance hoses.

             “That outfit you are wearing,” Lucas heard Amber saying from the back of the bridge, “it’s made from Lucas’ clothes isn’t it?” It was subtle, but he heard an accusatory edge to the question.

            That got his attention. He had noticed that the few times they had been together, Amber had almost always used his shirts as sleepwear. His interest in the conversation was definitely piqued.

            “Yes, they’re his. My rags didn’t survive half the escape from New Pittsburgh, so Lucas stole some clothes from a house and dressed me in them. They didn’t fit very well, so he let me look through his wardrobe to find something that I liked.”

            That was impressive and worrying at the same time. The speed with which Elena found strings to pull on was amazing, but she tried to look for advantage too often.

            “He… let you go through his clothes?” She grappled with her word choice for a moment. This was a side of Amber that Lucas had rarely seen, she was usually so confident, so self-possessed and forthright. “Well, they look good on you, but I think we should do some shopping for you.”

            “This shapechanging, you said it’s slow right?” Kharlie chimed in, it seemed she was more comfortable on the fringes of a conversation. “Do you have any idea about how you’ll look like when it’s finished? We need to know to choose the right clothes.”

            No one on the bridge could miss the sly look that Elena shot at him, and he knew that he need to have a serious conversation with her soon. He realized that he had damaged her trust when he decided to ‘question’ her and Kharlie, but if they were going to be working together, then he couldn’t be worrying that she was seeking the upper hand or some sort of ulterior motive with every interaction.

            “I do have some idea of the height and weight, but the little details like hair and face are pretty up in the air right now.” She said as she tucked a strand of her wavy hair over an ear while giving Amber a shy look.

            Now that he thought about it, she had started to fill out quite quickly. Gone was the malnourished and half-starved girl he had found in the streets. Granted, a lot of that could be put down to clean clothes and hot showers, but it looked like she was already a few centimeters taller and she had definitely put on a kilo or three. He could probably access the security cam and use the footage to get an original height estimate.

            “If we all go shopping together, I’m betting we can do some serious damage. There’s just one small problem.” Kharlie said as she turned to face him directly. “We don’t have any money!”

            Lucas had assumed that the Order would be picking up the small tab for temporarily housing the two young women. He would obviously pay for Elena if she became his apprentice; in fact he had been making plans to do a little shopping of his own in order to get a head start on outfitting her. But, he had to admit that he had forgotten to think about things beyond what he deemed the bare necessities.

            Amber’s eyes flicked towards him, and he swore was malice in them for an instant.

            “Lucas, while the Order will provide food and housing for these two during the testing period, we cannot be responsible for clothing them as well,” she said.

            “You’re telling me you want access to my account right?”

            “Affirmative.”

            “Please,” Kharlie said with a puppy-dog look on her face. His eyes were drawn to her bobbed hair swaying slightly as she pleaded with him. He knew exactly what she was doing, and yet he still wanted to give in. This sudden weakness to attractive women was concerning; he was far from inexperienced and he hadn’t reacted this way in over a decade.

            He let out a heavy sigh and said, “And how much do you think you’re going to need?”

            “How much are you offering?” Kharlie said at the same time that Amber said, “Fifty-thousand lyra at a minimum.”

            “Fifty… Thousand? I could buy a set of combat armor for that much. I was thinking something more along the lines of one thousand.”

            “Unacceptable. Sixty thousand.”

            “Amber, are you sure you know how negotiation works? I’m willing to go as high as three thousand.”

            “Seventy thousand,” she immediately replied.

            “Fine, you’re right. Three thousand probably isn’t enough, but five sounds fair.”

            “Seventy-five thousand or I tell them the story involving that Companion in Baccarin.”

            “… Seventy-five thousand and you don’t say a word or I’ll com your mother.”

            “Very well, we have an accord.”

            Elena and Kharlie were watching with looks of rapt attention on their faces.

            “Well, are we going or are we just going to sit on the ship all day?” Lucas asked, suddenly eager to move.

            He strode from the bridge and after a quick stop at the armory went down to the cargo bay, where he exited via the hatch there. His first lungful of Fribourg air was fresh and invigorating. No matter how well the particulate filters and recyclers aboard a ship were working, the air onboard always seemed to have a mechanical or oily undertone to it. One of his favorite things about travelling for the Order was tasting the air on all the different colonies.

            After a quick perusal of the to-do list on his wristcomp, he made a list of the places he would have to stop at. But, first, he needed Elena’s measurements.

            “Elena, would you mind giving me your measurements. Or, whatever size you think you’ll be once you’ve finished transforming?”

            “Uh, sure. I think I’ll be somewhere around 175 centimeters tall, just over 60 kilos, with a fairly large bust, thin waist, and curvy hips.”

            “That’s what you’re changing into!? Who wouldn’t think you were hot?” Kharlie protested.

            “The body helps, but it’s the little details like the nose, eye shape, and chin that really determine someone’s interest.”

            Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t deny her words. While the shape she described certainly sounded pleasing, he had more than once seen people with noses or eyes that he found indescribably odd. Focusing, he shook his head and committed the measurements to memory, he would need them to get her a properly fitted set of armor.

            “Oh,” he said as he remembered on last thing, “how long will this process take? I know you said it was slow, but is it a few weeks slow or maybe a year-long ordeal?”

            “My body will take almost as much as I can feed it. I think that the fastest would be two or three weeks.”

            “Understood. Lucas, if you wish for her to be fed extra, the cost will need to be deducted from your account.” Amber chose that moment to reinsert herself into the conversation.

            “Fine. Feed her as much as she wants and go ahead and charge my account.”

            “Thank you!” Elena said as she touched his elbow.

            “Alright, that’s enough of that now,” he said gruffly. “Now, you two be on your best behavior with Amber, she’s actually more dangerous than I am. I’ll see you in a few days.” And so saying, he lifted the case he had grabbed from the armory and strode off into the city.

            He and Amber had discussed it beforehand; with him gone, they should feel more uncertain about things, and his casual threat of Amber being dangerous should add to that. Putting them under stress like that should help the profilers figure them out that much more easily.

            The case was awkwardly heavy on his shoulder and he was getting more than a few strange looks from the other pedestrians, but he liked to feel the pulse of a city when he visited. Watching if people seemed hurried or stressed, the amount of litter, even if there were teens or children out and about told someone who knew how to pay attention a lot about the state of a city. While he wasn’t a natural at that sort of thing, the Order had trained him to pay attention.

            After nearly an hour of taking gravlifts and the occasional slidewalk, his destination came into view. Well, his destination could be seen from miles away, but he was finally close enough to reach it.

            The Hyperion was one of the regularly-spaced breaks in the city’s repeating makeup; like the gravball stadium or the spaceport. Hyperion was a giant four-sided ‘H’ towering over five-hundred meters. Taking up four whole city blocks, one for each leg of the H, traffic actually flowed and flew through it. The entire building was one shopping mall, and the associated storage, parking, and other ancillary services.

            The most exclusive stores were located on both the top and bottom floors. Nearly everything one could need to buy could be found within, everything from aircars, furniture, food, clothes, entertainment, even industrial tooling. And while Lucas had spent his fair share of time browsing on the top and bottom floors, today he was after something specific.

            He hauled the case into the warren that made up the subterranean levels. Twenty minutes and one pickpocket attempt later he found himself outside of store whose sign had at one time proclaimed it to be Gödel’s, but the ‘s’ had somehow been lost or stolen, rendering the sign incomplete.

            The lighting was spotty in the subterranean levels and many of the storefronts deliberately chose not to advertise their wares to passersby. It was almost inevitable that there would be some sort of black or grey market, and on Fribourg it was tolerated to a certain degree. They had provided a place for goods of questionable legality to be sold and law enforcement generally left it alone as well. Provided, of course, the criminals didn’t step over certain precisely defined lines.

            As a result, the nobles in charge of the colony had almost invited organized crime into their homes, but in their minds it was preferable to unoganized crime. Organized criminals could be reasoned with, would police themselves, and to a certain extent, be predicted. If there had to be criminal activity at all, this was by far the preferable method.

            That wasn’t to say that every shop in the subterranean levels was run by the Family, as they unoriginally called themselves. There were plenty of poor startups or merchants who had fallen on hard times to be found. And then there were the hidden gems like Lazlo’s store.

            Lucas stepped through the door and was greeted with an ear-deafening shout and a slap on the back that nearly sent him to the ground.

            “Lucas! You should have commed ahead and told me you were coming!” The man-sized bear shouted.

            He dropped the crate and steadied himself on his feet before turning to return the backslap. Lazlo was one of those old men who simply refused to age; his body might be covered in what amounted to silver fur, his skin increasingly wrinkly, but he moved with an energy that would flabbergast someone a quarter his age.

            “Lazlo, how you been old man?”

            “Ha, I may be old, but I still work twice as hard as you do, and for half the money no less!” He said as he leaned back into a deep belly laugh.

            Lazlo was larger than life people and seemed to get along with everyone. Even the Family left him alone, but that also could have something to do with his possession of enough firepower to level most of the subterranean shopping district.

            Gödel’s was an arms and armor shop. While most people were satisfied with what was on the shelves, and the rich or mercenary companies with what could be bought at the high end boutiques, those that required the best understood one simple axiom. The best was built, not bought.

            Lazlo was one of only a handful grandmaster armorers scattered throughout the Empire. And as befit all true masters of their trade, he only dealt with those he wanted to deal with.

            Lucas smiled at the old man before he said, “Well, I don’t know about working twice as hard, I think I’m about to take on an apprentice.”

            “What?” he roared as he placed his mechanical hands on his cheeks in mock shock, “You, take on an apprentice?”

            “Yeah, what can I say? I just found someone that seemed like the right fit and I couldn’t say no when they asked.”

            “Well, I take it you’re here for an outfitting then? Do you have measurements? What sort of weapons does he prefer?”

            Lucas cut him off there. “She, my apprentice is a she. I have measurements, and I’m going to have to pass on buying her any of your weapons just yet.”

            “She, huh? And why the hell aren’t you buying any guns here? Don’t tell me you’re going to that smiling bastard Ricciardo!”

            He cut him off again; that was the thing with Lazlo, if you let him keep going, he would eventually build up a head of steam. “Relax old timer, I’m just going to give her some standard issue crap to begin with.”

            “Lucas, I like you, you know that. But I am this close,” he up his thumb and forefinger pressed together, “to kicking you out of my damn shop! Standard issue! The god damned nerve!”

            He smiled as Lazlo began working himself into a rage again. “Easy old man, take the time to hear me out before you fly off the handle like that. Elena hasn’t ever handled any guns before. She’s almost a blank slate, and she definitely doesn’t deserve to get her hands on anything you’ve built.

            “Hmph, you should have said that at the beginning. What are you doing picking up someone like that? You might not tell me exactly what it is you do, but I make your gear dammit. I know what you get up to with it, and taking a rookie along is just going to get one or both of you killed.”

            “You worry too much old man. Sure things are starting to heat up, but I figure I have a couple years to train her up. Don’t worry, she won’t be using that off the rack crap for long. I’ll have you know I know how to assemble a pretty decent gun myself.”

            “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go getting a big head because you pick good parts out of a bin. We both know there’s much more to it than that.”

            “I know Lazlo, she’ll be shopping in here with me as soon as I think she’s ready.”

            “Fine. Well, to business then. What do you need this time?”

            Lucas popped the catches on the crate he brought and first pulled out the ruined chest plate.

            “…Lucas. What have you done to this?”

            “Technically it was someone else who did the doing. But if I recall correctly it got hit by an assortment of kinetic and laser rounds over the course of a couple years. Really saved my life.”

            “Lucas, my armor stands up to more than ‘an assortment of rounds’. What. Did. You. Do?” The one edge of the compromised crate crumpled to dust under the impressive strength of those slender and delicate seeming mechanical hands.

            “Well, there was this one small incident involving a mechsuit laser last year. It never looked the same after that.”

            Lazlo held up his hand. “Stop, I don’t want to hear anymore. Same measurements as last time? And for the girl?”

            Lucas didn’t bother trying to correct him – Elena really was a girl compared to him – so he just gave her the height, weight, and that she was busty.

            “Fine, two chest plates. I take it you need ammo too?”

            “Lots. Caseless and cased, rifle and pistol. Oh and I need a new laser diode for my Drang, it’s starting to overheat more quickly. And I need everything within the week if you can.”

            “Do you know how hard it is to layup that carbon-kevlar ceramic matrix I use in your damn armor? I have to do it all by hand, one tiny mistake and poof, you might as well be wearing glass. And all that ammo! I make it one round at a time,” Lazlo lamented.

            “Come on old man, I know you can do it. I’ll stick around for a while and give you a hand if you want.”

            “Hmph, as if you’re even fit to hand me my tools. Go, I’ll call you in a few days.”

            Lucas gave him a big smile and said, “You’re the best Lazlo.”

            “I know I’m the best, and your bank account will definitely know it soon.”

            Lucas waved as he retreated out the door. “Yeah, yeah. You’re worth every penny though old timer.”

            Lazlo really was the best. Sure his stuff might cost an order of magnitude over what was available even at the boutiques, but it was just that little bit better. And in his work, it was that last tiny bit that really made the difference. Both his pistols were fit and balanced for his hands, forearm musculature, and his preferred instinctive shooting style. The rifle, Storm, fired precisely 1361 rounds per minute because Lazlo had done some fancy math and determined it to be the optimal fire rate based on the current barrel’s harmonics. The fire rate would be tweaked slightly to match the next barrel, whenever the current one wore out.

            That was arms and armor taken care of. Next he needed to get replacement ammo and another capacitor cum mine for the Night Errand.

            The only things left on his list after taking care of his ship were to get his ears repaired and spend some time exercising. It was dawning on him that his life was really stuck in a rut. Sure, the work he did was important and he believed wholeheartedly in it, but now, all of a sudden that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Now he wanted something more.