Randolph Lalonde - Resurrection

“Thank you sir, I'm looking forward to the new assignment,” he replied, inwardly cringing at the idea of having an Intelligence officer follow his every step.

“Good, it's not every day I have the opportunity of posting one of my best men on the most advanced ship in the fleet. Good luck Major McPatrick. Rear Admiral Trenton out.”

The hologram disappeared and Terry sat down behind his desk. “Helm, set course to Freeground and get underway at maximum speed. Stealth is not an issue,” he ordered. The communications system in his quarters passed his instructions on.

“Aye sir,” replied the helmsman.

He just thought about his old Captain for a long moment. His humour, his forward thinking and how he constantly put the crew's welfare before his own. It was that attitude that prompted him to surrender himself to the enemy almost eight years ago so the First Light and her remaining crew could escape. A sacrifice Captain McPatrick wasn't sure he could make if he were in the same position.

He turned his desk console on and brought up the records on Jake Valance. Hours later he was still in that chair, watching his old friend chase down bounty after bounty in security footage. There was no denying that the person in those images was Jonas Valent, but he had become a man Oz did not know.

His hair. That's his most ridiculous feature. She thought to herself as she looked across the table to the mergillian while he inspected the violet diamonds she had brought him. As he watched the scanner's results come up she couldn't stop staring. He was short. A little over four feet, with a broad face and a thin, wide mouth. Most of his people took pride in their racial features. They ate a special diet so the circles and spots on the back of their heads, arms and backs showed up more. Robert Swanson, not his birth name, did the opposite.

He was obsessed with all things human. He had hair implanted across the top of his broad, smooth head. The amount of secretions his body created had been reduced and he even had his back and arms pigment shifted so his spots were hidden. His nostril holes flared slightly as he inspected the last diamond. “I can give you twelve thousand for the lot.”

“They're worth ten times that much.”

“Perhaps twice the price I'm offering. Besides, there isn't much call for this kind of thing here. I will have to sell them as a distributor to another trader. Twelve thousand.”

“Fifteen and I'll throw in my eternal gratitude.” She said, winking her cybernetic eye. She knew it unnerved him. The fine green shifting mechanics inside the eye worked to refocus whenever she blinked. Her real eye was a deep, natural green that matched in pigment only.

“Thirteen. My partners will not be happy.”

“Fine, but you're losing a customer at that price.”

Robert transferred credits to a small chip and slid it across the table. She slipped it into a hidden slot in her wrist computer. It was a dull grey metal band a centimetre thick and five centimetres wide. “It's a transitional port, Fran. Everyone stops here, no one stays. There are always more customers.”

Alice took her imitation black leather jacket from the back of her chair and put it on. She didn't say another word as she walked out of the small cafe.

The old port was busy. It was a station made from derelicts. She had seen quite a few of them in that edge of space. The frontier worlds worked on a budget. Many of them bought decommissioned space station segments and starships then hauled them out to the edge of space where terraforming was still being performed everywhere you looked and there were unclaimed resources waiting to be staked.

Starbase EUT4528 was a collection of components just welded together. She sealed up the neckline of her vacsuit, leaving only a small six inch exposed portion beneath her neck so she could feel the air. “I can't wait to leave that name behind. Fran. It just doesn't fit,” she said through her mental communicator's interlink. It was a small chip embedded in her outer skull that allowed her to send thoughts along communication lines as words.

“I'll never cease to be amused at how humans and those who prefer them are mesmerized by even the glimpse of cleavage,” the voice of her Artificial Intelligence mused aloud in her ear.

“I thought you'd understand a bit better after I crammed everything by Desmond Morris into your memory.”

“That was very informative and the logical reasons behind various aspects of the human condition were well explained but I'm afraid I just don't understand as well as you do.”

“Oh, I don't completely understand it either, Lewis, but that doesn't mean I won't take advantage of it.”

“Bernice would not approve.”

“She's the one who showed me the relation between low necklines and better bargaining results. Anyway, is there any sign of trouble on the security network?”

“You told me not to hack in, remember?”

“Well, hack in, you're supposed to be a predictive program.”

“One moment please,” Lewis replied with a sigh.

She stopped at one of the promenade balconies to look over the sad attempt at a garden in the center of the courtyard below. She sympathized with whoever was trying to keep the sickly looking palm trees and strawberry patches alive. She had tried to make smaller plants take root on her ship with little success.

“Excuse me, miss?” Asked a voice behind her.

Alice turned around with her hand on the Spectral Dynamics Violator Handgun, the same kind Jake Valance carried. “Yes?” She said, smiling at the woman. She was five foot six and compared to Alice's five foot eleven she was much shorter. The lady was well dressed and well kept, someone who was used to travelling in comfort. The thermal reading from her eyepiece told Alice the other woman was nervous.

“I was wondering, where did you find that vacsuit? Do you have an extra I could buy from you perhaps?” She looked Alice up and down. The vacsuit she was referring to was the same Freegrounders commonly used. Form fitted with many very thin practical layers that hid air recyclers, heat protection, climate controls, anti-impact protection and many other features. Alice wore a navy blue version of the suit she had made herself with her wrist unit.

“This is my only one, sorry. You can buy them from Vindyne Industries. They stole the technology and marketed them. If you want the genuine article you'll have to go to Freeground. They're actually just a materialized medium with intelligent armour and circuit base layers. You install the features you need as you materialize them.”

“Oh, I just like the way they look. Too bad Vindyne just went bankrupt. I'll have to look up Freeground in our ship's nav computer.”

“It's about three months from here by wormhole, but it's worth the trip if you have the time.”

The woman boggled and giggled nervously. “Maybe I'll be out that way someday, thank you,” the woman nodded nervously and walked on.

Alice couldn't believe what she just heard, and had to double check. “Sorry, did you say Vindyne went bankrupt?” She called after the woman.

“It's all over Hart News.”

“That would explain why I didn't hear, my subscription ran out.”

“You might want to renew. There's a whole expose available.”

“Thank you, I think I will.” Alice said as she started walking towards the express car tube. She pressed the call button and the car was there a moment later, crammed full of people. She squeezed in anyway. “Bay 291,” she said to the automated system.

“There are people taking a very close look at the Clever Dream, ” her artificial intelligence informed her.

“Admirers or hunters?”

“One of them tried poking at my entry control panel. I didn't let them slide the access door open to look at it.”