bandombigbang 10: Part III
Part II - Part IV
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There are a total of five rooms on the Ship that Andy doesn’t keep a strict eye on: crew quarters and the small storage lab off the secondary hallway on the third level, the one behind the perpetually dying potted plant. Meaning there is only the barest possible amount of surveillance on each of those rooms - temperature and life sensor readings only - and Andy doesn’t allow anyone access to those particular logs, not even himself. Considering that he’s a Living Ship, that’s about the only concession to privacy he can make for his crew.
Thankfully, his crew doesn’t seem too bothered by the concept. Andy has always been a bit boggled by that fact, though logically he knows he shouldn’t have been. This crew is young and of a generation that had practically been raised by technology. They’d been more surprised about the lack of surveillance than anything else. Obviously Andy’s spent too many years working with men and women who have had too many secrets and too little contact with advanced technology to just trust the ones they work around.
And, when Andy is being honest, he’s glad he doesn’t exactly know what is going on in any of those rooms. Especially the small storage lab.
But passenger quarters? Those are fair game.
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“Okay, seriously. I can tell when you’re actively watching me, dude, and not just when you’re automatically running your scans,” Joe says. He’s looking directly into the main camera in his quarters - the one that overlooks both the sleeping area and the entrance - which isn’t exactly accessible from the floor. Especially for someone as short as Joe. Andy doesn’t have another sensor in the room that can explain Joe’s sudden growth spurt. Andy finds this disconcerting.
“Seriously. Either show up so we can have a chat or go away, dude. You’re being a creeper,” Joe continues. He pauses, and then frowns. “Actually, scratch option two. I want to have a chat with you, oh mighty Ship, so materialize your fine ass.”
Andy contemplates this for a moment. Joe hasn’t asked for a single thing from Andy since he’s stepped aboard, unlike his fellow passengers, who were continuing to drive Andy completely mad.
(Andy’s caught Pete and Patrick in compromising positions in nearly every section on every deck. Considering there are six sections to each deck, except for One, this is a rather uncomfortable number of accounts that Andy really would have preferred to have never have witnessed, seeing as he’ll never actually be able to completely wipe the images from his memory banks.
To add insult to the injuries, Matt refused to let him space them out of the airlock the last time he’d caught them in the shuttle bay. Stupid fucking courtesy protocols.)
Joe, however, has been a most courteous passenger. He’s spent most of his time hanging out with Kyle down in the maintenance bay shooting the breeze or running around with Stu doing whatever it is that Stu actually gets up to when Andy isn’t paying attention to him.
(Andy doesn’t have to keep a strict, if unnoticed, eye on Stu and he likes that fact. Kyle and Ryan are always creating things that would wreck havoc on the Universe should they be removed from the ship, and Matt is, well, Matt. Stu is the least likely one to do something stupid, and when he does, Andy usually figures it out pretty quickly.)
Andy likes Joe, so talking to him shouldn’t cause that many issues. Andy hopes, anyway. It usually is the quiet, respectful ones that throw the biggest monkey wrenches of them all.
“What’s up with the pop sound effects, dude?” Joe asks after he hops down from the crate he’d dragged over to the wall. “Shouldn’t you be able to appear without it? You don’t usually make any noise when you disappear.”
It figures that Joe would be the one to notice and comment on that. “One of my former crew members took a distinct dislike to my appearing without sound. Said it startled the shit out of her,” Andy says with a shrug. “She almost decapitated another crew member at one point, so I programmed in the sound that annoyed her the most.”
“Ah,” Joe says. He sits down on the edge of his bed and gestures for Andy to pull up his own seat. Andy appreciates how polite Joe can be (politeness honestly is a rarity in the Universe), even if it isn’t particularly necessary. Holograms don’t really need to sit.
Andy does anyway. “What do you want to talk to me about? If it’s about not spacing Pete and Patrick, you should talk to Mixon - he’s the one that told me not to.”
“And you listened to him,” Joe says. He has his head tilted to the side, and he’s grinning at Andy.
“Yes, that’s been known to happen. He is my pilot,” Andy says.
Joe smiles. “Yeah, I got that. How’s he holding up? He looked a little green after that last jump.”
“He’s fine. We came out a little close to that star, and it shook him a bit,” Andy says. Granted, they came out of hyperspace looking like they were going to plow straight into the star, and Matt wasn’t the only one a little shook up about it. Stu had gone straight to the storage bay on Three behind the dead plant, and Kyle had disappeared straight to the nearest bathroom. Andy had spent a couple of hours going over his sensors a couple (six or seven) times himself. “He’s sleeping now. We’re going to hold off the next jump a couple of hours to be sure.”
“Good plan that.” Joe nods. He leans back on his hands and watches Andy for a couple of minutes. Andy uses the break to double check on everyone else on the ship: Stu is still locked away behind the dead plant, Kyle is in the kitchens baking while Ryan laughs at him and steals the batter, Matt is still sleeping, and Patrick and Pete are. Fuck.
“Patrick and Pete are at it again, aren’t they?” Joe laughs at him. “They’re like rabbits, man. Every where and all the time.”
“If they’d just stick to their quarters, or fuck, Patrick’s lab, I wouldn’t have an issue,” Andy says. “But the gym? People have to use that space; it’s unhygienic.”
Joe laughs some more. He’s laughing so hard that he’s curling up on himself. Andy doesn’t think about how awesome it would be to have actual hands with which to choke annoying people.
“You wanted to talk, Trohman,” Andy points out once Joe’s laughs trail off into sporadic giggles.
“Right, right, sorry.” Joe giggles again, but he pushes himself back up into a sitting position. “Right, I did. It’s just. ‘Unhygienic’? Really? That’s your protest?”
Andy raises an eyebrow. “What? You want me to say I’m jealous of all the sex?”
“Hey, if it’s the truth, it’s the truth, man. I’m not going to say one way or the other.” Joe shrugs. “Anyway, I didn’t ask you here to talk about Patrick and Pete’s sex life.”
“I should hope not,” Andy says. “Gossip is more Mixon’s deal.”
Joe nods. “Yeah, I get that. Matt is actually who I wanted to talk to you about. Sort of, anyway.”
Andy blinks. “You want to talk to me about Mixon? Or not?”
“Not particularly Matt, but it all relates in a circular sort of fashion,” Joe says.
Even being a Living Ship capable of calculating very large numbers very quickly doesn’t mean that other beings don’t confuse Andy. This is a prime example of that. “Right. Circular fashion.”
Joe laughs some more. “Yeah. That’s it. Have you ever thought about not being a Ship?”
Andy blinks again. And now he’s really confused. “What?”
“No, seriously, man. Have you ever thought about it?” Joe asks. He’s still smiling, but he isn’t laughing anymore. His eyes have even gone serious. Andy doesn’t think he’s ever seen Joe serious. It’s a little weird, no lie. “Like, have you ever thought of not being the only one of your kind?”
“Sure,” Andy draws out the word. “It isn’t logical to think that there’s only one of something in the whole Universe - everything has a second and most a good deal more.”
“No, no, man. Not logical. Totally not what I’m aiming at here. I mean, like, emotionally have you thought about it?” Joe asks. “You’ve kindred spirits with your crew, that’s obvious - and you can’t say you don’t have emotions, because I’ve seen you when you’re engaging with Matt: you totally have emotions - but kindred spirits isn’t exactly the same as having straight down to the genetic level similarities family.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” Andy says. “Are you asking me if I’ve ever thought about the rest of my race? If there ever really was a rest to have?”
“I.” Joe pauses for a second, obviously mulling that over. “Partially. Having another member of your race to compare to would be helpful, but mostly I was getting at family.”
Andy doesn’t know about the whole family angle Joe is pushing, but he has thought about what it would be like to know another Living Ship. A time or two. Mostly when he most wants to be strangling one of his crew members. “Yes, I have thought about meeting another Living Ship. I don’t understand what that has to do with my thinking about not being a Ship.”
“Nah, I didn’t think you would.” Joe smiles a little crookedly. “Don’t worry about it. I was mostly just wool gathering. Anyway, I actually wanted to talk to you about Patrick and Pete.”
Andy raises an eyebrow again. “Is this the part where you threaten me to not space your friends or else?”
Joe shakes his head. “There really isn’t much I could do about that whole ‘or else’ thing, so I’m thinking threatening you wouldn’t really work out so well.”
“You’d be surprised at how often that thought doesn’t occur to people,” Andy says.
“I’ve been around a few times, so I think I get where you’re coming from, dude,” Joe laughs. “Actually, I was going to ask you to cut them some slack. Patrick is a little extra stressed about this whole thing, and Pete is just trying to keep him from going homicidal. Not that there are other ways to de-stress the dude, but Pete loves Patrick and apparently the sex is great. Can’t really blame dudes for sexing it up when the sexing is great.”
Andy blinks again. He has a feeling if he were more humanoid he’d be dealing with a headache right about then. “I feel that there is something I’m supposed to be asking about why Patrick is ‘a little extra stressed’, but I’m fairly certain I don’t want to know.”
Joe shrugs. “Nah, it’s probably easier not to ask. It shouldn’t be a problem anyway.”
“Right.” Andy climbs to his holographic feet. He doesn’t need to be standing to shut off his holographic form but Maja had trained him well. “I’ll take this under advisement, Trohman.”
“We’d all appreciate it,” Joe says. “Really. Most of the time telling Pete not to do something, especially when you threaten him, well. He’s contrary.”
Andy laughs. “Considering the first time I caught them, he deliberately mooned me? Yeah, I can see that.”
“Awesome, man. Thanks for chatting. I’m gonna catch some shut eye before the next jump, you can let yourself out, right?” Joe climbs up the bed as he’s talking and curls up under the covers.
Andy can’t help but laugh again. “Yeah, Trohman, I’m good. Sleep well.”
“Thanks, dude. Night.” He’s asleep pretty much as soon as he finishes the words.
Andy likes Joe, so he’s extra quiet as his holographic form fades out. He even turns down the lights before he goes to double check Matt. They only have five more hours until the next scheduled jump, and Andy knows Matt is going to argue with him about waiting the two extra hours to be safe. Sometimes Matt’s nocturnal mumblings give away his arguments.
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They come across a little bit of trouble with the local PLEOs (that is, Planetary Law Enforcement Officers) after their fifth jump drops them right in the middle of a major trade lane. That wouldn’t have been much of an issue - it wasn’t like there were any actual trade ships using the lane or anything - except for how they’d happened to have dropped back into normal space about a mile off of a rather large PLEO cruiser-class vessel with an active tractive beam and a crew with itchy trigger fingers.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Patrick says. “You have maybe, maybe, six hundred ships passing through here every year. Six hundred in a year. That does not spell ‘major trade lane’. That spells ‘could pass for a paved road.’”
“Patrick, perhaps now isn’t the time to be getting into your issues with back-galaxy solar systems,” Joe says. He pokes at the screen in front of him for a second, reads whatever it tells him, then frowns before he pokes at it again. “Especially since these guys are either AFEV or Military.”
Patrick gestures wildly at the main view screen where the image of a large, balding, overweight officer is glaring at them. “Really, Joe. Does that guy look AFEV or Military to you?”
Joe looks at the guy, then shrugs. “Okay, no. Sorry, dude, but you’d never pass even AFEV fitness regs.” He smiles sheepishly at the guy. Then he turns back to Patrick, motioning the scientist over to look at what he’d pulled up on his screen. “But that is a cruiser-class ship registered under the name Infinite Darkness for the Military AFEV branch.”
“ Infinite Darkness? Really?” Matt does his best not to smile or laugh, considering that would probably be taken as a hostile action by the fat guy currently in charge of the tractive controls, but that has to be one of the worst ship names he’s come across yet. And he spent a year apprenticed on a frigate loving called My Lady’s Left Ball.
“Yes, really,” the guy says. He’s slowly turning a deep violet. Matt thinks his left eye might be starting to twitch as well, but Matt’s tired so his eyes might just be playing tricks on him. “I do not believe you or your crew seem to understand the trouble you are currently in, Captain.”
The guy is totally addressing Matt, too. Stu is snickering somewhere off to Matt’s left, and Matt raises his eyebrow at the guy just so he can keep from laughing himself. “Yeah, no. I’m not the Captain, dude. Name’s Matt Mixon, and I’m the pilot. The Captain is currently, ah, indisposed of, but if you’ll give me your name and a message, I’ll be sure to pass that right on along to him, mister…?”
“That’s Captain Buckley of the AFEV Cruiser Infinite Darkness, Pilot, and you will call your Captain to the bridge at once,” Buckley orders. He puffs himself up as he issues the orders and Matt has to pinch himself to keep a straight face. “You and the crew of this vessel are hereby placed under arrest by order of the Academy of Flight and Extraterrestrial Vessels’ Terms of Space Byways Conduct, Subsection 232.I3.”
“Really, Captain Buckley. Captain Hurley isn’t able to come to the comm,” Matt says. “I’m his second, and I’m sure that between the two of us we can come to some sort of arrangement here.”
Buckley gestures to someone off screen and then the ship suddenly jerks to the side with a horrible squeal of twisting metal. Matt is very thankful for the fact that he hadn’t attempted to stand between dropping out of hyperspace and getting into a pissing contest with Captain Bad Attitude, because otherwise he’d be rolling around the bridge floor next to Patrick and Pete.
“Whoa! Ryan! Kyle! Andy! What the fuck?” Matt yelps all the same. Kyle’s voice comes over the comm at the same time Ryan starts talking damage reports, but Matt doesn’t really hear either of them, because Andy’s face appears on Matt’s screen. Matt hadn’t expected Andy to be smiling at him, but this isn’t Andy’s normal ‘I’m annoyed by your shenanigans and someone is going to hear about it’ face, either.
This is Andy’s ‘you’re fucking with me and my crew and I’m going to fuck you up but good’ face. Perfect. Just what they need is a homicidal ship with delusions of Space Piracy.
“Mixon, that tractive beam is trying to tear Deck Four right out of me,” Andy says. “I count that as a hostile action. You have approximately two minutes before I start blowing shit up.”
“Shit, chill, dude! I’m working on it,” Matt says. “No blowing things up, fuck.”
Buckley makes another sharp gesture, and the horrid screeching stops. “I trust you now understand that I am in no mood for games, Pilot. You will have your Captain report to the bridge immediately, or I will simply tear you apart in accordance to Sanction 546.7B.95. I will be lenient: you have thirty minutes.”
He makes another gesture and the main viewer screen goes black. The bridge is silent except for the blaring sensors.
“Ryan, shut those off, please, and can someone tell me just what the fuck happened?” Matt asks after a minute. He suddenly has a very large headache.
The sensors go quiet. “We totally can’t take another focused pull of that magnitude to the same section,” Ryan says. “I’ve reports of hull breeches all along the port side of Four, especially around the Infirmary. I really hope no one ends up needing surgery any time soon.”
“I’ve closed off the affected sections,” Kyle says over the shipwide. “The entire Medical Bay section is pretty much a lost cause right now - Ryan, I hope you still have that emergency med lab set up on Two, seriously - but thankfully we still have structural integrity. If we need to hyperjump, we can, but it’ll have to be short until Andy can manage repairs.”
“Which I’m already working on,” Andy snaps. He appears next to Matt chair, and he’s glaring at the blank view screen. “I’ll need at least four hours before the bots can get in there. And I can’t jump until that fucking beam is turned off or jammed.”
“Why can’t you send them in now?” Pete asks. He’s helped Patrick off the floor, and the two of them are hovering over Joe’s shoulders. “Wouldn’t that speed things up?”
“The hull is breeched, Wentz, which means that section is open to space,” Andy says. The damaged section appears in blueprint form on the bottom half of the main view screen. Above that is a real time image of a portion of the section and the space surrounding it. Bits and pieces of the hull and what Matt recognizes as the Infirmary beds are floating in the space between that section of Fuck City and drifting steadily towards the Infinite Darkness. At least Ryan will stop bitching about the slime stains now. “As long as the hull is open and that tractive beam is active, anything that isn’t bolted down becomes space trash.”
“Right.” Pete nods. “So what’s the plan then? Captain McGrumpyPants doesn’t seem like the type to just let us heal up and go.”
“We’re still in the Uncharted, right?” Joe asks. “I didn’t think the AFEV had jurisdiction out here?”
“Technically they don’t,” Stu agrees. He’s over at the Weapons station punching something in that Matt can’t exactly see. Not that Matt needs to see. There are a lot of reasons for why Stu is the weapons expert and Matt isn’t. “But those guys aren’t AFEV regulars - they’re bounty hunters, and most likely the only lawmen in this entire subsection of the territories. Their word is law, period. Most of them are decent enough, for Republic bootlickers, but no one is going to step up against them if there isn’t a profit in it.”
“Welcome to Pirate Territory,” Matt says. “The nice, touristy Pirates with the pet parrots are over on Planet Partyfunfundancetime, about two jumps that a way.” He gestures vaguely off to the starboard side of the ship. “The rest will take your ship and your pants sooner than look at you.”
“Right.” Joe nods. “So, what exactly is Sanction 546.7B.95?”
“Fuck, Joe, you have a computer right in front of you,” Patrick says. “Shut up and let them figure out how to get us out of this mess.”
“It’s probably faster to just to let us explain it,” Stu says. “Especially since Sanction 546.7B.95 just means that the bounty on Fuck City says Buckley can tear us to pieces so long as he delivers everything back to the Republic. The sanction isn’t really anything official or legal, not that bounty hunters or Republic agents really give a damn about official or legal.”
“There’s a bounty on the Ship? Put out by who?”
“The Republic, who else?” Andy says. “They’ve wanted their fucking hands on me for almost a hundred years, and they can’t take me unless a bounty hunter brings me in from the Uncharted - I’m technically a Republic Citizen within the Core.” His hologram goes fuzzy for a moment, and when it clears, Andy is wearing a standard issue Captain’s uniform.
“Snappy, dear,” Matt tells him. “But what the fuck are you doing?”
“Buckley wants to see the Captain,” Andy tells him. “I’m giving him the Captain.”
“Yeah, no,” Matt says. “I seriously doubt the Captain of a Ship called Fuck City is going to be wearing that. It’s hideous, dude.”
Andy rolls his eyes. His hologram goes fuzzy again, and then Andy is standing there in a pair of ratty jeans, old school Vans, and a t-shirt promoting the Death to the Republic movement that was forced underground thirty years before Matt was even born. “That better, honey?”
Matt cocks his head to the side and hums. This is totally his favorite hologram version of Andy. Even if he is wearing a shirt. Though the jeans don’t hide his ass like the shorts. “Yeah, I think that’ll work.”
“He wasn’t talking about your spank bank, dude,” Pete says. He leans over Patrick’s shoulder and leers at Andy. “Though I totally can’t blame you. Andy, Andy, those jeans are doing very wonderful things to your ass. You know, I’m totally sure that Patrick can come up with something to…”
Patrick slaps his hand over Pete’s mouth. “No. Whatever the fuck you were about to suggest, all the fucking no in the galaxies.” He sighs as Pete just gives him the puppy eyes and leans his head on Patrick’s shoulder. “Fucking hell, Wentz, you are a nuisance.”
“Right,” Matt says. He looks away from the Pete and Patrick Show to find Andy glaring at him. “What? You look fine, particularly in the ass area, and it is totally going to make Buckley flip his shit.”
“I’m watching you, Mixon,” Andy tells him before he turns back to the main viewer, which is calculating…something. Matt thinks it might be the frequency for the tractor beam, but for all he knows it could be the combination for the locked room behind the shuttle bay that always smells funny. “Kyle, how many maintenance bots do you have operational?”
“Um. Counting the four that we had stored in the Med Bay?” Kyle asks. “About ten. I’m working on two right now - ten minutes and they’re up and running - and I’ve already got most of the working ones doing prep work.”
“Good. I want you to prep Ultimatum for a decoy run,” Andy says.
“Deities wept, Andy! I just finished putting her together,” Kyle says. “Six months of work down the fucking toilet.”
“So you’ll build a new shuttle,” Andy says. “Ryan, did you ever finish that program?”
“Yes, Andy. In all my infinite time in the last three days, I have figured out a virus of that level,” Ryan says. He doesn’t turn away from his console but Matt can totally tell he’s rolling his eyes. He always does when people expect ‘miracles’ (Ryan’s words) from him. It also means that whatever type virus he’s talking about is mostly complete. “Patrick figured out your coding errors.”
“Good to hear,” Andy says. He’s totally not paying attention. “Stu…”
“Andy, you do realize that we’ve all done this shit before, right?” Stu asks. He glares over his shoulder at him. “Yes, I have everything on stand-by. Yes, they will be dead in the water. Yes, it will be a pretty, pretty boom. Now shut up and let me work.”
“What exactly are you planning?” Patrick asks.
Matt laughs. “Just you’re average, ordinary evading capture mission. No worries, we’ve got this down to a fucking science.” He kicks his feet up and leans his chair back as far as it’ll go. He’s not going to have anything to do until whatever scheme is being cooked up is served, so he’ll just stay out of the way and catch some sleep.
It really is too bad that Andy won’t let him keep any snacks on the bridge anymore. Popcorn would be fucking perfect right about now.
|-|
Buckley hails them exactly thirty minutes after he’d cut their previous transmission. Ryan, Patrick, Pete and Kyle are all down in the shuttle bay launching the Ultimatum with Andy’s special package. Joe is at Ryan’s station looking absolutely enraptured - Matt thinks he’s actually playing solitaire - and Stu has to throw a flattened pop can at his head to get his attention.
“Trohman! Open the channel already!” Stu says.
Joe clicks the Queen of Hearts onto the King of Clubs. “You do have a computer of your own, Ross,” he says, but he reaches out and hits the appropriate button. “Lazy, lazy, lazy.”
“I trust you have taken my warnings to heart,” Buckley says. He is the image of a bounty hunter now: smirking, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his stomach. “This must be Captain Hurley.”
Andy raises an eyebrow from his spot next to Matt’s chair. “Must I?”
Buckley nods to himself. “Yes, yes. Only the Captain of Fuck City would be so reckless in his choice of attire. You realize that there is the death penalty for any of those caught associating with the Death to the Republic movement, much less for actually wearing their propaganda. Is that vintage?”
Matt ducks his head down supposedly so he can brush his bangs off of his forehead, but mostly so he isn’t looking at the view screen when he rolls his eyes. Buckley is even more of a tool than appearances first indicated. Lame.
“For the penalty to have an effect, they have to catch you first,” Andy says. “And it is, of a fashion.”
Matt doesn't bother bringing his head up again. He's too busy trying not to laugh. Like deep, deep belly laughs that'll have Buckley throwing a snit and pulling the Ship apart one level at a time, starting with what's left of Four. That wouldn't be a good thing, especially since Andy would be sure to kill Matt before there was any chance of capture.
Still, by looking through his eyelashes, Matt sees the way Buckley looks thoughtful at Andy's nonchalance. Granted, Buckley probably thinks that Andy is some kind of kindred spirit, a rebel without a cause looking to subvert the Republic in the most public arena possible. Which is true, except the whole calm demeanor that Andy has at the moment? Is more Andy doing his best not to just start blowing holes in the Infinite Darkness. That's a completely viable option, except for how they'd probably take on too much damage to be able to hyperjump for a few days at least, and Buckley has to have someone waiting out in the darkness as backup.
That's Plan E.
"Interesting," Buckley murmurs. He tilts his head to the side. "Right, now I am sure that your crew has informed you of my demands. And you surely noticed the gaping hole in the side of your ship. It would be in your best interests to surrender now - that way I can tell the Republic that you didn't resist arrest. Voluntary compliance usually receives a lighter sentence."
"I wasn't aware there was a reason for this supposed warrant for my ship," Andy says. He's playing with Buckley now, as they wait for Kyle to send up the okay to Stu that the Ultimatum has reached its target area. Matt has to admit that Kyle and Ryan are geniuses when it comes to using Andy's particular brand of holograph technology - the Ultimatum won't even be visible to the Infinity Darkness until its packages have been delivered. "I have no intentions of turning my ship or my crew over to anyone. The Republic has no jurisdiction in the Uncharted, and we have received no paperwork indicating your right to hold us. Let me warn you, Buckley, I do not take kindly to those who would engage in piracy, especially piracy on the Republic's dime."
Buckley isn't smirking any longer. He isn't relaxing against his chair, either. "I do not take kindly to being called a liar myself, Hurley. Nor will I allow false accusations of piracy against my ship and crew."
Andy shrugs. "Your problem, not mine."
Stu waves his hand in the air, indicating that the Ultimatum is ready for its final orders. Andy nods back at him. "Now, Buckley, I'm afraid we will have to cut this short. I have a job that needs to be finished and nowhere do you fit into that job. And for fuck sake, would it be too hard for you to do a little research before you take on a job? Might save yourself a few headaches."
“And they’re away!” Stu throws his arms up in victory as his specially programmed missiles launch from the Ultimatum directly into the Infinite Darkness. “I fucking love my job.”
“What are you doing!” Buckley shouts. He starts to say something else, but the reception goes fuzzy for a moment as the missiles hit their intended targets - the shuttle bay and the engines. “You’ll pay for this!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Us and our little dog, too,” Andy says. “Honestly, you people never fucking change. One hundred and fifteen years of this shit and you always say the same damn thing. How about a little variety? Is that really too much to fucking ask?”
Buckley’s response is lost in a garbled shriek. Ryan’s and Patrick’s virus, released into the Infinite Darkness’s computer systems via the tractor beam and initiated with the first of the explosions, has basically eaten the entire communications system, leaving the bounty hunters stranded and dark. Ryan cuts of the comm and brings up the visual of small sections of the Infinite Darkness exploding.
“Oooh, pretty!” Joe says when a particular explosion turns purplish-pink. “Must have hit a lab.”
The ship lurches to the side suddenly. “Sweet, we’re free!”
“Yes! Nice shot, Stu,” Matt says as he brings up the coordinates he, Andy and Patrick had settled on after a good ten minutes of arguing. “Everyone strap in or hold on! We are leaving the party!”
Fuck, Mixon, just make the jump already. Andy snaps. And stop thinking about my ass!
|-|
They jump out of hyperspace only two systems over. Matt directs them behind a set of moons orbiting around the second planet from that particular systems sun. It is doubtful that the Infinite Darkness will be able to follow them anytime in the next six months, but if Buckley has anyone within three systems that he can call up, the radiation from the sun and the interference of not one, not two, but of three solar system bodies should keep them out of sight of anyone for as long as it takes Andy to finish fixing Level Four.
"We have about six hours, max, before someone comes looking for us," Ryan says. He'd made his way back up to the bridge in the twenty minutes it took Matt to jump them. "Seriously, Andy. We do not want to be here in six hours. Three hours would be better. Two the best."
Matt sits up, unbuckles himself and stretches as far forward as he can without standing up. He's pretty sure he'll fall flat on his face if he stands up right now without someone to lean on. He's also pretty sure that he if doesn't get some sleep right now or some food, he's not going to be able to make another jump and be able to guarantee the safety of this Ship and its crew. "What are you talking about?"
"The Infinite Darkness, or more specifically Captain Buckley, has strong ties to Barataria," Ryan says. "And before you ask how strong, well. You aren't going to like it."
"Am I the only one who doesn't know about this?" Matt asks.
"Well, you are the only one that wasn't reachable during the jump," Kyle points out. He's standing by the door, leaning against the wall. He startles Matt. One because Kyle never stands by the door - if anything he's lounging at what could be considered his station or over Ryan's or Stu's shoulders, whomever it would annoy the most. Two because Matt, if he had actually thought about it, which he honestly hadn't, he'd have expected Kyle to be in the maintenance bay or outside Level Four waiting for Andy's okay to go in to fix everything he could get his hands on.
"Andy could have passed along a message," Matt points out.
"Honestly, I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we'd prefer if you didn't have any distractions in the middle of a hyperjump, Matt," Kyle says.
Matt can't think of anything to counter that with. "You may have a point," he admits.
"I usually do," Kyle says.
"Anyway!" Ryan says. "Look, as I was saying, you aren't going to like this."
"Are you kidding me? Matt's going to love this!" Stu laughs. "This is hilarious, and it isn't like we haven't had enemies before."
"Stu, shut up," Ryan snaps. He rubs a hand over his face. "Look, Buckley is a decent relation to one of the Barataria Familys."
Matt blinks. "He's a Space Pirate?"
Ryan shrugs. "We don't honestly know, but the records weren't all that specific."
"So he's a Space Pirate," Matt repeats. "Royalty even."
"I don't think so," Ryan says. "Why the fuck would a Space Pirate, especially a member of the Familys, be working for the Republic?"
"He has a really nice ship," Kyle says.
"Dude, the Barataria Familys can afford ships almost as nice as Andy," Matt says. "They really don't need to work for the Republic for ships, especially for ships like the Infinite Darkness. That ship is okay but. Seriously. The Infinity Darkness?"
"Yes, the Infinity Darkness," Andy says. "What Ryan is trying to tell you, is that we may very well have Space Pirates to deal with within the next two to six hours."
Matt shrugs. "Because we've never had to deal with them before."
"Mixon," Andy starts.
"What? You need to go finish fixing yourself again, and I need to go eat something and possibly catch a nap," Matt says. He stands up and sways a little. Joe, who had just so happened to be next to his chair, pushes him back upright.
"Dude, food is good," Joe says. He slings an arm around Matt's shoulders. "I, for one, could also use some sustenance. How about we," he includes Patrick and Pete in his gesture, "all wander down to the mess with you and take care of that."
"What, we're not invited?" Stu asks, trying his best to sound hurt instead of amused. He isn't very successful.
"Don't you have work to do, oh, I don't know. Maybe making sure we aren't blown out of the sky by Space Pirates?" Patrick asks. He's grinning as he says it.
"Right," Matt says. "Food, then sleep, then getting the hell out of dodge."
"That's the plan," Andy says. His face appears on the main screen viewer. "Repairs are well under way, and we should be able to leave within two hours."
"Right, so coffee instead of a nap," Matt says. He rubs a hand over his face.
"We have new coordinates to jump to where you'll be able to sleep before we make Patrick's last jump," Ryan says.
|-|
They’re five hours into the last jump, and the skies are nothing but clear. Literally. There are none of the usual twists or turns to occupy Matt’s mind and, frankly, he’s fucking bored. There is seriously only so much of a single steel blue line shooting straight out into nothing that a person can take before the idea of loop-de-loops just starts to seem like a good plan.
Dude, I’m bored. Entertain me.
What? No. Just. Mixon, no. You do realize that I’m not some coin operated jack-in-the-box, right? Andy grumbles. He’s extra cranky this trip, and it makes Matt feel like there’s an itchy spot square between his shoulder blades. Which he can’t fucking scratch because the last thing they need is to drop out of hyperspace prematurely. Like, even less than normal. Concentrate on your flying; that is what you’re here for.
There any particular reason for your cranky pants tonight, dude, or is it just that part of the cycle? Matt twitches in his seat. He can tell that Andy is glaring at him - there is a hot epicenter to itchy spot now. No, seriously, Andy. You really aren’t this cranky normally.
Am I normally flying through what is clearly a distinct lack of anything? Andy snaps. No, I am not. So if I’m acting a little differently than normal perhaps you should keep in mind that this isn’t a normal situation and my normal reactions are not going to apply.
Matt shrugs. Okay. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still fucking bored. He lets the silence linger for a few minutes as he tries to list the number of ways that the hyperspace line doesn’t ever fucking change, yet how this jump it seems about a hundred times more brilliant.
And since that takes about two minutes, he thinks about the breach in the hull and how well it is holding up. Andy once told him that newly fixed sections are always a little more sensitive than the rest of him, and now Matt is wondering if his port side is feeling achy or itchy like new skin does in the cold. Which, of course, leads him to wondering just how a Ship is supposed to scratch at the itch if it actually is itchy.
Hey, dude…
Andy sighs. No, it doesn’t itch. Yes, the new hull is holding up. No, I wouldn’t ask you to scratch the itch if it did itch. No, that has no bearing on whether or not you are a good scratcher, but more on the fact that you are human and I’m a spaceship. Seriously, your hands are too fucking small.
Matt frowns. Am I really that predictable?
Yes. Andy snorts. Also, I can read your mind, Mixon. Hello.
Matt considers that for a second. Okay, I see your point. Hey, if you can read my mind, why can’t I read yours?
Of all the stupid fuck questions. He isn’t an idiot, why does he say shit like that, what the fuck? Andy’s thoughts come through really fucking clear all of a sudden and that leaves Matt, well, not blinking because he keeps his eyes shut so that he doesn’t accidentally lose his focus - safety first and all - but the fact that he can hear Andy’s thoughts like they were downloaded straight into his brain leaves Matt doing the mental equivalent of blinking.
Oh. Well, I guess that was pretty stupid of me. Because obviously if Matt focuses directly on Andy he’ll be able to hear his thoughts. Makes perfect sense. Wait, hey! How come I didn’t know that you and Joe were talking about me? Andy, dude! How could you keep something like that a secret from me?
I have no idea, Matt. Why the fuck would I tell you about a conversation I had with another being that isn’t any of your business? Andy snaps. There really are times when I’d like the ability to strangle you.
Yeah, yeah, sure. Whatever. Stop stonewalling and tell me what you were talking about.
No. How about you do your job and focus on piloting and not on gossip?
Matt thinks really, really hard about the unwaveringly straight line they’re following. Like, pointedly hard until Andy sighs and grumbles, Okay. You made your point.
Seriously, man. I’m going to start singing show tunes in a minute here. Matt warns. He even starts humming the theme song from the soundtrack Ryan had been listening to for days, turning on shipwide and driving everyone nuts. Last chance, man.
Andy breaks before Matt can even mouth the first syllable. Fuck, fine! You are such an asshole, Mixon.
Matt grins. Yeah, that’s right, dude. Sweet talk me.
Do you want to hear this or not? Andy demands. Matt pictures himself miming zipping his lips shut. He just asked me if I’d ever thought about not being a Ship.
What? Like if you were human or something?
Honestly, I have no idea what he was trying to get at. He also said something about it relating to having a family and not just ‘kindred spirits’ or what the fuck ever. Andy makes a sound that is suspiciously like a huff. Then he told me to lay off Patrick and Pete. Because they’re in love and the sex is good and Patrick is stressed and Pete is contrary.
How does any of that have anything to do with me? Because Matt has absolutely no opinion on the whole ‘Pete and Patrick fucking like crazy space bunnies’ other than stopping Andy from spacing them. Is Trohman trying to say that people can’t be family without being the same race? ‘Cause that’s fucked up.
I get the feeling that Joe was trying to imply something other than latent xenophobia.
What do you mean? Joe seems really cool about, well, everything.
I’m not saying that Joe is xenophobic, which would be pretty fucking stupid anyway. Patrick’s human, Joe and Pete are not. I’m not sure exactly what they are, but they aren't human.
Huh. I hadn’t noticed that. Matt ponders that for a moment, then shrugs it off. Hey, the light’s getting really fucking bright. We’re coming up early. Matt shifts and prepares himself for the drop out of hyperspace.
Patrick will be happy. Andy says. He sounds a little distracted, and it takes Matt a minute to realize that it’s because Andy’s talking to someone outside of the Trance, probably Patrick. Matt always forgets that Andy is Fuck City and the Ship still needs to be able to connect with the rest of himself to function properly; Matt’s the one that has to stay completely focused on maintaining the line. Patrick and Kyle have that probe ready for when we drop out. You set?
Always. Matt stretches his mind out for the bright spot, and feels Andy right beside him. Just before they reach it, Matt mutters, Don’t think our conversation is over with just yet, Andy.
Too which Andy laughs. You’re a dog with a bone, Matt. Like I’d ever forget that.
And then they reach the light. Together they grasp and pull, leaving hyperspace like it’s easier than breathing.
|-|
Part II - Part IV