Considering the violence that'd led them to this point in time, the transit to Trafalgar passed remarkably peacefully. There wasn't any cardi on the Spatial yet and Ren had reset the transponder, so they passed the BAF and BPA patrols with little difficulty. Bounty hunters in the area didn't yet know they needed to look for a Spatial, so there wasn't any hindrence from that quarter, either. Katash slept quiety in the copilot's chair while Ren guided the rust-colored craft to their destination, giving her time in quiet contemplation.
We've come a long way, haven't we? she silently asked her companion's sleeping form. From a couple of kids chasing criminals to this. I know my junker family wouldn't much like you at first - institutional dislike for bounty hunters and all that - but I know you'd grow on them. Just like you've grown on me. Her mind flashed back to their original meeting, and a wry smile briefly spread across her face. And to think, it all started because I was greedy and wanted your ship.
She glanced at the ship's clock, just to see if they were making good time, when another thought struck her. We've been living together for more than two years now! Hard to believe, time's flown by so quickly...and we've been in space probably about half of that. And even in spite of this...what just happened...I wouldn't trade the last two and a half years for any amount of solo scrap collecting, fleet of CSVs, or anything else. Flitting all over known - and unknown! space with a hopelessly idealistic nutjob? Never gets boring, that's for sure. We'll find this baddie, hunt him down, and...and then we'll just go from there. It's what we've always done. One thing at a time.
* * * * *
A few hours later, in Trafalgar's bar
As with most Junker stations, Trafalgar's bar was where most of the real business took place. Informal, not written, yet as binding as any contract. Sure, things moved about in the cargo areas, and numbers were recorded elsewhere, and armaments got loaded in the hangar, but the bar was where the people were. Where pirates, smugglers, and other assorted folk congregated in devotion not to the fermented beverage that flowed so freely from the taps, but to money and information. Except for a few passing travelers like Katashi & Ren, virtually everybody present was there to acquire information or exchange goods for money, or some combination of the three. These transactions went generally unnoticed by the pair, who'd found a quiet table against the wall opposite the windows to discuss their own plans.
Ren had actually left Katashi there for nearly an hour while she saw to the ship's restocking (and replacing those Gaian weapons which the police had somehow not noticed in their scans) and checked on a hunch. She was all smile when she returned, sliding into her seat with an impish grin familiar to the pilot. "What's up?"
"So I checked the bounty boards," she began, "Because of something I remembered from when we were hunters. BHG members can't fulfill unlawful bounty contracts...and apparently, word got out that the bounty on us was posted by a Corsair by proxy. We still have to worry about others...and avoid the BHG, because they'll still want to kill us. But at least now we know they won't be actively hunting us."
"Well, that IS good news. Doesn't solve the problem of how we're gonna go about chasing this guy, though...and how we're gonna make sure we keep cardi on hand."
"Problem solved. I got us a couple of breathers like the Outcasts use on allied stations, and special cardi air scrubbers that infuse the air with it. Not a lot - not enough to be caught on cargo scans - but enough to keep us going for a few weeks by itself. Plenty of time to reach a place where we can get a more concentrated dose - it might help a bit."
"There is another problem, too, though...sort of a quandary we're in, don't you think? The Outcasts want to get all of Sirius addicted. They're a nasty bunch, trying to get as many pirate factions as possible dependent on them while simultaneously getting the houses addicted and dependent on them for survival...so they can bleed them dry. And yet, because now we are addicted, we have a vested interest. If they fall and the cardi fields get burned by Corsairs or whatever, we die, along with many thousands of other addicts."
"Yeah, I know. No cure for the addiction. Also, sounds like the painkillers are wearing off, you're being all rational again."
"Thing is," Katashi continued, "I don't really want to work with them. I don't like them. But the junkers probably wouldn't much like us hunting Corsairs under their flag, none of the smaller pirate groups have the sort of reach we need for our hunt, and nobody else will take us due to our little problem."
"Okay. So we have to become Outcasts."
"That's how I see it. What do you think?"
"...what do you mean? You're the one with the plan."
The pilot leaned forward and lowered his voice. "This is a plan that'll affect our lives. We're already on cardi, but tossing our lot with the Outcasts is a big step towards becoming something we both agreed we didn't want to. I'm not gonna take that step unless I know you're with me, 100%. I won't leave you behind, and I won't push you ahead. If you're not cool with it, we'll find another way. We could become mercs or freelancers. We'd be working alone with our own tiny network of contacts, so it'd be slower and we'd have to be more careful with our more limited resources, but we could do it." He leaned back again, and finished in a more normal tone. "It's your call, Ren."
The gunner's bewilderment was reflected in her voice when she answered. "What's the mystery? I trust your judgement...usually...and when I don't, have I ever hesitated to say so? As different as we are, our minds tend to run parallel - I'd already figured out we'd have to go to the Outcasts to stand a realistic chance of hunting this guy down. Besides, like I told you, I used to hold up Rhinos in my CSV. Have any hacker friends?"
Katashi had to stifle a grin. And that's Ren. 'What's the fuss? There's work to do!' "Yeah. I'm hoping he'll remember us specifically not trying to hunt him down and kill him while we were BHG."
* * * * *
It took no small amount of sweet-talking and bribes with what little money the two had left, but after a few days a lone Dagger finally docked, disgorging a tall, pale, weasely-looking man. His hair was disheveled, and if Ren looked like a caged animal in a crowd, he looked like he'd just been bitten. In the bar, they told him their story - and his reaction was immediate.
"And you took the Spatial? Do you guys WANT to die?! The dinner was a ruse, what makes you think the ship isn't, too? What'd stop him or her from planting a tracking beacon or recording device in all that survey gear? Any hacker worth his code knows the Spatial is one of the easiest ships in Sirius to bug because there's so many ways to hide it! You gotta ditch that ship, and fast."
Ren and Katashi shared a look. "Yeah, and we're okay too, thanks for asking," the latter dryly added.
The hacker sighed, and put his palm to his forehead. "Guys, you're doin' this all wrong. Ditch the ship. Now. Then fly to Orkney, there's an Outcast base there. They'll probably tell ya to do something stupid to earn their trust - do it. They do it to everybody, even their own. Then they'll probably help you, because you're addicts and you wanna kill Corsairs. And Ren's a junker. They like junkers. But you have...to...ditch...the..ship. Get a Kingfisher. Looks like an Outcast fighter, but it isn't. Much cheaper than a Sabre and not as good, but still a decent ship. There's some two-seat long-range versions out there - you can probably snag one at Rochester, they import 'em from Manhattan. Or get a Starblazer from the Hood, I don't care."
"Alright, alright. We get it. Lose the Spatial." Damn. I like the Spatial... "Can you hack our rep so the Outcasts will at least let us land?"
"Yeah, but only 'cuz I like you. And your girlfriend's cute. Don't worry," he put his hands up in mock defense, "Not my type. Here's my contact info and secure comm access. Use it if you need anything tech-related...always wanted to hack a Corsair, but they don't come 'round Liberty much." He put a small memory chip on the table, and pushed it across between the two. "Now, get outta here. You might be safe-ish from the BHG, but not from freelancers, mercs, or Gaians." He nodded his head in farewell, and without waiting for another word, shot to his feet and walked briskly back in the direction of the hangar.
