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Business as usual. Tara wound her way through the tables of the bar, deftly balancing a tray of drinks as she dodged grabbing hands and falling drunks. A shiver ran through her occasionally- the short shorts and sleeveless low-necked shirt the manager insisted she wear didn't provide much in the way of warmth.
A round of good-natured cheers greeted her appearance at a table in the back. Summoning up a bright smile, she distributed the liquor amongst the ship's crew seated there. One of them, a tall (and rakishly handsome, she admitted) man paid the tab, closing her hand over a few extra giros for herself. Tara started to turn away, only to pause and listen as he returned to his conversation, and his words snatched her attention.
"... cruiser came out of nowhere and fired a shot across our bow, yelling for us to heave to and prepare to be boarded. Like I'm about to do that with a hold full of hijacked cargo, right?"
Derisive laughter greeted the sarcastic question, and he let it die down before continuing the story. "She had her shields up, but I don't think she was expecting us to fire. They weren't even done with all the fancy phrases before we laid plasma into her and ducked around an asteroid."
One of his companions cut in with a snort. "Obviously they weren't all that bright, if you're sitting here now."
"Well now, I wouldn't say that, exactly. She chased us for quite a bit. Thank the gods for asteroid belts. That's the only thing that saved us. We finally managed to shake her and get to a hidey hole. Took days to repair the cannon blasts in Simeon's hull, and I lost two of my less gutsy crewmembers. And of course, I lost the ship we'd waylaid." The pirate paused to take a drink, his expression somewhat annoyed at the memory.
The woman opposite him scoffed. "Why didn't you just go back later?"
The man shook his head disgustedly. "We did. Got ambushed again, by two of 'em that time and a squadron of fighters. Barely got away with my hull intact. Rather preferring to stay in one piece and flying free, I've avoided the Pagian system ever since, and that was over a year ago."
A swift intake of breath drew his attention, and he frowned over at Tara. "Don't you have work to do?"
Face burning, she nodded, turning away again. Later she'd thank whatever instinct urged her to whirl back and blurt, "I know how to get through the Pagian defenses."
Silence settled over the table as they stared at her. After a moment the pirate, voice dripping with condescension, intoned, "Do tell, girlie."
Sensing opportunity, Tara grabbed a napkin and rapidly began sketching the system in question. "The Pagia base is brand new. Well, it was a year ago. AF built it to respond to the plethora of pirate activity in the area, imagine that." Her voice was too smooth for anyone to take offense. "Now, the base itself is situated in a false asteroid. It was a rather massive project. That's how the ships can appear to come out of nowhere. Unless you've got inside information, you'd never know it was there, or be able to find it... or thwart it."
Eyeing the precise dimensions of the drawing, the pirate said slowly, "And you've got this inside information?"
Tara shrugged modestly. "Just so happens I do." She glanced up at the man, and she noted quietly, "Information, however, usually comes with a price."
He ignored that for the moment, drumming his fingers thoughtfully on the table. "How does a waitress in a fourth-rate bar know all this?"
Tara's grin was rather smug. "That was the Castillo Simeon you were flying that day, wasn't it?"
Now that definitely set off the alarm bells for the pirate. "Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Because I was navigator on the cruiser chasing you."
Jaws dropped. One man choked on his drink, and his neighbor helpfully thumped him on the back. Another gazed at the disgraced ex-officer thoughtfully. The pirate stared at Tara, his eyes narrowing. When he finally spoke, his voice was dangerously quiet. "You're AF?"
She shook her head quickly, her tone disdainful. "Not anymore. The AF and I had a disagreement of sorts. Suffice it to say I'm no longer welcome amongst their august ranks."
Quiet reigned for a moment as those at the table weighed this information. Finally the pirate noted, "And I'm supposed to just take your word for this?"
The muzzle of a laspistol gently touched Tara's side beneath the table, and she paled. "Not sure how I can prove it to you. I don't even have my discharge papers anymore." Those had been left at that hotel two weeks before.
The quietly thoughtful one gave the pirate an amused glance. "C'mon, Harry, AF agents don't give out strategic information on their bases just to catch a few tramps."
The pirate gestured irritably. "Yeah, yeah." He leaned forward to tap the besketched napkin. "Make it good, girl."
Tara didn't hesitate to jot down the coordinates for locating the false asteroid, though she felt a twinge as her AF oaths rang in her mind. "You've got to come in on a precise parabolic course, like so." A few of those watching, presumably pilots, angled for a better view as numbers spilled from her pen. "The sensor buoys are good, but they've got a very narrow, jagged blind spot. Once you get through that, they assume you're supposed to be there, see, so you'll go unchallenged. There's just too much traffic inside the belt for 'em to check everything, so they don't. If you're taking out a ship, it won't take 'em long to respond to a distress signal, but if you work fast, you can tow a ship into the belt and loot it at your leisure. If you're just smuggling, the hard part's already over." She took a deep breath and looked up to catch reactions.
Harry's eyes flickered toward one of the pilots, who was slowly nodding. "The numbers jive, boss," she muttered. He inclined his head in acknowledgement, and turned his gaze back to Tara. "Alright." He swiped a card through the credit slot on the table. Tara's wristunit beeped in response, and she looked down at it automatically. "A hundred?" she squawked in protest. "That's it? You've got to be kidding!"
The pirate smiled grimly. "A hundred, and your life." The pistol poked Tara again, painfully. Swallowing her disappointment hard, she took a deliberate step back, agreeing with a faint, "Deal." Ignoring the laughter that arose behind her, she turned and stumbled away. By the time she reached the bar, her anger, never easily controlled, had flared. When the manager grabbed her arm with demands to know why she'd been delayed, she wrenched away from him. "I'm sick," she blurted. "I'm taking the rest of the night off." Not waiting for an answer, the waitress- ex-waitress, he informed her peevishly- stalked out.
Stepping out into the sulfur-heavy air, Valentine took a deep breath and slumped back against the side of the building. "Great. Just wonderful." A hundred credits and change wasn't going to take her very far, but she decided to wait until tomorrow to seek another job. She glanced up the street... and jumped as fingers touched her shoulder. Tara blinked- it was the man who'd defended her against the pirate. "What do you want?" she sighed.
He gave her a grin. "A navigator, for one thing."
"Huh?" Tara gave him a look of extreme confusion, fighting down the hope rising in her.
The man laughed, bowing mockingly. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name's Dyce, Ed Dyce. I'm Captain of the Rainbow's End. I've been putting off getting rid of that drunken sot I call a navigator for lack of a decent replacement. I think you," he reached out to tweak at Tara's nose, "Will do nicely. Whatta you say? Think you're up to flying a real ship?"
Oh, to fly again! Valentine was unable to suppress her joy at the thought, and Dyce grinned sympathetically. "What's your name anyhow, woman? I can give you a day to think about it, look you up tomorrow night?"
Tara quickly shook her head. "Tara Valentine. Quite pleased to make your acquaintance, and I don't have to think about it. You've got yourself a navigator, sir."