The Hunters by JA Bard

Chapter 2

From experience Diana knew that would be the last official visit. Clothing came off, pockets emptied, and draped in the cleaning cabinet. She also made sure she would not be getting any surprise visits. A screamer was placed in the living room. It was better than a family guard dog as it could not be influenced or side tracked, and it had a deadly aim on all known species should a visit turn into something more dangerous. Its primary defense was to warn, then immobilize and or neutralize any threat, using deadly force as a last resort. The best part was it didn't need to be exercised, entertained or taken on potty breaks.

While the bathtub filled she reviewed the cabin's amenities from the stateroom's workstation. Owners' cabins had many luxuries and Diana knew had secrets not always listed in the ship's computer. From her prior study she knew the ex-military ship had been remodeled with four minor officers' quarters and two supply cubbies being morphed into the traditional owner's stateroom. She hoped she would get a chance to experience a good portion of the amenities before she left. Her lips curled up into a smirk at her cleverness of planning this hitch down to the exact time Ati was directed to cross paths with the Wesley, half-way into third shift when not the most reliable crewmembers were in charge. Her cabin was more than a bargain, considering her quarters were better than the captains and at half the price of a small two crew closet.

As auntie used to say, she thought, "Riches are like natural biowaste which stink in a heap, but spread around makes the ground fruitful."

After a visit to the head and a shower, her bath was ready. Peering at the selection of herbal salts in the cabinet she skipped that. Wearing anything that had perfume or a scent was best left for seductions. Another role for another time, perhaps, she mused.

Pausing to stare at her reflection in the mirror, her lips moved into a sneer. It changed her appearance to someone not to be meddled with. This was no vain observation for many had parted out of her way in fear if not respect when she wore that expression. For another moment she took pleasure in studying her body tats that were scenes from a mythical story of Diana, the huntress goddess. Every mortleige had her or his patron tattooed on their body. It reflected the wearers' prowess in the business. Diana was seldom studied and was invisible to many, making her a good huntress. That was why she picked her and adopted her name. Diana loved the hunt. Not all hunters could find their mark if their prey was determined to remove all vestiges of his or her previous life, but Diana was exceptional in that all her contracts were fulfilled within a reasonable time. No one had yet to disappear from her sight.

Her colorful thighs disappeared under the bubbling surface and then her tattooed shoulders. All that was above the water was her head, devoid of any markings. Unlike some mortleiges she did not want to be recognized immediately since she liked the advantage of surprise and invisibility.

Sighing in bliss she kept her thoughts on her relaxing soak. Thirty minutes later a soft ding roused her. Rising she made quick drying herself off then changed into sleep attire that could be morphed into public wear if need be. Onto the large bed she dropped herself, feeling the spring as it gently cradled her. It was larger than she was used to. She laughed as she bounced some more on the surface. It had a lot more spring than what she was used to. She turned to the console and keyed in a different firmness. If she were not so tired she would have moved to sleep on the couch for the sake of familiarity.
* * *

Captain O'Rourke returned to her quarters and fixed a strong beverage, as strong as she dared this early in the morning. She didn't like running on wired nerves for the day but something to clear her thoughts would be nice. At her console she caught up on her morning reports and then tapped out orders for her crew. She also requested additional information on Diana Rue. That done she settled on her couch, crossing her legs under her. Thoughtfully she took a sip of her drink, grimacing when it hit her empty stomach. The stimulant would soon have her buzzing with energy. In her mind she went over what could bring a mortleige to her ship. Was she just hitching a ride and used Hebron's destination to throw her?

O'Rourke stared at her drink for a long moment, emptying her mind of thoughts so to look at things from a different perspective.

How did she know Diana Rue was a mortleige? It's not like she knew any personally. And why was that, she thought sardonically. She certainly got to know people that didn't blink an eye at performing acts as brutal as the groups they were infiltrating.

For a few moments she let a bit of her past remind her that falling in love didn't protect her from being sucked up in the callousness for life, losing her inner balance of right and wrong. Blinded, swinging a two edged sword before her, believing the adage that the gods would separate out the good and bad, and her job was to make sure there was no chance of the enemy getting away. That's what happened when one falls in love with an extremist. You get carried away in your lover's passion which spills out in every interest you pursue, and you get burned. She felt lucky that the heat burned away her innocence and left her with enough sense to know how to use the experience to better her lot in life. So many lives were lost or ruined from that learning episode. Since the damage was not on their side her CO had not added it to the debriefing recording. Lucky her.

Saddened, O'Rourke's eyes wandered to the picture on her bulkhead of a ship as it battled its way out of an ambush. The past needed to be left in the past. She had an assassin on board, or maybe not. Her brows furrowed as if that would help to refocus.

Who aboard her ship would warrant a contract on them? None were worth anything as expensive as a mortleige. They were just an insignificant group in the bigger picture. Maybe she was reading too much into Vicky's warning. Maybe she was reading too much from this Diana Rue. She was someone of importance because she walked the walk and it was not from swagger or putting on a tough act. O'Rourke sipped her drink thoughtfully. After more minutes ticked away she decided with finality that if Dana Rue was an assassin, it was not for any of her crew.

O'Rourke shook her head ruefully, snorting softly at the warning her more cautious side gave her. Getting involved in other peoples business had its consequences, especially when not invited. So, she was going to stay out of Diana's business if it did not interfere with the running of her ship.

Ding.

"Admit." As she suspected, Commander Jade, stood outside her door. "Just don't stand there, Vicky. Come in." O'Rourke remained seated.

"Someone bothering you, O'Rourke? Can it be one of our passengers?" Jade taunted her friend.

"All of them. Too many passengers this run, and too many that like to wander that the security bots are having a problem with curtailing. Have a drink?"

Jade sniffed the air that was filled with the warm beverage O'Rourke was drinking. "Not what you're having. Too strong for me." Jade dropped into the chair next to the couch the captain had taken over. Normally the chair was across from the couch but parts from a robot were neatly lain out in that spot. Her face split into a grin at the sight of the bot torn apart.

"The butler is out of commission. You know where everything is. Help yourself."

"You waited for me to sit down purposely, O'Rourke," she accused. Getting up she made her way to the kiosk, careful not to step on a part that had become separated from the others. She leaned down to pick it up.

"Leave it," O'Rourke told her. "That's a problem piece." Extending her legs a hassock slid out so she could rest her feet. "So what did you find?"

Jade turned from the kiosk where her hot chocolate was being whipped into a cup. "You want an early report, huh?"

"Why else are you here?"

Jade gave her a wry look. "It could be because I want to compare notes on our most recent passenger."

"My ship first, crew next and then passengers," O'Rourke said.

"Aye, aye, Captain," she grinned. "I found each deck's security logmsgs had unexplained anomalies and it wasn't on any of the crew's daily logs. If I didn't have this thing about cross checking I wouldn't have found the differences."

"When did they start?"

"Still checking for that. In my search for a physical explanation I found an unexplained chip in the security kiosk system board on deck 3C. I dropped it off with the Geek to check out."

"Just what kind of chip is it?"

"I've never seen that design before. It was big enough to fit on the tip of my little finger. Didn't come alive on any of the signals I sent to it."

"Sometimes the obvious is there to hide something else."

"I thought of that myself."

"Do you have an idea when it could have been planted?"

"No. My security team doesn't monitor the physical maintenance of the security kiosks, only the programming. Is there a reason for that decision?"

"Damage control when LeMarks did a short stint in security. I assigned it over to Sousa's group. I wanted to make sure he couldn't do any harm to ship or crew. Do you want it back?"

"Yes, but let me arrange with Sousa a training arrangement. Juno and Lelands are savy with boards but not with the depth I would like in a security agent. Then I'll start the training of the others so they have a working knowledge of what should be there."

"I presume you're looking into the maintenance logs to see who has been servicing it?"

Jade nodded.

"I know these are obvious questions, but I'm still getting used to the idea that I have a competent officer I can rely on."

Jade snorted in her hot chocolate and there was silence for a moment as they both went over the travesty of officers HQ had been dumping on O'Rourke.

"I've added a note to my staff that they're to keep daily diaries and copy to their shift reports what is out of the ordinary or what the next shift should know about." She didn't add that that was what they should have been doing all along, but she was expecting them to be in worse condition after LeMarks was the officer in charge.

"So, this new passenger, why are you flagging her?" O'Rourke asked.

"Not the usual passenger we pick up. Female and traveling alone, though I don't think she has much to worry about."

"Nothing really solid there, Vicky."

"But you don't disagree with my suspicion that she bears watching."

"We have fifty-six passengers that bear watching because I don't like the idea that while my crew is working, civilians can roam the ship at will."

Jade nodded, looking uncomfortable. "It's a gamble freighter's take when bringing on passengers to augment their usual business."

"What I want now is an end to this scattering the passengers about the ship wherever a crew member wants to earn a bonus. That idea leaves us too vulnerable. Let's move all passengers to deck four and then find the reason why the security bots are not securing the decks."

"We've been working on it since I became aware of it, but as soon as I can safely say rule this cause out, something pops up that has previous work worthless. About the passengers, you don't want to isolate them back to three?"

"Not enough space for restricting their movements. Deck four is more expansive and has a large entertainment center to keep them occupied. In the future, we won't be offering corporation suites in our spare officers' cabins. Move the ensigns and CPOs, if necessary to deck 2 but all passengers will be assigned to 4. When we dock for maintenance, I want 4 to be setup for isolation and gratuitous access so at least they won't revolt from boredome. All cabin consoles on 4 will we isolated from ships systems and…" She caught Vickie's expression. "Alight, so you know the drill. Look into the cost, will you? Everything up to date. Drag Henison in the planning if he has a spare moment before we get to dry dock."

"I'll get security on it before I get to bed."

"I've also decided that only two people will be booking passengers…you, as head of ship's security and I."

Jade nodded with a big grin.

"Have you done an inspection of deck eight yet?"

"I dispatched Gloin and Burlin to check it out. They didn't see anything more than the security system is disabled. A short, they said. I put an order in for the repair team but Cathy Sousa's team is busy on deck 1 where she believes the source of the chronic alarm failures are. Do you think the anomalies and security robotic lapses have anything to do with our overdue shipyard maintenance?" Jade asked.

"Maybe," O'Rourke hedged. "I'm hoping the Geek will have his search results by the next staff meeting. I can't believe that all these failings are from warrantees running out."

"Well, I'm beginning to fall asleep here. I'll take a look at deck 8 before I get some sleeptime." She studied O'Rourke for a moment and asked, "Want to join me?"

O'Rourke caught her smirk. "You think I'm not up to an old fashioned inspection, hey?" She set her glass down and gestured to her ensuite. "Let's do it. Henison picked up two latest models of armor at our last stop. He said you asked him to keep his eyes open since our security staff has outdated equipment. We'll give them a try and see if they're worth refitting the crew with."

She tapped the code in for the private entrance to the workout area to open.

"I know you don't like me saying this, but he really has been getting some great deals on supplies that I know would make any supply chief drool."

"Now why would I not like to hear that?"

"Well." Jade frantically thought of something neutral to say and wasn't able to think what.

"That's one of his jobs. Like all the other jobs he does, and he's good at them all. Lucky us. Leave it at that. He's balanced out what brainless twits HQ's been dumping on me."

"I've been meaning to ask, but didn't want to overstep my position…"

"But?" O'Rourke stopped before the lockers and studied her friend, daring her to say what she really meant. She hated it when those she most trusted could not be honest with her. She was not a sensitive person so taking offense to another's personal opinion on how she ran her life was not likely to happen.

"Now that I'm head of security among other things, I understood the protocol of new hires was I look over their list of possible new crew members and then hand over to you my recommendations, which you can accept or reject. But not this dumping on our deck without a review."

"Those are the rules on all merchant ships no matter the company. When LeMarks was security, I have no idea what he was doing. Getting any report from his section was more like asking his assistant to take notes. I was about to dismiss him when he was promoted. I informed HQ in writing that it was not a permanent post for LeMarks because I did not consider him qualified and I was challenging his promotion with the Merchant Marine Board. I could say we've been arguing that point but getting replies back from them is in the form of removing one pain in the butt and replacing it with someone worse. I removed Hudson and they promoted LeMarks. I removed Gallway and received Jua. The three I had hauled off by the police but that leaves me short and too busy writing reports of why this person or that is unqualified. My new move is to not allow another one of their transfers aboard."

"What's in this game for them?" Jade asked.

"Maybe they want Wesley."

"Who would they replace you with?"

"I'm thinking, they want the Wesley dry docked permanently." She tapped her nose. "Something is happening in this part of space and it's not peace and happiness type."

"I'll send some of my people to the docks to listen up on the scuttle butt. If something is off that's where we'll hear about it. By the way, what's Henison doing up here so much?" Jade asked.

"Fixing the EP. He says someone keeps changing the settings. Another unexplained anomaly."

O'Rourke tapped the security button, blinked before the iris scan, then stepped back as the security locker opened. O'Rourke stepped in and lifted a new suit from its rack. She handed it to Jade.

"A Rith. This is nice." Jade quickly striped out of her uniform and from her own locker pulled out an undertunic. "If this is stolen I don't even want to hear about it."

"I told him I don't want to buy stolen goods. If he is I'm sticking him in the brig."

"Come on, O'Rourke, where else would he be getting this top of line stuff for a good price?"

"Trust me when I say, there are other ways to get good equipment without it being illegal."

"If you say so," Jade teased. Jade hummed with approval at the perfect fit. "The team is going to like these. Rith is one of the best. Nothing like the Turtle."

O'Rourke grimaced. "I can't see why people still buy them. They're too susceptible to malfunctions."

"Because dressed up in that shell you look scary, it has a lot of gimmicks, even if they don't always work, and beginners don't know better," Jade said. Jade snapped the boot catch and stomped to make sure her boot would clamp to the deck, then released it.

"So, now that we're dressed. Let's rumble through the corridors and cause trouble." O'Rourke slapped Jade's armored shoulder.

"Right."

* * *

After an hour in dream time Diana awoke from the unfamiliar rhythms of the ship. Staring at the ceiling for five minutes with no inclination to sleep she decided it was a waste of time to try when her mind was wondering on too many issues about the Wesley, it's passengers, and crew. What were six Carrion masquerading as adolescent Comatian up to? There was no mistaking a Carrion. No matter what they used to hide their species her hyped senses could see, smell and hear around disguises, but so would an up-to-date security scan.

Why the Wesley did not have the most up to date working security had her also curious. Captain O'Rourke's reputation alone would have most trouble makers fearful to trifle with the Wesley's business, but there was always someone that would see that as a challenge. The Wesley was profitable under Captain O'Rourke leadership, mostly having to do with she had no competition in one of her services, small ship repair in space. So whoever was undermining O'Rourke was doing it for personal reasons. Her father's family? Why?

She rolled out of the large bed with the need to move. Her choice of clothing was tempra that changed color, blending in with the environment. She carefully selected what she would take with her, tools that would gather information her senses could not. It was not as if she was doing something illegal or unexpected. What passenger would not want to take a look around the ship they were going to be spending some time on? A quick look at deck 8 while she was at it was foremost in her mind. Carrion had a distinct smell that sensitive noses could pick up, no matter what chemical they used to mask it. She wanted to know what the Carrion were interested in.

Pushing on the panel it opened to a small closet; giving her the impression the owner, Osmona, was not the one intended to use this entrance. When the door closed the four walls went transparent.

She glanced behind her into the owner's ensuite and made a mental note not to walk around scantly clad. The second exit was to the outside corridor. The other exit was to a large closet where there were neatly racked weights at the far end of the room and lockers lined up against the nearby walls. It was the exercise room the security team and captain used. Since the ship didn't have that many officers after the last staff cut she was sure complaints at giving up a private workout room was nearly nil to the captains ears.

The exercise room separated the captain's quarters from the owner's.

The third exit was to a maintenance tunnel. Pushing gently on a button the panel slid smoothly aside. Diana paused. Ship smells of lubricants, metals, and warmed sealant were identified. There were no lights on and not wanting to activate anything that would alert anyone of her presence she armed her NPD, No Presence Detected. Stepping forward she held her sensor in front of her looking for bioforms, bots or active monitors. Nothing living had been in the tunnel for days, nor were there working monitors or bots.

The tunnel looked like any other maintenance tunnel: cabling running along the sides with junction boxes spaced at regular intervals. Above were monitors, fire and
chemical squelchers and an invader immobilizer. There were no interesting entrances similar to the one in the owner's suite along the tunnel.

She took a grav tube down to the next level.

This was where the majority of the hydroponics plants were located, though not all. Still using the maintenance tunnel as passage she found the monitoring equipment here inactive as on the second deck. She paused at the entrance into the hydroponics area with the usual species warnings posted near the entry pad and the bioscan just incase one of the warned species didn't read. Cautiously, she stepped into the wider section of the tunnel that allowed for heavy gear from the phonics area to be dismantled and worked on without having to carry the parts for long distances. Her eyes verified what her device detected; the security monitors for this area were deactivated also. She studied the coverage and wondered what happened around here that warranted secrecy and by whom.

This was not like the Captain Helen O'Rourke she studied. Was she baiting someone? Her idle curiosity about the ship moved to a more active interest.

The ship didn't feel right to her, and this feeling was only from less than an hour of looking. A mediocre trip just may be something more. She continued on with her recon mission, letting her instruments and body gather information which she would review later. The tunnel abruptly became smaller, designed more for repairbots but enough room should a living mechanic need to travel along, a short one that is, and Diana was not little so it was a squeeze for her.

She dropped down the grav tube, her hand sliding along the drop bar which with a squeeze stopped her fall just above junction 8. Verifying no one was present she then swung onto the deck. From her previous study of the ships diagrams the corridor she was now in would take her past the ammunitions depot, supposedly one of the most protected parts of a ship, a scattering of crew quarters and four cargo bays. 8A was where the damaged and returned goods of the ship's various customers were stored. That meant, deck 8 should be the most scrutinized deck next to the captains, Diana reasoned.

Returned goods were a hot commodity for a crew, and she was sure the once weapons storage was now a very large safe deposit box for things not trusted in the cargo bays. At the various space stops people looking for cheap deals would bargain for the damaged goods, either to resell or for their own use. Some of the most expensive articles like weapons, toys, vehicles, or yachts could be repaired by a clever person. They were not worth the cost of hauling it back to the dealer to be fixed. Ideally, the freight company's owners encouraged their captains to sell the goods for their customers so they would not incur the cost of the return. The customer wrote if off as a loss. The return fees would have been in bad business taste, since everyone knew it didn't have to be returned. Every captain had their own way of figuring out what was the lowest price to charge and it was not unheard of for captains to be silent business partners of some of the bidders. It was unlawful for the ships crew to fix or repair any of the goods before reselling it, since it would then appear that they had damaged the freight to collect the sale price.

Diana was curious what items were held back that the Carrion would be interested in or maybe it was something else on deck 8.

Leaning against the bulkhead Diana's eyes studied the corridor. Getting by the security bots, even if they were engaged, was not something she worried about. An energy wave displaced her image and as long as she stuck close to the bulkhead or dark spaces even the slight ripple from her presence would not be noticed.

She sniffed the air, picking out the faint scent of Carrion. The maintenance hatch was what she was heading for. It was not that she disliked going down the corridor and through the front hatch entrance. The maintenance tunnel was where she suspected all the action would be if there was anything illegal going on. It took six minutes for her to get past the lock to the maintenance tunnel. This was something she did for a living, and by the amount of time it took for her to get in, she rated the ship's security above average. Something on the ship was what she expected.

Quietly she moved conscious that sounds echoed. At the vent opening she aimed her surveillance device toward the stacked cargo scanning for bioforms. The device located three huddled Carrion near one large crate. Peering out the vent slats she identified the large crate under a security blanket to prevent anyone from tampering or stealing the contents of the crate.

The click of a hatch lock releasing was loud in the cargo bay. Sudden rustling and slithering started and then stopped as soon as the hatch was opened. The unexpected opening sent a draft of air into the vent. Diana sniffed. It was Carrion alright. It was like smelling dead flowers.

Captain O'Rourke and Commander Jade stepped into the cargo bay, dressed in light armor as if expecting trouble. The moved to the far end of the bay, out of her sight. Her scanner tracked the Carrion on the ceiling, moving slowly toward the two officers.

Surely they wouldn't attack the captain on her ship. Not even rogue Carrion would act that bad…unless they believe they're at war. She thought a moment, recalling all the gossip she had heard on her travel through various ports and ships. There was nothing about the Carrion Nation going to war. Carrions were interested in hunts. They looked for treasures that others thought were merely cultural tales. If they found anything they were mum about it, but because they continued from generation to generation to do it, Diana suspected the practice well worth each generation's effort.

It wasn't the type of hunt Diana was interested in. Once a treasure was found there were no more surprises to it. With people, once found, anything could happen.

The colors on her device indicated a Carrion was ready to drop on it's prey but then suddenly it quieted. Carrion didn't move in a blur or fast enough that it would be difficult to shoot them. Their success rate in dropping on their prey depended on if the victim was sleeping or remained still which was why they stayed out of the war business.

An alarm from her sensor indicated the security equipment in the maintenance tunnel was coming on line. With quick efficiency Diana sprayed a mist behind her that would neutralize the air and swung the old fashioned vent cover open. The vent opened noisily which had Diana swiftly moving away from it. In a corner she blended in with the hull. Pressed against the bulkhead Diana watched one Carrion shadow move to investigate the noise while the other two continued to follow the two women. They had not heard the vent opening over their own movement. Now she could see what they were doing. They were bringing the security system back on line. Each unit was reset, and checked. It took close to an hour. She suspected they were setting the bots on a random encryption code so they would not be as easily disabled with a remote authentication logon.

Then they began searching the cargo containers, comparing what was logged in the manifest with what their sensors showed. Before leaving the bay, the captain opened a panel near the hatch cover and by the beep, something else was reset. After they left the Carrion scurried around the bay.

Her fingers moved slowly so as not to attract attention from the three moving around the room in a search pattern. Then they changed to Loki.

The sensors for detecting smoke didn't go off when the small thin canister the size of her small finger began to discharge smoke, but the Carrion panicked. They morphed to thin dark flat shadows with rustling and slithering sounds, heading to an exit in a rush. Diana watched fascinated. The stories are true. They have an aversion to smoke.

The moment they opened the vent grate three guard bots came active from their alcoves. Depending on the type of alarm, hatches and exits would lock down with only security people able to bypass the locks. How the ship's crew handled the alarm would tell her how important 8A was. Stepping into the corridor Diana paused. The corridor was awash in a yellow light. The thudding of feet from around the corner had her moving into another hatch arch. She pressed against the hatch door. Four people ran by her, two of them the captain and commander.

Diana decided to wait out the yellow alarm. The hatch she was in front of was the ammunitions depot from Wesley's military days.

The yellow lights switched off replaced by brighter lights. It was not as easy to blend into the background. Taking the gravity tube Diana stopped at each deck, taking care to duck out of sight when Commander Jade and Captain O'Rourke stepped in. It became a game for her. They had the same idea as her only they made a more thorough inspection of each deck. All decks Diana peered out at were absent of anyone, except security bots. It meant that during a security alarm, or depending on the color code, crew members had their areas to search or sit tight while another group searched the decks. Each elevator or deck access would have it's own team and obviously, this one was the head of security and the captain's assignment. Did that make this access more important than the others? That was something to ponder over while restudying the ships schematics.

Pausing at deck 3 where the majority of the hydroponics domes were, Diana had the thought of a fresh apple. It was a prized fruit for many species. From her location she could see rows of fruit trees and bushes, vegetables and other things she didn't recognize with labels over each hydroponics bed. There was a good exchange market for selling fresh produce to the waystations that didn't grow everything the residents liked or for variety. She was about to step out and see where the apple orchard was when a security bot hovered into view.

A question was posed to her.

Puzzled Diana shook her head. She stepped back into the tube and pulled herself back into motion to deck 2.

Between deck 3 and 2 an annoying sound caught her by surprise and by the time she halted her upward movement it stopped.

"What was that?" she muttered.

Glancing down she saw a shadow. Diana quickly exited. Her exit was in section C. How did she get on the other side of the ship's U-shape? As she walked the corridor she studied the names on the doors. Seven officers beside the captain and owners suite shared deck 2. The rest were empty.

Back in her cabin she checked for messages and found none. All her sentinels were quiet. As much as she wanted to go over her excursion she wanted her recorder to break it down first so she could compare her own observations with its summation. Tired, she fell asleep on the couch waiting for the sensor to complete its break down.

*.*.*.*

Chapter 3

Jade woke after four hours of sleep. It was all the respite her body needed. Sitting before her terminal she checked on the search progress. Thirty minutes later she was distrustful of any monitoring equipment, and knew she needed to do something about it now.

* * *

"I don't care if you don't have a clue about why the security systems on deck 8 were disabled or even who set them off after they were reengaged. I want the bot logs which will give me that information," Captain O'Rourke informed PO Comam who was looking at her with his usual flustered look at why the bots were not functioning up to their specs, and why a high level security clearance could not access the alarm logs. Humming and hawing was his usual ploy when he was trying to wheedle out of something.

Commander Jade had already downloaded the information from a small kiosk and had a recovery program going over it while she slept so O'Rourke was not worried about losing the information. She was curious how long Comam would put her off until he admitted he didn't know how to perform a job he was principally responsible for, retrieving lost data from his bots.

"Captain," he drew out slowly as he trawled around for a ready excuse, "I'm going to have to make some time for that." He took a deep and dramatic sigh, "I already have a repair table scattered with parts putting together the diagbot. It went and dumped its core memory…"

This was exactly why she didn't send her cleaning bot to his shop for repair. No telling what program it would be returned with or when.

"I want the logs in two hours PO Comam. Dismissed."

For a very brief moment the impulse to give the captain a glare came up but PO Comam was not suicidal. The scuttle butt from below decks was that when Captain O'Rourke laid down a line it was best you didn't cross over it. The consequences were immediate. Those that didn't believe it in the beginning and challenged her he had not seen any of them again. Not even on leaves to the usual spacer bars. It was scary to think some of those characters, as tough as they were, could disappear, and no one knew to where.

Comam gave a military brace, and turned quickly, bumping into the bulkhead to escape her.

When the hatch closed behind him, O'Rourke went to the next headache… balancing her budget. Every department needed something and HQ lately had not been forth coming in providing them what they needed. It was disquieting since to O'Rourke it indicated something was coming down the pipe. The Wesley was a profitable ship for the company she leased it from and for the crew that she shared the extra credits with.

"Drats," she muttered. "They'll have to wait for that part." She quickly tapped a response to Commander Sousa, her head engineer, and sent a copy over to Commander Jade, whom she would rather be grooming for the second position than LeMarks. She was about to send it when she added an addendum.

If you can procure the part for fewer than 200 credits, get it. O'Rourke smiled thinking of Sousa sending Henison out to scour each port they docked at to look for one.

Noon passed quickly for O'Rourke as she moved to her next job, visiting the bridge to see how 2nd Lieutenant Crow was doing. She was pleased that Crow was settling in well as OOD, Officer On Deck.

* * *

Diana stood before the mirror critically studying the casual wear the cabin clothing bot created for her. Tools she never left home without were hidden from view. Even if the evening turned out to be something more than an information gathering meeting, nothing would seem more than adornment or part of her clothing. Be prepared for anything was her motto. Noticing the smirk she wore in her reflection she decided she had better go before wiping it off her face would become too difficult.

* * *

O'Rourke's method of relaxing was to cook. The steady chopping and grinding helped her think about damaging people without actually hurting them. It was a skill her last commander had taught her before he retired. He had also attempted to teach her to forgive herself for her mistakes, but at the time she was not ready. She needed an additional ten years of relentless pursuit, capture, or destruction of the enemy to end the self flagellation.

O'Rourke stared at the dinning table, looking for anything she may have forgotten. Anything that suggested intimacy was missing. Napkins were wrapped around the eating utensils and laid across the plates; glasses for water and wine were at the top of the plates.

Water with a twist of lemon, she remembered. This was a fact finding evening with casual overtones and nothing more, she reminded herself as she dropped the curled lemon slices into the water pitcher.

Wesley's hydroponics grew sweet lemons, oranges, and luscious apples, a valuable commodity to trade for other fruits and vegetables on some of the stations that had their specialties.

The ding sounded.

"Admit," she ordered, hoping it was Diana and not ship business that would divide her attention.

"Good evening," Diana greeted.

"Right on time. Please come in."

"It's rather difficult to be late when we're neighbors." Diana sniffed the air appreciatively. "Hmm."

"Would you like something to drink with your meal?"

"What are you drinking?"

"White wine from Ironoa."

"I'll have the same."

The table was set for two with the wine and water set in the center of the table, in a neutral position so either one of them could help themselves to refills.

Dinner was peppered with casual questions from O'Rourke around what Diana did and how she liked traveling. Diana answered with few words and sometimes only with a smile.

After the meal O'Rourke and Diana sat in the front room sharing a drink that would curl the toes of someone not used to the liquor content.

"So, did you find something to entertain yourself with for the day?" O'Rourke asked.

"I caught up on sleep then went sight seeing."

O'Rourke studied her over her cognac. "Traveling can tire you out, huh?"

"Yes." Diana's legs were stretched in front of her with her heels resting comfortably on a hassock. She found the captain's couch comfortable like it was broken in properly, meaning it had been slept on as much as sat on.

"I understand you visited mess hall on deck 6," O'Rourke mentioned.

"I took a peek in the one on deck 4 and decided it was not my cup of java. A little too wild. 6 was more to my liking."

"Bored passengers are dangerous. So, what did you find interesting on deck 6?"

"The location of a gambling game," Diana admitted with a grin. "Deck 8 at 20 bells. I hope it's allowed?" After Commander Jade's reaction to the Carrion being on deck 8, it surprised her that the crew gathered for a game there.

"Yes, at your own risk. You look like you can take care of yourself so I won't bother to warn you that there are sharks amongst that group."

Diana's answering grin earned her a salute from O'Rourke. Their glasses clinked together as Diana returned it.

"I don't think you'll be getting much from them though. One of the passengers has been cleaning them out. You'll probably meet her there yourself."

"Do tell," Diana said.

O'Rourke's eyes darkened as she thought about joining the game just to watch Diana but it was crossing a line she knew should exist for ship morale reasons. She had to leave some activities on the ship free from her unofficial visits and direct intervention.

She swirled her cognac, letting the aroma tickle her nostrils with the richness. It was one of seven rare bottles of liquor that her ex gave her as a peace offering. Firmly she pushed that irritating reminder from the present.

"Not enjoying your drink?" a quiet voice asked.

O'Rourke looked up startled. "Just thinking," she allowed.

A grin appeared on Diana's face. "Let me guess. It has to do with who gave you the bottle of cognac."

O'Rourke's eyes slitted for a moment and then she relaxed. "What makes you think that?"

"You were focused on the drink. This brand is considered very hard to get, and beyond a freighter captain's pay. You also mentioned down time which along with the aroma brought you to…how you acquired your bottle."

"Do you entertain all your hosts with a display of your deduction abilities regarding their personal lives?"

Diana shook her head in amusement, not put off with the defensive response. The captain's face was flushed from drink. Diana knew she normally didn't drink which had her wondering why she broke out such an expensive drink to share with a stranger. The questions all night from the captain were polite inquiries into what she was about so her comment and hitting the mark probably annoyed the captain to no end. But then, she knew most of the answers.

"Some."

"And what does it get you?" O'Rourke asked.

"An interesting night."

O'Rourke gave a short laugh. "I must really be out of the game because I've never heard of that pick-up line."

"Have you been to any bars lately?"

"Not the kind I would want to meet someone at that I intended on having a lengthy relationship with."

"Spacer bars," Diana said. "What do you consider lengthy?"

"More than a night," O'Rourke answered.

"Ooh. Not even a player," Diana teased.

"What about you? Are you a player?"

"If the person is interesting I'll stay around for more than a few days," she said.

O'Rourke snorted. "So, is Wesley your bar?" O'Rourke shook her head. "I said that wrong."

"You're tired and you've had enough drink to relax you," Diana offered. "It's time for me to leave so you can get some sleep. I'll let you know if I meet up with any worth while sharks tonight."

"You can let me know who you think they are, and we'll compare notes." O'Rourke got up from her chair and showed her guest to the door. "I'll walk you to your suite."

Diana smiled. "I can find my way. Good night, Captain, and thank you for this evening. Your choice in the menu was outstanding and so was your cooking." She gave a wave to the captain and turned to her quarters. An amused smile was on her face as she walked up the corridor. Sniffing, she picked up scents from others that had passed. One in particular caught her attention. It was the new scent on the market for Erudites. There were 45 Erudites crew members. No passengers. Someone on downtime, she thought. A captain like O'Rourke would not allow personal scents worn while they were on the job. She had noted that the captain did not use any products that scented her even on her down time, or maybe she felt she was always on duty. Her quarters were air cleaned with the basic, no nonsense air freshner that left no pleasant reminders of a favorite dirt-side holiday spot. Even the cooking smells did not linger.

Cooking. Now that was not in her file.

* * *

After Diana left, O'Rourke sat back in her chair and mentally sifted through what little she had gotten out about Diana Rue. The woman wore long sleeves so if she had the trademark tats of a mortleige they were concealed well. She admitted to traveling a lot and that she would occasionally stay in one place for a few days. That made her a player, but a player of what game? She would ask Vicky what she found out about her.

Her door chimed.

It had to be Vicky who would be asking questions she did not have answers to. She was going to have to admit she fell short of her goal in filling in a better profile on this passenger.

"Admit," she resignedly called.

She sat up when she saw who it was. "What do you want?"

"May I come in, Captain?"

"And start rumors? Oh, no," she told him firmly, standing up.

"Standing out here will start rumors."

"Then by all means come in. But don't bother to sit because this won't be long," she warned. "So, what do you want?"

"We used to be friends and even got married," he said, wearing a smile that could get him shot.

"Henison," she growled warningly, "this is not a reunion. We had a business deal. It's over. So drop it."

He shook his head at the force behind the 'drop it' message. "I understand why you've been avoiding conversations about old times with me on this ship…a captain and a NCO don't have conversations, but we're alone now so you can tell me why you're ticked off at me."

"Because you drop in and out of my life leaving me holding a bag of toxic trouble. I know you purposely deployed on this freighter for a reason and it's not from friendship. What's black ops to do with my ship in another galaxy?" she demanded.

"I trust you've debugged your quarters," he murmured, looking around. He turned his palm up, revealing a small device used to block anything used to pick up sound or visual images. "I wanted to make sure you were alright," he told her seriously.

"I'm fine so leave on the next crew rotation," she told him impatiently.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because there's trouble," he admitted. "And I think it's because of what I asked you to hide."

She was quiet for a while as she studied the older looking soldier that had offered her an out to a difficult situation years ago. It had been a short term marriage agreement, but after that he kept popping up in her life with trouble close behind. "I know what you gave me. I checked it out. Now it's hidden away and I don't know where."

"It doesn't matter to these people. Your checking it out is probably what alerted someone and now there's a rumor that the captain on the Wesley has a puzzle piece to a treasure map. I came to make sure…"

"What treasure map?" she interrupted.

"A map to the whereabouts of the Ruger."

"Ruger? What's that?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "An artifact, a religious icon, a prayer, or maybe just a stone. Whatever it is, it was stolen over two hundred centuries ago from the Museum of Tustin on Curio. Since then it's left behind a trail of dead people."

O'Rourke put her hands on her hips and stared at him disbelieving. There were millions of wild stories about lost artifacts that had mystical qualities about them and all had the dire attachments of imminent death to the undeserving that took possession of it. She snorted in derision at the idea that he would get involved in something that esoteric and that she would even care.

"If it was in a museum there would be a description along with its story. So just what did you give me that reminds you of the Ruger because what you gave me was not an artifact. It's modern, now five years old. It was date stamped and with the name of a city, Santo Rio Cabal 220022. What does that tell you?"

"That someone left a clue to its whereabouts in a statue."

"You aren't serious."

"This is serious," he insisted. "Any mention of a treasure sets off a chain of reactions that become forces of nature that if caught up in it you can only hold on and ride it out."

"Right, right," she told him mockingly. "It's a bunch of space waste, Henison. What you gave me was a copy of a statue of Dome, the Auzeme's god of death."

"It's what's inside of Dome. I tell you O'Rourke, this hunt is for real. You need to take it seriously."

She snorted and reached over to pour herself another drink.

"It had a date stamp and the name of that city nutty people go to, to celebrate craziness," she reiterated. "So, this is about another religion. I guess at your age you need something to believe in. You've just about run out of all your own luck, eh?" she mocked.

Henison's eyes narrowed as he noted the seal was just recently broke and one third of the bottle was emptied. O'Rourke caught his gaze and smiled at his misconception.

"I had company. We liked your cognac, and if I was a cordial host I would offer you a glass but I'm not, so go on with this tale of yours."

"It's just one of those things the mystics like to label as Keys to the Divine," he admitted.

O'Rourke burst out laughing. "Oh, gads but you have it bad. Treasure fever. Not religious fervor at all. Well, in it's own sense it does have the same brainless drive. Really, Henison, you have got to get interested in something else," she said.

"You don't have to believe it has any kind of power, O'Rourke. The people interested in it do. How come you never changed your name when we got married," he abruptly shifted direction.

O'Rourke raised her eyebrows. It had been a point he had asked her a long time ago. Why should she change it? Few people did then as now and besides, it was not a real marriage. Her eyes turned a slate gray and her mouth tightened into a thin line. A distraction tactic, she guessed. It was not going to work.

"Okay, okay," he quickly back tracked. "Listen. I heard a rumor that this new passenger is law enforcement. Is that true? Or maybe a treasure hunter?"

O'Rourke snorted. "That's LeMarks latest gossip, and he heard it from someone else that thought it funny to say that to him so he wouldn't go panting after her. He thought those teenage nymphs were prostitutes. Gave them each their own bunk so he could visit each without interruption. I think one of them gave him a scare because now he won't go anywhere where they may be. If you take him seriously, you'll be the only one on this ship."

Henison's forehead furrowed. "They need watching. I caught them more times than my own crew hanging out in the hydroponics area, and that's restricted even for the crew."

"Stealing apples?"

"Not apples. I haven't been able to figure out what it is they're interested in there. I have someone checking the area now for contaminants every two hours. Commanders Jade and Sousa have authorized four extra bots to hydroponics to help with the monitoring. That's a drain on resources, O'Rourke. Twice last night the security system went down and took an hour to recover."

"I read the reports," she replied. "I'm stopping up the holes in resources, people, and anomalies as fast as I can identify them. I've already sealed off deck 4 during certain hours from anyone trying to leave or enter it without Commander Jade's or my clearance. Tonight will be the first night our nocturnal passengers will be kept to their own deck. Let's see how well our security holds."

He nodded relieved. "So what do you think of this new passenger?" He tipped his head to the side to see if she would side step the issue again.

"You think she's one of the spies looking for your treasure?" O'Rourke tried not to burst out laughing in his face. "She's more of the type to hunt people than an artifact."

His eyebrows rose. "Just your type," he responded slowly as if digesting this bit of information.

"What's happening with your problem of last week?" O'Rourke asked to change the subject.

He shrugged his shoulders, knowing his CO, Lt. Commander Sousa, had sent her a shortened version of his report and comments. "The deck temperatures are still being reset to tropical. Instead of occasionally it's now occurring every week, still at random times, and not in connection with the security failures as far as we can tell."

"What do you think is going on?" she asked.

"I don't know. I've torn every subroutine down and went line by line and can't find where the change is that's causing such a ship wide manipulation. I asked your geek tech to check, and he's stumped. Not a good sign, O'Rourke."

"Did you give him some time to look into it?"

His glare told her he had demanded an immediate response. The Geek would never give an immediate reply. He checked his work several times because he liked to be right the first time.

"Well, there you go. He'll find it. Give him time. Do you think this has anything to do with the reason you're here?"

"I don't know. This ship doesn't feel right, some of the passengers don't feel right, and you have some really strange crew members. O'Rourke, you should take another look at some of them," he warned her.

"HQ likes to dump their trash on me. I can't figure out if they want me to wash them out of the merchant marines or have them arrested. And then there's the 'why me' question."

There was a stretch of silence between them.

"So, is this all you have to say to me in private?" she asked warily.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm here to help."

"You can't even figure out your own section, Henison. How are you going to help with the blasted anomalies that are occurring on all decks?" she demanded. He always thought he was the great rescuer when actually he was the one that caused the problem in the first place.

"Just thought you'd be interested in knowing why I hitched up with your ship," he retorted defensively. Then he grinned. "Hey, just like your Ma's family, huh?"

"Henison! Just when I think I can bear your presence you go and make it not worth the effort."

"You need some work on your family issues," he told her seriously. "That's probably why you don't want to settle down with someone."

"There's nothing going on between us, Henison," she blew up.

"Did I say there was? I know I'm not your type, O'Rourke. Geeze!" Then unable to resist, he added, "But everyone has to have someone. Everyone that wants to be great that is."

"Well maybe I don't want to be great."

Henison made a sound of amusement.

"Get out Henison. You gave your speech."

* * *

Diana selected a new outfit from the clothing bot, grinning at the convenience of being in a luxurious suite. The outfit was dark blue and long enough to cover her tats but short enough to show she was not hiding anything up her sleeves. Another reason why she had her tats start at her forearms rather than wrists.

She preferred keeping her boots but did change the color. There were too many advantages to keeping them. Checking herself out in the triple mirrors she looked for any indication of what was beneath her clothing. She reminded herself she was not here on a job, but being aware was a necessity for staying alive.

To give herself time to study the people coming in, and confirm what she knew about each member, and their habits, she was going to arrive early. Before leaving her suite she took a careful look around it. The cleaning bots had already done their job and her own sweep of the rooms confirmed her scans that there were no new monitoring devices placed in the suite while she was gone. She deactivated the screamer, not wanting to waste a good guard dog protecting an empty room. Her walk to the lift was silent. As she passed the workout room she noted a light over it showed it was occupied.

On her ride down she didn't meet anyone, nor did she expect to. The lifts in C section would be busier, being closer to the crew's quarters.

It was an official rule on all ships both civilian and military that officers not mix with noncoms during social off hours on the ship. In the military it was carried on even off base, so she was not worried about running into any of the officers, namely LeMarks or Jade. What she knew of the crew she was sure who would show for the game, especially if the members she met in the crew's mess hall that steered her to the game, already let everyone know that she would be in attendance. She was new mark and an unknown. For the sharks this was a challenge. They would let the less skilled play the first few games before stepping in.

Four merchant crew members were setting up the area. Pillows for those that like to smoke the drug biloz in a reclining position were scattered about. It was a favorite among the docks since it was not addictive in itself. Boxes were placed for sitting and refreshments were on the outside for those watching. In the center was the main table. Six seats were set around the table with no beverages or food near. These were serious players. One of the Carrion still disguised as a young Comatian was directing the setup, making sure there was a lot of space between the players and the audience.

This was not a friendly game of cards. It had the makings of a serious high stake rivalry. She wondered where they would fit her in.

"Diana. You made it." A young PO 3rd Class came swaggering over. If she hadn't already known that PO 3rd Class M'Bla grew up on the water and the swagger was part of her walk on a rolling deck, she would have mistaken her for a sailor rather than a spacer.

M'Bla turned to the Carrion who was watching her with intent eyes. Diana was not sure just why she caught their attention in the lift but decided to leave any opinions aside until one of them spoke to her.

"She sat at the Dobly Table in Monte Rio. For only two rounds but that's more than I'll ever see, Klinga."

The Carrion whistled at Diana, using the language of the Cromatian it was emoting rather than Common Speech, CS.

"I don't know until I see how you all play," Diana answered in CS. "I didn't know Comatians gambled." She shrugged her shoulders unconcerned. "But you're the first I've met."

The teen sniffed, and returned her attention to setting up the area. She turned back to Diana and pointed to the chair at the bow of the ship. It was where the beginner sat. For a teen she was really bossy.

It seemed it was going to be a square off between her and Klinga. M'Bla was the dealer. Her hands were a blur as she shuffled but slowed down when passing out the cards just as the rules specified.

No betting pegs were on the table so Diana took this to be her way of earning a seat at the table. Diana had no idea how a Cromatian would gamble but she did hear about how Carrion gambled.

One of her past jobs was to protect a crook until she could testify against her pirate boss. While hiding out, they played a lot of games, and one was card games which gave her a giant leap into the serious gambling world. Her opponent had a profound understanding of many species that her boss entertained as well as gambled with, and willingly shared it with Diana, probably to keep from being bored. Though Lortions was not permitted to join in the games with her bosses partners, or visitors, it didn't mean she didn't know how to play. Her skill was a secret her boss thought to keep to himself, using her to keep his own skills honed. At the end of her protection contract, Diana could understand why this double agent was dangerous.

Her lips curled up at the corners as she studied Klinga. She kept her eyes on Klinga and peripherally on her cards. By the fifth hand Klinga had only won one hand and the point difference was low.

At the end of the fifth hand the others decided Diana proved her worth and clamored to get on with a real game. Pegs were pulled out, and everyone bought what they had credits for. Diana noted that there was no extension of credits. You either had the funds to play or you didn't.

It did not take very much concentration to stay even. Since she had three weeks, she did not want to clean everyone out, including Klinga.

"Game is over," M'Bla announced.

Diana looked at the timer set on the table. Three hours had passed.

Everyone promptly began to clean the area. Diana helped, but only because she wanted to study Klinga. She was standing in a corner speaking in earnest with a crewman.

Bronot, Diana remembered. Engineering. Just transferred from the Rollins. Not exactly the type of guy she wanted to look after her ship's engines. Klinga left with him. Diana was wishing she could hear their conversation but there was too much noise around her.

"Diana, I don't think fuzzie likes you," Merchant Seaman Friz reflected. He plopped down on the barrel he had put back in place. He pulled out a smoking stick and sniffed it. His long gray fingers were as thin as the rolled herb stick. Smoking was not permitted in the cargo bay so he contented himself with weaving it between his fingers.

"Stop calling her that, Friz or one day you're going to find her taking everything you own," M'Bla warned.

"She already had," he returned, not seeming to mind. "But I got even. I think you should be careful where you wander," he continued undaunted. "Her and her group get pretty uptight about losing."

"Ever meet anyone that isn't upset about losing?" Diana asked amused.

"Those fuzzies have claws that are sharper than my buddy knife," Hedoc replied.

"Hedoc," M'Bla warned.

"Relax PO. They call us worse," Friz said.

"When?" M'Bla asked.

"You heard that high whistle the other day? That was no come hither call. That was a curse on us."

"He won everything she had," Hedoc explained to Diana. "I think there was something she liked in that stack." Hedoc nodded to the pin Friz was wearing. "She wasn't expecting on losing it. Her group leader was upset too."

"I kinda like it too. I'm not throwing it into the pot."

"You're doing that to tick her off," M'Bla told him flatly.

"So what if I am. I told her I would trade her the pin for that charm Cuzon lost but she won't do it, or that other one that bosses them around, Belle something or other. Soooo…"

Diana lifted her eyebrows.

"Cuzon's not a gambler," M'Bla explained to Diana, "and he got suckered into a game with those girls. Friz over here is his buddy and feels it's his duty to get the charm back."

"Cuzon should never have bet something he couldn't afford to lose, just like Klinga. To me, it's all part of gambling."

"Think so?" Friz drawled. He polished the broach that didn't need polishing.

"You look silly wearing it," Hedoc said.

"I don't trust it out of my sight," Friz said. "While I'm working one of them could come into my quarters and steal it. Doesn't matter if they're now locked up on their deck after midnight bells. They'll find a way just like…" suddenly he stopped. "I have to get back to work."

M'Bla shook her head at the departing Friz. "Come on, Hedoc, we're going up to the second deck just to be sure Diana's not jumped."

Hedoc grinned at Diana. "Do you like the Q?"

"Very plush and easy on the senses."

"You seem to know a lot about ships," Hedoc mentioned.

"I'm a knockabout. I've done more jobs on a ship then a pelconte has digits," she grinned at the two.

"That explains a lot," Hedoc nodded his head. "You gamble like a dock rat."

"I learned from dock rats. Only way to survive."

"I always wondered if a person could travel around the galaxy on jobs wherever you can get them," M'Bla admitted wistfully.

"It's not for everyone. I've been in some scary situations I didn't think I would survive but I have. Being a knockabout is like a virus that runs in your blood. It's a need to travel but not get stuck in the same route. Meeting different people in different situations is a stimulus. It's a big universe with more dimensions and rules than I ever thought could be." She smiled widely at the two. "But I love it."

"So, where are you headed now?"

"I just finished one job and have enough credits to float around for a while. I thought I would visit places that most people don't. That's what I like to do. How about you two? You ever take vacations to places you have no idea what the rules are?"

"That's not my idea of a vacation," M'Bla admitted. "So, I guess I'll stick to my job here. Now, Hedoc likes river rafting. Some of us tag along and get our adventure fix for that bit of time off."

They stopped on the second deck without any unpleasant interruptions.

"See you at the next game. Two days from now. Same place," M'Bla told her.

"Sleep deep, dream well and wake refreshed," the two crewmembers chimed.

"Like wise," Diana waved. As she walked back to her quarters her senses were up full, noticing anything that had changed since she had last been here, including smells. A grin crossed her face as she caught a familiar scent of the captain.

Continued...