14. The Arrival

. . .

A five minute wash and Daisy and Ross were both back in the cockpit in time for final approach. The ring of garbage was much closer now, and the space around them was full of ships in countless varieties popping in and out of jump. Like confetti, but trashier.

Loki had taken over the comms chair, mostly by way of having someplace to sit while the humans sped off to do their own thing while they still had time. He was content to let Tam handle docking. She kept glancing at the speaker set into the console near him, where a light flickered intermittently. She'd done her part and sent in a request for acknowledgement a few moments ago. Now it was time for the Ends to pick up.

The speaker finally popped into life. A surly voice filled the air of the cockpit, gurgling slightly. "Hauler 771943, request?"

"I want to dock." Tam sounded equally surly, rolling her eyes for emphasis. "Not here for the scenery, mate, just point me to an open bay and get out of my ears."

"We's busy today. You got anything good?"

"My business is always good."

A low, rolling grunt. It didn't sound impressed with her flat-toned boast. "You got authorization? Backing? Sponsor?"

Tam leaned in close to the comm, pitching her voice so that all those low, bass-like notes under her accent came tumbling out with so much hostility that it veered back around into something like stone-cold professionalism. "Sponsor. First name: Fuck. Second name: You. Point me to a bay, you worm-faced bastard, I know where you live and I can make your life extremely problematic." She hissed the rest, a barbed threat. "Run my hauler number if you don't believe me."

The comm crackled and went dead. Tam leaned comfortably back in her seat and looked at her shocked passengers with a look of sweet serenity. She folded her palms on her lap like a monk, and, just to really dig it in, began to hum.

The comm crackled back half a minute later. The gurgling voice sounded contrite. But still gurgly. Apparently that was a natural feature for whoever was on the other end of the line. "Miss Tam, that'll be Dock #9694, Blue Ring Ridge. Sending docking information to your ship. Welcome, uh, back." There was a pregnant, deeply meaningful pause. "So… Your security with you today, ma'am?"

Tam smiled. It looked carnivorous. "How about this for a suggestion? No matter what you think your guess is today, instead you assume they are, or else the next time I have to come here, they will be."

Whoever they were, they sounded terrified. "Yes ma'am. Docking out."

She coughed delicately into her hand, not looking at her dead-silent guests. "I never like these places. Not much a fan of being here today without the muscle on standby, but hey. A good reputation sells for more'n gold. It'll keep me safe enough." She took control of the ship again, setting it on a course for a small opening hatch off to the portside of the ship, gliding until auto-dock procedures took over.

. . .

They disembarked off the back bay of the ship, the blockade runner now docked and sealed in place in a semi-umblical bay that opened into a haphazard airlock watched over by a large, slug-like attendant. Tam had gone another step and found a couple of extra layers to throw over the humans, jackets and kerchiefs and a few other scraps left behind that were ill-fitted but gave them the same sort of shiftless, anonymous look the locals would have. She walked them into the umbilical, keeping in front so that the attendant had to deal with her.

By the look in his wet, gimlet eyes, the docking authority had called ahead. "M'em," the creature rumbled at her, gradually realizing he had to look up. Very far up. "I offer-"

"Whatever it is, I don't need it. Take off, Jeraxis. And you and I have a polite understanding, of course - nobody comes in this bay without dealing directly with me. Clear?"

The attendant froze at her authoritative tone, then bent so that his neckless head approximated a bow. His voice was cordial. "M'em," he said, and then he took off in a lumbering hustle.

Tam rolled her eyes. "Jer isn't the worst person here, but he will take a bribe to let some other asshole rummage your ship. So. I'm staying here, with my stuff, to make sure you've got your ride back out. This isn't my show, anyway." She jutted her chin at Loki. "You know these kinda places, I'm sure."

"Well enough." The laconic response held worlds within it. So did his next. "Thank you."

"Yeah." She held her palm out. Hesitant, Loki offered his hand and found a comm device slapped into it. "Emergency calls, shit like that. I might check in, make sure you're not in the brig or gotten yourselves dead. Maybe I hear something useful on the feed. Otherwise I plan on napping and waking up at any loud noises, because it'll be some jackass cutting his way into my rig. It will happen at least once." Ignoring his look, she turned to the two humans. Her voice lilted into a wry but lilting chirp, the sarcastically delivered song of the Cool Mom. "You kids have fun!"

Daisy blinked. "Uh, thanks?"

Tam snapped a wave, tipped Ross a more honest-looking wink, and disappeared back into the bay.

. . .

They split up. Not the smartest move, but the fastest for the amount of information scouring they needed to do on short notice. Loki broke trail towards one of the upper rings, where buyers and slick dealers moved along cleaner walkways looking down on the throngs with whatever they were trying to move. Here he could keep a weather eye on the humans, and keep his ear towards the voices that were going to be the loudest. They were staying in the arrival hubzones first, no breaking off all the way into the darker depths of the ring until they had the first scraps of a real action-plan together.

Loki snatched a canister of some overpriced liquid off a passing vendor's tray, daring the small lizardlike man to say something to him. He wore a different face here, too, but unlike Earth's little expo, now his features took on a crueler, shadowy sharpness. The look on his face told the alien it wasn't worth a life dunning someone like him for coin. It'd be better to doublecharge a fresher fish, one that didn't know any better, didn't wear the faintest scar on his face to show he meant business and dealt business - a good use of the fading wound the mercenary idiot on Earth had tried to give him. And he could hear dozens of those fresh fish without moving.

He drank from the can, grimacing at the acid-sweet taste of cargo-jumper hashwine, and watched Daisy creep around a knot of new arrivals, studying them, eavesdropping, and doing it without making a scene. She palmed fruit as she went by. Nothing edible. Just a common action for show.

Over in the other direction, Ross was studying cargo crates and the brutes delivering them, stepping out of the way and looking like nothing of interest. He wondered what Ross thought he would get there, but the human didn't look frightened. Ross seemed to be noting what came through this part of the port. The daily shipments of weapons, food, drugs, and the rare bit of luxury. Perhaps if they could at least get wind of where in the Ends their guys and their cut-rate battleship were, it would be a start. Crews might gossip. Loki suspected they'd both taken his general idea of reconnaissance close to heart. Almost touching, that much faith.

"What're ya buying?" The question rattled into Loki's ear, hostile and curious both. There was a blatant challenge in it, in the sudden raised aura of tension in the air behind him. If he was a competitor, they were going to try to throw him down into the crowd, shame him out immediately to others if it worked. If he wasn't a competitor, that might snare him a chance at a useful conversation.

"Expendable tools." Loki didn't budge from where he leaned against the already haphazard railing, the word as coldly spoken as the hint demanded.

Harsh, cawing laughter spat into his ear. "Good place for it. Good fucking place." A hearty hand clapped onto his shoulder and the tension eased off.

He could have cut that hand off, if he thought it necessary. Almost did. Still, he didn't move. He'd already chosen a persona to show off up here, and it didn't have to be a charming one. It matched his false face, bladed and unpleasant. "Get your hand off of me," he said instead, making sure the sneer on his face could be heard. He turned his face, slightly, to make sure the other man could see murder in his eyes. A Quist. Tall, built like one of their laborers. Very humanlike, one of many reasons no one would look too closely at the two humans in the crowd. Loki's jaw set. This one was probably not one of that race's powerful telepaths, then. They all stayed in the arcane castes, fated for better lives than what was struggled for at this port, but still possible. His mind was closed by magic as a rule, because he knew his own weaknesses. Now he made certain he felt nothing attempt to lick at its shielding.

The hand slipped away as the Quist studied him. He hadn't taken offense, it seemed. In this crowd, offense had to be earned by more than a crass word or two. "All business, then?"

"Always." He turned away from the Quist and resumed watching the crowd. He caught Daisy glancing his way, having witnessed the movement. She didn't watch him long, she was smart enough to know he was in his element, that the mask was only that. He was in no danger among these people.

No, he'd been here before and knew the music around him. Maybe not this exact gangway, this particular rotted port with its unsavory hidden society. But he'd been here. He could feel the lines of his face drawing tight. Bad years, those were. In the shadow of a warlord and his shattered children. But still useful enough to him, in their bitter old way. "Are you selling?"

Something in the way he'd asked, that intentional, slithering undertone, had hit its mark. The Quist sounded quieter now, his boisterousness vanished. Business in his voice, too. "Not that, no. I run hard goods." Yet another weapons man, or stolen steel. It was almost like being trapped. Loki knew he no longer cared for this sort of life, and even playing the game with it had become tiresome. And yet there was so much of it in the universe, all of it hard to change.

"Then go away." Another half-turn, making it less of a slap and opening next with the invitation, hiding his very real dislike. "Or sell me information on what I need."

A glint, a crease along the angular, whitish face. Not a particularly tall Quist, only about Loki's own height, if maybe having another inch or so on him. Another tell, another reason why the man had a life among the throwaways here. No innate magic, brute, and short. He could be a thrall in a satellite community, or he could be free among the stars. So long as he claimed no home and no Queen. So an offer to buy anything was not something a man like this could easily toss away. "I might know a thing or three."

"Package deals only. I'm not going to stand around and barter for all." Loki nursed the canned wine, scowling. It made for a good effect on his visitor, but ye gods and burned-out stars, it was a bad drink. "Tell me what you know, and I'll pay well for it."

The Quist hesitated, then rattled off a number. "Pay that first. Then I'll talk." That got him another look from Loki, a speculative one. "Nothing for free in the Ends. Nothing but a bad death." He inclined his head. "And that preferably someone else."

"Fair," said Loki, and with a rustle at his pocket, he transferred the credits. The answering chime from the Quint's jacket came a second later, and then the Quint began to talk.

. . .

Daisy watched the illusion melt from Loki's face. Normally he would have left it on, but instead he rubbed at his cheek with his palm, as if his flesh irritated him. She knew it wasn't the itch that came with illusions. Whatever was bugging him, it wasn't skin deep. She looked around them, wrinkling her nose at what passed for a ruined little alley, a gutted out passage with exposed oily conduits and the faint scent of mummified garbage. "You okay?"

Loki shrugged. "I lose my taste and my patience for these sorts today," he said, sounding grudging at his own perceived flaws. "They tire me. Small and weak and looking to gain power over something even smaller than themselves."

She cocked her head, looking him over. He was fine, obviously, but he indeed still looked worn from the shipwreck. She knew what he could be like when overloaded past his usual limits. Tired, snappish, and not in a mood to play his usual games. It would probably last a while. She teased at him instead, it usually, paradoxically, helped. "I think we're a bad influence on you. Got you too used to places that aren't scummy all the time. With toilets that work. I never thought I'd find a place with a public bathroom worse than the one at the Newark airport." She pondered going for full tackiness, but only for a second. "I also have questions about some of the nozzles and stuff in there, but I'm pretty sure I can guess. Washed my hands, though."

He snorted, and a glint of his wryness came back. "I'll trust you not to lie about that, but forgive me if I don't want you serving food for a while. Anyway. Ends is a good place for mercenaries although even here the blatantly expendable kinds are somewhat frowned upon. I found that curious, but a nice surprise. They operate quietly, when these meat grinders do, and they work in ring sectors that are, by requirement, difficult to easily recognize for their more illicit work. I have some access to their networking now. I can likely arrange some interviews, get access those ways."

Daisy nodded. "I got a name," she said. Then she grinned at his surprise. "Okay, I've got like three names, but only one might be connected to the Shi'ar so I'm focusing on that one first. I'll skim info on the other two as I come across it, just in case. But my gut says I'm right. He's got a surface operation. Legitimate crew. But if you need a dirty job, he's got lots of the other kind, too. The meat boys. Supposedly. If it overlaps with what you have, then I think it's our guy."

Loki leaned his shoulder against a jutting piece of old and plasticky conduit, genuinely and visibly impressed. "And how did you get all that?"

"Same way you do, but with the bonus of looking like some homeless chick buying cheap food. Noticed probably even less, which kinda pisses me off but hey we'll work with it. So. I eavesdropped on a couple big dudes moving stuff out of a new arrival, then they yapped with some more guys, so I listened to them, until I got to the guys that tried to whisper their gossip." She grinned. "Also I borrowed a deck off Tam so I could start splicing in on some of the worse intercom networks here. These are pretty easy security systems to figure out. Guess that happens when it's a bunch of hashed together stuff. The easy crap is more reliable for everyone to work with."

Loki licked his lips and stared at the low ceiling of their alley. "When you say 'borrowed,' Daisy-"

"I mean actually borrowed." She pulled it out of her coat to show him. It was a compact black case that showed the scratches and dings of hard use. "I guess blockade runners gotta know a bunch of sideshow intel tricks, too."

"That they do." Loki shook his head, now pretending to be not impressed, because that was the sort of thing he did. "When lane work grows lean, they often sell information to keep fuel in the ships. What name did you get?"

"Sovel, some longtime pirate guy. I don't think he's welcome back home. Runs a scavenger operation, the Redhands. Heard of them?"

Loki shook his head. "I have not."

"He stays quiet, so I'm not certain yet that he lives in a battleship. But he's been around, he runs a steady business, and he's got enough reputation that if he's got an underground op that's about as well liked as like you describe, he gets away with it. A total hardass, way I heard it." She looked past him. "There's Ross."

Ross ambled his way into the alley, looking annoyed. It was hard to tell if it was specific annoyance, or if he liked ambling with his hands in his jacket pockets and didn't have anything like that in the borrowed clothes. "I got shoved around a lot. Only managed one useful thing, but it's pretty useful, at least. You two get anything?"

"Daisy has a name. I have my debonair charm and constant hostility. And credits. It'll get me into buyer's groups." Loki shoved over and leaned somewhere else, effectively bringing Ross into the group. Daisy rolled her eyes and grinned at his theatrical delivery. "What usefulness did you manage?"

"Turns out everybody likes a pilot here. Even a bad pilot, or a new pilot. I picked up enough good sounding words on that runner to bullshit my way through a bunch of conversations. Almost every ship here is looking for someone at least vaguely competent, and they'll talk to you for hours if you know your port from your starboard. I got no useful stuff by way of intel, but I can get anywhere in this place." Ross grimaced instead of smiling, trying to not look like he was slightly proud of himself.

"Excellent." It sounded genuine.

The comm in Loki's pocket crackled to life. "Not to be a nosy bitch, but your battleship's parked in the 9th sector."

Loki looked down at his pocket, and then at the two humans, his eyes narrowing in hot and genuine annoyance. "You're eavesdropping."

"I'm bored, your highnessnessy. I already scared off a scouting skid crew and it's been dead silent since, I think I overdid it. Sovel, right? I ran the name."

"Yeah," said Daisy, trying not to laugh. Loki looked like he was fighting with the small comm device.

"Hardass is right. I might've said a few worse things, personally, but then that's me. I'm impolite sometimes. Also might've chosen 'eccentric,' which is a hell of a thing to say about Shi'ar, who are already so uptight and twitchy that call'n 'em eccentric is probably a good way to get an ass kicked. Anyway, yeah, he's pretty much the boss of his little slice of ring when he's in dock, what I hear. And he is. Recently. I'm backing out, mate. Don't piss yourself in rage, there."

"Don't be spying on us, then." Loki still sounded irritated.

"I'm not spying, great and mighty prince. I'm helping. You're welcome. Tam, out."

"Thank you!" Daisy hoped she got the blurt out before Loki started digging around the back of the device to turn it all the way off. He gave her a near-murderous look. "I like her."

It was his turn to roll his eyes, but he didn't have a leg to stand on in a fight like that one. "No one around here has any taste." The comm was shoved away again. "Very well. I suggest we go take a look at this hostile little kingdom."

"Good suggestion. Let's go do that."