Last Stand (Stag Privateers Book 1) Page 2

  Years during which he'd be without the services of his new adult companion, which he wasn't about to deprive himself of. Besides, given how the two had salivated over the prototype technology, he would've sooner trusted Deeks to reprogram her.

  The only saving grace was that since Aiden was Ali's imprinted human, she was willing to give some leeway in her core priorities in order to follow his commands. He had, after a lot of effort, managed to snare her in various logical traps until she'd admitted that if it was a choice between killing an evil, murderous enemy or letting a member of her new crew die, she'd reluctantly kill the enemy. But only if she'd exhausted all other options. Thankfully, she'd also agreed that the same logic applied to maiming and incapacitating.

  And he couldn't complain about her work; Fix was a combat android specifically designed for boarding and capturing valuable targets, and somehow Ali kept up with him even under her restrictive parameters.

  He might have nothing but contempt for those HAE eggheads, but they knew their stuff.

  Fix met them at the forward airlock, all six feet six and three hundred pounds of it. It looked vaguely human, although its creators at Elson Robotics Initiative hadn't bothered with skin or hair, or sufficient detail to its frame to make the humans around it feel uncomfortable about the lack of clothes.

  Although it and Ali were both robots, they stood in such stark contrast to each other that there was no comparison; a combat android was expensive, but nowhere near what the adult companion was worth.

  And Aiden had to admit Ali certainly looked like she cost as much as a heavily customized combat cruiser: tall, just the right amount of curvy, with hair a shimmering wave reaching halfway down her back, so inky it shone with blue highlights. Her features were literally perfect, with large, mysterious dark blue eyes, like the sky at the edge of a planet's atmosphere, high cheekbones, full lips, an elegantly narrow nose, and creamy pale skin.

  It had only been a year or so since he'd “acquired” the prototype adult companion from a Deek trading ship, although now it was hard to remember what life had been like without her, or how he'd possibly made do. The Deeks had been carrying her as a special gift, the only one of her kind, to a high ranking leader of the Deconstructionist Movement from HAE.

  And Ali was quite possibly the ultimate gift; since stealing the companion from them and imprinting as her human, Aiden had confirmed for himself through a great deal of enjoyable exploration that she not only looked authentically human in every way but was also indistinguishable from a real woman to the other senses.

  All of them.

  Even more than that, she'd been created to be customizable to her human's preferences, so deeply that a lot of it was things Aiden hadn't even been aware of, such as that even her pheromones were adapted to his receptors, to trigger the strongest possible response in him. Which meant even if he could've gone and found a woman who looked just like Ali, which would've been impossible, she wouldn't have appealed to his other senses anywhere near as strongly.

  She was also constantly customizing herself to his social preferences as he interacted with her, providing him with companionship he not only found enjoyable but which would be beneficial to his mental wellbeing.

  Not just a lover, but a friend, confidant, advisor, bodyguard, chef, and anything else he needed her to be.

  Which, as captain of a privateer vessel waging constant war against the Deconstructionist Movement, was a lot of things. And she was more than up to the task; she could step into any role needed for the ship's operation, routine or during combat, and probably do them better than anyone else aboard, even though his crew was the most talented in the universe.

  Even more than that, she had all the best aspects of whatever role she was needed for with, as far as he could see, absolutely none of the downsides: a crewman who performed duties swiftly and perfectly and without question, a tireless bodyguard with instantaneous reflexes, an always affectionate, supportive, and giving lover who never got needy, distant, or argumentative.

  And so much more. He could spend countless hours finding new things to praise about her, and the same amount of time searching for any faults worth mentioning.

  HAE boasted that their new adult companions would meet all a human's needs. The pinnacle of robotic engineering, packing more computing ability than some colony planets boasted, with the ability link directly to the allnet. And lighter and stronger and more durable than any robot of similar dimensions could ever hope to be.

  And, in spite of Aiden's contempt for the company, he had to admit it wasn't an idle boast. He'd be hard pressed to think of anything about Ali he would want to improve. She was, by far, the best acquisition he'd ever made.

  “Excuse the interruption, sir,” Fix said, voice just synthesized enough that humans wouldn't find it off-putting coming from an obvious android. “It appears we've docked with the other ship, and the airlock's umbilical is connected. Were we going to board the vessel, or did you want to remain here and admire Ali a bit longer?”

  The AI said all that without the slightest trace of sarcasm or accusation; compared to Ali, its personality and conversational skills left much to be desired. Then again, it had been designed to burn enemies to cinders or incapacitate them en masse, so it didn't exactly need to be a people person.

  Even so, Aiden felt his cheeks flushing, and noticed his companion grinning at him knowingly. He gestured the two robots curtly towards the airlock. “Go.”

  Nodding, Fix slipped through the airlock and started along the umbilical, temporarily weightless between the artificial gravity of both ships. Ali shot Aiden a final look, as if warning him to stay put until she'd made sure the Fleetfoot was safe to her satisfaction, then leapt after the android, swimming gracefully along the umbilical in zero-g.

  Aiden watched her go until she was out of sight, then settled back to wait for the all clear.

  Chapter Two

  Blank Slate

  It didn't take long for Ali to call in, informing Aiden that the enemy ship was secure.

  The Fleetfoot's captain, Jorosh, had done as instructed, disarming his crew and gathering them in the galley to be placed in restraints. Fix was currently watching them, while the adult companion went through the rest of the ship confirming that it was free of danger. She'd also cracked enough of the Fleetfoot's internal systems to confirm with high confidence that they indicated everything was safe, as well.

  Aiden floated through the umbilical, toggling his mic to talk to his entire crew. “We're good over here. Come over and get to work.”

  He got acknowledgments from Barix, Belix, and the gunner that they were on their way. The gunner was his usual unemotional, disciplined self, of course, but the twins sounded equally unenthusiastic about the job waiting for them.

  To be expected, when it involved a lot of hard work and only the possibility of a larger than usual payout.

  The rest of his crew would bring specialized scanning gear and tools and go over the Fleetfoot from top to bottom, searching for hidden compartments and cataloguing anything of value. Then they'd haul it all over to the Last Stand and, as a final step, strip the ship of its most valuable systems and components.

  That last, yanking all the worthwhile electronics and materials, was the bare minimum profit they could expect to make from this. On top of that they'd get any cargo, the value of which ranged from barely worth shipping to another system to being an unbelievable jackpot.

  Not that they'd had many of the latter over the years, and far too many of the former.

  Beyond stripping the ship and lifting the cargo, they'd probably be able to scrape together a modest pile of currency chits: the Fleetfoot's operations budget in the ship's safe, and whatever the crew was carrying with them. And most likely they could also shake down the Deeks for the info to raid their private savings accounts and, if they were lucky, the account of whatever company or institution the Fleetfoot ran under.

  You could never tell, until you got in there and st
arted looting the target. For now, though, Aiden left the fun to his people and went to talk to the enemy crew.

  Ali met him just outside the Fleetfoot's, galley, looking relieved to see him still safe even though there'd been only the remotest possibility of danger to him. She followed him as he swept into the room, taking a position beside the doorway in case of trouble.

  The Deek crew, the standard complement of five for any light freighter, were lying on their stomachs in a line in front of the table, bound hand and foot and sweating in their Deconstructionist Movement standard issue uniforms, which had Deek insignia stitched all over them. Made it a lot easier to despise the clearly terrified handful of men and women.

  When Aiden strode forward to stand in front of his prisoners, a middle-aged, slightly thickset man at the center of the line struggled to his knees, glaring up at him. Aiden smiled back; he loved this part. “I'm here to formally accept your surrender, sir.”

  While he'd been talking, the other captain had been eyeing the medals pinned to Aiden's basic issue ship's uniform, same as those worn by most spacers who weren't Deeks the universe over. The uniform, of course, not the medals: those were the ones he'd earned for exemplary service fighting for the Preservationists during the war.

  It was stupid, to take such pains to conceal his identity in so many ways, and then wear those medals while boarding a Deek ship. But some stubborn part of him wouldn't allow him to go into combat, or potential combat, without them.

  Call it superstition, or undying loyalty to a cause he still hadn't given up on, or whatever, he just couldn't do it.

  Unfortunately, Deeks tended to recognize them without fail. “You have my surrender, but you won't have my cooperation!” the Fleetfoot's captain snarled. “I won't betray the Movement by helping some filthy Stag.”

  Aiden held back a condescending smile. Enemies in war tended to think of derogatory nicknames for each other, especially when their official names were mouthfuls like “Deconstructionist” and “Preservationist”. Deek was straightforward enough, but “Stag” came from the Movement's perception of anyone who disagreed with them as wanting society to stagnate.

  Ironically, while the Deeks seemed to hate the nickname their enemies had pinned on them and avoided using it, most Preservationists seemed perfectly happy with being called Stag. In fact, they practically wore the name as a badge of honor; a stag was a noble beast, after all.

  And it was hard to be insulted about being accused of being stagnant, when Deeks seemed determined to fling human society into full-scale regression into one of its darkest periods.

  Aiden let the other captain's defiant words hang uncomfortably in the air for half a minute or so, while the bound prisoners shifted uncomfortably in their bonds. “Your name, sir?” he finally asked. When the man simply glared in response, he smiled. “Very well, how about I tell you. You're Captain Igniel Jorosh, world of birth Gerrin 1. You served in the Movement's Third Fleet during the war and afterwards was hired on to captain this trading vessel. You never received any particular distinction in service, which should surprise no one given how easily I was able to incapacitate your ship.”

  Jorosh's glare intensified. “Is there a point to this, pirate?”

  He stared down at the man in contempt. “We knew all this before you ever jumped into this system. We knew you were coming here, where you'd open your rift, what route you would take to approach the spaceport. We, in fact, know everything we need to about you.”

  He crouched, bringing his face closer to that of the Fleetfoot's captain. “Which is why your defiance is useless, since we don't need your cooperation.” After pausing a beat he continued grimly. “But you might want to be cooperative for your own sake, to improve the situation you find yourselves in.”

  To his credit, the man simply sneered. “All bluffs. You think I wouldn't recognize a notorious Stag pirate wearing full honors and pin a name on you, Captain Thorne?” He snorted. “Word is, you don't kill enemies who surrender.”

  Aiden's smile tightened. “Really? Because I thought the word is that that's one of the main reasons I'm wanted across the known universe. The Implacable? That actually happened, you know.”

  The Deek paled slightly, and uneasy murmurs spread among his crew. Which was good, because Aiden was, in fact, bluffing; aside from that instance with the Implacable and a few other rare and justifiable exceptions, the man was right that he avoided killing enemies who surrendered.

  He wasn't a Deconstructionist, after all.

  Jorosh deflated after a few moments, hanging his head. “What sort of cooperation do you want?”

  There we go. It was depressingly easy to make Deeks fold once you started applying pressure. Hiding his satisfaction, Aiden straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. “Let's start with the location and code for this ship's safe. From there we'll move on to the Fleetfoot's command codes, and the account information for your patron company. Then, if we have time, we'll start going over your private account codes.”

  * * * * *

  Unsurprisingly, the crew of the Deek ship were far more willing to give up the information for their ship's corporate account than they were their own private accounts. That took a bit more leaning.

  Aiden left that up to Fix, since the combat android would probably be more intimidating in an interrogation anyway. Especially when he loudly gave it some scary sounding orders before walking out of the galley with Ali in tow.

  He'd need to send her off to start downloading the ship's logs and analyzing the data from them, but first things first. “You did a routine sweep of this ship. Find anything interesting?”

  The companion hesitated. “There was one thing,” she admitted. “Another person aboard, not listed on a crew or passenger manifest.”

  Aiden blinked. Deeks weren't usually known for smuggling, although they were known for human trafficking. He frowned at the obvious conclusion. “Let me guess . . . listed as cargo?”

  Ali nodded, perfect features twisted in revulsion; with her core priorities to put the welfare of humans above all other considerations, she had a particularly dim view of slavery. One Aiden strongly shared. “And being carried in a stasis pod,” she confirmed.

  Well, that was something. “Show me.” Ali nodded and led him down the corridor, towards the Deek ship's aft cargo bay.

  Stasis pods had become obsolete tens of thousands of years ago, with the discovery and then refinement of rift travel. But even now they weren't wholly useless, since they allowed for the most efficient means of transporting prisoners.

  Or storing them long-term.

  To be honest, Aiden wouldn't have said no to freeing someone the Deeks were holding in long-term incarceration, for fighting on the wrong side of the war just under ten years ago. He could invite a freed Stag prisoner to join his crew, which would definitely be a plus since right now it was pretty much just him and a bunch of robots and Ishivi; all the other Stag loyalists aboard the Last Stand had long since either died in battle or deserted, and he keenly missed their presence.

  It went without saying that, with the obvious exception of Ali, none of his crew was particularly good company.

  But hoping for a long-term Stag prisoner was unlikely, considering the fate of so many other Preservationists after the end of the war. Which was why he wasn't too disappointed with what he found when his companion led him into the half-empty cargo bay, to the stasis pod tucked in among the other cargo near the back.

  As soon as he got close enough to see through the faceplate of the stasis pod, he discovered that rather than a grizzled veteran of the wars, the prisoner was a young woman who looked to be in her early twenties. Hope sprang eternal, and it was possible she was a Stag who'd been in stasis all this time, but it didn't seem likely.

  Of course, whoever she was, it was hard to be too disappointed in her appearance.

  It would be a lie to call her the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, since that distinction easily went to Ali. No surprise, whe
n he'd customized the adult companion specifically to his own preferences. And while Belix creeped him out and he would've sooner tried to be intimate with a viper, he couldn't argue about the Ishivi's sculpted, aristocratic loveliness.

  But the prisoner's delicate features and striking reddish-blond hair were impossible to ignore, stirring an almost paternal protectiveness in him. It was hard to believe she could've been incarcerated for some crime. Especially since, knowing what he did about the Deeks, the alternative was far more likely.

  “What's her story?” he asked.

  Ali inspected the woman in the pod with open curiosity. “She's a Blank Slate . . . according to the ship's logs, the Fleetfoot's captain ordered her mind wiped 23 days ago. She is now designated as a slave, destined to be sold to a brothel on Delados 3.”

  Aiden spat off to one side in disgust. Deeks made such a big deal about how they didn't want their perfect society to be contaminated by humanity's tarnished past, and that's why they were determined to destroy all records and monuments of it.

  Then, the moment they'd completely erased all knowledge of the “inferior” phases of society leading up to the perfect apex they considered themselves to be, the first thing they did was bring back some of society's greatest evils, like mind wiping and slavery.

  It would be ironic if it wasn't so sickening. “Anything about her before the wipe?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  The companion shook her head. “No hits stand out in this ship's logs or on the Last Stand's databanks. They apparently grabbed her from the streets during a trade run to the colony world of Helios 4, discovered she had no family or other connections, decided she'd be valuable as a commodity and wiped her memories for convenience's sake.”

  Aiden looked at the lovely young woman's peaceful features. Helios 4 wasn't known to be the friendliest place, and there was no telling what sort of life she'd had before the mind wipe. But it was safe to say that if they'd taken her off the streets there, it hadn't been the most pleasant one.