[Zach]

"Beautiful..." Avia muttered, gazing at the forward viewscreen. Bubba laid beside her chair, grooming himself, seemingly unimpressed by the view.

The turquoise-blue world Thalassa, appropriately named after the Greek primordial goddess of the sea, was a water world, except small polar icecaps and a smattering of green archipelagos. Swirling white clouds overlaid multi-hued oceans like abstract art. But as terraform projects go, it was a financial disaster, long ago written off by the Sol Federation and sold to the Thalassa Investment Group, what locals called the Cartel. With so little dry land, legendary cyclone storms, lack of exploitable commodities, and remoteness from other Federation worlds, it supported only a few settlements.

But for those wishing to avoid Federation and Omni-Corp scrutiny, this was paradise.

Alpha Station first appeared as a dark dot above the planet, growing larger as we approached. Except for numerous points of light and ships connected to the docking gantries, it looked more like a pitted oblong rock. Once a mined out asteroid, it had been towed into geosynchronous orbit and repurposed as a space station. A high-tension cable tethered it to the planet below on which a space elevator rode, shuttling people and supplies.

"Can you trust this Arthur Ricter?" Avia asked, swiveling her chair to face me.

"Only so far," I answered. "But he is no fan of Omni-Corp." Once a talented engineer, his fiery ego clashed with corporate leadership, and they parted ways, and not at all amicably. He and Omni-Corp filed lawsuits against each other, which were eventually dropped on a tenuous agreement to leave each other alone.

I tapped my head. "I'm sure you checked him out with your computer brain."

Avia shrugged. "As much as I could. Data bandwidth through your long-range com is limited. Besides, the info-web is no substitute for actual human intuition."

"Regardless, we should be careful. Alpha Station is a seedy joint."

"I've been through places like that. I can handle myself."

"Yeah," I replied, nodding. "I chased you through a few of them." And she left more than a few digital trip wires behind for me.

"How are you going to explain my presence with you?"

"Hmm, you'll be my latest girlfriend. So, dial back your intelligence, and," I reached over and pinched her plain green t-shirt, "wear something sexy."

Good thing Avia's eyes couldn't actually shoot fire, or else I would have become a smoldering heap. "Really?" she huffed.

"Yeah. Otherwise, he will suspect you."

"You want me to be some ditzy bimbo?"

A smile grew on my face. "I'm sure you could pull it off."

Intensifying her glare, Avia's lips formed a heated retort, but instead, she blew out a breath. "Fine."

The dismissive way she said 'fine' made me think it was not. Besides, Avia agreed to that much too easily.

*****

Either by design or indifference, Alpha Station had no customs or immigration controls of any kind, so we strolled unhindered from the port, through the pressure isolation doors, and into the station main. 

Avia hacked into the security system. "Phfft!" she spat. "There's hardly any security at all. Half the sensors don't work, and the other half are not monitored."

"They have human-type security monitoring," I noted.

As we weaved through a sparse crowd, a blue-uniformed security guard with a stun-stick dangling from his belt followed us with narrowed eyes, but then stifled a yawn and looked away. Apparently, we were not suspicious enough to warrant attention.

"True, but they only care about business disruption."

"And that's why there are so many shady characters here. Who knows, there might even be a dangerous Aberrant?"

Avia put hands to her cheeks and dropped her jaw in an exaggerated melodramatic style that dripped with sarcasm. "Oh, no! Not one of them!"

This place had changed little in ten Earth-standard years since I tread here. We walked along the same scuffed white decks under smoothed rock ceilings supported by curved white arches, giving it a cave vibe. A middle-placed dotted line separated crowd movement into two orderly directions. We passed several huge carved-out caverns, niches they called them, with small public parks, hydroponic greenery, and branches to dwelling apartments. Other niches housed shops and light industry.

In still others, bright holographic signage advertised restaurants and coffee shops, or more sordid businesses like drug dens or sex parlors. You could get just about anything you wanted if you had enough credits. Avia hardly took notice as we passed.

Mostly, the Cartel looked the other way as long as you paid your fees and didn't disrupt commerce. The only non-economic crime expressly forbidden was human trafficking and murder. Fraud or contract breach were serious punishable offenses, but more personal crimes were not, as long as you cleaned up the mess.

During my rebellious, headstrong youth, I came here as part of Red Caste. That is, before I figured out the resistance was just as corrupt as the society they protested, and just before I was arrested. I had always wondered if they gave me up to the authorities.

As we passed a station information viewscreen, I glanced at the clock. Still nearly an hour until the meeting time. "I'm going to scope out the tavern before Arthur gets there."

"Well, you're already too late. He is sitting with another man, his logistics manager Derek, who I think is also a lover by the way they act, and that they share the same one-bedroom cabin."

I stopped and turned toward Avia. "I thought the tavern didn't have any security monitors?"

"They don't. So, I hacked into all the personal com-viewers there," she answered. "Oh, so you know, Arthur is prepared for trouble. There are two brawny men, probably armed, that work for him — one by the bar and the other beside the entrance. I sent pictures to your com-viewer."

"Wow. You did all that just now?"

"Easy. And by the way, your friend has a lucrative business smuggling illegal tech, some he builds himself. There is a shipment of high-tech surveillance equipment going out later today. I sent you his balance sheet."

I let out a faint whistle as I scrolled through my com-viewer. "You are good."

"Yes, I am," Avia said with a sly smile. "And don't you forget it." Thumbing toward the market hall, she continued, "I'll have to pick up some things for the girlfriend act. I already purchased them with your expense account credits."

I held my hands up. "Really, you don't have to--"

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head with a smile that left me uneasy. "This is important, and I need to be convincing as your girlfriend. Although, I'm not sure I can pretend to be that desperate."

"Hey!" I responded, pointing to myself. "Lots of women want me."

"Maybe the clueless ones." Avia scoffs, and her derisive laugh wounded me. "Just don't come on to any other unfortunate women. I'm the jealous type."

I smirked. "So, you want me all to yourself?"

That earned an eyeroll. Then, putting on a sly grin, Avia strutted away in her green t-shirt and black leggings, shaking her platinum-colored hair back and forth. She's up to something...

The Desperado Tavern had the look of an ancient American-west saloon, starting with the swinging fake-wood half-doors at the entrance. The place was busy with all sorts of patrons, dressed from business formal, to scruffy, to barely anything at all. Many sat on stools along a polished bar, staffed by a mix of android and human bartenders in white aprons. Barmaids in tight old-western themed outfits deftly balanced trays of intoxicating beverages, weaving between people and tables. Holographic dancers gyrated on a round center stage to music that barely rose above the crowd din.

The tavern was appropriately named, containing all sorts of villainy, at least according to Federation standards. No doubt, many illegal and illicit deals were made here. But despite the shady characters, a kind of detente prevailed. Sure, heated arguments happened and fights broke out, but killing was rare. It helped that weapons were checked at the entrance by mountainous bouncers — although many hid weapons, just in case, like the palm stunner stuffed in my boot — but mostly it was the heavy-handed enforcement consequences by the Cartel. Not that they cared about victims, just that murder was bad for business. 

Standing just inside, I spotted Arthur's hired goons, just where Avia said they would be. Next, I eyed Arthur sitting in a corner booth.

Arthur had aged little, probably the result of regenerative treatments, and sported a signature artistically trimmed dark hair and beard. He wore a simple black t-shirt and cargo pants, something an engineer might wear. When he worked for my uncle years ago, my rebellious nature made us kindred spirits. Derek, a thinner man with bushy blonde hair and a long face, sat close beside Arthur.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Arthur exclaimed with a widening smile. "Is it little Thaddeus Zachariah Welde, rebel of the elite?" As I slid into the booth, he signaled a passing barmaid. "A mug of your best ale for my old friend."

"It's been a while," I said, grinning.

"Last I knew, Zach, you were serving time as a Hunter."

"Well, I met my quota, and I'm a free man now." My eyes scanned the barmaid's ample cleavage as she returned with a frothy mug. I took a sip. "Hmm, this is good."

"Life is good here, especially being away from Omni-Corp." Arthur tipped his head toward his companion. "This is my friend and business partner, Derek."

"Arthur told me so much about you," Derek said, extending a hand, "and many of your adventures."

"Well, we were two thorns in my uncle's side."

"I am curious, Zach," Arthur said. "Why did you want to meet me so urgently?"

Taking another swig, I settled back into the cushioned booth. "What do you know about Project Asclepius?"

Arthur frowned as a shadow fell over his face. After a moment, he said, "Derek, would you go check on the shipment?"

"Everything is in order--"

"Please."

After a momentary glare, Derek slid out and disappeared out the tavern's swinging doors.

"What is your interest in that?" Arthur asked with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"I presume you are aware of the project's dark side?"

"I've heard." Arthur's eyes shifted side-to-side, confirming he had more knowledge than just hearing about it. Then accusing eyes bored into mine. "Is this some sort of entrapment? Did your uncle send you?"

"No--"

"You know I am under a non-disclosure agreement, and let me tell you, the repercussions are more than just legal." With a wave of Arthur's hand, his two muscle-men stood upright and took a few steps closer, dark eyes glaring with not-so-subtle menace. "Have you turned corporate, boy?"

"I'm not here to trap you," I responded, raising my hands. "Just want to stop it."

"Really?" Arthur huffed. "And just how would you do that?"

"I have a plan."

"You've changed, boy," he said, shaking his head. "You've sucked up to Omni-Corp."

I gulped down the nervous bile that rose in my throat. This was not going so well...

But then a shrill female voice cut through both the crowd noise and the tension. "Zachy, where are you?"

A tingle crawled up my spine as I turned toward the source.

Oh. My. God.

There she was, peering through the crowd from the tavern entrance — pink Avia in dazzling glory: pink streaked platinum hair tied into high twin ponytails, pink lip stain, pink crop top, tight pink miniskirt, and pink knee-high boots.

As our eyes met across the tavern, I cringed.

"Eeee! There you are!" Avia squealed. She sauntered my way with exaggerated hip swings, dragging dozens of amused eyes with her. Upon reaching our booth, she jumped up into my lap, legs kicking out to the side, and placed a slobbery kiss on my cheek. "I looked allll over for my Zachy-poo," she exclaimed in a high-pitched voice for all to hear. 

"Umm, you were supposed to wait on the ship," I stammered.

She pouted out a pink lower lip and crossed her arms. "But I was soooo lonely in bed without my sweet cuddle bear. Besides, you promised to take me shopping."

I drew my eyebrows down and glared at her, frowning. Leave it to Avia to take this over the top.

"Awww, look at the sad face," Avia said in a baby voice. Reaching to my lips, she pinched the corners of my mouth and tugged them upward. "Let's turn this frown into a smile, shall we? Isn't a happy face so much better, Zachy-poo?"

The amusement shown on Arthur's face morphed into rapturous laughter, and he slapped the table. "Yes, Zachy-poo. Let's make a happy face." Laughter roared again as embarrassment heated my cheeks. With mocking grins, his goons retreated.

Avia turned toward Arthur, widening her eyes. "Zachy, you haven't introduced me to your friend." She extended a hand, fingers turned down. "Hiiii, I'm Barbee. Spelled with two e's, like a honeybee."

"Arthur," he responded, gently grasping her hand. "An unexpected pleasure to meet you, Barbee."

"Yeah, at my expense," I muttered to myself.

Arthur took a deep breath as his chuckles faded away. "Perhaps I was wrong about you, Zach. You haven't changed much at all." He leaned back in the booth. "I'll give you what I know about Project Asclepius, including the location. But I'm not doing you any favors. The security is tighter than a gnat's arsehole and you'll never get in."

"Oh, I have a special advantage," I replied with a grin. Pink Avia yelped as I reached down and pinched her pink arse.

"What are you talking about, Zachy-poo?" She asked, tilting her head such that her ponytails flopped. A slight narrowing of eyes told me of her displeasure, but two can play this game.

"Just business, sweet buns. Don't you worry your pretty little head."

Arthur chuckles as he scooted out from the booth and stood up. "Come to my office."

I knew the arse pinch was going to cost me, but I didn't expect payback to come so quickly. As Avia slid out, glaring at me, she stepped down on my foot. Faced away from Arthur, I grimaced and tightened my lips to not cry out while she ground her heel on my toes.

"Are you okay, my honey-snookems?" she cooed, tilting her head.

"Uh huh," I replied in a strained voice until she released the pressure on my toes. "Now, you be a good girl while I go with Arthur."

Avia drew her eyebrows down and pouted. "Being good is no fun."

Arthur let out a snort. "Oh, please, Barbee, do come with us. Your honey-snookems would miss you."

"I know, right?" Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she pinched my cheek.

Avia grasped my arm as we left the tavern and walked down the passageway, dodging other people along the way. While Arthur took the lead, I bent my head down and took in her swaying backside. "You know, Avia," I whispered, "you have nice legs. You should wear this outfit on the ship."

"Leave me out of your fantasies, Zach," she whispered back.

"Too late for that."

Within a few minutes, we ducked through a rounded hatch into Arthur's office, a small room off an electronics workshop. He cleared clutter from a gray plas-steel desk and activated a holographic keyboard on the empty space. I sat down on the only guest chair while Avia stood beside me.

"I'll load everything you need on a memory crystal," Arthur mutters as he pushed a clear thumb-sized module into a data-port at the desk edge. Then his fingers raced across the virtual keyboard while file transfer icons swirled in mid-air above.

I turned my eyes up to Avia's face, and she winked in reply. But then, with a faint gasp, her facial expression completely changed — mouth falling open and eyes widening, focusing far away.

'What?' I mouthed to her.

"A Federation frigate in docking now," she said out loud, "and a station security alert was just issued. For us."

Rage boiling, I jumped up and leaned forward, grabbing Arthur's shirt collar. "You bastard! What have you done?"

Arthur lifted his hands and replied in an airy voice, "Nothing! It's not me. I would never--" His eyes shot over to Avia, who was now completely out of Barbee character. "How do you know...? You... You're Aberrent?"

"That's cybernetic enhanced," I spat. Turning to Avia, I asked, "Are they coming our way?"

She shook her head. "Can't tell. Too many security monitors are offline."

Confirming my fear, two blue-uniformed security officers burst through the hatch with stunner guns raised. "Hands up!" one of them ordered.

I stared down the barrels of two hand-guns held by two serious-looking Cartel enforcers. These weapons only fired stun bolts, so they wouldn't kill us. But I knew from experience how uncomfortable that would be, like grabbing a bare high-voltage wire.

Not how I wanted this day to go.