Secrets
Oh, look, it's triangles! Casey and Dev take a new job, Case bares her soul, and the ship almost explodes. Again.
Oh, look, it's triangles! Casey and Dev take a new job, Case bares her soul, and the ship almost explodes. Again.
How are we this far into the year without giving you some trickster pornography?! Well, let's fix that! You know what to expect, folks :P But Casey at least gets some character development here, because even jackals have a backstory? I guess? She's good at heart. Thanks to Spudz for smoothing out the rough spots, and to
Luperkaios for serving as paid jackal consultant on this project.
Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute -- as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.
"Secrets," ** ** by Rob Baird
"And you said it's a fast ship, right?"
Devin jerked with his thumb to the freighter behind him. Long Tall Sally was emblazoned on the nose; the paint job was only a few months old, and already heat-scored. "Look at it."
"It looks like a piece of junk."
"It's a Sierra model 254. The kind of ship they used to call a 'blockade runner.' A stock 254 will do fifteen gees of linear acceleration. We get her to twenty. At lightspeed, we ran the Long Tall Sally from Winterhaven to Delta Carrolia in forty-eight hours."
"That's impossible," his guest said. But the red panda clearly thought that, while Dev was boasting, the boast had been rooted in substantial truth. "You can be on Molon Dohar in two standard weeks?"
"Easy. Three thousand a container, and your cargo's as good as there."
"Very well." The red panda nodded. "I think we can deal."
As a 'blockade runner,' the Long Tall Sally's cargo area would just barely fit the containers, and Dev figured he'd have to reorganize some of the space to fit. Better to do that before my pilot gets back, the coyote decided.
He was halfway into his cargo-loading exosuit when he heard her voice calling from the end of the cargo ramp. "Coyote!"
"Hey, Case. Got us a job."
The jackal made her way into the cargo area; her broad, tawny ears were perked. "Yeah?"
"Thirty-eight containers of self-sealing stem bolts, bound from here to Molon Dohar. I figure at Dohar, we can maybe aim to pick up some Moloni goods; take 'em back to the Core."
"Yeah," the jackal said. She wasn't listening. Devin felt his heart sink, even before she continued. "It's not on our way, though. We're going to Tevanista."
Dev flattened his ears and stepped out of the exosuit. "Tevanista?"
"It's a B-class new settlement, about--"
"I know where it is, Case. It's past the border in the Irdin Neutral Zone, two parsecs into the Okarahi-Atana Sector. Fucking nowhere, in other words." The name 'Tevanista' stuck out in his recent memory, though it wasn't for any good reason he could think of. There was nothing there. "I'm talking a hundred and fourteen thousand credits for these bolts, Case. Did you actually get us a job?"
"Did I ever! Tevanista is a Confed colony, sort of... it used to be in TC space, but the new treaty of agreement with the Irdin put them in the INZ. So the Star Patrol and the Irdin Galactic Navy won't intervene."
He was getting a bad feeling about where she might be going. "Intervene in what?"
"Tevanista's under blockade."
The planet, Casey explained, had rich veins of kaisenium, enough to saturate a market dominated by criminal syndicates. Refined kaisenium was a superlative fertilizer--the preferred medium of a dozen different drug precursors--and the syndicates clearly didn't want competition.
Maybe that's where I heard about it, Dev thought. They have some kind of planetary shield, right? But the New Families are strong enough to interdict any trade in or out of the system...
"You haven't said where we come in."
"There's been an outbreak of Yksinkerta, the wasting disease. They can't produce the treatment there--it needs to be smuggled in. Past a blockade. And so here I am, thinking... you know, they used to call ships like ours blockade runners..."
He shut his eyes and counted to ten. "Case. You're really that bored?"
"It's the right thing to do. Will ya at least talk it over with my contact? Maybe he'll help you see reason, 'yote."
The question was rhetorical: he had no choice in the matter. But he agreed, anyway, and sat quietly while the jackal went to fetch her 'contact.' There were three of them: a rabbit, a stag, and a young doe clinging to his side.
"Jan Blanton," the rabbit said, holding out his paw to shake. "Dr. Marcel Coats, and his daughter Sandy."
"All from Tevanista," Casey added. "They snuck out to find help. They found us."
"Ms. Carr said that you were good people," Jan started, carefully.
"Did you believe her?" Casey jabbed his side, but Dev held firm--lying was a bad foot to get off on, anyway. "We're just businessmen, Jan. That's all."
"I'm a businessman, too," the rabbit insisted. "I have a repair shop. All I want is to get back to it. But I was the only one with a nimble enough ship to evade the weapons of our occupiers. Here at the station, everyone said you were the fastest cargo ship, with the most daring pilot."
"There's daring, and then there's suicidal."
"Suicidal would be staying on our planet."
Dr. Coats pried his daughter away from his side--she couldn't have been much older than five or six. "Give daddy a little space, sweetheart, okay?" She nodded and slunk away wordlessly. "The plague is getting worse. Thousands have died already."
"Quarantines have only bought time--it's insect-born on Tevanista, apparently." Jan twisted the knife: "Dr. Coats ordered the capital city locked down. Where he lives. Where his wife lives. It might have doomed them all."
Devin gritted his teeth. "What's the offer?"
"Twenty thousand credits in advance, eighty on delivery. I've already brokered acquiring the vaccines--we just need a ship. Your ship. I know you're an honorable man. I'll stay here... it would only be the vaccines and passage for these two."
Casey's mind was made up. Dev pointed out that, if they were traveling to a quarantined world in restricted territory, they'd need to forge the ship's cargo manifest and the transit logs... and the jackal smiled.
Right. That's why she asked me to talk to them.
He made her promise to at least have a six-pack of something decent waiting for him and the inevitable headache he got from high-sync work in META. The coyote might have been one of the net's most-skilled hackers--or its most-addicted junkie--but there were costs.
I know. She kissed his nose, and left the coyote to take a seat and connect the network link to the port wired into his skull. There was a flash of light, then of color beyond what puny biological vision could detect... then darkness, before the world reassembled itself and he was staring at his paws.
Mostly.
Devin's avatar was randomly generated. He'd never seen the tigress in the mirror beforehand, and had never heard himself called 'Marianne Johnston'--but no matter. The name was already second-nature, for the twenty or thirty minutes it would last.
META was pure data: his set alone was what converted it into the cityscape before him. He found the metaphor helpful: roads connecting the discrete bits of information, activity mapped with the bustle of pedestrians. Cops.
His mind visualized the transit records database as a library. Not a clean, modern one--it was old, and dusty, and his subconscious interpreted the weak security as a single librarian sleeping near the entrance. They didn't notice Devin quietly make his way past them.
A pair of gloves appeared over his paws--the better to keep even a trace of the tigress's fur from contaminating the book he was about to steal. If the authorities found anything, they'd probably trace it back to 'Marianne'--but who knew how airtight that identity would prove to be?
Long Tall Sally: arrived 66780. Customs duties: C1143.27, paid in full. Declared cargo: computer parts.
Next to that was a stamp. In the real world, the signature was likely to be some biometric imprint of a docking official. Within META, his mind treated it as an ornate seal, finely detailed to make replicating it impossible.
Nearly impossible. A floating, amorphous blue avatar winked into existence next to him. "I need this stamp cloned," Dev said to the virtual assistant.
"Of course, ma'am. I'm analyzing the details now. It will take some time to synthesize a new signature."
"Fast as you can," Dev ordered. In the meantime, he wrote a new exit entry for the Long Tall Sally, listing her destination as Kifrea and her cargo as... damn it, Casey, the things I do for you. The coyote rolled his eyes, and declared her hold full of 'self-sealing stem bolts.'
His assistant was still hard at work. As long as he was in the library--with its old, insecure link to the rest of the META network--he poked around to see what else he could find. Sure enough, Jan Blanton wasn't lying. He'd founded a tractor-repair company thirty years ago, and moved it to Tevanista ten years after that.
Just in case, Dev snapped out a magnifying glass and peered closer at the documentation. There weren't any signs of forgery; either Jan was on the level or he'd hired a better hacker than Devin.
So. He's on the level, in that case.
Dr. Coats proved more difficult. There was nobody by that name in the official emigration records. Tevanista wasn't officially part of the Terran Confederation--they'd relinquished control by treaty--and the colony's records weren't up to date. But the most recent census also had no Marcel Coats.
He finally found a picture taken at a conference on Tevanista with the deer's face visible... him, and a hundred other faces. The conference attendees were listed, though. Dev went through them one at a time, ruling out possibilities.
"Martin McIntosh" was, in all likelihood, also a fake name--but it was the name he went by on Tevanista, which made it good enough. He was a government official, working for the defense department. Dev's subconscious translated a trove of files and their poor attempt at encryption as nothing more than an overstuffed, sealed manila envelope.
He slid it open with his claw, read quickly, and groaned with the very first document. The actual forgery was done by the time he'd finished going through the rest of the papers; he logged out and went to make Casey see reason.
The jackal wasn't having it: "the plague is still real, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"And we're still carrying medicine, aren't we?"
Dev had been responsible enough to look inside the containers and double-check the contents himself. "Yes. But who knows what happens afterwards? He's a weapons scientist, Casey."
Slouching against the wall of their cabin, the jackal looked more scornful than usual. "So? Let's assume you're right. Coats snuck out to find something for the planetary defense."
"I can guess what it is from his research. A distributed beam collimator--a way to combine their orbital network into an incredibly powerful cannon. He was meeting somebody here with the AI update they'd need to manage processing everything."
"Mm-hm."
"Case. He'd be turning Tevanista itself into a gun."
She shrugged. "And? It's not like they can move a fucking planet, coyote. They bust a couple of pirates--predatory, worthless vultures, I might add, so fuck 'em--and the planet's safe. That honestly sounds like we're the heroes."
"And is Star Patrol gonna see it that way if they find out we were involved?"
That, at least, gave her pause. She thought it over and then, at last, pointed out that they didn't even know Dev's speculation was accurate. This was true. They settled on a compromise: Casey reminded Dr. Coats that they wanted to stay out of trouble, and Coats consented to letting Devin scan his personal belongings.
Alone in the man's cabin, while Casey prepared the ship for takeoff and Sandy kept her company, the coyote was blunt. "I looked into your history. I know who you are."
The buck didn't seem all that surprised. "They said you were a good hacker. We don't have those on Tevanista. Not many computer scientists."
"You're working on the planet's defense. Arming them."
"We're being throttled by that blockade. Do you blame me? Wouldn't you do the same if it was your home? I don't apologize for that." He lowered his eyes. "Of course, I don't blame you for your... paranoia. You're worried, aren't you? For you. For your mate."
"Case can handle herself." Devin was finding that Coats' equipment looked clean. The logs on his personal computer didn't take long to decrypt. "You met with an AI specialist here."
He nodded. "That's right."
"The key to upgrading your orbital defense network. The software you need."
"Clever--I mean that as no insult. That's right. Mr. Blanton needed government money to make the purchase of the vaccine. I saw an opportunity to finish my own work. Only... it didn't happen that way. The AI was useless to me. It was all a waste of time. I suppose that's good, right? Nothing to threaten this mission. I'm clean. It's better that way."
Something bothered Dev, though he couldn't put his finger on it. "You're lying, but I don't know what about."
"Do you want me to tell you?"
"If you're offering."
"I don't think it's better," the deer said, his voice low and dark. "We needed it. The vaccine just buys time. And if I'd gotten what I came for, I'd feel no guilt about hiding it from you. I don't care about your reputation."
Devin admired his chutzpah, and as far as the coyote could tell Coats wasn't smuggling anything in his personal belongings. He chuckled, and handed the computer back over. "At least we know where we stand."
And with the coyote's mind at ease, they got underway. He settled into the routine of their hyperlight travel for the short journey ahead--a handful of shifts, and the maintenance they entailed. In between, relaxing, he idly wondered what he could've missed--but nothing occurred to him.
***
Excitement had to come from other sources; fortunately, they had a jackal on hand to provide it. "Dev, get up here."
The coyote shut his eyes tightly. The intercom light in their cabin was still on; the line was open. He put his paws over his ears and pushed down, hard.
Not hard enough: "Dev. Get the hell up here."
Hard to know what was on the jackal's mind, but she wasn't about to leave him alone. He pulled on his jeans and workboots and stomped forward to the cockpit.
Casey had strapped herself in to the pilot's seat; she only turned briefly, looking at him over her shoulder. "Nice look. Your shirt in the wash?"
"I was trying to sleep. Was."
"Hey, remember that run before last? When you patched up the hyperdrive motivator?"
Dev didn't like where the jackal was going. "Five runs ago, you mean? That one?"
Casey waved her paw. "A couple runs ago, anyway."
"The one where I told you we needed to put into a real maintenance bay to get it fixed? The one I said would last for three jumps, four at most?"
She twisted around in the pilot's chair, scowling at him. "Your memory is sufficiently jogged, I take it from your impeccable recall?"
"I remember the patch, yeah. What's up?"
"I think it's starting to go." She dipped her head to indicate one of the ship's displays.
Devin leaned forward and double-checked the numbers. "Yeah, could be. This is about what we were seeing last time. You know--when I put a temporary fix on it"
"Can you patch it again?"
"Probably. Yes."
"In hyperspace?"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Not a chance in hell. Drop out and I'll get my stuff ready."
"You're sure we have to? How long will it take?"
"Case, you know the kind of power the main reactor puts out. We have to drop back into normalspace, trust me. Give me four hours and I'll have something together--but next time we put in, you are getting this fixed."
Casey scowled again. "Four hours..."
"Yeah, sorry to fuck with your punctuality." He rolled his eyes and left to get dressed and find his repair equipment.
One of the advantages of the starship's age was that most of her components were fairly easy to work on. Even the hyperdrive motivator, which was robust enough that it took a jackal doing her very goddamn best to fuck it up.
Unfortunately, she tried it often. Devin hadn't pressed the issue in the cockpit because they'd had good reasons each time to put off the repair.
Once it had been ungodly expensive. Once they'd needed to leave in a hurry when a new courier job came in. Once they'd found a seller with a good price, but in a shiny, Star Patrol-approved yard. Somebody there might get the idea to look into the ship's records, and neither of them wanted that...
Besides, he didn't mind working with his hands. Casey loved flying; the mechanics of the ship's hardware seemed to be at best a distraction and at worst an imposition on her more reckless desires. She generally left him alone.
Four hours. He might have been a little optimistic; the jerry-rigged couplings were badly worn. It was kind of a gamble, in that sense. He could do the job quickly, if he thought that Casey would actually find a way to get the ship fixed the next time they docked.
Or he could learn from experience and buy himself some margin of error. Devin didn't have to think twice. He set his computer up to play some music and started pulling out the power relays for the motivator, one at a time.
Four hours after they'd dropped out, almost to the second, Casey paged him on the intercom. "Coyote. What's the situation, over?"
"Gettin' there. I'm gonna try and fix that bug we had with the feed balancer while I'm at it and the drive's already de-energized."
"How long? Over."
The balancer was disassembled in front of him. "Dunno? An hour or two. It's not a tough job."
"You said four hours," she reminded him.
"Yeah? And it took a bit more work than I thought. Christ, Case, get off my goddamn back."
"Language, coyote. Out."
"Fuck off, Roger Wilco," he grumped; the intercom was already dead.
Something had gotten into the jackal, though he didn't know what. He was hard-pressed even to guess--Casey wasn't the sentimental type, and as far as he knew she had no particular connection to Tevanista. Or to her passengers.
The jackal had no qualms about pushing the Long Tall Sally to the limits of the freighter's capabilities. She saw nothing wrong with a bit of smuggling, now and then. She didn't stand on the principle of paying their full customs fees if she didn't have to...
But this job threatened to get them shot at, and Casey was ordinarily averse to that sort of risk. She didn't even know how to use the ship's defensive turrets--that was Devin's job--and he couldn't figure out why she was willing to do so now. And for Tevanista, of all places!
Perhaps she'd gotten restless.
That was enough to worry him. When Casey got restless, she was liable to make some poor choices. He knew he wouldn't be fortunate enough that her solution might be anything as simple as alcohol or buying some trinket she'd regret later.
No, it was far more likely that she'd decide they needed to check out a black hole close up again. Or sneak into a Star Patrol depot to salvage parts off an old hulk. Or...
He sighed, and set down the tool he was using to calibrate the balancer. Or she might decide to pick a fight with some criminal syndicates. Stir things up a bit. Get the old jackal blood pumping.
That was probably it. This conclusion added another half-hour to his maintenance work: the coyote decided it would be prudent to double-check the backup power systems and the shield generators.
That done, he sealed everything back up and went forward to the cockpit. Casey was still there. She was not, however, in the pilot's seat: that was occupied by the fawn, who held the Long Tall Sally's control column in both diminutive paws.
"Uh..."
Casey grinned. "Don't worry, coyote. The controls are locked out. Are we ready to jump?"
"Yeah, should be. I meant what I said about getting it fixed for real, though. Don't try to f... screw around with something like that."
"Sure, Dev." She patted the coyote's shoulder and then turned her attention to the ship's controls. "Time for us to get going again. How does that sound, Sandy?"
"Yes!"
"Thought so! Here's what you gotta do, okay?" The jackal reached around the girl, and activated the ship's controls. "Pull back real gentle. Yep, like that."
"You're letting her fly the ship?"
"Why not?"
"You don't even let me fly the ship."
"You can't," she pointed out, then bent down so she was muzzle-level with the deer girl. "Look at that, huh? The stars are moving. Let's just see here..." She tapped a few commands into her computer, and guided Sandy's attention to a glowing circle projected on the viewscreen.
"What's that?"
"That's where we're going... sort of. Keep holding back on the stick. Now turn it just a little to the right. The... no, the right. This right." She tapped the girl's paw. "You've got it."
Sandy overshot the indicator, and then did it again on her hasty overcorrection--of course, it was her first time. Casey had to step in for the final, more precise maneuvers.
The circle turned green, and lit up brightly. "Perfect. Dev, get ready to jump." She announced it over the intercom as well, for Dr. Coats' benefit.
The coyote took his station and buckled his harness, as a precaution. "Did she do the calculations, too?"
"No, Dev. Of course not."
"Yes!" Sandy chirped again.
Devin swiveled the engineering station's chair around. "Case..."
Casey left Sandy in the pilot's seat and took the auxiliary controls next to it. "It'll be fine, coyote," she said, starting to run through the FTL checklist.
"You did do the plot, right?"
"Motivator's online... power's good..."
"Right?"
"Of course, Devvy."
"Mrs. Carr let me see the big map, and I found out how to go home," Sandy added. "There were a lot of big numbers."
"Traitor," the jackal muttered. "Lightspeed in three... two... one..." And before he could say anything else, she pulled the lever down to engage the hyperdrive, and the stars disappeared. "See, Devvy? What did I tell you?"
"I have so many questions."
"Later, coyote."
She used the tone of voice that said she would only become more insufferable if he didn't let the topic drop. It had to wait until they were well underway, after she'd put the Long Tall Sally back on autopilot and joined him in their cabin. He'd been in bed, half-dozing, but got to his feet when he heard the door opening. "Casey."
"Thanks for your help with the engine, coyote. The patch'll hold?"
"What the fuck was that?"
"Will the patch hold?"
"It'll be fine, sure. At least until we can set down."
The jackal grinned, reaching over to give him a pat. "Good. What about the auxiliary power?"
"And the isolators, and the deflector shields, and the targeting alignment. I checked all of it. Do I get to ask what's going on now?"
"Nah?"
He growled. "Start talking."
She narrowed her eyes and straightened herself up to full, if unimposing height. "Or what, coyote? Yeah, that's what I thought. It's fine, okay? I'm being prepared."
"Who's the girl?"
Casey ignored him, turning away and starting to take off her jacket.
"You know 'em? You know these mopes?"
"No."
"Then what the fuck are you doing? Letting that kid fly the ship?"
"Oh, it's fine. It was fine," she repeated, tossing her jacket towards its hook on the wall. "I let her play around with the astrogation map, that's all. I'm not crazy."
This was, of course, a debatable premise. More than that, Devin started to doubt the explanation was as simple as her need for adventure. "But you're still... I don't even know. Is this some jackal... maternal thing?"
That was where she would roll her eyes, and find some way to insult him. Usually. This time, ominously, the offhand remark had drawn blood. "Shut up, Dev."
"It is? Do you even have a biological clock?"
She whirled, baring her teeth. "Shut the fuck up, Dev. She's like six. It's gotta be scary as hell out here all on her own. Not knowing what's going on back home, where her mom is, any of that... can you try to have a little bit of empathy?"
Devin tilted his head. "Me? What do these folks even mean to you?"
"Dev, just back off. It's a job, that's all."
"It's not just a job. We're gonna get shot at. You didn't even ask for hazard pay, I notice, and we're definitely gonna deserve it, considering what we're up against."
"We'll be fine."
"We might be," he said. "But who knows? Some of the ships the New Families have make Star Patrol look like amateurs."
"We've seen worse," she shot back. "We can't go back, anyway, so drop it. You think I can't evade a few mercenaries? Hell, it'll be fun."
"I didn't ask for it. You're putting my ass on the line, too, jackal, remember? I'm gonna be the one inhaling burnt engine components when something goes up. So if you're just, like, looking to adopt and got your weird jackal heart melted, you could've at least told me."
Casey growled deeply. "You fucking asshole."
"Will you at least tell me what's going on?"
"You already know what's going on!" she spat. "Fuck, why won't you just back off like I told you?"
"I don't know," he said, and ventured a careful guess. "This is... personal, somehow, isn't it? Not that you know them, but..."
"You're the fuckin' hacker," the jackal hissed. "Stop pretending you didn't pull my whole goddamn file the first chance you had."
The coyote's ears splayed and, taken by surprise, he blinked quickly. "I didn't!"
"God, you won't even--wait... you didn't?"
"No. I thought it would've gotten us off on the wrong foot. If you thought I was, I dunno... spying. Or like I didn't trust you. When we first met, I didn't know if you might be good enough to find out I'd done it, and... when I knew I'd be able to hide it from you, I didn't think I needed to go behind your back."
"You were worried about hurting my feelings?" She'd calmed down a little. At least enough to get her defense mechanisms back up. "Seems unlikely."
"I didn't know you very well. Also, we'd just stolen a couple million credits worth of starship. I didn't have much choice. Thought I might as well try giving you the benefit of the doubt."
Casey almost lowered her ears--he could see them twitch. "Huh. That was... kind of sweet of you."
"Like I said, I didn't know you very well."
She relaxed, and slumped down, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "Alright, fine. I guess I believe you."
"I'll take it, I suppose. So what's the story--you know this place?"
"Tevanista? Fuck, no, I'm not that backwater."
"Close, though, I bet." He'd never asked about her past. In their line of work, history was often best left buried. "Where'd you grow up?"
"Ugh. I can't believe I gotta tell you this shit. Fine. My parents were from an agricultural colony--Perryn. That's where I was born. Me, Tory, and my brother."
"You didn't really strike me as the farming type."
"When I was nine, the weather control system failed. Storms started getting worse... they asked for help, but Star Patrol always had something more important to do. So my parents sent me and Tory away. Tory was three. She doesn't remember anything."
"Did you grow up together?"
"Nah. Tory went to live with my grandparents on Ivinari. I already had a bit of a record, though. Go figure, right?"
She'd given him a wry grin, but Dev got the sense it was more defensive than anything else. He didn't take the bait. "They didn't want to take you?"
"Nope. I got bounced into the foster system when my host family figured they didn't actually need another kid. 'Specially not a delinquent jackal. I was in hyperspace being shuffled off to someone else when the last storm hit. You grew up with your parents, right? Had some place you called home..."
"Parents, yeah. Home?" He shook his head. "Mom had load-suit certs. We'd sign up on a freighter headed for one of those shitty, rundown break-bulk ports and if they needed help we'd stay. Dad knew META pretty good--good enough to make a few crates disappear when the dock crews weren't hiring mom. Eventually somebody would get wise and we'd start over."
"Okay, so that sucked, too. I ran away the last time when I was 14, 'cause it turned out I could fly and if you're running illegal stuff anyway it doesn't matter if your pilot is licensed--as long as she's crazy. Tory made it out okay; me... well... I mean, whatever, it's life. But that girl, Dev? Seeing her? She's got some place she belongs. She oughta get back there, 'cause... I dunno. 'Cause I never did."
"Well, shit. I didn't know any of that."
Casey scowled, though the effort was a little weaker than before. "Nah. But didn't you maybe just figure it was good enough to try to do something nice, for once?"
"You have to admit it's not exactly in character," the coyote pointed out. "Particularly... I mean, getting involved in all of this. The scientist is pretty... he's not clean."
"No, but he's a lot better than the goddamn New Families. Fuck those assholes, Dev. They got whatever it is coming to 'em."
"Let's say I agree. Did you even look at the tactical plans I sent you? If they change up their patrols even a little bit..."
Casey shrugged, then flopped on her back to stare at the ceiling of their cabin. "I know. If we come out of hyperspace and there's too much heat, we'll jump again. I got the trajectory precalculated and everything."
He had to hope that would be enough. The Long Tall Sally didn't have much of a chance against a well-armed opponent, and there was bound to be something that at least tried to fit the bill. He sat down carefully next to the jackal, who remained momentarily subdued.
"Sorry I called you an asshole."
"Sorry I ragged on you about the kid," he offered in turn. "Can we stop keeping things from each other?"
She turned to look at him. "You think I'm still keeping shit from you?"
"Just in general. We've been together a long time. I mean, for us. Mrs. Carr."
Casey smiled. "It was easier than trying to explain how this shit works to a kid, okay. We're not nothing."
"True."
The jackal reached over, brushing her fingers along his side. "We could act the part."
"If we didn't have passengers and questionable sound insulation," he countered. Most of the time it was just them and the cargo. This time, they didn't have that luxury.
They'd have to wait, though not that much longer. Tevanista lay ahead.
***
"Five minutes. Battle stations!"
Devin took his seat at the engineering console and fastened his harness. "Systems online. Ready deflector shields."
Dr. Coats entered the bridge, with Sandy close behind him. "Does your ship... have battle stations?"
"Nah. Just take a seat and get ready in case the ride is a little choppy or something."
"'Choppy'?" Dev shook his head. "Yeah, it might be. Three minutes, Case."
"Don't worry about my pessimistic copilot. We can handle whatever happens."
It wasn't a case of pessimism, just pragmatic understanding that they were one outdated freighter against an armada of hostile ships. The only advantage they were likely to be able to count on was the element of surprise.
"Dropping out of hyperspace in three... two... one... we've got company! Dev, shields."
"Shields up," he answered promptly, and called up the sensor information. Nine patrol ships were on an intercept course with the freighter. Nothing behind them; he angled the deflector shields to give them as much protection as he could manage.
The radio came on. "Attention, approaching freighter! This planet is under quarantine. Turn around immediately."
"Uh, hi guys," Casey asked. "Good to see you, too. Happy to comply, just wondering, uh--who authorized that quarantine?"
The pilot of the enemy patrol ship knew he was in for trouble and dropped the act. "None of your business. Drop your shields, disable your engines, and prepare to be boarded."
"Maybe next time," the jackal replied, and cut the transmission. Her paws went tight on the controls. "Remember everything I said about 'chop,' guys."
"They're opening fire."
"Warning shot?" Casey asked, hopefully.
A last-minute evasive roll spared them most of the damage, but some of the salvo still hit home. "PPCs. Medium power. Shields are holding, for now, but..."
"You're gonna tell me to keep us from--brace for impact!--letting them--"
The Long Tall Sally shuddered. "Yes! Keep them from doing that!"
Casey's paw left the control stick, working over the navigational computer in a blur, comparing it to the data from their sensors. "There's like... twenty-six ships between us and the planet. I can't evade all of them."
"Call it off," Devin said. Looking at the numbers alone, they were in trouble. The numbers didn't tell the whole story: some of the blockade's more muscular participants were warship-grade, and he had no faith in his ability to keep the freighter in one piece if they went toe-to-toe.
"We might be able to get through," she said, looking at the navigational plots--one eye on the computer, one on keeping the ship constantly moving. "If we can get between the light ships and that heavy mother..."
"Casey," Devin warned. Another impact drove the point home. "Deflector shields at sixty percent. That's just the light ones."
"Damn it. Yeah..." She growled, and hauled the ship into a turn away from the planet. "We'll have to try a different tactic. I'm running the FTL sequence."
"No!" Dr. Coats shouted. "You can't--you can't turn around."
"Either we turn around, or the ship gets there in pieces. Not like I'm just trying to be difficult, doc. We'd be in pieces, too."
He got up; Devin could see him reach for his pocket before the coyote could take action. He had a laser pistol out--one of the small, low-power models, but more than enough to put an end to the jackal. Oh, so that's what I missed, Devin realized. Packing heat was common on the frontier--he'd been guarding against subterfuge.
And Coats had skipped all of that. "Keep going."
"You don't really understand what I'm talking about here," Casey said. Her ear flicked at the sound of the pistol powering up. "Yeah? You think you can fly this damn ship, hotshot?"
"I'm willing to take the chance if you won't."
The jackal huffed, clenching her teeth, and slowly banked the ship back towards Tevanista. "Dev. I need auxiliary power."
Devin only turned from Casey and Dr. Coats reluctantly; he tried to keep the buck in his peripheral vision. "Auxiliary power is online. Don't get hit. Even if the shields stay up, we're gonna blow the couplers."
"I'll try." She pushed the throttle forward, and the Long Tall Sally leapt back towards their attackers like it had failed to learn a very important lesson in self-preservation.
And, to even the odds as best he could, Dev turned on the ship's defensive turrets. They wouldn't be as effective under remote control, but he didn't trust Dr. Coats enough to go to the gunnery station and leave the pair alone in the cockpit. "I got the repeaters up, Case."
"Noted." She was tense. "Incoming. Three fighters, two o'clock, high."
Devin held fire until the ships were only a hundred kilometers away. Only a few of his shots landed, and probably not enough to cause damage--but they pulled off their attack, spooked that the freighter had suddenly bared fangs.
"Good work, coyote. Now we've got--"
The whole ship rocked as though it had run aground. Devin looked at the numbers in a slight panic. "Direct hit from a--fuck, that's gotta be a K-beam. Deflectors are--"
Whatever was shooting at them got off another good one. The lights cut out, and in the second of darkness he heard Sandy's shrill, piercing scream.
It continued even after Devin brought the emergency power up and the lights returned. He had to raise his voice over the panicking fawn. "Casey!"
"Damage report?"
"Structural integrity's compromised. The shield emitter couplings are overloading. We can't take much more of this!"
The lights dropped again, and as the ship bucked Devin saw a shower of sparks illuminating Dr. Coats' silhouette. The buck lost his balance--falling backwards, the pistol flying...
When the lights came up, Coats was crumpled--dazed. Dev took his opportunity, pouncing for the deer and knocking him against the wall again before he could recover. He rolled the man over and snapped one of the flexible metal clamps he carried around his wrists.
Most of the time he only needed to keep parts of the ship together while Casey acted like a jackal. In this case, they served nicely for impromptu handcuffs, keeping the stag motionless even as he stirred, and his daughter ran to his side. "Daddy!"
"We're not in their firing line," Casey said. "At least. Maybe another minute. Christ--how is he?"
"I think he'll live. But we've gotta get out of here."
Coats had opened his eyes and was blinking muzzily. "Oh..."
"Daddy?" Sandy repeated.
"I'm sorry, honey," he murmured. "I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I had to put you through all this... you've been so helpful, and... we'll... it'll be over soon. I'm sorry we didn't get to go home, Sandy."
Casey looked over her shoulder at the three of them--Devin busy tying the stag's ankles together; Sandy hugging her father tightly.
"Oh, hell," the jackal said.
Devin looked over sharply. "What?"
"Get back to your station," she said. "We're going to have to--"
"Casey!"
"Station," she repeated. "This is gonna be close."
"Are you serious?" Of course she was serious; he was already taking his seat again, making sure his harness was nice and tight.
"How bad are the shields?"
"The emitters are fine. The distributors are completely saturated and the coupling system is... fuck, I think the starboard coupler might be cracked."
"What can you do about it?"
"Jump," he suggested, looking over the ship's battered systems. "I can... I can try to reroute it to the secondary systems, but..."
"Do it, then. I'm going get us as close as we can, hit zone five, and... cross my fingers."
He understood, theoretically, what the jackal was aiming at--closing the distance so the beam frigate couldn't turn fast enough to keep them in its sights. As long as he didn't pay attention to the as close as we can to a hostile starship bit, it almost made sense.
"We'll be back in their firing range in about thirty seconds, Devvy. What do you say?"
"Have it your way."
"Good boy." He heard her foot kick one of the control panels. "Sandy, get your seatbelt back on." An electric guitar riff backed up the command.
She was a fast machine. Devin had to hope it would be fast enough. He caught the telltales of the frigate trying to get a targeting lock. So did Casey; the Long Tall Sally dropped so fast it overpowered the inertial dampeners and his vision went momentarily red.
"What's their cycle time, do you suppose?"
"Fifteen, twenty seconds?"
"Oof."
The frigate fired again, and the beam caught the freighter at an off angle. "Shields holding. But maybe try not to give them another chance."
"Easier said than done." And you--Casey banked the ship, but they took another partial hit anyway--shook me all night long. "Sorry."
Now they were so close, and their trajectory was so predicable, that Devin didn't even get a chance to anticipate the salvo. The brutal impact rocked through every spar of the old freighter. "'Sorry' isn't gonna help."
"So you keep telling me!" One more hit. The ship shuddered and yawed drunkenly. "What the fuck?"
"Stabilizers and the inertial compensators just went offline. Shields are down, too. Christ, we're losing main power."
"Get it back! We're past that damn frigate."
"I'm not sure I can get them back. The grid's non-responsive."
"Damn it, Dev." Flying the freighter manually was an exercise in surgical skill, applied to thrusters that put out a few million pounds of force. "Two more incoming! I need those shields. Where's the auxiliary power, Devvy?"
"Going to your engines!"
"They'll be in range in under a minute. Dev, I can't evade without the dampeners."
"You can..."
She twisted around and shot him a glare that would've taken out the rest of the shields, had they still been operating. "I can, but without the inertial dampeners..."
Without the inertial dampeners, they'd take the full brunt of whatever she subjected them to. The coyote called up his computer and looked through wherever he could squeeze enough power to let them endure a few more hits.
Life support. The cargo life support was taking up enough to charge the deflectors. It could hold for a few minutes, right? He gambled and chopped the power. It took a few seconds, half a dozen beats of his racing heart. "Dev, they're opening fire!"
The ship rumbled--but stayed in one piece. And by the time the shields flickered out, all of half a second later, their attackers were behind them and falling further back. They were through.
And with Casey at the helm, the Long Tall Sally fled like a spooked bolt of lightning. Nothing was about to catch up with them. The traffic controller at Tevanista, who'd been watching the battle unfold from a distance, sounded impressed.
He was not, however, impressed enough to waive a mandatory quarantine while they figured out how to disinfect their cargo loading bots. So the freighter sat, cooling its heels.
It wasn't the only thing doing that. Dr. Coats was still restrained, sitting awkwardly on the floor. "I'll make sure you're still paid," he said quietly. "I appreciate what you did for us."
"Doesn't make up for pulling a gun on me," Casey retorted. "Does it, now?"
"I had to. I couldn't give up the chance to get us back."
"You put us all at risk for that chance. Me. Dev. Your daughter--"
"Don't talk to me about her," he cut her off, voice dark. "This was about her. She belongs here."
"I thought it was about a vaccine." Casey shook her head. "Dev, did everything make it through undamaged?"
"I think so. Cargo power wasn't off for very long."
"It doesn't matter," Coats muttered. "We're here. She's here. It's fine. I'm thankful."
"Coyote. Take Sandy back to her quarters, okay?"
"Sure." It was best if the girl wasn't around to see the worst of the jackal's temper, and for his part, Dev was happy not to witness it himself. It doesn't matter, indeed--that would put Casey in a mood. He took Sandy's hand, and walked with her slowly through the freighter's darkened corridors. "At least you're safe now, yeah? I... hope you weren't too... worried?"
He didn't know how to talk to children, but Sandy indulged him. "I wasn't. Mrs. Carr is a good pilot."
"Yeah. You glad to be home?"
The fawn nodded. "Mm-hm, I am. But it was fun! I got to make new friends, and go on an adventure to help daddy. I hope he feels okay... I hope Mrs. Carr isn't too mad..."
"She can be... feisty."
"My dad was just worried," Sandy declared, with the blasé sureness of youth. "They'll make up. Mrs. Carr is friendly."
He found himself wondering which Mrs. Carr, precisely, she had been hanging around with. Casey was many things; 'friendly' had never been the first adjective anyone used to describe her. "Good thing you got along."
"Uh huh! She makes my head not hurt."
Well, that's one of us. They were at the door of her cabin; she was too short to trigger the mechanism, so he opened it for her. "Your head hurts?"
"Sometimes, mm-hm. Since my dad's friend put the thing there. But it's getting better." She hopped obligingly through the threshold and into her bunk, searching for a toy misplaced by the evasive maneuvering.
Dev cocked an eyebrow. "The... thing?"
Sandy stopped her search to look at him wearily, as if the question had been daft. She reached up to brush her hair from her temple, where he caught the glint of metal.
Much like his own. "You have a neural augment."
"Uh-huh, but it's supposed to be secret. I get to keep it after dad gets his friend's thing back out. He says it will make me smarter. Like you." She pointed at the link implanted just forward of the coyote's right ear. She'd drawn the connection, obviously--well before he'd noticed anything at all.
So much for smarter. Devin stepped back, and the cabin slid closed. Reasonably alone with his thoughts, the coyote growled under his breath. "Jesus fucking Christ."
Water over the dam. It was all so much water over the dam. They were on Tevanista, they'd delivered their cargo... and maybe Casey's right. Who cares if a few pirates get waxed before the mob learns they can't bully these guys anymore?
In his own quarters, the coyote settled into bed and sighed at the plating overhead. "Jesus fucking Christ. The hell are you gonna tell Case?"
Nothing. Even if they'd resolved not to keep things from each other, it would only piss the jackal off for no useful reason. The coyote could keep his mouth shut, they'd get paid, and they could put everything behind them. So what if it was a risky mission, with a shitty client? Over and done.
Any minute now she'd be joining him. Still high on adrenaline, ready to pounce the coyote. Ready to put their pent-up energy to good use, and he could go along with it, and that would be that. Well... in this case you'll need to be patient. You've still got passengers for a few hours. After takeoff, though. Focus on that.
Casey took a little longer than usual to make her appearance. She closed the door behind her, leaned back, and shut her eyes. "Well... I gave the good doctor an earful. They'll double our fee. And he's very sorry."
"'Very sorry' won't cover the repair work, but the extra cash should."
"What I figured. Hey--we made it, right? That's something."
Devin rolled his eyes, even if she couldn't see him. "Just barely. In the future, can I at least get a vote in your conscience, maybe?"
The jackal laughed. But then she took a deep breath, and slipped her jacket off. She looked, for once, almost genuinely tired. Worn out. "I'll talk to my people," she said.
Devin rolled his eyes again. This time she could see him, although--offering at least the appearance of sympathy--she didn't respond in kind. Instead she padded over, and dropped onto the bed next to him.
"Is this gonna be something I have to make up to you?" she asked.
"Nah. 'We made it, right?' Maybe a tad more stress than I was looking forward to, though. I don't know why--should be used to it by now."
She snickered. "I know. But we do have fun together, too, coyote. With this ship and all."
"Speak for yourself."
Instead of speaking, Casey twisted around, straddling the coyote and putting her sharp muzzle in dangerously close contact with his own. "What? You're arguing?"
"With this? Specifically? Nah. But we don't need the ship for it," he pointed out.
"Sure, but it makes it easier." Casey grinned the wide, toothy, dangerous grin she'd spend her whole life perfecting. "And we can't leave--got eight hours of quarantine left, remember?"
It wasn't the kind of grin that could be resisted, nor the kind of jackal. Devin just went with it: when her lips pressed against his own the coyote let the warmth of her touch be his own guide.
Her slim, strong hips jerked, grinding hard into Devin's crotch. The piercing cut-gemstone gleam of her eyes brightened. And she did it again, working herself against the swelling, stiffening pressure in his briefs.
"You think--maybe we should wait?"
Her brow furrowed, and her head tilted abruptly. "No? What the fuck for?"
"We still have passengers."
Whatever modesty the jackal had was good for a blink-and-you-miss-it flick of her ears. "I can be quiet?"
"No you can't."
"I... can..."
Devin narrowed his own eyes, and almost successfully ignored the way she rolled her hips into him, teasing the coyote and trying to distract him when she saw the objection coming. "Casey. No you can't."
The jackal scowled, and squirmed a little. "I need to get off, though. And so do you. So do you, coyote," she repeated. The squirming was enough that his briefs were starting to feel the dampness.
"Maybe..."
"Definitely." Casey's arms squeezed him, and she slid her muzzle forward until he felt the cool of her nose against the inside of his ear. "Tell me I'm wrong, coyote."
"I'm just saying that..."
"Tell me you don't want to take me, Devvy." Her voice was going quieter, huskier. "Tell me you don't want to slip that big knot of yours into me... tell me you don't want to pin me down and growl that way you do when you're cumming deep in your jackal bitch... go on..."
Her whisper was so soft he had to strain to hear it. "I'm just saying..."
It wasn't the only thing under tension. She felt the coyote's shudder; her giggle puffed gentle warmth that teased his sensitive hearing. "That's a good dog. I'll be quiet when you fuck me, 'yote. Just like this..."
"No you won't," he managed to growl. But somehow his fingers were already tugging at her panties, sliding them over her rear.
"I promise." She bit his ear softly. "Bet you fifty credits I can be quiet."
Devin growled, at last, and spun the jackal to toss her from his lap and into their bunk. He pulled his underwear off and crawled over the grinning canid. "Bet me that I get a veto the next time your conscience comes outta hibernation."
Casey smirked, lifting her hips so that she could work herself free of her panties. "Deal," she breathed, before rolling over. And then, to drive the point home, she looked over her shoulder--locking eyes with him while she closed her muzzle with her paw.
Not that he trusted her. But he did need to get off, and they could cross that bridge later. He guided his cock into place, between her lips, letting it nudge between their slick, smooth heat.
And then he thrust. There was no resistance--just warmth, velvety and wet as her folds surrounded him. And a gasping cry from the jackal at the penetration. "Sorry," she panted. "Won't h-happen again."
Of course, it did, even before the second proper thrust. He pushed, grinding them together, letting the deep contact as he hilted overwhelm the jackal.
Her claws gripped the edge of the bed, and her muzzle trembled, but she couldn't stop the muted yelp. "Damnit, Dev, that's not fair, that's not--"
But what did you expect, taking a trickster for a lover? He swiveled his hips, pulling back and then bucking deep to fill her again, and the jackal's protest faltered into an open-mouthed, silent yelp.
She stuffed her paw into her muzzle, biting down when he began to thrust properly. Every stroke was full, and strong, and quick--but for a commendable few seconds the loudest sound was the thump of their hips against the bunk, and the wet squish of a needy jackal being plunged full of eager coyote.
Then he heard himself starting to growl. Dev stopped, clenched his muzzle, and took another thrust. Quiet. That's better. He worked himself into the jackal's lifted rump, taking her half a dozen times, then a dozen--her heated walls pressing around him, squeezing him, coaxing him wetly as he he speared her sodden pussy full of throbbing, thick coyote--
More growling. This time he couldn't stop it. They hadn't really agreed on what might happen if he couldn't stay quiet and he wasn't about to chance it. He shoved his nose into the scruff of her neck, letting her fur take the brunt of his heated, grunting snarls.
And since it would have to do, he ignored anything else. His hips jerked and bucked with abandon against her splayed thighs--hammering into her, his need for the jackal spreading slowly from the swift, feral rutting to the grip of his paws on her flanks to the strained, lust-heavy panting that his ragged breath tore from him.
Instinct tightened the rhythm of his pounding, tugged the two dogs closer and closer as his knot spread and pumped between her clinging lips. But fuck, she took him well--took every hammering, humping plunge of the coyote rutting into his bitch, mind all but stripped of anything save the need for release. It might've been her goal, though Casey was beyond complicated planning as she trembled under him, her tail lashing at his side.
He finally bit down on her neck, and her whimpering kicked up into a high squeal, and for a moment Dev remembered enough of their situation to muster a guttural "quiet!" Her ear twitched, almost like she'd understood, except that when he bucked again his knot stuffing her jolted another yelp free. "Case. Quiet."
His growl was low and coarse, and his teeth were still on her scruff, but she heard enough of the order for a tense, full-body shudder in protest at its evident futility. "Mmf!"
He saw her paw shaking helplessly in her quivering muzzle. He couldn't have slowed down if he wanted to--needed to tie her, needed to bury his shaft in the wanton jackal and flood her, consequences be damned. Conscious effort lagged a good bit behind that.
So give it to her. He drove forward hard, felt his knot wedge inside with that not-quite-painful certainty that told them both he wasn't pulling out. She arched, and her paw stiffened and twisted free. "Dev! Oh, fuck, Dev, ye--"
He clamped his paw around her muzzle a few seconds too late. And even then, as he hitched into her with that quick and telling need, she froze, and her howl hissed between his taut fingers.
No longer mattered. Nothing mattered. Devin didn't fight it any more than he fought the erratic urgency of his own hips. Or the rising pressure, swelling out of control, his climax taking over, god, that's it, there it is fuck it's so good oh fuck Casey I'm gonna fuckin'--
Howl. He was a coyote, after all. Devin had just enough time to slam them both down and into the bed, pinning her solidly, fixing her squirming frame in place with a firm shove that told her in no uncertain terms he was about to stake his claim. Just had to hope the mattress was enough that only he could hear her wailing answer...
And that only she could hear his snarl when that culminating thrust forced him deep and his cock throbbed with the first strong gush of his cum splashing into her. The next pulse dragged its matching snarl higher, tenser. Then it was a proper howl, a less-than-subtle declaration of just what exactly he was doing, hilted in the jackal and draining his clenching balls deep in her cunt one heady surge of pleasure at a time.
It served too as a counterpart to her own gratified yelping as he bred her, and the rich, thick warmth of his load spread irresistibly inward. The sound only faltered when the twitching began to ease, and by the time Devin relaxed, his frame a fuzzy weight on her back, Casey's shallow panting still carried its giddy, soft whine.
"Was I quiet?"
"Maybe." He could only mumble, and complex analysis of what had happened evaded the coyote. "I still have my hearing."
The slow, satisfied wag of the jackal's tail underlined her giggle, and the sigh that followed it. "Well, you did bite me pretty hard."
"It helped, right?"
"Helped who, babe?" She shifted her hips, testing the tie that kept the coyote lodged in her. Devin grunted, pushing her back down as his shaft squished lewdly through the mess he'd pumped her with. "Thought so."
He nipped her scruff, teasingly--though it was, he couldn't help noticing, rather damp with his saliva already. "Helped you, too. You took it like such a damn good jackal."
"'Cause I am," she drawled, working herself gently on him. "Fuck, that knot..."
"Remember the first time? You told me I couldn't knot ya."
Casey slumped forward with a grin that was still slightly dazed. "How'd you put it, Devvy? I didn't know you very well back then..."
"We know each other better now," he suggested.
She nodded, her tail wagging. The nap that followed--between the stress and the exertion--took up most of the quarantine time. Then it was time to prepare the cargo for unloading, and to say goodbye to Sandy and her father.
"They didn't say anything," Casey reminded him, as she started going through the freighter's takeoff checklist. "I think you owe me fifty credits."
"Yeah, yeah. You were a good girl," he allowed. "Reactor output stable. Speaking of being a good girl, Case, we are getting the motivator repaired. For real."
She glanced over her shoulder, flashing him a grin. "Was that part of the bet, coyote?"
"It's part of me sticking around."
"Oh, yeah." She coughed. "You have real problems with that. Fine, pick a yard you can deal with. Or where you can forge the paperwork. Ready?"
"Guess so."
The jackal nodded and gave him a thumbs-up, returning her attention to the cockpit. "Control, this is the Long Tall Sally. We're ready for departure."
"Copy that, Long Tall Sally. You're cleared for takeoff. Good luck, and watch the blockade. And, uh, before you go." The traffic controller cleared his throat, leaving the mic open. "You know they say 'in space, no one can hear you scream'?"
"Yeah?" Casey had paused, her paw on the starship's throttle.
"That only works in space. Just, uh. Just some advice."
"Thanks, control." She cut the channel and knocked her head against the pilot's chair a few times before remembering that they never had to return to the damned backwater. "Well, whatever. Hope they enjoyed the show."
"Fifty credits," he told her, the smirk bleeding into his voice.
"Troublemaker. I dunno why I keep you around."
"Yeah? Well. He does."
Casey snorted, put their nose skyward, and with a flick of her wrist shoved them back among the stars--where they belonged.