sail3695

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Story Note

Time skip: We're moving ahead to Day 2 of a flight approx. 3 days. 16 hours long. Posts in progress may continue as written.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

12.25 Seconds

JP/Collab from @wanderingwolf and @sail3695
Rex Black is a character created by @Psych0pomp

“You go nosin’ about folks’ business, just you make gorram certain there’s no bread crumbs leadin’ back to us.” The Captain had made himself clear…though his references to ‘nosing’ and ‘bread crumbs’ had required some research into colloquialism. That had since proven useful in her interactions with Penelope and Rex. Ever mindful of this directive, Sam put herself to the task of seeking the First Mate’s requested information.

The first move involved setting the path. During her time on Greenleaf, S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. had busied herself with local satellites, transmission stations, and even the public cortex networks blanketing Khao Yai and the surrounding countryside. Her entry/exit point would be Repeater 057, located in thick jungle some forty-three kilometers outside the city.

sam@chinadoll:~# besside-ng -W -v wlan0mon
[18:39:34] mac 3c:46:d8:4e:ef:aa
[18:39:34] Let's ride
[18:39:34] Appending to wpa.cap
[18:39:34] Appending to wep.cap
[18:39:34] Logging to besside.log
[18:39:35] Found AP 44:3a:cb:38:51:42 [watwutwot] chan 1 crypto WPA dbm -49
[18:39:35] Found AP 4c:8b:30:83:ed:91 [TELUS3079-2.4G] chan 1 crypto WPA dbm -71
[18:39:35] Found AP 1c:87:2c:d3:34:18 [Kuroki] chan 3 crypto WPA dbm -89
[18:39:37] Found AP 4c:8b:30:24:71:75 [SAMUEL9] chan 8 crypto WPA dbm -73
[18:39:37] Found AP 0c:51:01:e6:01:c4 [fbi-van-24] chan 11 crypto WPA dbm -46
[18:39:37] Found AP 70:f1:96:8e:5c:02 [TELUS0455-2.4G] chan 11 crypto WPA dbm -78
[18:39:38] Found client for network [Kuroki] 90:06:28:cb:0f:f3
[18:39:41] Found AP f0:f2:49:3c:ec:a8 [fbi-van-24] chan 1 crypto WPA dbm -49
[18:39:42] Found AP bc:4d:fb:2c:6d:88 [SHAW-2C6D80] chan 6 crypto WPA dbm -77
[18:39:42] Found client for network [SHAW-2C6D80] 64:5a:04:98:e1:62
[18:39:43] Found AP 10:78:5b:e9:a4:e2 [TELUS2151] chan 11 crypto WPA dbm -49
[18:39:43] Found client for network [Repeater 057] 60:6b:bd:5a:b6:6c

The next step was arranging offworld transmission. The comm and data satellites hovering above Khao Yai were all closely monitored, leaving the AI few options beyond weather and certain private applications. One of these was Centrix Mining Corporation’s Geosync 5. The company’s manganese and uranium veins had petered out several years before, forcing removal of all assets. Until they could safely seal their vertical shafts and tunnels, a lengthy and expensive process that time and cost made increasingly unlikely, they hired security to monitor the site and maintain contact via three of the satellite’s channels. The remaining nine would serve Sam’s purposes admirably.

sam@chinadoll:~# hydra -l root -P /usr/share/wordlists/metasploit/unix_passwords.txt -t 6 ssh://375.168.120.123:3398//24 ! 192.168.0.0 || 192.168.1.0

Hydra (thc.org/thc-hydra) starting at 2522-06-06 07:53:33
[DATA] 6 tasks, 1 server, 1003 login tries (l:1/p:1003), ~167 tries per task
[DATA] attacking service ssh on port 22

The challenge now lay in creating the long distance linkups. She first arranged a skip to St. Albans. From there, a powerful station that monitored ice flow movement would be her conduit to an unencrypted visitors’ welcome center on Pelorum. After a side trip through the Companions’ Guild servers on Sihnon, the AI managed Osiris access through the house cortex of Capital City Ice Planet Emporium. She then closed the Greenleaf loop with connections made between Albion, Persephone, and New Melbourne. Not exactly the most robust circuit, but she had sufficient access that could be collapsed in a nanosecond if a trace or an alarm were detected.

sam@chinadoll:~# nmap -v -A -sV 375.168.120.123:3398//21

Starting Nmap 670.41 ( nmap.org ) at 2522-06-06 07:55:33
NSE: Loaded 118 scripts for scanning.
NSE: Script Pre-scanning.
Initiating ARP Ping Scan at 18:40
Scanning 375.168.120.123:3398//21 [1 port]
Completed ARP Ping Scan at 18:40, 0.06s elapsed (1 total hosts)
Initiating Parallel DNS resolution of 1 host. at 18:40
Completed Parallel DNS resolution of 1 host. at 18:40, 0.00s elapsed
Initiating SYN Stealth Scan at 18:40
Scanning router.localdomain (375.168.120.123:3398//21) [1000 ports]
Discovered open port 53/tcp on 375.168.120.123:3398//21
Discovered open port 22/tcp on 375.168.120.123:3398//21
Discovered open port 80/tcp on 375.168.120.123:3398//21
Discovered open port 3001/tcp on 375.168.120.123:3398//21


Her entry and egress portals thus arranged, Sam devoted her energies to finding the back doors. As she searched, a facial capture algorithm pulled the image of Joseph Hooker’s adversary from the still shot in the kidnapper’s vid. The angle was problematic; the man’s face was not a clean profile, turned roughly twenty-seven degrees off Y axis. She selected a 3D modeler application to aid in the processing before moving on to her first target, the servers of Khao Yai Law Enforcement. Though surprise wasn’t yet a part of her fluid learning process, Sam found it remarkable that her previous access path hadn’t been obstructed by rolling encryption. Once more the AI set to work, wearing down the coded defense of all the bike gang’s sealed files.

sam@chinadoll:~# john –word=/usr/share/john/password.lst --rules unshadowed.txt

With these processes running, she dipped into the dark cortex to check on her previous queries. Masquerading as BeachBunny17 had garnered her plenty of attention and offers of help from the normally wary source box jockeys. She sometimes wondered about the social development of this predominantly male community, but the sort of off-the-books hackery they shared had yielded some value to her efforts. Today would prove to be such a fortuitous moment. Biggerthanyourdreams had left a very helpful response:

Hey bunny, best way to find handles in KYLE is to torrent known case file hooks. All the criminal defense law firms run Legalbase - no brainer picking those locks. Get in and pull their active case files. Extra cool if you find the perps you’re tryna help out. Send me bikini pics and I’ll shoot you some sweet RTMP embeds to get you right in.

After sending a note of thanks and a link to ‘Marique’s Swimwear’ catalog, Sam set her sight on every Khao Yai defense law firm at once. The first to buckle was the office of Leonard Booth, Attorney At Law. And here, she struck gold. Booth was, for all intents and purposes, the chosen defender of numerous criminal enterprises in Khao Yai. Her curious algorithms soon had files and image captures of every Headhunters member to require his services for the past decade. Images and registry for a vessel, Road Angel, were included in the trove. In addition, she found known associates of Hafez Nadal, enough to build her own org chart and hypothesize upon the longterm stability of both outfits. A rapidfire mugshot search yielded two potential matches, whose images were fed to additional 3D modelers for comparison.

As S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. sifted her way through this rogue’s gallery of clientele, she hadn’t expected to come across Yuri Antonov. The new crewman’s image and history were largely innocuous, but for the names of relatives and associates. He had no criminal past, though his older brother Ivan had been reported killed on Regina, the result of a large scale medicine theft gone awry. Of particular interest was the company behind Yuri’s civil case against his former employers…a known shadow corporation for crime boss Adelai Niska. This would require further research. For now, the AI copied the slender file and resumed her principal task.

She turned her attention toward Osiris, and a search for the Headhunters’ potential trading partners. With no shred of evidence to guide her way, Sam tapped into criminology files of Capital City’s massive law library. A dozen books on gang culture and behavior fell to her study, directing her on a course to identify each known criminal gang operating within the city limits. The search proved simpler than she thought, with the Black Zone Kings standing out through sheer size and grasp of their territory. The gang had been mentioned in journalists’ accounts four hundred sixty-two times. Many of these reports hinted at their offworld partnerships, including Headhunters MC from Greenleaf. Accompanying image captures displayed the eye patched kidnapper and president, known as Root. Shuffling images like playing cards, Sam took in each picture for detail and facial capture.

She was in the process of cross referencing Root’s lieutenants when the blue polo shirt caught her scan.

A quick check of the Joseph Hooker bar fight capture proved a match. She had a face, an image quickly corroborated by the 3D image modelers, and then confirmed via his mugshots from Khao Yai.

“Julius Patagano,” Sam spoke via the bridge intercom. “Known to his associates as ‘Lip.’ Charges for racketeering, money laundering, tax fraud, and numerous domestic dispute and public nuisance complaints.”

Twelve seconds. She wasn’t lying. Rex looked up from his watch. “So, a money guy with a temper,” he replied. “You got more?”

“The name of our bike gang president, his likely lieutenants, and their most probable contacts on Osiris. We also have the name and registry of their vessel. Khao Yai Traffic Control confirms its’ departure one hour and thirty-six minutes prior to our much observed liftoff.”

“Never gonna let me live that down, are you?” he chuckled. “So Hook took out their money guy,” he mused aloud. “They got Abby on that boat, and they’re probably setting us up for a hot reception on Osiris with their friends.”

“I would agree with that assessment,” S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A.’s voice floated through the cabin. “There’s a good deal more information to consider. May I continue?”

“Talk data to me, baby.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Hi @Theyra.

Our pilot's seat is still open, and we're always willing to consider interesting passenger types. Would either of those work for you?

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

No worries. That deletion was today's OOC post dropped in the wrong place. I'll take a look at what you posted!

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Happy Sunday from the cargo bay!

Here's how it is: China Doll is hightailing it to Osiris, hell bent to drop Hafez's cargo and get their kidnapped deckhand back. Meanwhile, the Headhunters MC have a head start, and a mind to set up a reception. Their bargaining chip is our deckhand, Abby, and they're treating her none too kindly on the way. Besides the payout, what they really want is blood for blood, and a liberal spilling of Hook's. But Cal, Rex, and Sam are gonna figure something out...

You'll notice that we're pushing hard to complete this episode. In a perfect world we'd be wrapping by end of next week, but we're prepared to stretch one more if need be. After that, our next episode #4, "Harriet's Railroad," should be brief.

Why the sudden uptick in speed? We're pleased to let you know that there are two new writers waiting in the wings. They'll come aboard as soon as we're settled on Osiris. Added to that, Xandrya's been floating a second character idea that we've green lighted for Episode 4. Wolf will also be introducing one of his favorite characters to the game. At this point that leaves need of a pilot and any interesting passenger types, so we'll leave the "Apply" sign lit for a little while longer.

Another reason behind us tapping the gas is realtime scheduling for our members. @Gunther has got a vacation booked the week of 7/10, and @Xandrya will be in the home stretch for baby Alexander's arrival at about the same time. Our current plan is to run Episode 5 on Pelorum, a well known resort planet in the 'verse. We'll have a central plot to run, but the emphasis will be on individual character subplots at a pace that works best for you all during the rest of July.

Expect a couple JP invites in the next few days, and thanks for some pretty spectacular writing!

WWIF,

sail

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Firefly - Second 'Verse

As if on cue, the mechanic appeared in the galley. "Hey," he greeted the cook, "whatever that is, it smells mighty good. Any chance I could get a bowl?"

<tag Hook>

Yuri fished through the refrigerator. A bottle of Boom Boom Lemon caught his eye. He reached for the beverage, then halted as memories of Abby's drink preference crossed the back of his mind. "Save that for her; she'll want it when she's back," he thought as his hand closed around a bottle of Captain Bob's Cola. Yuri's toolkit landed on the deck next to his seat at the crew table. "So," he said to the cook, "I was talking with Edina...Ms. Wyman," he corrected himself. "Considering what the Captain said about everyone holding pistols when we meet these bikers, we thought it might be smart for some of us to get a little extra gun handling practice. I hear you're pretty accomplished. Could you see your way clear to leading us through some training?"

<tag Hook>

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Unsolved Mysteries

I’ve done everything I can do for now.
So why do I feel it’s not enough?

China Doll was handling the hard burn as well as could be expected. After several hours spent watching her numbers and checking for any signs of her flying apart, Yuri felt the old listlessness fomenting inside him. The Mick had been perfect for his restless spirit; a ship of that size always had something broken, or on the verge. He could work himself to such exhaustion that even his inner disquiet couldn’t rouse him from his bunk.

But China Doll was considerably less than a handful. She didn’t possess nearly the challenge to still demons who now feasted upon the heavy ball of fear lying in his stomach. With hands aching for action, Yuri grabbed up a toolkit. Word had spread that the three Skye kids had vacated their shuttle. For an anxious mechanic looking to burn off nervous energy, now was as good a time as any for a systems and maintenance check.

As he stepped through the open hatchway, he was met with the surprise of their sole passenger, Edina Wyman, crawling about on all fours. “Hello?” he greeted the woman.

“Oh!” she gasped, turning to settle upon her knees. “You scared me!”

“I’m sorry,” the mechanic set his tools down. “Need some help?”

She looked around the space. “When I came to check on them for the captain, it was plain they’d left in a hurry. Just thought I’d clean up the mess,” Edina’s eyes turned away. “I can’t abide just sitting around fretting.”

Yuri nodded his understanding. “Kind of my thought, too,” he admitted as he observed the cabin. “I conjure Abby would’ve beaten us both to the job. All in all, it doesn’t look too bad.”

“It’s not,” she agreed. “Lots of wrappers and soda bottles. A few glasses to go back to the galley. I did find this,” she fished through a pocket, her hand emerging with a tiny piece of gleaming gold. Edina extended the little treasure toward Yuri. “It looks like…”

“...A microchip,” he observed. With great care, he plucked it from her open palm to study beneath an overhead light.

“What do you think it does?”

He shook his head. “Difficult to say, but the architecture is pretty sophisticated.” Yuri’s eyes lifted, casting about the shuttle and each of her systems in search of a logical answer. “I don’t think it belongs to any of the flight or atmospheric controls in here,” he ventured. From the toolkit he produced a small container. “I’ll show it to the Captain,” he promised. “Thanks for not just sweeping it out with the rest of the trash.”

“I’m all about a good mystery.” The smile she gave him really was quite a lovely respite from the day’s incessant brooding. “While we’re sleuthing, maybe you can help me with that?”

A bit of graffiti had been finger painted onto a bulkhead. He studied the smiley face. The substance from which it had been created had an oddly viscous texture, but the smell of it seemed vaguely familiar. “That’s not paint,” he offered. “Any ideas?”

“I think it’s tartar sauce,” she replied. “I found more on a plate with a half eaten fish stick. But those words,” Edina pointed toward the underlying message. “Do you know what they mean?”

“Pis-tool so-en,” he read aloud. “Pistool soen. No,” Yuri shook his head. “I knew they spoke some language, but beyond a nod and a wave I never really dealt with them.”

Edina was now on her feet, armed with a spray bottle and cleaning rag. “Guess we’ll chalk it up to another unsolved mystery,” she said as the bulkhead was scoured clean. “Will it bother you if I keep working?”

Yuri settled into the pilot’s seat. “Not at all. Seriously, I’m glad for the company.”

“Me too.” A companionable silence fell between them, punctuated by the flipping of switches and the rhythmic swishing of both broom and mop. At one point, Yuri lifted his feet to permit her access to the deck beneath him. There was a comfort to be had in simple work; knowing that her aims were in agreement with his own seemed a balm to the ache of worry that filled him with nervous energy. He concentrated on the shuttle. I’ve done everything I can for now, his mind settled into its task.

Edina’s final chore was the cleaning of the pilot’s counters and console, a task which brought her directly into Yuri’s workflow. On any other day this might’ve proved a nuisance. Yet now, their closeness sparked a quiet sense of contentment for each, a bond of kinship through pain and concern for their missing shipmate. After wiping down the last dial, she paused to face him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“When I said I had a gun,” she nearly whispered, “that’s true. I do have one…but I’ve never used it. Don’t really know the first thing about it.”

“Well you’re ahead of me,” he smiled. “I was going to see if the captain could lend me one.”

“So you know,” her eyes held his gaze, “how to use one?”

He nodded. “I’m no expert, but I’ve had to handle them from time to time.”

“Could you teach me? I don’t want to mess it up when we meet these bikers, or,” Edina’s eyes swept the deck, “Buddha forbid…”

“Shoot someone,” they both said in unison. “I know,” Yuri’s face was solemn. “I don’t want that, either. But yes,” he answered, “we can practice some basics. Loading, unloading, aiming, and safety. A refresher course wouldn’t hurt me at all, either.”

“And maybe target practice?”

“Not unless the boat’s got a practice emitter,” he said. “No shooting live rounds inside.”

Edina pondered that. “I know Abby and Hook did some shooting on Greenleaf. Maybe one of them has that thing you’re talking about?”

“Good thought. I’ll ask Hook and the captain. If you want to check Abby’s things…”

“I’ve got no clue what to look for,” she shook her head.

Yuri answered with a sheepish grin. “I really don’t think Abby would appreciate me rummaging through her underwear drawer. Let’s go together.”

The thought teased a wan smile from Edina. “Okay. One more mystery to solve.”

Firefly - Second 'Verse

The Perils of Abigail Travis, Part 1 - “Road Angel”

OOC: Next to Serenity, there is no cooler ship than Bebop.

California Babylon

She was old, and rough around the edges, but when Slack hit the throttles, Road Angel would run like a scalded dog. Of all the spaceships fondly referred to as “boat,” she was one of the few that would actually qualify. Her center hull and outboard stabilizers met the classic definition of a trimaran, designed to fill her holds with water for transport to arid, non terraformed worlds. In those days, she was known as ‘Quench,’ scraping out sustenance for her crew until high capacity haulers and soil leeching technology forced her sale. She’d been property of the Headhunters MC ever since.

Refitting for cargo hadn’t been difficult. The old boat’s many crawlspaces and nooks provided numerous hideaways for smuggling. Her upper decks were subdivided to offer twelve crew cabins, leaving room for a spacious eat-in galley, a lounge area with its’ essential bar and viewscreens, and finally, an abbreviated ‘table room’ for use by the President and his lieutenants. The boat’s shuttle bay now contained eight of the MC’s orbital cycles. At present, most of their owners were sprawled on sofas in the lounge. Root and Nips were in the table room. The kid from China Doll was parked on a mattress in the mechanic’s workshop, wrists ziptied behind her back and her head encased in a dirty burlap sack.

“Yeah,” Root said as he pressed the cortex reader to his ear.

“They’re on their way.”

“Shiny,” the MC president said. “What kinda numbers did you see?”

“Just a couple guys loadin’ our cargo,” Roach answered. “Some tall dude and a dark skin looked to be the fella killed Lip.”

Ku, Root grunted. “You take five and saddle up. Ellsbeth’s waiting at the Rabbit. Time for her to deliver our modest proposal to our pal Hafez.”

“Roger that.”

Root cut the channel and set the little device down. “China Doll’s away. We’ve got an hour and a half head start, and they’ve got our guy on board.”

Nips tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Still not liking what we don’t know,” her brow furrowed. “Boat like that could have a squad of gun hands and we're none the wiser.”

“I take it the kid hasn’t been helpful?”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” she sighed. “We can’t even get her to spill her own name.”

Root’s hands folded across his stomach. “Let Cottonmouth and the boys have a few more cracks at her. Little girl like that’s gotta be scared shitless.”

“They’ve already rearranged her face,” Nips groused. “What the hell else you gonna do?”

“Eh,” he shrugged, “couple more knockarounds. She’s still not playing ball, we give her to Lido.”

“Root,” the lieutenant stiffened in her seat. “She’s just a kid, for fuck’s sake.”

“Already got one corpse on our hands, thanks to that kid’s boat. If Lido takin’ her for a test drive keeps us from losin’ any more of our folk, I’d wager that’s one cherry worth the price.” His expression softened. “Besides, I conjure one more go around with Cottonmouth and she’ll be all ready to hear you play ‘good cop,’ anyway.”

“Man, I hope so.”

Root lifted his cortex from the table. “I’ll take care of our numbers problem right now. If Hafez welched on us us at this end, most like the Cap City crew got screwed on theirs. I’ll get Pacho to roll out with a dozen or so…” A loud, insistent knock cut him off. “Yeah!”

The door slid open to reveal Mouse, the MC’s newest prospect. Girl was a tiny thing, but she’d met all the qualifications for a full patch by working a job, swinging a piece, and pounding on three of her newfound brothers. “It’s Cheesedick,” she exclaimed. “He just got gǎo zále.”

Root sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he traded a glance with Nips. “C’mon,” he ordered. “Let’s go.”

Cheesedick had been led by his brothers to one of the lounge sofas. For all the machismo of bike culture over the centuries, watching these tough characters dither and panic over their comrade struck the president a tad bit funny. All the skills of biker medicine were being deployed upon the wounded man. Root noted the whiskey bottle and it’s much smaller mate, the narcotic drops masquerading as Schuler’s Hair Restoration Tonic. “Make a hole,” he commanded.

Cheesedick lay sprawled on the couch, a fat spliff hanging from lips that couldn’t quite close to draw smoke. His entire jaw hung left, turning his mouth into a crooked, drooling maw. “Damn,” Root uttered as he examined the wound. “Either broken, or one hell of a dislocation. What happened?”

“...at…ish,” the victim tried to speak “Chhhick…ne.”

“Mouse?” The gang leader turned his man’s head to examine the bootheel mark now purpling along the jawline. “Translate?”

“That bitch,” the prospect gestured toward the workshop. “She kicked him in the jaw.”

“I see she’s still wearing her boots.”

“Not any more,” Mouse replied. “Cottonmouth pulled ‘em off. He’s wailing on her with one of them right now.”

Root’s eye turned toward Nips. “Better get ‘Good Cop’ in there while our bargaining chip is still breathing.”

“Copy,” she replied over her shoulder.

Firefly - Second 'Verse

Escape Velocity

S.A.M.A.N.T.H.A. appears courtesy of @wanderingwolf
Rex Black is a character created by @Psych0pomp


China Doll made quite a show of lifting off.

Unlike the elegant finesse of her former pilot’s touch, Rex’s ham handed maneuvering caused the boat to lurch upward. She swayed left, a drunken wobble veering her to within a meter’s distance of a neighboring Trans-U. An overcorrection to the right was met with better fortune. The Yōu sun parked in the adjoining berth cast a low, sleek posture which permitted the hapless Firefly to meander overhead. Oops, Rex thought of the scorch marks left upon her hull as he goosed the boat upward. China Doll powered skyward, her engines firewalled as she burst through afternoon cloud toward the deepening blue. “Oh yeah,” the First Mate dropped a nervous chuckle as he tightened a hand crank, “forgot to set the yolk tension.”

“Everything alright up there?” That new mechanic sounded worried enough for two.

Rex keyed the mic. “It’s all shiny,” he answered in a voice silky smooth as that passenger lady’s panties. “Like ridin’ a bicycle, my man.”

“Okay,” Yuri’s tone read ‘dubious’ in big neon letters. “Don’t forget to feather your atmo engines at sixty-K altitude. Full reactor thrust by seventy-five.”

“What?” the First Mate grinned. “You afraid I’m gonna stall her out?”

“No…yes.”

“Have a little faith, baby. I mean, c’mon. You just went down on one ship. What are the odds it could happen again? Wait. Too soon?” The smirk on his face evaporated with the flashing of a cockpit alarm. His eyes darted toward the gauges, their RPM indications falling in time with the sound of both turbines whining down toward a complete halt. Through the forward viewports was Greenleaf, her surface beginning to rise as the Firefly’s nose pitched forward. “Oh..yeah,” Rex throttled up the reactor thrust and eased the yolk back. “We’re okay…we’re all shiny.”

Yuri’s voice was droll. “Shut the atmos down before you burn out the solenoids.”

“Done and done.” Yeah, it might’ve been a few years since he’d handled this old girl. For true he was a touch rusty. But, Rex conjured as he laid in the course for Osiris, three and a half days’ steady flying oughta jump start the old muscle memory, in addition to giving him ample time to cozy up to SAMANTHA. “Hey Sam,” he said casually, “you listening?”

“I’m online,” the AI responded. “China Doll has just received two citations from Khao Yai Traffic Control. Two charges of Unsafe Operation.”

As she settled upon her course, the boat’s autopilot was engaged. Meanwhile, her flesh and blood pilot attempted negotiation with the prickly digital conscience. “So hey,” he settled back in his chair, “think you can do something about those?”

“What is it you’re requesting?”

“You know,” he gently cajolled the unseen presence. “Make ‘em…go away?”

“I should report these citations to the captain.”

“Or not..c’mon, we’re all having a rough time here,” Rex beseeched. “Nobody’s gonna be right til we get the kid back. You gonna make me beg?”

“In light of your efforts to locate our missing deckhand, no,” Sam replied. “I will attempt a few discreet queries of their database.”

“Thanks. You’re a doll. While you’re doin’ that,” Rex leaned forward, “what’s the chances of you slippin’ into the cops’ and feds’ records? I want to know everything there is about the Headhunters Motorcycle Club.”

If the machine had a face, he’d have sworn it just perked up. “I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that,” the AI responded. “Headhunters MC has actually very few mentions in the law enforcement database. Several sealed files. Yes, I’m attempting decryption. Of the visible record, there are physical altercations, several incidents of public drunkenness, domestic disputes. The club is a frequent donor to the Police Benevolent and Pension Fund, sometimes participating in fundraising efforts with Hafez Nadal.”

“No la shi,” Rex said. “Now, some homework, sweetie. In that capture they sent, pull the face of the guy our cook was punching. I want everything you can find, criminal history, affiliation with the MC, anything.”

“We’re outside Greenleaf’s orbital network,” Sam replied. “Untraceable inquiries from the deep black are more difficult to obtain, due to fewer relay points and routing delays. This will take some time.”

Rex nodded thoughtfully. “How long do you think?”

“Twelve-point-two-five-seconds,” she answered.

“You little tease.”