Disclaimer and Acknowledgment:
All persons engaged in sexual activity or otherwise sexualized are over 18.
As always, a special thanks to my editor, LiterKnight, for catching the obvious errors that inevitably litter my early drafts.
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"A hard-headed scavver, a corporate bimbo, and a malfunctioning V.I. walk into a bar..."
Layla was packing away the last of a quick lunch she'd served on one of the deserted conference tables in the Leisure lab. When Nixie's emitter fired back up after a blessed period of silence, she really wasn't surprised. "Oh, wait, I know this one!"
"No, you don't, be quiet." Nixie snapped. The golden sprite mimicked clearing her throat before continuing. "...they each order..."
"Do you really think I am a bimbo, Nixie?" Shae interrupted. The fox-girl had been licking the remnants of the MRE slop from her fingers when the A.I. had reappeared, taking great pleasure in cleaning her suited digits of the last morsels of the disgusting meal. But now her eyes were narrowed dangerously at Nixie
"You're shaped like an adolescent boy's guilty fantasies, corpo-skank. I call them like I see them." Nix's sharp reply seemed to amuse Shae more than insult her, and she gestured for the A.I. to continue with a smile. "A hard-headed scavver, a corporate bimbo, and a malfunctioning V.I. walk into a bar, and they each order a shot of Quasar vodka..."
"Oh, she is talking about us?" Eight spoke, appearing suddenly. The latex-girl had wandered off while Layla and Shae ate, but the sound of conversation had drawn her back quickly. Layla chuckled as Nixie stared death at the bubbly synthetic construct. "What's vodka?"
"Something you'll never need to suffer through drinkin'," Layla said, more than happy to continue to irritate her A.I. companion. "Quasar is like swallowin' nuclear waste. Burns like shit, but it'll sure make you glow after."
"Speaking from experience?" Shae prompted, propping her face up on her hand. Nixie's avatar was starting to glitch as she grew more and more frustrated.
"Gotta have somethin' to take the edge off after a long haul," the scavver shrugged. "There was this one time, in a dive in Damasia City on Nova Roma..."
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Nixie yelled, throwing her tiny hands up into the air in exasperation.
Layla laughed. "Fine, fine, we'll stop fuckin' about. What's your punchline, scrapcode?"
The sprite narrowed her eyes at Layla's smirking expression. "And the bartender says, 'your passive ignorance will be your doom. Cease your foolish distractions and return to the task at hand. Threats lurk beyond your comprehension."
There was a moment of silence around the table.
"I don't get it." Eight said.
Layla sighed, pushing her chair back from the table with an abrupt squeal. "Nix's telling us to stop lollygaggin' and get back to it." Standing, she mimed a serious salute towards the scowling sprite projected from her wrist, adopting a think Russian accent. "Message received, Commissar! RyadovΓ³y Solovyeva reporting for duty!"
As Shae giggled at her display and Eight remained blissfully confused, Nix maintained her scowl. "You're all being far too blasΓ© about all this. Now isn't the time for messing around."
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first three times," Layla waved her off, but did begin the process of stuffing her errant cooking gear back into the pack. On a certain level, the A.I. was right. They had shit to do. But it had felt good to have a break after the frenzied (and sexually exhausting) events of the morning. Even if that break amounted to friendly banter over a meal of leftover rations.
"And besides," Nix continued, her severe expression softening slightly as she watched Layla clean up the space, "There's something that you need to see."
"And what would that be, Nixie?" Shae queried. The fox-girl had stood as well, her hands flitting about her suit as if to check that her gear was in place, her dark helmet hanging from a clasp on her belt.
"Did some more rummaging about the sub-net. I found something interesting on one of the data terminals: a trove of encrypted files hidden beyond packets of junk-code. They've got weaker security than the files I located earlier in the central orb. I've cracked a few of them, and you'll want to see what I found."
"And you can't just summarize?" Layla complained, slipping the straps of her pack over her shoulders and picking up her carbine. Sadly, she was leaving her maul behind. It was just dead weight at this point, and there wasn't anything left to repair. Hexsteel was a valuable material, but she could always fetch the head when she did her full salvage sweep. For the time being, their little crew would have to hope that Eight could deter any goo-girls they encountered.