Spar the Runner

Spark the Runner 2

The continuing adventures of...

Author's note:

This is a continuation of last year's Geek Pride event story, Spark the Runner. It isn't necessary to read the previous one to enjoy this one, but you might find it entertaining...

In the spirit of fair warning, whereas the previous story was mostly about running the datanet and working out puzzles around AI constructs and metaphysics, this has more of the physical adventure, nonhuman relations and so forth.

The Geek Pride event isn't a contest. That being said, voting and comments are how I know how well I am pleasing you, the reader. Enjoy.

* * * * *

"Mister Jamie McLeod, Communications Officer... and wife." The guy in the First Officer's stripes glanced up from his clipboard to Spark and Tonya standing before him. "Just married?"

"Yes, sir," Spark beamed. "She's making an honest man outta me."

"Helluva honeymoon," the man stated with a wry smile. "I'm Richards, XO on this tub. Huddle up in the wardroom with the others. There's fresh go-juice. We'll get everyone sorted once the last of the crew check in."

"Aye, sir," Spark nodded, then picked up his duffel and Tonya's. "Honey..." he addressed her as he turned to look at her.

"Yeah, baby?" She gave him her best cute smile. The one that went with her new long, blonde hair and purple eyes.

"Let's see if we can find the mess," he suggested and she stepped up and gave him a quick kiss.

"This whole place looks like a mess," she told him, completely serious.

"Straight down Broadway," the XO chuckled, pointing. "You'll hear the voices. Welcome aboard the

Aquila

, McLeod. Ma'am." He nodded to her as Spark and Tonya moved off.

Tonya had never been on a spacecraft before, other than the Lunar Shuttle, and was finding everything fascinating. Spark was finding it pure drudgery. The ship was a freighter -- a cargo ship a couple of generations old. There weren't any luxury accommodations, most of the space reserved for cargo.

The

Aquila

was running with the old Queron Plasma sub-light drives with a theoretical best speed of 150 thousand Kph, which meant 15-plus days if they launched at optimal aspect. It didn't seem they were important enough to get that slot, so it looked like it would be closer to 20.

The Luna Freight Terminal had been another case of interesting to Tonya and not to Spark. They'd gotten Thrift class seats on the shuttle -- one class below Economy and one above Cold Storage -- and slipped off Earth as Mr. and Mrs. McLeod, McLeod being one of Spark's alternate identities. Professor Lenox had been very helpful in procuring new fake ID's for Tonya as Elizabeth McLeod, including a marriage license to her new husband, Jamie.

He had also been phenomenal in creating neural net microtransceivers, virtually undetectable by any of the usual scanning devices, which Spark and Tony now had implanted just under their ears, near the temporomandibular joint. Although Tonya could speak directly to Spark's mind without aid, this gave them both the capability of inaudible, secure, encrypted two-way point-to-point communication using a microband of the dataplex.

Being able to be sneaky... being able to be invisible to the ones hunting her... required a lot of changes and subterfuge on Tonya's part. Her once brunette hair was now down to her ass and blond. Her lily-white skin was now a golden bronze. Being a construct, she could alter things like eye color and body shape with a little effort. For example, changing the distance between her eyes. Something most facial recognition software couldn't handle. She was now sporting royal purple eyes and fuller lips. It took time to effect those kinds of changes, but Spark and Tonya hadn't been idle in the meantime.

Spark made arrangements with a couple of people he could trust to manage his affairs in his absence. He explained, without saying

where

, that he had a long-term gig that was going to keep him incommunicado. They'd helped him before and had been well compensated for their troubles. They would do it again. The Professor took over managing Tonya's affairs. He was the only one she would trust.

Tonya had found the weightlessness of the translunar shuttle trip exciting. To keep a low profile, they'd gone the "quick and dirty" route, usually used by flight crews or laborers who didn't care about fancy tourist accommodations. Half the trip was spent accelerating and decelerating. The other half -- about 12 hours -- was spent in what Spark called "glide time," when the craft was coasting. To keep the weight down and the time short, the shuttle didn't bother with artificial gravity generators. Spark generally disliked the utilitarian economy run. In this case, though, it was more important to travel incognito.

Once they'd reached the moon, Spark had hacked the crew assignments database at the freight terminal and found them a nondescript ride to the Red Planet. If the Blood Alliance was looking for Tonya to leave Earth, they didn't seem to be looking this direction. Which suited him perfectly, since Mission Priority One was getting Tony beyond the grasp of the crime consortium that had dropped fifty billion credits creating her. Dealing with

why

they created her would be Priority Two, after they got to Mars.

"This trip ought to be a whole lot of boring," Spark told Tonya as they walked down the corridor. "Quarters will be Spartan, so you'll probably spend most of your time in the Wardroom or the Crew Lounge, depending on how the Captain runs his ship. You're going to need to blend in... be the blushing bride, the ingénue, first time in space and all that."

"It will not be too far from the truth,

husband

," Tonya smiled. "I will be the good wife."

"Lizzie..." he prompted her with a look.

Yes?

he heard in his head.

I know bloody well you've memorized everything about this ship, its crew and operations that you could find, ever since I told you which ship I'd picked,

Spark thought to her.

You could man any station on her. The point is to not let others know that you could. Spacers have their own culture. You're allegedly a Grounder. You need to act like one.

I understand, Jamie. Really, I do. I will do my best,

she answered.

You just help me understand any mid-course corrections. And by the way...

"why do they call this Broadway?" she switched back to audible. "It is not that wide, and the deck plans call it Main Corridor One, or MC1."

"A naval holdover from a long time ago," he smiled, "when the continuous passage down the long axis of the warship was named after a famous city street."

"Oh!" she brightened. "You mean like Broadway Boulevard in Old New York. Before it was destroyed."

"Yep," he nodded, cocking his head to listen to the voices coming from up ahead. "And I think that's going to be our Wardroom." When they got there, though, they discovered the sounds were coming down a ladderwell.

"Oh, fucking lovely," Spark exhaled in mild irritation, looking at the climb.

"Honey," Tonya murmured as she started taking a bag from him, "you go ahead and climb up and I will pass the bags to you." Spark knew better than to argue, so he climbed the ladder to the deck above and turned to take a bag.

"Catch!" she told him impishly, then tossed the first duffle. It cleared his head easily and he had to grab it on the way up, before it hit the deck overhead.

"Easier on the next one," he called down to her. "Like a

normal

person?" She tossed up the second with only a little less velocity, then rapidly scrambled up the ladder, almost a blur.

"Wow!" she smiled to Spark. "I have not had a chance to practice on a ladder in a long time."

"You need to dial it down and stop showing off," he told her quietly as he picked up both bags. "We don't want to stand out."

"Oops?" she smiled coyly. "Yes, sir, husband, sir..." She batted her eyes at him for a couple of moments, until he rolled his, turned and headed towards the voices.

Turning right, into a hatch, Spark and Tonya found themselves in a compartment a lot larger than a standard wardroom. Of course, there were a lot more people in there as well. Conversation fell off as they stepped in.

"And you are...?" a woman in the stripes of a Second Officer asked from the far end of the central table.

"Jamie McLeod, your Comm Ops, ma'am," Spark answered. "And my wife, Elizabeth." The woman looked down at her clipboard.

"Right. Newlyweds. Helluva honeymoon."

What? You're sharing a brain with Richards?

Spark thought sarcastically.

"I'm Grimm," she went on. "JO on this tub."

Case in point

, Spark thought.

Aptly named

.

"We're waiting on Medical and Deck Ops," Grimm continued. "There's go-juice and rolls on the bulkhead sideboard. Help yourselves."

Spark took the time to scan the crew as he and Tonya moved towards an empty spot along the wall.

"Honey," he asked Tonya, "why don't you go grab us something?" He wanted to watch them watch her. As he would have predicted, half the crew of both sexes were avidly interested in her. The other half seemed stoned out of their gourds.

Sure hope the Stoners aren't the flight crew

, he thought wryly as he looked around.

The usual mix

, he decided.

About one-third officers and flight crew, two-thirds deck apes and lumpers. Couple of surprises, though. Several Canilupes, both dogs and bitches. And a few Gorman - the big brutes that are half-again a man's size. They'd be part of the lumping gang. Just have to remember to stay upwind of them.

Spark was still assessing his traveling companions when Tonya returned with some synthetic coffee and sweet rolls, at about the same time that two men and two women entered. One of them was Richards. The four made their way to where Grimm was standing. When they got there, one of the women turned and addressed the crew.

"Your attention," she said, barely above conversational tones, but man, did her voice carry! Spark was impressed. So was everyone else, who shut up and listened.

"I am Captain Michelle Germaine of the freighter

Aquila

. My friends call me Mike. You are not my friends. You will call me Captain. You have already met my Executive Officer, Mister Richards, and my Junior Officer, Mister Grimm. The other two standing with me are Dr. Meade, our ship's doctor..." The other woman standing with her stepped forward a little and nodded. "And Mister Carne, our Deck Operations. Where's Nelson?"

A petite blonde with thick glasses and huge tits raised her hand.

"Purser and Navigation. Where's McLeod?" Spark stood forward a little and raised his hand.

"Communications. Where's Schmidt?" A burly fellow raised his hand. "Mess. These are the people you don't want to piss off. The XO's got berthing assignments for the officers and flight crew, the JO's got berthing assignments for everyone else. You've got two hours to get your shit wired and report to your pre-flight. You will be flight ready in four hours. Any questions?"

She paused a moment, but no one spoke. "Okay, no questions. Dismissed."

"Officers and flight up here!" Richards called out.

"Everybody else, follow me," Grimm seconded and headed for the hatch.

* * * * *

Richards had been efficient in doling out berthing and some terse advice on the layout and quirks of the ship. The Captain, XO and JO all had individual cabins with private heads. The rest of the senior flight crew, which included Spark and Tonya, had private berths but shared a communal head. The rest of Flight had double-bunk berths and shared a communal head, separate from the Seniors .

Everybody, from the Captain on down, ate in the Wardroom, and they ate the same slop. Which is why you didn't want to piss off the Cook. The Captain had a separate Flight Room off the bridge for meetings.

Everyone was given a map for their P-com's, with their berths, stations and points of interest. The

Aquila

would be run on Ship's Normal Time, with three 8-hour shifts. The Captain normally took the first shift, the XO would take the second and the JO would take the third. Spark would get first shift and he had two flight crewmen under him for the other two shifts, one of whom was a Canilupe bitch.

They were also given a crew directory, and it was pointed out that their Personal Communicators would act as a shipboard intercom. They were told where to rendezvous for their pre-flight and cut loose to go stow their gear.

"It's gonna be fucking tight in here," Spark commented as he and Tonya checked out their quarters.

"It will not be tight while fucking,

Jamie

," Tonya commented, looking around. "Unless you mean me, which I can do, if that is what you want."

"No, I was just referring to the living space," he smiled. "Standard officer rack, 250x90cm. The guys in the doubles have a flip down 90cm above the bottom one. But at least we've got a decent wardrobe and basin, plus the workstation. In case you care, the cargo monkeys get triple-stacked 200x75x75's."

"I am sure the bed will be big enough for us,

husband

," Tonya assured him. "I will make sure we get plenty of sleep. What is this mesh rolled up along the edge of the bed?"

"Attaches to the bulkhead if the ship has to turn off the artificial gravity. Makes a little pod to float in. For one person, it isn't too bad. For two of us, it can get a bit dicey, bumping into each other and all. There's straps and stuff we can use in that case. Oh..." Spark walked up to the berth and lifted the mattress. "There's storage space under the bunk, too, if we want it. So let's get our stuff stored."

"I love it..." Tonya smiled as she moved to start sorting out the contents of her duffel. "Zero-G... straps... you, strapped down..." Spark snorted and shook his head. She had taken a fancy to his kind of sex, and hers was all over the map. Irresistible to a Runner. He fell in with her, sorting out his stuff. He'd made sure they had come prepared for a month on a freighter, and that he'd come prepared to be a functioning member of the crew. As he'd found out earlier in his career, laundry was rudimentary in the Merchant Marine, so socks and underwear took precedence over flight suits. Tonya had opted for utilitarian coveralls, too.

"So what is your plan of action, Jamie?" Tonya asked softly as she worked. She had no idea who might be listening, so she was keeping to their assumed identities and keeping her voice down.

"Figure out what the Captain wants, then do it," he told her simply. "Unless there's a major hiccup, I'll be monitoring communications traffic for eight hours a day, then turning it over to someone else who will do the same thing and then turn it over to someone else, who will eventually turn it back over to me. During my down time, we'll be expected to socialize. Gambling is big on freighter runs, and drinking, especially with the cargo gang since they have little to do -- as long as you make your duty call, they don't usually give you shit. With you and me being newlyweds, they'll understand it if we want to spend a lot of our free time behind closed doors."

"Do you mind if I make friends, while you are working?" Tonya asked in passing.

"Why?" Spark thought to ask. Making friends wasn't all that conducive to making a stealthy entry onto Mars.

"Well, I have never known a Gorman, or a Canilupe," she answered with a sort of innocent curiosity. "I mean, I know

of

them, but I do not

know

them. And I would like to."

"As long as, if it's

know

in the Biblical sense, you realize you have to be

very

careful..." Spark told her. "I guess it's up to you." Tonya looked shocked.

"You can have sex with an alien?" she asked, completely surprised.

"

Oh, blessed mother...

" Spark muttered to himself, then stood up. "Yeah, it's possible. If you are very, very careful. Think about it, Lizzie." Then he switched to their link.

What's getting carried around in you, all bottled up?

"Oh, yeah. That is right," she nodded. "Well... I think it is going to be an interesting flight."

That's one word for it

, Spark thought as they finished getting their gear stowed.

* * * * *

The pre-flight briefing had been instructive. Not because of the Ops side... that had been fairly routine. It was the "rules of social engagement" laid out by Richards that caught Spark's attention.

"There will be no violence on this ship," Richards told the assembled Flight crew. "And that includes sexual assault, which you will

not

be surprised to learn

can

be committed by women. Self defense is acceptable.

Starting

a fight will get you spaced. And the Captain is just enough of a bitch to do it. Believe me. I've seen it. Provoking a fight will get you the brig and you will forfeit your pay. Same for drunkenness, if it affects your duties. If you want to fuck, find someplace private. There's plenty of nooks and crannies on this scow for you to get creative.

"Gambling is permitted, cheating is not. The first time you're caught cheating, it's two days in the brig and half your pay goes to whoever has to cover your station. If you get sick, you won't be docked pay but you will be expected to report to sick bay and do whatever the hell the Doc tells you to do. If you want to earn some extra cash, sign up for the galley. They always need help. You won't get rich, but it can pad out your Liberty pool. If you're not on duty, stay the hell out of the way of the people who're working. Questions?"

Two hands went up. "Yeah?" the XO nodded to one of them, a mid-twenties human female.

"Any limits on hot water, XO? Like, the showers?" she asked.

"We recycle our fresh water where we can," he told her, "but there's timers in the showers so we don't waste it. If you have to hit the timer more than twice, you're using too much water. Yeah?" He nodded to the other hand.

"Any limits on grub, XO?" the heavyset human male asked.

"If you want more of this tub's chow, more power to you," he told him and the others laughed. "Mess will tell you if you've had too much. Anything else?" There didn't seem to be any additional questions, so he told the crew, "lift-off is slotted for thirteen-hundred SNT. That's in about two hours. First shift to your stations an hour ahead of time. Make sure your checks are done so we can get the hell off this rock when our slot comes up. Dismissed."

Spark turned to Tonya, who had chosen to attend with her new "husband."

"You want to go fuck our brains out before I have to go on duty?" he asked with a slight smile. Tonya was almost always in the mood. This time she surprised him.

"Can we talk about me maybe working in the galley?" she asked instead of answering him.

"You want to work on this trip?" Spark asked, surprised.

"Yes," she told him, in earnest. "One, it will give me something to do so I am not bored out of my mind. Two, what better place to pick up on all the juicy gossip?"

"Why not?" Spark shrugged. "We'll still have one shift together, minimum. I'm good with that. Talk to Chief Schmidt. He's got Mess. By the way, he's got extensive time-in-service in the Navy before he medical'd out. Pretty good cook. Gruff on the outside, but kindly if he likes you, according to his evals."

Have you been hacking the ship's records?

Tonya asked over the link as they walked towards their quarters. Spark just shrugged. Tonya shook her head, but smiled. He just couldn't keep his hand out of the cookie jar.