'Finally,' he continued, 'I'm concerned about the ship's AI. I have never dealt with artificial intelligence that close to sentience. It scares me a little. I was able to convince it that I had bought the yacht from her previous owner, and that I was a businessman and was concerned about duplicity by my trading partners. That's how I explained running away from the Terror's fleet. But with the traveling I'm going to have to do and the things I'll need to do, I can't keep coming up with stories and muddling through. I need a top comp expert that can set a firm cover story, and maybe even make it loyal to me, if that's possible.'
Yan leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. 'I saw you land,' he said thoughtfully. 'She is a pretty thing. I'll be kinda sorry to mess her up. A disguise, eh? Hmm.'
After a moment, he swung forward again, dropping his arms. 'Well, she's about the size of one of the armed couriers the Empire Fleet used to use. They called 'em 'stingers,' because they were small, but had some nasty weapons. There never were very many of 'em. They were mostly used for fast, secure communications and high- value shipments between Prime and the Sector Viceroys. They carried a crew of five, and had two Alliance-style quickfirers mounted on the centerline. Add a few extra hull plates to change her shape, and I think we can make her look like one of those. We might even have room under the phony hull plates to actually install those quickfirers!' He was becoming excited at the challenge. 'The orbital scrap yard has all kinds of military junk.' He straightened and grinned at John. 'This is gonna be fun!'
John was not as excited. 'What about the AI?'
Yan shrugged. 'The best comp man on the planet is Rey Teros. He works as an independent consultant. Nowadays, he only takes on jobs he likes. But he owes me a favor, and if I wave enough quants under his nose, he'll do it.
'I've got money…' John started.
Yan waved a dismissal. 'No, you don't. Not on this planet. You can't even buy a damned sandwich.' He keyed a speaker on his desk. 'Evie? Listen. I want a credit chit with, oh, say, fifty thousand quants on it. No, not a company chit. Strictly cash. When? Now, of course!'
He sat back and regarded John soberly. 'So, can you tell me your plans? Anything I can help with?
John shook his head. 'No, my plans are only firm as far as getting the ship modded and then heading for the Old Empire. I'll need to stop somewhere for some body sculpting to change my appearance. After that I'll either try to find courier runs or try to find a nice, quiet planet where I can retire.'
Yan snorted. 'Retire? You? You won't last a year. I think you'd better be working on a plan C, because you've already learned you're no trader, and your plan B is ridiculous!'
John smiled. 'Don't count on it. I was once a quiet, civilized attorney, remember?'
Yan smiled. 'Yeah. And you ended up in a slave coffle!'
Work began on the Azure Sky immediately. Yan's yard had the specs on almost all of the ships used by the Empire, and they decided his plans were feasible. The big man seemed to really enjoy the challenge offered by the conversion.
The orbital scrap yard had only one of the quickfirers, but by retrofitting a larger fusactor, Yan was able to fit a heavy laser under the dummy hull plates. 'You'll have to aim both of your weapons by aiming the ship,' he told John. 'There was no room to fit turrets. We'll program the AI with all the targeting programs necessary, so you'll still be a one-man ship.'
The modifications made the renamed Scorpion remarkably lethal for her size. The quickfirer fired tiny rockets some twenty millimeters in diameter. However, the rockets were plated with collapsed metal, and massed 100 kilos in a one-G field. They were effective on anything up to a destroyer, and had been one of the most effective general-purpose weapons in the Old Empire's arsenal. The laser Yan mounted on Scorpion had been removed from an Old Empire destroyer. Together, the two weapons gave John the firepower of an Old Empire corvette, in a much smaller package. John would have a surprise for any pirate that attacked him.
Time dragged, and despite Yan's hospitality, John was getting nervous by the time Yan considered Scorpion ready for delivery after six weeks. By now, John had to assume that Townley had secured his command. Fat with the loot of Atlantea, the fleet would not be restive, and Townley would feel secure enough to come searching for John, and post bounties along the way.
John had been scanning the Stellar Index for possible havens when the comm buzzed. It was Yan, of course, and he had a grim expression on his face. “Two men just left my office,” he said without preface. They were looking for the owner of that small courier in the yard. They didn’t know his name.” Two security cam pictures filled the screen.
John snapped to attention. The faces were familiar, of course. “Yamesh and Barned,” he said. “They like to work as an assassination team. They enjoy the killing,” he added. Townley had found him already.
Yan’s fat face was stricken. “Then you’ll have to kill them, won’t you?” He would certainly have to try. At his wordless nod, tears began streaming down the ample cheeks. “John, I’m sorry, but I can’t kill someone. I never could, even on Peltir. I just can’t!”
Despite the dagger of fear in his own chest, he felt terrible for Yan. Yan was one of the gentlest people in the universe. Somehow, he had retained that gentility even through years of slavery. No, He’d have to face the killers, but no matter what the risk, he would keep Yan totally out of it.
“It’s all right, Yan. You know I would never ask that of you. Did they leave contact information?”
Looking somewhat reassured, but still worried, Yan nodded. “They’re staying at a hotel near the port in the club district.”
He was thinking hard. “Low rent area? Run down? Slummy?”
A weak smile surfaced on Yan’s face. “Very. Lots of cheap bars and hookers.” He brightened, “Say, I’ve got some pretty tough boys out in the yard…” he trailed off as he saw John's head shaking ‘no’.
“Not a chance, Yan,” John insisted. “I don’t want you involved if there’s any rough stuff.” Then, suddenly a thought occurred to him. “Say, Yan, maybe there doesn't have to be any rough stuff. Does Jackson subscribe to the Sector-Wide Wanted List service?”
Surprise lit his features. “Of course. Every civilized planet in the sector uses it. I understand the Patrol uses it to run the names of incoming passengers.”
John nodded, getting excited now. “I’m sure these two came in on fake papers. But they’re wanted as pirates on over a dozen planets in this sector alone; and pirates are subject to summary execution, without trial. Suppose a reputable citizen, say a shipyard owner, were to call the Patrol and report some suspicious characters asking suspicious questions about a ship in his yard.”
A slow smile grew across Yan’s features. “Why, I’ll bet they’d want to take another look at those characters’ papers, and maybe even run their DNA against the Wanted list. If they’re as bad as you say, the government probably wouldn’t even bother with a trial.”
John was grinning, now. “Yep. I can see the headlines on the Worldweb now: ‘Local Yard Owner Helps Capture Pirates’. They might even vote you a reward; these are very bad people.”
Relief was warring with a wide grin on the fat face. “And neither of us has to kill anyone or be killed.”
“Right,” John replied. And better yet,' he added, “there will be a record of what happened to them. If they just disappeared, Townley might get suspicious and send another team. This way, I get a clean head start.”
Yan wrestled his face into a scowl. “Well! I think I had better do my plain civic duty. You might want to stick around your hotel room for a day or so. Theirs aren’t the only pictures on that list, you know.”
John smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m afraid James Yor-Tarken is coming down with something that will take at least three days to cure.”
Yan’s face took on a concerned look. “Oh, I’m so sorry, sire Yor-Tarken. The yard will of course send condolences. You are, after all, a rather substantial customer.”
By the time Yor-Tarken’s illness had passed, the pirates had been arrested, identified and the executions carried out. Yan was a local hero, which he was enjoying immensely, and Scorpion ’s transformation was complete.
John's relief was palpable when Rey Teros finally introduced him to his new AI and explained its modifications.
'As you requested,' the wizened little man began, 'We retained the name of 'Tess' for your AI. We have programmed her to be loyal to you only. If you sell the vessel, I'm afraid some major reprogramming will be required.' He looked disapproving. 'I do not approve of loyalty circuits. They render the Artificial Intelligence vulnerable to amateur and unintended program conflicts. However,' he continued, 'the circuits were present, and
