Jolo pressed the door comm, “May we enter?”
The man seemed to gain some composure, and pressed a comm link on the back wall. “You here to rescue us or steal cargo?”
“Well, rescue, of course, would be our primary concern at this particular juncture,” said Greeley in the most politest Federation lingo he could muster.
“Rescuers generally don’t carry weapons,” the man said, the end of his weapon now pointed down.
“Why’d the BG ship attack? What was in the black box?” said Jolo.
“I’m not at liberty to divulge the particulars until you show me your ID.”
“You mean like, uh, Fed papers and all?” said Greeley, a shade less polite than before.
“Yes, like that,” the man said.
Greeley gave Jolo a questioning look, and Jolo shrugged and nodded okay.
“Here’s my papers right here,” said Greeley and blasted a hole where the door lock was. Jolo slid the door open, the air inside clean and cool.
Jolo and Greeley stepped into the room with the sweet smelling air and were instantly pulled down by the gravity generator. Jolo found his feet and nearly stumbled and Greeley fell down but kept Betsy on the man with the weapon the whole time.
The man stepped backwards, holding his arm out to move the lady behind him protectively. Not a military man, thought Jolo, putting the girl in harms way, he should have pushed her to the side, though his heart was in the right place. For a moment the man just stared at Jolo.
And then his face turned sour.
“I know who you are. You are the synth, Jolo Vargas. I've seen the wave reports,” his fear slightly buffered by anger. “You, Sir, are an affront to humanity. An abomination. I'm gonna tell you right now you are not Jolo Vargas. He was our hero. Bad enough you being a synth. But you took a dead man's body. He was a great man. You're just a frakkin synth. Nothing more." He spat in Jolo's direction, his eyes darting back and forth like a cornered animal.
“Well that ain’t too dang nice. Not nice at all. Seeing how we come all this way to perform a rescue operation,” said Greeley.
The crewman suddenly raised his weapon, the strap clear of the trigger. Jolo shot the weapon out of the man’s hands and it fell to the ground. The man rubbed his right hand in pain. “You could’ve killed me,” he yelled, visibly shaken.
“Nope, if he’d’ve wanted you dead, you’d be dead. He don’t miss,” said Greeley. And then he got back to the point: “What was in the black box?”
“We didn’t have a black box,” said the man.
“And what y’all dancin’ for?” said Greeley. The man looked at the woman as if she was going to explain, but she ignored him.
“You are lying about the box,” said Jolo. And then Jolo and Greeley went into their well-rehearsed bit to scare info out of freighter crew.
“Captain, we cain’t be leaving none behind to sqwauk about our whereabouts and such,” said Greeley, stepping forward aggressively, Betsy pointed at the man’s head.
“That’s right. Jolo Vargas ain’t one to take prisoners,” said Jolo, rubbing his chin.
“And he is one low-down sumbitch!” said Greeley, getting into his role, though a bit off-script, eyes all lit up. Jolo gave Greeley a quick, raised eyebrows, please-shut-up look.
“Yes, yes, he is,” continued Jolo, steering the dialogue back on course. “He’s got a synth brain that don't care much for humanly emotion and such.” And then he eyed Greeley. “Why he'd just as soon have one of his brainless, knuckle-draggin' henchmen do his dirty work for him.” And then it was Greeley's turn to give Jolo a look. Then Jolo pointed the Colt at the man. “Tell me, what was in the black box and I'll let you live for a little while longer.”
The crewman was on his knees now, stammering and slobbering. “I’m sorry,” he said with a shaky voice. “They don’t tell us what’s inside.”
“Where’d you pick up the box?” said Jolo.
“I don’t know,” said the man, then his head jerked up. “Might’ve got it in Corpus 2. There was a brief, unscheduled stop there, put us behind a few hours.”
Jolo was convinced the man didn’t know, in fact, he felt sorry for him.
“What happened when the BG boat came?”
“They said they were getting close for support. But then they opened up on us. We knew their guns were hot, but thought it was because they were going to protect us. We lost the captain and pretty much everyone else.”
“Captain, I think he’s holding out on the black box info. I’m gonna wing him once or twice and see if it don’t jog his memory a little,” said Greeley.
The woman watched her would-be protector, the freighter man, start to blubber and cry, his earlier burst of angry defiance now faded, still rubbing his hand. His broken weapon on the floor at his feet.
She walked up to Jolo, blue dress, pretty face and long brown hair. She put her hand on his shoulder, “Does a synth-man have all the requisite parts?” Her fingers glided down his arm and she held his hand. “I could make it worth your while if you let us go.”
Jolo was speechless.
