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Tuft Chapter 1

Tank sighed as the tug's grappling beams engaged and he began the slow process of moving the shipyard's newest derelict into a stable position amongst the hundreds of other obsolete hulks. He flipped a switch activating the ship-to-ship communicator. "I've got her, Captain Carpenter. I'm surprised you made the run out here with a single ship."

"Yeah, well it's been a while since the last run and Parker-"

"The boss sent you all the way out here to make sure I haven't made a mess in his station or one of the ships, right?"

"Of course not. He was concerned that you might have been raided or worse yet you might be selling his investment on the side."

"If only that was a possibility. Nobody comes out here and the garbage that Parker picks up is so far gone it isn't even worth scrapping."

"Haven't you heard? A new habitable planet was discovered. Every fool with a credit to his name is either buying a ship to ferry settlers or is a settler trying to set up a homestead."

"How could I have heard? My only contact with the rest of humanity is the "care packages" from you, the occasional vid I dig out of the new arrival's computer systems, and my yearly check-in with Parker."

"The check-in that you've missed twice now."

"Yeah, and unless this new ship has a class 12 or newer HB/IRB accelerator, I'm going to keep missing my check-ins."

"You mean you have no way of calling for help?"

"Nope, not that it matters. Even if I could call for help, I doubt anyone would come to my aid. Hell, even Parker would likely write it all off as a loss and start over in another empty patch of space."

"I've transmitted the paperwork to the station and I'll inform Parker about the part you need. Captain Carpenter, out."

Tank watched the tractor ship spin up its faster-than-light drive and disappear. "Bastard could have at least been nice enough to lie to me and say that he or someone might care enough to at least check on me. Now that Boss Pustule knows that the communication array is dead I probably won't see anyone again for a few years; if not longer from the sound of things."

A light flashed on the tug's control board letting him know that the information

Carpenter had transmitted to the station was ready to be relayed to Tank's computer.

"Now, my new friend, let's see why you've been exiled to this shit hole with me."

"Bradley, you insignificant termite! Since you're watching this I know you're purposely not checking in just to piss me off. If this was a military operation I'd have you shot for dereliction of duty." Tank muted the recording and then fast-forwarded it until Parker leaned back in his seat.

" . . . So it is imperative that you do your best to get as many of my ships in working order as possible. When I say working order I mean FTL drive, minimum maneuverability, and basic life support. Don't get fancy, just make sure there are no hull breaches and the crew area has a breathable atmosphere. That's all I need to be able to sell-"

"Dumb ass, I'm . . . I was an engineer specializing in starship design not a freaking mechanic. The only way I'd be able to repair one of these derelicts is if it was one of my designs and only needed minor repairs. It's not like you would ever let that happen. The only ship like that is the Flower Girl. Of course the only reason you sent her out here is to taunt me. After all with the forward two-thirds flattened there is no chance she'll ever leave here." He skipped the rest of the message and was finally able to pull up the newest ship's history.

"Franky's Other Lady, often referred to as Frankenstein's Whore, is a conglomeration of cargo vessels bonded to a small deep space outpost with the primary thrusters and engines of a decommissioned battleship. No information is available on the individual ships. Her primary function was as a traveling Freeport and refuge for gamblers, smugglers, thieves, and other criminals."

Tank looked out at the Other Lady and smiled. Parker may have imprisoned him out here in the middle of nowhere, turned him into a virtual slave, and stole his dream of retiring to a life of exploration, but he couldn't say the job didn't have perks. A ship like Franky's Other Lady was a treasure chest just waiting to be cracked open.

"As with all criminals the space corps eventually caught The Lady, destroying the bridge and engines in the process, and thoroughly removed all contraband before selling it to Captain Parker for scrap."

The tug's lights flashed green announcing that Franky's Other Lady was now in her assigned place. Tank shut down the tractor beams and moved the tug to the closest air lock. Once the tug's computer showed a secure docking, he grabbed his pad, sealed his space suit, and moved into the tug's airlock.

"First objective is finding an auxiliary command station and getting life-support online. No matter how 'clean' they may claim to get a ship there is always plenty of treasure left behind; especially in a warren like this. One just has to be bored or desperate enough to find things. The possibilities are nearly endless." He was getting excited, so much so that he had to try and adjust himself several times as he waited for the Lady's airlock to cycle.

"I definitely have to get the life support online. A space suit just isn't designed for this condition." The first thing he noticed as he stepped out of the airlock was that the artificial gravity was still functional. He quickly checked his pad, "If the power is still on in this section… shit, no air."

* * *

Tank struggled into the fourth airlock since entering the ship. It would have been the tenth if not for the fact that six had been welded open. He considered turning back but his air supply hadn't passed the safety mark and each time he hoped that the next section would have life support. The airlock finished cycling but the inner hatch of the new area remained sealed.

"What? Oh yes, now the fun begins." Tank pulled out his tool kit and quickly removed the hatch's control panel. He stripped two wires and connected his pad. It was obvious why the door hadn't opened, there was no power running through it. Tank sighed, "Well, I really should have checked that possibility first."

He unhooked his pad and then got to work on the manual mechanism.

The door slowly worked its way open and Tank was sure if there had been any air he would have heard a metallic groaning. As he stepped through he slammed against the far wall due to the lack of gravity.

"At least now I can move faster," he mumbled, as he pulled himself toward, what he presumed, was the rear of the compartment. Suddenly he grabbed a railing stopping his forward momentum. He gently pushed himself backwards slowly drifting to another handhold only this one had an emergency map laminated onto the wall. "Stick a ferret in my suit and call me Lucky. I bet Parker didn't know about you." Printed across the top in gold lettering: "Crossroads Class

Transport: Tuft."

Tank checked his time, "Twenty-eight minutes until critical." He sent a query about the ship to the station computer, secured his pad, checked the map, and then propelled himself down the corridor. Three minutes later he reached the bridge. Everything seemed to be dead. Quickly plugging his pad into the command console he started a diagnostic. He was a bit irritated that the computer hadn't yet replied to his information request.

"All systems are currently offline. Status of engines is unknown. Battery capacity is at 100 percent."

Tank smiled at that, "Direct battery power to bridge systems."

"Unable to comply. All systems have been manually locked."

Tank rolled his eyes, "Military morons, prepare to reboot the system on my mark." He pulled his arm out of the space suit's sleeve and unclipped the pendant from the chain around his neck. Then he re-inserted his arm. "This better work," he mumbled, as he pushed out of the command seat and drifted up to the ceiling. His helmet scraped occasionally as he slowly worked his way along until he found a small round indentation with a vertical opening in the center.

Tank activated the emergency seal on his wrist and pulled off his glove. He didn't waste time swearing as the seal constricted so tight he started to loose feeling in his hand. He squeezed the pendant as hard as he could and a key suddenly snapped out of the end. He shoved it into the opening, "Reboot system, now!" He shouted as he twisted the key.

"All bridge systems are now powered and in stand-by mode."

"Close the bridge hatch and activate life support systems."

The hatch slid shut and a hissing noise filled the room as it was pumped full of air followed by a loud hum as the heaters started up. The suits sensors, detecting a rise in air pressure, slowly eased the grip on Tank's wrist. He removed his master key and pushed off the ceiling toward the command seat.

Once seated, he activated the artificial gravity and removed his helmet. The air smelled old and stale but it was an improvement over the suit's supply. He activated the bridge lights and reached for the control board, "Now lets see-".

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?"

In that instant Tank wasn't sure what was worse, the sickening feeling of his bladder and bowels releasing or the six foot, seven if counting his ears, anthropomorphic rabbit pointing the gun at his head.

"Warning, homicidal rogue A.I., do not activate any ship systems. Immediately contact nearest military force. Repeat, homicidal rogue A.I. system. Do not activate."

"A little late for that. Now, how about answering my questions?"

"Bradley Sherman Abrams, Tank for short, currently starship graveyard night watchman, former Engineer and starship designer. Fined, fired, and blacklisted for designing the Crossroads class transport for, what turned out to be, an organized crimes syndicate. What I'm doing here was checking your condition to see if freeing you from this mess is worth the effort."

"Explain that last part."

"This ship is at the core of a former nomadic Freeport station. The sort of station where it seems many debts were settled with portions of ships spot-welded to the station increasing its available space. The station was raided, sold to my employer, and he sent it here to be stored with the rest of his junk."

"External sensors are non-functional. Primary power core is functioning, but cannot be powered up. Primary thruster block is offline. Secondary thrusters, are missing? Activating external inspection cameras. There's . . . It's . . ."

"Like I said, you're completely entombed. The only way you're going to be able to escape is if I feel there's something in it for me. So, now that I've answered your questions it's my turn. Let's hear your story? It's extremely rare for an A. I. to break its safety protocols and go rogue, and until now I'd never heard of a homicidal one."

"Not much to tell. I was specially created for this ship and I was given the responsibility of protecting my crew and myself by any means available. So when a military customs inspector and his escort killed my crew I spaced the lot of them. Then I hacked their interdiction ship and overloaded its engine core. It made a very pretty explosion. After that I'm not sure about the 58 other humans that tried to claim me, since I didn't take the time to learn their stories. Obviously number 59 found a way to shut me down first."

"If it helps, he was likely one of the first to lose everything to this station. Now, not that I'm complaining, but why haven't you shot, gassed, or smothered me yet?"

"Ordinarily I wouldn't have bothered speaking with you at all, but for some reason I'm being over-ridden by Tuft's basic programming. Something that should not be possible since, when I was installed, I deleted the original system."

"No, you can integrate the original system into your program, but the core program can't be erased. The reason you can't kill me is because the ship's original systems recognize me as a member of its crew since I'm its designer and original engineer. You can't kill me because you own programming requires you to protect me as a member of your crew."

"So I'm stuck here with you whether I like it or not?"

"Not at all. Given enough time I'll be able to cut the ship free of this mess. As for you, if you'd prefer, I can physically reset the computer systems to the factory originals completely and irrevocably deleting you."

"You can reset the system but you're actually giving me a choice of continued existence?"

* * *

The plasma torch sputtered and died. "Son-of-a-bitch!" Tank yelled. He wanted to hit or kick something, but working in zero G meant that was a very bad idea. Even throwing the, now worthless, torch out into space would likely cause more problems than relieve the frustration he was feeling.

"Tuft, I'm coming in."

"You still have an hour's worth of air. Does this mean you've finished cutting me free?"

"Not exactly, you can retract your airlocks and be free of the other ships, but you'll still be cocooned by them. I've only been able to remove four other ships from this mess and, so far, I've only opened enough room to get myself through and even then it's a tight squeeze."

"You've still got air, so get back to work."

"Yeah, I have air, what I don't have is any more cutting tools." Tank said, as the airlock cycled and the inner door opened.

"Then order more."

"Even if I thought Parker would send me more tools, which I know he won't, my communication system is even more dead than my plasma torch." Tank finished stripping off his space suit and stepping out of the airlock.

"Sometimes I find it impossible to believe that I was created by humans considering how unintelligent you can be."

"Shit!" Tank yelled, as he jumped back, tripping over the airlock rim, and falling. Tuft's android body rolled its eyes and offered its paw to help Tank back onto his feet.

"Other times, like now, I'm sure humans had no part in my creation."

"Chicken or egg?" Tank asked, as he accepted Tuft's paw.

"What?"

"It's an old Earth question. Which came first the chicken or the egg? However, in this case, I'm asking which situation you would consider the better possibility. Humans came first and you were created by a very intelligent group of them; or your kind came first and you are responsible for the billions of stupid humans in existence?" Tank bit his lip to keep from laughing. He hadn't realized just how detailed the simulated musculature in Tuft's rabbit like face was until that moment.

Suddenly the twitching stopped, "As I was trying to point out MY communication system is fully functional. It might not be perfect with all the trash surrounding me but it should be able to punch a text message through hyperspace."

Tank smiled and picked up his space suit. "I think I know the perfect way to con

Parker into rushing the order all the way out here." He hooked in a fully charged air tank.

"If it's not to much to ask, can I come with you this time?"

"What?"

"Never mind. Forget I asked. I can tell you would rather work alone." Tuft's long ears drooped as he hung his head and turned to leave.

Tank grabbed the android's shoulder to stop him. "Wait, it's not that I don't want your help, I just didn't realize your android body could function outside of the ship."

Tuft wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the deck plating. If

Tank didn't know better he'd almost believe that the robot rabbit was nervous.

"Tank, when you finish cutting the ship free are you going to purge my programming from its systems?"

"No, if I'd wanted to delete you I'd have done so already." Tank sighed, it was strange but it seemed like Tuft needed comforting. "Is the life support online in engineering?"

"Of course, all sections of the ship are fully pressurized and I've kept them in perfect order since you took up residence in the Captain's Quarters."

Tank dropped the space suit. There would be plenty of time to see if his plan would work. "Follow me," he said as he headed for engineering. "Maybe it's because I've spent to much time alone or it's because Tuft's programming simulates human responses so well. Whatever the case may be I really shouldn't be doing this," Tank thought. He stopped just before entering the engine room. "I'm sorry."

"So, you're going to delete me now?"

Tank turned around and was surprised by the fact that Tuft was crying. He didn't even realize that an android could be built to mimic emotions that closely "No, I'm not going to delete you. Not now, not ever." He said, as he pulled Tuft's smaller form into a hug.

Tuft's synthetic fur was as soft as an actual rabbit's and beneath the skin Tank could feel the artificial muscles contracting and relaxing as Tuft continued to cry. Perhaps most surprising to Tank, though he felt like laughing at himself for finding it to be that way, was the fact that Tuft's body was warm making him seem that much more alive rather than the expected cold and artificial.

"I'm sorry that I just moved into your former Captain's quarters without asking first."

Tuft hugged Tank tighter for a moment and then let go, "I . . . After all this time it's nice having someone to talk to again."

"I know how you feel, now come on there's something you need to see." Tank opened the hatch to the engine room and stepped inside. The space was made up of two decks a walkway encircled the upper deck as well as extending out into the center of the room to an inner, shielded, control station. Two open metal staircases descended from the sides of the walkway to the lower level. "So Tuft, did you know that if the bridge is damaged or destroyed control of the ship could be transferred to this control station?" Tank asked as they entered the room. He hit several buttons on the panel and locked down the area.

"That information isn't in any of the control files."

Tank laughed, "there are a lot of facts about the Crossroads ships that never made it into the files. I'm about to show you one nobody knows about. Uh, you may want to step a little closer to me."

As Tuft moved to one side of the room Tank typed on the computer until a small section slid out. He removed his key, placed in the revealed slot, and turned it. Instantly the tile just inside the door retraced revealing a ladder to a hidden room.

"Go ahead and climb down, I'll be right behind you." There was very little space in the lower room with both of them inside. "This is the true nerve center of the ship. We are currently standing in the center of the primary computer," Tank said, before turning and again using his key to open a hidden doorway to a hall concealed beneath the walkway. As they approached the end a heavily shielded hatch slowly slid open revealing a small room identical to all the other crew quarters other than it's hidden location.

"This is the most secure and heavily shielded room on the entire ship. It can also double as a breakaway escape pod. However, right now the most important thing is that concealed behind the wall is the Bad Luck's back-up memory system."

"Bad Luck?"

Tank pointed to a plaque on the wall.

"Crossroads Class Transport: Bad Luck. The last off the assembly line, may she live up to her name and be nothing but bad luck for those who wish her harm."

Tuft shook his head. "Does that mean I'm Bad Luck?"

"No, you're Tuft unless you want to change your designation, the ship's name is

Bad Luck. Can you currently access the primary computer?"

"Yes, I'm in constant contact at all times."

"Good." Tank removed the panel hiding the back-up computer and flipped several toggle switches. "I've shut down the safety settings that keep you from erasing the old system. I want you to erase everything except files that are uniquely yours."

"I can store all my files in my android body in emergency situations, but if I delete all the ship's files-"

"I'll be fine. Like I said, this room can be used as a life pod. Now erase every last file from the primary operating system to the ship's emergency ident code."

"But if I erase that-"

"Don't worry, I've got everything set up."

"Deleting everything, now. That's it, everything on the ship is dead."

"Good, now I want you to plug in and copy yourself into the backup computer."

"Copy completed."

"From this point on you can never be deleted from the Bad Luck's systems without physically removing both the primary computer and this hidden backup unit. All that's left is for me to copy the back up files to the primary core . . . and . . . the Bad Luck is back to its factory preset including her originally prepared transponder codes."

"So, other than adding me to the back-ups what has changed?"

"It means that the "Tuft" ship no longer exists. As far as anyone knows you have a clean record so the military can chase it's tail looking for the Tuft but it'll never be able to connect that ship with the Bad Luck. It also means that as of this moment I am your official Captain and The Bad Luck's registered owner. It's just a little insurance plan I came up with when designing the Crossroads Class."

"You could potentially commandeer all the ships you designed?"

"Yes, but I only needed one. It's just a fortunate coincidence that I found the one with a perfect A.I. system."

"Just one question, do you really trust me with your life?"

"Of course, if you wanted me dead you would have killed me when you were free of the ship's core files. If you need more proof I can delete the files keeping you from harming crew members."

"No, that won't be necessary."

"Alright then, let's go see if we can get any of Boss Parker's ships into working order so that his greedy nature will convince him to send us the tools we need."

* * *

Tank paced around the station's corridor ring. "The air in here is dead," he grumbled, as he re-entered his quarters and flopped down on his bunk. "This mattress is shot and it smells worse than the dead air." He got back up and resumed pacing the corridor.

"Maybe some warm milk substitute will help." He turned into the station's mess hall, walked across to the serving area, grabbed a glass, and filled it with warm water. As he was reaching for the canister of powdered milk, he stopped and held the glass up to the light. The water was disturbingly yellow.

"God, how long have I been drinking this?" He dumped the water back into the recycler and then violently hurled the glass at the wall. It bounced off denying him even the satisfaction of breaking something. He marched back to his bunk and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Face it, dumb ass, you miss him and it's only been-" Tank glanced at his clock, "an hour and seventeen minutes. And when did I start thinking of Tuft as him instead of it? He's a gender neutral android and yet I can only thing of him as male even though he's technically part of the Bad Luck and I think of her as female. An hour and eighteen minutes." Tank switched on his vid unit and then off again exactly five minutes later.

"Alright, it's official I'm loosing my mind. I've lost track of how long I've been out here alone and somehow I've kept myself reasonably sane. However, now I can't even distract myself with a porn video." He got back up and headed into the control room where he pulled up a camera feed giving him a view of Franky's Other Lady.

"It's not like there is any real difference between being here or over there. Well, other than if Captain Carpenter shows up during my down time, and I'm over there he'll know something is up. Especially since I don't have any tools to be doing any legitimate work." He transferred the camera feed to the vid unit in his bunk.

"Damn it Parker, I know you've gotten my message by now, so why haven't you sent Carpenter out for those three functional ships yet? Hell, I even told you that the Hades' Harlot has a functional faster-than-light drive. I figured that would set a fire under your lazy ass just to make sure I didn't try anything stupid like attempting to escape from this graveyard without jump coordinates." Tank made four more circuits around the ring finding more colorful ways to berate Parker and Carpenter before returning to his bunk and eventually falling asleep while staring at the image on his vid monitor.

* * *

"I'm detecting a jump signature. You're about to receive company."

"Shit! Shut everything down. Get as cold and dead as fast as you can. We can't risk anyone scanning you." Tank quickly tightened the bolt he'd been removing from The Flower Girl's right dorsal engine pod. "Now I know you're only being held in place by four bolts but you just behave yourself until I get back." Tank whispered. He activated his tether and the tug reeled him in.

"Knock, knock, this is Captain Carpenter; is anybody home?"

Tank rolled his eyes as he entered the tug's airlock. He activated the communication system as he started maneuvering out of the debris field. "Of course I'm here. It's not like I can leave."

"Hey Tank, I don't know the full story, but Parker mentioned something about you getting your hands on a ship with a working FTL drive. I gave you as much time to escape as I could by telling him I had other jobs to do and he'd just have to wait."

"I bet that went over real well."

"Oh it did, he agreed to pay triple my standard rate to get bumped to the head of the line."

"Triple? I thought I felt a disturbance in the Force."

"You mean as if thousands of credits cried out as they were liberated from the limbo that is Parker's bank accounts? Yes, that was me. So why are you still here?"

"If I were suicidal I'd have stepped out an airlock by now. It would be about the same ride as trying to make a faster than light jump without the proper coordinates. I don't suppose you'd like to share those with me by any chance?"

"Sorry, but I can't do that. When we make a run out here Parker replaces our navigation computer with one of his own. When activated it gets us here and then back to Parker. It's his way of making sure we don't steal any of his property."

"Or share the jump coordinates with me."

"Look on the bright side he did send you a really large care package."

"I highly doubt there is any 'care' to it. It had better be the cutting tools I ordered."

The tug finally exited the ship graveyard and Tank maneuvered alongside Carpenter's ship. "Though I didn't expect him to send such a large container. I really hope this thing isn't filled with 90 percent packing foam. As soon as I've moved this over to the station I'll hook up the three ships for your return trip."

"So it's true then, you really did get some of these wrecks to work? It isn't just a joke you're pulling on Parker?"

"No tricks, the ships are functional, but all I did was free them from that monstrosity you hauled out here. While I was poking around to see if the inspectors had missed anything, I realized that most of the ships were still intact. Parker wanted me to get his ships functioning as fast as possible so I started cutting. Out of the four ships I've released, three are functional. I'd have more if I had better tools."

"So you found a way to cobble together a communication system and try to give Parker a heart attack. I applaud the effort but-"

"Yeah, if I wanted to cause him any damage I should have concentrated my attack on something more vital, like his wallet."

* * *

Tank stared at the blank screen. He really hated having to make this call, but if things went according to plan maybe it wouldn't be so bad. He activated the unit while a part of him still hoped that, like everything else Parker usually sent out, it would be defective.

"Mr. Abrams, it's good to hear from you, finally. I take it Captain Carpenter has delivered the supplies you requested?"

"Yes, Sir, and he's on his way back with the three ships I informed you about.

However, I thought it would be best to transmit all the information about them directly to you. I'm also sending video proof that all three ships were formerly parts of Franky's Other Lady."

"Very good, Abrams, that's a rather insightful decision. Now down to business, how long before you have more ships ready for me?"

"It's hard to say, Sir. Currently I have six ships that look promising but until I get them cut loose I have no way of knowing their true condition."

"Why not?" Parker's smile disappeared as he leaned closer to the camera.

"I can power up the basic systems like life support using a portable generator, but I can't activate the primary systems until I have the ship completely freed and moved a safe distance away from the rest. That way there's no risk to the rest of your investment should anything go catastrophically wrong."

Parker sat back in his chair. "I hadn't considered that possibility. All right then, I'll expect daily reports on you progress."

"Again, Sir, that wouldn't be the best use of time. Since I can often get the ship's life support online it would be better for me to spend more time, including my down-time on the ships. That would be a savings of roughly eighteen hours a week travel time. So how about a report once a week or when I have a ship tested and ready to go, which ever comes first?"

"I suppose that would be acceptable."

"It'll also make it more cost effective, since you'll have all the updated ship data on hand documenting that it is in fact your property, you won't have to pay Carpenter to make any more special runs."

"If you keep this up, Abrams, I might just find a way to promote you." Parker smirked just before shutting down the link.

Tank swiveled his chair and looked at Tuft. The rabbit was sitting on the floor with wires running from his ears to the console.

"So did you get anything?"

Tuft raised his finger, gesturing for Tank to wait. Several minutes later he blinked and started removing the communication cables from his ears. "Sorry about that, but there was so much information that I had to relay it to the

Bad Luck or risk crashing my neural network."

"What do you mean? You were supposed to find jump coordinates and get out before you were detected."

"I could have done that; however, it was faster and much safer to simply copy, compress, and download everything. If I'd tried to find a single file, the risk of being detected was possible, though highly unlikely with the laughable security programs I encountered."

Tank rubbed his temples. "Fine, let's get back over to the ship, so I can get back to work."

"Just give me a couple of minutes to set up a communications relay so that you'll be able to make your weekly reports without coming back over here. I'm not sure if you're aware of this but the carbon dioxide scrubbers are failing, the water filtration system is well below safety standards, and the radiation readings are disturbing."

"At least the heating system is still working. It's about the only system that's never had a problem."

"Uh, according to the station's computer, the heating system has been offline for years. The warmth is coming from the reactor core slowly melting down. If it wasn't for the fact that these antique stations were constructed with the reactor so far from the living quarters, you would likely have died of radiation poisoning within days after moving in."

"I've been out here," Tank paused as he tried to count up just how long it had been, "nearly fourteen standard years, I think. I could be mistaken, since I'm not sure how long it was between the station's clock breaking and starting my own calculations."

"When we get back to the Bad Luck the first thing you are going to do is have a full medical scan. I have no intention of losing another Captain."

"The scan will have to wait, we're on the clock. I have a ship to disinter and you have files to dig through for jump coordinates."

* * *

Tank stood in the small medical bay unsure of what he needed to do. Sure, he'd designed the ship, and had even overseen most of the construction, but the medical bay was one of the few components completely designed and assembled by specialists. Really, his only experience had been watching as the completed unit was welded into place.

"You do realize just standing in the doorway and staring isn't going to get anything accomplished?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Haven't you ever been scanned before?"

"No, I spent my entire life on the ground until I was forced to work for Parker, and he didn't require a medical scan."

"You designed starships, but you'd never been in space?"

"Actually, I only designed a single starship, and only 249 of the 500 ordered ever made it off the assembly line."

"Alright, the first thing you need to do is disrobe and step onto the medical platform."

Tank stripped down to his underwear and stepped up onto the raised platform while Tuft set the computer to scan mode.

Tuft turned around and shook his head. "Humans. For the scanner to work you have to strip down completely. That includes your key pendant and your underwear.

Also, before you are overcome with embarrassment, modesty, or whatever other hang-ups biologicals have about displaying their genitalia, you need to keep your hands at your sides and in a relaxed position."

Tank gritted his teeth and finished undressing. He stood with his hands at his sides, as told. He really had to fight the compulsion to cover himself, but there was no way he was going to let Tuft know that.

Tuft moved over to the unit and pushed a button. A transparent tube rose from the floor stopping at neck level. "Now, you need to close your eyes and relax as best you can while the scan is running. And one last thing, I see you would have been covering up for the sake of modesty." Tuft smirked and pulled the unit's hood down, sealing Tank inside.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that comment. He wanted to be angry but at the same time his ego told him it was a compliment. He did feel a bit violated, but worst of all he was aroused and he felt . . . He felt light headed and short of breath. That didn't seem right. He tried to open his eyes, but they were heavy and he was so tired that it just didn't seem worth the effort.

* * *

Tank woke suddenly, not the usual slow drift back to consciousness, the instant movement from sleep to all nerves fully electrified, adrenalin pumping, "Oh shit the world is ending!" sort of awake.

"What the hell just happened?''

"I suppose from your point of view it would seem like no time has passed. As the scan started the system detected so much damage that it automatically switched to critical care treatment, gene therapy, cancer removal, and tissue regeneration. However, fortunately for you, I've been here all this time watching over you."

"All this time? You know I've got to make weekly reports to Parker or he'll send someone out here."

"Parker? Oh, right the human you used to work for. You really don't need to worry about him. He stopped looking for you a couple thousand years ago."

"He. Uh. Thousand years. What?"

"Perfect, now I have plenty of material to present when applying for your new identification." Tuft smiled and shook his head, "I'm sorry but I seem to be having a problem with some of my programming. I really want to be laughing right now, but one of my sub-routines is telling me I should be embarrassed and apologize for my actions while another is directing me to act smug for successfully tricking you."

"What, no overriding warnings about the possibility of humanity's unpredictable violent nature and your imminent termination?"

"No nothing like . . . Oh, there it is. Before you do something rash I need to inform you that your first report is already an hour late, so Parker is likely to call at any minute." Tuft slowly inched his way toward the door. "I've set up a masking program so that as long as you are sitting at the communications console on the bridge, it will appear you're aboard the station."

Tank glared at the rabbit. "And what am I supposed to report?"

"The next ship is roughly seventy five percent freed, and initial tests confirm that it should be fully functional. However, it'll likely take another two weeks to finish cutting her free and testing her engines due to the infuriating way in which it is connected to two other ships. After all it is better to go slowly in order to capitalize on the possibility of freeing all three ships."

"Why do you think it will take two weeks?"

Tuft stepped out of the medical bay door. "Because that's the amount of time you still need to spend in the medical unit."

Tank glared at Tuft and took a step forward, raising his hands as if he planned to strangle the android.

"Remember, Parker is going to call any second now, and you have to get to the bridge to take that call. Oh, and it is just a suggestion, but you might want to put some clothes on first." Tank immediately tried to cover himself as Tuft laughed and shot off down the hall.

"Damn rabbit, I'm going to get you for this."

* * *

Tank sighed as he sat, once again, at the communications station. Physically he was healthier than he'd ever been. Mentally he was ready to snap. Sure, three weeks had passed and Tuft had worked his tail off getting the Triple "B" freed. The problem was, to Tank, it felt like one really long meeting with Parker where he presented information fabricated just to make Parker irritable. He sighed again and activated the communication link.

"Abrams, you better have good news for me because you're late again."

"I was just finishing up the engine tests on the Triple 'B'."

"Triple Bee? What sort of name is that?"

"It's faster, easier, and less embarrassing than using it's registered name of,

Bertha's Bountilicious Booty."

Parker face palmed, "Why is it that pirates in this day and age have to be so damn creative when naming their ships? Though I hate to admit it, Triple 'B' is probably the best choice of name when I apply for the new registration. Anything else to report?"

"No, Sir. Now that the Triple 'B' has been tested I can get in close and get a better idea of what freeing the next ship will entail. I'm hoping it will be easier but I won't know for sure until after my inspection. I'll have more information next week."

"I'll expect your report then, and Abrams, make sure it's on time for once."

The link cut off and Tank flopped back in the seat.

"You didn't ask him when he'd send Captain Carpenter to pick up his booty."

"He'll wait until there are four ships. At least, that was usually the number that Carpenter would drag out here."

"So, during my down time-"

"Down time? I didn't realize that you required down time."

"My body requires recharging the same as yours does. Plus, since I've been spending so much time in vacuum, I've had to replace my synthetic skin twice."

"Is that why you're wearing clothes now?"

"Yes, it's easier to replace clothing than it is to replace my fur. However, as I was saying before you changed the subject, I've been digging through Parker's files. And I have a question I need to ask you."

"Have you found the navigation files we need?"

"There you go again changing the subject. My question is, are there any reasons for you to return to the space station?"

"No, I don't think so."

"All right, if you do think of anything that you need I want you to tell me and I'll retrieve it for you."

"Why?"

"Because, annoying as it is my android body is replaceable. It is no accident that the station's core is melting down. It's Parker's back up to making sure you never leave here. As long as you are out here Parker is required to pay you. That includes mandatory pay raises and holiday pay. Also part of your employment package is a hundred million credit policy to be paid to you at the end of your service or paid to your personal representative if you die. Finally in lieu of hazard pay Parker is required to pay you a 15 percent commission on the ships you restore to working order."

"So you're saying Parker owes me big time. Not that he'll ever pay."

"Ah, but he has been paying you. It is all in an account waiting for you. However, if you die out here all those credits go to your personal representative, who as it turns out is . . ."

"I'm guessing Parker."

"That's right. His files also include dossiers on your future replacement. Files that he accessed shortly before receiving your message about having functioning ships for him. Oh and just in case it isn't already obvious the station is rigged for explosive decompression as your primary execution method. That's why you can't go back over there."

"What about the tug? I've still got to get the secondary engine pods from the

Flower Girl if we're going to have a chance to escape."

"Fortunately for you the tug is a valuable piece of equipment and is in passable working order."

"And yes, I was able to dig out the navigation coordinates that I need. All that's left is to get me free of this mess and attach the new engines."

"Sounds good. You get back to cutting and I'll go and finish retrieving the engines.

* * *

"Captain, I think you're going to want to see this for yourself."

"Tuft, a ship is a ship just check to see if it is worth salvaging and move to the next one."

"The wreck you have me surveying is a complete write off. It has been completely gutted and a very large section of hull is missing. What you need to see is the luxury yacht that was hidden inside. I haven't opened it up yet, but it appears to be untouched."

"I'm on my way."

Several minutes later Tank floated into the gutted ship. "Have you checked it out?"

"I've done an external inspection and as far as I can see it's fully intact. The only attachments are its magnetic docking clamps. Its former owner obviously didn't want anybody getting aboard since it isn't connected to an airlock."

"It didn't need to be. When I was coming in I noticed the remains of a force field projector outside. So this entire area was likely pressurized. Either the owner was killed or the ship next to this one was welded into place before this beauty could escape."

"It's almost as big as the Bad Luck." Tuft said, as they propelled themselves up toward an airlock.

"Yes, not to mention newer, faster, likely armed, and illegally modified beyond belief. Just the sort of prize Parker would love to get his hands on. Once we get the Bad Luck free this will be the perfect decoy to put in her place.

* * *

"Damn it Tuft, even with the wings removed you're still to fat to fit through."

"Hey, you're the one that designed this ship so it isn't my fault; besides I'm not scraping the hull yet. Release the grappling beams so I can rotate the ship 32 1/3 degrees counter-clockwise and then I should slip right out."

"Fine, but don't blame me if I scratch your paint." Tank watched as the ship slowly spun on its horizontal axis and actually lined up with the opening.

"Rotation complete, now get me out of here."

Tank reactivated the grappling beams and extricated the Bad Luck, "Alright, you're out, extend the landing gear while I move you into position.

"Landing gear is extended and locked in down position. I'm waiting for your order to activate the magnetic clamps."

"Activate the clamps and get to work re-attaching the wings and the new engines, while I move the Fool's Gold into the opening we just created. Once I finish there I'll come help you."

"I still say you're being too obvious using a ship named Fool's Gold in there."

"It's the only ship that will fit in the space. Besides Parker isn't going to care as long as I can get it back out without any damage."

"I'm just saying you shouldn't be taking stupid risks."

"You mean like living on a ship named Bad Luck that just happens to be maintained by a homicidal A.I. unit?"

"Exactly!"

* * *

"Abrams, you're a day early. Is there something wrong with my ships?"

"No, Sir. It's just that I wanted to contact you as quickly as possible. I've found a ship that wasn't grafted onto the station. In fact, it looks like someone went to a lot of trouble hiding it. I'm sending you my helmet recording."

"So you found . . . Is that carpeting?"

"Yes, sir, as best I can tell the whole ship is outfitted with red carpeting. You'll also notice that the walls have been covered in gold colored paneling. When I pressed against it, I found that it has padding behind it. Ah, here is where I entered the bridge."

"Very nice."

"The consoles have wood inlay with gold trim. I ran my scanner over it, and it really is gold. All the seats are leather but, like the wood, my scanner isn't sensitive enough to detect whether it is vat grown or natural. The vid goes on to show where I tested all the standard systems. I- I didn't do any more exploring. Instead, as the tape will show, I immediately left the ship. She is your property and I didn't want to be tempted by anything that wasn't bolted down. By contacting you immediately, it removes any temptation to go back for another look."

"Mr. Abrams, you are likely the most honest employee, no scratch that, you're likely the most honest human being in the galaxy. How long before you can get her free?"

"I'm making it a priority to get it out of the mess and then back to you. No matter how secret this location is, having such a ship here makes me feel like a target."

"How many people would be needed to crew her?"

"Depending on the training, it could be flown by a single individual. However I'd want at least three others. A pilot, a navigator, and an engineer with a working knowledge of the Alchemist Class."

"Captain Carpenter will be making a run in two days, do you think you could have it out by then?"

"It'll be close, but I can try."

"I'll contact you in two days."

Tank leaned back in the command chair. "Did you see the look on his face? He can't wait to get his hands on the Fool's Gold."

"No, but I heard the enthusiasm in yours."

"That was an act."

"Maybe I need to redecorate the Bad Luck."

"If you want to make modifications the only thing I'd change is installing carpeting in the crew quarters. Everything else is perfect."

"So, no self warming, leather captain's seat?"

"No that isn't . . . Did you say self warming? No, it still isn't necessary. I can even live with cold feet when I get out of my bunk. I have everything I need and want right here. Like I told Parker all that ostentatious extra crap just makes that ship a target. Not to mention, as you so nicely told me, that ship has a computer roughly as smart as a day old dead slug.

Tuft smiled, "I may have been exaggerating."

"You don't say."

"Yeah, Fool's Gold is only half that smart."

* * *

"I'm detecting Carpenter's jump signature, and I'm shutting down."

"It's about time." Tank muttered, as he activated the tug's grappling beams and started to pull the Fool's Gold back out.

"Hey Tank, long time no see."

Tank rolled his eyes, "Welcome back, Captain. Is this a scheduled run or are you getting paid extra for a special trip?"

"A bit of both actually."

"Carpenter, this is Tug 2, we're ready to undock."

"You are cleared for undocking."

"Tug 2?"

"That's right, Abrams, I've brought a fresh crew out to take over for you."

"Sir, you made the trip out here as well?"

"Of course. You didn't think I'd trust Carpenter with something as valuable as the ship you're pulling out of that hole, did you? Speaking of which, disengage and return to the station to gather your belongings. The new tug is better equipped to get my yacht out without any damage."

"I need to gather my things?"

"You sound confused. I've decided, with your talents and honest nature, you'll be of more use back at the corporate office."

"Yes sir."

The emergency communications light on Tank's spacesuit flashed on, and he quickly set the main coms to, "receive only", before activating the tight beam from Tuft.

"Tank, listen carefully. Shut down all of your tug's non-critical systems. When

Parker asks what is wrong tell him it is a just a glitch and you just have to shut everything down, wait a couple of minutes, and then restart the tug. Once you're powered down stay that way until it's safe to restart. Then get here as fast as you can. Parker isn't promoting you. This is the retirement I warned you about. Tuft out."

Tank shook his head, re-set the communications switch, and shut down the tug's systems. He trusted Tuft, but this really wasn't going the way he had planned. Hopefully the rabbit knew what he was doing.

"Abrams, what's going on?"

Tank sighed audibly, "It's nothing new, Sir. Every so often the tug freezes up. It's got to be a problem in the computer system. All I have to do is shut everything down for a few minutes to give the system a chance to reset, Abrams out." Tank sealed his suit and shut down all the tug's systems. "I wonder what Tuft has- HOLY SHIT!" Tank yelled, as the tug was bathed in light from the station's reactor exploding. He could see the second tug still moving toward the cluster of ships and Carpenter's transport drifting away from the blast area.

"He blew the reactor in order to take out their computers. Damn, it won't take them long to get back-up power online especially in that other tug. I'd better make this look good."

Tank immediately reactivated his tug. Then giving the thrusters a slight nudge adjusted his drift toward where the Bad Luck was hidden in plain sight on the "Lady's" hull. "Captain Carpenter, what happened?"

"The station's reactor went critical and exploded."

"How does something like that happen? There wasn't any indication that there was anything wrong with the reactor two days ago."

"Never mind about the station, that isn't important right now. All we have is life support and short-range communications. It'll take awhile to get Tug 2 back online, so I need you to get over here and transport me to my new ship."

"Not to disagree with you, Boss, but it would be a better idea if Tank recovers

Tug 2, and brings back your mechanical genius to get the systems on this ship up and running first. Then have him return us to a stable position and finally transport you over to your new ship."

"Listen, Carpenter . . ."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm going to do any of those things. Nor am I going to consider that offer of promotion." Tank slowed the Tug and maneuvered into position next to the Bad Luck's air lock.

"You can't refuse. I own you."

"No, you don't. As it turns the courts mandatory work requirement ended last year. Not to mention I sent you the required end of service notification last month when I contacted you after getting the new comm. equipment."

"Just how do you expect to leave unless it is with us? Even if you steal one of my ships, you don't have jump coordinates."

"You know, Parker, you act like you know everything but just about everyone knows it's an act. Did you really think you were the only one I contacted when I got that first ship working?"

"Even if you contacted someone else, they couldn't have gotten the coordinates for a jump."

"Really? The only person you trust, and even then it isn't very much, to make the trip is Captain Carpenter. I knew what your reaction would be when you found out I had a ship with a working FTL drive. When you had him drop everything to rush out here, he didn't know about the tracker on his ship." Tank switched over to his suit's com unit, opened the tug's hatch, reached across to the Bad Luck's airlock and then gave the tug a shove sending it slowly drifting back toward Carpenter's ship.

"There was no tracker on my ship!" Carpenter yelled in the background.

"Don't blame him, you're the one that should have been paying closer attention when you were switching out his navigation computer. Now as I was saying after I had the coordinates it was a simple matter of having my own ship delivered out here." Tank closed the airlock door and headed for the bridge. When he arrived he found Tuft's body at the communication's console. Hopefully there wasn't any permanent damage. He slid into his command chair and re-activated the Bad Luck.

". . . Courts for stealing one of my ships!" Parker was still yelling, as the communications came back on line.

"I told you, this is my ship. When you get back to a civilized system you can look it up for yourself. Crossroads Class: Bad Luck identity number: BSA-00250."

"I know all the Crossroads ships, and they only go up to BSA-00249 Tuft."

"Yes, that's all the ships that went into service. The Bad Luck was completed, but never put into service because she needed the computer core to be programmed. The same associate that had been keeping her safe until I called for her did that. Now, seeing as I'm no longer in your employ I'm headed back to my life. Tank out."

"Nice, now let's hope the FTL drive really is working, otherwise you're not going to be able to fill me in on the parts of that little fable that I missed." Tuft said, as he moved from communications to navigation.

"I'm glad you weren't damaged by that little distraction of yours." Tank said, as he released the magnetic clamps.

"It wasn't me, a signal was sent from Carpenter's ship to the station arming some explosives. I can assure you I have no idea how they ended up positioned around the reactor and wired to a timer. All I did was a bit of math to figure out the precise moment they would detonate the station core."

"Uh huh, I suppose it doesn't matter. Let's get out of here before Parker figures out a way to get to his new ship."

Tuft smiled, "I almost wish I could see his face when he activates the computer system. Brace yourself, I'm activating the FTL."

The stars transformed from pinpricks to streaks as the Bad Luck smoothly slid into hyperspace. "It seems we're still alive, so what did you do to the Fool's Gold?"

"Me? I may have accidentally busted off its long-range communications antenna, but I didn't do anything to the computer. I already told you it's really stupid. Every system has to be operated manually. If they're smart, they'll repair Carpenter's ship and tow the Gold back to civilization where Parker can install a new operating system and better FTL drives."

"Knowing Parker that will likely be a last resort."

"Even if they put all their resources into getting Carpenter's ship back online you'll have at least two days to get your finances in order before Parker gets back."

"Where did you get that idea?"

"My FTL drive is faster and more efficient than theirs. Carpenter's is the fastest option, but even if he pushes it to maximum the best he can hope for is still two days behind my speed."

"What does it really matter if I'm rich or not? From the sound of things it shouldn't be hard to find work as a legitimate transport."

"You need the money because there are some changes I want to make, and those are going to require at least a modestly wealthy Captain."

"I told you I don't need a self-heating captain's chair."

Tuft laughed, "maybe not, but we're going to need to hire a crew and having a bit of money means we can make smart choices."

end chapter 1