He thumped into the oversized swivel chair behind his desk, and then leaned forward as his smile faded. "I assume this isn't a social call, John. What's up, and how can I help? Need to hide out? I can get you fixed up with an identity and you can take over half of the yard."
John started. "You're joking!"
The smile resurfaced as Yan shook his head. "Nope. No joke. I owe you my life and my freedom. I have always hoped you'd show up here so I could make that offer. I'd be proud if you'd accept it."
John shook his head in disbelief. "Yan," he replied slowly, "You're amazing." He looked around wistfully. "I really wish I could accept your offer. But I'm on the run now, and need to bury myself in the Old Empire for awhile." His eyes returned to Yan and a slow half-smile lit his face. "Perhaps I can come back when the heat's off. I think I'd like that."
Yan frowned. "Law problems? Sheol, I've got contacts…" his voice trailed off as John shook his head.
"I'm afraid the law is a minor problem at the moment," John said. "My former colleagues are at the head of the list. Any time now, lowlifes here and throughout the sector will hear that there is a big bounty on my head, courtesy of Captain Reg Townley, newly crowned Terror of the Spaceways. I've got to travel far and fast."
Yan nodded, the ever-present smile fading. "So you finally quit. Did Mina's words finally get through that thick skull?"
"Something like that. Anyway, I've got a gorgeous yacht called Azure Sky sitting on your apron. She's exactly what I need. She's fast, luxurious, and best of all, she's got an AI advanced enough to let me run her alone."
Yan nodded again. "So what can I do for you?"
"Well, first of all, she needs a new identity. I would like her beacon to identify her as some kind of small courier ship or something. Second, she's way too fancy. She's obviously pre-Fall, but she has been kept in immaculate condition. I need her made to look old and beat-up. I'd like her to seem like something innocuous, that won't attract pirates.
"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’.