Issue 13 - Ray Gun Revival

Serial: Deuces Wild, "In the Lap of the Gods," Part One, by L. S. King Pg. 0
scoop if he were going to keep her. Did that mean
he was truly going to keep Slap around too? He
realized he still tensed up when they landed on
a planet or stopped at a station, wondering if he
was going to be left behind.
“Hm,” Kane said, “we can help you out with
that. What sort of ship?”
“Canary class freighter with a custom refit.”
Kane’s eyebrows rose. “An old Canary? Well,
I’d need the specs on her.”
Tristan handed him a data crystal. “Take a
look.”
The man pulled up the specs on his desk
screen and his eyes widened. He whistled through
his teeth as he read, muttering to himself. “Two
Type II assault turrets with twin plasma cannons...
twin capacitor jump drive...Mark I matter/anti
reaction assembly and 906 terajoule power grid?”
He gazed at Tristan and, with a very dry look, said,
“This isn’t a Canary. She might look like a Canary...
but I don’t know that I’d even call this a refit. This
ship has the armor, power, and weaponry to take
rip apart a Light Patrol with a few salvoes or shred
a wing of fighters within seconds.”
If only you knew. Slap kept his face straight,
but the image of the turrets demolishing the
launch bay of the freebooters’ Quick Strike Frigate
burned joyously in his mind.
Kane shook his head. “Why didn’t you have
the Bussard installed when you refitted her?”
“I didn’t. I recently inherited her.”
Slap didn’t even blink at the smooth lie. Well,
was it a lie? Could you call it stealing when the
owner was a gangster and dead to boot?
“I see.” Kane’s face seemed thoughtful. Too
thoughtful, Slap mused, and shook himself
mentally. He was getting paranoid, hanging
around Tristan.
“Well, I have Bussards in stock. My crews are
a bit overworked, however. We can’t start until...”
He looked at his screen, and scrolled a new read-
out to the surface. He blinked. “Is three days all
right?”
Tristan shook his head. “I’ve already made
arrangements for cargo. But that’s not all I
wanted, so if you can’t do the Bussard on a tighter
timetable, I doubt you could handle a particle
beam installation.”
Kane’s expression grew intense. “You want to
add to the armament?”
You betcha, Slap wanted to add, but stayed
silent. Tristan shrugged.
Kane scratched his head and smoothed his
thinning dark hair. “We could do it—all of it, but
the time...” He squinted at Tristan. “I could have
crews on overtime, but it would add to your bill.”
“How much?”
“Twenty percent over total cost.”
Slap inhaled sharply, but Tristan barely
hesitated. “That’s acceptable. Can you have the
ship ready in four days?”
Kane hissed through his teeth. “Let me talk to
Carter. He’s supervisor of all weaponry installation.
He’ll want to see the ship first.” He rose with
a smile and left the office.
“He seemed awfully curious about things,”
Slap whispered.
“Later.” Tristan fingered the edge of the desk
absently.
Slap ambled to the wall and looked over the
hanging blueprints, trying not to yawn. The day
might be half over planetside, but by ship’s time
he should just be waking up.
Kane soon returned. “He says he can be at
your ship by fifteen hundred.”
“Good. We’re dock pad NE fifty-three.”
The two men nodded at each other, and Slap
followed Tristan out, pulling up the collar of the
jacket.
“Well,” Slap asked as they walked along the
Ray Gun Revival magazine Issue 13, January 01, 2007