RavensDagger

  Chapter Eight - Perfect Disguise

  Ivil Antagonist was hardly a fool.

  She khis about herself, and she khat she wasn't all-knowing. The bination of not being moronid also being aware of her own deficies was actually quite potent.

  There had been others, leaders, people who thought that they'd gained enough cores to make it past the lower barriers of humanity, people who thought they knew better. Ivil had seey of that sort think that power trao capability.

  Instead of making a fool of herself, Ivil stayed in her ne. She was the all-powerful hammer of Mars. Fleets would fly out to challenge her and be rent into so much scrap. Flights of enemy Valkyries would doheir cores to her through no choice of their own. She was good at murder ah.

  She left the bureaucratic matters of running Mars in the hands of the bureaucrats. The medical matters were in the hands of doctors, and matters of ertaio the admiralty. When someoepped out of line, Ivil would put them, or their remains, ba pce.

  It was a simple way to run things, and it worked for Mars.

  Right now, Ivil was going to infiltrate a ship she knew nothing about, with a crew of unknown ins.

  The issue was that.... Ivil had passing knowledge of how romance worked. Mostly from rom-s and soap operas. A romance begun on a foundation of lies would, iably, lead to drama.

  She didn't want to find her lover dropped into a multi-year a only for her identical twin to show up out of the blue. Such things were beh her.

  So, in essence, she needed a disguise.

  Ivil Antagonist had been agonising about this for some time. She had met with some of Mars' best spymasters, but their ideas had been... profoundly unhelpful. She was not going to walk around trying to look like some unassuming, lost paper-pusher that ransit to some backwater.

  She needed a disguise, yes, but she to at least try to capture the magnitude of power that Ivil held.

  At the same time, she hat disguise to make sense. Moving about as a powerful businesswoman, for example, didn't make sense when such a person would likely have a ship of their own.

  It had taken some time for her to pick out a suitable disguise, ohat would be... on enough, without being so lowly that she would have to debase herself.

  Ivil walked through the many corridors of the Crevice, this first leg of her trip was arranged already.

  She went down four levels from the area where the Lucky Despot had ected and to a se of the port facility that had several restaurants. Most of these were unmaations, though not all of them. She was actually surprised to notice a few food pces from Mars. The Red Rock Cafe she passed could have been on one of the stations in Mars' orbit.

  Past all of these was an unassuming, family-owned pre-packaged food pce. The sort of business lined with freezers of quick-heat packs that were all uniformly shaped and easy to slurp a warm meal from.

  These were the kinds of meals a cheap crew would eat on a long voyage. They required no kits, cost little per-meal, and could be fortably eaten in a multi-G or zero-G enviro.

  Ivil slipped into the shop ao the ter where an older woman was standing. "I'm here for the..." Ivil sighed. "Lost Star special."

  "Of course, ma'am, follow me," the old woman replied.

  This level of subterfuge was beh her. Ivil followed the woman anyway into a surprisingly spacious backstore. There were more freezers here, a small office space, and aire rack of clothing.

  "Thank you," Ivil said, dismissing the woman.

  The woman bowed, then picked up a small briefcase and pced it closer so that Ivil wouldn't miss it. She darted out of the room.

  Ivil turo the racks of clothing, then sighed. She swept the room, searg for any cameras or anything intrusive, but predictably found nothing.

  This entire deception had been arranged by MINT, the Martian Intelligend Naval Tactics division. They didn't mess around when it came to spycraft.

  Ivil squeezed out of her uniform, then into one of the outfits MINT had bought for her. It was a niough outfit, if rather utilitarian.

  A -fit brown jumpsuit of the airtight variety. Not pretty, exactly, but still well-fitted and it cooperated with Martian boots. The upper half of the outfit was a white synth-weave coat, the same rather expeerial used by naval officers, with a high colr and some additional pockets and pouches. Atop that, a breastpte with a few dings and scratches in its white paint. It had a rebreather module, and a forward and rear-mounted six-dire pressed-air jet system, for movement in zero-Gs.

  All in all, it was a funal outfit that would give her the appearance of someone well-used to work in the field, without seeming as though she were impoverished. The little logo for the Uy of Hels on the breastpte brought it together.

  She folded her pitch-biform and pced it carefully within an avaible suitcase already filled with a few ges of clothes and some ies. The st item she pced within was her Valkyrie pin.

  Then, with a twist, Ivil vahe suitcase and its tents.

  Ivil decided that she liked her new outfit, and she liked the look of herself wearing it.

  It had been a very long time since she'd worn anything but her uniform. This made her look less like a warlord and more like... an adventuring schor.

  She picked up the briefcase and ope. There were several tablets within, all with the Uy of Hels logo, and a small wallet that she flicked open. The papers within painted her as Evelyn Ville, tenured professor of astro-archeology.

  She packed her things up, then slipped out of the room. The dy by the ter didn't even aowledge her.

  Now, onto the Held Together. One of the tablets in her briefcase had an up-to-date map of the Crevid every ship docked on Ceres. It was everything that MINT could get and hand over to her, probably enough cssified information to start a small-scale war. She navigated through the map until she discovered the Held Together.

  It was a quarter-way around the ring of the Crevice, but, fortunately, the city had public transportation in the form of high-speed rail.

  Ivil didn't want to board the cramped, odorous train car, but she made her way into it anyway. A small use of power pushed the plebs away from her and her suitcase so that none of their germs would get onto her. When one of them tried to reach towards her rear--either for a pinch or for her wallet--Ivil broke every bone in his hand.

  They were breaks. They'd heal eventually. His screams did woo earn her a little more space.

  It took twenty mio reach the right exit, then she walked out of the car and onto a grungy, poorly-lit street in one of the poorer docks.

  Fortunately, Ivil wouldn't be spending enough time in the Crevice to really scope out how its society worked, but there was clearly some form of stratificatioween the poor and the destitute and the few who had fought enough to earn a little something.

  The Held Together was docked in one of the worst of these ses. That didn't bode well. Ivil kept moving anyway.

  Soon, after a ride up a rickety elevator and through a station airlock, she arrived in the docks proper. One wall was made of foot-thick gss, giving anyone walking by a fantastic view of the ships parked above.

  There was an a Earth Systems Apoca Css cargo hauler parked above, o a still-shiny Thanthe Europan Star Ruhey were beautiful ships. A little worse for wear, and aged, but Ivil could appreciate them all the same.

  It wasn't something she made a big fuss over, but she did enjoy spacecraft with all of the enthusiasm of a middle-aged car geek. There was a reason so many Martian warships had sweeping lines and aggressive forms, even if these weren't necessary for their fun.

  She tio walk, eyes stantly flig back out of the windows to take in the ships above. There was a Nar-css tug, a turies old Dusknd-css martian warship called the Emergenpints docked o a Moment-css ship, the Hawke, from Io.

  It took her some time before she reached the end of the docks, and as she went, she discovered that the quality of ships docked further out seemed to degrade the more she went.

  Ivil was feeling something like nerves building within her. She quehese. The mission would carry on.

  Then she id eyes upon her destination: the Held Together.

  "That Cire Voyant had better be right," she decided. Because otherwise, she would be having words with her.

  ***

  RavensDagger

  Still in the chill opening stages! There's a bit of a slow spot iory ing up, but it was fun to write, so hopefully it'll be fun to read too! Also, at 5 chapters/week, it'll past quick, I hope! Some of my stories are on TopWebFi!-amon Bun-Stray Cat Strut-Lever A-Dead Tired-Heart of Dorkness-SpeddonVoting makes Broccoli smile!

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