Chapter Eleven - Ancient History
MINT was good at what they did.
In the private, subtle world of intelligence agencies, spy-corps, and national security apparati, MINT was far from the biggest player. They recruited fewer members, had a large suite of automated spyworks, and did very little by means of traditional, person-based spy work.
Instead, MINT operated as the high-tech counter to the Earth Alliance's own spycraft agencies, of which there were many. Instead of employing bribes, honey pots, and listening devices, MINT was on the cutting edge of data interception, and on Mars, there were no laws to protect anyone from MINT's reach.
If someone was bribed, MINT knew. Then they dealt with it in a loud, obvious way.
There was no allowing spies to linger to deliver false news, there was no accepting corrupt politicians, there was no hiring people who could disguise themselves as passersby to snoop in on someone's trash.
If you acted against the interest of the Empire of Mars, then someone dressed in black would knock at your door and you'd be disposed of. It was all very nice and neat, and MINT made sure never to remove anyone that they couldn't confirm was a threat.
The average person didn't actually fear MINT at all. Mostly because MINT's public image was backed by Martian propaganda. If you didn't fuck around, you'd never have to find out. Don't try to sell critical information to the enemy, and you'll live a long, happy life of moderate taxes, free healthcare, and cutting-edge toys.
MINT had a relationship with Ivil. They didn't like working with her. She liked working with them. They were professional and quick and most importantly reliable.
The Imperial Navy tried to be all of that, but it had conflicting allegiances at times, and with so many members picked from obligatory military participation, there was a frequent issue with incompetence.
MINT picked its operatives from people who excelled. The highest ranked students of Martian universities, the best officers in the navy who wanted a slower-paced job with fewer risks of disintegration.
In any case, Ivil wanted to explore the Held Together but before she started to wander around the ship, she decided to explore its history.
One of the tablets MINT had given her contained heaps of historical data, information on battlefields and hundreds of academic texts. At least until the tablet recognized Ivil, then it gave her access to encased information. Everything MINT had gathered on the Held Together in the last five days or so.
That included the ship's entire public, and some private, history.
The history was... mundane. The Held Together had been through some interesting times, but overall, there wasn't anything too special about it. It was an old ship that had changed hands and had survived. That was all. There were probably a thousand just like it in the system.
Except this was the one where she'd find love.
There was a knock at the door, and Ivil glanced up. She sensed someone on the other side, shifting their weight from side to side nervously. There had been a few people moving by, and Ivil imagined that it was mostly the crew just going through the paces.
She stood and wandered over to the door. "Yes?" Ivil asked.
"Hi!" came Twenty-Six from the other side.
Ivil opened the door, then looked down to meet the young woman's eyes. Twenty-Six jumped, automatically reaching out to grab onto one of the handholds on the wall. "Hello, Twenty-Six," Ivil said. "Can I help you?"
Twenty-Six nodded. "Yes! I mean, you can, if you want. But I'm not here for help, I'm... uh, I'm bungling this up. Can I start over?" Ivil gestured for Twenty-Six to do so and the mechanic took a quick breath in, then smiled. "Hey! Did you want to come and check out the kitchen? Hawk's cooked something up nice."
"Sure," Ivil said. "Aren't you supposed to be in the hangar?"
"Nope!" Twenty-Six said. She flushed, leaning forwards a little, conspiratorial. "The last passenger arrived! So I don't need to sit around anymore. Once I'm done eating up it'll be time to get back to work. This old lady has enough work to keep me busy for ten lifetimes, you know?"
"I can see that," Ivil said. "Give me just a moment to sort through my things."
"Oh, right, right, I'll wait... right here!" Twenty-Six said before pushing back and away from the doorway.
Ivil closed it carefully, then turned. She glanced at her reflection in the little washroom's mirror. She looked just fine, but she brushed off some dust from her outfit anyway. A quick sort through her things had all of the more sensitive tablets tucked away again, just in case. Then she was opening the door and found Twenty-Six poking at a small vent above and muttering to herself.
"Is everything okay?" Ivil asked.
The mechanic jumped, then turned, looking a little guilty. "Yup, just fine!" she said.
"Are you sure?" Ivil stared her down, and Twenty-Six folded almost right away.
"The filters on here might not be quite as new as they should be," she admitted. "I changed them, I remember, but uh, it's been a minute. That might explain the smell in the spine, actually."
"You know, I do think Missy fleeced me for more than this trip is worth," Ivil said. "I'm sure some of that can go into the ship's maintenance budget."
"That would be nice!" Twenty-Six said. "I'll float it by the captain. Come! Have you seen the galley yet?"
"I haven't," Ivil said.
"It's really neat! Come on!" Twenty-Six bounced ahead of Ivil, the lower gravity of Ceres basically letting her every step carry her almost all the way to the ceiling . There were ways to walk in lower gravity that prevented that kind of bounce, but Twenty-Six didn't seem to care for it.
Ivil followed. "So, the last passenger arrived?"
"Yeah! She's a princess!"
"Pardon?" Ivil asked.
"I know!" Twenty-Six gushed. "An actual princess, on our very own Held Together! Wait... I think she's trying to go undercover. Um, maybe don't repeat the fact?"
"I'll keep it to myself," Ivil said. She couldn't help but wonder what that meant, however. There were a few small nations that were monarchic, so there were a few princes and princesses around, if one cared to look hard enough.
"Thanks!" Twenty-Six said. "The captain can be a bit of a grump sometimes. She's a nice woman though. So! You're an archeologist? What's that like?"
"Astro-archeologist," Ivil corrected. "Though that's mostly just semantics. We study archeology the same way it was studied on Earth, only the ruins we look for tend to be old stations, ancient colony domes, or spaceship wrecks."
"That's so cool!" she gushed. "Have you been to a lot of old wrecks? We've towed a few. Salvage pays really well sometimes, even if the Held Together isn't made for it."
"Interesting," Ivil said. "Astro-archeology is often about discovering what actually happened and recording it for posterity. A lot of what happened during the First Inter-System War is actually lost to history. Too many EMPs, too many ships that wiped their own memory banks and servers in case of capture. All we have are first and second-hand accounts of some of the bigger, more important battles of the war. Especially those past the belt."
"That makes sense," Twenty-Six said. "That's a cool job."
"Thank you," Ivil said. "How long have you been a mechanic for?"
"Ever, basically. Have you ever been on Saturn?"
"I've flown by," Ivil said.
"It's rough out there. Titan's nice though! My family's all made up of Ringers."
Which meant that they lived within Saturn's rings. There were some three dozen small moons within the ring that were all large enough to build colonies. Not to mention the space stations scattered around the gassy giant. "Hydrogen miners?" ivil asked.
"And rare metals," Twenty-Six confirmed. "I'm a fifth generation Ringer, you know? Ah, not that I've been home in... a while. Anyway! This is the galley!"
The end of the spine opened into a small airlock room with several doors. It quickly repressurized before Twenty-Six opened one of the doors and led Ivil into a cozy little dining room. The ceiling was low, and padded, and there was a decently large round table in the centre of the room. At the back was a counter, behind which the ship's kitchen and pantry were tucked away.
Interestingly, the floor around the table was made of glass panels laid out in a circle. Ivil glanced through the floor at the Crevice below. The view wasn't all that nice, mostly gantries and the robotic arms designed to capture and move ships around, but the very idea of looking through the floor was interesting.
"That's original," Twenty-Six said. "One of the few fully-original bits left on this old gal. It's really nice sometimes, when we're in deep space. The only other view out of here is in the cockpit, and you can't really just sit around there to watch, you know?"
The dining room table was glass as well, which Ivil supposed only made sense. "It's an interesting design feature," she said.
"It's one of my top twenty-six favourite spots!" Twenty-Six said with a laugh. "Come on, you've got to try Hawk's cooking. He does miracles!"
***
Chapter Eleven - Ancient History
MINT was good at what they did.
In the private, subtle world of intelligence agencies, spy-corps, and national security apparati, MINT was far from the biggest player. They recruited fewer members, had a large suite of automated spyworks, and did very little by means of traditional, person-based spy work.
Instead, MINT operated as the high-tech counter to the Earth Alliance's own spycraft agencies, of which there were many. Instead of employing bribes, honey pots, and listening devices, MINT was on the cutting edge of data interception, and on Mars, there were no laws to protect anyone from MINT's reach.
If someone was bribed, MINT knew. Then they dealt with it in a loud, obvious way.
There was no allowing spies to linger to deliver false news, there was no accepting corrupt politicians, there was no hiring people who could disguise themselves as passersby to snoop in on someone's trash.
If you acted against the interest of the Empire of Mars, then someone dressed in black would knock at your door and you'd be disposed of. It was all very nice and neat, and MINT made sure never to remove anyone that they couldn't confirm was a threat.
The average person didn't actually fear MINT at all. Mostly because MINT's public image was backed by Martian propaganda. If you didn't fuck around, you'd never have to find out. Don't try to sell critical information to the enemy, and you'll live a long, happy life of moderate taxes, free healthcare, and cutting-edge toys.
MINT had a relationship with Ivil. They didn't like working with her. She liked working with them. They were professional and quick and most importantly reliable.
The Imperial Navy tried to be all of that, but it had conflicting allegiances at times, and with so many members picked from obligatory military participation, there was a frequent issue with incompetence.
MINT picked its operatives from people who excelled. The highest ranked students of Martian universities, the best officers in the navy who wanted a slower-paced job with fewer risks of disintegration.
In any case, Ivil wanted to explore the Held Together but before she started to wander around the ship, she decided to explore its history.
One of the tablets MINT had given her contained heaps of historical data, information on battlefields and hundreds of academic texts. At least until the tablet recognized Ivil, then it gave her access to encased information. Everything MINT had gathered on the Held Together in the last five days or so.
That included the ship's entire public, and some private, history.
The history was... mundane. The Held Together had been through some interesting times, but overall, there wasn't anything too special about it. It was an old ship that had changed hands and had survived. That was all. There were probably a thousand just like it in the system.
Except this was the one where she'd find love.
There was a knock at the door, and Ivil glanced up. She sensed someone on the other side, shifting their weight from side to side nervously. There had been a few people moving by, and Ivil imagined that it was mostly the crew just going through the paces.
She stood and wandered over to the door. "Yes?" Ivil asked.
"Hi!" came Twenty-Six from the other side.
Ivil opened the door, then looked down to meet the young woman's eyes. Twenty-Six jumped, automatically reaching out to grab onto one of the handholds on the wall. "Hello, Twenty-Six," Ivil said. "Can I help you?"
Twenty-Six nodded. "Yes! I mean, you can, if you want. But I'm not here for help, I'm... uh, I'm bungling this up. Can I start over?" Ivil gestured for Twenty-Six to do so and the mechanic took a quick breath in, then smiled. "Hey! Did you want to come and check out the kitchen? Hawk's cooked something up nice."
"Sure," Ivil said. "Aren't you supposed to be in the hangar?"
"Nope!" Twenty-Six said. She flushed, leaning forwards a little, conspiratorial. "The last passenger arrived! So I don't need to sit around anymore. Once I'm done eating up it'll be time to get back to work. This old lady has enough work to keep me busy for ten lifetimes, you know?"
"I can see that," Ivil said. "Give me just a moment to sort through my things."
"Oh, right, right, I'll wait... right here!" Twenty-Six said before pushing back and away from the doorway.
Ivil closed it carefully, then turned. She glanced at her reflection in the little washroom's mirror. She looked just fine, but she brushed off some dust from her outfit anyway. A quick sort through her things had all of the more sensitive tablets tucked away again, just in case. Then she was opening the door and found Twenty-Six poking at a small vent above and muttering to herself.
"Is everything okay?" Ivil asked.
The mechanic jumped, then turned, looking a little guilty. "Yup, just fine!" she said.
"Are you sure?" Ivil stared her down, and Twenty-Six folded almost right away.
"The filters on here might not be quite as new as they should be," she admitted. "I changed them, I remember, but uh, it's been a minute. That might explain the smell in the spine, actually."
"You know, I do think Missy fleeced me for more than this trip is worth," Ivil said. "I'm sure some of that can go into the ship's maintenance budget."
"That would be nice!" Twenty-Six said. "I'll float it by the captain. Come! Have you seen the galley yet?"
"I haven't," Ivil said.
"It's really neat! Come on!" Twenty-Six bounced ahead of Ivil, the lower gravity of Ceres basically letting her every step carry her almost all the way to the ceiling . There were ways to walk in lower gravity that prevented that kind of bounce, but Twenty-Six didn't seem to care for it.
Ivil followed. "So, the last passenger arrived?"
"Yeah! She's a princess!"
"Pardon?" Ivil asked.
"I know!" Twenty-Six gushed. "An actual princess, on our very own Held Together! Wait... I think she's trying to go undercover. Um, maybe don't repeat the fact?"
"I'll keep it to myself," Ivil said. She couldn't help but wonder what that meant, however. There were a few small nations that were monarchic, so there were a few princes and princesses around, if one cared to look hard enough.
"Thanks!" Twenty-Six said. "The captain can be a bit of a grump sometimes. She's a nice woman though. So! You're an archeologist? What's that like?"
"Astro-archeologist," Ivil corrected. "Though that's mostly just semantics. We study archeology the same way it was studied on Earth, only the ruins we look for tend to be old stations, ancient colony domes, or spaceship wrecks."
"That's so cool!" she gushed. "Have you been to a lot of old wrecks? We've towed a few. Salvage pays really well sometimes, even if the Held Together isn't made for it."
"Interesting," Ivil said. "Astro-archeology is often about discovering what actually happened and recording it for posterity. A lot of what happened during the First Inter-System War is actually lost to history. Too many EMPs, too many ships that wiped their own memory banks and servers in case of capture. All we have are first and second-hand accounts of some of the bigger, more important battles of the war. Especially those past the belt."
"That makes sense," Twenty-Six said. "That's a cool job."
"Thank you," Ivil said. "How long have you been a mechanic for?"
"Ever, basically. Have you ever been on Saturn?"
"I've flown by," Ivil said.
"It's rough out there. Titan's nice though! My family's all made up of Ringers."
Which meant that they lived within Saturn's rings. There were some three dozen small moons within the ring that were all large enough to build colonies. Not to mention the space stations scattered around the gassy giant. "Hydrogen miners?" ivil asked.
"And rare metals," Twenty-Six confirmed. "I'm a fifth generation Ringer, you know? Ah, not that I've been home in... a while. Anyway! This is the galley!"
The end of the spine opened into a small airlock room with several doors. It quickly repressurized before Twenty-Six opened one of the doors and led Ivil into a cozy little dining room. The ceiling was low, and padded, and there was a decently large round table in the centre of the room. At the back was a counter, behind which the ship's kitchen and pantry were tucked away.
Interestingly, the floor around the table was made of glass panels laid out in a circle. Ivil glanced through the floor at the Crevice below. The view wasn't all that nice, mostly gantries and the robotic arms designed to capture and move ships around, but the very idea of looking through the floor was interesting.
"That's original," Twenty-Six said. "One of the few fully-original bits left on this old gal. It's really nice sometimes, when we're in deep space. The only other view out of here is in the cockpit, and you can't really just sit around there to watch, you know?"
The dining room table was glass as well, which Ivil supposed only made sense. "It's an interesting design feature," she said.
"It's one of my top twenty-six favourite spots!" Twenty-Six said with a laugh. "Come on, you've got to try Hawk's cooking. He does miracles!"
***
