Fatal Blade (Decker's War#3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

name Syrah .
    “See, that’s the problem when you’re working in black ops.  We can’t boast about the stuff we do to the same extent as the rest of the branch, so they figure all we do is screw and drink our way through a mission.”
    He opened one of the cabinets and grinned broadly.
    “This is one of those times where I’m glad my reputation precedes me.”
    Decker held up a purplish bottle with a label inscribed in alien runes.
    “ T’Klach vintage at that, top shelf Shrehari ale.  They must have found a few cases on one of the prize ships brought in to be reconfigured.  No one in their right mind would pay the freight to bring this nectar all the way to the ass-end of the Commonwealth.”
    “Enjoy the good stuff while it lasts.  The whiskey is so-so and the gin not much better than rotgut.”
    She closed the bar cabinet and winced.
    “Wine?”
    “Dordogne mass-produced plonk.”  She shook her head in amazement while she watched Decker enjoy his first sip of the potent brew.  “Either you have fans among the station’s engineering crew, or you’re the luckiest bastard alive.  You get good stuff while I have to make do with booze I wouldn’t buy for myself.”
    “I’ll quickly point out that it’s free, so that should add a few points to the quality score,” he replied, mischief dancing in his deep blue eyes.
    “Food seems to be prepared trays,” she said, ignoring his comment, “civilian versions of the standard navy rations; not gourmet, but tolerable.”
    “Provided we don’t have to eat rat-bars, I’m happy.”
    “We seem to have a supply of those as well if ever you get nostalgic for your pathfinder days.”
    She shoved two slim packs into the autochef and touched a screen.
    “What’s on the menu?”
    “I don’t know.  I just pulled two trays out from the lunch stack at random.”
    “So it might be mystery meat on a shingle with hot sauce.”
    “Or it could be duck à l’orange.”
    The autochef chimed softly and spat out the trays.
    They sat down and peeled back the lids covering their now hot meals.
    “Chicken product with green stuff on noodles,” Decker said, examining his food with a jaundiced eye, “or more likely, some product not containing meat made to look like chicken.”
    “Why should you care what it is if it feels and tastes like chicken?”  She took a tentative bite of her fish and smiled.  “I don’t care if this is cleverly disguised tofu.  It tastes pretty good.”
    Zack shoved a morsel into his mouth and chewed slowly, his facial expression on the wrong side of skeptical.
    “Okay,” he finally said, after swallowing, “it’s not nearly as bad as I feared, but I’ll tell you what.  If we get the chance to buy some fresh food, I’ll cook.”
    She considered him for a moment and then chuckled.  “I do believe that’s something I’d like to witness.”
    ***
    “Okay,” Decker said, wiping his hands on a rag, “those spanner monkeys knew what they were doing.  This ship is in perfect condition under a believable veneer of hard use and abuse.  I’m impressed with how they managed to fit full-sized anti-ship missile launchers in there.  We might not have much of a magazine, but it’ll be enough for any asshole wanting to do us grief.  And the guns - much better than what she originally carried.”
    “We should still be wary of who we let aboard.”  Talyn stripped off the coveralls she’d found hanging in the engineering compartment.  “The wrong person with the right knowledge of starships might see there’s more than advertised.”
    “True, especially if it’s someone who knew her when she was called Syrah .  You got the vibes, and we only spent a few days in her a year ago so you can imagine a long-term crew member.”
    “Another five hours until we emerge,” she said looking the nearest screen.  “Supper?”
    He was about to reply when his stomach rumbled loudly.
    “Traitor,” he muttered at the offending