What he learned in those years without black market access was that a desperate man becomes a resourceful man. He needed marks, white marks, the kind of monetary exchange that was legitimate. That meant real trade, real profit. If he was going to buy Betta's Station, he needed a substantial offer to change the mind of the new owner.
Jadis took out heavy loans, which were not too difficult given that he was backed by Drafer Royalty. He collected, made contacts with miners on both moons, and provided hard to get items that were questionable, but legally sound. He even dedicated two sections of each Power Station to synthesize middle grade items that could not be found in this sector of space. Was the quality on the lower end? Yes, but it was better than nothing and his prices were far lower, not to mention the time he saved his clients in delivery was a great perk. Most of the Humans would have been going through their first rejuvenation if they ordered outside the sector.
In five cycles, his name was his brand. His employees were having trouble keeping up with demand. Most of the loans were paid back with interest within the first two years, though there were some he took his time to pay, saving a portion of his profits to invest in savings to buy Betta's Station outright.
Ten cycles in, he received notification that the new Executive Administrator of Betta's Station had arrived in stasis. She wasn't scheduled for revival for another five cycles, but he felt he'd waited long enough. The new owner was scheduled in another fifteen cycles, and where would he be then? He needed to put his plans in place early, and he needed someone on the inside.
The years had passed without a word from D'yanna. His heart ached to think of her with someone else, sharing a family with another male that was being treated like true offspring to her father. He still had a hundred-year trek to Alpha to undertake. He needed a much larger pool of profit if he wanted to be with D'yanna as a true Drafer.
That was when he decided to force the timeline to his liking.
It was no surprise that the derelict station was still having security issues as a result of its long dormancy. Jadis was able to slip into the docking bay security node and give himself high-level access. An hour later, he was docked, pressurized, and waiting tensely for any resistance on the other side. The doors opened in a gust, revealing the large and mostly empty docking bay.
Jadis accessed the station’s interface again, searching for the location of the Executive Administrator. The system was obviously corrupted. In the middle of the search, the interface would return garbage characters that would fill his field of vision until the docking bay was hidden. Eventually, his legs began to ache. A metallic bench was positioned near the airlock doors and Jadis sat, clearing his interface, and trying again.
Another hour passed as he studied the communication schematics and discovered the areas that were listed as faults. Duplicating his consciousness into an artificial entity required resources from the station itself, which was limited. But he couldn’t see any other way around it. He needed to physically find the areas at fault, relay or activate power nodes to access the rest of the station, and gain access to the main database.
The image of a pseudo-Jadis appeared beside him, their movements duplicated until he gave the representation independence.
“I’ll get to work,” Pseudo-Jadis said, the image vanishing.
Jadis cleared his interface and stood. Even in the light gravity, his thighs were sore from sitting. At the far end of the bay were stacks of black boxes that he knew were employees in stasis boxes, waiting for their timers to go off and bring them back to life.
Crossing the long bay floors, Jadis exited the doors to the main corridor, his heavy steps echoing against the titanium walls. The corridor was cold and dark, causing him to clutch the lapels of his coat closed. Blinking, a single set of white lids covered his eyes, and his night vision activated. The long corridor stretched on with a greenish hue, the computer terminals an outline of crimson and blue that shifted if he focused too closely.
Jadis opened the nearest terminal and entered the sequence to bring power to this section. Light blossomed across the corridor, blinding him momentarily, and causing him to blink away the lids that helped him to see in the dark. The chatter in the back of his mind, the other Jadis, communicated that he had access and would reintegrate soon.
It was a few minutes more of standing and waiting. Then Pseudo-Jadis was there, becoming a part of Jadis again, and he knew everything that his former consciousness knew.
The Executive Administrator was on the second level of the docking bay in Box 89. It was an easy walk and he was grateful for the time to stretch his legs and actually move with a purpose. There was no one to encounter in the quiet corridors, though he knew he’d see some feds in time. Activating power in this section would not go unnoticed. He hoped he could get what he needed out of the Executive Administrator, Teena Maverick, before it was too late.
By the time he stepped off the lift and onto the second level of the docking bay, the automated hydraulic bots were delivering Box 89 in a nearby unloading area. Jadis stayed behind the yellow-checkered line and waited for the box to make its final journey from the far end of the docking bay to where he stood. The outer covering was stripped away to reveal a silver oblong that was put into a standing position. A transparent window revealed a woman with dark hair and light brown skin that looked mottled and pale.
The box was old. Probably one of the oldest he’d encountered in a long time. Looking over her profile, he could see that Teena Maverick had been in stasis for nearly two hundred years. Who would pick an administrator that was two hundred years behind?
Jadis activated the box and pressed the “recovery” button and waited. All he needed was her agreement to make the sell happen. He planned to pay her twice what this Betta offered. On top of that, he’d even make the deal sweeter for Betta. Managing and running a station would be far harder than a load of marks that could see her through a lifetime.
The stasis pod whirred and hummed as it revived its occupant. Through the visor, Jadis could see muscles twitch and pull on the face of the new Administrator as her body and mind were brought back to life. He watched as the mottled pattern of her flesh took on a smoothing process, her lips becoming soft, lighter-colored pieces of living flesh with shades of pink further back into her mouth. The paleness was nearly gone now. Blood flowed quickly through this Human. Next was life. Teena Maverick opened her eyes, dark pools that were vacant at first, then suddenly full.
Jadis smiled and Teena screamed, the sound muffled by the stasis box.
The door to the pod slid open and a shivering mass of nude woman fell into his arms. Jadis managed to keep her cold flesh close while removing his coat and wrapping it around bare shoulders. He’d thought it would be simple. He’d come in, have a conversation, leave with a contract in hand and close the stasis pod.
“Who?” Teena Maverick managed hoarsely.
“Jadis. I’m called Jadis. Take it easy. Do you need something?”
Teena’s face turned up to him, her shivered gasps smelling sour and sick. Her lips tried to form words, but nothing came out. Then a dry tongue ran over dry lips. Jadis understood. He brought up the station’s schematic again. There were facilities toward the back of the bay, and he could get water there. He lifted her into his arms without thinking and walked quickly.
He sat her on one of the benches outside the facility. Finding a ration kit along with a med kit, he soon had her drinking packets of water and throwing back more than a few hydration tablets.