Two of Cups
Jacques taps a few more commands into the command panel, mostly to make it go away. Then he drains his lethe-rumchata. He grabs for a bottle at his feet, but it’s empty. He tosses it to a corner of the deck where it makes a satisfying tinkling sound breaking against the pile of bottles there. A little unsteadily he walks back to a utility cabinet and pulls another, refilling the ice in his glass at the same time. Then he staggers back to the captain’s chair. A long drink and his eyes unfocus. The display screens and status lights being to spin around him in a satisfying way.
“Mon deux, il est plein d’étoiles!”
Five of Rods
A thump wakes Jacques up. His glass is still cold, he wasn’t asleep long. He takes a quick swig then stands up and looks around. Autodocking complete! He must be somewhere. He walks to the door, absently grabbing a series of datacubes he dimly remembers are to be delivered…somewhere.
Better get a roadie.
Knave of Coins
Jacques blinks in the harsh lights of the empty, sterile bar. Mop droids buzz about, as if it’s past last call and everyone has really gone home. But a small congregation sits at a table in the back, and Jacques wanders over. Boring place, not The Pond to be sure. The Pond! A horrible sensation comes over him. Why?
“Duck? What are you doing here.”
“This is my bar.”
“This is your bar? But…”
“JACQUES!”, this is Ella, cross.
“Madam!”
“Do you have any the info on Penny?”
“Info on the penny…I think the idiom…I am unfamiliar…”
“The damned Bad Penny!”
Bad…a bad dream. People dying, the world coming apart.
“But I was delivering hats…wait drones…”
Duck looks at the diminutive human sadly.
“Jacques…Jacques: you’ve been on a month-long bender.”
“Month.”
“Including completing a couple of missions. What’s that in your pocket?”
“No, I am not happy to…wait…datacubes. But where is everyone?”
Everyone is staring at Jacques, faces hardening. And that’s the thing about lethe-rumchatas, you can keep it going and keep it going and then when you sober up, it all comes back in an instant. Jacques boots into a bin next to the bar.
“Captain Falkayn! And Captain Mrs. Richard Basehart! Merde.”
Don snorts, “That explains why he was so quiet lately.”
“Duck, Duck! One of the captains! One of the captains is a drone, an imposteur!”
“We know Jacques. We know.”
“But everyone…”
“Everyone left has headed out, our last chance against the coin.”
Jacques looks despondent. Ella sighs. “Here take this storage locker key. And hurry, you just might catch them.”
“Aim for the power source!” shouts Pete.
Jacques stops by the bar and looks at his digiwallet. “Say, Duck, a rumchata for the road? I can pay…¢0¿.0½ star bits…”
“Out!”
The Fool
Jacques stares at his face in the mirror of the Captain’s quarters. He tosses his hat in the corner. As long as this time, he doesn’t come back alone. Then, maybe, he’ll put it back on. The quad-band resonance array is humming, the course already laid in.
"Captain" Jacques Malchance The Entropy
