Burning Suns: Conflagration, Issue 3 - Prior Planning Prevents...

JENNIFER

999 ATA - Berlin, Earth, Modeus System, AssemblySpace24

"Mind if I join you?"

Jen looked up from her breakfast to see Thaddeus Jones standing beside the table. "Not at all," she replied, nudging the chair opposite her out with one foot.

Thud eased himself gingerly down into the seat, as though he was afraid the flimsy furniture would collapse under his heavily muscled bulk. "You picked a real classy place for us, Skipper," he teased.

Jen snorted. "I'm on a budget. We don't get paid till the job's done. Next time, we can stay at the Ritz. Until then, low key and low cost are my watchwords. If you don't like it, you can bankroll your own upgrade."

"I don't dislike it that much. And the Ritz is in Paris, dumbass."

"It's a figure of speech," Jen retorted, but she found herself smiling in spite of the insult. "So did you come down here to eat, or just to piss me off?"

"I can multitask," Thud shrugged, signalling the waitress. "Yeah, can I get a coffee and some of those little white sausages with the pretzels? Hold the mustard, though-that shit is nasty."

The waitress nodded curtly. "One Bavarian breakfast, no mustard, and one coffee. Anything more for you?" she asked Jen sourly.

"Just some more coffee, thanks," Jen requested. Once the woman had gone, she leaned back in her chair, studying her companion in more detail. Since making contact with him yesterday she hadn't had much opportunity to get reacquainted between putting the Fortune into long-stay docking, meeting up with Wai-Mei Xox in Hong Kong, and then getting to Berlin and doing a few hours private recon in the evening.

He'd put on a little weight from what she remembered, once-hard muscle starting to run to fat around his waist, and his haircut was distinctly scruffier than the high-and-tight he'd worn in the Corps, the tight black curls making him look a little fuzzy around the edges. He still favoured sleeveless t-shirts that showed off the sculpted muscles of his arms, and the definition there remained sharp, proclaiming loudly that even unfrocked, Master Sergeant Thaddeus Jones was not a man to cross lightly.

He let her look for a moment, then favoured her with his best shit-eating grin, teeth flashing white against his dark skin. "Like what you see, Bronwen?"

"I liked the view better when it had a little less sag round the belly, fella," Jen remarked. "You better lay off the beer and the donuts or you're gonna have a gut the size of Ganymede before you hit thirty."

Thud affected a pained wince. "Damn, that's cold. Three years no see, and all you've got for me is a food plan?"

Jen chuckled softly, spread her hands to concede the point. "Yeah, I'm sorry, that was a low blow. And I like what I see just fine. It's good to see you again, Thud. I've missed you."

She had missed him, missed having a kindred spirit to share her thoughts with, missed the bull sessions and the drinking and the laughs, missed having someone at her back who'd really have her back without an angle or a price tag. For all that she'd met and worked with a lot of people since leaving the military, Thud remained perhaps the only person she really considered a friend.

Jones smiled, a more genuine, pleased expression. "I missed you too, kiddo. The Corps was boring without you, and..." He broke off as the waitress returned with their order, banging the plate and the mugs down with a minimum of grace and stalking off again before they could even respond. "What put the bug up her ass?"

Jen shrugged. "Hard to tell. Maybe her daddy makes the mustard."

Thud snorted with laughter. "Be about my luck," he noted. "Anyway, this job..."