Undermining [Part 1]

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I have no idea who Jameson was, the joke around their memorial station was that the name comes from a historic brand of Old-Sol whiskey, and not a person at all. I've heard stories that suggest they helped found the Alliance, such stories tend to be interrupted with corrections that they actually helped found the Pilots Federation. Every inn, tavern, and bar in the Founders System had a cocktail named in their honour, whoever he or she may or may not have been. The bar-cum-restaurant our rag-tag group had piled into called their specialty a 'Missus Jameson'. The cocktail contained more sugar and colour than alcohol, according to Terrentius; he only ordered the one. The other Iovianus sibling, Quintina was thoroughly enjoying her fruit-garnished Chilled and Distilled, alcohol seemed not to be palatable to the recently freed Imperial Slave. Reggie and Derek, our technician and hired gun, had both ordered variations on whatever was inexpensive. The corporate Salraryman joining us had glared at the menu with an intensity not unlike the one she gave her P.A.D. while she was working.

Amanda then proceeded to grill the waiter furiously, before changing tone abruptly and asking for whatever he found to be good. She had shocked us all by suddenly pulling the ties from her tight paired-tails, letting her hair down, and phrasing her order by asking to be surprised. Shay had only ordered a small number of beers and a couple of packaged snacks, the Massive Mercenary was on the clock. Captain Wald had ordered a cocktail they only made in the immediate vicinity of his birthplace, as was his custom. They didn't have any of the ingredients, nor any facsimiles to the ingredients of a 'Gargle-Blaster'. My Old Friend was convinced to try a local classic made of fizzy water, an herb-distillate, and a citrus garnish. Captain B. found the cocktail quite enjoyable, he ordered several. Our group was taking a much needed respite from our overly complicated journey.

I forget what I ordered, the drink never touched my lips. I was deaf to my allies merriment, blinded to everything else. She was in the bar, wearing a flowing violet gown. She sat alone at a booth, doing a horrible job of pretending not to watch us. She had beaten us here somehow, or stayed impossibly tight to our heels.

“Eh?” Waldo may have been repeating his question for a while.

“S-sorry?” I replied, in a daze.

“Should I just tell the story?” His tone was exasperated.

“Uhh, yeah.” I muttered.

My Old Friend launched into a tale about our days smuggling Indi, and other fine liquors all about the Federation. It was either the one where we baited a sweet side profit in bounties in that crowded-ass mining system, or the one where our hired gun started a fight in a bar and put an end to the whole operation in a week, I'm not sure. I was busy keeping a terrified eye on the most dangerous person I'd ever met.

“Are you alright?” Shay asked me quietly.

Shay's accent was not uncommon in the Federation, nor outside of it, but one whose origin was lost to time. She rolled her R's quite profoundly, and her diction was sometimes off. I think her sentence structure had more to do with her early learning than any sort of dialect. To me, her slightly odd, but not truly unusual manner of speaking perfectly contrasted her Trans-Humanity; Shay was a Moreau. Head and shoulders taller than average, with several canine physical properties. She was also an astute friend.

“Umm... I, uhr-” Eloise Guy-Faustine had dropped her pretense and shot her gaze directly at our table when I'd begun to reply.

A terrible grin spread across her face as I clammed up. Shay furrowed her brow at me before slyly taking a look along the line of my vision. I stared down into my glass as Eloise did the same.

“Oh.” Shay's tone was somewhere between bemused and impressed. “She is quite beautiful, you are lucky to have caught her attention. You should buy a drink for her.” The Massive Mercenary had leaned in to whisper the last part.

“The... No... We...” I tried to compose myself, and failed. Shay noticed my trembling hands. Her expression turned to confusion, then concern.

“Have we stumbled across another acquaintance of yours?” Sharp as a tack, thank Gott for her.

A combat hardened Moreau might be deterrent enough for the Inquisitor, better still if Shay was ready for her. I replied with a stunted nod, Eloise had stood up. Out of her armour, she was taller than I had thought. Unnaturally tall, her legs were longer than the rest of her.

The Inquisitor removed a tiny device from her ear and placed it inside her purse, then began to saunter across the bar towards our table. Shay stood up and stepped behind Waldo's chair, she crossed her arms and glared at the Inquisitor. Eloise gave her a curt nod and cleared her throat to announce herself to the rest of the group.

“Hello miss, can we help you with something?” Captain Wald asked politely as he stood up.

“You are the famous Commander Waldo, or am I mistaken?” Eloise spoke with an oppressive sweetness.

“Captain B. Wald. People do insist on calling me famous. To whom do I owe the pleasure?” There was a minute glimmer in my Old Friend's eye as he spoke.

“My name is Eloise Guy-Faustine. I'm a big fan of yours.” She leaned on the table seductively.

“No you're not.” Waldo retrieved his glass from the table and drank some of it casually. Eloise was taken aback, and stood up again.

“...Captain...” She muttered. “Alright then, We represent the Imperial Inquisition.” She'd adopted a bored tone.

At her utterance of the organization she represented, the Iovianus siblings both held their breath. Amanda and Derek shot a look to each-other as Amanda re-tied her paired tails with a speed that downplayed the layering of her hair this required.

“So what?” Waldo replied as he drained his cocktail. Eloise's shoulders tensed, I'd received a skull fracture for being half as blasé towards her.

“We are just informing you that one or more of your underlings may or may not be under investigation. Please refrain from jumping out of Shinrarta Dezhra for the immediate future.” Eloise spoke very calmly, with a fake-polymer smile stuck on her face.

She wasn't facing me, but I'd seen her eyes before when she spoke like that. I was glad to not be exposed to that strange disconnect between the parts of her expression again. By the look on my Old Friend's face he was either stoic, or oblivious to the terrific nature of the Smiling Inquisitor.

“Go fuck yourself.” If I wasn't so busy fighting the panic, I probably would have laughed at Waldo's answer. “I know full well who I have working with me, and unless you want to try and stop me, you don't get to tell me where I do and don't go.” The smile was wiped from Eloise's face, but her eyes lit up.

“You are challenging the authority of the Inquisition? Her Imperial Authority?” Eloise had gripped her purse more tightly as she spoke, edged closer to my friend.

“Think very carefully about next move, miss.” Shay spoke up suddenly, and stepped between her charge and Eloise. Shay had uncrossed her arms.

“Homo-Canis Novus, an expensive toy. She looks young Captain Wald; you are a well connected man.” Eloise spoke through the Massive Mercenary.

“Kindly leave our table and stop insulting my friends, or you will have run afoul of a large group of dangerous people.” Waldo was quite upset, he had moved his hand onto the hilt of his Holva as he spoke.

Taking his lead Derek had stood up and cracked his knuckles. Reggie placed a large wrench onto the table with a thud. Shay made no sign of reacting to this development. The Inquisitor looked around, the glimmer in her eyes now being matched by a twisted grin.

“Illecebrae, but We really should decline...” Eloise glanced up at Shay, the Trans-Human's expression declared her distaste for being spoken through like that. “Oooh and here I am dressed so inappropriately.” The Inquisitor muttered and she shook her head and fidgeted with her purse, her expression torn.

“You have been asked to leave.” Shay was growing impatient. Eloise was still stalling, or having trouble deciding.

“How many men has she killed?” The Inquisitor asked Waldo expectantly. My friend gave her an exasperated, confused look and was about to reply when Shay cut him off.

“Enough. Step away from table.” Shay got uncomfortably close to Eloise. The Inquisitor's smile got toothier.

“Will you try to kill one more if We don't?” The Inquisitor's hand had slipped into her purse.

“There will be no 'Try'.” The Massive Mercenary placed her palm onto Eloise's shoulder, to keep whatever was inside the Inquisitor's purse contained.

Eloise looked at the giant furry hand sitting on her with disdain for a moment. Then she looked back at Shay. The Inquisitor's eyes were angry, or hungry, there was no way to tell. The grin she wore never faltered.

“Someone help! This Monstrum has a hold of me!” The Inquisitor suddenly shrieked, the bar got very quiet very fast.

My ears started to ring as people got up and the murmuring started. Shay's expression darkened but she kept her hand on Eloise's shoulder. A gaggle of men approached the table, they looked to be Pilots Federation. Their impromptu leader was definitely a Commander, he was wearing a yellow-striped Federal Navy jacket.

“What seems to be the trouble here?” He asked pointedly.

“This lady has refused to leave our table.” Shay spoke matter-of-factly. The clutch of Commanders eyed her suspiciously.

“How about you let go of her, and everybody goes their own way. No drama?” The Commander was trying to deescalate the situation, Eloise suddenly gained a pained expression.

“I believe she is armed.” Shay added.

Everyone standing shot a glance at where Eloise's purse was hiding her hand. Except for the Inquisitor, who continued to glare furiously at Shay.

“Most of us are, it's a dangerous galaxy.” He eyeballed the Massive Mercenary as he said it, his composure was well maintained.

His hand was resting on a holster. Shay very slowly let go of Eloise.

“Are you quite done, Inquisitor?” Shay spat the words at her, she was fuming.

“Only for now.” She spoke through gritted teeth, it seemed the Inquisitor's plan had failed.

“Oh I see, Imperial crap.” The Commander laughed before turning to the table in general. “Hey, sorry about this.” He waved his hands dismissively and started to walk back to his friends. The hush faded from the bar.

Eloise began to walk away, seemingly defeated. Waldo sat back down, as did Derek. Shay stayed standing but re-crossed her arms. I noticed that the Inquisitor seemed to be idly following the group of Commanders, just before I noticed her hand was still stuffed into her purse. I found myself again removed from the table of friends I sat at, and instead was intently watching the woman in the purple gown approach the clutch of Commanders at their table on the other side of the bar.

She said something to them that made them laugh at her. She grabbed one of their beverages and poured it onto the one who had spoken with us. The group of Commanders stood up and moved towards her. Eloise Guy-Faustine slipped her hand out of her purse. No, that's not really true, the purse was destroyed when she deployed the blade.

When I was very young I'd gawped at a blade like that in a shop, not quite like that. The one I'd been so enamored with was only a few inches long, but I'd never seen a state-change-alloy retractable-knife before. In truth they were very expensive for what they were, and the blade could get stuck deployed or in the reservoir if you let it lose charge. Shit though, seeing a full-length sword flow into existence supported only by a high-voltage electro-magnetic field until it snaps solid is damn impressive.

Seeing Eloise Guy-Faustine cleave the Commander in two with it, for having the audacity to try and be helpful, was less impressive. 'Horrific' is the word I would use, 'Vulgar' was the one Shay chose. The second of the clutch of Commanders put up his arms to defend himself, he lost one of them. There was a shout and someone threw a bottle into the fray. Eloise spun around on one foot, and cut it out of the air with a flourish. The remainder of the group she had targeted was left behind as she galloped across to the one who had thrown it. He was still sitting there and fumbling for another bottle when she got to him. The poor bastard had no idea what he'd done, he wasn't even looking her way.

The Smiling Inquisitor was oblivious to the havoc she was fueling as she stabbed her blade through the man's shoulder and into the bartop. His cry was cut short by her grasping his neck, and leaning on the long hilt. From where I was sitting I couldn't see Eloise Guy-Faustine's face, but I could easily see the face of the bottle-thrower after she wrenched him around. His eyes were lost to an animal terror, it was a look you saw in the eyes of those forced to face oblivion. I'd seen it before in the eyes of men who were about to die, or staring in from the edge of an event horizon.

“Not Here!” A Commander had burst into the bar shouting, her entourage filing in behind her. Eloise eyed the newly arriving group and slowly pulled her sword out of the sobbing man and the soaking bar.

“You do not command Us.” The Inquisitor sounded quite amused by the prospect. She was flagrantly ignoring the multi-cannon already spinning it's barrels in the hands of one of the newcomer's crew.

“You do not kill in here!” The Commander commanded back.

“We have the authority to kill wherever We please.” Eloise dragged the tip of her bloodied sword across the floor in front of her as she widened her stance.

The split in her burgundy speckled gown spread to reveal her legs. Eloise Guy-Faustine was missing her right leg from just above the knee, and her left from the hip. Her mechanical replacements had been constructed with elongated shins to grant her disproportionate height.

“Not here. You have no authority here, you are no-one.” The newly arrived Commander was starting to sound familiar to me.

“We are the law!” The Inquisitor shouted. The Commander and her crew all laughed.

“The law?” The Commander turned her head to the barkeep, who was at the farthest end of his bar from where the bleeding man was weeping. “Franklin, who's the law in your bar?”

“Commander Eidolon is.” The bartender replied frankly. Eidolon took her helmet off.

“You're God-damned right.” Our former hired gun announced.

My eyes bulged a little, Waldo started laughing openly. Eidolon shot a glance at our table before returning her sight to the no longer smiling Inquisitor.

“Now is the part where you get to walk away.” Eidolon whispered to Eloise.

There was a very tense couple of seconds before Eloise retracted her blade. The blood still clinging to it was vaporized as the alloy melted and was drawn magnetically back into the hilt. The Inquisitor stormed out of the bar, her fury was palpable even before the glance she shot in my direction from the doorway. I suspect that Eloise was regretting not wearing her power-suit, I had never been more thankful for a semi-formal dress code.

Eidolon and her crew situated themselves at the table closest to our own. The bar returned to a slightly muted version of normal. A medical team arrived shortly thereafter and began to bandage the man who had thrown the bottle. The disarmed commander had left of his own accord with the remains of his group shortly after Eloise. The remains of the felled Commander who had tried to help were carried off by a pair of janitorial staff. She introduced herself curtly and referred to her entourage simply as her new crew. The one toting the multi-cannon and Derek began to talk-shop immediately, another of Eidolon's crew interjecting occasionally. Waldo ordered a new round of drinks and started the process of getting caught up. I was about able to sit there and quietly make it look like I wasn't near tears with fear.

“I can't even remember the last time the old crew was back together.” Eidolon was lying, she had a near eidetic memory.

“By the looks of it, there's more crew than last time too.” Waldo joked. Eidolon's agreement was met by her crew holding up their fists in a small but well-drilled gesture.

“This pack of hounds following me around are nothing but bottom feeders, scavvers, and fools.” Eidolon took a draw from her glass before finishing. “Survivors and Soldiers. What about you guys, smuggling?” This new crew of hers must have worked hard to earn her respect, for Eidolon to be speaking in such derogatory terms.

“Something like that.” Waldo chuckled. Eidolon looked around the table carefully.

“I'm sure there's a story to how you found Commander GoreWound again, I'll hear it later.” She looked around the table. “If you convinced Reggie to come out into the black with you, it's something important.”

Eidolon's mention of his name almost had Reggie interject, but Waldo hushed him with a small gesture of his hand. Eidolon was going to deduce her answer, it was an old trick of hers. She turned to Amanda and addressed her.

“You're from the Sirius school of business.” Amanda agreed, but Eidolon wasn't asking. “Your Eldredge Tie is impeccable, but your hair is throwing me. Is that a style from your homeworld?”

“It used to be.” Amanda's curt answer drew Eidolon in.

After an insistently raised eyebrow from the Commander, the Salaryman explained.

“This hairstyle was quite popular on Panem, up until two years ago. I'm not sure if anything is popular on Panem anymore.” Amanda half-spoke into her drink. Eidolon reached across the table and took the startled woman's hand.

“I remember Kappa Fornacis.” Eidolon said in solidarity.

“Yeah, and I remember Eranin.” Amanda replied spitefully. “I remember Neits and Luluwala too. Nijotec, Banki, Lugh, Falsci...” Amanda snatched her hand From Eidolon's grasp and took her drink from the table. “I want to not have to remember, I want nobody else to have to remember again.” She finished her beverage angrily.

“You're smuggling out slaves, aren't you.” Eidolon had glanced towards the Iovianus' and learned everything else she needed to know.

I noticed they had retracted themselves from the conversations at the table, they looked about half as shaken up as I felt.

“You are in the hands of the best smuggler I've ever met, and the most reliable pilot I've ever watched haul.” Eidolon suddenly said to the siblings.

They looked slightly relieved. A very minute smile had reached Amanda's lips.

Waldo slowly began to lightly clap. Eidolon would have made an excellent investigator for a security division, if that was the side of the law she lived on.

“Impressive.” Shay's single word was the first she had uttered since Eloise had left.

“Don't even, a little deductive reasoning is not as impressive as a Moreau.“ Eidolon stood up and held out her hand to Shay.

Her unusual interpretation of social contract had silenced her interest, but now that Shay had spoken up, Eidolon was ready to converse. The Moreau looked at the Commander's outstretched hand for a moment before shaking it.

“Most would not be impressed by me.” The words would have sounded threatening if uttered in another tone.

“When I was young I lived near a Trans-Human family. They kept to themselves mostly, but I always wanted to ask them a million questions. Never did though.” This was the closest, or second closest to Eidolon talking about her past I would ever hear. The mention of others like herself had Shay's ears twitching.

“Where was this? How long ago?” Her tone was a careful mask of only slight interest. Eidolon waved a hand.

“Fourty months on a refugee ship, almost thirty years ago now. They stayed with the vessel longer than me, I have no idea what happened to them.” Shay's stern expression was only slightly betrayed by her ears flattening. “They were Scincomorphs.” Eidolon added, taking note of and trying to temper the Massive Mercenary's disappointment.

Eidolon was advising Shay to keep her hold on Waldo and the rest of his crew as I excused myself from the table. I just needed a moment to compose myself, the tremor in my fingers Eloise had brought with her had yet to leave. I was in luck, the restroom was built for a single patron at a time, and thus the door had a lock. Sadly my luck was as mixed as ever, the lock was already engaged. I stood in the tiny hallway leaning against my cane, trying to calm my breathing. In the few minutes I had, I made little progress.

“Commander Revenant!” Eidolon's voice boomed down the hallway, her tone mirthful.

“Shay told you that story quick.” My voice was mostly free of my fear.

“Just the bullet points.” Eidolon smiled at her pun. “How you holding up?”

“Fine.” I lied.

“Sure.” She caught it.

Eidolon stepped closer and grasped my visor. She pulled it off my head revealing my tear stricken face. She handed it to me, then tried awkwardly to wipe my tears. Her efforts were for naught, too much for a single hand.

“You have to be careful doing that. You think you are hiding behind the mask, but you're the only person blocking their face.” She told me.

“Gottdamn, what are ya? A poet?” My laugh came out more like a sob.

“Fuck no. You are the only Commander in this bar with their visor on, suspicious behavior for a man with a full glass in front of him.” She laughed at me, I tightened my grip on my cane as I felt a laugh of my own join hers.

“What are you doing in the Founder's System, Eidolon?” I had none of her deductive abilities.

“Drinking what might be my last Missus Jameson.” She said in a suddenly mirthless tone. My sight was drawn to her shoulders as they dropped, her new flightsuit was a pale grey.

“But 'Last drinks are for pussies who aren't coming back.' You told me that, more time's 'n I could count.” A more manageable fear had come to me, concern for my friend.

“My crew and I are off to a big one, maybe The Big One.” She spoke in a whisper.

Eidolon could be a bombastic embellisher, she had taken up with more than one ludicrous conspiracy theory over the years. When she whispered like that, it was because she was sure.

“Where? Who?” My tone hushed to meet hers.

One of the janitors who had taken away the remains suddenly exited the restroom. He glanced over and Eidolon and I, nearly pressed against each-other and speaking in hushed tones. Well, at that point we were both staring wide eyed at him. He apologized and gestured towards the washroom before scurrying away. After a tense moment Eidolon spoke back up.

“If everything goes according to plan; The FNV Formidable, and caught unaware in transit somewhere in the Pleiades.” I tensed at the Capital Vessel's name.

“W-what?” I managed to ask. The twinge of panic in my voice visibly confused Eidolon.

“Federal Navy is occupying Merope, maybe Maia too. Unreliable reports. FNS Thanatos seems to be the primary, FNS Invincible is probably the secondary.” She looked at me, now that I was getting context I was calming. Eidolon continued. “The older ship looks to be offering relief to the others. They have to be doing something to keep them resupplied out there; The Ant-Hill Mob would rather shut down Obsidian Orbital than resupply one of those Battlecruisers, and I'm pretty sure we would know about it if the Federal Navy had gone pirate on a starport.” I decided not to correct her assumption at the tail end of her explanation.

“Wait, The Pleiades? Since when is there a starport in the Pleiades Nebula?” This was news to me. I suppose it was an okay place for a tourist trap, a little out of the way though.

“Since the Canonn Research Group and some schmuck named Ishmael threw down enough credits to get one built, a few months ago.” Her answer only raised further questions.

“What the hell is in that nebula?” It had to be something valuable, or dangerous. More likely both.

“Fucked if I know. Rocks, I think. All I know is that those rocks have the Federation throwing Naval assets all the way across the bubble. I think it's all phony, just an excuse. I think they're building up forces and staging for something.” To her, the motivation for war was of much less importance than the war itself.

“Where d'you come into all o' this?” I asked, expecting a name drop and an excited estimate of wealth.

Eidolon's face turned to stone and she presented her side, showing me her right shoulder; a geometric eagle, its wings were draped iconographically in banners. The eagle was violet, inside a black octagon. Three white triangles pointing inwards shared the space, leaving an obvious gap for a fourth. I didn't understand Imperial Navy rank symbols, but I knew that badge. Eidolon had signed her name under the recently crowned Empress.

“What happened?!” I asked her, shock in my voice.

I couldn't imagine what had gone down to cause this drastic shift in her personality. Last time we had spoken about astro-politics, Eidolon had dismissively referred to the entire Imperial aristocracy as a pack of backstabbers.

“You.” She touched my sternum with her index finger to punctuate the accusation. “Did you ever go back?” Her question ripped me from the trance her statement put me into.

“Back where?” There were scant few places Eidolon and I had been at together, and of them; nearly none would be important enough for a return.

“Please tell me you went back to her?” For the first time, I saw pleading in Commander Eidolon's eyes.

“W-who? Where are you talking about?” I was afraid I knew.

“Ugh, men! Bernoulli Gateway, you fuck!” I was right, I hate it when I'm right.

My reply was only to look away and make a creaking noise with my throat.

“We waited... She waited for you. I had to go too.” Eidolon was uncharacteristically at a loss for words, it only lasted a moment. “She quit her job, you know.” She managed to add.

Like being run-through, like my skull being crushed, I was forced for the first time in so very long to think about her again. She quit her job? Oh Gott, what had I done? You can't just quit being the administrator of a starport. I must have opened and closed my mouth a few times, Eidolon spoke again.

“She told me to give you two things, if I ever found you again.” I looked up to her expectantly. “She thanks you, not just for the help; for everything. By the time I had to leave, she was happy-ish. I think she hated the position, but didn't know for sure until...” Eidolon sighed.

“What's the other thing?” It wasn't closure, much like that perfect pair of cups of coffee I'd drank that one time; closure was something you taste briefly and pay for the rest of your life. It was a pale imitation of closure, nearly but not quite the same. Almost tasted close enough to let me pretend, sometimes.

“I'm not going to slap you, even for Ms. Ratherford.” Eidolon patted my shoulder, I could never shake the feeling that I would have rather been struck.

I hung around in that hallway for a while after Eidolon left me there, by the time I returned to the table it was nearly deserted. Terrentius Iovianus sat there waiting for me, he was surrounded by empty seats and empty glasses.

“You took your time, If I didn't know better I'd think you were avoiding me.” He said.

“Not just you.” I muttered.

“I want to go with you.” His expression was intense. “To meet this person you know.”

“No ya don't.” I told him.

“That is for me to decide.” He had quite the point.

“Terrentius, don't you think we should save it 'till the morning?” I hadn't planned on waiting, but I gestured to the graveyard he had made of the table around him.

“I'm an accountant, Commander.” He stood up, little to no sway in his legs. “Quid enim exspectas?”

Her apartment was on the opposite side of the hab-ring, we found a tram station to take us along the direct route through the starport's axis. We walked, then rode in silence for almost half the journey. As the tram made its way back into the gravity on the other side of the ring, Terrentius spoke up.

“This seems a silly time to be asking, but who is this person we are meeting with?” Mr. Iovianus forced some synthetic confidence into his voice. I could see through it, I was a connoisseur of that vintage.

“Just...” Who was she? How could I explain her to Terrentius, I couldn't explain Landy to myself. “She's just somebody I used to know.” Was the best I had.

“Well, what's her name? How do you know her?” There was a bemusement to his voice.

“Lara Andrews, I used to be her helmsman.” I used to be more to her, but Terrentius didn't need to hear about that.

“Before you were a Commander?” I suppose I was wrong to assume an accountant wouldn't be perceptive.

“She got me into the Pilots Federation.” He shot me a sly glance as I mentioned this part, his next question was asked in a tone suggestive of him already knowing my answer.

“Are you trying to get soror mea and I licensed?” Ever so faintly, his eyes lit up. I had to temper his expectations.

“I haven't seen Landy in decades. I ain't promisin' nothin', I can't.” He nodded a little, but his expression didn't change. “If this works, y'all still gonna have to pass the exams, learn ta fly.” I added.

“Calculo est calculo, I can learn to work any system. Quintina already knows how to fly.” He retort was tinged with a truer confidence than before.

The rest of our journey was quieter. We arrived at her apartment block, even after all these years I was able to find it easily. I figure that sort of ingrained habit is probably why we end up with haunted prison colonies. Terrentius complimented the 'Condominiums', I had no taste for little boxes to live in that can't even move. The doorman wore a well tailored uniform.

“There is nobody by the name of Lara Andrews residing here.” He told me matter-of-factly. Terrentius became visibly worried.

“Commander Landy.” I told him. The doorman responded with a cold expression. “Tell her I said 'I'm sorry, I'm back.' She'll know.”

He turned on his heel and marched away. His return was swift.

“Only one.” The doorman said as he pointed at the elevator. I gave Terrentius a shrug, he replied with a curt nod.

The elevator played the same chirpy music, It gave me chills. The hatch opened to reveal a carved wooden door, I reached out to knock on it when it swung open. Landy was wearing a pair of ratty slippers and a hastily applied bathrobe, she seemed to have been awakened by my arrival. The last time I'd seen her she would have been in the middle of her subjective day around this hour. The last time I'd seen her she'd looked older too, Progenitor Cells. Lara Andrews was somewhere around ninety years old, but she looked about twenty-five.

“Allan, what the fuck are you doing here?” She didn't step out of the doorway.

“I need your help.” She smirked.

“I give everyone two rules, and here you are breaking number one.” Her head shook, judgmentally.

“About that, I don't need help for me...” She assumed I'd only broken the first rule.

“Oh fuck-off Allan! What are you trying to drag me into?” She let me inside.

'Don't come crying back to her' she'd told me. 'Don't let anyone come crying to you' as well. I figured I knew Landy a little better than most and she would let me break these rules, for a price. She led me to a room off the entrance-way. There were bookshelves, lamps, and several cushioned chairs. Landy directed me to one and sat in another next to it. A tiny table between them held a decanter of dark liquor, she took the stopper off and placed two crystal glasses next to it.

“What do you want?” Forceful and sultry, I didn't remember Landy ever acting another way.

“Two sets of entrance papers, as soon as.” To Lara Andrews this was, and had always been an easy task.

Andrews was a name shared by one of the board members of the Academy, Lara Andrews could get anyone into the Pilots Federation if she wanted to. What Landy wanted though, was leverage.

“Two?” Her smirk deepened as did my potential debts.

“I met a couple, they need an out. We done tried every other option we had, Landy.” I hoped that would be enough.

“Don't lie to me. Who are they and what do they need an out from?” She always took the truth seriously, but I didn't lie.

“They're slaves, they were.” She stared into my eyes, it made me very uncomfortable but she wouldn't appreciate me looking away.

“Are they?” She gripped my thigh as she asked.

“One of them is.” Her fingernails dug a little. “The other one's an accountant.”

“Whose accountant are you hiding from them?” Her fingernails dug a little deeper.

“The Kumo Crew.” Her hand pulled away from my thigh, but her palm streaked across my cheek with a sharp sound.

“You idiot! You think I'm going help you move a whistle-blower?” She wasn't mad, she was pretending to be.

“I think you're gonna help me get himself moved, and I know you're gonna bleed me dry for it.” Landy's expression changed, I never would have found that kind of confidence around her before.

“I would love to meet whoever taught you to cut to the chase.” This time her hand caressed my thigh.

She was waiting for me to speak, so I waited for her.

“What are you being payed for this job?” Her question had less forcefulness to it.

“This ain't a job.” Her hand stopped moving for a moment.

“What happened to you?” After I'd left her crew for the academy, I landed myself that sweet-gig with the Federal Navy.

“Life happened, Lara. Are you gonna help or not?” I was getting impatient with her flirting, she was going to take what she wanted anyway, this was just wasting time.

“I need two favours, for two sets of papers and two broken rules.” She walked her middle and index fingers up my leg.

“What are they?” I knew what the first one was.

“You know what the first one is.” Her grip punctuated her words.

“What else.” I asked sullenly.

“I need you to enter a race for me. I need you to put someone out of a race for me.” I assumed that this meant she still had it, stashed in a garage somewhere.

“How 'out of' the race?” Rather than verify if she did, I asked a more important question.

“All the way.” Her attempt to seductively tell me to kill someone, reminded me again of why I'd left. I reached down and held her hands.

“Wait.” She glared at me. “I'm not here alone...” She reached over the opposite side of her chair and hit a button on an intercom.

“Send the spare home.” She barked into the device before turning back to me. “No interruptions, I've missed you.”

There was a time when I was young, when it was all fun and games. Life had been a blur of adventure, credits, alcohol, and fucking. It took me a long time to fathom how she was using me. I'd concluded to myself after being left alone in the cockpit again, that I was using her too. That the situation was as fair as could be, both of us were happy. That status quo in my mind only lasted long enough for my haunt to agree. It was made much more difficult to see Lara with the same eyes, after being told that he thought she was right for me.

After she was satisfied, she gave me the access code for the storage unit with the Eagle in it and sent me on my way. I found Terrentius waiting for me, sitting on the ground outside the apartment complex.

“You didn't have to wait.” I muttered. “I'm sorry 'bout that.” I added.

“I don't know my way around this Starport., I did have to wait.” His words cut me unintentionally.

“I'm sorry, what are we waiting for? Let’s get outta here.” I held out my hand to help him stand.

“What took you so long?” He asked once he was on his feet. I gestured down the pathway for us to walk.

“I was paying for you.” I answered without thinking.

“How many...” Terrentius glanced back at the shiny living space we were walking away from, and realized that it hadn't cost credits. He seemed to lose interest in finding an answer. “Thank you, Commander.”

I looked at the accountant, a few names and numbers in that man's head had managed to blow my life out of the water. It wasn't his fault mind you, he was just the catalyst to the frothing reaction that was now all I knew. I suddenly wanted to tell him not to thank me, but instead to take this gift and not squander it. I wanted to shout at him to go out and make a difference and not waste his life, like me.

But I stayed quiet, Terrentius was doing everything in his power to make a difference. He was doing everything in Amanda's power to make a difference as well. Not to mention Captain B. and myself. I couldn't put my finger on how, but before he'd even met me: Terrentius Iovianus had somehow managed to get me to at least for a moment, stop wasting my life. Only one other person had managed that before. I vowed to try and treat him better than I had treated her.

We arrived back at the docking ring, I left Terrentius at the intersection where the walkway branched between docking pad seven and docking pad three. We had gotten lucky enough to be assigned pads next to each other on arrival. I think neither myself, nor B. Wald ever found more motivation to leave our ships grounded before. Vincent and The Highwayman did strike a magnificent image in that proximity.

Vincent was a Core Dynamics Assault Ship. Fleet ready but for a few minor details. Some of his internal accoutrements had been scavenged before we'd met, and someone had given his twin railguns a once over with a fine-toothed and warranty-voiding comb. In the right pair of hands a vessel like Vincent could be a nigh-unstoppable force, I still wasn't sure what he was in hands like mine.

The Highwayman was a fascinating comparison to draw against him though. Type-Sixes were never meant to take that thruster set, the professionalism of the install only compounded the madness of it. Waldo had told me once that it was easy to do, Lakon built the Type-Nine too he'd said. They wire right up, no fuss he'd said.

When Lakon started showing off the Concept-Ship of the Keelback, the pair of us had laughed like children. Wald said they looked to have solved the thrust disparity for the retros with it, but if they don't pull the trigger on the fighter bay that thing will be a laughing stock. Not to say that nothing had been sacrificed on The Highwayman by my Old Friend's modifications mind you. She was lacking in cargo space, Waldo had needed to re-define the internal compartments for the power 'genny and the 'shifter. That said, he'd never told me how he managed to keep that little cargo rack invisible to a scanner.

I glanced past Vincent as I approached and noticed that there was a Type-Nine docked to pad ten. The larger ship was a dwarfing backdrop. Her paint was worn, what little of it was left was orange. Her hull looked scarred, I saw in the gouges the distinctive patterning of the composites used on military ships. It caught my eye because you almost never see such armouring on a Lakon transporter, and I used to be one of the few who did it. I walked past Vincent a little to get a closer look at the mysterious Lakon-Heavy.

“The hell? Oh it's you. Hey, hi!” A man shouted from the far side of the docking pad, close to the prow of the vessel. It took me a moment to recognize him as one of Eidolon's crew, in truth I recognized his multi-cannon first. “The Boss'll wanna see you before we go.” He added as he fumbled with a P.A.D.

“Oh? Yeah!” Eidolon's voice came from a hatch elsewhere along the vessel. “What brought you over here?!” She was already jogging across the docking pad.

“I live next door.” I jammed my thumb over my shoulder at Vincent.

“You're shitting me! You fly that now?” She honestly thought I was joking.

“I should be as surprised.” I smiled a little as I rocked my head towards her ship.

“Titania. She's the best warship in the galaxy.” Eidolon whispered.

“Warship? What kinda warship is a Type-Nine, Eidolon.” I ribbed.

“She holds eight fighters, she holds fourty marines, she has dorsal and ventral turrets, bigger shield genny than a Clipper, and if some poor fool tries to board her. Well, my friend, Titania has me inside.” A strange smile filtered into Eidolon's face for a moment, somewhere between a lament and a triumph. “What do you call that beast, a bulk-transporter?” She joked suddenly, gesturing at my ship.

“So far, all we've done is move people. His name's Vincent.” As long as she didn't ask how I'd learned his name, it would be fine.

“Trust you to fly the most heavily armed tourist ship in the Milky-Way. I thought you told me all ships were women?” I had told her that, and she'd told me that ships didn't need names.

“I thought they were.” I explained as best I could, we stood in a surprisingly not awkward silence for a moment. “Why are you going to the Pleiades, Eidolon?” I asked finally.

“I already told you why.” She wasn't lying, but I knew what a half-truth sounded like.

“What would Commander Eidolon risk it all over? I don't get what you're getting out of it.” I said to her.

I was pretty sure I understood that something inside her had changed, and more-or-less understood that I was somehow responsible. But I still didn't understand what she was doing. My barely related question somehow managed to get Eidolon on my page.

“We have to beat Denton's ships there.” She whispered.

“Patreus's sending the fleet?” So far as I could tell this just meant the presence of one more ship meant nothing, even less so if it was there alone.

“He is taking the fleet, and we have to get there first. We have to hurt The Formidable before the damn fool arrives.” Her whisper had a tinge of desperation I had never heard from Eidolon before, but her expression carried a chillingly familiar determination though.

“I don't understand.” I had no head for fleet tactics, I think that Eidolon thought that would be explanation enough.

“Denton is going to put the Imperial fleet in the same, or a worse position for logistics than the Feds are in. Nobody is convincing him to wait, or make proper preparations. He wants to appear as 'strong' as he can.” Eidolon had put a steadying hand on my shoulder, it wasn't for me.

“You're gonna go tip the Gottdamned table.” I was in awe of the audacity of her plan. Even if it somehow worked, it was suicide.

“If we don't: they stalemate. The War never ends.” I had only a tenuous grasp of why Eidolon had no choice but to do something about that. She all-but refused to talk about where she was born; all-but a single, drunken utterance of 'It's gone'.

“How d'you know you've picked the right side.” I knew her well enough to know; that question was the one that kept her out of it before. 'Kept her sane' she'd said.

“I don't.” Her voice was nearly inaudible. Her grip on my shoulder was nearly painful.

I gave her a half-hug with the arm not holding onto my cane. Then I stepped back, ignored the protest from my spine as I straightened it, and gave Commander Eidolon a salute. The Federal Navy had drilled the gesture into me like everyone else they got the chance to. It was supposed to mean honour, it never did before. Eidolon gaped at me for a fleeting moment; I'd never told her, I make a habit of not telling people. After only a fraction of a second she clasped her heels together, not unlike how they had us do it, but her toes were further apart. She made a fist in her outstretched right hand, then pressed it onto her chest. The galaxy would be a better place if those mismatched salutes could be shared more often.

“You have to do something for me, Commander.” She announced after a long pause.

“Anything, Commander.” I tightened my grip on my cane. I have so many debts, what was one more. This one would at least be worthwhile.

“My turn to 'have to go' has finally come. You aren't allowed to do that anymore, okay?” For the last time, I saw pleading in Eidolon's eyes.

“I-” Choking a little on my words, I nodded instead.

Commander Eidolon looked at me, her expression slowly becoming a smile. That determined shine appeared again in her eyes.

“See ya around.” She told me before turning on her heel and marching back to her ship.

I watched Titania fly through the docking corridor: carrying heroes and fools, to glory and death. After a while I returned to Vincent. I crept as quietly as I could past Shay's room as I headed for the cockpit, lest I wake her. As the hatch opened I felt foolish, she was sitting in the co-pilot's chair and smoking a cigar.

“You have been gone long.” She said. I could hear that she was tired, she must have waited for me.

“Sorry 'bout that, it took a little longer than I'd hoped.” I didn't lie, I just left out the details.

“Do not apologize, I wished to thank you.” Her words came out with a cloud of smoke.

“For what?” I thought we were all caught up on thanks.

“For... Helping the Iovianus'... And for...” She furrowed her brow, thinking.

“For what?” I felt like I'd lost the plot.

“Captain Wald and yourself are the first people I have met who would do this for nothing.” She muttered.

“Shay?” She'd never really spoken about her past, but I understood there was pain in it. Most pasts had some.

“My experience since Captain Wald bought out my contract have been... Enlightening. I am not sure I have been so fortunate as to meet many 'Good People' before suddenly meeting two of them, perhaps more.” The Massive Mercenary shrugged and sighed. “Thank you for allowing me to stay aboard, Commander.” With that, she went to bed.

Once I was alone, I sat down in the pilot's chair and brought up the comms panel. Two new messages were waiting for me. One was a message congratulating my sponsorship into the race, listing the privileges that came with that status and the rules of the competition. The other message was just the name. I had no chance of sleeping, even if I didn't have the laughter coming from the empty co-pilot's seat.

After he awoke, Waldo came by and I let him think he woke me. He wanted to get the details immediately. I'd told him we needed coffee to talk. There was a tiny cafeteria meant for pilots just off the nearest terminal building, their coffee was awful but it was strong. Wald ordered a beer, he had much the same to say of it.

“So, what's happening?” Waldo asked again as we were served.

“We got a set of entrance papers for 'em, I just gotta enter a race.” I poured the coffee into my mouth. A sly smile spread onto my friend's face.

“I didn't know you race.” Waldo's voice was hushed.

“I don't.” I never did, not for me anyway.

“Do you have to win?” His question was tinged with a hint of concern, but washed in the tone of excitement.

“No.” My answer erased his worries.

“You don't have anything to race, do you?” I could see the glimmer in my friend's eyes telling me he was planning something.

“Sorta... We're covered.” It took many years of work to surprise Captain B. Wald, so it seemed.

He didn't finish his beer, we just payed and left once my coffee had been consumed. A short walk away from the terminal building we heard rapidly approaching footfalls. Terrentius was bounding over as fast as he could. He had no legs for running in the low gravity of the docking ring, he had yet to master keeping himself from rotating after each step. Throwing decorum to the vents: he was using his hands to meet the floor. He was calling to us to wait for him. Shay was trying to keep up with him, her gait was lopsided as she jogged. The Massive Mercenary was more adept at movement in low Gee, simple bounding steps. Her hair was un-brushed and she was pressing her hand to the side of her torso. She had been awoken suddenly to make this sprint, her painkillers had yet to kick in.

“Terry, you don't have to-” Waldo was cut off by a breathless declaration.

“Yes I do.” Mr. Iovianus hadn't quite mastered coming to a halt either, I half-caught him.

“Vanishing in the small hours makes guarding your body difficult, Captain Wald.” Shay added with a little rasp in her voice as she finished crossing the distance to us.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” My friend said through an embarrassed smile, massaging the back of his neck.

“Where are we going?” Terrentius asked, nearly having caught his breath. Waldo looked at me expectantly.

“Ta pick up an Eagle from storage.” I answered as I pointed along the pathway to the dockworks desk.

“You own Eagle?” Shay asked, surprised enough to momentarily stop running her hands through her tangled hair.

“No, it ain't mine.” I half-lied. A third-hand gift, I never got around to accepting.

The desk was manned by an older gentleman wearing a pair of blue overalls over his flightsuit. He took the access code without speaking and gave me a tiny sheaf of plastic with the number twenty-eight printed on it. I lead the group around the docking ring.

I was starting to figure out my cane, I had been using it when my hip started hurting, but that was wrong. I needed to walk with it all the time, to keep my hip from hurting. Docking Pad twenty-eight was deserted when we arrived, the stairwell leading under the deck to the garage had a flickering light. I had marched directly into the doorway when Waldo laughed.

“Hey! Look at that.” He said and pointed directly upward.

“Oh, yeah. That's alsus.” Terrentius agreed.

I noticed Shay seemed unimpressed, in discord with the other two. A step backwards out of the doorway and I could join them in looking upwards. Following Wald's finger I saw The Highwayman and Vincent directly opposite us.

“Yup, pretty cool.” I gave a non-committal agreement and pushed on down the stairs.

After a few flights of stairs, we were facing a retractable slatted hatch. I punched the number into the keypad and it started to roll away into the ceiling. The fringes of the docking pad had crates and cannisters strapped down, here and there. Landy was storing other keepsakes alongside it, by the looks of things.

“She's a beaut!” Waldo exclaimed when the door finished opening.

“I guess.” I muttered. The railguns were still mounted, those had to go.

Waldo jogged over to the Eagle's aft end and jumped up, he gripped the bottom edge of one of the main thruster nozzles and vaulted himself into it. His legs waggled from the opening for a moment before he slipped out and dropped back down to the deck. He took a few steps backwards, getting a better view of the ship and halting a stagger.

“I didn't know you knew Felicity.” My friend was impressed.

“Madame Farseer ain't got no clue who I am Waldo. This thing ain't mine.” My Old Friend just waved his hand over my insistence.

I climbed up the ramp, they followed me. We all crammed into the cockpit, Shay was still standing on the access ramp her head and shoulders joined us. I took the pilot's seat. I kept my hands in my lap for a moment and refused to feel at home in that chair. Without looking, I reached out and flipped the startup switch. I brought up the systems panel and kept the weapons from being fed anything. As the sounds of life were pumped into the old Core-Dynamics fighter, Waldo caught sight of something. No, he caught something with his ear. My Old Friend made a strange face and started looking around.

“Where are your shields?” Captain B. asked me after waiting for the ship to finish coming to life.

“Race-ships don't need shields Waldo.” It was theoretically true.

“They don't need guns either, friend.” He gestured slightly at the still open systems panel.

“Those ain't gon' be there fer long.” Leaving the trio of shiny accelerators to rust in this garage would be a fine act of rebellion against Landy. Futile and likely to go unnoticed, perfect.

I was rifling through the systems and making sure nothing major needed to be done before the race, when Terrentius asked about it.

“When is this race? Soon I hope.” He had been closer to me than I'd thought, watching me operate the computer.

I brought up the message on my P.A.D. and handed it to him.

“You can bring a teammate.” He exclaimed almost immediately.

“I can?” I asked.

“You can?” Waldo spoke in unison with me.

“According to this 'Racers are allowed one navigator per vessel and up to two vessels per team.' Are both of you going to enter?” Terrentius' explanation caused Waldo to massage his chin.

“Hmm... I bet you they have some technicality that would keep The Highwayman out of it.” Waldo sounded like he meant specifically. “They should, it would only be fair.” He added with a chuckle.

“It says 'Vessels must be able to dock on a small pad.'” Terrentius read.

“Bah! They probably wouldn't even let me try.” Wald mused. Shay gave him a slightly incredulous look while Terrentius gave him a fully incredulous one.

“I seen 'im do it, he had to drop the gear onto the belly to get into the hangar.” The memory put a smile on my lips. “The dockworkers on that outpost all but tried to kill us.” I started to laugh.

“Would it be possible to procure wessel, specifically for race?” Shay piped up suddenly.

“Oh yeah, easy-peasy.” Waldo answered. “Why, though? I'd rather watch from The Highwayman than loose in some bucket.” Waldo spoke somewhere on the edge of dismissively.

“For the Iovianus'.” She replied. There was a silent pause.

“No, we couldn't ask-” Waldo cut off Terrentius.

“Of course, Shay you're a genius!” B. turned to the stunned Imperial. “And the pair of you need some practice with a ship before you hit the academy anyway.” My Old Friend's enthusiasm was palpable.

Mr. Iovianus almost hid it when he wiped the tear from his eye. Having found everything as in order as it could be, I shut down the Eagle and gestured for us to leave. I wasn't hesitant to stop being around that ship.

The race was about two weeks away, and on some dirty ice ball about thirteen light years from Shinrarta Dezhra. Reggie had caught wind of the need for a pit crew and was bored as hell, so he jumped on the opportunity to help rip the guns off. I met him back in the garage with the Eagle the next day.

“Weight savings, good man.” He called from where he was straddling the opening to the dorsal hardpoint.

“You ever pit-crewed before?” I shouted from the decking below.

“A couple times, in Sidey-league stuff.” A large and important-looking section of wiring harness was thrown down to the docking pad, landing next to me. “This looks to be the first time I get to try my hands in a big-game.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Yer Captain B. Wald's personal technician Reg, you know you're taking a vacation from a bigger game to do this, right?” My bemused words were met with a loud thunk and Reggie yelping.

“Is that what you think I am?” He was holding his goggles up and leaning over the side of the ship to look at me.

“You ain't?” He set his jaw at an odd angle to show his confusion, it matched my own.

“Not really.” He dropped his lenses and sat more comfortably on the hardpoint's open hatch. “I'm his... Apprentice?” He shrugged.

“Does he let you touch yer tools to The Highwayman?” I asked, I was sure of the answer though.

“Sometimes.” Reg answered with a shaky pride, he downplayed himself.

“You ain't just an apprentice Reg.” I told him, he smiled.

Reggie leaned over and wrenched on something before grabbing a chain hanging from the ceiling and dropping from the vessel. The chain was run through several pulleys on the ceiling to compound his weight, and lift the railgun out of its cradle. Once on the deck, Reggie grabbed a guide wire with his other hand and pulled the weapon along the ceiling to clear the ship from underneath it, he began to slowly let it down.

“Drop it.” I said suddenly, letting the venom flood my tone. He gave me his jutted-jaw look of confusion again.

“Someone blew an assload of sweat and credits on that accelerator.” Reg wasn't wrong.

“Yeah.” I drew out the word vindictively. Reg tugged on the chain to lift the railgun slightly before turning to me.

“Who owns this Eagle?” The technicians question was well aimed.

“Some bitch.” I spat the answer.

“She dump you?” Reg was slightly accusatory, but more curious.

“I had to run.” This was how I explained too many things.

The accelerator came crashing to the deck, the conductive polymer rails shattering and the platinum filament unraveling from within them.

“Then let's see how much scrap we can pull from her, eh?” Reg patted my shoulder and began to climb into one of the ventral hardpoints.

That evening when I returned to Vincent, Quintina was pacing between Wald's and my own docking pads, she looked frustrated.

“Erry-thing okay?” I asked her.

She looked up at me for a moment, before pulling a pair of headphones out of her ears and apologizing.

“What'r ya up ta?” I asked again.

“Oh, just trying not to get fat.” She explained, in her mind effectively.

“Does being pissed off make ya thin?” I joked, she smiled.

“I'm trying to jog, but out here I can't really do much more than pace. I haven't spent this long in low gravity before, I can feel how many calories I'm not burning.” I got the impression she was transferring her attention to a manageable worry, I figured I should try and help.

“Shay's got some exercise equipment, she might let ya use.” I used my thumb to point over my shoulder at Vincent.

“Do... Would she?” Quintina seemed very slightly torn, I nodded and lead her to the aft hatch.

We walked in through the hatchway and towards the one leading portside into Shay's room. I knocked on the door. It slid open revealing the Massive Mercenary wearing an oversized plain shirt with a worn logo for some firm on the front of it, and nothing else.

“Yes?” She asked, showing a little surprise to see Quintina there.

“Would it be okay ta borrow one o' your...” I suddenly realized I had no idea what the pair of handles lashed to each-other with springs, were called. I pantomimed using one. “Uh, exercise thingies?”

“You have suddenly decided to concern yourself with fitness?” She chuckled as she fished one out of her duffel-bag.

“Hell-naw, Quintina wanted to use it.” I gestured to the girl when Shay tried to hand the thing to me.

“Th-thank you.” The Imperial said meekly as she took it.

“Do not mention it.” Shay turned to the door control for a moment then added. “You may need to remove some of the springs to reduce the draw.” With that Shay closed the door.

I noticed Quintina was blushing as I moved to direct her back through the aft hatch. She was staring blankly at the device in her hands too.

“She only looks intimidating, ya know. Ya ain't gotta be scared o' her.” I tried to explain. Quintina gave me a very strange look.

“You...? No. Does Shay usually not wear pants?” The girls blush faded quickly. I suddenly realized I had misinterpreted her manner.

“Oh! Uhh... Just when she's-” At home. “On downtime. Itchy legs.”I tried to explain.

“Hm.” Quintina took this information in pensively. “Mecastor!” She changed tone and swore.

“You okay?” I turned around, the girl had a frustrated expression on her face and was struggling with Shay's exercise tool.

“I can't stretch this at all, it's solid. Mehercle, I can't even get the springs off!” She handed it to me, defeated.

I also couldn't make the device admit it was meant to stretch, and by the looks of it one had to stretch it very slightly to remove any of the springs. Confounded, I rubbed the back of my neck and looked back at Shay's door. I made to head back towards her room when the Massive Mercenary suddenly stepped through the hatch, she had dressed properly.

“I have realized you may require more guidance with these than I have given.” She held up a duplicate of the exercise tool with one hand and gestured to the starboard room of the ship with her other. Quintina took the thing out of my hands and walked through the hatchway, Shay and I followed her.

“They are supposed for doing curls, but I have found them able for most exercises, with some creativity.” The Massive Mercenary explained as she pulled most of the springs out of Quintina's borrowed device. Shay handed it back to the expectant Imperial, dropped the springs onto the bench, and sat next to them.

“That's much better.” The girl uttered as she pulled on the handles and stretched the thing out in front of her. “You are very strong.” Quintina added, looking at the pile of springs.

“All is relative.” Shay answered as she hooked one side of the device under the toe of her boot and gripped the other side, with her elbow braced on her knee. She demonstrated a curl, the choir of springs made a chittering sound.

“Okay, doesn't look so hard.” Quintina sat next to her and tried to duplicate Shay's form.

“Other methods require more planning, and somewhere to affix one handle.” Shay taught as she added a standing-curl on every third rep.

Quintina slowed her reps as she watched Shay. Then she stopped doing curls and got off the bench, the Massive Mercenary watched her hook one handle to the corner of the bench and test it. Shay gave a little nod to the girl. Quintina bent her knees and gripped the handle with both her hands. She stood up and pulled the spring until her arms were completely vertical. She held it up there for a few seconds before slowly letting it down.

“Very good, you are quick to learn.” Shay complimented.

I was happy to see they were getting along, I was happy to see the Imperial girl not be reduced to tears again. I couldn't imagine being a Slave was a pleasant experience, so I hoped her newfound freedom was a step up for her. Quintina pulled her spring again and noticed me leaning beside the hatchway.

“Oh? You're watching us.” She said, her pull on the spring faltered very slightly.

“You needn't worry about Commander Revenant, Quintina.” Shay said as she noticed me as well. “He is only needlessly paranoid of people milling about his wessel.” That served as a functional explanation for my actions, I supposed. “He would like to think himself the one who must protect me from boarders.” Shay's joke got a laugh from Quintina. She got a small one from me too, but I thought she was in bad taste.

“Of course.” The girl said, unconvinced.

I tried to think of something to say, but the awkwardness stopped me. There was a long pause, silent but for the sound of springs and breathing.

“I never apologized for striking you, I'm sorry. I was in a bit of a state.” The girl said  Quietly to Shay.

“There is no need, you did not hurt me.” Shay responded. I wasn't there, but Shay had originally taken a bunk on Vincent to avoid Quintina. I hadn't assumed their altercation had been so animated.

“I didn't understand that it was only a job for you.” Quintina kept explaining.

“Is no matter. I am pleased now, to find your brother unaffected.” Before quite conveniently deciding her old boss was no longer worth her time, and entering the employ of my friend; Shay had almost killed Terrentius.

“Unharmed maybe.” The girl's melancholy words came out between reps.

“What do you mean?” Shay had stopped stretching her exercise thingy. Uncharacteristically, the Massive Mercenary did not mask her concern.

“He's... He's scared to death of you, Shay.” Quintina's face tightened like she was tasting something sour. “Don't tell him I said anything though. You either.” The last command was directed at me, over her shoulder, angrily.

“Oh, I see.” Shay began doing reps again, slightly faster.

“It's not really you, it's... Being stuck in the cryopod, I don't know.” Quintina tried to explain her brother's fears.

“No, is no issue. I am used to this.” Shay said dismissively. Quintina made a sad face.

It finally occurred to me to just excuse myself and leave, so I did. Vincent's hallway was a fair respite from the ringing in my ears sitting on on their conversation had caused. I sighed and looked at the hatchway into the cockpit for a moment before stepping inside. The real reason I avoided being alone on my ship was sitting in the empty co-pilot's chair.

“My boy finally found himself some tail.” The ghost of my father cackled at his shitty pun. I tried to ignore him as I sat in the pilot's seat. “They gon' let ya do more'n watch?”

“Shut up pops.” I muttered.

“Oh, y’all gettin' embarrassed talking with the ol' man 'bout fuckin'?” He sneered. “Then there's a little somethin' waitin' in yer comms panel we aughta be chattin' 'bout.”

“Oh Gott no.” Pops questioned my intentions to kill the man, he used his name. I just glared at the spectre.

“Oh come on now, erry' body you kill gotta name, they's all Humans.” He held his arms out to his sides.

“You weren't.” I spat in return.

“Yer girlfriend ain't.” His smirk was starting to look a little like a certain Inquisitor's.

“She-!” I nearly shouted. “She ain't my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, owen' ta ya being a wuss.” We rolled our eyes at each-other.

I tried to get some rest, sleep was elusive but at least I successfully ignored my haunt. I was committing to ignoring everything around me and at least pretending to sleep, too well in fact. Quintina all-but shouted, startling me.

“Commander Revenant?!” She had picked up my new alias from Shay, I suppose giving people my name would be easier, but I couldn't bear it any more.

“Yeah? Whas... Yeah?” I barely had to pretend to be groggy, I had been laying there for a few hours.

“Can I tell you a horrible secret?” Her workout had left her breathless and sweaty, she looked satisfied though.

“Do ya gotta?” She laughed, must have thought it was a joke.

“Do you know what a 'Barrista' is?” I admitted that I had no idea. “It doesn't matter, I desperately fear my brother has risked everything for nothing.” She sat in the co-pilot's seat, banishing the sly poltergeist.

“Yall are doin' some real good. The Kumo Crew are bad news, takin' a swing at 'em is noble as shit.” I tried to comfort her, she looked like my words hurt.

“You aren't wrong, Commander. The Kumo Naules are very scary.” She looked from her hands into my eyes. “If your plan works and you get me a ship: I will drag my idiot brother as far out onto the rim as I can, we can be farmers for all I care.” She sniffed the air. “As long as he's safe.”

“If... But...” I tried my best to think about her words, I tried not to be relieved by them. “After this race, all you gotta do is pass the exams. They ain't real hard.” I reassured her. Quintina stood up and leaned on the side of the pilot's chair.

“Thank you, I hope I'm not doing so too soon.” She whispered and pecked her lips against the side of my visor. Then the girl walked out of the cockpit.

I always thought that doing the right thing was supposed to make sleeping easier, maybe the people who say that didn't go and do the wrong thing so damn hard first. Maybe they just drank less coffee than me. Or maybe they meant: go and do the right thing without doing the wrong thing too, somehow. I ain't know none o' that, I's just a Gottdamn pilot.

By my subjective morning Shay's de-synced circadian rhythm was suggesting dinner. We were both prone to bouts of insomnia, and had on more than one occasion had found that neither of us could name the hour without checking some device.

“Are you hungry?” She asked me, leaning into the cockpit.

“Not really, but I'd go with you, if ya want.” Everywhere served coffee if you wanted to pay them, you would just overpay. It might stand a chance of being an okay cup though.

“We will also have alcohol.” The Massive Mercenary spoke as enticingly as she could, failing to hold a note. She was wasting breath, I'd assumed as much and was already sold. I stood up and Shay grinned.

We found a nice looking restaurant built out the side of the head of the starport, well it was inside a large commercial building that was. Bless him, the maitre d' barely lifted his eyebrows when a scruffy space-trucker and all eight feet of Shay waltzed into his foyer.

“Table for two?” He asked us.

“Y'all got any booths, maybe a window?” I asked him.

“We have a window booth near the kitchen, but I don't like to sit people there. The waitstaff will be running through constantly.” He explained, I looked to Shay who smiled and sniffed the air wafting through the eatery.

“This is fine.” She waved her hand towards the dining room, the Maitre d' smiled.

The booth had a fairly nice view out into the black, I watched for the view to show anything closeby but was treated to a serene drifting starfield instead, I wasn't complaining. He forgot to mention our booth was only a few steps away from the bar as well. Shay couldn't decide between a couple of the things on the menu.

“They should not include these pictures.” She lamented, her eyes darting across the page.

“Order 'em both.” I suggested glancing across my own menu, I was considering ordering just an appetizer. It took me a moment to take notice of Shay's silence, she was staring at me.

“Where have you been my whole life...” She muttered, looking back at her menu with new eyes.

“Pardon?” She shook her head at me, or possibly herself.

“This has always been option for me, yet until just now...” She gave me a piercing look, then softened her expression and chuckled. She put down her menu.

Shay ended up ordering two different three course meals, served simultaneously. The waiter had been embarrassed when I called him back and ordered too, he'd assumed Shay's order was for us both. I asked for an appetizer made from shellfish and cheese. They served my order on a specially molded ceramic dish that was piping hot. While I waited for it to cool, I noticed Shay was staring at her two bowls of soup with an odd expression.

“Change yer mind?” I asked.

“Would it be uncouth to drink from bowl?” Shay sounded worried, more than anything worrying had made her sound.

I looked at the Massive Mercenary for a moment, mulling over her question, and why she was asking it. I remembered that weird mushroom soup they drink on Futen spaceport, from back in the smuggling days.

“If ya hold the bowl with both yer hands, wrists together.” Shay raised an eyebrow at me. “It's proper 'round Fujin.” I insisted.

“Better than slurping.” She muttered as she tried it. Holding her bowl in front of her lips, she gave an approving shrug.

My food hadn't cooled enough to touch before Shay had finished her first courses, she stacked the bowls and patiently sat. I waved my hand over the little dish and caught sight of our waiter. He made eye contact with me and had a stressed expression. It occurred to me that his protocols were constructed under the assumption that his patrons finished their courses around the same time, and ordered a similar number of them. I reached for my water glass and held it up from the table slightly, his face calmed and he rushed over.

“Anything else? I can take these now Ma'am.” He swiftly cleared Shay's side of the table.

“Some coffee please, an' y'all can keep going with dinner.” I gestured at my plate. “This'll be all fer me.” He looked quite relieved.

“You do not strike me for connoisseur.” Shay smiled and said, after the waiter left.

“What d'you mean?” Her pronunciation of the word was strange, like she had only read it before.

“I would have expected you to be less... At home, in place such as this.” She gestured around.

“I guess I'm just having a nostalgic moment's all. Landy used to love draggin' my 'hick-ass' to shiny places like this, I got used to it.” I held my hand near my appetizer, still too hot. “Food's usually pretty good though.”

I looked up and Shay was giving me a startlingly piercing look. If her ears weren't flat I'd have thought she was angry. The waiter interrupted us with a cup of coffee and a pair of entrees, Shay's glare vanished as she thanked him and took the plates. She was about to combine the two entrees onto the larger platter, when she stopped and looked from one to the other. She changed her mind, set the smaller plate aside, and began eating from the larger one first. I finally tried one of the little shellfish balls, they were quite tasty. Salty as all hell though, the seafood paired well with the bite of the house blend.

“Who is Landy?” Shay asked suddenly during a pause between her entrees.

“Oh, uh... She's doin' us this favour.” I muttered. Shay began to eat again, she looked like she was savoring her second dish more.

“You continue to surprise.” She said between bites of food.

“I don't follow ya, what'd I do?” She considered my question for a moment while she chewed.

“Have a girlfriend.” She quipped finally.

“It was... More complicated than that.” I stared at the morsel I had speared on the tiny fork they gave me.

“It is always as complicated as that, I have found.” The Massive Mercenary patted the side of her torso to punctuate her point. Shay suddenly had a moment of realization. “Damn, I have nearly forgotten again.”

“Forgot what?” She held up a pair of pill bottles to answer my question.

“One is for the pain, the other is for the healing.” She sighed as she threw one of each into her mouth.

“How ya holdin' up?” Shay hesitated with a stony face for a moment, before shuddering and answering me.

“Ugh. These pills taste awful, I am healing well.” She took her glass of water and drained it.

“Thank Gott, you had me worried fer a bit.” She waved her hand at me.

“We are off subject, Landy.” Shay pointed at me then picked her fork back up. “Tell me about her, and you.”

“Ain't a lot to tell.” I lied. “She had me fly her Python before she got me into the Pilots Federation” Then I left out the rest of the story too.

“Where does Eagle come from?” I had trouble swallowing the bit of food in my mouth, the Massive Mercenary could aim a question as well as she could aim a gun.

“She had me fly that too.” Shay gave a tiny nod to herself.

“In combat?” My agreement was superfluous. “Your teeth were cut well.”

“I don't know if I'd go an' put it that way, Shay.” She smiled and waved her hand at me again.

“It is time for drinks.” She announced as she finished her last bite and stood up.

She marched the few meters over to the bar and sat down. Before I followed, I caught our waiter and told him Shay would take her desserts staggered and at the bar. When I sat down there was a shot glass waiting for me filled with Indi Bourbon, I could smell it.

“You are behind.” Shay pointed at my shot as she poured herself a second one and downed it. I drank mine and she poured me another.

“We celebratin'?” I took the second shot, but drank it more slowly.

“No, just the opposite.” Shay's shoulders drooped a little. “I have squeezed a secret from you tonight. You may have one in return.”

“Ya gonna let me pick one?” I joked.

“No.” Shay held her deadpan for a moment, before a somber little smile spread across her lips. “I am very disappointed.” She let out with a sigh.

“In who?” Something in her tone let me know not to ask 'in what?'.

“Terrentius.” She punctuated her declaration with a shot of liquor. “Or myself.” She dit it again. “I am not sure.” Shay was sporting the faintest whistle when she said 'sure'.

“Oh, he'll get over himself.” I said dismissively.

“That is not how this works, I am upset because I had some... Expectations, that will not likely be met, anymore.” Shay had put down her glass and crossed her arms.

“What d'you mean, Shay?” She turned to me, a pouting expression on her face.

“Quintina's brother is adorable.” The Moreau lamented. Then she grimaced and took another shot.

“That ain't a very big secret.” My attempt to console her faltered as I was also trying not to laugh. Shay replied to my choice of words with with an incredulous look.

“You like him too?” Now it was Shay's turn to stifle laughter.

“Naw, I mean... This ain't a big deal. I mean it's shitty, I sympathize, but it ain't no big deal...” I'm fairly certain my words did nothing to console my friend, but she was very amused by my awkwardness. Either way Shay had a smile on her face.

“In this case, I shall have to share another, small secret.” She took another shot. “Your Maybe-Friend was a more fun fight, than he was a fuck.” The Massive Mercenary sure knew her way around dark humor, I doubt anyone else could have gotten me to laugh with a joke like that.

“What a coincidence, We wouldn't have expected to find either of you two here.”  Eloise Guy-Faustine scornfully said through a thin veneer politeness, as she sat down next to Shay at the bar.

Startled, the Massive Mercenary stood up and wheeled around.

“What are you doing here?!” Shay barked the question as she undid the latch on her holster.

“Getting a drink.” Eloise giggled her answer. “I like this restaurant, you would need to be the one to start anything tonight, dear.” She added amicably as she casually waved the bartender over.

Squinting at her, Shay sat back down and carefully rested her wrist on the back of her holstered firearm's handle. She nursed her last shot for the rest of the evening. Eloise ordered a very plain looking cocktail, it had one of those big pickled beans on a stick in it.

“Besides.” Eloise said into her drink. “Destruction would be mutual.” The Inquisitor slipped her firearm out of the purse in her lap and thumped it onto the bar.

“What is this?” Shay asked, her tone shifting quickly to honest curiosity.

“This is an Assisted-Armour Rotary, the most powerful conventional weapon ever made.” Eloise smiled into her cocktail, like a proud parent.

“No, it is not.” Shay declared knowingly.

“The engraving says as much, or can't you read Monstrum?” The Inquisitor snorted.

“I read 'Manticore Ayy-Ayy-Are Kay' This is a commemorative reproduction, untrue to original.” Shay smirked at Eloise whose face was turning red.

“Manticore Assisted Armour Rotary. Are you playing at being stupid?” Eloise spoke through her teeth.

“'Kurz', the Kay stands for 'Kurz'.” Shay explained. “This means shortened. Also Ayy-Ayy-Are was not manufactured by Manticore.” The Massive Mercenary unholstered her own pistol and placed it carefully next to it's little brother on the bar. “Wilson and Smithers manufactured it. Until Thirty-Sixty-Nine, when Manticore bought them out.” The Massive Mercenary's history lesson was given scoldingly.

“Tell Us; do you still have your tail, or did they clip it off?” The Smiling Inquisitor slowly sipped her drink, making a bubbly little noise. Her visible anger had melted away while Shay was explaining.

“If they tried, they would lose more.” The Massive Mercenary leaned close to Eloise as she answered, and she pulled her firearm off the bar.

Slowly, Shay sat straight again and slid her weapon into it's holster. She left it unclasped and never broke eye contact with the Inquisitor.

“We understand this doubles your worth.” Eloise didn't flinch, but I did. Shay nearly struck her.

A tiny but sudden shift in weight, the clenching of a fist. The Massive Mercenary caught herself at the last moment. Hesitantly, Shay took her weight back off of her leg, and sat back on the barstool. Eloise just smiled.

“Why are you here, Inquisitor?” The Massive Mercenary asked slowly.

“Your brain must not be to size, We've already told you.” Eloise held up the thin stemmed glass.

“Playing stupid suits you well.” They narrowed their eyes at each-other.

“I am going to arrest all of you, kill you if I can.” Eloise emptied her glass, nimbly catching the garnish in place with the tip of her finger. “When you least expect it I am going to topple whatever operation you idiots are running. We care not what it is.” Her voice went guttural until the last sentence, where she returned to her serenity.

“You, will try.” Shay corrected. There was a tense silence that lasted until Eloise ordered a second drink.

“You are endearing yourself, Monstrum. Quite perturbing.” The Smiling Inquisitor was speaking amicably again.

“You are not, Imperator” Shay surprised me with her slight, the military title was rarely used anymore, and I hadn't realized Shay's command of the Imperial Tongue would have her grasp the insult in referring to the Inquisitor as just some Commandant.

“Have you told your new companions where you come from, Monstrum?” Eloise was smelling her second cocktail.

“Stop talking.” The Massive Mercenary turned very slightly away from Eloise after she muttered the command, maybe to shoot a glance my way, I'm not sure. It was only a fleeting reflex as Shay was keeping her eyes on the Smiling Inquisitor.

“Ask her who Massey and Caine are, Commander.” The Inquisitor leaned back from her stool to speak around Shay to me. Then she laughed as she reset her posture.

“We are leaving.” Shay stood up and lifted me slightly by my shoulder. As I stood up properly to follow her, I noticed the hair on the back of the Massive Mercenary's neck was on end.

I lagged a little behind Shay so I could find the Maitre d' and pay our bill, when questioned about the desserts I said to give one to our waiter and told him to have the other, as my thanks. I sprinted out of the restaurant to find Shay. She was on the opposite side of the lane leaning against the wall of an alley. She had her arms pinned against the wall with her head, her shoulders were bobbing up and down occasionally.

“Shay it's okay ya don't-” I had almost told her to stop crying when I got close enough to hear, she wasn't sobbing. Shay was failing to calm her breathing.

“Cunt Bastards!” She suddenly shouted and reeled back.

The Massive Mercenary let out a snarl as she put her knuckles almost two centimeters into the plating that made up the wall. Then she pulled back her fist and did it again, this time a little red spray shot out from between her fingers. Shay pulled her arm back for a third swing, her little finger was hanging loose.

“No Shay!” I called and grabbed her arm. I was pulled backwards off my feet and thrown to the opposite wall of the alley. My head bounced.

“C-commander?” Shay said shakily, I looked up at her and blinked several times to clear my vision.

Her arm was still cocked back for the punch, her hand was still clenched into a fist, but she was looking over her shoulder at me. She was blinking a lot as well.

“Ya broke yer finger.” I tried to stand, but fell back down. “St-stop punchin' the wall.” I added from the ground.

“Commander?!” She said again, more urgently.

“Yer calmed down now it's okay, s'okay.” I slurred.

“No-no-no-no.” She picked me up off the ground, and started to run out of the alley. I was confused until I saw from over her shoulder the large lowercase letter 'i' painted in my blood on the wall.

I didn't feel like I went out at the medbay, but there were gaps. This surgeon was a lot less presumptuous, she just gave me a lot of shit for not wearing my helmet. The stuff they injected to promote the bone healing made my scalp itch. It took the better part of two days for them to let me walk out. I left the medbay and started to make my way back to the docking ring.

“Shay?” I called into Vincent when I arrived, there was no answer.

Her room was empty, looked unused. I stepped back and looked around, Vincent was empty. I opened the hatch to our impromptu storage room and grabbed a packet of tri-white tri-sweet. I noticed that one of Shay's cannisters was left open. She was usually very fastidious about keeping her luggage packed. A shrink wrapped case of cheap gin was torn open inside, half of the dozen bottles were missing. I closed the lid of Shay's cannister, then closed the hatch to the closet. I grimmaced as I drained the packet and wondered where my friend was. I left my ship and walked across the pad to The Highwayman next door. I would never get used to walking on the velvet strip Waldo draped his egress ramp with.

“Hey, haven't seen you in a few days, what's up?” Waldo asked casually as I entered his ship.

“You seen Shay?” I tried not to sound overly concerned.

“Nope.” My Old Friend answered amicably.

“Well, if ya do. Tell her...” I stammered. Waldo suddenly turned away from his console, a pixelated pause menu displayed onscreen.

“Is everyth- Why are you wearing a hospital bracelet?” He stood up in surprise when he saw it.

“Oh... Uhm...” I looked at my wrist and the little yellow strip of plastic wrapped around it.

“What happened?” Wald's eyes darted around for a second. “Is Shay okay?”

“We had a little accident, nobody got hurt or nothing. Just some scrapes.” I waved my hand a little to downplay it. “I think Shay's a little shook up 'bout it. I lost track of her.” My Old Friend gave me a most curious look.

“What?” B. looked lost, I'd never seen that before.

“Uhh... We got drunk.” I waved my hand again. “Got a little... Carried away...?” Waldo stifled a laugh.

“You think you know a guy.” He shrugged. “Right. If I see her, I'll let her know you're looking for her.” He copied my hand waving back at me.

Derek was waiting for me outside Wald's cockpit. He was leaning against the starboard wall of the corridor.

“Shay's in the bay with your Eagle.” He said. “What happened?”

“We got a bit too drunk.” I explained.

“What else?” I looked at the mercenary pilot. “She weren't ranting about being too drunk.”

“We met Eloise again.” I said quietly.

“Fuck that bitch.” Derek made a gesture I have to assume was rude. ”Fucking cops, you'd think she'd have less time for us and more time for something that matters.”

“I don't think she's got justice in mind.” Now Derek was giving me a look. “That bar, when we showed up, weren't the first time I'd seen her.”

“Holy shit?” Derek combined his exclamation and his question quite beautifully.

“I think the word's Vendetta.” I tried to explain, it was like describing how a Neutron Star sounds.

“What you do to her?” Derek's question was tempered with joviality.

“I ain't know that.” I left out any of the guesses I had. “I gotta go talk with Shay.”

I sprinted around the docking ring to get to pad twenty eight, then took the stairs down to the garage two or three at a time. I guess I got lucky, I doubt I could take a flight of stairs like that if I tried again. The hatchway into the garage was open and a couple of empty bottles were rolling around the pad.

“Shay?!” I called into the garage as I entered.

I heard a sharp inhalation of breath to my left. I was still sprinting through the doorway so I slid to a halt and turned around, almost losing balance. The Massive Mercenary had been sitting in a heap just inside the hatch, surrounded by her graveyard of consumed gin. She was trying to stand, and not doing a very good job.

“C-Commander Revenant. I'm sor-.” She hiccuped and slid down the wall a little. “I will finish packing my things from wessel. I-I have become s-sidetracked.” Shay grabbed at the wall and pulled herself standing, swaying heavily, but standing.

“Sidetracked? It's been nearly two days?” Both of us did a glancing estimate of the empties.

“Has it?” The Massive Mercenary asked herself quietly.

“Did you say packing?” A shot of adrenaline, I stepped closer to her. “Why are ya packin' up?”

Shay gaped at me for a few seconds, she opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“But-but... I...” Her eyes were watering.

“Accidents happen, I'm fine. Lemme see yer hand.” I spoke a little sternly and reached down for her injured appendage.

She had set her pinky herself, lashed it to her ring finger with electricians tape. Her knuckles were still skinned, and this close I could see the striations running down the back of her hand from years of it.

“Gottdamn Shay, this the best way you got?” I spoke more to her fingers than her.

“No.” She answered truthfully. I also knew those better ways, better was relative.

“Too many more of those, and this hand won't be good for much else anymore.” I pressed her palm between both of mine like some disproportionate sandwich. She pulled it away.

“It already is.” She looked away from me and crossed her arms, usually her fingers were on the outside when she did that.

“Yer a crappy liar, Shay.” I glanced at the Eagle, waiting for me. I gestured back towards the stairwell to the surface. “Let's go home.” She looked back to me and her arms fell to her sides.

“Are you certain... That I may?” She hid her uncertainties from everyone else. I appreciated her honesty with me, but confidence is what suited Shay.

“Never been more certain 'bout anything else. There's only one thing I want you to do fer me.” I was lying, I was going to ask for her.

“Anything, Commander.” She stood up straight, and shook some sobriety into her head.

“Tell me who those Cunt Bastards, Casey and Maine are?” She looked through me for a moment.

“Caine-Massey are biotechnology firm. Are subsidized clandestinely by Federation military.” The Moreau's words were being carefully metered, and served through gritted teeth.

“Oh.” I figured it out. I didn't like my parents either.

“I believe they have failed as business since then.” Shay snorted. “Small justices.” Obscurity and failure may have saved several lives, by the sound of her tone.

“The thing 'bout apples and trees, Shay. Is that 'far' and 'close' stop meaning shit out here in The Black.” That was good advice, Gott I wish it were for me.

“I am not sure if I-” I cut her off.

“Fruit grows in shit. That don't make berries taste bad, do it?” I tried again, this time Shay's eyes lit up.

“No... No it does not.” Suddenly the Trans-Human hugged me, a little too tightly.

My spine made a very disconcerting crackling sound. Shay reactively let go of me and gave me a horrified look. Then a very confused one when she saw my expression. I had been trying to get my back to do that with futile stretches every morning for about a month.

“Did that... Hurt?” My face told her it didn't, but she had to ask anyway.

“It did, until you did that.” I said with relief shading my voice. “If you know what you just did, ya could probably do it for a livin'.” I added jokingly.

“If only.” Shay ran her hands down her face a few times, and took a few deep breaths. “We should return to your wessel, I apparently have not slept in two days.” She kicked one of the gin bottles out of her way and headed for the stairs, leaning against everything she passed to steady herself.

The walk back to Vincent would have taken less time if Shay was able to do so more directly. At least she didn't fall over; I never would have been able to help her back up, low gravity or not. Shay followed me into the cockpit rather than going to her room. She grabbed a fresh Kamitra from her little box of them in storage as we passed. I dropped myself into the pilot's chair, and Shay did the same with the co-pilot's. I heard her light the cigar. I shook my head a little as the craving for nicotine kicked in.

“Mind if I take a puff offa that?” I asked over my shoulder.

I had accidentally all-but given up smoking when my pipe was smashed. If anyone happened to ask for my advice on the matter; it turns out a traumatic planet-fall combined with simple lack of access for a few days was a great way to quit.

“Oh yes... Erm, you may finish it.” Shay muttered and handed me the stub end of her stogie, it was going out. The cockpit started to fill with smoke as she exhaled. I chuckled as I puffed a little more smoke out of the dying thing.

“Oh fuck- Hey, hi!” Waldo stepped through the hatch into the cockpit after it automatically opened when he tried to knock on it, Derek was following him with a grin on his tattooed face.

“Captain Wald.” Shay said as she stood up, she was only swaying slightly.

“Oh hi Shay.” B. waved across the tiny distance to the Massive Mercenary, then jammed his thumb in my direction. “Woundo's looking for you.”

“Er, yes. Thanks you.” She held the back of the co-pilot's chair. “I must confess I am slightly out-of-sorts for body-guarding, at moment.” Shay's whistling when drunk was loud in the confined space of the cockpit.

“Well, then it's good we're just hanging out then.” Waldo lightly gestured for her to sit back down, then he leaned against the powered down console.

“Good, good. Thanks.” Shay dropped back into the seat, and kicked her boots off.

“Per-fect.” Derek said slowly from the back of the cockpit.

I looked over my shoulder at him, the mercenary pilot had jammed himself into the open hatchway with his legs. He was 'sitting' braced by his own weight and the grip of his shoes, he looked quite proud of himself.

“Is this a party?” He asked us all as he pulled a little metal box out of his breast pocket.

“I'm down, you guys?” Waldo asked.

“Onionhead? Yeah, no thanks. I'll be okay, but y'all enjoy yourselves.” I smiled a little and shook my head.

“I hear this is good for sleeping?” Shay surprised me by asking Derek.

“This is just Tanmark bush-weed. It won't hurt your sleep, but it's no Panem Kush.” Derek explained as he rolled a funnel-shaped smoke in the little tin in his lap.

“It's pretty good for joint pain too, eh.” Waldo added in my direction.

Derek lit it up and passed it to Waldo, he inhaled deeply from it and tried to hand it to me.

“Thanks, but I'm gonna decline. I prefer my painkillers fermented.” I joked, leaving out how little I was interested in seeing the world through an even more slanted lens.

“Thank you.” Shay said as she took the smoke hesitantly from Waldo.

“You're supposed to hold it in a little, yeah like that.” Derek casually instructed. Shay inhaled then returned the joint to him.

“I'm kinda excited, for the race.” Waldo confessed. “I've only ever seen Woundo here fly from a distance. What's it like from in his cockpit, Shay?”

“Well...” She exhaled a cloud of narcotic smoke as she considered the question. “His flying is, strong.”

“What's the plan for getting the Iovianus' a ship?” I asked, to shift the subject a little.

“Oh I'm taking them to a dealership next week, I know a guy who can get me a nice deal for them.” Waldo answered.

“Which is easier to learn; spaceship flying, or sword fighting?” Shay mused out of nowhere.

“Flying.” I answered.

“Swords.” My friend gave his answer alongside mine.

Waldo and I looked at each-other for a moment, Derek laughed.

“Did you want to learn?” B. turned to Shay.

“I do not have mind for...” Shay made a complicated gesture. “All of the... Directions...” She stifled an errant giggle. “For flying.”

“What about swords? I could teach you.” My Old Friend added as he took the smoke from Derek again.

“Would you?” Shay's eyes glazed over a little.

“Yeah, we can start your training in the morning.” He answered while trying to hold in the smoke.

“Then I must rest immediately.” Shay announced as she stood up.

The Massive Mercenary almost sprinted to the aft doorway from the cockpit. She didn't give Derek time to move, just grabbed him and lifted him out of the hatch-frame where he had wedged himself. She turned around with the pilot in her arms and stepped backwards through the hatchway so she could put him back where he was, just rotated one hundred and eighty degrees. Then she scampered off to bed. Derek did everything in his power not to burst out laughing at this display, but he failed. Waldo moved over and sat down in the co-pilot's chair.

“You know... Bah.” Derek trailed off, shaking his head at himself.

“What's on yer mind?” I encouraged him, Waldo leaned in expectantly.

“This is the least 'Just A' Job I've ever taken.” The mercenary pilot announced as he started to roll a second smoke.

“I hear that!” I broke into laughter, Waldo joined in too and suddenly we were all cracking up. “Oh shit! We should shut up, the walls are thin.” I suddenly caught myself, blushing.

“Ooh yeah... Actually, we should smoke that on my ship, I have a lesson to prepare.” Captain Wald sounded gleeful. He stood up and gestured for me to follow.

“If it's all the same, Waldo. I'm gonna try and catch some sleep too.” I yawned, probably wasn't awake all that long, but I was tired.

“No problem. See you two tomorrow.” He nodded to Derek who got down from the hatchway.

“Good-Night, Commander.” He said as they left. The hatch made an exasperated sound as it was finally allowed to close.

“Smokin' Bulbs now?” Pops accused from the Co-pilot's seat, now that it was vacant.

“You know ya don't smoke the bulbs pops, ya smoke the flowers.” I chuckled at him. “And I didn't smoke none of it neither.”

“Them degenerates hot-boxed yer damn ship, you done smoked some anyway!” He pointed a finger at me. I noticed under his arm, Waldo had left the greasy stub end of the first smoke on the armrest.

“You know what, pops...” I grabbed it, my poltergeist looked worried.

It had gone out, I reached into the pouch where the remaining few splinters of my pipe were. I had done my best to clean out the wood debris, thrown away the stale tobacco. I kept my matches though. I slipped one out and dragged it along the underside of the console to light it.

“Befittin' of a degenerate.” The ghost quipped, I just took the last couple of puffs off the rag-end. “Don't go forgettin' who you are now.”

I burst out laughing, then caught myself. I sniggered as quietly as I could for a few minutes while pops gave me the angriest little glare.

“First an' foremost; Y'all ain't never met who I am, ya gone an' died first. Moreover I ain't got no Gottdamn clue, so how could I forget?” I fought the laughter for another moment. “Now shut the fuck up, I'm goin' ta sleep.”

The morning came rather suddenly, I'd slept quite well. I sat in the cockpit blinking and yawning for a little while, enjoying the feeling. Shay walked in and handed me a coffee packet, She had a large bottle of water in each hand.

“If that is 'Good' for sleeping, I worry what Derek would consider 'Bad'.” She announced as she opened one of the bottles.

“Restless?” I slowly put the straw into the packet.

“Nightmares.” Shay answered as she held the bottle to her lips and squashed it in her hand to empty it.

“I'm sorry to hear that, I slept fine.” I said as I sipped the coffee. “You feelin' up to swordfightin' Wald?” The Massive Mercenary spilled some her her second bottle of water as she opened it, her face showing surprise.

“P-pardon?” I knew a thing or two about combining sleep deprivation, and alcohol. I assume Onionhead wasn't going to help the swiss-cheese-memory.

“Your lesson.” I explained, for a moment she looked at me lost. Then recognition hit her like a blow to the skull.

“Oh-oh goodness.” She sounded relieved, for a moment. “Oh goodness! I have kept him waiting!” She stood up suddenly and darted out into the hallway, she was ducking back into her room before the cockpit hatch sealed. I could hear frantic activity through the bulkheads.

“Boots?! I've lost my boots!” She burst back in, I pointed to where she had tossed them last night. “Oh! Thank you Commander Revenant.” She sat down and started manhandling her feet into them.

“I think you may be overreactin' a bit.” I let her know. “Waldo ain't a stickler for timeliness.” She looked at me and sighed.

“You are probably correct. Nonetheless, I feel haste would be best.” She finished tying her laces and stood up. “Come along.” She urged and began to march out of the ship.

It hadn't occurred to me to join her, and it hadn't occurred to Shay that I wouldn't. Waldo opened the aft hatch of The Highwayman wearing only his boots and pants.

“Everyone else is asleep so we have to be quiet.” He gestured for us to follow him inside.

He led us through a door on the starboard side into a tiny museum. The walls were covered in rare weapons. Most of them were more valuable as art, than for killing. Potentially real wood paneling, and burgundy patterned wallpapering. Last time I'd been inside this room was almost a decade ago towards the end of our smuggling days, there had been a couple of nice chairs and a little holographic fireplace but not much else. Waldo had been busy. My friend reached up and pulled a ball-tipped and thin sword from low on the wall. It had a very slight curve to its edgeless blade, and a knot of metal strips for a hand-guard.

“We should start with the basics of stances.” He said as he drew the blade up and held it horizontally at eye level, his off hand behind his back. He slid his feet around to reverse his stance, he twisted his elbow to point the sword in that direction as well. Then he looked at the weapon in his hand for a moment, his stance melting. “Actually, first thing we should do is see if I even have something sized for you.”

Waldo dropped the sword and caught it by its point, then he hung it from his fingers next to Shay so the pommel brushed the floor. The tip in his fingers was level with her inseam. Waldo glanced down along the blade with a pensive look on his face. Then he glanced up at Shay for a moment before taking the sword and double checking it against himself. It reached a little higher than his belt. He rubbed his chin and pondered for a moment.

“I have a falchion that's about the right size, but It has a short counter-weighted grip.” Wald pointed at it on the wall. Shay shook her head dismissively at the unusual weapon.

“What 'bout that one?” I pointed to a thin and very long sword, barely curved.

It had a carefully wrapped more-than two-handed grip, with a very small and square cross-guard. It shared a place on a stand with two other swords, one was more of a large dagger and the middle one was somewhere between their lengths. All three in a matching style. The medium sized weapon from the set looked about the same length as Waldo's practice saber.

“Good eye, I have a less shiny No-Dachi if Shay wants. That set came from an auction in Fujin. They either come from Pre-Fusion Pre-Industrial Sol. Or I got scammed like a mother-fucker.” He laughed.

“Is there, no other one?” Shay asked a little dejected sounding.

“Too flimsy?” I asked, looking at the minutely thin blade.

“Too reminiscent, of Inquisitor's sword.” As soon as she said it, I could see it too. “Ooh.” The Massive Mercenary let out a small sound of excitement.

“Zweihander? Of course! Try it, Careful that one's sharp.” Waldo said as he saw what had caught her eye.

She took the sword from it's place on the wall and held it in her hands. The grip fit quite well in her palm. She hefted it and looked along the blade, supporting it with the tips of her fingers. Shay took a closer look at the cross-guard and pommel, they were shaped like a set of claws and wolf's head respectively.

“If I can get you using one without being a danger to yourself, she's yours.” Waldo announced.

“You needn't do this.” Shay said quietly.

“Yes I do.” She gave him a questioning look. “Shay, I ever tell you why I'm out here in The Black?”

“No, Captain Wald. You have not.” She carefully replaced the weapon on the wall.

“I'm from one of the most boring, stagnant places in the Milky-Way, Hutton Orbital. And I had the fortune to inherit a fairly large sum of credits while I was there. 'Set for life' they call that.” My Old Friend had given me a much shorter version of this story once, it had ended about there before. “One day, I'm throwing this party. A pal of mine and me are chatting. He tells me he doesn't think he's going to be going to my parties any more. 'Why?' I ask him. You know what he says to me?”

“No.” Shay shook her head and answered the rhetorical question, Waldo smiled a melancholy little smile.

“He said 'You make me feel like I have to act better around you.' Then he walked away.” Waldo stared at nothing for a fleeting moment. “That messed up my head a little, you see. I would have said the same about them, but it would have been a compliment... It was maybe a week later I bought some jalopy and started flying.”

My Old Friend shrugged and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Apparently, I make people want to be better. Being around people makes me want to be better. I've never quite figured out what the difference between the people who like it and hang around, and everyone else is; but I figure I should spread the love. You know?” Waldo held up his palms.

“Not really. But somehow, yes.” Shay replied after thinking for a moment.

“Good, whatever. Here try this one.” Wald handed Shay another sword from the wall, it was a slightly shorter and thinner version of the one that had caught her eye. It was plainer and unsharpened too.

“Hmm, this one is heavier.” Shay commented, surprised.

“That other one was made from a naturally-occurring solar-forged alloy, It's non magnetic too. This thing is just a trainer Spadone I ordered online.” Waldo explained.

“My gun is also made of such alloy.” Shay added, giving the less shiny sword in her hands another tentative swing.

Wald began by demonstrating and having Shay copy several stances, and transitions between them. All the while he was explaining that the method intended for using the sword in her hands was not compatible with her ability to hold it single-handedly, thus Waldo was teaching her 'The bastard lovechild of Epee and Iaido' whatever that meant.

“Right, I think we can start with some light sparring. I have never seen anyone pick this sort of thing up so quickly, Shay.” Waldo cracked his neck and turned to face her.

“Should y- we not wear some sort of protection?” Shay asked, looking at the length of steel in her hand.

“That's a fair point... Wait a minute, Shay do me a favour.” Waldo pointed upwards a little. “Can you touch the ceiling?”

To answer him the Massive Mercenary reached up with her off hand and slipped her fingertips across the grating.

“We need somewhere else.” Waldo announced. “Outside?”

Shay hesitated for a tiny moment, then marched into the hallway that led to the aft hatch. The trainer sword slung over her shoulder. Captain Wald made to follow her.

“Uhh, Waldo?” My friend turned to face me with a curious look on his face. “Some padding might not be a bad idea.” He wasn't even wearing his flightsuit.

“Oh yeah, yeah.” He agreed and turned to a dummy wearing a mesh face mask and a thick rubberized-polymer chest-plate.

Shay was thirty or so meters away, practicing the drills that she had just been shown, when B. and I exited The Highwayman. She looked like she had been wielding that blade for years. I mean, I could probably do the one or two saber drills they drilled into me in the Navy. Drills were easy, but Shay was really taking to it. Wald was right.

“Okay, I want to show you some basic riposting.” Wald announced as he assumed his stance a few feet away from Shay. I was sitting on the bottom of the velvet lined egress ramp. “Come at me.”

Shay held her off hand behind her back and her sword at a downward angle, the pommel and her right set of toes were pointing at B. Wald. Suddenly the blade was whirled around on her wrist and brought down at my friend. He slipped the tip of his rapier under her swing and twisted her blow sideways. As the strike was deflected towards the ground a few centimeters to his left, Wald tapped Shay's shoulder with the tip of his sword.

“Not bad, but you're telegraphing.” He said.

Shay slipped her grip around and put her off hand on the bottom of the handle. She heaved the blade in a wide arc from the ground on Wald's left to attempt a strike to his right. He stepped backwards out of her reach.

“Again with the teleg-” His words and his attempt for another tap to her shoulder were cut off when Shay continued to swing the blade for a second full circle and a second strike.

My Old Friend was forced to roll to his right to dodge the attack, Shay ricocheted her sword off the docking pad and caught it at arm's length to her side. Wald tapped her other shoulder with his rapier.

“Better.” He quipped. Shay stepped back and took a breath.

“Who taught you your technique?” She asked while she took a small break.

“Instructional Holos, practice, and luck.” B. answered.

“Really?” I asked him.

“Yeah.” He said casually.

“Ya just fought someone with a sword one day, no idea what you were doin'?” I had some trouble believing it.

“Well, I had a lot of book learning under my belt first, but more or less, yeah.” He shrugged.

“Shall we continue?” Shay had already taken one of the stances she had been taught, this one had her legs wide and the sword in both hands pointed horizontally behind her from the waist.

Waldo smiled and took up his stance again. Shay took a step forwards and lifted the blade above her head. Waldo moved to block, but Shay held the new posture for a moment and threw him off guard. Then she brought the blade down to tap him on his padded shoulder. Waldo dropped to his knee and spun his saber around to block her at the last moment, but her blade lightly met its mark. She pulled back and stood upright with her feet about a meter apart, the tip of the sword resting on the ground, her off hand hanging at her waist. Waldo sprung from the ground and thrust the tip of his blade towards her. Shay flicked her sword sideways and deflected the thrust, but Wald took the momentum and spun his sword around. Shay nearly failed to reverse her weapon and deflect. A tiny tap of his toes to the decking and Waldo danced backwards, his weapon spun in his hand at arm's length before slashing towards Shay's legs. She hopped over the blade and then had to scramble away to dodge a similar, but higher attack traveling in the opposite direction.

“Come on Shay, break through this.” Wald spoke as he swung his blade relentlessly.

Shay rolled out of the way of another slash, and came to her feet at Waldo's right, already swinging the sword. He had to duck under it, he responded with an upwards slash as he returned to his feet. The tip of his steel ran along her sternum.

“Damn!” Shay panted. “You are as if you have been greased.” She tossed a one handed thrust his way for him to sidestep. “Have you ever dodged bullet, Captain Wald?”

“More than a couple, usually figuratively.” He quipped and slipped beside another thrust.

“I wonder, has your slipperiness been rude awakening for any women? This could be cause of literal ones.” Shay's frustrated insult caused B. to burst out laughing.

“It might have, yea- Oh!” Distracted for a moment, Shay touched the tip of her sword to the red circle printed on the left breast of Waldo's padding.

“This counts?” Shay asked as she pulled her sword away and let her arms fall to her sides.

“Of course!” Waldo said, showing some pride. Shay pumped a fist with her off hand and muttered an affirmation.

“Perhaps this is enough sparring for today?” Shay asked. “Are you also getting fatigued?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah. Yeah I am. It's easy to get carried away when you're having fun.” Waldo stretched his shoulder a little, and removed the mesh visor to wipe his brow. “Again tomorrow morning?” He added.

“Of course.” Shay answered.

They decided to get some breakfast once Wald's equipment had been thrown back through The Highwayman's airlock. Reggie, after dodging the projectile sparring gear, offered to join them. I declined.

After wandering back to Vincent's pad I decided to climb on him. I hadn't crawled around on a ship since I first met The Flottvogn. I hooked the handle of my cane on his port stabilizer and pulled myself up, a feat made possible by the docking ring's minimal gravity. I stretched out across the wing and let my feet dangle over the leading edge. It was nice, I left my eyes closed and relaxed for a minute. As I cracked my lids I immediately saw a Commander leaning against the stairwell that led to the garage under docking pad twenty eight.

I wondered what the man was doing there, waiting impatiently for something by the look of it. He was wearing a red and white flightsuit. I thought I could make out some clustered patches or badges on it. He checked his P.A.D. then shook his head a little and looked across the deserted docking pad. He crossed his arms and leaned against the stairwell entrance again.

There were plenty of reasons for that to be happening, and only one or two of them might involve me. There were at least two other garages down there. Hell, I think this starport had six spots under a couple of the small pads. I decided that either way, I should look across the docking ring before the next time I check on the Eagle. I also decided to spend a little time elsewhere, maybe I should go get some breakfast.

The next three days were uneventful. Shay and Wald continued their sparring in the mornings, and our group was making a fair effort to try a meal from every restaurant on Jameson Memorial. The Red Commander had been showing up to wait for me each day. He would wait from the early hours until around lunchtime when he would vanish. Anything I needed to do in that garage was being done in the afternoon or later.

What needed to be done that evening was to bolt down the jump seat for Waldo to sit in. It was an easy task, Reggie let me borrow a wrench and an impact gun when I'd asked. Only took a few minutes. I sat on the floor and spent a few hours wondering how I was going to explain myself to my Old Friend. I brought a bottle of Indi I'd picked up a few days before. Eventually I decided I was done, and made my way back up the stairs.

“Hi there.” I'd lost track of time, it was morning. “Golf Oscar Romeo?”

“Y-yeah.” I muttered, he introduced himself and held out his hand.

“You're a tough man to get hold of.” I accepted the Red Commander's handshake mechanically. It was him, why was he here.

“W-why... What?” He smiled, glancing at the half-empty bottle in my hand.

“I heard there was another newcomer in this one, I just wanted to wish you luck in the race.” He paused for a moment. “I'm not the newest racer on the course anymore, so thank you for that as well.”

“Uhh... Yer welcome?” I said in a bit of a daze. He chuckled a little.

“That doesn't mean I'll go easy on you. You have to fight if you want to win, I wouldn't expect any less from you.” The badges on his red flightsuit were corporate logos, sponsors.

“Yeah...” I didn't feel so well.

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He said and waved to me as he walked away.

I made it some of the way back around the docking ring before I threw up into a hydroponic planter with a dumpy tree sticking out of it. I staggered back to Vincent and crept onto him, I was considering passing out in the hallway when I heard voices coming from Shay's room. It sounded like Waldo and her were talking. I tried to sneak past the doorway to the cockpit.

“I think he's just a little spooked. He used to scramble at the first sight of the law back in the Indi days.” Wald was explaining.

“I am not sure if the Inquisitor is all that is troubling him.” Shay retorted.

“That combined with pre-race jitters maybe? Woundo is a big guy, but he can be a little fragile sometimes.” They laughed a little, Shay coughed a bit.

“Perhaps... Perhaps.” She agreed before coughing again. “Perhaps he simply needs to try some of this.” They laughed again, I made my way into the cockpit as I caught the smell of the Onionhead.

I had nothing against it, I just wasn't sure I preferred it to the warm-fuzzy feeling alcohol gave me. Some people got really paranoid when they smoked it, I could see why. It was like my head became all too clear. If I had another insomnia attack I might ask Waldo for another toke though. Far too soon after I'd lost consciousness, Shay woke me up.

“We should ready ourselves.” She was handing me a packet of coffee, this mitigated the lack of sleep.

“Why's that?” I mumbled as I pierced the pouch and consumed its contents.

“In just less than hour Captain Wald will be taking the Iovianus' to a shipyard, I will be accompanying him.” She broke eye contact for but a moment before adding. “I would like you to come also.”

“And why's that?” I asked as I finished the packet.

“You have expertise on ships, and are excellent negotiator.” Her answer was good, but she had to assume I had such expertise. Also, Waldo knew the proprietor of the shipyard; my haggling skills were moot.

“Why else?” She looked at me carefully before answering.

“You are afraid of something.” I almost answered her, like it was a question. “Whatever it is, you should be with us.”

“It's just...” There might be words for it, somewhere. “...Me. Y'all ain't gotta worry 'bout nothin'.” I tried with all my might to downplay my anxieties.

“I will remain concerned about the Inquisitor.” Shay added pointedly.

“Well, yeah.” I let out a single chuckle.

“What else are you afraid of?” The Massive Mercenary probed.

“Nothin'.” I lied.

“You lie.” She could see right through me. Her words were a statement of fact, not an accusation.

“It's...” I couldn't lie to my friend, She deserved better. Also, she could tell. “I need ta do sommit... Not good, for all this.” I drew on the straw again reflexively, the packet was already empty.

“I was... Concerned this was the case. What must be done, Commander?” Her willingness to help was well intentioned, but disconcerting.

“Landy wants one of the racers gone.” I let out a breath.

“And?” Shay's curt reply caught me slightly off guard.

“Don't tell anyone.” I whispered my plea, for no particular reason.

“I believe they will notice.” She hid a smirk. “You are overreacting, I am sure you can defeat any showboater.”

“That's... Not it. I-I'm...” I looked at my hands and tried to collect my thoughts. Shay made a small sound of recognition.

“You would rather not add to your regrets?” She understood, sounded a little bemused about it but she understood.

“Yeah, no. I don't wanna kill nobody.” The weight on my soul eased a little.

“Else.” Her correction dropped it back down.

“Yeah.” I agreed meekly.

“Before we met, I understand you downed several of Kane's pilots. You seemed to have no qualms there, how would this kill compare to those?” She spoke in a business-like manner I rather disliked.

“What d'you mean 'compare'?” At the time I'd thought it was satisfying, but that lasted barely a few hours before being a Human Being set back in.

“Their value, in return to you.” She answered, then seeing my confused expression she added. “What does Commander Revenant receive in exchange for these kills?”

“Quintina and Terrentius get to be free?” I didn't mean to ask that as a question but it came out like one anyway.

“One life for two seems a fair deal. You bought those same two lives for four or five before, this seems a low cost to protect your investment.” She was absolutely correct.

“Five.” I took a deep breath. “I suppose yer right, It just don't feel good.” She was trying to help, I guess.

“This is not a bad thing, it should not feel good.” The Massive Mercenary patted me gently on the shoulder. “Now come along, I believe some activity would do you good.”

We met with Waldo and the Iovianus' on the concourse by the docking pads. Terrentius looked like he hadn't slept, Quintina looked excited. My Old Friend had his hands on his hips.

“You guys took your time, let's go. We have a ship to buy.” He waved us over dramatically and began to walk deeper into the dockworks.

Before too long we arrived at a little run down shop with no signage. Waldo walked up to the hatchway and deftly keyed a code into the console beside it. It slid open with a painful sound, a dab of lubricant could do wonders there. Waldo walked up to the dusty and seemingly abandoned front desk of the dark workshop. He leaned against it and cleared his throat.

“The service here is still shit!” My Old Friend called.

“Wald!?” A surly blonde woman wearing a pocketed jumpsuit emerged from an office doorway beyond the desk. “I thought we agreed you weren't to show your face around here anymore?”

“I thought you were joking, Scottie.” Waldo gave a broad smile, the shop owner crossed her tattoo emblazoned arms and rolled her eyes.

“Your ship's a joke, Captain.” She poured sarcasm into her words.

“You only say that because you're jealous.” B. replied dismissively.

“The hell you want, anyway?” I noted Scottie's voice was becoming jovial.

“I need a ship.” My friend's statement was met with a surprised look from the shop owner.

“Your bucket of bolts finally crap out on ya?” She spoke somewhere between excitement and dismay.

“You wish, Scottie. The Highwayman's never been better. It's a gift for my soon-to-be licensed friends.” Waldo gestured to bring the shop owner's attention to the rest of us standing a few meters behind.

“So who's the lucky- Holy shit!?” The shop owner had not been prepared to see Shay there. A slightly awkward moment passed.

“Good morning. My name is Shay.” The Massive Mercenary held out her hand in greeting.

“Oh... Uhmm... Hi there.” Waldo fought a laugh as the shop owner reached hesitantly over her counter to shake the Moreau's hand. “What... Are you?” She added after a moment.

“Becoming slightly annoyed.” Shay answered with a small smirk.

“So about a ship, It's for these two.” Waldo stepped sideways and lightly pushed the Iovianus' forewards.

“Right, ships.” Scottie shook her head slightly, “It's always a trip with you Wald.”

She produced a small bin filled with dusty brochures, and slid it across the desk. Waldo took it, and thrust it into Terrentius' hands. The Imperial looked down at the bin and muttered his thanks. Waldo reopened an old debate with the shop owner about fuel scoops. Terrentius was dejectedly glancing through the bin, Quintina was becoming exasperated with him.

“Errything okay?” I asked them.

“Oh, yes-yes. Just, I'm not too sure about ships.” Terrentius muttered.

“Most folks start out flying a 'Winder, but I think Waldo wants to get you two a leg up from that.” I pointed at a very well-read leaflet describing Faulcon-Delacy's entry-level market-killer.

“Are 'Sidewinders' good vessels?” Terrentius asked, sounding a little lost.

“Yeah, for what they cost.” I explained.

“Sidewinders are only good for system taxis. Delacy put a 'shifter in them because people wanted it, not because it's worth doing.” Quintina suddenly announced, in a slight huff.

“She's not wrong.” I agreed, a little surprised.

“What about this, it looks a little more capable.” Terrentius was holding up a pamphlet for a Hauler. I made a face.

“Yeah, Haulers ain't that bad...” I tried to think of a polite way of phrasing my distaste for those ships. “They ain't real confidence-inspiring, though.”

“Really? Does Zorgon-Peterson have a poor reputation?” He asked, examining the sheaf in his hands again.

“They make a damn fine flightsuit, but their homegrown ships are all a little... I dunno flimsy.” I half-heartedly explained.

“Zorgon-Peterson built the Fer-De-Lance.” Quintna objected.

“That they did, but those ships only got popular after Saud-Kruger decided to start retrofitting them with FSD's and Rumpus-Rooms.” Personally I thought those old things made better investments than vessels, what kind of madman would actually combat fly an antique?

“I've never heard of this manufacturer before...”  Quintina said as she pulled another dusty brochure out of the box. I recognized the logo immediately.

“Outland Workshop? Lemme see that!” She handed me the sheaf, it was.

That folded bit of cracked plastic might be worth a few thousand credits to the right collector. I checked the printing date, the thing had been rolling around Jameson Memorial for nearly four centuries.

“Well I'll be damned.” I muttered, in awe.

“What is it?” Quintina asked.

“Adder. Original sales materials. This is a bit o' history right here.” I waved the pamphlet to illustrate my point.

“I thought Adders were just an upgrade package from the Hauler.” Quintina asked. Her brother shook his head and placed the bin of information into her lap, defeated.

“Zee-Pee's been sellin' 'em that way for years, but Outland designed 'em. Built the first few before they went under too.” I flipped the brochure over. “It's a shame you only see the new ones these days, Outland liked to pinstripe em. Zorgo-Peeps just paints 'em grey.”

“I think I might have a ship for you, then.” Scottie interrupted to announce.

“What do you mean?” Quintina asked, taking the brochure from my hands.

The shop owner just smiled and let us behind the desk. The back of her shop looked like any other, a mess of tools and parts surrounding half constructed vessels. The only thing I noticed was a complete lack of activity, and no duplicate tool sets. Scottie was the only technician in her shop, her time must be quite valuable.

She pointed to a ship hidden in the back, it was half covered by a tarp. Smooth, round lines giving way to a cluster of small winglets. What of it's hull that was visible was a pearly white, bright green strips of paint ran along the vessel's waterline.

“No.” I declared, looking towards Scottie.

“Oh yes.” She grinned slyly, so too did Waldo. I reached up to the tarp, then stopped myself.

“Actually, I think it's you two who're supposed ta get the honours.” I directed the Iovianus' towards the ship.

“But... The cost...” Terrentius stammered. Waldo shook his head and laughed.

“It's nothing, Terry. Honestly.” Waldo encouraged him.

“No, no. We couldn't. A Hauler, or something inexpensive.” He was turning red.

Quintina made an impatient sound and stepped forewards to rip the tarp off the ship. The Outland Adder was a thing of beauty, I could tell by the dorsal strip of gold paint it was a late model one, they got a little less conservative as the credit-flow got tighter. The later models had stronger maneuvering thrusters too, made them better suited to restoration.

“What got dropped for the 'Shifter?” I asked Scottie. The shop owner crossed her tattooed arms and considered the quality of my question.

“The Rem-lok reserve. Just like a Zee-Pee one.” She knew what she was doing.

“The flight computer, you go for a modern one?” I gave her one last opportunity to impress me completely.

“Nope, hacked the firmware so it can cull Galnet and Uni-Cart data, but it's still running mark two flight control.” Scottie knew exactly what she was doing. This Outland Adder was the holy-grail of Resto-Mods, to a correctly discerning eye.

“What does that mean?” Terrentius asked anyone. His sister surprised me by giving the answer before I could.

“This Adder doesn't know it's own limits. She won't stop you from pushing her.” Quintina had her ship now, the rest was just a formality.

“Before Hyperspace got cheap, most flights were done all in realspace while you went under Rem-Lok.” I pointed to the Adder. “This is one of those ships.”

“So you are saying this vessel is faster than normal?” Terrentius was starting to clue in.

“She's so damn quick I'm putting 'general services' on your invoice, and denying ever having sold it to you.” Scottie exclaimed. “Just be careful about stopping, limitless speed is different from limitless control.”

“Awesome! You two climb aboard and get situated. Scottie, come on. I gotta pay.” Waldo was pleased as could be with the situation. He led the shop owner back towards her desk, leaving the rest of us with the Adder.

Quintina led us up the ramp onto her new ship. Her brother had lost his lost expression and replaced it with a hesitantly excited one.

“Ya allright?” I asked him quietly.

“Umm, yes. Just slightly out of my comfort zone.” He let out a shaky chuckle.

“Your sister seems to know what she's on about.” I pointed out. He slowed and let her and Shay enter the cockpit before stopping completely and turning to me.

“Did you know she was a ship-guy?” He asked me at a whisper, once we were alone in the central room.

“No, you didn't either?” He shook his head.

“I knew she could fly a ship, Atta used to let her take the controls from his lap.” He noticed the side-eyed look I was giving him. “Umm... what's the word... 'Papa', our father.”

“No. He let her sit in his lap while he flew a fuckin' ship?” They didn't even make child sized flightsuits. Nobody, not even in the Milky-Way, had the stones to try wiring a little kid up to the medical systems.

“Not a starship, I'm sorry. He owned an old Atmoplane.” Terrentius realized he had given me the wrong picture, I was relieved.

“She seems to have picked up starships somewhere.” I mused and led us into the cockpit.

His sister was at the helm, making repetitious adjustments to the position of the pilot's chair. Shay was stoically pretending not to be uncomfortably crammed into the space available. The Massive Mercenary was sitting on the floor, her head was touching the ceiling.

“Terry, sit down. Make yourself at home.” Quintina said over her shoulder. Terrentius shook slightly when she did.

“Yeah, I should take a look through the systems.” He said as he walked over Shay's legs to sit down in the co-pilot's chair. His false confidence was getting better.

Quintina looked over the control panel for a moment, chewing on the back of her knuckle. Then she brought her hand out to a control before halting it a few centimeters away. She slowly looked over her shoulder to me. She had a questioning look on her face. It took me a moment to figure out what she wanted, her finger was hovering over the startup switch. I nodded, she smiled and activated the vessel's power generator.

The power genny Zorgon-Peterson designed themselves, the one in a Hauler. It was fine, perfectly adequate. The only thing about it was that it was a scaled-up version of another generator they sold for prefab buildings. It was a fine genny for a cheap ship, but it made a constant sound like it was about to explode. I flew a borrowed Hauler this one time, spent the whole trip cursing out that 'last-legs beater'. I got so mad about it I found the poor things V.I.D. plate, to see exactly how many centuries of misuse she had been put through. That Hauler sounded like it had to be at least two hundred years past due for maintenance, turned out to be less than six years out of the factory. Shit-boxes.

This Adder had the original genny that Outland Workshop had given her. Nobody made ones that growled like that anymore. I waited for the temperature to rise, the nearly mythical Outland-Heat-Spike. Then I waited some more, if anything it was getting colder in the cockpit.

“Could ya pull up the systems panel fer a sec?” I asked Quintina. She did so without saying anything, she was lightly touching each of the flight controls and muttering to herself. Trying to remember, it looked like.

The holographic display listed all the different parts of the ship. I noticed the Adder was outfitted well beyond entry level. Probably more than ready for long range hauling, or more likely smuggling. I ran my eyes along the power usage of each system then did some quick maths to compare to the percentage used. They weren't adding up. Well they were, there was just too much extra. I estimated that the Adder was enjoying over thirty megawatts of power. I looked at the main display in front of Quintina, It was running over thirty megawatts and idling at under twenty percent heat dispersion.

“Waldo done did the genny on this bitch.” I gasped. Everyone looked at me. “Ne'er let anybody take this ship, nor the fusion-plant off yer hands. They's worth more than their weight in Painite.” I explained as best as I could without bringing up that there were exactly two power generators like this in the whole galaxy.

Actually that was a lie, Waldo started with just some Lakon Crate-Genny for The Highwayman. Gottdamn, I hoped B. could explain to at least one of the siblings how to keep the cooling coils spooling each other.

I left the Iovianus' to their vessel, Terrentius was rolling through the computer like he programmed it and his sister looked about ready for launch. As I made my way down the ramp I heard Shay behind me.

“I am happy for them.” She admitted, pulling herself out of the egress hatch. “Though I would not be comfortable in such wessel.” She added as she popped her neck.

“We best see if Waldo's done payin', I bet Quintina's itchin' to lift off.” I said as I started walking towards the office, it wasn't far.

“Captain Wald? Miss Scottie?” Shay called out as we stepped inside. The office was deserted.

There was a muffled sound of a scuffle coming through a wall before B. Wald was suddenly thrown through a doorway leading out of Scottie's office. He staggered sideways for a moment as he stuffed his left arm back into his flightsuit. Scottie slammed the door shut behind him. Waldo gave us an apologetic grin as he finished zipping his suit up. Scottie emerged from her back room a moment later with her jumpsuit down to her waist and tied there, she was holding Waldo's long red coat closed with her hand.

“So your invoice is...” Scottie looked around hastily before finding a printed sheaf on the top of the pile that was her desk. “Right here. I can open up the roof and you can be on your way.” She thrust the plastic into Waldo's hands, who looked at it then gave it to me.

“You can give this to them.” He said.

“Yeah. They're probably ready to fly anyway.” I said and looked at Shay.

“I suppose you will not require me to guard your body for the time being, Captain Wald.” The Massive Mercenary said as she looked between B. and the shop owner. “We will meet later, at ships.”

They barely waited for us to leave before they started grappling again. I shook my head and chuckled a little as we exited the office. Shay made a displeased sound as she crawled back onto the Adder. Terrentius took the sheaf and began transcribing it onto his P.A.D. Quintina clasped her harness together and looked expectantly out the canopy. Once he finished typing Terrentius noticed his sister's intensity and began to fumble with his own harness. Shay placed herself back into the aft corner of the cockpit and braced herself with her legs. I suddenly realized that I had little to no place to be when the ship took off.

“Umm... Where should I...?” I mumbled and looked all around.

The room behind the cockpit was serviceable to occupy while the ship was in motion, but it would be hard to coach the siblings' flying from another room. All the proper seats were occupied already, and I lacked the stature or strength to hold myself in place like Shay did.

“Sit, here.” Shay said as she reached out and tugged at my arm. She pulled me down into her lap.

“Umm, thanks.” I muttered, an intense feeling of discomfort taking hold. I sat across her legs with mine hanging beside her.

“Watch your elbows around my waist, or I may drop you.” She said as she wrapped her left arm around me.

The roof of the workshop suddenly began to slide open, Quintina barely gave it time to make way before she fired up the ventral thrusters. The shock of movement made me reflexively wrap my hands around Shay's arm. The landing gear slid away as the ship pitched up and started to accelerate. I noted minute twitching motions of Quintina's wrist; deftly controlling any errant rotations manually. The half-open roof passed us by in an instant and we were loose in the docking ring. I had planned to explain docking procedures to the siblings at this point, but I was silenced by the tenacious blast through the ring and onward out the mailslot that Quintina executed.

The void filled our view through the cockpit, a local security officer saw the maneuver and put their craft behind us for a scan. Quintina wrapped her hand around the throttle and stared at her scope. As the fuzz ranged in his scanner, she punched it. The Adder proclaimed an already defunct warning and we ripped ourselves out from under their scan. They probably figured we hit up to 'Cruise. I watched the speed indicator climb, and climb. Before barely a minute we were doing over thirteen hundred meters per second. Suddenly I weighed drastically less, and unpressed from against Shay, as she in turn was pulled slightly away from the aft wall. There was a sudden wild pull as we whirled around all-but exactly one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. Jameson Memorial Station was spinning and shrinking before us.

“I like it.” Quintina announced, as she tweaked at the throttle to begin the slow process of arresting all that velocity.

“Venter meus, Vae.” Terrentius muttered. “Quid tibi est?” He swallowed and asked his sister.

“Quam diu fuit Terry, tibi me est?” She shook her head at him. “I've always loved flying.”

“I just wanted to hear you say it again, here.” He replied, he just needed to be reassured.

Watching her handle that Outland on approach, and the confidence with which she spoke to traffic control, I decided she had real experience with a vessel. Not just some long-time-past messing around with a 'plane, Quintina had been made to fly a proper ship at some point, I had to guess sometime while she was still contracted as a slave. I wish I had gotten a chance to ask her about it.

They gave her docking pad twenty-nine, she landed like it was routine. Terrentius barely waited until after touchdown to unbuckle and announce that he would like to return to Wald's ship. He said he had some motion sickness medication with his things. I climbed off Shay to go with him when his sister spoke up.

“Can you stay here for a moment, Commander?” She sounded slightly hesitant to ask.

“Oh, uhh... Yeah of course.” I replied.

“I will come with you, I would enjoy standing at full height for some time... Though your wessel is lovely Quintina, I am simply too tall for it.” The Massive Mercenary said as she scuttled her way out of the cockpit.

After her brother and Shay had finished leaving the ship, and were visible making their way along the docking ring, Quintina finally spoke back up.

“Have you ever raced before?” She pleaded, I tensed up and fought the urge to dodge the question.

“Yeah, a couple o' times.” Those were the old times, just like now.

“Where are they holding it?” She knew what questions to ask.

“A crack in an ice moon, point oh-eight gees.” I rattled from my memory of the message.

“What kind of ice?” Her question gave me pause, I had not considered it before and had to double check my P.A.D.

“Umm... Methane.” I read, I was about to follow up by asking her why that mattered when she brought up a another question of her own.

“Metallic deposits?” I scanned the readout attached to the message and affirmed her suspicion. “What kinds?” She asked intensely.

“Sodium, lithium.” I read, I opened my mouth again to ask her why.

“This is a moon in close orbit of a Jovian isn't it?” She interrupted me again, she was right.

“Yeah, yer right. Why is all this important.” I finally asked her.

“Whoever set up this race should be telling everyone to bring shields, there's a vae good chance of some fireworks. Peroxide salts” She explained.

“Where'd ya learn about this stuff?” She looked away from me for a moment.

“What’s the prize?” She asked instead of answering, she gave me an odd glance when I had to check.

“Eight hundred thousand credits, and uh-” I laughed a little at the picture of it. “Oh shit, check this out.” I showed Quintina the screen.

“A tiara?” She smirked. “That seems a little opulent.”

“Says its Platinum and Painite, shit probably doubles the value of the win.” I whistled.

“Do you have any idea about the competition... Do we actually have a chance of winning?” She had an intensity to her expression.

“I don't really, know about the other racers. I suppose we could win, everybody else just needs ta lose is all.” She laughed.

“I need practice. The race is only a few days away.” She declared, I agreed.

“We don't need to win, I just gotta...” Murder a man. “Be there, and the entrance papers are yours.”

“I'm going to try to win, I couldn't do any less.” The Imperial woman smirked.

“Your brother ain't really got his space-legs, do he?” I felt the need to mention.

“Oh Terry is just a drama-queen.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “If we win, he'll be over the moons.”

“Alright then.” I kept my doubts to myself.

“What else is needed of you for this, above being there?” Her question froze me.

“P-pardon?” A slight ringing began in my left ear.

“I don't believe for a second that all you need to do is show up for a race to get us into the Pilots Federation.” She powered down the Adder and turned in her chair to face me. “I want to know what else I have to thank you for.”

“Don't thank me for it.” I muttered and looked away. “Thank Waldo, I'm just chasing after good favours with bad.” She furrowed her brow at me.

“Does the Pilots Federation have a class on rebuking gratitude?” She laughed at me. “Or are you and your friend the odd Commanders out on being humble?” Her joke garnered a small chuckle from me.

“Somethin' like that, yeah.” I agreed as we made our way off her parked vessel.

That evening Quintina was getting the others to help move her and her brothers things onto the Adder. Most of the luggage was her brothers, the pair of them were traveling very light. I realized that they were most likely doing so without having been given the choice.

“You think this gonna make up fer what you done?” Pops shot the question from the co-pilot's chair as I watched through the canopy, my friends were gathering to carry a few items the short distance.

“No.” Nothing could make up for me.

“Then why bother?” It was a good question, in that it was the worst question.

“It's the right thing.” My answer was tired and weak.

“Says you.” I was reminded, by the ghost of my first victim.