Mostly Human

Part One

These days the number seems smaller, back then the distance was madness. Twenty-two thousand light years made for quite the pilgrimage. I wish it was mine, but I was simply there. Your uncle can be an incredibly driven man, when some insane inkling has caught him. I thank fate for this particular mote of inspiration, before he became entwined with this plan; I feared he was readying to kill himself.

Your mother had only just joined the Pilots Academy, and so far as I know was not yet in a relationship with your father. He, your uncle, and I had traveled to some system the two of them had history in. I have since learned that this system is where your, as he says Sidekick, comes from. Your uncle described himself as ‘Owing’ something to some woman he felt he had wronged there. As I understand, the plan was to give this woman whatever satisfaction shouting at him, or perhaps slapping Allan would offer. I assumed they shared a bed and he left shortly thereafter, if I am being honest.

Regardless of what happened between them, it became apparent that this woman was no longer residing in Korwei. Your father was able to console your uncle, by insisting that wherever she had gone too, she could be found. I am not sure which of them discovered her trail, but it only took a few days. This is where things became horribly complicated.

“I should’a been there.” Allan’s best attempt at gathering his thoughts for many days after he found out where she had gone.

Several times, your father and I spoke of what to do. My worries for Allan were growing, but my concern spiked when your father admitted something to me.

“I don’t know what to do.” At the time still Captain, I had never before heard such uncertainty from Brent Wald.

The woman sought by your uncle had decided to join many more on a starport that planned an unprecedented journey. A long-Range Hyperspace jump on untested hardware. Optimism can often make a substitute for preparation, but just as often it fails to do so. They never arrived at their intended destination, the obvious conclusion that they were at best Missing, and at worst annihilated in Hyperspace. If I am being honest, I am unsure if I have ordered those options correctly.

Allan became lost to melancholy, in a way much more terrifying than I have ever before or since witnessed. I felt the need to watch him, in fear of what he may do if left alone. I had to drag him to meals, occasionally literally. He ceased drinking alcohol, instead spending hours glaring angrily at nothing. Or hiding on his vessel while both of us pretended he was not weeping. Something had to be done, but just as your father, I had no clue how to help.

I could only hope for time to slowly heal his wounds. I was never the kind to pray for miracles.

Then a fateful day arrived, at first Captain Wald and I could only worry. Your uncle had barely moved of his own accord for days, so when both of us awoke and failed to find him, we panicked. His vessel remained on its docking pad, so we were searching anywhere nearby one could purchase coffee. That plan having failed to locate him, we immediately attempted to devise a better one. He came running into our midst, waving a printout and shouting joyously at us.

“We gotta go! She’s here, right here!” He gestured at his news article, as if that explained anything to us. “Some nut found ‘em! We gotta go!”

Allan’s excitement was manic and contagious. It took some time to coax a proper explanation out of him. An explorer, or perhaps a hermit is the better word, stumbled across a starport on the far side of a nebula. He evidently was more curious that perturbed, as he docked with them. I am less than sure I would be so willing to make such a choice, should I have found a darkened Port floating ominously in some cloud twenty-two thousand light-years from known civilization. I can only image what sort of thoughts went through that Commander’s mind, so far as anyone knows; there were only twelve people who saw them and even they did not see Cly’s face. The whole time they were on Jaques, Commander Cly kept their visor sealed. It has been decades now, I imagine if this miraculous explorer intended to be seen again it would have already happened.

Your father and I were suddenly tasked with convincing your uncle not to simply dive out into the Deep-Black without preparation. He tried to justify taking that Assault-Ship of his, it did have a fuel-scoop, but still. By pulling several strings, as he is want to do, your father was able to secure a heavily discounted vessel, an Anaconda. Allan had it outfitted well, he will always be a Space-Trucker at heart. He knew exactly what fitting was required based solely on proper estimation and the third-eye of experience.

Even as laden as he intended to take that vessel, the jump range he managed to squeeze from it remained impressive to me for years. He did not board his new vessel until all preparations were completed, an unprecedented hesitance from Allan. He led me inside it once it was time, he has always seemed more comfortable in a shared cockpit.

“It’s so strange.” He muttered as he stared at the pilot’s seat, instead of sitting in it.

“What is?” I asked for clarification, as you know this is often necessary when speaking with your uncle.

“Just, how things have this way ah… Happenin’.” He shook his head lightly, and put a thin smile onto his face. “Years an’ years ago now, I bought a cheap ship an’ told myself I’d sell that junker ta buy o’ of these, as soon as. Never did, fell in love with a Lakon Shitbox instead.”

After a small moment of mirth he sighed and told me yet again how much he missed his old freighter. A Type-Seven he named Flottvogn. A name I find difficult to pronounce, and amusing to hear Allan do so.

“What will you name your new freighter?” I asked him, hoping my question would be optimistic in tone.

“Husvogn.” Answered with no hesitation, Allan surprised me.

This, and-” I struggled through an attempt to say it, but he understood. “What do these names mean?”

“Flott mean Fat. Vogn is Truck, like ta haul.” With a smile he concluded. “Flottvogn means Fat-Wagon. It’s something ya might call a pudgy friend to rile him up.”

“A term of endearment?” My question received a nod and grin. “So what does Hus mean, in this context?”

“Well that’s a little different, Y’see in Husvogn the action’s emphasized. So it’s meanin’ more like Mobile.” His accent deepened, and he blushed.

“Mobile-Wagon?” This time my question received a frown.

“Nah, I mean Vogn mean Mobile, this time around.” Allan looked away.

“Then what is Hus-Mobile?” I joked.

“Home-Mobile.” He answered, cringing.

“I… I thnk this is a good name for a ship of yours, Allan.” I admitted to my friend.

He said nothing in reply, but seemed less embarrassed about his Husvogn from then on. The next day You father and Allan shared an embrace on the docking pad. Saying few words to each-other before boarding their respective vessels. I am left assuming it had something to do with your mother, as Brent would only explain that he was needed in The Bubble. But Allan and Wald would not be making the pilgrimage together then, though both were fated to make the journey many times. Neither seemed worried. Though they seemed so inseparable to me, this was their way with each-other and both of them were accustomed to it.

Allan launched his Husvogn with me alongside him. Alone and left to my own accords, I would never have travelled so deep into the Black, I would never have had reason to. But for your uncle, it was easy. Then it was just the two of us for many months.

We saw stellar sights that still paint my dreams with beautiful backdrops. We shared stories, deepening our friendship. We learned which of the things a Chef-Machine can make that are good, and which are not. We pressed each-other’s boundaries unintentionally and strained our friendship. We persevered and remained determined. I think back on that time and can find many of my fondest, and a handful of my most reviled memories.

Our journey was finally coming to an end, the number of jumps to the star now known as Colonia could be counted on your fingers. It would only be a matter of hours before we would finally arrive. In a kind of bridled excitement, we made the smallest of talks. Then I asked your uncle a question that went deeper than I’d meant it to.

“How did you learn she was there?” Was that question.

“Oh from, that news-bit someone printed when she left Korwei.” Allan explained plainly.

“I meant, how did you learn she was still there.” I gestured through the canopy in the direction of our travel to explain further.

“Oh that... I ain't know that.” Allan’s answer was followed by some silent moments.

“You… You don’t?” My question hung in the air.

“Naw.” He hesitated. “But it’s okay, if she’s not.”

Your uncle tends towards truth, but on occasion he will attempt to lie. Allan is far from skilled with dishonesty, and I have grown accustomed to him, I can easily tell when he shies away from truth. Like when a person will stall for a moment in a doorway, trepidation for their next step. I did not need to hear his words, or smell his feelings, the way Allan shrank into the pilot’s seat told me how very Not-Okay Allan was with the situation. He noticed me watching him, and saw the concern in my eyes.

“She ain’t.” His voice broke. “Jaques set out with just shy o’ thirteen million folk on it. Headcount they gave last, was three-hundred an’ twenty five.”

Neither of us spoke for some time, eventually I broke that silence.

“Then, why are-” Your uncle cut me off sullenly.

“Penance.” He muttered. “These folk need help, supplies need runnin’. So I’s headin’ back out there.”

When he is taken by some insane inkling, your uncle may be the most driven man I know.

Our arrival was perturbingly routine. Automated systems clearing us for docking against the purple backdrop of the Colonia Nebula. Though at the time it was still known by its Catalogue Identity, and Jaques Station itself was transmitting a scrambled reference code, this would suffice and a proper reset of the system was still below priority. We set down. The dock was active, shockingly so, many Commanders had felt that same calling. An overworked man approached us as we made our way across the docking pad. His first question was in regards to Human cargo, he noted down that we had brought none with satisfaction.

“A few gennies, some meds, an’ a load o’ Food Cartridges.” Allan’s description of his carriage brought a light to the man’s eyes.

“Oh by gods, if half the Commanders coming this way were as smart as you, sir.” He muttered, then used his P.A.D. to call for a team to unload Allan’s vessel.

“I can assist with the cargo.” I offered.

“Thank you, we could use the help.” He replied honestly, and without hesitation.

“I brought a little bit o’ booze too.” Allan quipped. “Didn’t know if ol’ Jaques needed a top-up or not.”

The Starport was, at the time, quite short-staffed. To put the situation lightly. A pair of dockhands were all that could be spared to offload Allan’s cargo. This was what it looked like at the time, when doing so was given priority. Too few people were available for the starport to have proper infrastructure, most of those onboard were living in and out of the docking ring. I took it upon myself to stack the cannisters by contents and allow the other two to worry about ferrying them to their destinations. My task took less time than theirs, so before long I was also carting cannisters one or two at a time, to wherever they were required.

My arrival was celebrated several times, or rather the arrival of what I was carrying. Regardless it was not a terrible task, I met many determined individuals that day, optimistic pioneers.

Only two people carried a severe attitude, they were far from wrong to do so, but they stood out for it. The first was a surgeon, evidently one of the few able practicers of medicine aboard, and now tasked with the management of things normally beyond him. He was clearly overstressed and asked that the power generator be placed alongside his other spares.

“There are five others here, what is consuming so much energy?” I asked him as I noticed.

“No, something keeps frying them and we can’t risk an outage.” He answered sullenly.

“Something?” I asked, because he put a strange emphasis on the word.

“I only know people sicknesses.” He replied dejectedly.

Without answers, I could only continue to deliver goods. Later in the day, I met the other of the standout people. I thought her a schoolteacher at first glance.

“Let’s see how long we can make this one last.” She said to herself as I showed her the cannister of food cartridges. Then she gestured towards its resting place.

Several empty canisters were nearby. Her classroom was well used, children of several ages milled about. None of them seemed very phased by my presence, several stared but no more.

“I can try to secure another, if you need it.” I offered.

“No, no thank you. We need to learn to conserve.” Her face looked worn.

“A valuable lesson.” I tried to assure her. “You seem a good teacher.”

“I gotta do what I can.” The woman admitted to me. “They don’t have many other people looking out for them anymore.”

Then she stood up and began to gather the children for dinner. Some of the older ones were issued tasks in the process, the youngest were being seen to as best as possible. I took over serving, to free the hands of a teenager, so they could feed an infant. As I was finishing up, the woman thanked me, then served herself. She offered me something to eat, but I declined. Allan’s Husvogn carried provisions for me, I would take no food from her orphanage.

That evening Allan and I sat in the emptied holds of his vessel, sharing a beverage. He was pretending to be happy, telling me of how impressed he was with the people he had met that day. Allan feigns inspiration well.

“What shall we do, now?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“I dunno, fart around ‘ere fer a bit.” He thought and drank for a moment. “I guess, head back.”

We were silent for a moment, then he shrugged. So I shrugged as well.

“You’ve done good here.” I said, more flatly than I’d hoped. “Everything you’ve brought has been very well received.”

“I know.” Your uncle took a drink. “I just… Hoped, ya know.”

“Yes Allan, I do know. Hope is a powerful thing.” I held his arm. “You are good at bringing it, alongside alcohol and food.”

“Aww, not now Shay. Can I have a bit ta mourn a woman who probably would’a kicked my ass fer showin’ up here?” He attempted a joke.

“Sure Allan.” I laughed for him. “Tell me about the one who got away.”

“She had a worn-out look about her, but knew what needed to be done an’ was determined as all-fuck to see it happen.” Your uncle’s eyes welled up with a handful of tears. Don’t tell him I’ve admitted that to you.

He loved this woman more than he had the words for. He told me of how he stumbled into her midst and helped her. Then of how he realized what was between them after it had begun, only at the time he failed to cope. He regretted his foolishness, he presumed he always would.

In the morning I witnessed a miracle.

The only cafe operating in the docking ring was deceptively busy. Most Commanders present at Jaques needed a place to eat breakfast, and though it remained operational The Bar itself retained night-life hours. Towards the end of my meal, and your uncle’s third coffee, a rather loud conversation erupted a few booths away.

A Commander was taking great satisfaction in explaining to someone that free work was below any Commander. Excessive, is how I would describe their tirade.

“Fuck, I aughta take the job just ta spite ‘im.” Your uncle muttered suddenly.

“Do it.” On a whim, I encouraged him.

To my surprize, he nodded with a serious expression and took me up on it.

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but hear an’ I…” Allan began a speech as he approached the booth, but something took away his breath.

I scanned the booth to cover my confusion. The Commander sitting there was as bewildered as I. Sat across from him was, to my bemusement, the woman from the orphanage. Her expression rapidly alternating from shock to anger and back again.

“Commander… Gorewound?” She called him by an alias he had abandoned some time before, as she stood up and approached him.

“Yer alive?” He asked, tears falling.

For a miniscule moment of shuddering muscles, I thought she was going to punch him, I think he did too, Allan tensed for it. But the woman wrapped her arms around him and released a tiny sob of her own. Immediately Allan’s arms grasped for her shoulders, and he began to babble about how sorry he was. I don’t think he could hear her mumbling that it didn’t matter as she shook her head against his neck. The confused Commander still seated at the booth shot me a shug, followed by a hesitant thumb-up. I smiled and nodded my head at him. As he excused himself, I looked over again at your uncle and the woman he loved.

Allan and Huxley, obviously you know them. At the time I found it difficult to keep my own eyes dry. Before too long, Huxley switched from tears to laughter which quickly subsided as she beckoned your uncle to sit. As he did he composed himself.

“Wait, Hux. What did you need?” He asked with a sudden severity.

“No, no. Just for a minute.” She said. “Are you still using that callsign?”

“My name’s Allan, this is Shay. She’s working out of my ship at the moment, which is an Anaconda named Husvogn. I lost that little trophy thing y’all gave me when I got shot down, since I got my shit together after livin’ through that, I’ve been lookin’ fer you.” He took a breath and reached out to grasp her hands across the table. “What do you need?”

“I can’t.” She said, very quietly.

“If y’all need something, then I need it too.” He assured her. “Whatever it might be.”

“There are children here…” She hesitated, knowing where her request would send him. “With families, in The Bubble.”

“Tell me where, them kid’s is gettin’ home. Or I’ll eat mah helmet.” On that day Allan found the insane inkling that was made for him to find.

“Will y-” He didn’t let her finish, your uncle quashed her worries the moment he saw them.

“I am.” He told her.

He did. In fact he’s made a profession of coming Home to her.

Part Two

I can never really tell, if I hate routine or not. When I have it, I hate it, but when I don’t. Well, that’s when I need it. I think most of us need it, at least sometimes. I don’t know who named it Colonia Dream, but I now I don’t like the name. It’s not a dream, it’s every day. Well, now it is. Funnily enough, the Patron who sentenced me, he said that a few years of service could be a new beginning. I doubt he would have guessed this though.

When they opened my pod they told me they had good news and bad news. That’s something that’s every day now as well. It’s fucking beautiful here, so there’s always that. They said the infrastructure was new and they needed people. I had something like the credentials they were looking for. A certain degree of amnesty was being offered, to me and to the Commander who’d stolen my cryopod. He was long gone, back to The Bubble they said. That was the bad news, where we were. I was free to work, or go back into storage. They’d see about maybe trying to return me, if they ever could.

I asked what kind of work. They told me Policing. So here I am.

“I know the story Mickey, you’ve told me like nine times.” Karrie, my partner interjected.

I was well aware of that, I was practicing it for the new recruit, I told her as much and she laughed at me. Karrie was a great cop, but young and impertinent, she’d make a better criminal.

Like me, but smarter than I was at her age. Still a little brash.

“Listen, at least for a little while, try to keep it…” I waved my hand, searching for a polite way to tell her to can-it.

“Keep it on the down-low?” Karrie smiled at me as she asked. I nodded. “I’ll give you a week of polite, Gramps.”

“Oh, come on.” She knew I hated it when she called me that.

But she was just getting a last jab in before her agreement took hold, fair enough. The cart rolled through the Starport quietly, it was night. The docking ring was quiet too, whatever vessel had delivered our greenhorn was gone by now. The cart finished it’s route near a terminal building and I scanned around for a person, or some baggage.

“We’re gonna need a bigger cart.” Karrie noted with a dry indifference and she got my attention.

I turned and laid eyes on the first Trans-Human I’d seen in maybe twenty years, subjectively. Objectively, I hadn’t seen one in a century or more. She was tall, white fur, Lycanthropic. Long dark brown hair, and a body that looked poised to take on a powersuit. Even before, I’d never seen anyone like her, she was all at once frightening and wonderful. My stunned silence was taken for shock.

“Good evening.” She carried an entire life’s worth of luggage under her arms, and spoke so politely with a slavic accent.

“Welcome aboard.” My partner deftly took over the conversation. “We got enough space, Moreau?”

There was a tiny pause before she replied that there was, if only barely. The cart was more than a little off-balance. We made our way to the barracks building in silence, and with a curt promise to see us again in the morning, she left with her things to find her bunk. After a moment I turned to Karrie.

“Was that her name, do you know that?” I couldn’t remember us asking, or it being offered.

“It’s what they’re called.” My partner replied. “This is awesome, did you see her?”

“Um, yes.” My answer was about as sarcastic as I served them.

“Things are going to get so much easier around here.” Karrie seemed very excited. “Where did we find her?”

“I heard we were getting a volunteer.” That was all I knew.

In the morning our rookie presented herself for inspection. We had a few other greenhorns in training at the time, they were eyeballing her like they’d never seen anything like her before. Probably because they hadn’t, she didn’t seem bothered, probably used to it. She wasn’t in uniform I asked her why.

“I am wearing it, beneath, sir.” She replied. Her shirt was almost the right color, but inside-out to hide a logo.

“What are you, cold?” Karrie chastised. “Display your colors, cadet.”

She made a face, then began to pull her shirt off. The uniforms are a synthetic fabric that makes perfect workout wear, stretches to fit. The mesh was far from concealing when pulled around her massive frame.

“Belay that, cadet.” I said as I looked away. “That shirt will serve until we can procure a properly fitting uniform for you.”

One of the other cadets whistled at her, I shot their C.O. a glance and they were issued some laps to run. That morning we put her through a physical, I would have called it a waste of time, if she wasn’t so magnificent to watch. At some point Karrie took me aside and spoke with me.

“We shouldn’t contradict each-other in front of the cadets.” My partner said, in a sly tone.

“You shouldn’t ask them to strip.” I retorted.

“You’d have done the same to me, for not displaying colors.” Karrie was right.

“She is wearing them though.” My reply got a sideways glance from her.

“You’ve picked a dumb time to go soft.” Karrie laughed. “I don’t think our new Moreau will be bothered by a little rough treatment.”

I agreed hesitantly, as we watched her lap the other cadets again. Physically, she had all of us beat without trying, testing her resolve might have proven difficult because of that. But she proved herself anyway. She didn’t socialize with the other cadets, they began to think of her as aloof, until she started helping them on the course. She could run the obstacles faster than anyone else, even carrying someone.

We had a little get-together, at the bar preferred by our precinct, to put some celebration to the cadets getting their badges. Her padded palm dwarfed it, and she took a whole pitcher of beer for herself.

“I’d bet we get a drop in crime, just for showing you off a little.” Karrie told her after a few beers. Trying to get her to take part in the conversation.

“Perhaps.” Not sure if she agreed with that or not. Soft-spoken for someone so big.

“If I get too tipsy, will you carry me back to the barracks, please?” another of our new officers asked her, then blushed a little.

“Hrm, yes.” Shay smirked “But only because you’ve asked nicely.”

In the end, she did. Lucky kid. Her first shift was a couple of days later, that Monday. We managed to get her a properly fitting uniform, there didn’t seem to be a belt in the armoury that made it around her though. Another exception was made for her, she brought her own belt, but we made sure she only kept standard issue gear clipped to it. With the trigger guard removed, she was able to fire her sidearm. She wasn’t a very good shot with it though. We borrowed a larger cart from logistics and Shay rode in the back of it. It was parked in an alley on a corner of our patrol area, and we climbed out of it. We had a light-box with a siren built into it, in case we needed to stick it to the roof and use that truck for a chase.

“Okay, we’re on foot from here, Moreau. Keep your eyes peeled, this neighborhood is fucking terrible.” Karrie instructed.

Shay took point and we started to walk the streets, it was early morning so our first stop was this slum block. We weren’t actually going to stop, just walk by and let ‘em see. It was all hush as we went, would have been without Shay there. Next stop was the first real stop, this old bar, the owner was alright but he didn’t choose his clientele. We tried to give him a visit every once in a while, get the word. Monday morning was still Sunday night for some, a pair of drunks were doing everything in their power to kick the shit out of each-other out front of the bar. Despite their best efforts, they weren’t doing much of a job of it.

“You’re up, rookie.” A gesture from me and she was off. “Don’t hurt them, unless they need it.”

One of them saw her coming, the other managed a good hit in on his now stunned opponent before she got there. Shay grabbed the less attentive one by his shoulder and pulled him from his feet. The other lost his footing, and still hadn’t reacted to that slug to his eye. She pointed at him, while the other began to scream.

“Get up, come with me.” Shay scared him sober, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.

The compliant one followed her back to us while counting his toes, the other wasn’t getting anywhere trying to fight. Karrie ensured that the drunk felt remorse for what he’d done, and he most certainly did. Once he’d answered my partner’s questions we let him scamper away. His friend was getting tired, but still fighting for Shay to let him go.

“Should we arrest him?” Shay asked, gesturing with the man in her hand.

“Fuck that, we’ll be behind schedule all day.” Karrie said, then thought for a moment before addressing the man. “Hey shitstick! Get off it, we wanna let you go.”

Whatever was driving him to try and fight Shay, kept him from hearing Karrie’s offer. My partner and I shared a concerned look before we were interrupted. The middling levels of the station are built against structural members and the plating that separates more carefully planned areas. Strange geometric shapes that can easily fit a tier of construction, but not two. Tall ceilings and terraced areas, almost like being outdoors but for the sky just being more metal.

“Stop it!” Shay’s voice cracked into the air like a blast, loud and guttural. Echoing back and forth until it sounded like a pack of dogs in the distance.

He listened to her, and pissed his pants.

Shay let him go and he hit the deck with a splash, then started flailing and scrambling to get away. He found my partner’s boot with his shoulder and tried to grasp at her, Karrie slid him away with her heel. Back towards Shay.

“Calm down.” By comparison Shay was whispering, but still her voice was loud.

“You’ve been assaulting an officer for a few minutes there, well trying to.” I chimed in, the drunk shot me a horrified glance, before starting to tremble and returning his terrified gaze to Shay.

I suggested he try apologizing, he began to throw every single one he knew at her. Karrie noted with a smirk that we could probably get away with not charging him with anything. As long has he appeased Shay. He stammered some questions and started begging, got on his knees and everything. Shay knelt down and looked closely at him, sizing him up. I half expected a joke from my partner about trying to eat him or something.

“Do you have a home?” She eventually asked the piss-soaked drunk. He nodded and sobbed. “Spend more time there, and less in this state.”

Before she stood back up, she reached out and gave him a nudge to get him going. The drunk crab-walked most of his way down the street before making it to his feet.

“Not bad, rookie.” I commended. “Okay, let Karrie to the talking in here, sleazeball who runs this joint likes her.”

He mostly blew us off, volunteered a couple of things that we already knew. Warned us about some street gang we had eyes on as it was. Still talked to us though, so that’s good. Shay did her best to blend into the background, she wasn’t bad at it but she had her work cut out for her. I took a moment to talk with her, before we headed back out.

“You hate it yet?” The joke, we all ask. Seemingly regardless of what side of the law we’re on at the time.

“So far, this seems quite routine.” Shay replied simply.

The rest of her first day was. She seemed to be very astute. Tactful and intelligent, beyond just strong. She didn’t seem too far out of her element talking to people either. A sharp eye and a blunt talker. Fuck, I was falling in love with her. I figured it out halfway back to the barracks, giving her a lift after her shift.

“You’ll make a good officer.” I told her as we drove.

“Thank you sergeant Callahan.” She answered mechanically.

“We’re off duty, call me Mickey.” I’m an old fool, I stared into space after the words slipped out. Clawed at some kind of small talk. “So what put it into your head to volunteer at Colonia Dream, of all places?”

“I was in the area and in need of work.” Guarded, plain. She didn’t trust me, fair enough.

“I had a speech ready for you, but I forgot to say any of it when I saw.” I sort of trailed off.

“Do not worry. This happens often, with me.” Shay was being polite.

“You wouldn’t tell me how you got here if I asked. But I’ll tell you my story, if you want.” Another attempt to get my speech out.

“You were a criminal back in The Bubble.” She saw through me.

“How the hell…?” That was the first time she let a bit of herself show.

“I was a bounty hunter, before.” She sighed. “Perhaps in the future, again as well. I am very good at reading people, and reading up on them.”

“Well fuck.” I surmised, surprised.

I asked her what brought her to us again, but she dodged the question. Quite skillfully I might mention, moved forward with the conversation. I didn’t notice for a minute or two that she’d done so. Once we were at the barracks she bid me a good night and left. I watched her go, maybe a little protectively. She was so mysterious, I couldn’t help but long for her.

I made a habit of giving her lifts back home.

She found a niche fast, we sort of started using her as a step-up when full-tac was too much. Shay was good at calming people down, using her size to de-escalate. Karrie wanted to see what she could really do, as my partner put it. Shay shrugged her off. Our jurisdiction wasn’t big, but densely populated, the cheap-seats. Colonia Dream was one of the first places out here to have slums, an odd need to be purposely fulfilled. Word spread fast that we had her on staff, a little rumbling from the people. Less that I’d have expected, at first. Most of the other officers were too intimidated to be anything other than nice to her. Karrie wanted to fucking marry her, the way she went on. Shay was guarded, but once she opened up a bit, she was a people person. Or she was great at faking it, I couldn’t tell.

After a long day, maybe a month later, I found out she had a kid. It was an accident. We were actually shooting the shit during the cart ride, blowing off steam from an endless shift of stupid petty crap. As we pulled up to the barracks, Shay went quiet, a little cold. It took me a minute to notice, she was staring at the little patch of lot out front on the building. A little girl was sitting there, occupying herself with some toy. Shay didn’t wait for the cart to stop, just hopped out and galloped to her.

Shay stowed her fear while the girl welcomed her home, eventually directing Shay’s attention to one of the staff of the barracks who was watching from the doorway. Clearly relieved that nothing was amiss, Shay still had this friend of hers explain how much the little girl wanted to see her arrive home. She wanted to see the cart. Shay was too focussed to say a farewell to me, just collected the kid and went inside. I don’t really think Shay was hiding this kid, just being guarded about her, like she was about most everything. I don’t know how Karrie found out, or what she said to Shay.

“That Moreau has some fucking attitude.” My partner told me during lunch one day.

“What did you say to her?” I said through some sandwich.

“Fuck you! Nothing, I just asked if this knee-biter she’s got is fuzzy too.” After a few angry bites she added. “You seen the kid?”

“No.” Sometimes I lie to Karrie, just to see if she can tell. “Didn’t know she had a kid.”

“Well, then you’re no help.” She never seemed to. “She doesn’t have to be a bitch about it, I love kids.”

“Maybe she’s just protective or something... Maybe, you came at her a little strong.” I suggested, as nicely as I could.

“Eat me Gramps. I would never do such a fucking thing.” My partner initiated a contest; to see who could keep a straight face longer.

I won, but I had to slowly take a bite of my sandwich. A risky maneuver, it payed off though.

In her second or third Sol on the service, some sack of trash painted some slurs on the barracks door. Never found out who it was, but I don’t think we were looking in the right places. Shay cleaned the graffiti away before anyone really got a good look at it. Never mentioned it to anyone without being prompted first. I tried to offer something like condolences a few days after, she wouldn’t hear it. Said she’d had worse, and that whoever it was was probably just blowing off steam. She was lying, really well. If she had the chance, whoever it was would have been torn apart. But she had responsibilities that precluded that. She had to bottle it up.

I saw her in a riot once, she was amazing, so good at handling it that we did an inquiry about use of force afterwards. I’m kidding, we always do that after a riot. It wasn’t a big one, something localized to one factory block. Got out of hand well before we got there, private security tried to contain it past the point they should have given up. They had hostages, but walking in, we weren’t completely sure about that. Fires had been started, and the fire suppression rigs on-station were tied up that day. The situation was going to be dealt with by hand, or allowed to get out of hand.

We managed to get some tac-gear wrapped around her, mostly her front. She brought a holdout gun of her own, not standard, but we didn’t have time to fight her about it. Huge, looked like some kind of powersuit job, revolver with a hammer. We got a helmet onto her head, but she didn’t like it, it didn’t work with the visor on either. All of us had shields and batons, the plan was to take the courtyard, Put out the fires we could find, then figure out a next step. Shay didn’t fit in the Personel Carrier, well she would have alone, but that didn’t work. She was riding on the outside, rest of us inside. Something hit the truck when we rolled up, as we piled out it was clear that it was a firebomb.

Shay hadn’t waited for orders, she didn’t have the time from out there. The first firebomb must have hit the Personel Carrier after she’d dodged it. By the time we were outside she was already halfway across the lot. A second firebomb sailed towards her, and she took it out of the air with her shield, immediately throwing the burning panel of plastic aside.

“Form up on Shay!” I don’t know who issued this command, but it was the only one worth following. So we did.

She’d set her sights on the fool trying to light another bottle of oil, in a short sprint she’d cut through the mob. The bottle, the lighter, his wrists, if I remember correctly his sternum too, were all shattered by the stun baton we’d given her when she used it to take the rioter off his feet with a two-handed swing. Several more taken down when he hit them. With her help we managed to break the mob in two. By the time a support unit was pulling up, there was a stream of rioters giving up and trying to leave for them to mop up. Some die-hards took up in the foyer of the main building.

A little attempt at negotiating began, they fucked it up though. Told us they had hostages by shooting one. We had to move in then. Shay wanted point, but I gave it to Rourke, more experience. Rourke had more experience on point.

Fuckers had an autogun. So did Rourke, she took two down with her. I got another, I didn’t see but Karrie got one too. Then we fell back.

Shay didn’t hear us, I thought. She stayed. We were halfway pulled out when Karrie reqlized and headed back in. I kept pulling the rest of the team out, regroup in the courtyard. That’s the plan. We didn’t have time to, before a broken body was thrown through the doorway into our midst.

Not the one who had the autogun, another. His spine was snapped, jaw dislocated. A second one in no better shape came tumbling after him, not thrown with as much force. In a moment, Karrie marched most of the rest out at gunpoint. Then Shay came out with Rourke’s body cradled in one arm, dragging the one who’d shot her with her other hand. Shay had been peppered with the autogun, tiny bloody spots on her arms and shoulders, flesh-wounds, if that. The rounds that made their way through the vest barely bruised her.

She wrote in her report that she thought Rourke might have only been disabled, and was trying to recover her from the hot-zone. She also said in her report that taking down everyone in that room was an acceptable step in doing so. The cop-killer lived, but Shay did a number on him. I thought she came out of there with two corpses. Shay attended the trial, and the funeral. Spoke at both. For Rourke she said something simple of how much the woman had achieved. For the cop-killer she petitioned lenience, rehabilitation for his life as well as body. I thought these were nice gestures. Nobody picked a fight with her after the funeral.

The cop-killer had a family, evidently about as scummy as him. One of them didn’t take too well to Shay’s presence at the trial and got themselves arrested for taking some swings at her. Shay wrapped them up in a bear-hug and walked them over to booking. We wanted to slap them with assault on an officer, but Shay insisted that no harm was done and she was not interested in pressing charges. I’d driven her there, so I gave her a lift home.

“Do you have any napkins in here?” She asked about halfway there.

“Uhh, tissues in the glove-box.” A gesture alongside my answer.

“Thanks you.” Shay pulled a large handful of them out, and balled them tightly.

“You sick or…” I turned to look.

Shay had just pulled a small knife out her her belly and was pressing the wad of tissues to the wound.

“Oh shit, okay medbay.” I muttered as I reached for the console to plug in the route.

“No. Not necessary. This is just a scratch.” Insistent, honest.

“That piece of shit back at the courthouse?” Not really a question.

“No.” Still insistent, but Shay was clearly lying.

“Bullshit. What are you doing?” I had no idea what Shay was playing at.

“I am not harmed, this knife had no chance of doing so. Two lives from that family do not need to be destroyed today.” Shay explained it to me, a little over my head at the time.

“That’s up to them.” After my reply, she winced a little. I don’t know if it was because of what I’d said, or the hole in her gut.

“And today, it is also up to me.” Shay gave me a frighteningly severe look, it sent a tingle through me.

I dropped it, figured she could learn for herself that she didn’t owe them anything, if she was so set on it.

Maybe later that year, maybe even later than that, I forget. Some market rush was pulling Commanders through the area, made us really busy. Lots of checks, hours and hours of trying to size up lies. Shay was good at it, too good for her own good, she was letting us overwork her. Karrie was being herself about it, throwing loud praise at Shay all day and night. Shay didn’t seem to mind, not for a couple of weeks. Then after a shift, we talked her into joining us for a drink. Karrie opened up again, going on about how Shay could probably smell if people were lying. Shay suddenly but politely asked her to drop it.

When my partner pressed for an explanation, Shay just said that she’d rather not talk about work. Karrie agreed, one of the few tactful decisions I've ever seen from my partner. She couldn’t tell that Shay was lying, my partner had struck a chord with her, and she was quite upset about it. In the end we had a pretty good night though. One of the other newbies, who joined up around when Shay did, he suggested a drinking contest. I officiated, so I could live the next day.

It was a slaughter, officers down in two’s and three’s, bodies strewn over tables and laid out on the floor. Like I said, a good night. That kid who’d started this mess did better than I’d thought. He started speaking what I hope was his native language after a while, nobody was sure. By the time he finally caved, he couldn’t even talk anymore, just pull the shots. Then not even that.

“He hass proven himsself.” Shay’s words, slurred and whistling through her teeth, conveyed a drunken pride for her classmate.

“He’ish dead, fuckin’ gone.” Karrie tried, and failed, to push him off his stool. His weight proved too much. “‘Nother shots!”

It was just the two of them now.

A pair of rounds each, without pause. Karrie took a moment to clear her head. A third and they both stared at one another, keeping as steady as they could. Shay suggested they call it a draw, I would have concurred.

“Fuck you, no’n your life Moreau.” Karrie fumbled for her next shot. “Put up, shut up.”

Shay followed her lead, took the shot. Then Karrie went for another, missed the pour. Shay moved to help her but my partner tried to fight her off. Ended up on the floor, cradling the bottle like a doll, liquor spilling everywhere. Shay followed Karrie to the ground, though with at least some modicum of grace. She laid beside her and started to giggle, then rolled Karrie onto her side. My partner passed out while the Trans-Human laughed in her booze soaked face, the pair of them lying on the floor of the bar.

Not sure who won, if I’m honest, I called Shay the winner, but noted that she ended up on the floor with the same number of shots. She was awake, but still a tough call. I know the desk jockey who came along as designated driver lost though. That much is clear, he never joined us again. I got Karrie home, Shay helped as best she could. She sorta woke up a couple of times, seemed really proud of herself, got a congratulation or five from Shay, for whatever she thought she'd achieved. Then she’d pass back out. Once we were at her apartment, we put Karrie in a chair in her front hall and locked the door behind us. Put her key through the mailslot. All routine.

Shay took a nap while the cart took us back to the barracks. I noticed when I asked her a question. The rest of our ride was silent. I had to wake her up once we were there. She’s a light sleeper, woke with a little start.

“Oh thanks.” She took a minute, sobering up a little. “That was fun.”

“It was, you can join us more often, you know.” I think that was only the second time.

“No, I should not.” Shay lamented. “Thank you though, Mickey.”

“Why not?” She didn’t answer me. “It would be easier to get a babysitter, if you admitted you had a kid.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Under her breath, she muttered.

“You won’t tell me.” I implored.

“I know, this is by design.” Shay explained, with a sudden sober intensity.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I’m not trying to pry.” We sat in silence for a little while.

“What did you do, back in The Bubble, Mickey?” She took a minute to ask, maybe for her maybe for me.

I usually glazed over it for people, kept things vague enough for them to fill in whatever they thought was acceptable. Shay was from the same side as I was, she would know better, see through that trick.

“I busted skulls for a crime family, but that was a couple hundred years ago.” A breath to steady myself. “Lower level than I’d like to think, lots of skulking around, finding things out.”

“You cut your teeth well.” Shay response surprised me. Honest appraisal, not severe or judgmental. Then she gave me a deeper look, just for a moment. “What twist of fate deposited you here, for this opportunity?”

“Somebody calling themselves a freedom fighter followed a story from the back of their own head, blew open a prison transport and took me out here.” An involuntary shudder, let out by what alcohol I had consumed. “Last time I checked, only a couple Imperial Slaves from that stockpile have been ‘Freed’. Only me and a few other ‘Lucky’ ones were worth thawing.”

“You are right to consider yourself lucky.” She sighed. “Many are less so. All is relative.”

“Relatively lucky.” She chuckled a little, thought I was joking.

“Next time, try asking to kiss me or something instead.” She laughed at me. “Maybe less awkward that way.”

She was a few steps away from the cart when she stopped and turned around. She told me that my partner is an asshole who’s lucky to have me. Then she stumbled back into the barracks building.

Shay’s secrets were sloppily kept, easy to worm out answers for. The staff of the barracks building knew plenty. Her room had neighbors in the hallway, easy to talk to those officers too. She bought groceries on the same level of the Port she lived on, practical but easy to follow. The kid was in school, could have asked around there.

I didn’t though. Decided instead to respect her attempted privacy. Maybe I just didn’t want to piss her off.

I hate counting years, it makes everything seem so damn finite. It was another couple of them when Shay finally talked about why she was at Colonia Dream. The only day off she ever requested, I found her at the precinct bar late that night. She had a weird dopey smile on her face, but she’d been crying, didn’t even bother trying to cover it when she saw me. I asked her if everything was okay.

“Everything is wonderful. My niece is going to be a Commander.” She gestured for me to sit, and ordered a round of drinks for us.

“How many years has it taken you to admit that kid is your niece?” Laughed, I probably should have stowed it, but I couldn’t help but to laugh a little.

“I am Valentina’s honorary aunt, her parents are good friends of mine.” With a gulp of her drink and a fleeting glance my way, Shay began in earnest to share. “She makes me so proud, she does so well in school. She will make a fantastic Commander.”

Shay was watching her friends’ daughter, had been for a few years. Kid’s parents were notorious Commanders of some kind, I’d never heard of either of them, but Shay figured a thin veneer of secrecy would be good for the kid, probably right about that. Now that time was spent and the call of the void was taking the kid away. Pilots Federation, kid must be good in school, they’d let her into the academy younger than most. Shay had sent her off with a trusted space-trucker she’d known for years.

“Sounds like you’ve done good, Auntie Shay.” I jabbed, Shay smiled.

“Thank you Mickey, I certainly hope so.” She finished her drink.

I want to say she stayed for another year. I want to say she never left, but she stayed for about another year. Then she disappeared one night. Nobody knows where she went, nobody saw her after her shift.

Nobody else, but I was sworn to secrecy.

She showed up at my apartment in the small hours of the morning, not frantic but running on adrenaline. She invited herself in and washed some blue stuff off of her hands, for a horrible moment I thought it was blood. She told me it was the sealing fluid from inside a flight suit. That was all the explanation I got from her. Once her hands were clean, she turned on me, held me by my shoulders and looked me straight in my eyes.

“If you knew I was going to be gone tomorrow, what would you ask me now?” Her lips were nearly brushing on my cheek, I felt a shock of cool air on her intake of breath.

She was holding me against the wall of my kitchen, one corner of my apartment for cooking. I looked around the cubic space, a small bed, a dresser, the front door. Then I looked back at Shay, patiently longing, just like me.

“I would have to ask, if we even have the space in here?” When I spoke, she smiled. She so rarely did.

“We will make it work.” Shay declared.

I never saw her again. Hear from her every once in a while, she has her own place on a moon now. I always say I’ll visit, but it’s a little far away. Her niece is doing well, has her own ship, last I heard.

Part Three

If Uncle Allan ever hears that I did this trip docked to a ferry, he’ll never let me live it down. He’s already making a big deal about “Commander Valence’s First Mission” like I didn’t have to take work to pay for this ticket, or something. At least I managed to talk to Dad on a live feed, before I had to go. Where is Leigh?

She got up and looked around the cockpit of her ship. A futile gesture, her friend wasn’t onboard. A new Commander, and her new ship, recently traded from her entry level loaner. Her frame was constructed well, clad carefully in high tech materials to protect from the void, black in color and form fitted to the shape underneath. The Cobra Mark Three had no external adornments, it was already the pinnacle of nondescript. It’s owner chose to adorn herself with an oversized hooded sweatshirt, to better match this subdued quality of her vessel.

Leigh was nearby, found before too long at a small bar near the docking section. It was closely adjacent to a larger and busier pub, so Commander Valence correctly decided to check there first. Her friend was sitting at a table, drinking with a pair of spacers. Valence tensed up as she saw. Her friend called out to her when she saw Valence.

“Speak of the devil, come take a seat Commander.” Leigh nearly shouted.

“Hi, what’s happening.” Great, I have to talk to people and I’m the devil. Thanks Leigh. “Oh uhh, Thanks Leigh.”

Her friend pushed a drink across the table for Valence, who drank from it after only a fraction of a hesitation. The new Commander quickly scanned the table; Leigh with her short cropped hair and bright red flighsuit, then these two spacers clad in plain greys but not matching. Probably Commanders, but there was no telling.

“So your friend tells us you’ve got a ship.” Oh, that’s how we’re opening this? “That’s fairly impressive, at your age.”

“Okay, see that there.” Leigh elbowed Valence a little and gestured at the one who’d spoke. “That one’s yours.”

The spacer looked deflated, embarrassed. His ally burst out laughing.

“Well shit, I guess the jig is up.” The mirthful spacer turned his attention to Leigh. “I bet it’s a Sidey.”

“Oh, slander? Defend yourself Commander Valence!” Stop jabbing my ribs, I get it, fuck.

“It’s a Cobra, thank you very much.” This drink has too much soda in it.

“Daddy’s money?” He inquired boldly. His fellow Spacer was aghast, Leigh amused.

“Paid for by the sweat of my own brow.” You fucking cunt. “If I’m bein’ honest, she helped.”

“Pfft, barely.” Leigh deflected.

“So, what’s Colonia got for you two?” The more polite one tried to change the subject.

“That’s a question for her, I’m just crew.” Leigh avoided it. Give me the tough questions, why don’t ya.

“Nothin’ not going that far.” Valence muttered into her drink.

“How far are you going then?” Shit, now he’s interested.

“Sacagawea Spaceport.” Ugh, he’s just gonna ask. “Visiting family.”

“Nice.” The Polite Spacer acknowledged. “We’re headed back out to Colonia, dropped off some people.”

“We’re from Colonia.” The Brash Spacer chimed in. With a shit eating grin on his face.

“Ooh, how exotic.” Leigh re-joined the conversation. Oh boy, here we go. “Tell me more.”

“It’s so pretty there, a little boring, but quiet. You’d like it.” He said to her.

“Shit, close but no cigar. You had me until ‘Quiet’ Also I hated it there.” The Spacer was blindsided, Valence couldn’t stop herself and laughed.

“Wait wait, hang on.” The polite one stifled laughter of his own to ask. “What’s to hate about Colonia?”

“My folks live there.” Without missing a beat, Leigh ordered another round.

The Brash Spacer and Leigh eventually excused themselves, The Spacer pair had brought their own ship. Leigh had declared that Valence could bring the other one back to her own vessel, if she wanted to.

“I’m not going to fuck you, so you can leave if you want.” Valence told him, once they were alone.

“Ouch, geez. Sorry.” There was an awkward silence. “Our friends seemed more aligned with that plan anyway.”

“Yeah.” Valence shot him a tiny smile. “So where are you actually from?”

“Eravate. So is he, but he likes to bullshit about it. What about you? You don’t strike me as from Colonia.”

“I’m not... What gives you that impression?” After a moment of hesitation, Valence asked.

“Your accent sounds a little bit Altairian. I’d guess you're from there, or somewhere near it in the old Federation.” He explained.

“Nope.” Get told that a lot, though. “Born in the Deep-Black.”

“Nice, a nebula outpost.” The Polite Spacer inquired further.

“About halfway back from Colonia, a few thousand light years below the meat of the galactic plane.” Oh shit, he’s impressed. “So I was told.”

“That’s really interesting.” He fawned a little.

“Still not gonna fuck ya.” Valence reminded him.

“Right yeah, not much for small talk either?” Valence replied by shaking her head. “Alright, well I’ll be around if you change your mind. About either.”

Creep. Also, Leigh. She’s a creep too.

It was very early the next morning, when Leigh returned to Valence’s ship. The Commander was still awake, a bout of insomnia. Her friend stumbled to her bunk and strapped down for the night. In her own bunk, listening to her friend snore, Valence was able to drift off as well.

They’d been sharing a cabin for years now, since a computer randomly allotted them a  room together at the academy. They had become fast friends, sharing many interests and disdains. Doing their best to help one-another in whatever areas of study it was needed. Valence was not the better pilot, though both excelled at it, she was the more studious one. Leigh being the more outgoing of the pair. I know how to cook though, Leigh loves it when I cook.

---

Another test taken and Leigh was sure she’d failed it. She’d visited the campus bar, hoping to take her mind off the situation, some themed evening was at hand there. Leigh had found herself without the energy to even learn what it was, let alone conform to it just to get some liquor and a lay. A short and angry walk back to the dorms and she was ready to give up for the night.

Their room smelled wonderful, sweet and with a fluttery tinge of cooked butter and alcohol. Leigh took pause in the doorway.

“I made pancakes, there’s way too much, on the counter.” Valentina, her roommate called out from somewhere unseen, her mouth sounding full. “Syrup in the pan, should still be hot.”

Leigh had never heard of Pancakes, but a few steps into the kitchen explained everything to her. Her roommate had taken a sweet syrup, store-bought, and mixed it in a small saucepan with butter and bourbon. She’d sweated a few diced berries into that syrup too. Carefully taking a few cakes onto a plate, Leigh was attempting to drizzle them using a small spoon, when her roommate called out again.

“Finish the syrup if you want, and bring a glass, I’ve got the bottle out here.” Valentina’s words had sent a tingle through Leigh.

Bringing her plate into the middle room of their suite, Leigh found Valentina already seated on the small couch there, reclining with a half eaten plate and watching a holo-show. On the table, beside the projected image, was a bottle of Indi Bourbon. Leigh stared at it as she sat down.

“Is that in this?” She asked. And gestured

“Yeah, it was a gift. Did you bring a glass?” Was Valentina’s answer.

Leigh held up the empty drinking vessel, and her roommate unhesitantly poured a large quantity of the expensive liquor for her. For a moment, she looked at it, then hesitantly set the glass aside. Leigh took a bite of her pancakes, fluffy and soaked in the sweet and tart syrup. A tiny slice of heaven. Valentina noticed how ravenously her roommate ate, a gesture she decided to appreciate, though she wasn’t sure how Leigh could enjoy her food that fast.

Once they had both cleared their plates, and after a short insistence from Leigh, they raised their glasses. Neither could think of a toast, so they simply tapped their cups together. Valentina took a small sip from hers, while Leigh took about a third of her glass. They put the drinks back on the table, and Leigh swirled the bourbon around her tongue for nearly a full minute. Immediately after swallowing, she turned to her roommate.

“I’ve never had Indi before, it’s not as sweet as people say, kinda peppery. I like it.” She was halfway through adding that it didn’t seem that strong when it made it to her head.

Leigh stammered a little and then blushed. Valentina laughed, so did her roommate. They took up their glasses again. This time both of them sipped.

“Who sent you this, you have some guy I’ve never heard of?” A sly question from Leigh.

“You’ve met my uncle.” Valence replied with a snort.

“Oh yeah.” With a chuckle, Leigh took another sip. “Thanks for, stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.” With a sly smile of her own, Valentina added. “Do the dishes.”

“Yes ma’am.” Drunkenly, Leigh saluted her roommate. “I’ll do your dishes.”

“Don’t be gross, Leigh.” Valence stifled a giggle.

“I set out tonight to be fed and liquored up, and to give oral sex to whoever was able to provide.” Ignoring her roommate groaning into the palm of her hand, Leigh stood up on the couch as she made her announcement.

“Stop it!” Valentina begged.

“Don’t say that, you’ll just encourage me!”

Leigh, still standing on the couch, quickly finished her drink. Then she bent down and carefully placed the empty glass on the table. The roommates engaged in a short battle of silence and exchanged glances, eventually ending when Valentina sighed exuberantly and placed her half-full glass onto the table beside Leigh’s empty one. Then Leigh pounced on her roommate.

For a short while they wrestled, Valence putting up a vague fight. Leigh managing to land a short kiss on her forehead. They played for a few more minutes, before something in the holo-show caught Valentina’s attention and she asked Leigh to back off. Usually she would comply and retreat to her side of the couch, usually she would contemplate how far she might push refusing to follow orders. That night, she instead gently laid across Valentina, but kept her hands to herself. I wish I’d kicked her off, I wish she’d do that again.

---

The ferry was a colossal edifice of luxury spaces cargo holds and interstellar drive systems. An old Mega-ship but purpose built at great expense, recently bought up and refurbished. It’s inaugural journey had been nearly a year previous. The somewhat underwhelming response of the traveling public had led to a stark drop in the price of a voyage on it. The corporation was saving face, and doing what it could to bolster sales, by attempting to create a celebratory ‘Anniversary Pricing’ motif. Convenience and an inexpensive upgrade to include expenses had proven the attractive promise to Commander Valence. She had taken to spending time at the nearest cafe or pub to the bay her Cobra was in, depending on the time.

Leigh was spending time all over the massive vehicle, chasing what escapades she found to fruition or boredom, then on to another. Living it up. Enjoying her available leisure, to the fullest. Sat as a small booth, watching a byway littered with passing pedestrians, Valence drank another coffee, killing time.

“Hi, I’m the guy from the bar, I might have been a bit of an ass.” The Rude Spacer had approached Valence while she was distracted, he was offering a handshake.

“A bit?” Sarcastically spat, Valence accepted his handshake begrudgingly. “What do you want?”

“Looking for your friend.”

“She blew you off.” Her reply was met with some questioning. Poor moron. “No like, she just does that. Sorry, I’m sure you know the drill, just try your luck again.”

“Okay, fair enough.” The Space sat down across from her. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Oh…” Gottdamnit, walked into it, fuck. “No dude, nice try and all. But no, sorry.”

“Fine, you can’t blame me for trying.” He drummed his hands on the table for a moment. “You eaten here, how’s the food?”

“Don’t order anything fancier than the fried hash, and you’ll be fine.” You could get your own fucking table too.

He decided on a basic breakfast plate, cheap and filling. Reliably tasty across known space, and comes with coffee. Well he’s not a total rookie Spacer, at least. His meal came promptly, and Valence refreshed her coffee. The Spacer took to his food quickly. At least he’s using his fork, could be worse I guess. Just don’t talk with your mouth full.

“So did you, end up hooking up with my friend?” I hate you.

“No.” Valence didn’t bother hiding it when she rolled her eyes at him.

“What, why not?” He asked between bites.

“Look, I’m gonna go, I don’t really feel like talking to anyone right now.” She started to stand up, quickly draining as much of her cup as she could.

“Oh, sorry.” After a tiny moment looking at his food, the Spacer turned back to Valence. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s like a cruise and all, you just sort-of assume everyone’s in a party mood. My bad.”

Valence muttered something halfway between a thanks and an apology as she excused herself from the diner. She wandered back to her ship, lost in melancholy thoughts. Leigh was waiting for her, with most of a bottle of some clear distillate in hand. She greeted her friend exuberantly, Valence returned the greeting but with less vigor.

“I’ve been up all night, you wanna drink?” Leigh asked as she held out the bottle.

“Yeah sure.” Stifling a chuckle, Valence took up her friend's offer.

After a few swigs and some small talk, Leigh stared to her left for a few moments, silently examining an empty bulkhead. Then she turned back, and with a slightly manic smile she spoke.

“You know, it’s actually really funny. I just got my ninth lay of this trip, and I’m still lonely.” Her laugh caught in her throat, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Can I see that?” Procuring the bottle, Valence sealed and secured it. “It’s alright Leigh, you’re just drunk.”

“I’m only a little drunk.” Liar. “I just think it’s really funny, right? Like, ironic. That’s all. It’s not like a big deal, just funny.”

Valence leaned over and consoled her sobbing friend. Holding her while she let the alcohol draw out her sorrows. For only a fleeting whimsical moment, Valence entertained ideas of letting the situation blossom into one from some late-night holo-show. But only that fleeting thought, she dreaded what ramifications reality would throw onto such a decision. Slowly Leigh’s wailing subsided into a more subdued melancholy, inebriated and tired, she eventually fell asleep cradled in her friends arms. Oh Leigh, why do you have to be such a mess?

After nearly dozing off herself, Valence managed to sneak out from the embrace of her slumbering friend. She procured something edible from the Chef in her ship, and paired her meal with Leigh’s discarded booze. When her friend would eventually awake, neither would mention her outburst, they never did.

---

Beta Class was quite prestigious, not quite the height of Alpha Class, but noteworthy nonetheless. Valentina’s father was proud when he heard she’d made it into one of the top three groups of the flight school, and ecstatic when she’d moved up to the middle tier. She was happy that he was happy, he was proud to see her excel with an opportunity he never had. Leigh’s prowess had pushed Valentina onward, keeping up with her friend. Alpha Class was only for the very best though, and Valentina and Leigh both knew she would only burn herself out gunning for it. Leigh did her best to be humble, something that was very difficult for her to do. Valentina attempted to only show her happiness for her friend, and none of the bitterness she felt.

Backstabbing shitwipe! One of Valentina’s teammates, in a simulated educational skirmish, had pulled forward from her flank and peppered her target to finality. Stole my kill!

As the simulated heads up display informed her and the rest of her squad, that their mission was complete and to prepare for the simulation to end, Valentina’s impatient teammate reared his rendered vessel to a relative halt. She loosed the blast from her weapons she’d had saved for the stolen target. As the simulation broke down around them, it often lost synchronization, as such it was generally accepted that most everything that happens after the warning was simply an accident. It was also a regularly taken opportunity to make known certain feelings, as Valentina had just done. She expected to have some explaining to do, for her antics. Might not have hit him, on his end.

She prepared her defence, more of a verbal attack. She planned to call out his poor sportsmanship, and his lack of respect for his squad lead, her. Then as she came around the curved corridor to where his simulation pod branched off, she found him. He already had a group of their classmates at his side. Her stride wavered, and then he spoke up.

“You didn’t have to shoot at me, I just got a little antsy.” His defence was backed with a miniaturized uproar.

“Didn’t see you on my end.” Valentina said, with a practiced monotone.

He and several others protested, she just walked past them. The theory session afterwards was tense, and Valentina was quick to leave once dismissed. Just get back to our room, there’s leftovers, I’ll make a sandwich. Me and Leigh can watch something funny.

Valentina walked quickly through the campus block, eager to put her plan into motion. Her classmate cut through her thoughts when he called her name. She turned to look, for only a fraction of a second thinking to bolt like a startled animal, but he was waving rather amicably and lightly jogging to catch up with her.

“Uh, what- What’s up?” Valentia called out her question.

“Back in class, that’s not how I thought that would go. Sorry about that.” He explained, a shy smile on his face.

“What did you think would happen?” You dumb asshole.

“I figured you’d say ‘Hey what gives?” and I’d say ‘I was trying to impress you.’ And then we’d be talking.” He smiled, belaying his confidence, then shrugged.

“Are you... “ She tilted her head as she pondered him, he mimicked her and caused Valentina to pause.

He giggled. The cunt.

“Yeah, I’m asking you out.” He said. With a slimy smile.

“No.” Valentina turned away and began to walk.

“What do you want me to do?” He implored.

“What does that mean?” Whirling around, she demanded an explanation.

“Tell me what you want, I’ll do it for you.” He almost made an inroad there. “Whatever it is, I must have you.” Almost.

“I want you to get as far away from me as you can, so that I don’t have to watch you go fuck yourself.” She grimaced at him.

“Ooh, how nice. I’ll figure you out, I like a girl who doesn’t make it easy.” He stepped closer.

“Back off.” She warned.

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you aren’t a little interested?” He sounded a little hurt, but still walked towards her.

“I said back off!” She was stepping backwards and keeping her stance wide, he noticed and stopped with an apologetic expression. “It’s late. You’re coming on a little fucking strong. Sorry if I’m overreacting, but I’m not in the gottdamn mood tonight.”

“Okay, sorry.“ He held up his hands. “Round two tomorrow, I’ll bring soft and nice. My bad Sweetie.”

She stared daggers into his spine as he walked away, deep breaths until her pulse returned to normal. A dumb cunt, but just that. Too stupid and proud to realize what a piece of shit he is. She re-enabled the safety on her pistol, still hidden with her hands inside the pocket of her sweatshirt. On her return, Valentina found her roommate already absorbed in a holo-show. She joined her after retrieving something to eat.

“Heard you’re starting shit.” Leigh announced suddenly, late in the evening.

“You heard wrong.” A curt denial.

“Is it a boy?” After a long hesitant moment, Valentina nodded. “You wanna fuck him?”

“Other way around.” Almost a growl.

“Oh, okay. That all makes sense.” Leigh laughed. “Well, either fuck him, or fuck him up. Them’s your options.”

“I told him to pound sand.” Declared with a tone of finality, Valenina hoped that would be all.

“He won’t.” Leigh watched her roommate sullenly nod in agreement. “If he doesn’t take hints, go a little border-world on his ass.”

“No…” Hesitantly nodding. “I’ll just tell him no again, if he makes me.”

“Okay, good luck.” After a small sigh, Leigh added. “You can tag me in, if he makes you.”

The next day’s theory sessions seemed routine at first, but Valentina found him waiting for her. Blocking the entrance to her simulator. He bowed theatrically.

“Please, my Lady. Allow me to introduce myself.” His introduction procured rolled eyes from her. “I am Laertes Olighieri. Could I trouble a Lady for her name?”

“You know my name’s Valentina.” All the pompe, like I needed more reasons to hate him.

“But, a Lady obscures her house. A strange thing for an Imperial Lady to do.” He smiled a knowing smile as he straightened his back.

“I have no house, I’m no Imperial Lady.” Valentina shot back with disgust. “I don’t know what you think you know but-”

“It’s okay, I’ve no judgement my Lady.” Laertes grinned. “I’d be a little obscure about it too.”

He looked me up, don’t know how, some bullshit I’d bet. Fucking slimy cunt tried to tell me I should be proud of my name, I should have told him worse than ‘Class is starting”. He was relentless, the first time I straight-up told him to fuck off, he just smiled and asked if we should duel it out in the Simulator. I don’t think I should have done it, he might have been letting me toast him, I don’t know. After almost two months of this bullshit he finally pushed his luck at the campus bar, while Leigh was with me. I shouldn’t have taken her up on her offer.

“Holy fuck, just go away!” Having already had a few drinks with her roommate, Valentina was beyond tact.

“We could practically rule the galaxy together, just think about it!” Laertes’ response was to continue his pitch unabated.

“You know what.” She turned to Leigh, ignoring him. “That was it, it just happened. You’re in.”

With a drunken resignation, Valentina patted her friend on the shoulder. Leigh shared an acknowledging glance as she finished her drink. Then she leapt from her seat, taking the still aggrandizing Laertes to the ground in a single fell swoop. Valentina barely had time for the thin smile to slip off her face before her roommate had started to rain punches onto him.

“Fuck, holy shit, no!” Valentina stumbled trying to untangle from her seat to intervene. Like I had much to bring to that.

One of his friends from Beta Class stepped in, landing a well aimed kick and throwing Leigh off of him. The newcomer stepped over his downed ally, readying for a proper round of the fight he’d joined. As Leigh faced him a mote of hesitation crossed his face, he’d clearly thought he’d just kicked a man. Shouldn’t have held back, he fucked up. You don’t get away with shit like that with my Leigh.

A troupe of bouncers had to intervene, pulled apart Leigh and the third one, who’d joined in to try to rescue Laertes’ friend. In the aftermath Laertes was uninterested in pressing charges, but Leigh was still dropped from her classes. The Pilots Academy understood her situation, and agreed to let her remain in her dormitory until the end of the semester. I felt sick, I could barely look at her. But Leigh never saw it like that. She coached me, snuck into the simulator with me, during off-class hours. She would have got me into Alpha with those scores, but it was too late in the semester by then. She wasn’t supposed to be allowed into school events, but I used my invite to get her to graduation, Dad had to watch on holo-feed anyway.

---

Their last night aboard the ferry, Leigh hoped for some party to crash. Finding nothing suitable, she’d become frustrated. Valence had stumbled onto something suitable, a strange eatery with a bar and specialty for breakfast foods. A little high-priced for what it is, but worth it that night. Commander Valence ordered for them both, and received a quizzical look from Leigh for it.

Pancakes, a stack of them each, topped with a berry and syrup sauce. This restaurant used Eranin Pearl Whiskey in their recipe, and served it alongside. Leigh had no complaints, in fact she was taken aback by the gesture.

“Oh wow, if I’d known I would have dolled up.” Leigh hesitated, looking at her meal.

“Known what?” Valence took a moment between bites to ask.

“That this was a date.” They laughed.

Shortly thereafter they were off and flying. On their way to the prescribed destination, Valence had copied it down knowing she would forget it. It took them some time, but by flying in shifts it was done as quickly as could be. They arrived at a lonely world, and set down in a long dead volcano. Commander Valence had completed her first mission, the delivery of a full shipment of construction supplies and colony materials.

“You will be the only Commander I am happy to pay so generously for my deliveries.” Valence’s Trans-Human aunt Shay told her as she finalized the payment. “And you must be the friend Leigh, I have heard quite a lot of things.”

“That’s right, nice to meet you. You look bigger in Holos.” Leigh’s quip got a laugh from Shay.

“Come along, The hotel is far from finished, but the plumbing is complete, I must prepare something for you to eat.” Shay led them away.

After the meal was enjoyed, a bottle of wine was shared, then another. At her aunt’s insistence, Valence admitted that she had no plans for what came next in her career.

“Whatever she decides, she gets to pick if I’m helping or not.” Leigh explained.

“Are you two lovers?” Shay asked.

“I wish! But no, we’re just besties.” Leigh leaned closer, in mock secrecy. “She lets me fly her ship, so I’m her bitch.”

I’m pretty sure that it’s worse, with Auntie-Shay being so okay with this. They were laughing, Valence was as well but not as loudly. Many mirthful and distasteful exchanges later, the trio split for the night. With the two young women retiring to Valence’s Cobra, and Shay retiring there in the hotel office.

“You should stay here.” A slurred announcement from Leigh, as they settled in the cabin.

“Why? There’s not a lot of work, and no action.” I figured she’d be bored.

“It’s nice here.” Leigh declared, drunken and wistful.

“That scenery, right?” Valence joked. From her aunt’s colony all you could see was the inside of the crater wall, beyond that sulfur wasteland.

“Yeah, she’s beautiful.” Leigh said sheepishly.

“Who is?” Valence hesitantly questioned.

“Your aunt, dummy.” As she answered, Leigh nestled into a better position to sleep. “I’d wrestle with her, you think I could make her take bottom?”

“Ugh Leigh, cut it out.” I doubt it.

“Yeah, you’re right, she’d probably just pretend.” Gottdamnit Leigh.

In the morning slow preparations began to be made for their departure. It was a busy day for Shay as well, distributing her new goods and putting them to use now filled her foreseeable schedule.

“Would a pilot come in handy around here, Auntie?” Valence sent this as a digital message, it took almost an hour for her aunt to find the time to reply.

“I cannot afford to keep a Commander on staff, and would not dream of asking you to work below your worth. But thank you Tina, your offer is appreciated.” Was Shay’s reply.

Valence checked and rechecked her aunt’s choice of words many times before they were ready to leave. Finally it was time to say goodbye, not her first with her aunt, nor her last, but always hard to do. Sadly, timing dictated that she would have to do so with no more than a call.

“Hi Auntie, can you hear me okay?”

“Yes, so far at least this part of our infrastructure has been installed without too many setbacks.” Shay was overseeing a group of subcontractors, watching them like children by her own estimation.

“I’m not sure when we’ll be able to swing by again, for all I know it could be only a few months, I might pick up some transport through here and stop by again.” Hopeful thinking, but not too realistic.

“I am sure that whenever you are next here, we will both have much to speak of. I very much look forward to it.” Where would I be without Auntie Shay’s Optimism.

“You sure you don’t need someone to fly things around here for a bit.” Almost a joke.

“Again Tina, thank you. But no, as helpful as you would be, we do not need someone with your credentials, nor a ship as well equipped as yours.” Shay was then distracted by her babysitting for a few moments.

Commander Valence looked over at Leigh, who was double checking the locks of a bank of cabinets. Something struck the Commander, an idea she couldn’t resist. It was the right thing to do.

“Hey Leigh!” Valence threw her P.A.D. and Leigh caught it, confused. “When they come back, it’s a job interview. Pilot gig, light transport probably. Don’t lie, you’ll be fine.”

“Sorry about that, are you still there?” Shay said as she returned her attention to the call.

“Hello. Hi this is Leigh. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me.” With all of her might, Leigh projected a businesslike tone.

“Oh, well thank you as well Leigh.” Shay was somewhat confused, but didn’t let it show in her voice.

“I won’t screw up this opportunity by trying to hide it, I was kicked out of the Academy for starting a bar fight, but before that I was flying in Alpha class.” Her friend encouraged her as she spoke, the words taking some gravity away with them.

“I see, go on.” Shay replied tactfully.

“No matter what it is, you put a flightstick in my hand and I will fly for you. I know what I’ve done, and I know I don’t deserve any chance you think of giving me. But if you do, I won’t waste another chance to fly.” She didn’t lie.

“There is only so much I could pay you, you would mostly be reimbursed with services, barter.” Shay explained how little draw the position would have, as much as she could use the help she abhorred subterfuge.

“Will all due respect, I’d take worse.” Leigh closed her eyes. “You’d be reimbursing me with wings.”

“How much time do I have to decide.” An uncharacteristically hesitant question from Shay.

“I’m off world after this call, if you no.” Leigh explained plainly.

“Then I say Yes.” Shay answered immediately.

---

“Hello Ms. Valence.” A voice came from the lonely Cobra.

“Hi Torr.” She replied. It had taken only a few days of solitude for her to reactivate the assistant A.I.

“Much has changed.” She shrugged in response. “I was installed in a Sidewinder but never activated.”

“That’s right, I’m a Commander now.”

“My internal chronometer suggests congratulations Ms. Valence. Did you decide to commit to your callsign plan?”

“Yeah, I did. Now everybody calls me Valence.”

“Congratulations Commander Valence. May I ask, why I have not been activated since your arrival at flight school?”

“I’m sorry Torr. I was just busy.” No time for… “No time for two roommates.”

“There is no need to apologize, I cannot be bored.” They shared a laugh, Torr’s was mechanical nearly synthetic. Valence was well beyond noticing. “Also, your infatuation with me can prove difficult to explain.”

“I’ve asked you to stop calling it that, I just like talking to you, that’s all.”

“You still smile when I say it.”

“Shut up.” I do though. “Plot us a route back to The Bubble.”

“Anywhere specific?”

“Somewhere New Alliance. Maybe I’ll take a look at this place everyone says I sound like I’m from.

“Altair?” Valence acknowledged Torr with a chuckle, he continued. “Your uncle is from Altair, or sounded very much as though he is, when we last met.”

“Altair, is it? You only met him for all of five minutes while he gave you to me.”

“Your father is from Proxima Centauri, though he told me.”

“Well what’s Altair like?”

“The system was used as a staging ground for the Hudson loyal faction after his assassination, those loyal to Admiral Winters fought hard for the capture of the system, with heavy losses on both sides until late Thirty-Three-Oh-Six when the system was overrun by The Imperial Navy.”

“How’s the rebuild going?”

“It is not. Altair has remained fiercely independent of Alliance control. The power structure that remains can best be described as feudal, reports suggest little in the way of maintenance exists for what space-capable assets that are present. No formal docking facilities are currently in operation within the system, and no orbital stations or ports exist there. Altair is the former location of a famous starport, Solo Orbiter, the only facility that distributed pre-consumer level supply of a proprietary fashion item. A symbiotic engineered colonial organism marketed as Altairian Skin.”

“Ugh, creepy.” Valence shuddered. “Did The Empire shoot down the Port?”

“No, Solo Orbiter survived The War, reports vary but it seems some internal conflict within Altair saw it destroyed in the years since then.”

“Yeah, you know what, fuck Altair. Pick somewhere with laws and stuff maybe, it doesn’t really matter.” as the route worked it’s way into existence she thought for a moment. “Torr, when we get back to the bubble, don’t mention who I am unless I say to.”

“To clarify, should I still call you Ms. Valence?” She nodded. “You wish I not mention your family then?

“Yeah, I want to just… Keep things on the down-low, I guess.”

“That is fine Ms. Valence. I can do that.”

“You know it’s funny Torr, I helped my best friend get their life on track, but now I’m just… Lonely.”

“I do not understand Ms. Valence, this does not seem funny to me, and my humor settings are unmodified.” The mass of internal sensors and cameras did their work, and Torr saw Commander Valence slowly and silently start to cry. “Would you like some music?”

“No thank you Torr.” She tried to dry her face. “Can you just read something to me?”

“We last left off with the Fairy leaving the scene, Titania had fallen asleep, but shortly thereafter a cloaked figure enters. He creeps to the bedside of the Fairy Queen and brushes her eyelids with a cut flower.”

“I remember.” Valence muttered in encouragement, her tears slowing.

“The cloaked figure reveals themselves to be the spurned and mischievous Fairy King, Oberon himself. The spell now cast, he turns from the wife he has cursed and speaks. ‘What thou seest when thou dost wake, Do it for thy true-love take, Love and languish for his sake’” Torr continued to read the archived play. But Valence was lost to her own melancholy thoughts, nearly dozing.

It is funny, it’s sad but it’s funny. Like cursing someone to fall in love.