FSE

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“Captain Nevins, you are clear for landing at pad two,” the automated voice beeped.

“Thank you, darling,” Nevins replied. He leaned back in his cozy captain’s chair. “ADA, if you would, bring us in nice and squarely on that pad.” He pointed at the display showing the ground beneath them. “You know how they are about their parking tickets.”

“I am more than aware. Landing now,” ADA replied.

Nevins closed his eyes, hearing the engines wind down, the thrust hitting the pad, and the landing gear groaning under the ship's weight. It was all punctuated by a lurch and a clunk, then suddenly, all was quiet. He opened his eyes again.

“Beautiful,” he said.

Nevins stood up, stretched, and made his way over to the landing platform. The airlock obediently opened on his approach, swinging open to reveal the dusty orange landscape before him. Industrial blocks of habitation dotted the desert-like plain, proving that humans were indeed around. Hard to believe the planet was breathable. Nevins adjusted his jacket and made sure his gloves were securely in place before stepping out onto the landing pad and navigating over to the way station proper.

Inside was just about as Nevins expected, worn-out prefabs that had taken on their own character but still maintained their mass-produced feeling with exposed struts and gray floors and walls. Just the kind of sad place anyone would want to possibly escape, meaning primo recruiting material for a crew. There was a little lounge area that gave way to more amenities, but his eye was trained on what could charitably be called a bar.

Nevins settled in on a cheap stool and looked at the other patrons with a careful eye, looking for anyone that could possibly be up for a romp around space. He knocked on the bar, catching the attention of a jumpsuited bartender, who, after a quick exchange of digital currency, gave him some cheap boxed alcohol. Not much of a celebration for a job well done, but it would have to do.

As the search continued, Nevins noticed an annoying trend between all of the patrons. They were suited in corporate garb, proudly showing off the logo of various hauling companies, meaning he couldn’t just pluck them out of their work for his own needs.

“S’cuse me, bartender,” Nevins said. “You know of anyone in need of work around here? Crew type stuff.”

“I don’t really keep track of who needs work, that’s not my job,” the server replied.

“It isn’t? Aren’t you the friendly ear type?”

The bartender gave him a sneer and a shake of the head.

“That figures. Who would know?”

“Admin might.”

“Admin it is,” Nevins replied. He stood up and grabbed his drink.

Fortunately, like every boring prefab building, everything was perfectly outlined in their instructions, leading Nevins directly to the administration quarter, which seemed to line up right next to maintenance. And as he sunk into that section, he noticed that the humans in the area were quickly replaced with anthromorphs of various shapes and types. Made sense. They’d want cheap labor back here.

Nevins kept his gaze forward, finally making it to the admin’s office. A golden plate on the outside read “Finlay Stevens, Administrator.” Snazzy. He approached the door and pressed the call button at its side. Almost instantly the door opened and Nevins made his way in.

“Mr. Stevens,” Nevins said. “Glad to make your acquaintance.” He raised his right hand for a shake.

Mr. Stevens was sat behind a modest desk, click-clacking away at a keyboard. He looked up, his expression instantly forming into bewilderment.

“You’re not who I was expecting,” Stevens said. “Why are you here?”

Nevins retracted his hand. “Alright. I was hoping you knew of anyone who might need work on a ship.”

“I don’t know what you expected from the way station, but we don’t just keep workers on standby. Nor do we meddle in the affairs of customers. I’d like to kindly ask that you leave.”

“You don’t meddle? I really doubt that with everything goin’ on here. Besides, these places are breeding grounds for vagabonds, I’d know. You’ve had to have heard something on the vine, yeah?”

“Meddling aside, someone needs money to partake in our services. If they don’t have a job, then there’s no way for them to stay here.”

“Really? Not a single person hanging around?”

Stevens looked to his computer, then suddenly back to Nevins. “Actually, I may have something in mind.” He pressed a button on his desk. “Bring over Laura.”

Laura. Nice name. A woman, though? Nevins rubbed his gloved fingers in his pocket. That was begging for trouble in close quarters. Maybe she’d be a looker, at least, right?

---

Laura forced a wrench with a snarl, sighing once the bolt she was tightening would go no further. She gave the pipe a knock, making sure it was secured.

“Finally,” she said.

Laura tossed aside the wrench and sat against the wall, panting to cool herself down. The damn lizards had it so easy. They didn’t have to worry about the lack of conditioning this far into maintenance. Not to mention they were actually made for rummaging around in the guts of these halls. Lupines were not made for something like this. Raising her hand, Laura wiped away some of the dirt that clung to her arm. She stared at it, already used to the lack of depth. Damned eye.

“Laura,” the radio at her hips crackled.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Report back to main habitation, please.”

Nothing good would come of this, especially not now. Laura hefted herself up and made the long trek back from the metallic guts, stopping at the cramped anthromorph quarters. The reptilians there gave her barely a glance, preferring to sink in whatever flavor of escapism they had. Books, music, videos. At least there were no intimate relations on display. Laura retreated to her small cot and wiped herself down, freeing herself from soot, and exchanging her shirt for a cleaner one.

Once she seemed vaguely presentable for her superiors, Laura made her way back out, only to be stopped by the dog-morph waiting in the hall. She was dressed a little nicer, being made for human interaction. Plus, she was the administrator’s personal secretary… thing. Task slave.

“There you are, Laura,” she said.

“Ma’am,” Laura said.

“Don’t you remember? We don’t need those silly, fussy titles. Maxine. That’s all.”

Laura nodded. “I was needed somewhere, Maxine?”

Maxine reached out to pluck a bit of fur off of Laura’s shirt. “Oh, yep! The administrator wanted to see you. Sounded a little urgent.”

“Right. I’ll report to him, then.”

“Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.”

Maxine gave a little wave and turned heel, immediately heading off to do God knows what. Laura ran a hand through her purple hair, straightening it out. Must look presentable for the leader, right? She started her march to the admin’s office, hoping this was just the beginning of another inane task.

The golden plate at the door greeted Laura. Finlay Stevens. What an odd name. She pressed the button at the door’s side and was immediately allowed in. A particularly strange human stood inside, just in front of Mr. Stevens, sipping away at one of the cheap drinks they served here. At first he seemed surprised to see her, which quickly melted away. A wide smile burst across his face and he nodded to her. His gaze was slightly more focused on her eye than her face, she could tell. Laura nodded back at him, then stood at attention in front of Stevens.

“You requested my presence, sir?” she said.

“I’m guessing this is Laura?” Nevins said.

“This is Captain Nevins,” Stevens said, presenting with a hand. “He was looking to obtain your lease.”

Laura paused, then looked back to Nevins. He nodded. Captain? Of a ship? He hardly seemed capable of something like that, but… It did mean a chance away from all of this, back to the position she should have been in. Still, this was all so very sudden. Not surprising, however. She was another product to be shuffled around.

“I trust you look forward to this exchange of hands?” Stevens asked.

“Naturally, sir,” Laura said. She turned to Nevins and raised her hand. “I look forward to my time underneath your stewardship.”

Nevins grasped her hand with his own gloved hand, shaking it. “Likewise.” Turning to Stevens, Nevins produced a card.

Stevens took the card and picked up a data pad from his desk, swiping it along the side before handing it back. “Good. Good, that will be all,” Stevens said.

“Wait, isn’t there some kind of paperwork to get into?” Nevins asked.

“The money was enough. Our Laura came under contract through unusual circumstances.” Stevens presented the door. “Now that will be all, I’m sure. There are no other leases I can offer. Nor any ‘free hands.’ ”

Nevins furrowed his brow. “Alright, let’s show you to the ship, then,” he said. “C’mon, Laura.”

Laura nodded and followed after Nevins, still in somewhat of a shock that this was all that was needed to exchange hands.

Suddenly, Nevins stopped. “You don’t have anything you want to bring with you, do you?”

“No, sir.”

“You sure about that? I’ve got enough room, believe me.” He chuckled to himself. “Oh, boy, do I.”

Laura stopped herself from furrowing her brow. “No, sir. I don’t have any possessions.”

“Except the shirt off your back, I’m guessing?”

“Essentially.”

“Ah, I’ve been there. We should get along just fine.”

One could only hope, she said silently.

Laura quickly acclimated to the shifting of hands. Another product being tossed to a new owner that would have her. Speaking of her owner, he had some strange garb on, or rather, it was strange that he was nearly covered head to toe, with only his head being bare. He also seemed far more relaxed than the other humans she had to labor under. There was no way he was military, or had any sort of training. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a proper post.

They approached Nevins’ ship, where he stopped at the entrance and popped open the hatch.

“Ladies first,” he said.

Laura paused, looking up at the remarkably sleek thing. That was a Federal ship, no doubt. Not a militaristic powerhouse, but a small ship that packed a punch. She had seen many in her time. How did he get his hands on one? Not wanting to disappoint her new driver, Laura stepped in, feeling a creeping sense of familiarity. The airlock shut behind her.

“What is my station, sir?” she asked.

“You’ll be extra hands. First mate, mostly, but working whatever you can,” he said, settling into his captain’s seat in the cockpit. “I plan to take on way more work and it helps to have an extra body, you know?”

“I understand.” Far too casual a posting.

“What kinda work did you do back there?” he asked. “Just so I know what you’re good at.”

“Maintenance.”

“Pretty thing like you? Maintenance? Rough. Anything before that?”

Laura slightly tilted her head away. “Military positions. Various.”

Nevins paused for a moment. “Military, huh? I bagged a good one.” He clapped his gloves together and spun his chair around to face the viewport. “Alright, ADA, let’s pull outta dock. Make it quick before they start charging me for the air.”

“Order confirmed. Beginning launch,” the ship replied.

The vessel groaned, engines spooling up. Laura moved into a nearby seat and buckled herself in just as the ship took off, lazily pointing upward. A blast sent them careening forward, straight into the upper atmosphere. Delight hit Laura. Just like that, they were off the planet, speeding toward space. She reeled herself in as soon as she saw stars. This was a job like any other, don’t get your hopes up.

“Never gets old,” Nevins said.

Soon enough, they were outside of the grasp of the atmosphere. Laura had almost forgotten what it was like to be up here, staring out at the endless painting of stars. Nevins stood up, blocking her view.

“Let’s give you the grand tour, alright?” he said.

Laura unbuckled herself and stood up. There was an odd excitement in his voice, like he was eager to show off the ship. Strange. All the same, she followed after him.

“You saw the cockpit. Here’s the main hallway leading into the bulk of it.” He traveled further down into the hallway. He pointed left at a door. “Captain’s cab.” He pointed right. “Crew quarters. Take your pick of bunk.” He moved further down, pointing at more doors. “The head. Mess hall. Down that way is access to the engines. And below that is the cargo space. Got it?”

“I’m familiar with it, yes, sir.”

“Really?”

“I served aboard several ships similar to this, sir.”

“Then you should be up to speed. I’m hoping this one looks a little nicer than the others you’ve served on, though.”

Laura merely looked at him. It was odd how he spoke so flatly, but his words carried some casual jokes.

“Guess I’ll take that as a no. Don’t worry, we’ll tune it up. Someone got their grubby hands all over it, so it’ll take some undoing.”

Laura nodded.

Nevins slightly narrowed his eyes. “Not much of a talker, huh? Guess I didn’t realize I was that bad at chatter.”

“Only awaiting orders, sir.”

A smirk caught on his lips. “Alright, I order you to pick out your bunk.” He pointed back at the crew quarters. “And settle in.” Nevins tilted his head. “Might be some clothes in there, but I’m not sure they’re your style. Not curvy enough.”

“Yes, sir.”

Laura went around him and approached the crew quarters, slipping inside. It was slightly roomier than she had expected, more than enough space for at least a compliment of four people to comfortably move around without being at each other's throats. She settled on a bunk near the door, since it would make her daily plodding that much more manageable. A locker nearby offered a small compliment of clothing, adjustable for her more alien form, particularly her tail. Tank top, olive pants, boots. Why, she was practically back in the military’s service.

The sound of deep bubbling and groaning engines interrupted her thoughts. Already slipping into FTL, was he? Normally that would be predicated by a formal announcement. Nevins didn’t seem formal, however. Oh, well. Laura began to undo her jumpsuit.

The captain, Nevins, meanwhile, stared out into folding space, almost dazzled by the smearing of the stars. The wider viewport allowed him a better field of view compared to that clunky block he used to pilot. Things really were better with a touch of class, weren’t they?

“Lupine?” ADA asked.

“Hmm?” Nevins hummed.

“You chose a lupine.”

“I didn’t choose anything. I took what was handed to me, which, as usual, wasn’t much.” He shrugged. “Not that she isn’t a hoot. I was just hoping for two or three more hands. Cheaper on the pocket, I guess.”

“She doesn’t seem receptive to you.”

“Yeah? Seems like girls tend to be that way toward me. Plus, I’m sure she has that sense of honor about her, the kind that sees guys like me as a liability, or whatever technical term they’d use.”

“Honor is a difficult emotion to express under servitude.”

Nevins sighed. “Yeah, I get that.”

“She will likely follow your every word nonetheless.”

“Now you’re just making me feel bad. Guess I deserve it.”

ADA offered no further response, allowing Nevins to stare out into space with his stewing thoughts. It was almost impulsive how he bought her, wasn’t it? Didn’t even bother asking anything about her. He just saw her, and out came the money. Whatever, she seemed good enough at the time. Military experience was just a bonus.

The bubbling in the ship led up to a final pop, dropping the ship just outside the rings of a sullen gas giant, barely lit by a distant sun. Little flashes danced along the ring, explosions from distant mining. Nevins silently thanked whatever cosmic deity existed that he didn’t have to go into that line of work.

“This is the station, right?” Nevins asked.

“Provided the coordinates are accurate, yes,” ADA replied.

“Not a fleet of armed goons around the corner?”

“None. All ships within range are exclusively geared toward hauling or mining.”

“Maybe this guy was on the level after all.” Nevins nodded. “Or maybe the back stab won’t happen here. Not a flashy enough place for that, is it?”

In the silence, he heard the crew quarters open again. Nevins swiveled his chair around to view his new hand. Lupine, female. There was a natural prettiness about her that clashed with her scarred eye that seemed to stare him down. White fur covered most of her body, while her head hair was about shoulder length and had a curious purple color. She filled out the military garb well, with a touch of feminine curves and firm muscles to back them up.

“Ready to make some shady deals?” Nevins asked, standing up.

“If that is what you require of me, sir,” Laura replied.

Not a single joke hit her. That was probably for the best.

“Alright, we’re headed in toward that station.” He motioned back. “Meeting up with a guy who has a job for us. Not sure what that is, exactly, but it should be easy enough.”

“What is his occupation?” Laura asked.

“Didn’t catch that detail.”

“What details are available, then?”

“Almost none.”

“I see.”

“It looks bad, but that’s just how it is in my life.” He crouched down next to his seat and pressed against a compartment near its base, popping it open. Nevins retrieved two pistols, handing one to her. “If things go south, you try and keep us alive.” He placed his weapon in his jacket. “Or, if you decide to park a bullet in my dome, just make sure my face isn’t too mangled, alright?”

Laura looked to her weapon and turned to face the hallway. She raised it, slightly pulled back the slide, ejected the magazine, checked it, and slotted it back into place. Once satisfied, she placed it in a holster that Nevins only just then noticed.

“You’re ready for business,” Nevins said.

Laura nodded.

“Alright, ADA, bring us in for a clean dock. Try picking a parking spot away from everyone else, we don’t need scratches.”

“Ship docking commencing,” ADA replied.

Nevins approached the airlock as the ship shifted forward. “You ever been in one of these seedy deals?”

“No, sir,” Laura replied, settling on the other side of the airlock.

“You’ll do just fine. As long as I don’t screw up, which is always in the cards,” he said. “Just make sure no one tries to pull a gun on me.”

There was a clunk and a series of whirrs. A hiss followed, prompting a light on the airlock to turn green.

“I’d say ladies first, again, but probably for the best that I lead the charge, just so people know who they’re dealing with,” Nevins said.

Laura nodded.

The airlock swung open, revealing the long umbilical toward the docking lounge proper. Nevins took a few steps forward, feeling the two gravitational pulls gently tug at him. He could hear Laura march just behind him without pause. She was good at this.

“You were in the military, right? You ever do station boarding?” Nevins asked. “Close-quarters stuff like this?”

“Twice,” Laura replied.

“Twice? I’d say my odds of living have gone up 20 percent, at least. I can work with that.”

Unfortunately, Laura didn’t laugh at that one, either. Nevins continued on to the lounge, where a few battered miners still in their bulky spacesuits sat around sipping drinks and clearly enjoying a taste of gravity. Nevins gave them a nod, which none of them returned.

The rest of the station vaguely mimicked the way station he had just visited, only without any of the comfortable amenities, like a bar, or air that didn’t taste recycled. It was definitely far more gray as well, and had a lower ceiling. A wonder that everyone here didn’t go insane. Money must’ve been that good, or maybe they were already all crazy.

“A plant would do wonders for this place, but the green might clash,” Nevins said.

“Is your contact close by, sir?” Laura asked.

“We’re getting there. I just like knowing a layout before going into a shady deal.” He pursed his lips. “And I prefer ‘captain’ to ‘sir.’ Sounds nicer.”

“Yes, captain.”

Now that sounded weird, too. Nevins made a mental note to come up with a better title later and continued on to his contact, which he found relatively quickly. An average man stood out by a window, taking glances at space in-between fiddling with some electronic device. Were Nevins not given explicit instructions and a picture, he would’ve assumed the guy was part of the wallpaper.

“Pardon me,” Nevins started, “are you Sinclair?”

The man looked up. “Nevins?”

“I think we’re going with Captain Nevins now, but that works, yeah.”

“She your muscle?” Sinclair asked, motioning toward Laura.

Nevins looked back at Laura, careful not to glance at her eye. She stared straight ahead at Sinclair, almost worryingly so. There wasn’t any anger in her expression, but her animalistic features still gave her the look of a killer poised to strike. In a pretty way.

“For right now, sure. You’re good with that, right, Laura?” he asked.

“If that is my posting,” she said.

“How much did she cost?” Sinclair asked.

Nevins raised a hand and clasped it shut. “Let’s not get into that, alright? What’s this job you have for me?”

“Guard duty, essentially.”

“Elaborate.”

“My group recently uncovered a stash of weaponry on the far side of the gas ball, but we can’t move into recovery without setting off a built-in signal that’ll let everyone this side of the solar system know what’s happening.”

“You want me to shoot down scavengers? Risky business.”

“No.” Sinclair produced a small card. “We want you to play military.”

“IFF?”

“Exactly that, and word is you’ve got a ship to match the military look.”

“Not so loud, everyone will want a look.” Nevins took the card. “So we stand guard while your pack mule loads up?”

“Idea being, nobody is going to step in on a Federation vessel doing recovery.”

“Payment?”

“20,000.”

Nevins whistled and waved the card about. “That’s a pretty chunk of change, but this is risky business. Half upfront.”

“Half? You need to sit in one spot, we’re only coming to you for the ship.” Sinclair nodded. “20 percent upfront.”

“And if you need me for the ship, that means you’ve got no one else to play ball. So if you want me to sit around with a big target on my head, I’m gonna need you to up that. 30 percent.”

“25. We’d rather risk cops running than having you bail.”

Nevins pursed his lips. “27. You could just send the military in if I bail. All they have to do is look for this tag.”

Sinclair stared at him a while longer, then fiddled with his machine. “27,” he said. “Don’t disappoint.”

“Even I can’t screw up standing around.”

“You can start now. That card will allow you to pick up the cache’s signal, then just sit nearby.”

“And if actual feds show up?”

“We’ve spent a little cash here making sure an erroneous distress call will go out should they hop in.”

“Sounds good. We’ll play guard dog,” Nevins said. He briefly wondered if that would offend Laura.

“Full payment will be sent out as soon as the loader is away.”

Nevins swiveled on the spot and began the walk back to his ship. Laura quickly followed after him.

“Captain, a word?” Laura said.

“Yes, first-mate? I was hoping to ask you something myself.”

“I have not ever heard of the Federation stowing away weaponry, certainly not within the rings of a planet.”

“You’re a mind-reader. I was about to ask that very thing, and it’s just my luck.” Nevins looked at the card. “So either this is a setup, or they’re grabbing something far worse.”

“Both seem equally likely. The question then is, what would be more illicit than military weaponry?”

“Military explosives? Drugs?”

“I am leaning toward setup, now.”

“Still, 20k total pay out.”

“Or death.”

“I’ve had worse propositions. Let’s see what ADA says.”

---

Laura stared at Nevins, wondering if he would truly go with this job. That was his field of work, wasn’t it? Shady jobs. Not as though the military were entirely free from shadiness, but Laura had to admit to herself she felt a little lost without a firmer commanding hand. Her current owner was fiddling with a card in a slot, eager to potentially kill himself over a quick pay day. He slotted the IFF card into a console.

“Alright, ADA, what’s the verdict?” Nevins asked.

“IFF tag. Clean. Will report this vessel as a Federation ‘Skipper,’ ” the ship replied. “Free of any modifications.”

“So he’s at least a little on the level, huh?” Nevins looked to Laura. “Your take, first-mate?”

It took Laura a moment to realize he was asking for her opinion.

“This part might be true, but the parameters still don’t make much sense,” she replied. “Is it possible to scan the cache from here?”

“Well, ADA, is it?” Nevins asked.

“No,” the ship replied. “Out of range.”

“And likely shielded once we approach,” Laura said.

“Well, if they are weapons, it would make sense for them to be all cooped up like that, right?” Nevins asked.

“Yes, but again, I’ve never heard of them storing weapons like that. What purpose would it serve?”

“Could be some pretty nasty weaponry left behind. Stuff you don’t want on the books.” Nevins looked out of the viewport. “I wouldn’t put it past them to do that.”

“A possibility, but I doubt they would want anything so volatile in an active ring system. The way the orbiting masses shift means a collision could spill its contents, and being populated with only civilians, it would be easy to trace it back to them. That is, if it’s not rigged to blow if disturbed.”

Nevins looked back to Laura. “A lot of variables going on. How about we park a safe distance away? No blowing up, no incoming ships, no volatility from whatever the hell they’re digging up.” He raised his brow, breaking that normally stoic visage. “20k is 20k.”

“Yes, captain,” she replied.

Nevins turned his head slightly. “You’re trained, this should be the part where you tell me what I’m doing is stupid and that we’re going to die.”

“It is your command.” Though, that was most likely.

His gaze briefly broke from hers, then settled back on her eyes. “ADA, pull us out of dock and whip us around toward the cache. Not too close. Flip on that IFF when we’re in visual range.”

“Undocking now,” the ship said.

“Buckle yourself into the shield station.” He paused. “You can handle that, right?”

“I have been trained for a vessel of this size, yes. Not that I’ve actually done it.”

“That’s good enough. ADA will keep an eye on our engines. I’ll be the brains. Hold the panic until the job is over.”

The ship swung around as she settled into her station, which felt oddly organic to Laura. Normally onboard AI would take calculated bursts in a direction before boosting onto the next one. Just as strange as the captain, she supposed. Not exactly the way she wanted to go out, but it was work. Better than rotting planetside, right? She had to thank him for that at some point, if they made it out of this one. She looked at the console, finding a distant familiarity in it.

“Shields are completely operational at reading at maximum power,” she said.

“Great, let’s keep it that way if we can,” Nevins said.

Laura caught glimpses of the rings of the gas giant in-between her monitoring the shields. She told herself it was just frozen water floating endlessly around that dead ball of gas, but she couldn’t deny their beauty. Yes, if she had to die, best it was out here.

“What would you do with 20k, Laura?” Nevins asked.

Laura looked up from her station, seeing Nevins turning his head to look back at her. She blinked, processing the question.

“What would you want to do with 20k?” she asked.

“I was asking you, but if you insist. I think I’d paint the ship a nice black, and spend the rest on real, fresh beef. You know, if there’s enough cash for that. You ever have beef?”

“No.”

“Shame. I think you’d like it. Not that you can get it way out here.”

“Cache within view, activating IFF tag now,” the ship said.

Laura mentally sighed, glad for the sudden shift in attention. Now all she had to do was wait and monitor. She could do that. Her skills hadn’t eroded so extensively that she was incapable of the simplest of posts. Still, she wished she could shoot her problems. It was easier to fire at threats, even with one eye down.

“And now we wait,” Nevins said. His voice was calm, but Laura could hear him shift in his chair.

So, he wasn’t completely without fear. Nevins might yet understand any outside threats. Then why keep up the comedic facade? Was it for her sake? No, that didn’t make sense. He likely just found it personally amusing. Laura supposed everyone had their own way of laughing at the devil, and his was more literal than most. All he had to do was make sure that behavior didn’t bleed into how he conducted himself in a serious situation.

“Any guests in range yet, ADA?” Nevins asked.

“None,” came the ship.

“They’re sure taking their sweet time.” Nevins shifted again. “Can’t scan the box, right?”

“No,” the ship replied, almost immediately.

“Alright, alright, just asking.”

They waited and waited. Laura found comfort in the low hum of the ship. A shuddering from its hull broke that relaxation. Something was folding in, heavier than a simple hauling ship. The uncertainty in her gut was quelled, satisfied that her old senses were still sharp. That satisfaction soon gave way to a touch of dread.

“Six ships have phased in,” the ship replied. “Their weapons are at the ready.”

“That’s my luck,” Nevins said. “Alright, let’s hop outta—”

“Missile incoming,” the ship said.

The vessel swayed in almost a panic, desperately trying to dodge the missile. It failed, though rather than an explosion, there was a loud clunk and a pained screech of metal.

“FTL offline,” the vessel said. “Drive disabled.”

“Just my luck! Just my damned luck!” Nevins replied. “Man weapons, ADA, just keep firing whatever you can at them!”

Nevins took to the ship controls as a battery of weapons assaulted the shields. Laura watched the console, the shields held as she adjusted them with every barrage, directing its strength in their direction. That would soon falter as each ship dispersed, taking aim from different directions. From the sparse scans she was afforded at her console, she could tell they were civilian ships retrofitted for combat. One would be a minor nuisance, but the concentrated fire of six in this confusing field was enough for a challenge.

“Shields are holding, captain, but the shifting attacks are chipping away at them,” Laura said.

Nevins did not respond, instead wrestling with the ship controls, sending it every which way. Surprisingly, he held his own, managing to avoid quite a smattering of fire in-between weaving through icy rocks.

“Where’s that thing on the hull? Give me visual, ADA!” Nevins said. “Just out of range of a turret.”

The ships continued their battle, shaking and rattling the ship. It gave its own automated barrage of fire back. Laura was back where she belonged, she figured. She braced herself at her station, still tapping away at it to adjust the strength in every which way. Suddenly, she was pulled away by the thrust of the ship.

“Alright, alright, alright. Can we knock this thing off?” Nevins asked.

“No,” the machine replied.

“Break it? Would a bang do the trick?”

“Possibly.”

The ship thrusted forward again, Laura holding tight to her station.

“First-mate, drop shields on my mark,” Nevins said.

“Yes, captain,” Laura replied.

They scraped by a larger ice chunk, shields flashing in retaliation.

“Mark!”

Laura gave herself a little prayer and did as her superior told her. In an instant, they were exposed. Fire continued around them, silently smashing into distant chunks of ice and spreading glittering shards. Nevins threw the controls back, slamming them into their rocky shield. There was a crunch.

“FTL is online,” ADA said, almost cheerily. Maybe a trick of the ear.

“Go! Go! Go!” Nevins said.

Laura took that moment to reinstate the shields, seeing as how her captain was occupied. Bubbling picked up throughout the hull, then a loud pop. They were away, folding through space at blinding speeds. Laura let out a small sigh she didn’t realize she was holding. Grown weak, have you?

Nevins merely leaned back in his chair, left hand tightly shut, not a sly word leaving his lips. Laura let the excitement filter from her body, tending to other readings to make sure everything was in order, even if the ship would have reported if it were otherwise. Busy work.

The bubbling came to a stop, and they were suddenly at the edge of another planet shrouded in clouds. Too small for a gas giant, Laura quickly deduced. There wasn’t a tug on the shields strong enough, either. Without a command, the ship slunk into the planet’s clouds, settling in the gentle patter of rain.

“Damage report,” Nevins finally said.

“Aft thrusters damaged. Minor hull damage at impact and collision site. Integrity maintained. The ship remains pressurized,” the machine responded.

“Some kind of energy sapping thing?” Nevins asked. “Guess that’s how they got through the shields.” He stood up. “Any idea who they were?”

ADA did not say anything.

“Yeah, I figured. Looks like someone might want their ship back. Should’ve seen that coming.”

That explained one thing. Laura kept her gaze trained on the console. Nevins approached Laura, left hand still balled in a fist.

“You did good, first-mate,” he said.

“Thank you, captain. May I ask our current location?”

“Some rainy world. Consider it our mouse hole when things go bad. Clouds should keep out prying eyes, you know.”

“I understand.”

“How about you get some rest? You’ve got a fresh bunk to break in.”

“Nothing else to tend to? Repairs?”

Nevins shook his head. “Some jackasses took the suits, anyways. We’ll lay low for a little bit.” He looked back. “Eject that IFF, ADA.”

On command, the card spat out of the console, clattering to the floor.

“I’d apologize for the mess, but I’m sure you’re used to it. At this point, I wish I wasn’t.” Nevins walked over to his room and stepped up to it as the door slid open. “Settle in, just don’t touch the controls on my chair. I finally got it just how I like it.” He stepped inside.

Laura still wasn’t sure how much humor he carried in every syllable. And his hand? Was that some sort of degenerative disease? Muscle lock-up? Fear? She had seen a few soldiers go through the very same. He wasn’t used to these situations, then? Seemed a poor choice to get into this line of work. Laura blinked, rubbing her blinded eye. Though, some of us had no choice in the matter, did they?

The rest of him had remained stoic. Nevins might have had a touch of fear, but he wasn’t shaking. So why only his arm? Laura discarded those thoughts and stood up. It wasn’t her place to ask. She moved into the berth, giving the stormy skies once last look before retiring to her bunk.

Either Laura had gone so long without something comfortable to lay on, or this bunk was heavenly, she wasn’t sure, but it soothed her all the same. She kicked off her boots and merely lay there, thoughts staying on nothing in particular. That empty-headedness didn’t last long, as she didn’t have a million little annoyances going on around her. No one eating, or breathing awkwardly through large snouts. No idle chatter about pointless topics, or loudly watching whatever media they could get their hands on.

It was just Laura, the hum of the ship, and her thoughts. Distantly, the patter of rain, as well.

Maybe those things were for the best. They stopped her mind from wandering too far, peeking into the past of things she should have done different, preventing her from being stranded in the first place. Who was to say it could have been changed at all? Orders were orders, and she fulfilled them to the best of her abilities. Laura told herself she should have simply been happy to be alive, and in a relatively comfortable bed, taking orders from a man who didn’t seem to mind her existence all that much. Save for his wandering eyes and a few crass remarks.

Laura flipped onto her side, increasingly missing those nuisances. The bunk reminded her of the one she served on… what was it, months ago? Closing in on a year. It was hard to keep track, being locked inside habitations all day. None of the other anthromorphs particularly cared to keep track of time, making it an even harder thing to keep a hold on. Laura supposed she didn’t either. Just another ticking clock until the very end.

It was then that Laura realized she had no schedule to adhere to. All she had to do was listen for her master’s beck and call. Better grab some rest, then.

---

Laura stirred from her rejuvenating rest, sitting herself upright. There was a hiss of piping scratching at her ears, making them twitch. It suddenly stopped, followed by the grinding of a door. Laura stood up and peered around her door, a clean, vaguely fruity smell hitting her. Nevins stepped out into the hallway, towel over one shoulder, hair glistening. Yet, he was entirely covered once more, only in different garb, including a new jacket and gloves.

“Shower’s free if you need it,” he said, looking to her. “You need any sort of special shampoo for your fur? All I’ve got is apple scented.” He stopped in front of his cab.

“I will be fine, captain.” She couldn’t recall if she had ever used the stuff.

“Alright. I’m gonna grab a bite, you wanna join?”

“Would you like me to?”

Nevins paused. “Sure, it’s an order, I guess.” He tossed his towel into his room and headed for the mess.

Laura nodded and followed after him, making their way to the fridge inside. Nevins grabbed a prepackaged sandwich and settled down at the large metal table that dominated the center of the room.

“Grab what you like. We can buy more rations on 27 percent of 20k.” He clicked his teeth. “Which is what, exactly?”

“5,400,” Laura replied automatically.

“Quick on the draw, I like it.”

Laura grabbed herself some packaged faux-meat and stood near the dining table, uncertain if she should sit next to or in front of Nevins. In front of seemed more appropriate, so she settled in.

“You good with getting shot at for 5,400?” he asked, ripping the package open.

“Pardon, captain?”

“You know, as a job, you’d say that was a good haul?”

“It’s not my money.”

“Well, we haven’t settled into alimony yet, and hopefully never will.”

The words to respond to that bizarre statement weren’t found anywhere in Laura’s head, so she simply started on her meager meal.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what kinda military work were you in? Special ops?” Nevins asked.

He touched his sandwich with gloved hands, which oddly bothered Laura in this casual environment. Did he need those for some reason? Some sort of phobia of germs?

“I suppose, in a way,” Laura replied. “Anthromorphs aren’t given any sort of official posting. Our roles usually tend to be the work no other soldier would risk, or cares to do.”

“Miscellaneous.”

“Essentially.”

“Must look good on a résumé.” He took a bite and nodded. “So how’d you wind up on that rock, anyways?” He added a shrug. “If you don’t mind me asking.” Nevins looked to her for a second, eyes slipping back to his meal.

“If I had to hazard a guess, I was considered KIA and never recovered.” Laura sunk her teeth into her meal. “Mass production lets you throw things away,” she said, voice slightly lower. “I eventually traded some of my gear for a voyage to… wherever it was you found me, captain.” She realized then she had no idea what the name of that planet was.

“And your job at the habitation? You apply?”

Laura shook her head. “They took on a free hand.” For a time.

“Not even health benefits, I’m guessing? Don’t worry, you’ll get the full insurance package here.”

“Thank you, captain.”

They lapsed into a silence after that. A welcoming one. Though it did make his glances all the more apparent. His gaze seemed to waver from curious glances to wandering gazes. Right, Laura was female, after all. It only took an interested man to remember that little fact.

Laura wasn’t a stranger to bubbling sexuality, both from herself and from others, but it often got in the way, as it did now. Rarely, she had bothered to quell that feeling, indulging in others, just to push it from her thoughts and theirs. But that had been a long while. Far before she had been forgotten about. After her abandonment, there was little interest.

Other anthromorphs at the habitation tended to stick to their species, and humans? Well, Laura wasn’t around enough of them there to draw their gaze. Also possible she wasn’t worthy of a gaze anymore, being what most would consider damaged goods. Nevins was different, being likely lonely, and that may have spurred his decision to buy her. She recalled his expression suddenly changing when they were introduced.

Laura was surprised he didn’t dig any further into her past. That tended to be the routine for shifting hands, as she had seen with many of her compatriots. Especially now that he dug his eyes into her. Wouldn’t he wonder about where she had been? Or maybe it was because she was an anthromorph, that he didn’t care. It’s not like he was running any sort of official business.

“Y’know, I’m surprised you haven’t asked,” Nevins said.

“About?” Laura replied.

“About the ship. You served on something like it, right? I’ll bet you were thinking ‘where did this jackass get one?’ ”

“It crossed my mind. Not as colorfully as that.” She chewed into the last of her meal. “It’s not my place to ask. I also thought it was a sore topic after the escape.”

“I figure being in the ship is more than enough to consider it your place to ask. Physically and metaphorically.”

“Is it pertinent to the task?”

“No, but I’m going to tell you anyways.” Nevins had long since finished his sandwich, and had been playing with its plastic container, squeezing it in his hands. “See, I had it in with these morons who like to act like they’re some kind of new age mafia. They managed to get a hold of where this ship was being—”

“Captain Nevins is requested at the helm,” the ship buzzed from somewhere.

“Must be important if she’s bothering to call me captain,” Nevins said. He dropped the packaging to the table.

Laura nodded and collected their trash, while Nevins headed toward the cockpit.

Nevins plopped down into his chair.

“Yes, ADA?” he asked.

“I have surmised that some debris remains in the ship, and prolonged flight could damage the hull and compromise integrity.”

“How prolonged?”

“Weeks.”

“Was it that pertinent?” he said.

“No. However, I did not want to hear your story again.”

“People love that story.”

ADA did not respond.

“Alright,” Nevins said, “I love that story.”

“Nonetheless, I suggest proper repairs are effected.”

“Just got cash and now we’ve gotta toss it to the wind.”

“Yes. If you intend to survive.”

Nevins crossed his arms. “What do you think of Laura?”

“Is that a legitimate question?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It would seem as though you’re trying to assuage some fears over her. Buyer’s remorse,” ADA replied.

“No.”

“It hasn’t been 24 hours since your purchase.”

“I was just curious what the almighty and perfect machine thought of her, is all. Excuse me.”

“She follows your orders, is there anything else required of an anthromorph?”

Nevins glanced back at the hallway. Laura, thankfully, wasn’t there. He looked back to the console. “You know I’m not about that.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, quit screwing with me.”

“She seems tired,” ADA replied.

“I’m hoping that’s a military thing.”

“It could be.”

The mess hall door slid open. Nevins held his tongue.

“May I shower now, captain?” Laura asked.

Now that was really weird. Nevins had to stop himself from wincing. She likely meant if he needed her for anything else, but it still sounded so, so wrong. At least she didn’t say “master” like he knew some of the other morphs did, or were forced to do. He stood up and turned to her.

“If you need to use the facilities, just go ahead. Hear me? No need for permission,” he said.

“Yes, captain. Thank you.”

“Just call me Nevins. At least when we’re not getting shot at, alright? Or when it’s just us. That works, too.”

Laura nodded and disappeared into the head. Nevins shook his head and sat back down into his chair.

“Obedient to a fault,” ADA said.

“That’s kinda how they have to live. I just don’t want to feel like an ass in this situation.”

“Why is that?”

“Because she doesn’t deserve it,” Nevins replied.

“You’re making wild assumptions. I assume because she is both female and an anthromorph, there’s a desire to treat her with a victim’s care.”

“This is not the conversation I wanted to be having,” he replied.

“And from examining her, it seems she’s often thinking the same.”

Nevins shook his head. “Alright, whatever. Find us a station for repairs. Something we don’t usually go to, just to keep eyes off us.”

“And cheap.”

“Yeah,” Nevins said, “and cheap.”

The console flicked open star charts, with ADA systematically going through and marking off potential sites for repairs and their proximity to their current location.

“I just hope the next job pays well and doesn’t have us getting shot at for no good reason,” Nevins said.

“It was a good reason.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

“A good reason from their perspective.”

“That’s more like it. If they wanted it so badly, they should’ve just stolen it themselves.”

“They did.”

“Yeah, well, you know what I mean.”

“That was your job,” ADA replied.

“And the pay was bad, so I just took fair recompense. Worked out pretty well so far, I’d say. I’d kill to see the look on their faces right about now.”

“They would do the very same.”

“Alright, just send us off before you actually get me killed,” he said.

Nevins looked to a blank screen, seeing the hallway behind him reflected in it. His mind, despite his feeble efforts against it, was already picturing Laura in the nude, bathed in the cascade of water. You really are some kinda sucker, aren’t you? Yeah, if a ship’s computer was able to emotionally dissect him, he was probably an open book to everyone around him. Hopefully, Laura wouldn’t pick up on that pathetic aspect of him. Though, knowing anthromorphs, she could probably smell it radiating from him.

Fortunately, the engines kicked in yet again, distracting Nevins with pretty space. For the most part. A lingering swaying tail stuck in his mind as he pictured her walking to the bathroom. Why did that seem so familiar? Nevins paused, body deflating into his chair. Right. He had seen someone go in the very same way. Seemed like forever ago.

“Almost there?” Nevins asked.

“Yes,” ADA replied.

A few more minutes of dejected waiting, and suddenly they appeared at the edge of a large station. It was a bit more ramshackle, with awkward parts jutting out with little care for aesthetics. Probably a bunch of prefabs welded together.

“And nobody’s going to skewer me for stepping onboard?” he asked.

“There is no guarantee. However, it is less likely the skewering will be done by those you’ve wronged.”

“I do no wrongs, otherwise I’d be dead. They were in the wrong for skimping out on me.” He glanced back at the hallway. “Let me know when Laura’s out, dressed, and ready. We can dock then. Otherwise, just keep watch.”

“Yes, captain.”

“It’s weird hearing it from you, too.”

“I know.”

Nevins went to his room and sat down on his cot. What had transpired mere hours ago caught up with him again, sparking an unwanted excitement in his heart.

“That was a close one, huh?” he muttered.

He grabbed a firm, rubbery ball from the windowsill overlooking his bed, squeezing it in his left hand. Nevins focused on the station visit. What did he need to do? He closed his eyes. Rations, repairs, other miscellaneous refills. Shampoo for Laura? Could use a few magazines of ammo. Maybe a new jacket, money permitting. Refueling, too. At some point he had to spring for a star harvester. His eyes opened again. How much cash was he floating on anyways?

The window in his cabin allowed him to look out at all the ships creeping by, to and fro. Most of them were clunkers that made his ship look like a finely crafted cruise liner from some luxury brand. A choice few were actually something to be reckoned with. Something that could stand up to even his little prize. He had jumped pretty high on the rungs, all things considered, but there was always something higher to chase. Always a bigger ship. Always a higher payout. And then what?

Nevins tossed the ball at the far wall, it bounced off and hopped along the ground before coming to a slow stop. He looked around his room. Maybe some personal touches could do this place good. It was a little more welcoming than the rest of the ship, with its softer lighting and carpeted floor with accents of fake wood along the corners of where his bunk had been carved into the wall. Military guys had it good, huh? He briefly wondered what the guys on those massive dreadnoughts got as he lay on his cot.

Imagine, a ship the size of a small town. Nevins smiled at his own stupid thoughts. With so many guns and space to do literally anything. Not like he’d even be able to pilot something that big. Can’t trust hundreds of outlaws to just follow his orders. Maybe ADA on some sort of beefed up processing power could? That’d be the day. He looked to his door. And maybe Laura would be there, too.

Though, it was plain to himself he could barely manage this ship, let alone a miniature asteroid. Sure, he could make some good maneuvers, but nothing that would require the tactical finesse of a battleship. Something to work on, right? Yeah, right.

The ship swayed forward.

“Laura has redressed. Docking now,” ADA buzzed in.

Nevins shook his head. Knowing her, she likely described it like that just to mess with him. He turned his attention back to the window, the station pulling into view. Seems like with the haphazard nature of the floating scrap pile, it used more old fashioned umbilicals. One long tube drifted over to the ship, tiny jets correcting its course as needed and then latched onto the hull.

“They are requesting an official ship designation,” ADA said.

Huh. Nevins placed a hand to his chin. He had never thought of a name. It had one before, but it was officially scrubbed, and there was no way he was going to use whatever boring thing they had thought up.

“Just come up with a name. We can brainstorm something better later,” Nevins said. He sat upright.

“Understood. Umbilical is secured, you may now board the station.”

“Wonderful.”

Nevins went to the hallway. Laura was at the ready, standing a little too prim and proper in front of her own room, arms behind her. He briefly pursed his lips, then motioned over to the airlock. She nodded and followed him over to the airlock.

“You’ve been through umbilicals, right?” he said.

“Yes. Unruly things,” she said.

“I can agree.”

The door swung open, revealing the snaking tunnel down.

“I’ll go first,” he said.

“Surely, ladies go first?” She raised her brow a tad.

A smirk caught on his lips. “Not when these damn things are concerned.”

Nevins stepped through, letting the artificial gravity slip away from him as he floated into the thing. No doubt it was strong, managing to keep structurally sound in the vacuum of space, but it still didn’t settle well with Nevins. Certainly not his guts, either. Little rings around the tube allowed him to pull himself forward.

Soon enough, he was upon a more solid part of the umbilical. A touch of gravity hit him again as he moved into a small room with a ladder, allowing him to descend downward into the station proper. Nevins looked up, relaxing once Laura came climbing down after him.

“Nice place, huh?” he asked.

Laura stood next to him. “It seems in worse condition than the last station.”

“It’s got a homey vibe to it, yeah,” he said.

They were standing in a boarding area, where several vagrants seemed to hang about, chatting among themselves and giving every passerby a wary glance. Aged lights lit up the grimy area. Further in was the station proper, which wasn’t much more proper by any means. The ceiling extended up a few more floors. The first floor was certainly standard station affair, with its more clean floors and storefronts blaring down at the pair. However, the higher up it went, the more ramshackle it became, the semi-clean sheen weathering away into broken lights and miserable walkways.

“Let’s go for a side by side kind of deal here. I can keep an eye on you, you keep an eye on me,” he said.

“Understandable. I will move with you,” Laura replied.

The station wasn’t as packed as Nevins expected, though it still had its steady stream of patrons. Most of them were humans, but anthromorphs definitely dotted the crowd, and stood out when they did so. As far as he could see, he was the only human directly accompanied by one. That might’ve explained some of the gazes, aside from being a stranger ripe for the picking.

“Anything you were hoping to pick up?” Nevins asked over the hum of the crowd.

“Not in particular,” Laura replied. “I believe you have to budget yourself.”

“If I had a dime for every time a woman told me that…”

“Is it possible to pick up work here?”

“Yeah, but nothing really good. You’d only get things like hauling jobs. The kind of jobs that they don’t actually care whether or not you finish them.”

“That seems fitting for our workload,” she said.

“I’m not playing dumpster truck driver, definitely not for this place.” He shook his head. “Besides, those jobs aren’t worth the fuel. You’ve got to go to to even skeevier side of places like this for anything that pays. Theft, smuggling, sabotage. Murder. That kind of thing.”

“Will one of those be our next job?”

“Nah, I think we’ll do something more on the level next time. Something that doesn’t end with us being blown up by some wannabe gangsters.”

“Understandable.”

“I’m thinking we do some high-grade transport next time. Nobody messes with a federal ship, right?”

“That is, unless they are wannabe gangsters.”

“Right. Let’s just forget about that nuisance for now.” He certainly wanted to.

They continued on, meandering about the station. Nevins had a list of items in mind, but at that point he just wanted to indulge in the mess of stories. Window shopping. It helped remind him that he was alive and walking around.

“How about a bite?” he asked. “I doubt anything here is authentic, but it beats out prepackaged rations, right?”

“I would not know,” Laura replied.

“Plenty of time to learn.” A familiar word on a nearby sign caught his eye. “How about an Earth classic?”

Nevins stopped in front of one of the stores. Rather than seeming like a manufactured space, it seemed more like someone punched a hole in the wall and decided to set up a little bar inside it. Chairs were lined up in front, conveniently open for both of them. Nevins settled in, with Laura following.

“Two corn dogs, please,” Nevins said.

The server behind the counter nodded and wordlessly went to work.

“I think you’re going to love it,” he said.

Laura looked to him, then to the deep fryer hissing. There was a subtle shift in her face, one of slight disgust.

“Yeah, it’s not the prettiest, but give it a shot. It’s probably not made out of a real cow, but it should taste relatively the same. Definitely real batter, though, I’ll tell you that much.”

Soon enough, a fresh pair of corn dogs were in their hands, and the server was up a few more credits. Nevins nodded and held up the thing.

“See, it’s a hot dog, rolled in batter, and deep fried,” he said. “On a stick, too.”

“Have you had many of these?” she asked.

“Way back when, sure. When I still hung around my old man. ‘Course, we could afford real cow meat.”

“Where do you start with this?”

“Like this.”

Nevins bit the top off, and chewed. He put a hand up to his mouth.

“Hot,” he said. He quickly swallowed. “Just wait for them to cool down.”

Maybe it was just the light, but he was certain he saw a smile there from her. Laura blew on the thing, took a tentative tongue to it, then bit down, cleanly tearing off half of the corn dog and horked it down. She licked her lips.

“Good, right?” he said.

“Better than rations, yes.”

“Now if only we had mustard… Ah, well, maybe after a big break, eh?”

“If that is what you want,” she said.

There was that desire to strike up a conversation with her again, but Laura seemed nigh impenetrable at times, even in this specifically chosen casual environment. Even while she ate, she looked like she had a sense of duty about her, like she was ready to pop the cook’s brain open at a moment’s notice. And frankly, she probably was.

“You ever have anything other than rations?” he asked.

“A commanding officer once gave me half of a chocolate candy bar,” she replied. “I didn’t enjoy it very much.”

“That sounds about right. We’ve got a lot to catch you up on.”

“I’ve been missing something?”

“Food. One of the greatest pastimes as a living organism. You know, enjoying life and all that.”

Laura briefly looked to his eyes with a touch of incredulity to her gaze. Yeah, OK, that was understandable. Better not try and push on that point. A part of him wanted to say how good things could be, but there was a small chance she might punch him in the face for that one.

They finished off their respective dogs and stood back up. Laura briefly looked back to the stall before turning her attention to the crowd again, slipping in along with Nevins.

“You think a station is a good place to retire to?” he asked.

“No,” Laura replied. “I do not.”

“Why not?”

“Consider how many ways a station can fail at any given moment. The oxygen could cut off, the gravity could fail, the hull could decompress. A few examples.” She glanced to him. “Would you want to spend the rest of your days in this cramped space?”

“Gets me ready for the coffin experience.” Nevins shrugged.

“Hardly needs any practice.”

“You may be right.”

Weaving through the crowd, Nevins eventually found a storefront offering repairs. It was similarly a small kiosk smashed into one of the station walls, with screens advertising rates. Cheap, certainly. ADA did good work. A bored woman stood there, idly swiping through content on a tablet.

“Captain Nevins reporting,” he said.

The woman glanced up, giving him a furrowed brow. Yeah, that never worked.

“I’m here for repairs. My on-board AI likely reported ahead.”

She nodded. “Your ship, the uh, Sisyphus?”

Nevins looked to Laura with a furrowed brow. She offered no answers. That was an entirely crude name, perfectly suited for ADA’s sense of humor.

“What was the AI designation?” Nevins asked.

“ADA,” the clerk replied.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one. She already send out the specifications for repairs?”

“Yup.” She lifted up her tablet. “Looks like you were in a scrap. How’d you get a hold of a federation ship, anyways?”

“It was passed down to me,” Nevins replied.

“Right.”

The tablet was shown to Nevins, a price and its expanded list of expenditures outlined. A zero extra than what he was expecting.

“Could knock off a bit of that if you let us scrap whatever you’ve got latched on. That’s primo grade.”

“Then go for it,” Nevins said. He turned his head to Laura. “Surprised they didn’t do it anyways.”

“Surveillance makes that tough. They run a tight ship around here. At least when it comes to ripping people off,” the clerk replied.

“Right. No business coming in if you’re all scam artists,” Nevins replied. He handed over a card to be charged, holding back a wince when he heard the ding of a successful transaction.

“Should only take an hour or two,” the receptionist said. “You can be onboard if you’d like.”

“Nah, I think I’ll enjoy the sights and sounds a little longer.”

She gave him an incredulous look and shook her head.

Nevins turned back to Laura. Almost forgot she was there with how quiet she had been. He motioned to start walking again.

“You know who Sisyphus was?” he asked.

“I do not. I assumed you named it like that as a joke.”

“Oh, so you think it’s dorky too, huh?”

“I did not say that.”

“Well, you did think it was a joke.”

Laura tilted her head slightly. “I suppose it sounds ridiculous, yes.”

“ADA must’ve named it that for a reason,” he replied.

“You could ask the AI,” she said.

“Nah, it’ll be funnier if I don’t.”

“Funnier?” she asked.

“Yeah, spice up life a little. But I think we’ll have to brainstorm something when we get back. Just throw any ship names at me when you come up with them.”

“I will.”

“So, an hour.” Nevins clapped his hands together. “What do you want to do for an hour?”

“What is there to do on a station like this for an hour?” Laura asked.

“You could gamble, or find some clothes, or start a bar fight, or check up on the news, or get shanked in an alleyway, or watch a movie. The station is your oyster.”

“I don’t think I’m inclined toward any of those,” she said.

Nevins shrugged. “Could head back to the ship if you’d like.”

Laura’s eyes wandered off for a split-second. “No. I will follow your lead.”

And so, they continued through the station. Nevins ordered up a few rations, a few more rounds of ammo, and even looked over a handheld computer or two. Laura was largely silent for the most of it, eyes doing most of the talking with slight annoyance and confusion, and yet occasionally a drop of interest. While it was nice to have someone at his side, it did feel like he was muttering to himself most of the time. What was a crew if they never spoke to each other? What was a girl if she never said a thing?

“Is there anything you want?” he asked.

They stood in a shabby clothing store, with awkward patrons silently roaming about. Most of it was mismatched, secondhand, but Nevins had an eye capable of picking out the nicer apparel.

“No,” Laura curtly replied.

“You don’t happen to carry a watch on you, do you?”

“No, but it’s been about 48 minutes since we left the repair kiosk.”

“Just counting that off your head, were you? You that bored?”

“I keep track of schedule.”

Must’ve been a habit from the military, always counting the seconds for some elaborate plan cooked up by her handlers to be set into motion. Or she really was bored. Perhaps both.

“I’m giving an executive order,” Nevins said.

“Yes, Nevins?”

That did sound weird.

“Pick something out to buy, anything, you’re killing me here.”

“Pardon?”

“New crew member and all, feels weird to have you sit at the sidelines. Go on, pick something.”

“Clothing? You want me to pick something to wear?”

“If you want. We can go back and look at the guns, too, if you’d rather.”

Laura blinked, looking at that blank expression on Nevins’ face. His voice carried a more serious tone, meaning he was being genuine in his request. Did he want to gawk at her? Likely. Flattering, she supposed. She finally looked at the products on display, dragging her eyes away from all the potential threats walking around them.

Frankly, most of it was too garish for her tastes. Though, Laura figured she had never really thought about fashion. She had relegated her existence to baggy jumpsuits and slightly itchy tank tops and pants. Was Nevins himself expecting something in particular? Seeing his strange desire to hide away his body, maybe he wanted her to fall in-line with him, as if to make some sort of bizarre uniform. Might net them more notoriety, and Nevins certainly seemed the type with high aspirations and an eccentric way of reaching them.

This task was all-too-strange for Laura. She walked around the small store, with Nevins hovering nearby. She didn’t want anything, really, so she would pluck out one single random piece of garb, but then that meant she would have to pick a more standalone piece of clothing. What was a more casual shirt or pants without the other to compliment them? Sure, she could pick out both, and Nevins likely wouldn’t complain, but she wasn’t about to try them on here to see if they fit. Besides, most of the pants here didn’t even take into account her tail.

With those off the table, Laura focused on the jackets and coats. Most were emblazoned with logos or bizarre patterns that were an assault on the eyes. She wasn’t under the control of any official organization anymore, at least for now, so carrying about their logo seemed pointless. This whole thing was pointless. Nevins offered no pointers or whims or hints at what he might want. He must’ve seen this as a gift, spurred on by some misplaced male desire to impress a female. Very flattering, indeed. A nice change of pace, at least.

Laura plucked a light black jacket. Fashion, as she understood it, was a multi-layered thing, but it was mostly based around what colors fit together. It complimented her fur, in any case, and it had a hood, which was new. She held it up to Nevins.

“Is that the one you want?” he asked.

“Is it not to your liking?” she replied.

“I didn’t say that, just asking.”

Laura looked to it and felt its cozy fabric. “Yes, this one.”

“Try it on, first.”

Ah, here came the gawking. Laura obliged her master, slipping into the jacket. It fit quite nicely, actually, and hid away her sidearm, providing some real use. She straightened it out and zipped it up.

“Seems good,” he said. “I would’ve gone with a bit more color, though.”

Strange response considering Nevins’ outfit was all dark colors. Laura looked down at the jacket. Oh, he meant on her. No. This was good. She looked back up at him.

“You know,” he started, “to go with your hair. Well, head hair, not your general fur.”

“I think this will do fine.”

“Sure, alright, let’s ring you up.”

And so, they did. Laura opted to continue wearing the jacket. The salesman made no remarks, but it was clear from the quick glances from Laura to Nevins that he figured there was something going on between them. She must have seemed less like a hired hand and more of a pet in that moment. It wasn’t entirely uncommon. Maxine was a good example of a pet. A dirty one, likely.

Being a pet wasn’t exactly a bad fate. Most anthromorphs wouldn’t get that level of adoration, certainly. Disposable versus living toy. Her fate was a strange one, Laura figured. There was also the matter of her likely looking too deep into it. Nevins was odd enough that he might genuinely think she deserved something for being on his crew.

The mind gets wandering when it receives unfamiliar stimuli, doesn’t it?

“Huh,” Nevins said.

Laura broke out of her stupor, suddenly frustrated that she had been caught up in her own thoughts. She looked to Nevins, who was reading a small data pad. He hastily stuffed it back into his jacket pocket.

“Something that requires my attention?” Laura asked. She felt a bit silly asking that with such a casual attire.

“Sort of. ADA is telling me she caught up on some of your records. Or, more specifically, how you don’t have any on file. None that she can find.”

“My apologies.”

“Nothing to apologize about, but we’ve gotta get that fixed.” He swiveled on the spot and started off. “This place probably has a registrar. All stations seem to.”

Laura followed after him. She realized then that she never really understood the specifics of the registration process. Military positioning meant that all of that was handled before she was even engineered and born.

“What does that mean, exactly?” she asked.

“Well, see, the guys who… helped make you have a pretty tight grip on your genetics. If you’re not on the grid, they might think you were stolen or cloned or reverse engineered or something.” His face hardened. “Normally, I wouldn’t exactly care about contraband, but you don’t mess with the kind of mercenaries they send. Follow closely. As long as we get you registered, they should see you’re still under license and we won’t tip off any repo men.”

The casual trip had reverted back to a hard edge. Laura’s ears flattened and she followed closely behind Nevins. He followed some signage deeper into the station. The grime of habitation faded away, and its architecture seemed more engineered rather than slapdash. The large space had given way to more direct tunnels with blatant security cameras at every corner.

An office was embedded deep in these winding guts, past other nondescript doors. Registrar of Belenus Anthropomata. May as well be arbiter, as whoever ran the place guided her life now. They stepped inside to find an impossibly clean space. Two manned desks, a small waiting area, and a room in back. The man at the right desk perked up from his computer, looking to Nevins automatically. He was clean, but clearly on the heavier side.

“Afternoon,” he said.

“Is it? Likewise,” Nevins replied.

“What brings you in?”

“Having a bit of leasing issues. Seems like Laura here isn’t exactly on-record, which must be some sort of mistake.”

“Sure, sure, we can sort this out. Let me boot up the license checker in the back.”

He went to work, leaving his desk and approaching a strange apparatus in the other room. The other man at the opposite desk looked to the pair.

“Lupine, right?” he said. “Bit of a generic model. We could skip this licensing part and get you a better morph suited to your needs.”

Nevins looked to him and smiled. “You know, I always thought we should do the same with humans.”

“Pardon?”

“You know, strip out the bad gears, replace ‘em.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Nevins said.

The office worker merely turned his head back to his computer with a slightly troubled look on his face. Laura looked to Nevins as his face slipped back into blankness. Soon after, the heavyset attendant waved them over into the next room.

Laura was guided to the apparatus, which was a large chair. On one armrest was some sort of arch where an arm would slide under. There seemed to be a scanner at where her neck would lay, as well. She sat on it, finding a perfect hole for her tail to slide through.

“Alright, neck all the way at the back. Palm down. Get comfortable,” the attendant said.

The chair was vaguely familiar, and caused a spark of dread somewhere in her mind. Nevins stood nearby, giving her some sense of comfort, but she expected pain at any moment now. The clerk moved to the arch on the chair, tapping along its surface. Something inside of it shifted and buzzed. Laura tensed, but nothing struck at her. There was a subtle warmth, however. The clerk pressed at the chair’s head, and it began to hum as well.

A small monitor clicked to life on a nearby wall. It took Laura a moment to realize just what it was displaying. On one side, a strange patterning etched into the bones of a forearm, surrounding what appeared to be some sort of metallic square. On the other side, a series of numbers dotted around a circle in a strange pattern. Ah, that was her body. Arm bones and tattooed neck skin. Laura had always figured there were some internal markers to denote her as property, but she had never seen them.

“That is weird,” the attendant said.

“What’s up?” Nevins asked.

“Well, she’s definitely a product of ours, but we don’t have her on record.”

“Hope you’re not thinking I made her up on the spot.”

“No, sir. If you did, that would be some impressive bootlegging.” The clerk pointed to the screen, tracing along the marks in her bones. “See, we’ve got it down to a science. The chip is inserted at a young age, and as they grow, it lines up with the markings we etch into the bone.”

Laura found it hard to look at the screen. Her arm felt a pang of irritation, like something was crawling around in her.

“Shouldn’t the chip carry some sort of info about her?” Nevins asked.

“Aside from a unique marker, no. It’s all server-side.”

“So it’s an issue on your end.”

“Must’ve been a system error. We cover a lot of products, as you can imagine, so a few can get lost in the shuffle, especially on a service that spreads across so many stars.” His brow twitched and his eyes shifted for a moment, as if he wanted to elaborate more on that. “We can get that fixed, but of course, that would mean resetting the lease.”

Nevins huffed in amusement, crossing his arms. “Sounds like a bit of a scam to me.”

The clerk only offered an awkward chuckle back and shrugged.

Laura let out a quiet sigh. There it was. She was about to exchange hands again. Sure, Nevins would spring for a simple jacket, but a renewed lifetime of payments? His desire for a partner likely didn’t extend that far. It was amusing, almost, like a crude joke. She looked to the screen.

“Alright, well, ring me up.” Nevins handed over his card. “All my info should be on there, and I’m sure you’ll have to kill me with a wad of paperwork, too.”

Laura’s eyes shot to Nevins.

“I’ll get you processed right away. Oh, and she can stand up now.” The clerk walked off, card in-hand.

“You seem pretty cozy there,” Nevins said. “Not sure I’d want to sit in this weird dentist’s chair forever, though.”

Laura pulled herself up and out of it, rubbing her arm. Almost like she could feel the chip in her now. Ridiculous, since she had never felt it before.

“I think we may have to take on more work with this,” she said.

“Don’t get me wrong, I was going to pay before, but I was just pushing it off a bit. Overdue payments are less scary than Belenus thinking you’re abusing their property.”

It was impossible to know how to feel in that moment. Laura had to admit her new lot in life was an improvement, but at the expense of someone who seemed all too polite? A wasted effort. He was better off buying a new one. One that had functional eyes at that. Certainly others were better at personal comfort, too.

Those negative thoughts repeated in Laura’s head, even as he signed away a mile long set of paperwork. At any point, she expected him to look up, groan, and say it wasn’t worth it, leaving her standing in the office with her pretty jacket. But it didn’t come. He dutifully jumped through every hoop afforded to him, all for the sake of keeping her around. Laura felt out of place, standing next to him, watching him do the work.

“I think that about covers it,” he said. “Can we get outta here now?”

“You didn’t fill out the product name, sir,” the clerk said.

“Well, she’s already got a name. I thought it was good.” Nevins wrote out “Laura” on the line. “Now, are we clear to go?”

The office worker nodded. “Yeah, seems like everything is in order. Bills will automatically be sent to your account as needed.”

“Almost hoping you forgot.”

“Probably the only thing I can’t forget, sorry, sir.” He offered a smile.

Nevins nodded. He looked to Laura for a moment, then headed right back out the door. Just like that, fears dashed away. She followed after him, making sure not to glance behind her in the slim chance that another problem with her designation might yet arise.

“You know what?” he said.

“What?” she asked.

“I think I’m rethinking the whole massive ship thing.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, to get anywhere, you have to walk around a million hallways like this unless you’ve got some sort of transport system. Isn’t that ridiculous? Transportation in your transportation.”

Trying to maintain a handle on his train of thought seemed impossible at times. Though it was reasonable he wouldn’t want to think about the mess of fees he had gotten himself into. It was his way of smoothing over the situation, probably. A shame she couldn’t do much of the same for him.

Still, even understanding his logic, Laura hardly had a response for his strange small talk, which didn’t seem to bother him much as he headed onward to the docking lounge. They continued right into the umbilical and straight into the ship. Laura relaxed into the relative quiet of what was now called the Sisyphus. The small excursion into casual life almost felt like a distant dream now, but she kept a small souvenir from it, proving it was real.

Laura straightened out her jacket and looked to Nevins, who sat in his captain’s chair, unmoving. If she was needed, he’d call for it. She took the opportunity to head back to her berth and took off her jacket. Using a hanger from one of the lockers, she hung it on the bunk above hers, nestling the hook between the mattress and the metallic frame.

It took a few minutes for Laura to realize she was staring at the bit of clothing. She opted, instead, for some routine exercise to help keep herself focused on her task of being a crew member once more. There was a good chance there would be more people sent out to attack the ship at some point, so she would have to be in good form.

Elsewhere, the captain of said ship, Nevins, stared at the controls, pondering what would be the best and most gratifying way to net himself more cash.

“You’ve set a hefty fee on yourself,” ADA said. “On top of the completed repairs.”

“Do you really only come out just to mock me now?” Nevins smirked, looking up from the controls.

“Balance of money falls into purview of my duties as custodian of the ship.”

“Really? I think you’re just knocking on me for old time’s sake.”

ADA’s lack of a response of that probably meant that it was true.

“I have to keep my one crew mate, don’t I?” he said. “What kind of captain would I be if I didn’t?”

“The alert was sent for precisely that reason. It was easy to ascertain that would be your course of action based on previous actions.”

Nevins nodded. Yeah, it was easy to guess, wasn’t it? He shrugged. The past was the past. “Makes me wonder why Laura wasn’t licensed under that Finlay guy.”

“One morph in a collection of others doing hidden maintenance work. Unlikely any official would have noticed. All the same, she was a liability.”

“Does explain why he was quick to get me out of there. I’d ask, but I doubt she wants to even think about it. Few weeks alone in that mess would’ve made me snap.”

“And the fees?” ADA asked.

“I wasn’t finding any work there.”

“Did you search?”

“Not too hard, but c’mon, we got shot at not too long ago. Can’t we spring for something easier this time? Only jobs in that sardine can are all skeevy.” He looked out the window, seeing said can in the distance. “Speaking of which, detach before we catch some kind of disease.”

“There’s always one source of steady work from an employer.”

Nevins rubbed his eyes. “I guess there is,” he said. “Not sure I like the idea of bugging her with all that.”

“It will be for a good purpose.”

“Would it?”

“Your continued existence falls under that category,” ADA said.

“I think that’s just about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Nevins chuckled, then sighed. “What if she doesn’t have anything lined up? Barging in like that? Real rude stuff.”

“She would like to see you all the same.”

Nevins crossed his arms. “Really wish you wouldn’t say that.”

“It’s true,” ADA replied.

“Fine, fine. Kick us into gear.” The engines rumbled. “Wait.” They died down again. “All repairs completed, all objects loaded?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Send us on our way, then.”

Nevins stood up just as they slipped into folding space. He walked over to the crew quarters, mind struggling with itself to check in on Laura. Venomous thoughts immediately bit. Looking for a reward from the pretty damsel you just saved, huh? Just then, the door opened, bringing him face to face with Laura. She perked up, arms behind her back.

“Yes, Nevins?” she asked.

His mind halted for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Just wanted to say we’re off to meet a friend of mine for work. So keep on your best behavior, alright?”

Laura nodded.

Nevins wanted to add more to it, just to make the scenario seem less awkward, but the words could hardly be strung up.

“No need to do the arms behind your back thing, either. I mean, do whatever makes you happy, but I’d get annoyed with it,” he said. “You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

“Great.” Behind her he caught a glimpse of the jacket being hung up. “I don’t want you to think this is the kind of military ordeal where you’ll get slapped for relaxing a little.”

Laura nodded again, staring at him with those deep eyes. One was faded, dead, but it still carried the full weight of her judgment. The wolfish gaze made him remember a little too much. His left hand balled into a fist.

“Might wanna wash that jacket, too,” he said, glancing away. “Gotta look good when we make money, right?”

“That seems right, yes. And what work will we be doing for this money?”

“She’s into rare tech. The kind you don’t want anyone grabbing. So, we’ll probably be playing pack mule. The kind of mule that’s armed to the teeth, of course. Should be easier than the last one. At least in terms of who’s shooting at us,” he said.

“Does the cargo bay need to be prepared for retrieval?”

“Yeah, she’s touchy about the way they’re arranged.”

“For practical reasons?”

“No, not really. But nothing is practical about her.” His hand relaxed. “We’ll have to make a few hops, you just enjoy yourself while I fiddle around down there..”

“Won’t we have to restock the mess?” she said.

“We’re still good for a while. I’ll handle that later, since I’m touchy about the fridge.”

Laura tilted her head. “Alright.”

Nevins held back a smile. Strange to say, but she was cuter when she expressed a bit of confusion.

He gave her a nod and headed off to the cargo bay, descending into it. More of the ship’s systems bled through the walls as Nevins went downward. There was an appreciation in hearing all of the ship reverberate all around him. This thing and everything in it belonged to him. He shook his head. Almost everything.

The ship’s engines distantly spooled up, creating that curious bubbling noise as he stepped down into the cargo bay.

The cargo bay itself had seen some retrofitting from its original militaristic intentions. Rather than racks and special containers made to hold enough weaponry to blow up a country, it was now more of an empty warehouse space. A wide open berth that allowed Nevins to walk around freely. He wandered forward until he came into account with the newly loaded rations and a few boxes of ammo. They were sat near the exterior entrance to the cargo bay. That wouldn’t do.

“I’m paying you to carry around some of the finest bits of tech in the galaxy, and you put them next to a crate of hot dogs?” he said, lightly mocking her. Nevins looked up and around. “You better not tell her I said that, ADA.”

No response, but ADA was always listening. Nevins moved to one of the sets of crates, which was set on a small platform that could slide around the bay. Each platform could be locked in place when not being shoved around. He unanchored it and shoved it away with a foot, sending it careening down to the far end of the bay. The platform wailed in alarm, letting anyone in its path know to get the heck out of the way.

Nevins tried to clear his mind as he worked. It was the only reason to come down here, after all, but he couldn’t stop thinking of the past. If things had worked out. Would they have settled down? Would he have bothered to become a real man? He shoved another cargo platform. Would he be stealing ships for some idiots who like to play space muscle?

A fugue settled on him. Would she be going through now if it weren't for him? If he had just tried to make the relationship work? Nevins turned around to stare at the cargo bay entrance. How many lives had he screwed up by now? A glutton for pain, wasn’t he?

A slow thumping interrupted Nevins’ thoughts. It grew to metal clanking.

“Yeah?” Nevins said, still staring. “What’s up?”

“I thought I would assist, if I could,” Laura said.

“Don’t you want to relax?”

“I’d rather not layabout in my cot again.”

Nevins looked to Laura. She was wearing her new jacket again, with one hand stuffed in the side pocket.

“Weren’t you gonna wash that?” he said.

“I’ve worn dirtier.”

It seemed like a humorous jab, but she lacked any sort of sly smile to go with it. Must not have been her style. Nevins, however, couldn’t stop himself from grinning. He moved over to the next cargo tray, which Laura quickly unlatched. He shoved it down with the rest.

“Guess we’ll grab you some videos the next time we stop. I’m sure my buddy has some, actually. Toss ‘em up on any old data pad.”

“I wanted to say something else, as well,” Laura said.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, for this gift.” She tugged on her jacket. “It’s far better than what I’m used to.”

“You wearing it is thanks enough, really.” He popped open a crate on the next tray, finding some crackers. Nevins tore into the packaging and popped one into his mouth. “My duty as captain, right? Provides for the crew?”

“Not normal for a captain, no,” she replied. Laura’s eyes wandered over to the crackers. “I certainly haven’t been given anything from any previous captain.”

“Looks like another point for me.” Nevins took a bite, then pulled out another cracker, holding it up.

Laura took it, immediately biting into and swallowing the whole thing.

Nevins sealed up the crate and unlocked it, kicking it along with the rest. Both of them continued on, unlocking and shoving everything into the back to make way for the no doubt precious cargo coming their way. All of it was locked back in-place.

The ship spooled up again, indicating another jump.

“Just a few more jumps and we should be there,” he said. “You’re gonna love my friend, hopefully she’ll have something lined up that’s nice with a few bundles of cash to boot, too.”

“I look forward to it and the money we will make, Nevins,” she said.

It was weird, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Nevins nodded.