Sweat tickled Henrik’s brow as he read one last diagnostic on the power regulator. “Looks good. Close it up,” he said to Draug, sitting beside him in the maintenance tunnel. Somehow, the Ghupto squeezed its bulky frame in there with him and managed to avoid sweating despite the uncomfortable heat. Draug shut the lid. “Try it now,” Henrik said into the ops crew comm.
“Powering up,” Rosalie replied.
“It’s going to work this time,” Henrik said to Draug, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.
They sat on grated panels, surrounded by conduits and equipment. The regulator’s status light flashed. Then the conduits hummed as power flowed into the Stardancer’s dormant engines. The tunnel’s guide lights pulsed. Henrik was about to curse when he felt the subtle vibration of the engines coming online. “Just like I told you,” he said.
They crawled out of the tunnel and stepped into the main corridor of deck C. It stretched the length of the ship—from the main cargo bay to the engine room—with pressure hatches spaced in between. Rosalie emerged from the nearby engine room.
“That was very impressive,” Draug said.
Rosalie’s face contorted in a disparaging smirk. “Please. Any chief engineer should be able to handle that.”
“Are you kidding me?” Henrik fumed. “That is a masterful jury rig job and you know it. Running bypasses like that are a huge pain.”
“We still need to buy a brand new one. You don’t mess around with power regulators.”
Brock strolled up, returning from the cargo bay. He reported there was no damage and it had pressurized again, then held up a small tool sack. “Best of all, I found a few of the rocks,” he said, and pressed a finger to his lips.
Rosalie eyed the sack hungrily. “That’ll buy us quite a few rounds.”
“If only we didn’t blow the rest of them out into space,” Henrik said. The thought of those lost minerals turned his stomach.
Rosalie eyed him like he was being unreasonable. “Dash didn’t have a choice. If we didn’t use that thing like a scattergun, we’d be in a cell on Terminus by now. Give the man some credit.”
“I give him credit,” Draug said earnestly.
Henrik glanced between the other three. He couldn’t believe they would side with the captain after what they’d all just gone through. It was now the fourth port they could no longer visit without risking some terrible fate at the hands of an aggrieved party. Rosalie argued it was a net win, given the addition of Wesley. Henrik didn’t buy that either.
Rosalie gave up. “I’m tired of arguing, and I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.”
Henrik blocked her path. “And what if things don’t get better? Are you going to keep taking it from Dash?”
Her eyes rose to meet his. “Get out of my way.”
Henrik stood his ground. “You’ve been at this a long time,” he said. He lowered his voice. “Don’t you think you deserve a better captain? A better life?”
Rosalie chewed on her lip. She looked caught off guard by his empathy. “If conditions don’t improve soon,” she said, and paused to let her words sink in, “then I’ll be open to any proposals you might have. Now get out of my way.”
Henrik glanced at Brock and Draug. “And you two?” Brock growled an affirmative. Draug squirmed. “Draug? You know you will. I want to hear you say it.”
The Ghupto technician nodded, head bowed in submission. “Yes, I would support the group.”
“Good. And when the time comes, I don’t want to hear about anyone forgetting this conversation,” Henrik said.
“Couldn’t forget it if I tried,” Rosalie said. “Now, would you please shut up about it, and lead the way to the galley.”
“Engines are holding steady. No ships on sensors in pursuit. I think we’re clear,” said Gaius.
Dash leaned back in his captain’s chair and exhaled deeply. His entire body ached as if it had been bounced around a cargo hold during a rough atmospheric landing. He found a welcome distraction in the subtle vibrations of functional engines, the comfortable seat padding, and the flask in his armrest stash.
An endless array of stars stretched across the main display, courtesy of the forward hull cams. Free of the dust cluttering the asteroid belt, he could take in the unpolluted beauty of the galaxy. All those suns were a tiny fraction of what existed in the entire universe, and between them all lay inconceivable amounts of nothingness. He spent much of his life traveling those voids, always on the move. Despite all his travels, the view never failed to catch his eye.
Gaius spun around in his chair. “We need to talk about what happened,” he said, and proposed his theory that Boran had knowingly screwed them. Dash knew that wasn’t true, despite his falling out with his old captain years ago. He proposed his counter-theory that the crew had flapped their mouths at the pub. It made sense knowing Kashara had sources around the station. But her insistence on obtaining Wesley felt strange to Dash. The more he thought about the kid, the more his instincts told him there was something much deeper beneath the surface.
“I think the kid might be running from something,” he told Gaius.
“Like what?” Gaius said, looking like he was holding in an inappropriate comment. “You think he’s a wanted criminal? He can’t do anything bad, not with the ‘Lords’ watching over him.”
“Just because you don’t believe, doesn’t mean you scoff at the beliefs of others,” Dash chided his pilot. “As long as his past doesn’t affect the present, I don’t care.”
The subject of Wesley reminded Dash of his frequent thoughts about replacing the ops crew. But it was hard to find decent licensed people, and the current economic climate made it worse. What they really needed was steady work, where the ops crew would return to their baseline state of general grumbling whenever Dash wasn’t around.
“By the way,” Gaius said, “I was right about Tinker needing a full system rebuild. That hackware did a number on it. Never seen anything like that. I’m guessing it was stolen. Tinker’s screwy configurations saved us here. The hackware couldn’t sort through it. The bot is still rebooting, so I don’t know for sure if any of the hardware was fried.”
“That’s the last thing we need. We can’t hold this ship together without that bot,” Dash said. “Any worries about a security risk from the hackware?”
“No way. Not after a full rebuild.”
“Good. But how would guild goons have gotten their hands on high-end hackware?”
Gaius shrugged. “No idea. Maybe the station’s running a black market since the sanctions killed the mining operation.”
Dash recalled his visit to the shady pawn shop near the docking bay. He was still steamed about that old man working him over. “Possibly.”
“We could drop an anonymous tip to SecForce. Send them out there to investigate.”
“I’ll think about it. For now, we need to focus on ourselves,” Dash said. His thoughts drifted to the two contacts. He knew the guild couldn’t report the deaths to the Atan system SecForce division without incriminating themselves of their extortion schemes. If the guild had the cred, they could send someone after the Stardancer. But if the guild could barely keep the station afloat, they couldn’t afford a mission of vengeance.
“The Z team,” Dash said with a dismissive snort.
“The Z what?” Gaius said.
Dash forgot the pilot had been unconscious for that part and filled him in.
“That’s not true, not by a long shot,” Gaius said. “We’re at least the M team. Maybe even as high as H team.”
“We’d be even higher if it wasn’t for the flight violations against our license.”
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“First of all, you know half of those are thieving Commonwealth Commerce Standards fines. I’ll schedule my final test and get that taken care of, okay? And even if we are the Z team, Kashara and her crony are dead, so what does that make them?”
Dash’s lips stretched into a thin smile. They sat in silence for a time. Then Gaius said, “So, about Praxa Prime—”
“Don’t even start with me on this game of yours,” Dash said. “I’ll get the crew their promised leave. Then you can do whatever you want. Happy now?” He noticed Gaius hold his PD out and make a face. “What’re you doing?”
“Just snapping a pic for the post announcing the event,” Gaius answered, a bit too mysteriously for Dash’s taste. Before he could respond, the bridge hatch opened. Dressed in a fresh set of medical utilities, Wesley held a steaming cup of tea and a medkit. He stopped at the engineer station, eyes fixed on the viewport. Though he appeared calm, his clenched jaw and lack of eye contact betrayed his irritable state.
“I’ll examine you now, Captain,” he said, and proceeded to attend to Dash’s cuts and bruises.
Dash wanted to help the kid process things, but struggled to find the words. He settled on, “Do you want to talk about what happened?”
Wesley paused. “There are many things we must discuss, such as you rendering me unconscious. But we’ll save it for another time.”
“I am sorry about knocking you out, even if it needed to be done. I know that was a difficult experience. I promise you this isn’t normal.”
“I certainly hope so.”
“I do have one question for you, if you’re feeling up to it,” Dash said. Wesley nodded for him to continue.
“Who’s this Jo?” Gaius said, butting in. “You were saying their name while you were out of it.”
Wesley paused his work, and shot a wary glance at the pilot. “I did? That’s odd. It’s the nickname of an old acquaintance of mine.”
Dash cut in before Gaius could derail the conversation again. “My real question was Kashara seemed very interested in you. What did she say?”
“She indicated her desire to recruit a medtech to the guild,” Wesley said, and rubbed some ointment on Dash’s face. It left his skin tingling. “As for the offer, I declined it because I made a commitment to you, and because it would be immoral to serve in the manner she desired. Despite my upbringing, I am not as naive as you think I am.”
“We appreciate your willingness to stick with us,” Dash said, surprised at Wesley’s strong devotion to his new crew.
“There is nothing to thank me for. I keep the promises I make,” Wesley said. “How is your, uh, groin feeling?”
“You missed the sensitive area, so you’re off the hook for nailing the captain with a cheap shot,” Dash said.
“I appreciate your leniency. Everything looks fine. I shall return to my quarters now.”
“You’re welcome to stay if you want,” Dash said.
“Thank you, Captain. Some other time,” Wesley said. He went to leave and stopped.
“Please, speak your mind,” Dash said.
“I don’t understand the contacts’ turn to violence,” Wesley said. “I find it incredibly disturbing.”
“Join the club,” Dash said. “Looks like they’re running shady schemes out there to get by. They had some leverage on us and thought they could strong-arm me into a bad contract. I wasn’t about to let that happen.”
“The Commonwealth created the Commerce Standards to prevent these sort of things—”
“Oh, don’t get me started on the CCS,” Gaius said. “Their regulations are what’s causing all these fringe operations to get desperate and aggressive with enforcement.”
“Do you have data to back up that statement? Because that was not the intent of the standards at all—”
“Of course it wasn’t the intent! It was just another example of a half-assed bureaucratic solution,” Gaius said. He narrowed his eyes at Wesley. “I bet your family belongs to one of the merchant Houses who pushed for the CCS. Is that why you can afford to take no shares?”
“My personal finances are of no relation to my opinion. In fact—”
“Listen, you two. You can debate the ins and outs of galactic economics all you want on your own time,” Dash said, silencing the pilot and medtech. “It’s been a long day. Let’s not beat each other up any more than we already are.”
Gaius and Wesley exchanged one last confrontational glance, then looked away from each other.
“Apologies, Captain. If you’ll excuse me,” Wesley said and stepped through the hatch.
“Hey, Doc,” Dash called after him.
“Yes, Captain?”
“You did good back there. Doesn’t matter what you think. You’ll realize it someday, I promise.”
The medtech nodded, then left.
Dash looked to his pilot. “What’s the matter with you?”
Gaius held up his hands. “Listen, you know how I get about the Commerce Standards.”
“Yeah, I know. Just take it easy with the kid, okay?” Gaius nodded. Dash sighed and rubbed his temples. “Other than that, I thought the conversation went better than expected.”
Gaius pressed his fingertips together as if thinking through a conspiracy. “Maybe he was in a cult, and he ran away. Maybe Jo was the cult master.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a Holy Church missionary.”
Gaius snorted. “That holier-than-thou stuff ain’t for me.”
“They wouldn’t let you in anyway,” Dash said.
“If you’re such a fan, why don’t you join?”
Dash stared at the display, taking another hit from his flask. “They wouldn’t take me either.”
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