The St. Anne

---

From her viewpoint the world below, a water rich planet smack in the middle of the so called Goldilocks Zone, spun in slow, off kilter circles around the meters wide porthole. In truth the station to which the St. Anne was anchored was in geosynchronous orbit with the planet, Dixon's Reach, and the illusion of movement lay in how Iona was floating in the compartment. Of course she'd turned off the gravity plates upon entry, she always preferred microgravity to anything else, and had stretched out across the porthole, floating a mere fingertips reach above it. Air from the vent caught her legs like a sail and spun Iona in a minutes long circle as she gazed down at the blue jewel below.

Were she to turn over, and if there had been a corresponding porthole, she'd have seen the vaguely organic, beetle like form of Kohlberg Station. They'd been moored for over a week and docking fees were steadily running up as the St. Anne unloaded her cargo; sheep of all things. Not run around and crap everywhere sheep, fluffy panicked balls of almost brainless baaing, but fetal sheep. A brainless futures speculator had cornered the market on vat grown and packaged fetal sheep, or so he'd thought. When the bottom had fallen out of the market and he was fleeced and sheared as finely as any of his four-legged investments, Iona had picked them up for pennies on the dollar.

Problem was, how to package them and transport them. Each fetus lay within a green tinted transparent pouch filled with amniotic fluid, a spiderweb of umbilicus running into them and hooked up to a port in the side of the bag to which life support was attached. Since they'd been stored in zero-g, and moved into bulk containers in a tangle of connections in the same condition, they hadn't required any special thought beyond 'How many can we get in here?'. Now though, being transported down into the gravity well of a planet bereft of a space elevator, her crew had been...

Well, they'd been herding them for lack of a better word. Save for a single watchstander left on board, usually the doctor or cook, all hands including herself had spent days EVA, opening a container, unhooking the pulsing, squirming bags of almost full term baby sheep - were they called lambs? - and floating them to another crew member beside a hastily constructed acceleration rack that Serena and Dr. Khan had devised. There, safely cradled and connected to life support, the creatures were shuttled down to the surface to the warehouse for storage and imminent birthing, ready to add themselves to the planet's commerce for meat, wool, and possibly a bit of cuteness.

They were a monumental pain in the ass and a big hit in the ledger. Iona thought they'd break even, maybe even clear some profit, but every moment they were moored the fees kept mounting. She didn't dare push the crew any harder, they'd been working doubles and only her refusal to compromise safety any further by allowing 'phetamine fueled triples kept them from working any harder.

Another dozen circles and she'd seen the last container opened and little green packages begin to float across to the ship's boat. Iona extended her arms and her fingertips walked across the portal, enough friction to start her body moving until she brought her feet down and frog kicked herself over to the hatch. On the other side of it gravity, well half g anyway, returned and she rose from the crouch she'd landed in to walk along the passageway to the bridge.

"My ship," she said to Dr. Khan. A formality, really, since the Doctor wasn't really qualified to do more than stand an emergency at dock watch.

A swipe connected her personal comm to the bridge's more powerful unit and she opened the All Hands channel. "The moment the last one is clear stuff that cabling back into the container and close it up. I'll get us permission to cast off and settle outside the station nav limit. Annie," that was the ship's boat, "rendezvous with us there."

She cut off and switched to port control, negotiation their release and payment of docking fees, then waited another tense ten minutes until the St. Anne was able to cast off. Smoothly, turning down on her heel like a tubby ballerina, the St. Anne pitched about and began a slow, barely 5 meters per second, departure from the station that increased as the distance grew. A quarter of an hour would see them at the edge of station control, some thousand kilometers out. Well, out and up. A higher orbit but also in "front" of the station's movement.

"i know you're tired. Lord knows I know you're sweaty and your suits smell like someone else's socks," she joked across the All Hands channel, "but I'm proud of the work you've put in. We finished a full two hours before I thought we would and only let a few of those fluffballs get out of our hands. Guess it's going to be raining sheep for a day or two." They'd burn up of course, and the animals would already be dead and frozen in their plastic pouches before then. Space didn't care and didn't forgive.

"Everyone gets a fourty-eight," she said, allowing her crew a liberty of two standard days. It also gave her more time to sort out their cargo for the next leg of the voyage. Picking up the impromptu sheep for sale had meant they'd set off without a next destination in mind. It wasn't necessarily good business, well not sensible business, but it was an opportune bit of business and while her parents wouldn't approve it wasn't their ship, was it?

Well, okay, twenty-five percent of the profits for the next couple of years were but she was Master and Captain of the St. Anne and she made the decisions.

"You can hit the station, the planet - supposed to be some pretty ice caves towards the poles with little sleeping grottoes, or the beaches, red volcanic sand at the equator, or the main city...whatever the hell it's name is. Probably Dixon's Landing, they're an unimaginative lot. Or you can stay aboard and just doss down in your bunks. But if you're late you better pray to Jesu," she automatically crossed herself, "or your ass is mine if I don't just leave you."

"Someone bring me back some spring water with a little taste. St. Anne out."

They'd tarry here a full two days. Iona knew she'd go over to the station, on business at least, but had no idea where the rest of the crew would end up. Some of them, most of them to be honest, sometimes found stations or planets too hot for their liking. Not as in Celsius hot, but hot as in law man hot or underworld hot. Iona frowned a bit, not liking either, but then so long as she had them signed on as her crew their troubles were her troubles.

The St. Anne stuck together, no matter what.

Handling juicy bags of unborn sheep. Of all the things she could be doing, of all the ill-reputed jobs she could have ended with, Sona had been days taking care of what almost sounded like the worst product ever sold on an Earth supermarket: sheep in a bag. At least keeping them proper and fresh had required her unorthodox approach to throw together a rig, something that had required Serena's help to design and hastily build. The girl, and for Sona mostly anyone but the captain qualified as a girl for her despite their age, wasn't so bad as she thought on the first place, showing that she had a good head on that fit body of hers. The habit of having certain kind of pharmacological fun she didn't share, but Sona could understand the need of numbing oneself, and she wasn't going to judge her without knowing the road that took her there.

Luckily the job was almost over and soon they would be able to say their herd goodbye. Not that Sona minded how utterly disgusting those half baked lamp chops looked like, floating on those green bags. There are few things that can turn your stomach once you have been elbow deep on soldier guts trying to close a wound with a burning gun barrel, she still remembered the smell. He couldn't eat solid stuff anymore, but from time to time he sent her a family picture together with his wife and daughter.

At least she was free of menial work like unloading those twitchy fuckers out of the St. Anne, standing on the bridge while the grunts did the work they were qualified for. The lanky figure of the captain appeared through the passageway, both of them quite aware that they looked like polar opposites from one another, as Sona made room for her to occupy her spot. "I wouldn't want it any other way" she answered to her words, always having a not quite formal answer every time the captain left her nursing the ship, a small game they had going on, seeing what happened first: if the captain left unneeded formalities aside or if the doctor could behave following the orthodox way for once.

The captain's reassuring voice echoed through the channel, Sona momentarily turning it off since she was hearing it live being that close. A two day permit sounded nice, although she knew that part of it would be spent tending her unavoidable duties. "I'm not going to nurse hangovers, Iona, and I just hope nobody gets into a bar fight, the last time I had to pull out a dozen of bottle glass shards from someone's ass cheek" she said to the captain, playing nice and abandoning formalities for a moment before laying off the bad news, clearing her throat. She was standing a few steps away from the captain since talking to her too close would involve either craning the neck up high or almost talking to her navel.

"We are short on medical supplies, captain" she said, the title making it clear that it was a serious issue. "We are covered on most things surgical, and most of the pharmacy is well suited, but we are all but out of all kinds of painkillers and anesthetics" Dr. Khan explained. "If someone needs an intervention the only thing I would be able to give them is alcohol if it's something minor or a couple of shocks with a taser gun if I need to open them" her tone made it clear that even if it was a joke and she would want to avoid it, there was at least part of truth and possible a story on how she talked about putting someone to sleep with an electric shock. "Once that is sorted I think that I'm going to sleep the rest of the permit off, I've counted enough sheep to doze off a month" she added, wanting to add some relief to the issue, as it wasn't so pressing.

Serena was stone cold sober and hated life. The weird sheep bags had been creeping her out as soon as she had seen them, and instead of getting to shove them in the hold and forget about them they needed constant care. Dr. Khan had Serena rig up a life support system for the little monsters. She had done it with only a mild amount of moaning and groaning. But the system by nature had a lot of moving parts that required daily inspection and upkeep and so Serena had been just a little extra medicated to cope with having to run maintenance on their life support while they stared at her from inside their artificial wombs. Somebody, she forgot who, had tried to reassure Serena that the little bastards were blind but it didn't help.

Some relaxing chems did help, but Serena knew that the Capitan would leave her in this dump if she messed up something while high, so she spent 24 hours before stationfall clean just to make sure. She hadn't had anything but a mild sedative to help her sleep in days. And since she had to basically rebuild and take apart the life support every time Serena had to go on every single trip with those awful sheep babies! It was the stuff of nightmares. But this was the last load. Soon she would be free of the creepy lambs and their horrible eyes and on 48 hours of leave. "Thanks captain." Serena chirped back into her comms, "Remind me to do something real nice for you when I get back."

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going planetside asap. I need a nice, big..." she pauses and glances back at a lamb and shudders, "...vegetarian dinner." she says, looking out the porthole at the spinning planet below. Fourty Eight hours was a long time to spend off ship, and plenty of time to go hunting for a little fun. With all that time she would be able to get a much more potent brand of narcotic then she usually took and get good and high while still having plenty of time to sober up and make her way back home.

Donovan held the last bagged sheep, nearly cradling it really, his orange eyes twitching side to side so rapidly it looked as though they were vibrating in his head. "My one regret about this job." His deep raspy voice that was almost a growl quaver for a moment. "Is that Iona didn't let me eat one of you cute, pink little fuckers." Looking up from the bagged sheep fetus to the Annie he loaded the last one onto her. He was still torn whether he should board the boat and make the last trip planet side to complete the delivery or not. His head twitched then snapped to left a wolfish, half mad grin creeping across his face. "Not a good idea. Not at all. Do you have the patience for planet of slacked jawed idiots like the ones you've already had to deal with from Dixon's Reach?" He asked himself, his voice deeper than usual, with a rougher edge. Donovan's hands were lightly trembling and his fingers were dancing like the legs of a dying spider. "No. It's been a rough week. I don't think they would get along with me in my current....mood." Donovan's body began to shake in a at first silent fit of laughter that became a low breathy sound that was down right creepy to say the least.

Sealing up the cargo hold of the Annie and collecting all the cables, taking the extra few minutes to properly coil them and place them where Iona had clearly marked them to go he let out a sigh of relief. Iona's voice rang clearly in his head, the built in com using his skull as a bone conductor for sound. A full forty-eight to unwind, maybe he should have gone planet side. Looking out the port window at the Annie already departing he knew he had made the correct choice is avoiding the planet, but maybe he would take some time off ship on the Kohlberg. A station that size was bound to have something he could get himself into, and at least it wasn't a planets worth of trouble he could find there.

A brief exertion of thought and Donovan was connected to the com system. "Last morsel loaded, Annie has departed, and the two days are much appreciated Cap'n." Kicking off the floor Donovan sent himself sailing through the zero g corridor, reaching out occasionally to correct his course or give himself another little boost forward. He never truly adapted to the feeling of being in zero g, with the first part of his life being on a planet that's gravity was roughly 3 times earths gravity. In prison they kept the g-force at 2 times earths gravity to make it less comfortable for the vast majority of the prisoners.

Finally arriving at the bridge where there was at least some semblance of gravity he walked to the two women. "Iona." He gave her a smile and a brief wave then turned his head to Sona, giving the stern woman a curt nod. "Doctor." He spoke flashing a toothy, not quite mad, grin.

Mateo has herded sheep since he was a child, even raised some. Sheep were good for wool, meat, and devouring whatever scrap metal was in their way. They also liked to bite and climb up houses. After four odd decades he found a new way to look at sheep. Mateo stared at a slat of boxes he had to unload knowing that those things were in there... jiggling. For the past week straight he has had nothing to do really other than watch. Regular sheep he could raise, clean after them, and herd them, but these fetal bag sheep were far too delicate for him to handle.

Approaching the station he began to climb into the power loader and began to hook himself up. Mateo felt the jack from the loader hook into his neck, never a pleasant sensation. It always felt like somebody jabbing your eye, but in the spinal cord. After a second the sensation numbed and he did a few grabs to test out the arms. Mateo walked a brief circle to test out the mobility of the legs, the equipment felt heavy even in the half gravity. He tested the equipment earlier in the day already, but blowing a servo in the middle of unloading and being rendered immobile for a half hour was never fun.

His face lit up when he heard the captain mention a beach. "I know where I'm going then. The warm sand would feel like heaven against what's left of my muscles, the sun lightly baking me as I looked out over the waves." Mateo sighed blissfully, lost in the fantasy. "I think I will listen to Chopin on the beach, maybe Wu-Tang Clan. I wonder what would be more relaxing..." he trailed off into thought.

The gigantic cyborg has noticed for that even for a vagrant freighter that most of the crew was reluctant to go out. Everyone has a past he figured and customs were a royal bitch when you have the right people looking for you. Mateo was silently thankful that he had gotten his release papers from every former employer. If you make the wrong move quitting a job you could find yourself being detained for wasting a company's time and resources. He saw a researcher once gunned down at a space station for the hefty crime of taking a vacation too early. Mateo still can't get the image of that man being blown apart by machine gun fire out of his head.

Mateo couldn't really see out of the back of the cargo bay, but knew the station had to have been passing by any second now. He's developed an internal clock for docking over the years. He looked to the left and saw Donovan muttering to himself and to the right Serena looking about a week into Narcotics Anonymous and just silently nodded at the situation. Mateo actually rather liked the crew for the most part, they were all lively. He had served on ships with crews that had the personality of a piece of wet cardboard. If you're going to be in space for weeks at a time, why not be with people who were entertaining?

Thomyris “Riz” Heroux
Location: Main Hold

---

A week. They had been at Kohlberg Station for a week and in that entire week, all they handled was bagged sheep.

Thomyris doubted it would be the strangest thing they would ever to transport. She never asked questions though and kept her complaints to herself. Unlike others she wasn’t in a position to comment on the type of work they were doing, having no other alternative. With the others, they had laboured many hours in handling each of the bagged little buggers, carefully floating them through zero-gee forces and sending them planet side for processing. For food, for breeding, even as pets. But Thomyris didn’t care. It took all her willpower, especially when one of the little packages was lost and mangled into an unrecognizable mass of guts and gore, to not vomit. It was hard to dissociate the scene from the image of her bashing a banker’s head in, leaving it splattered like a dropped grapefruit.

For most of the time, she watched and assisted the one called Mateo work the power loader, datapad in hand. Thomyris was always haunting the cargo hold, checking and double checking whatever consignment they currently had, busying herself perhaps a bit too excessively in the work. She took care of the manifests, uploaded them periodically to the ship’s central computer, ensuring that what they were supposed to have on paper was what they actually had in physicality. She seemed to have a gift for the administrative side of cargo management and anyone who tried to supplant or interfere in her systems was quick to earn her ire.

She was always tapping her pad with a stylus, kicking herself off to the various crates, reading their numbers, cross-checking it with the figures she had when they first loaded up this cargo. When they were ready to shift over, she would deactivate the grav-locks, letting the crate float up in zero-gee, to be fetched by the power loader and moved. They were usually locked down in this fashion rather than allowed to free float. No one wanted a crate to bump into another, break open, and send sheep fetuses floating everywhere in the ship. Besides, it would probably be her job to clean up and collect. Regardless now, they were all moved and gone and the cargo hold would soon be empty and ready for their next consignment.

But now that was finished and Thomyris joined many others no doubt in breathing a sigh of relief. It may not have been overly dangerous work, but it had still been unsavoury. Now with a rumble in the hull, the ship cast off from the station and Thomyris watched as the beetle-like shape of Kohlberg Station drifted into the background until it was no bigger than the tip of her thumb in the distance. Funny how space could make even such large things seem so insignificant in the vast scheme of things.

Captain Knutesdottir’s voice crackled in her ear piece but Thomyris only half listened. A full forty-eight. Others might find it relaxing but she wanted nothing to do with the planet or its offerings. A wanted criminal, a runaway debtor, the last thing she wanted was to be recognized and hauled off, dragged to some prison sweat camp to work out her family’s liabilities, which were wrongfully thrust upon them. Thomyris had every intention to stay on the St. Anne and avoid any contact. It gave her a somewhat anti-social edge, a person given strictly to work but if the Captain demanded Thomyris’ presence, she would go and do whatever was asked.

Still, she got on with the rest of the crew pretty well and shared some sentiments, half-smiling to herself at Serena’s remark. They had indeed passed enough meat between their hands to last them a lifetime. Her hands felt weird after handling such delicate baggage and the thought of a nice hard stick of carrot actually sounded decent. On the other hand, the strange faced Donovan seemed to be the inverse. She wouldn’t know though as Annie departed. She remained in the cargo hold, a good foot of the ground, slightly tilted as she grasped a handle bar next to an observation screen and watched as their ship moved out. It felt safer out here anyways, with only a few inches of hull and metal to protect her from the vast cold vacuum of space.

The Captain and others would be musing over their next consignment, which Thomyris had to admit she usually had an interest in. Still, she didn’t rush towards the bridge, remaining the cargo hold. The crates were empty of sheep fetuses now, to be reused for whatever product they were going to move next. She took too arranging those, kicking herself about towards each empty crate, shoving them towards one end, where she set them down, activated their grav-locks, and stacked them neatly for reuse. She never contacted the Captain directly with such things either. Usually at least. The inventory logs were her main form of communication with the Captain, noting the relative emptiness, as well as other analytics such as spacing, storage size and so forth for which could be used to judge how big of a cargo they could take next, which was usually the same. Unlike people, the ship never grew in proportions but Thomyris was certainly thorough in her work. Perhaps she was over-nervous about keeping her position here.

Yet today was different and once the cargo-hold was restored after the final delivery of sheep, she too kicked herself off towards the bridge, swimming one might say through the zero-gee forces until she hit the bridge, where her feet were dragged down and her boots touched the metallic floor, striding moments after Donovan into the bridge, though she didn’t announce herself, simply standing there with her datapad in case there was anything else to be done. It was almost as if Thomyris was shying away from potential planetside relaxation, hoping for more duties.

"Jesu FUCKING Christos, how could you want to actually eat one of those things Donovan? Anyone ever told you you might need to take an impact driver to that head of yours? Seems you've got a bolt of five loose if you're wanting to eat one of those things after seeing 'em pressure packed like that. Seriously, they look fucking green!" She shuddered in a disgusted manner. She'd never been a fan of lamb, but even if she had been this particular trip would have made her forswear the stuff. The grim task they'd undertaken was thoroughly disturbing, even for someone who'd actually shot people.

She'd had to make every damn trip too since it seemed she was the most qualified to fly the shuttle back and forth to the station. She hated the docking systems at the damn place too. It wasn't a simple docking tunnel/link setup like more modern stations, but was a full docking clamp attachment which delivered the shuttle into the dingy, poorly lit docking bays. If the damn systems weren't so shoddily automated she'd have been able to simply fly the Annie straight into the bay herself, but whether the dock workers were just incompetent or spitefully denying her access to it they weren't able to shunt the clamps open to allow her a clear shot. The whole system just dragged the loading process out for much longer than it needed to be, much to Elaine's considerable annoyance.

As the comms system buzzed to life in her helmet, donned before each trip at the captain's insistence Elaine began to fire up the shuttle's systems. She flicked hands over various panels, checking pressure readings, seal durability, hull integrity, engine status and sensor data. She checked these once more just for good measure. Then a third time. She was well aware of her Captain's penchant for overbearing safety procedures and even more aware of the fact that if anything happened to the shuttle she'd probably end up being hunted down and skinned alive by said Captain. This done she keyed on her own transmitter and answered, "A full two days to wash this job off my hands? Thanks Captain!"

She stood and made her way back to the shuttle's hold, plotting to check the cargo as the engines warmed. She raised a hand to tap her helmet, shifting to the All Call channel for the crew. "Alright. Annie's warming up and will be underway in five. If you're going stationside or planetside now's the time boys and girls." She rotated through the cargo hold, checking the mag-locks on the containers and yanking on the extra ratchet-straps to make sure they were securely fastened. She removed one that was fraying, then replaced it with a new one, calling over comms once more, "If you're not going planetside and you need anything picked up the Captain has approved for purchase sent it to the Annie's onboard computer and I'll make sure it gets aboard before I make my way back."

Cargo check complete, Elaine made her way back to the cockpit and settled into the pilot's chair. She strapped herself in, then leaned back and checked the ship's internal chrono. She still had two minutes before her stated deadline. She sighed quietly, keyed her comms off, then closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. Past securing whatever supplies the crew needed she didn't know what exactly she would do once on planet. Maybe just find a nice hotel and catch up on some of the sleep she'd lost on this job. Maybe she could find a nice girl in a bar to share that hotel room with. It had been a bit stifling on the St. Anne these last few weeks with those creepy sheep in the hold, and even before that she'd been on a bit of a dry spell. She needed to stock up on alcohol too, she noted mentally. Her whiskey supply was running dangerously low, her vodka not much better. Maybe she could even find some real olives on this dirtball too, none of those synth things that were so prevalent. A good martini required real olives and real olive juice to be authentic, and she'd had a thirst for a martini lately.

For someone who dedicated their life to putting people back together, Dr. Khan sure did like to try to rub them raw. Maybe it was her way of guaranteeing she had job security? No matter, and it really was no matter, because the St. Anne was a civilian vessel and even though by millennia old tradition Iona had an absurd amount of authority aboard her ship, she wasn't a stickler for protocol that wasn't directly related to safe operations of the old Dodger class. If the Doctor saw fit to call her Iona rather than Captain it didn't perturb Iona a bit. Khan was good, as good as she was gruff, and that was all that mattered. Let her have her moments and choose not to die on the hill of formality.

"Keep in mind the difference between want and need, Doctor," she answered. "And negotiate the price then hit them up with a cash offer to sweeten it." Unlike credits shared electronically, cash wasn't traceable and that meant income that wasn't taxable. The St. Anne carried a good selection of cash and other more tangible bartering specie like exotic crystals or just plain old gemstones for situations when getting into or out of port called for a little baksheesh. Iona was about to speak further when Donovan arrived and spoke her name as a greeting that she acknowledged with a slight upward then downward motion of her chin.

"Take someone with you," Iona ordered, and it was clear in her tone it was an order and not one she cared to have debate about. As a balm to Sonakshi's pride she added, "I don't want you to wake up in another ship's hold with a fuzzy head and shanghaied aboard as their new and involuntary medic. The Anne needs you."

"Got anyone in mind or do you want me to choose?"

With her back to the hatch, Iona hadn't noticed Thomyris' arrival.

"When you are right, you are right, captain" Sona shrugged. "I don't need my patients asleep when opening them, what passes for an operating table here has straps to tie them in, or I could always request the help of someone strong and ruthless" she grinned as it was like the talk had summoned someone that met expectations. "Hello Donovan" she greeted back. "But none of us want that, bloodcurdling screams tend to be a pretty bad hit for the morale, or so I heard" she finished. Despite her attitude and past endeavors, Sonakshi liked her job, specially in the good days when she managed to save someone. Do no harm counted pretty high on her priorities, and even if she knew that sometimes it couldn't be avoided, having the proper anesthetics and painkillers was important for her.

"I'll do, captain" Sona nodded, no bullshit on a direct order like that, specially if it made sense. Normally one wouldn't have trouble with a supply run, but depending on the port certain substances were only sold by unsavory characters that were prone to violence. Iona really didn't have to massage her ego, but it still felt good hearing good things about both her competence and the need of it. "That was the prettiest thing I've heard in a long while, captain, you'll make me blush" she joked. "I haven't been on the station, so I don't know how it looks. If it's a civilized place, Thomirys should do" she gestured to the lean woman, capable enough to carry the supplies back with her.

"But if they are a bunch of sheep shagging space rednecks prone to trouble, I guess that I could make use of our first mate" she added, looking at Donovan. "I'm afraid that's your call, captain" Sona said honestly, not just wanting to defer or get the decision out of her hands, but because Iona knew what to do in those situations.

Jin-lai was glad to be aboard the St. Anne. She had spent more than enough time on Kohlberg Station and given the strong presence of the syndicate with whom she had had a strong disagreement, she had no desire to settle down on the planet .

She had hired on just a day earlier, and needed to pick up the remainder of the ships foodstuffs. Her first task on board - that is - after checking out with the basic ships systems and safety fear - had been a full Physical and Functional audit of the galley, both the inventory and systems. The previous cook had been lax at best, more than likely criminal. The next thing was to clean. She was fastidious to the point of being obsessive but her implant would give her promptings when she got overbearing about it - thanks to her parents, she thought to herself, rolling her yes.

She needed to make it on board the Annie before it left, but her outfit had a smudge. That would not do for on station, she had no wish to present a slovenly appearance. So the slender woman grabbed a fresh uniform She quickly changed, running through the ship half dressed and hopping into her outfit along the way, not shy about who saw her lithe frame.

Sure she could have finished the transactions remotely, but she wanted to touch and smell the foodstuffs they took on, as she had the earlier food load-in that she oversaw. Some of it she had turned down, especially the eel, which was rotting near the gills. Protein was protein but eel ws hard to cook in any palatable way to begin with. She suspected the previous cook had gotten some sort of kickback to accept nasty food like that, the vendor had not looked happy when she had declined to accept it earlier back on station.

So now she needed some new protein to replace that. She had heard the price of lamb had recently gone down, but so far no one aboard had seemed enthusiastic about the idea of lamb. In fact they looked at her as if she had a third eye. 'Odd' ,she has earlier thought to herself 'I wonder, what do they have against lamb?'


Jin made it before the shuttle departed and was just buttoning her last few buttons on her crisp uniform blouse as she boarded . She quietly smiled to everyone aboard offering no explanation as to why she had been half undressed , and she looked for a place to sit. She figured she was probably the smallest one on board so she could fit anywhere , if need be.

Serena caught a bit of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned away from her porthole just in time to see Jin-lai as she settled into her seat. Serena had hated the old chef with his lousy food, shotty attitude, creepy stares, and inappropriate hands. Serena was a live and let live sort of girl, and rarely if ever said no to a little meaningless sex, it was one of the reasons why she found it relatively easy to acquire illegal substances when on a planet or station. So the fact that she wouldn't allow the old chef anywhere near her was telling. And it was why when he was fired and Jin-lai was brought aboard Serena had given the girl her unquestioned loyalty despite having been too busy to exchange more than a few words with her. Her food couldn't possibly be any worse, and she was certainly way easier on the eyes.

"Hey there new meat!" Serena said to her, her tone light and mirthful. Serena wasn't much for any serious hazing, but a little lighthearted teasing wasn't going to hurt anyone's feelings. Serena had noticed the girl buttoning up her clothes as she settled in, and while Serena knew she should probably let it pass she just couldn't help herself. "So what's with the shirt? Are things way more exciting in the kitchen than I thought?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestivly. It wasn't exactly Serena at her best, but after a week hard and sober work it was just about all she had left.

Jin felt the flush of her cheek rise just a bit and she smiled nervously "well, I had a bit of a wardrobe issue, but wanted to make sure I didn't miss the shuttle. Though trust me, the galley can get exciting from time to time when I'm around" She winked with a light giggle.

" Anyhow, I'm going to try and get a some more palatable food for the crew, your old cook apparently regularly took delivery of rotten meat and just used the rejuvenator on it . That might make it safe to eat but it tastes pretty foul both taste and texture wise" she crinkled her nose at the thought. "I also want to pick up a few spares for bulbs and circuits, your cook was an asshole, he has a spare for nothing in that kitchen. I don't know how he managed to keep hot meal service going if he had to order every time he had a common part go bad. And given the way he did maintenance and upkeep, I am guessing they went bad a lot"

Jin was not concerned with people knowing she demanded a clean workplace, but her own personal cleanliness hangup was a bit of an embarrassment for her, nearly as embarrassing a some of her kinks. She settled in and waited for the shuttle to get her to the station where she had just spent a month. She wondered if there would be any misgivings from her old employer.

"Glad to hear we'll actually be eating decently until we run you off!" El grinned back over her shoulder, a wolfish gleam in her eye. She motioned to a rack behind the new crew woman and spoke again, "Not sure if you've met the captain for an extended period yet new meat but she's a bit of a safety nut. We aren't moving till you've got a helmet on."

She turned to cast a reproachful look at the ship's mechanic, a lopsided frown robbing her expression of her earlier mirth. "You too Serena, you know better. If somebody decides to punch a hole in our hull I'm not going to be the one to explain to the captain why she's down two cute crewmembers." Ideally they'd both have sealed vacuum suits like Elaine's own armored hard suit but it wasn't strictly required for such a short jaunt.

She tapped her comms to life again, once more on the All Call channel. "Last call for the Annie! If you're going stationside or planetside haul your ass to the shuttle because I'm not coming back for stragglers!"

Thomyris “Riz” Heroux
Location: Bridge

---

She had walked in to find a debate in progress, causing Thomyris to frown a little. Yes, like everyone else on the ship she shared some interest in what their next job or consignment might be. Still, she didn’t wish to be seen as an eavesdropping nuisance and waited at a respectful distance at the threshold to the bridge while the Captain, Doctor Khan, the blue-faced Donovan spoke with one another. They were looking for a volunteer. Good goddess…

Thomyris felt her heart skip a beat when the doctor noticed her, suggesting her appropriate for a civilized world in accompanying her. She didn’t know why that offended her. Am I not dangerous or considered lethal enough to bump shoulders with the underworld? Of course she wasn’t, naturally. And how would they know otherwise, having kept her past a well-guarded secret known only to the Captain? Fortunately, the good doctor nominated their First Mate. And from what Thomyris had seen so far, most worlds were full of space rednecks looking for trouble. She might not be chosen at all.

Kohlberg Station did seem civilized so far. They hadn’t tried to rob their goods, stab any of their crew, or impound their ship under false pretenses. Yet. It also meant that such a centralized and well-policed, well-regulated world would be dangerous for a runaway convict like Thomyris. She was almost tempted to ask Donovan to trade, to send him on the civilized milk runs and leave the dirty underworld ones for her. But neither option seemed viable for her.

Thomyris took the opportunity to step forward and clear her throat. “The manifest has been updated and the cargo-hold is cleared and ready for the next consignment, Captain. Any notion on that?” She inquired, datapad ready for further analytics if the Captain needed it, though there wasn’t much to tell that would be different from her last report. They had the same amount of space, same storage facilities to take on the same amount for each new consignment. The comm crackled in her ear but she ignored it. She wouldn’t be going if she could help it, but it seems she had just walked into a situation she could not.

Today was going to be Mateo Reyes' day. After letting the power loader charge he bounded through the corridors back to his bunk and proceeded to hastily back everything he needed into an old military style duffel bag, throwing swimming trunks, a package of pre-rolled joints, and some towels. He switched out of his work jumpsuit into a tanktop, boots, a pair of military style cargo pants, and set his headphones around his neck. Mateo wasn't really concerned with looking formal in something he was going to take off anyways. Giving his room one last look over and grabbed his identification papers and some spare cash and left for the shuttle.

Mateo arrived at the dull grey shuttle, something he'd taken to calling the Lil' Annie a few months ago. He began to board it in time to hear Elaine chastise the passengers on safety and hit the last call. "Y'know El, if we get hit by something that would scuttle the Lil' Annie's tiny frame nobody's going to be cute anymore. So please fly carefully yeah? I'd like to stay cute." He said setting his stuff in the back corner, where he usually sits as the biggest crew member so as not to get in the way of disembarking. Mateo looked around at Serena and... and...

"Fuck what was her name? She introduced herself last night...I am garbage with names. Ginny? Gin and Rye? Jin-Lai! That was it! Maybe I should give the medicine a break." Mateo thought seriously for a second. The mechanized man found it funny he forgot since he technically got the old cook fired. They had been walking past each other on the ship about a week ago and Mateo's arm knocked a box out of the chef's hands. As it turned out the box was full of highly valuable ship navigation components. Mateo then may or may not have broken his collar bone in the ensuing scuffle.

Mateo then realized the whole time he was thinking he was accidentally staring a hole through the new cook and looked away really quickly. He then began to attach his safety gear and sat in his spot. He reclined and stared up at the top of the shuttle, thinking of what to do at the beach. 'I could get something to eat, maybe get a nearby hotel room, definitely should make a playlist on the shuttle ride over there. I need to pick up sunblock...maybe condoms? The beach would probably have a lot of cute people in swimsuits. Things to consider.' His thoughts continued like this until the shuttle filled up.

Jin-Lai Park
Location: Shuttle "Annie"

---

Jin gratefully took a helmet "Oh yes I did notice she is a stickler for safety. I guess i can respect that", and she smiled at El and blushed when the woman called Jin 'cute'. In restaurants , as the chef, she was treated as a rockstar and given deference. Even outside them, she could barter, bargain and scrounge with the best of them, deal with regulations, medical restrictions, customs and corrupt officials with the best of them.

But in small groups around new people, sometimes she felt invisible or nervous. She was very popular in a group once she knew everyone, but being the new person was difficult. She remembered having to do it several times in her life, as her family had acquired new companies and her father went to a new posting. It got to where she was tutored much of the time. Sometimes people thought her stuck up, but really she was just a little shy sometimes.
She turned as Mateo enthusiastically boarded the little shuttle. "Thank you.. Mateo, right? Just call me Jin for short." Jin felt the flush rise further onto her cheeks as she had to explain her pronunciation sometimes to new schools. That "lai" was pronounced like "lie". So of course the nicknames would come. Liar pants on fire. She remembered once telling them it was pronounced like "lay" . She smirked, big mistake. She shrugged and shook her head sadly. What a bunch of losers most of those kids had been anyhow.

Of course, she was now a cook on a tramp freighter. It's not like her career had been going like gangbusters latey, her little voice opined in response. Then she realized tht Mateo had been looking at her rather.. oddly. Just then she decided to put on her helmet and seal it for takeoff, and secure herself in her seat. With the added benefit of them not being able to tell she was blushing.

Iona Knutesdottir
Bridge of the St. Anne
Midwatch
Tagged: Dr. Khan, Donovan, Thomyris

---

"Thomyris is with me," Iona said, still not realizing the underweight but very hard working able hand was on the bridge. "Donovan," she turned her head slowly, a habit of zero-g where a quick movement could induce an inadvertent torque and subsequent spin, until the first mate and the one member of the crew who'd been with her almost since claiming the St. Anne came into view. "Please accompany Dr. Khan. If anyone gets too grabby, try to eyeball them off instead of putting a slug in them, no matter how much she might enjoy trying to patch them back up." Usually Donovan's heavy-g build, intimidating haircut, and the warning glow of his amped up eyes when he engaged his combat mods scared off those who knew what the orange glow meant and freaked out the less sophisticated. "Roll any time lost off over to your L-ticket," their time allowed at liberty, "into your pay at one-and-a-half." With no choice but to cut into their time off, she was going to make it up to them in the bank account.

"Keep me updated," Iona ended and left the two of them to begin bickering it out.

“The manifest has been updated and the cargo-hold is cleared and ready for the next consignment, Captain. Any notion on that?”

Whether she realized it or not, Thomyris was an excellent hand and destined for more shipboard responsibility. Donovan was a fantastic first mate, loyal as the watch was long and absolutely dogged in his backing up of her command. If he had to Donovan could ably command the St. Anne and get her out of any trouble. He could even run a route but the spark of true command of a ship was absent in him. Not a bad thing at all and she wouldn't trade him for all the tea in New Ceylon, but the quirky ex-soldier wasn't going to own a bridge no matter how long he spaced.

But Thomyris, Iona sensed something in the quiet woman with the haunted eyes and a lack of confidence in her own abilities. Iona knew Thomyris could and did take on any task assigned and completed it very well but she didn't feel like she was ever good enough deep in her gut, or so Iona felt. She covered for it by always working a little bit harder, a little bit longer, taking pains so that she wouldn't be barked at for messing up and shattered by the blow to her glass fragile confidence.

If she could just grow Thomyris' self assurance there was the making of a real captain inside the girl. It was up to Iona to not only lead and safeguard her crew, she had to grow them as well.

"Yes," she answered Thomyris after a thoughtful pause. Deciding that she'd probably been there long enough to hear Iona's intention of taking Thomyris with her, Iona didn't bother wasting time saying the same thing again in a different way. "Prep my hard suit and one for yourself and meet me with them in the ventral bay in a half cycle." The Captain didn't explain further to Thomyris and continued to ignore Donovan and Khan as she keyed her comm.

"St. Anne to Annie. Advise souls on board before final departure planetside." The St. Anne was going to be left vacant she believed but wanted to make sure of that before setting an automatic watch.

Serena Driscol
Onboard Annie
Midwatch
Tagged: Anyone else aboard

---

Serena couldn't help but grin at Jun as the girl blushed over the mildest of compliments. In the back of her mind she knew it couldn't last so she was determined to. make the most of it. Her mind spun with things to say until El rudley interrupted her train of thought with a reminder of the Capitan's slavish devotion to shipboard safety. Serena made a face at El an summoned her best, most childish voice and said "I don't wanna! Your not the boss of me!" before getting up and grabbing her helmet off the rack. Safety gear in hand she leaned forward into the pilot's section and stuck her tongue out. "I'm only doing it because you said I was cute." she said, and then sat down to put her helmet on and strap in.

She glanced over at Jin and saw her duck inside her own helmet to avoid Mateo's odd stare. She gave the man a gentle kick and said, "Stop creeping out the newbie tin man. I saw her first anyway." she said and then turned back to Him. "Don't mind him. He's like a big slobbery dog, he just looks scary but all he wants is a scratch behind the ears and a belly rub." Serena said, giving Mateo a wink. "Speaking of bellies, please tell me more about your wonderful plans to change the carnival of horrors that is our galley into a palace of indulgent delights."

Elaine Reid
Onboard Annie
Midwatch
Serena, Mateo, Jin'Lai, Iona

El swung about to fix Serena with a decidedly flat stare I'm response to her petulant tone. "Unless you wanna fly the shuttle, yeah, I am your boss until such time as the Captain comes aboard." She grinned, then reached for a stylus in the center console which she flicked at the engineer. "I call you cute so often anyway that I'm worried you're going to get a big head about it."

She spun her command throne to face Mateo, fixing him with that same flat stare. "You insult my piloting again tin man and I might just space you myself. I'm more worried about one of your disappointed one night stands shooting at the Annie again. I spent two hours cleaning carbon scoring off the hull last time."

She turned last to the cook, who she fixed with a warm smile. "Good go have you aboard, Jin. So long as you don't serve us rotten meat and listen to the Captain you'll be fine. Don't do the first or someone might beat the tar out of you. Don't listen to the Captain and she will beat the tar out of you." She shuddered in her seat. "Seriously. Takes a lot to get her worked up but once she's there the woman's downright scary.

"Advise souls on board before final departure planetside."

Elaine spun back to the control panel and keyed the direct comms to the bridge. "Currently four souls aboard, Captain. Myself, the grease monkey, the tin man and Cookie. Am I waiting on anyone or am I cleared to vent the hold and depart?"

It didn't surprise her that Elaine came right back with the requested information. Like Iona she was a ship brat, born aboard and raised aboard ship and even though Elaine had a military background and Iona didn't, spacing was spacing and knowing your cargo and pax when in command of a craft was just something you did, like breathing. It would have been worrying if Elaine hadn't almost instantly responded.

"Understand four," she replied. "Annie is clear to depart. Safe flight and don't forget my spring water. St. Anne out." A few moments later a display winked to show that atmosphere was being recycled back into the St. Anne's environmental unit as the hold decompressed.

Donovan
St. Anne Bridge
Midwatch
Iona, Thomyris, Dr. Khan

---

Donovan heard the girl as she entered the bridge, his built in com system also had an audio amplifier that helped pick up soft sounds while filtering out excess background noise. Glancing over to her when she walked up without announcing herself he flashed her a rather subdued smile, well as subdue as a smile could be coming from the resident madman.

Looking to the Doctor as she laid out her options and logic behind each potential choice he smirked at her comment about sheep shagging rednecks. He liked the woman, she had a good head on her shoulders and didn't take shit from anyone.

"Aye Capt'n." He answered in his gravelly voice, attention returning to Iona when she addressed him. "I'll keep her safe from unsavory characters like myself and give you my word to keep...Damages. Yes, damages to a minimum while doing so. Though trust me, if I were to put a slug in anyone not even our personal miracle worker here will be able to fix them." A spark of gleeful madness gleamed in his orange eyes.

Looking back to Thomyris he stared into her eyes for a long moment, as fractured as his mind may be, each piece was razor sharp, and he could see the potential in the girl to one day run her own ship. "Listen well to Iona, she has a lot to teach you Ris." Reaching for his stun baton he unclipped from his belt and handed it to her. "We don't know what we are going into, and that little knife of yours may do you no good. With a flick of your wrist this will extend to its full length, on the handle is a button, press it and that little bastard puts out enough juice to put me or Mateo on the ground useless."

Moving his attention away from Ris back to Iona he met her eyes and held them. "You know how to get into my head. Anything goes wrong you let me know." The statement seemed a bit obscure, everyone knew Donovan had an internal com system, but he could block out all com signals if he wanted radio silence. Iona was the only one privy to the signal that overrode all transmissions and would get through to him just about anything. A direct link to his brain essentially that he made her swear to only use in cases of emergency as receiving that call was painful for him to put it very mildly.

Turning away from the three ladies Donovan made for his quarters. "Doc, I'm going to get my shit together, are we calling a shuttle or do you wanna try to hitch a ride?" He asked over his shoulder as he was leaving. "Let me know when you decide, I'll be waiting in the bay when you need me." Waving a hand over his shoulder as he exited the Bridge he sighed upon re-entering zero gravity and began his swim back to his quarters to get some of less than friendly toys to bring along on the trip. Call him paranoid, but years of prison, forced experimentation and soldering left him less than willing to be caught off guard for anything.

"Copy Captain, Annie lifting off and heading out." She ran a hand over several panels with clearly demarcated 'WARNING' labels which would detach the shuttle and send the commands to the larger ship to decompress the hangar bay. The air outside was drawn back into the St. Anne's circulation with a loud woosh, then the bay doors began to slide apart on recently-greased tracks.

"Spring water Captain? That's the thing you're worried about me forgetting? Not the tin man?" She grinned mischievously as she took hold of the control yoke and tapped another panel to engage the low-power maneuvering thrusters. She guided the shuttle smoothly from the hold, then angled it towards the planet side starport.

One last panel engaged the main engines and the smaller ship pulled away from it's mother with a shudder and a low rumble. "Annie safely away Captain. You're clear to move whenever you're ready." Official chatter over she let a teasing note creep back into her voice, "I'll make sure to get your water, Cap. Might just spring for a nice bottle of local whiskey with the water in it for you too!" She took hold of the control yoke and slowly ramped the engines to cruising speed. "Smooth skies, Captain. Annie out for two standard cycles."

Thomyris “Riz” Heroux
Location: Bridge
Tagged: Iona Knutedottir, Donovan

---

And just like that, it was decided. Thomyris went tight lipped behind her helm, only her light eyes visible through the visor as the Captain made her decision. No rest for the wicked naturally. She certainly didn’t feel comfortable with how the Captain seemed to inspect her before answering her inquiry. And Donovan. It was hard to ignore his eyes on anything, bright and illuminous as they were. Thomyris didn’t doubt his capacity to follow through on his threatening boasts. Thomyris wasn’t like most of her fellow crew, ex-military or some other of the sort. She was just a runaway, trying to hide, living every moment as it came. It had kept her alive for this long. Could it persist in doing so?

A looming sense of foreboding began to fill her heart, causing it to soar and create a hollowing in her chest, in which the icy fingers of fear could creep in. It was nothing out of the ordinary. She went through this anxious ordeal at every stop they went to, though most of the time it was unfounded. Yet even after two years on the run, she could not shake it off fully. They were out there, looking for her. She put a brave face on it, heeding the Captain’s instructions. A hard suit? Are we going EVA? What for…? It was a strange request, entirely unexpected. They weren’t staying on the ship or going planet-side it seemed.

She could only gasp a short sigh of relief before Donovan added his two cents. Her brow furrowed as she was handed a stun baton, which she reached out and took hesitantly. The grip and handle of the cylinder object felt much like a particular pickaxe had, numbing her arm with the reverberations as she bashed that perverted debt collector to death. Her eyes jerked immediately back up when Donovan ridiculed her knife instead, causing her to scoff in reply. “I know how to use the ears on my head, thank you.” She remarked drily, though with a half-smile, taking the baton and clipping it to a magnetic holder on her own belt. “But I will keep that in mind.” I just hope I won’t have to put it to any use. Thank you she thought, more genuinely than her open sarcasm.

While the others wrapped up, Thomyris brought up her datapad and made a quick note of the location of hard suits, requesting access to fetch the Captain’s and a generic one from the armoury. Donovan took off and she made to follow. “I’ll see you at the Ventral Bay, Captain.” She stated and turned on her heel and marched off as well to perform her immediate instructions.

Two suits, which she retrieved and hauled through the gravity-less corridors, to the ship’s ventral bay deep within its belly. It was an air-locked room and it was a safety precaution for one to adorn themselves first in a sealed suit before even stepping into the bay. The Captain’s suit was no doubt the best quality, whereas hers was a more bulky and padded suit, which would take an arduous process to adorn herself in. Fetching the suits wouldn’t take the entire half-cycle she had been allotted either, but there was nothing else for Thomyris to do. She did however send the shuttle Annie a worded message bidding them safe travels and when Captain Knutesdottir did arrive, she would find Thomyris busying herself in a spot-inspection of both suits, ensuring there was no rips, gaps, or other defections that could introduce one to the cold vacuum of space very soon.

“All’s ready, Captain. Do you need assistance with yours…?” Thomyris asked, inadvertently letting her eyes fall down the Captain’s lean frame, before catching herself. Focus, Ris! She had long since forbidden any such notions to herself. Not until she was freed of her previous obligations to the treasury of certain corporations and interests. “I assume we are going to make some repairs on the exterior hull of the Anne?” Thomyris inquired, attempting to learn more of what they would be up to as they began to prep themselves into the sealed suits.

As she pulled it up over her lower torso, her hand brushed the stun baton Donovan had given her, pausing for a moment. She thought about unclipping it and setting it on the exterior belt of the suit, rather than on her jumpsuit inside where it would be stuck. Yet she decided against it. Donovan may have meant well, but I can take care of myself no matter what anyone thinks. I won’t be needing this… She left it on her belt and pulled her hard suit over it.

Jin-Lai Park
Location: Shuttle "Annie"
Tagged: Serena Driscol and All others aboard the shuttle

---

Jin smiled at Serena even though she couldn't see it through her helmet. "Well ,mainly its going to be not taking kickbacks to accept spoiled or low grade food. We aren't a bulk cruiser, we shouldn't have to resort to bulk grade meals. So I am going to inspect everything and send stuff back when it's spoiled. Im going to focus on flavors, spices, herbs. Growing fresh herbs on the St. Anne. Baking bread fresh from whole grains instead of that chemically slabs of styrofoam-like bread he served you. Though we still have some of that if you guys miss it. It will take more work but I like work. "

"Also different flavors, a little yin and yang to wake up your tastebuds. The space air systems and lower atmospheric pressure seriously dampen our taste buds. But if I find you guys have a favorite, I will make sure to make it regularly. Im guessing you guys might like fried chops quite a bit. Or Asian barbecue "

"Who knows I may get sandwich service up and running on the Annie, too"


Now Jin quieted a bit as the captain joined them. She was an impressive woman and her family seemed to be very moral. She wonder how the Captain might feel about the activities of the less scrupulous side of her family. The real scandal of her getting involved , inadvertently or not, with organized crime wasn't in anything criminal that she did, it was that she was being a hypocrite and taking chances she needed have taken. Not fo the first time she wondered if she would seek out someone from her Uncle's organization in one of the Chinatowns on the planet below. Though she also knew where she would go if she needed to buy a weapon.

She wanted to thank the captain for hiring her on. But, the less said about Jin's reasons, the better. Now as the maneuvers into the atmosphere began, Jin quietly clutched her seat. Unfortunately, she had eidetic memory, and so she remembered every crash story she had ever read, and as well the cerebral part of her implant network had processing power to calculate every risk - all of them certainly small, but there were thousands of risks that mostly just grew as the ride progressed. She tried to shut it out by rocking back and forth a little but then stopped herself not wanting to seem more odd than she was sure she already seemed.


She had noted a lot of tension on the crew but she didn't know any of them well enough to want to pull them aside from the crowd. She would keep her eyes open and stay vigilant and hopefully it was all nothing

Iona Knutesdottir
Bridge of the St. Anne
Midwatch
Tagged: Donovan / Open

---

Clearly Iona understood the enigmatic comment from Donovan and held his gaze without looking away or shrinking back like so many other people did. "I will," she answered simply, which was odd since it seemingly put Donovan and hers positions in a flip flop. She'd only used it once before, not long after earning the privilege of knowing about it by proving to Donovan that she was worthy of being trusted. Knowing what had happened when she opened the comm directly to him meant she'd only ever use it again if the need was truly there, but she wouldn't hesitate if it was. Iona was a rip the bandage off all at once type of person.

---

Iona Knutesdottir
Ventral Bay of the St. Anne
Midwatch
Tagged: Thomyris

---

"We can check each other when we're done," Iona answered as she ran a finger down the static tab holding her coverall together. It peeled apart and she shrugged out of it, leaving it floating like a discarded skin she'd just molted from. Beneath it the Captain's skin was molded by an emerald green environmental and life support body stocking that had a wet look to it. She kept her toed socks on and reached out with one of them to snag the floating coverall. While she stripped her shard pistol out of its holster with one hand, she folded the coverall with the other and used both feet as well. If not quite as good as using two hands it was certainly adequately done and Iona tucked the coverall into an empty tool pouch on the left arm of her suit, then slotted the shard pistol into a holster on the right thigh. If she needed it, it wasn't going to be trapped inside where she couldn't do anything with it.

Iona's suit wasn't sleek and modern. It was an older generation and showed heavy use but the seals and joints were fresh looking and if the skin of the suit was battered in places it was still perfectly functional. The dimple of a high velocity micro-meteorite impact showed across one shoulder plate but it had been filled back in though it was still visible. A black and white snoopy hat, the name lost across the centuries but still called that, went on her head and she tucked all of her hair away before getting into her suit and sealing up. Thomyris would note that the Captain's suit also had toes on the feet of it, much like the socks Iona wore.

"Buddy check," she said and spent a few minutes making sure each of Thomyris' suit items were functioning and receiving a second eyeballing of her own. You could don a suit much faster and be back up and working but if you didn't have to rush why rush?

"Let's go," she said after the checks were completed and she opened the inner lock. Despite the bulk of her suit she didn't touch any part of it as she swam through feet first and grabbed onto a hold with her toes, an impossible to see hold because the suit and her helmet prevented Iona from really looking down and backwards but she'd still grabbed it on the first attempt, a hint at just how much time she had not only in space but on Dogged class freighters. Air rushed out as Thomyris cycled the lock then everything went silent as atmo was replaced by vacuum and sound ceased to exist unless it was inside the suit or transmitted by solid on solid contact.

As Thomyris followed the Captain out onto the bottom of the ship, though that didn't have any real meaning in zero-g, Iona waited until the young woman passed than clipped a five meter lead to the back of Iona's suit and the other end to the front of her own. "Aft towards where the running light is and there's an underhull storage. Take us there," she let herself float and be towed along as Thomyris' boots with their user activated magnetic soles let them clump along the St. Anne's skin. When they arrived the Captain opened the storage compartment and slowly one-handed a skeletal looking object out.

"Flying the Annie is easy. She's nimble and responsive and pretty idiot proof. Good software and hardware if a bit dated but she won't let you hurt her or yourself without nagging you to death first. In a pinch anyone, even the cook - the last cook not our new one - can get her to and fro."

As Iona spoke she began to unfold bits and pieces, and the form of a two-person gravity sled became obvious. Big reactionless thrusters fore and aft on the central spine, two barebones acceleration harnesses designed to clip onto a suit, and a small bulge in the middle that was both powerplant and a very dense, very fast spinning gyroscope.

"The St. Anne, well she's a tubby old lady but gets it done. You can't slew her around and have to think ahead, way ahead, of her acceleration and maneuver curves to make sure you don't get caught behind them. It's easy to move her in straight lines but if you don't know how to ship handle you'll bang her up but good. You have to get a feel for her right here," she slapped the middle of her suit, armored gauntlet ringing off the stiff torso piece and carrying through the rest of the suit to the interior where atmo changed it into audible sound.

Motioning towards the grav sled, she helped Thomyris get clipped in up front, the pilot's position, then crouched and pushed the sled and herself free of the hull, floating them away from the St. Anne at a slower than walking pace. Iona tugged gently on the tether and pulled herself to the sled and hooked herself in.

"Right, controls are simple. You've got ample thrust fore or aft along the central spine. The gyro helps dampen out load imbalances, like your head. You can also clutch into it and use it to change your attitude in all three directions but do it while you're not thrusting and it takes less power. There's an approach and rangefinding computer right in front of you but, oh no," Iona said with fake concern, "it's gone out on us. Whatever will we do?" A chuckle showed that the Captain was teasing, not winding the other woman up.

"If you twist her open all the way with our mass, you can pull 3-4 gee easily. I'd prefer it if you didn't though; if I'm going to be bruised in interesting spots I'd like a little fun to along with it. Keep her between zero and one point five."

"Get us to the station. It's an easy approach. Steady acceleration to the mid point then you have a choice. Burn from the front so you can still see where you're going and be pulled into the front of your suit by deceleration, or flip us and ride her in backwards. Problem there is you can't really see where you're going except in your helmet's mirrors or the display from the camera in back of your helmet."

"Oh, and where the station is now isn't where she's going to be relative to us when we started. You need to figure out where she will be and put us there."

Iona bent over a little bit, making her mass align better with the spine of the sled and pulled her feet up to tuck them into simple metal c-shaped brackets to hold them in place.

"You're going to flub up," she told Thomyris. "Otherwise, why would I be teaching you instead of ordering you to just take us there? It's okay. I won't let you get hurt or hurt anyone else and we'll be fine."

"Thomyris, you've got a keen mind for cargo and you're as hard a worker as I've ever seen. You also take things seriously. You've the makings of more than an able hand if that's where you want to go. But I need you to grow in confidence otherwise you'll never be fit to stand in front of a ship's crew and lead them. One way to do that is to learn that you can ship handle in your gut when every other system but steering and propulsion is down and you've got to nail the approach the first time or skip off the atmosphere and have a race between freezing to death or running out of atmo plant."

"If you ever want to conn my ship and for me to trust you so much that I'll not only turn it over to you but go to my bunk, show me you've got it in your gut."

"Get us to the station."