It had been three weeks since she and Manok had disembarked the “Edmund Fitzgerald”, and it had been a rough three weeks at that. They were lost in the hustle and bustle of a frontier station that was servicing a ton of refugees, sleeping in hallways, and trying hard to get a paying gig on a privateer.

It had been hard: harder than Izzy thought. The station was busier, the people more desperate. It had taken them a few days to work their way from the polished plastic and cool blue areas of the passenger area to the more utilitarian corridors of the spacer areas.

It had taken her a few more days to find what she needed. A bar, where station staff hung out and spent their pay. A few days watching, and finding a crowded card table where a certain grade of staffers gambled. A crowded table meant an honest card game, and an honest cad game meant the dealer made his money other ways. She had to watch, make sure the dealer wasn’t using or selling, before she was certain he was honest.

Two days ago she made her move, sitting down at his cad table with a drink in hand. It was exactly halfway between paydays, and the bar and the table were nearly empty. Those that were bad with their money were already broke, those that were good were not yet celebrating. Within the hour she had lost half her stake, but was certain the game was fair.

This was her element, the cat and mouse game for info. She knew the dealer knew she knew the game was fair. He probably knew she had purposefully made a few bad bets to find out, too. The next hour saw her steadily rebuild her stake, letting him know she was good after all. Another player joined the table, but the dealer and her cleaned him out in no time, and he left scowling.

They made the small talk: Gossip, talk of the Bismark, of the people passing through the station coming and going. Conversation soon moved to gig prospects. Any Privateer looking for an Engineer and a Gunner? No?

The dealer wasn’t going to give it up. There were rumors, there were a lot of ships of an unsavory sort showing up in the lower berths. Station Control was trying to manage- security was on alert, things were getting tense. Soon, there would be an incident- a fight, an industrial accident-and docking permits would be suspended. If Izzy was going to get off station, she would have to do it soon, or she would have to find a paying gig on station.

After three hours, she had the hand she wanted. She went all in, lost big, lost her stake. Wasn’t there anything he could do to help her?

The dealer smiled. There was one ship he heard of.

“Lockwood Folly.That’s the one you want.”

“Any Reason?”

“It’s...It’s a good ship. But the Captain...Jameson. She can’t keep a crew.”

“A captain that can’t keep a crew isn’t good in any way, shape or form.”

“No. It’s not like that. She treats ’em well. She pays well. She just prefers new crews over old. I hear there’s certain irregularities in the running of that ship.”

“Like what?”

“Like Jameson makes decisions no other Captain would make. She’s one of the best, but she doesn’t take part in the spacer community. They say she had a ship blown out from around her, lost her family, including children. She gave the order to abandon ship, was the last one on a lifeboat, but the only one that survived. She was in sleep for over two years, and still looks for the missing pods in the hope her children are out there. But the pods would have run out of power long ago by now.”

Izzy Shuddered. “That doesn’t sound good at all.” She held up two fingers for the bartender, who brought their fresh drinks right over.

“It’s worse. She doesn’t show herself on the Folly. She was burnt in the attack. Half her face was burnt by radiation, and the medical nanos tried, but kept frying up. So now half her face is corroded down to the bone, a death’s mask. She doesn’t wear prosthetics, you know.”

“Why are you telling me this? This doesn’t sound good. This doesn’t sound good at all.”

“Because you and your friend are running out of time and options. You want a good ship? The folly is a good ship. There’s worse. There’s privateers out there where you’ll be sold for meat if they don’t make their quota, and I’ve never heard of that from the Folly. You’re going out there into the frontier, and you ain’t gonna have a lot of protections. But the Folly...Well, that’s protection enough. Jameson uses fear to keep the bad guys off her ship. That means it runs tight. That ain’t what a lot of these spacers are looking for out here, especially right now. They’ll take the patrol contract from the Senate, but they ain’t looking for a confrontation and’ll make themselves scarce once signing a contract. But Jameson, if you sign with the Folly, you’ll be looking for the Bismark, and if’n you find it you will engage. That pays well.”

“What are the odds She’ll find it?”

“Same as Anyone else over two centuries...Nil. My money is on the Bismark. Well,” He grinned, “You’re money, anyway.”

***

Now, two days later, Manok was seated at an interview console inside a small office at a lower berth of the station. Behind them, through the grimy glass window, were flashing yellow lights and palettes containing boxes of supplies. The work crew of the Folly and the station were working hard outfitting the ship for another patrol.

In front of them was the ship’s Second Officer, a large lizard-like creature named Shah Lanir. Shah had sharp teeth, and a disturbing habit of looking in two places at the same time. He barely fit behind the standard issue desk in the room. Izzy thought he tried to project an aura of bemusement and friendliness, but failed miserably.

Shah looked up from the console and gave Manok the one-eyed once over, keeping the other planted firmly on Izzy.

“Are you familiar with this class of ship, then?”

“I Believe so,” Manok replied.

“Tell me something I don’t know then.”

Manok sighed.

“The ramjet on this class have never met performance efficiencies. You have probably had it upgraded about thirty years ago. Newer models just aren’t economical for this line of work.”

Shah grinned even wider. “Go On.”

“Full crew complement is around One-hundred-twenty-eight. However, since the Captain only uses this for Frontier Patrols, you have probably retrofitted Passenger compartments and cargo space for defensive and offensive capabilities, lowering the crew complement to about eighty-six.”

“That’s impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“What if I said, With four gunships and full offensive outfitting, we have seventy-four crew? What about that?”

“I’d say that’s impressive. I guess you’d have some of the engineering replaced with bots. My job would be to maintain the bots and not ship functions. But without an AI to control them, I don’t see how you would be able to maintain advanced functions.”

“Very good. We have ways to maintain control of the bots. I think you’ll be intrigued, but I need you to sign on and sign the non-disclosure first. Sorry. I think we could use you. You’ll meet the Chief once he’s aboard.”

Shah reached across the Desk to shake Manok’s hand, then turned to Izzy.

“And I guess you expect to be a pair then?”

She stepped forward and sat next to Manok.

“Yes, Sir.”

Shah Frowned.

“ I don’t like hiring romantic partners at all.”

“We’re not.”

“Really? I Assumed-”

“No, just business.”

“Hmmph. Mammals. Here.” He motioned her to put her arm on the scanner. She did, and her info began to scroll up over the display. She saw a lot of red.

Shah’s frown turned into a scowl. Lot’s of scowls when her history was read, she was beginning to notice.

“Oh. Well. This isn’t good.”

“I know Sir.”

“Oh. Well...Oh.”

“I’m sorry Sir.”

Shah turned to Manok.

“Are you sure you want to jeopardize this contract?”

Manok shrugged.

“Well, I can certainly see who wears the pants in this relationship.”

Shah began entering commands into the console. Slowly the red lines became yellow, then green. Izzy was impressed. He was good at sorting performance and history. She didn’t know she had that much positive history.

“Well, I see you’re really a good gunner after all. And you are in luck. I need to hire two... half our gunners left our employment this patrol. I think they were romantically involved, but again, I’m not good with Mammals.”

Izzy held her breath.

“And the pilot you’ll be working with is a similar specie to you, I see. That helps. Are you telekinetic?”

“No, Sir.”

“Pity, that. Though it is rare. Oh! There it is!”

He stabbed at the screen. Izzy leaned over, but couldn’t make out what he was looking at.

“Do you know Magistrate T’kar?”

Her heart sank.

“I’m sorry Sir...It was my latest indiscretion.”

“Well, he’s given a bonus to anyone hiring you for a patrol. That makes my job a lot easier, then, doesn’t it?”

*Why the little bug,* Izzy Thought. *If he told her that, she wouldn’t have had to stoop to this level in the first place.*

Shah stood, his head almost reaching the ceiling of the cramped room and smiled his toothy smile. He extended a hand.

“Welcome aboard the Folly!”

Next Chapter: New Chapter6