"You two can bunk in these berths," Shah said. "Throw your bags to the left."

Izzy ducked into the small door. The room was long and narrow with two sets of bunks on each side, both an upper and lower. Eight crewmen would be in here then, she thought. The far wall had a large desk in front of it, set up with a variety of books and gear, and there was only a small alcove behind it for shelves. Izzy threw her bag on the upper bunk nearest the door and stepped further into the room, allowing Shah and Manok to enter.

Something about the room bothered her, and it took her a second to place it.

"Wait- Is this the chapel?"

"Ma’am," Shah replied," If you need a chapel, you’re on the wrong ship." He grinned broadly and slapped her on the back. "Now, follow me."

Izzy and Manok Tossed their bags onto the bunks and hurried to catch up to Shah, who was already charging down the narrow hallway. They caught glimpses of various rooms, flew past a small galley, a recreation room, a gym and showers. Most of the lights in the ship were either off or set low, and the crew’s quarters still had a haunted, abandoned look.

"Most of the crew is still off-ship. We’ve got two days to loadout and then we’re off. Manok, you’ll probably meet the Chief Engineer tomorrow. Since I don’t have much for you to do now, follow along. I want Izzy to meet the First Officer and her pilot."

"Will I have time to see my station?" Manok asked.

"Of course." Shah stopped sprinting and turned back to them. He leaned against a bulkhead, He reached up and absently patted an exposed pipe with a talon. "The Folly pretty much runs itself. It’s an old ship, but Captain Jameson keeps it up with the best money can buy. The systems are reliable. She’ll get us to wherever The Bismark is, and then it’ll get dicey. If we see our bounty, you’ll be expected to earn your keep, and you will earn it, trust me. But until then, we run her pretty loose. If you fit in, you’ll be treated like family. If you don’t, well maintenance can always store you out of the way somewhere in a sleep pod, I suppose."

He grinned his unsettling grin and turned. "This Way."

Shah Lanir ducked into an open hatch and waited until they were through. Manok had to squeeze his bulk through before Shah slammed it shut and sealed it behind them. This section of the ship was brightly lit, and had a different feel than the quarters. The bulkheads were painted a single steel gray, pipes and electrical components were more neatly arranged along the ceiling. It was cleaner and the air was fresher. Izzy thought that there might be more oxygen pumped through here. They passed a couple of larger staff rooms. Unlike the quarters, each room could be sealed off from the hallway with a hatch. Each had a large light table in the center, and rows of monitors and equipment along the far wall. At the other end of the hall was another hatch. Shah spun it opened and motioned them through. Izzy Ducked and stepped into the next room.

It was the flight deck: a large, domed space filed with machines and equipment, catwalks and gangways. The floor was a metal grate: the engineering deck was visible below through the gaps and hatches. Above, a partial deck encircled the room with racks of torpedoes and magazines. The Armory.

Izzy counted eight launch tubes around the outer rim of the flight deck, arranged like the legs of a spider. At each was a small, two-person harpoon ship, of varying ages and models. At least one was outfitted with the distinctive antenna array of a recon ship. In between them, three airlocks on a side. Only the ones on the right were open, with small tractors bringing supplies from the station aboard. On the far side, a small shuttle and Repair pod were temporarily parked.

Ahead, toward what could now only be the bow of the ship, there was a large boxy room jutting out over the space, set partially between the two decks. A glass window was set about even with the upper armory, and metal stairs ascended to a door set in each side. Under neath the overhang was a series of tables and chairs, with a desk and podium set near the wall of whiteboard screens. Flight ops above, Briefing below.

Shah Lanir punched at his tablet and motioned Manok down a steep ramp without breaking stride.

"Manok, Chief Engineer L’Strad is waiting below to see you.Have fun, sir."

Manok gave a quick salute. "You too, Sir," They grinned at each other and Manok bounded off.

Shah turned to Izzy.

"And that leaves you. It’s time you met Flight Command."

He grabbed one of the metal railings and started climbing the stairs to the flight deck. Izzy struggled to keep up. She had pretty much figured out the layout of the Folly by now: from the outside it would look like a flattened, elongated turtle. Bridge and ops up front, The shell would be Flight deck and Engineering. Quarters in the rear. If the dome of the Flight deck was the top, then below would be sensors and defense. In the exact near cener would be the singularity that powered the ship. In the front, under the bridge would be the ramjet ports to scoop up the needed hydrogen, towards the rear the thrusters and FTL Drive. Artificail gravity would be provider by unshielding the singularity and managed through dampers. This was a warship and a privateer, she thought, but it’s doable.

"This might be a little unnerving, so if you have second thoughts, I’d keep them to yourself," he shouted to nobody ahead of her. "You are about to meet our First Officer and your Flight Commander."

He ducked into the flight deck and let Izzy through. Her eyes took a second to adjus to the darkness. The Command deck was empty. Most of the consoles were dark: only red and yellow blinking indicators lit the room.

"Bob, can I get some lights, please?"

A disembodied voice spoke up, the sound loud enough to carry throughout the small room.

"Certainly Shah. I’m sorry. I was preoccupied with the Captain"

A red glow slowly started from fixtures along the wall, slowly brightening the room. Izzy still didn’t see anyone. But a Camera on an articulated arm detached itself from a central console and swung her way.

"Bob, this is Izzy. She’s signed on to be Telten’s gunner. Izzy, now before you panic, Bob isn’t an AI. He’s a worldshard."

Worldshard. Izzy felt like fainting and grabbed at the console to steady herself.

In the entire history of the Second Confederation, There had been only two dozen worldbeings discovered. It was not known exactly what they were, but they all generally shared a few characteristics. They were all found on temperate worlds covered in shallow seas with no large landmasses. They were all intelligent. And they were all deadly. If the AIs were ghost stories told to little kids, then the Worldbeings were nightmares that kept the adults up.

Some believed the worldbeings were the remains of ancient civilizations. Nanotech run amok, and devouring and rebuilding all biomass in a single, hive organism. The worlds they inhabited were rebuilt to support the worldbeings. Others believed they were natural byproducts of evolution: intelligent slime molds and jellyfish colonies that grew to enormous sizes.

But however intelligent they became, they were trapped on their own worlds. Whatever art or culture they could create out of themselves, they were alone. So when spacefarers first encountered them, the worldbeings were curious. Any who came into contact were devoured, assimilated into the worldbeing’s consciousness. In this way the worldbeings learned that they had sinned by murdering other intelligent (although lesser) beings.

So a call would go out from the world being to the Second Confederation. Here was a intelligent world seeking to communicate with other races and civilizations. A world being would propose a bargain: It would allow pieces of itself -Worldshards- to be collected by the second Confederation. These pieces would contain vast intellegences, racial memories, cultures and science unfathomable.

In return, they would be enshrined in the largest governments, learning facilities and research labs, The worldshards would experience all the Second Confederation had, and be returned to the world being at some later date, centuries away, to be reconciled. In this way the vast oceans of the hivemind would get to experience the larger Galactic Culture.

It was a faustian bargain at it’s core. Any Empire that accepted a Worldshard did so knowing that all its secrets would be laid bare. It knew that the Worldbeing had its own agenda; inscrutible and unknowable. In the short run, it would gain status, power and prestige. But in the long run… There were stories of empires who just vanished when the worldshard returned to its Worldbeing.

And here was one running the Folly.

"I don’t understand..what is a worldshard doing here?"

Bob answered, through a speaker embedded on the arm he swung towards her.

"The short answer is the Folly is an old vessel. At one time it had an AI to run the various components. When the AI was decommissioned, I negotiated a contract to be allowed to pilot the ship myself. If you notice, there are many hydraulic tubes running parallel with the electronics? My biomass is stored throughout the ship. Do you want the long version?"

"Miss Concannon," Shah Lanir gently put a paw on her shoulder, "Please. If you want to reconsider?"

Reconsider, what?, she thought. She had no place to go, and now she had made a deal with a ship run by a devil out of legend.

"No, I think I’m good.."

:Good. Good. The captain will be aboard soon, too. I bet you can’t wait to meet her, either!"

Shah Lanir’s grin cut across his reptilian face like a scalpel.