“Later,” Heath snapped.

  He ripped open his System status. That fight had flooded him with argo. He had two Skill points to spend and it took less than a thought to select [Hull Strength] and [Engine Efficiency]. Every time his mana built up enough he used one of the Skills, alternating between them. It wasn’t enough. The Loon was one of his only family members left, and Heath had only the most basic Skills to hold her together. But fucking [Personal Bank] was doing great.

  He paused his self-recriminations long enough to snap out orders. “Emerald, Copperfield, you have [Ship Maintenance] right? Use it as much as you can.”

  “Aye Captain.” The change in voice told him Copperfield had removed the mech suit. The lack of snarky comment revealed how much trouble they were in.

  Emerald didn’t bother answering, but sat down and flinched, a wave of energy seeping into the Loon. They shouldn’t be using the blocked skills, on any crew with a more competent Captain they wouldn’t have to. Heath didn’t say anything to stop them.

  “Captain?” Jenny Mae’s voice was smaller than he had ever heard it, but she didn’t waver when she got his attention. “I leveled enough for another Skill. I chose [Ship Maintenance].”

  “Thanks Jenny,” Heath said. He tried for a smile but he could tell it was more of a grimace. “Use it as often as you can.”

  She nodded and sat down, focusing on the skill he assumed.

  “Loon! Loon!” The ship hadn’t stopped bemoaning her fate since they passed through the portal. She was spiraling and Heath didn’t know how to stop it. With a silent apology, he dove into his [Ship Link] and sent a controlled slap through the bond.

  All sound cut off, leaving the bridge in uncomfortable silence. “I’m sorry, Loon. But we need you calm if we’re getting through this. We’re sending as much maintenance energy as we can into you. It’s not enough, but if we can get to the outpost, they should have all the supplies we need to do a real repair.”

  There was a long pause before the ship replied. “It is I who must apologize, Heath. Not only for my failure in the fight, but in my reaction afterwards. That was disgraceful. I am calm now.”

  “I’m going to check on the engine. Do what you can to get us moving. Questions later.” He pre-empted Ekaterina and staggered to his feet.

  Every muscle in his body ached like it had been tenderized by an overly enthusiastic culinary student, but he forced himself to move anyway. Down the hall with the maintenance systems. He stopped in front of the main life support access and sent a standard [Ship Maintenance] through the hatch. Nothing was showing up as broken there, but no need to risk it.

  His next stop was the hatch to crew quarters. The bulkhead was sealed, and the emergency foam had deployed, already harder than granite where it covered the seams and melded into the metal of the walls. It also filled the air with the stench of fried onions which, Heath knew from safety drills under his Uncle, would remain no matter how hard the recyclers worked. Not until they could do a full vent in-atmosphere.

  It was as good as it could be, given the circumstances. Which meant it was terrible, horrific, every Spacer nightmare of a hull breach right over your sleeping quarters. Heath moved on after pushing another [Hull Maintenance] into the Loon.

  The comforting hum of the engine had been replaced by a groaning, shuddering chorus of stutters and shrieks that he needed no Class instincts to identify as a problem. One of the beautiful things about modern ships was that the engine was powered and maintained by the ship’s mana field, and almost never needed attention from anyone but the ship ai, beyond routine maintenance. One of the worst things about modern ships was that to access the engine required a trip through a crawl space designed for a child. At least on ships that hadn’t been spatially expanded over a few decades or centuries.

  But Heath was hardly going to ignore the problem because the engine was difficult to reach. And he had learned under an Uncle that believed any Spacer should know everything there was to know about manual ship maintenance. Any nascent claustrophobia had been overwhelmed years earlier by the number of gross jobs Heath had been assigned in every crevice and cranny the Loon had to offer.

  He made it through and emerged into the tiny ledge surrounding the engine. Thousands of years ago, the breakthrough to create an engine that could run almost entirely on the potential from forcing an aetherized-argo differential had revolutionized trade and sent each of the major political powers into an era of rapid expansion. It was an existence superimposed on the metaphysical and physical planes simultaneously, and each such engine was the product of at least one rank-four Classer. Which was one of the major reasons they were so fucking expensive, and even the scrappiest junker was harder to buy and worth more than most unClassed made in a lifetime.

  Normally the massive edifice would be a source of pride.Gleaming pipes steaming with puffs of mana and argo, branching out in a thousand places to power the rest of their systems and thread through the whole ship to act as the Loon’s veins. Argo-infused oil lubricated the moving parts, and scented the whole room like magic waiting to happen.

  Or it would, if the engine hadn’t been massively overtaxed in the last battle. Now Heath could spot at least a half dozen places that would need attention before they could do more than drift with a purpose. It was time to get to work.

  He shuffled to the first problem he could see, back sliding along the wall and scuttling sideways like a crab with too-few limbs. When he arrived, he could feel the blockage through his connection to the Loon, turning what should be a steady flow into a belching trickle. He placed both hands on the pipe and cast [Engine Efficiency]. Mana flowed out of him in a torrent so fast he almost lost control. With a grunt, he tightened his grip and forced the mana to listen to him. Clear the blockage and reinforce the pipe, he forced the energy to bend to his will. Black gunk, usually taken care of in the normal operating of the engine, was the result of some of their maneuvering, rapidly draining mana while pushing to the limit of the Loon’s acceleration. Heath moved up a boost to the overall engine on his mental list of where his crystalized argo would do the most good.

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  The flow of mana cut off, and Heath examined the pipe. No more blockage and it was back to gleaming and healthy. Now he just had to do that a hundred more times.

  Heath made it through the half dozen worst spots before his mana petered out and he needed a break. Which meant he couldn’t procrastinate any longer on his other major problem.

  “It’s time, Loon. Where are they?”

  “On the bridge, Heath. And thank you.”

  He paused where he had been crawling back to the rest of the ship. “You don’t need to thank me Loon. I’m a Captain and you’re my ship. We’re family. I’ll always help you.”

  “And I you.”

  It was another tight squeeze and short walk and Heath rejoined the others on the bridge. He walked in on Copperfield lecturing, while Jenny Mae took notes on a pad. Which was so out of place he had to do a double take to confirm what he was seeing. Ekaterina was in the far corner, arms crossed and glaring at everyone else. Altogether the scene was better than Heath had expected.

  “Regular use is good, the Skill and the construction of the ship both direct where the energy needs to go. But if you can direct it, then it’s even better. Not as good as the specialized Skills, but anything helps. So focus on the hull when you activate it next time.”

  Jenny Mae nodded and closed her eyes. Through his own Class resonance, Heath felt the chunk of mana as it detached and seeped into the ship, seeking places to repair. He raised his eyebrows when most of it went to the hull and another section to the engine. A little also cleaned the area at Jenny Mae’s feet but that was normal.

  “Well done,” Heath offered.

  “Thank you! I’ve already leveled the Skill twice!”

  “I’m glad to hear it. We need all the help we can get right now.”

  “I too am thankful,” the Loon spoke. “That you have chosen something to help me that I know was not in your plan for your Class is truly an honor. I can only hope to one day return such grace.”

  Ekaterina twitched and Heath supposed it was time to address the hippobream in the room. He slumped into the chair and went to wipe his hands down his face. Then stopped when he realized he had engine grime on his hands and only one sonic-cleaner in the cargo bay for everyone to share.

  “So.” He started, then stopped to consider where to even begin.

  “So.” Ekaterina agreed.

  “The Loon is alive, aware. Some sort of one-in-a-million reaction to going through an astral storm, and the way it stirred up the argo, along with how the mana ended up flooding through the ship. As a side effect, we realized the Loon’s argo matrix isn’t as static as some ships. When we anchor a new ability, the Loon is able to grow it. Slowly, but we haven’t run into a limit yet. We’re keeping it quiet so no one gets any ideas about trying to steal her.”

  Ekaterina stared for a long moment then barked out a short laugh. “Do you have the luck of the gods or are you some long lost imperial prince?”

  “What?”

  “The condenser.”

  “That was my uncle’s.”

  “Escaping from Classers that should have been able to kill you. More than once.”

  “Well that was a team effort.”

  “Stumbling on a dungeon that will be the pillar of whatever house gets ahold of it.”

  “I mean it’s not like things went great,” Heath gestured around to the Loon at large. This was not what he had expected the noble’s reaction to be.

  “And to top it off, a starship that is probably unique in the known universe.”

  “Which my Uncle died for.”

  That brought the woman up short, but only for a moment. “My condolences. But you must see how it looks. This ship…” she trailed off for a moment and then started pacing the bridge. It was the most agitated Heath had ever seen her.

  “I don’t think you understand how insane this ship is.”

  “We do!” Heath shouted. “That’s the whole fucking point. We know, that’s why we weren’t saying anything. Every pirate crew or gods-forbid the fucking Syndicate would kill us for a chance to get the ship.”

  “Not that I would serve such vile people.”

  Heath’s anger ebbed at the Loon’s pronouncement. “Of course not, thanks Loon. But yes, Ekaterina, we are aware of the problem.”

  “No, you’re aware of the Rim problem. Where a few piddly little criminals might kill you and use the ship themselves. That is the least important part of the issue. Battleships, or the really ancient yachts and trade ships, they have had more argo poured into them than any of us will see in our lifetimes in order to get to the level of space, luxury, or capacity for violence that can cow an entire world into submission if needed.

  “A ship that can grow and think for itself is useful. And it means you might even see some of those heights before you die. But the ability to make a ship like that? If anyone finds out, you better believe they’ll be tossing any random skiff into an astral storm to get it to happen again. And if they realize that one random rank-one Captain is the person who knows that, then you will tell them. If it really is one in a million, well they’ll just use a million ships until they get another one. Then they’ll figure out how to do it faster next time. ”

  “So same problem, richer assholes,” Emerald said.

  “Well, yes.” Ekaterina slumped when none of them reacted to her diatribe.

  “Same problem, same solution,” Heath said. “We don’t tell anyone. Right?”

  He stared straight at Ekaterina. There would be no backing down or keeping the peace this time.

  “I won’t tell anyone,” she confirmed. “On my honor and Class.”

  A ripple went through the argo, one Heath wouldn’t have felt if his own class wasn’t aching and sensitive from the day’s abuse. Not quite an enforced oath, but not nothing either.

  “Thank you.”

  “Your dedication is appreciated, Crewmember Ekaterina. I too thank you for the commitment. And may I say it is a pleasure to formally meet you. I look forward to further conversations, as it has been so long since I saw the Core, and those memories are indistinct at best.”

  “Umm, nice to meet you too.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” Jenny Mae said, leaning over to pat the other woman on the arm.

  “Indeed, your courage and dedication have been noted, and I am most glad Heath ignored my advice to vent you out of the airlock after your theft.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “Now that we’re all friends, we need to talk about what comes next.” Heath got them all back on track. The first part of the conversation had gone better than he thought it would, if he was honest, but they weren’t done with difficult decisions.

  “Loon, can we handle a jump in this condition?”

  “I’m sorry Captain, but I do not believe so. However,” she continued as every member of the crew blanched, “your maintenance today already made a difference. I believe with another two days of repair, we will be able to make it through the gate without damage.”

  “But?”

  “But we will need to remain grounded for some time when we reach safety. For the Skills to have enough time to work and for the repair work to settle. A shipyard would be better, but the closest such location is too far to risk, in my opinion.”

  “Easy question, isn’t it?” Emerald interrupted. “Back to the creepy monks or forward to the explorer’s base?”