Waking up the next morning, Heath’s memories of everything after talking with Emerald were a blur. But he was clean and not starving so he’d call that a win. He had survived and now it was time to reap his rewards. Folding his hands behind his head, he pulled up his System notifications.

  Then he nearly choked on the changes he saw. His skills had shot up, life and death danger would do that, he supposed. And he’d hit level 25.

  Distributing attribute points was easy. It was the Skills where he was unsure. He recalled Emerald’s advice and thought about who he wanted to be. A good Captain was the first thing that sprung to mind. Like his Uncle. Doing right by his crew, and the Loon.

  He pictured himself standing in front of them, blasting out with magic or a massive gun. It looked fun, and something he wanted to try at some point, but it wasn’t him. Heath would fight, but he was first and foremost a Captain, not a dungeoneer.

  The image morphed into a fleet of ships, with the Loon at the center, all flying this way and that, some delivering cargo, some with passengers. Maybe a few were even mercenary craft, acting as escorts or subduing colony worlds. That didn’t fit either. He wanted to know the people and the ships that worked for him, not move them around like pieces on a board. A single crew and a unique ship was already plenty to handle. The Admiral and its assorted skills went off the list.

  The next snapshot that came to mind wasn’t made up. It was yesterday, when Heath felt a surge of borrowed strength, that let him stay alive. Emerald would be horrified to know they were on Heath’s list of inspirations but that didn’t stop him from considering that kind of build. Not the skillset with the most glory, or dishing out the most damage in a fight. But holding the center, and keeping his crew and his ship strong around him.

  That resonated with something deep inside. Not questioning it, he pulled up the skill trees available to him. Above [Leadership] was a branching path of Captaincy skills. He mentally commanded the combat and control options to fade back, and focused in on the support tree. The options were unimpressive. Basic buffs he knew would only show their worth once they’d leveled up.

  After some consideration he narrowed it down to two. He contemplated the [Healing Touch] skill. It was as basic as they came. More of a suggestion to get better than any sort of true healing. If anyone got a real injury they would rely on the medical supplies stocked all over the ship. After a stiff internal debate, he discarded the option. Unless he was committing to some sort of Healer/Medic/Doctor class, it would never be worth it.

  He thought about taking [Surge], what he was sure Emerald had used the day before. For a cost of mana, and a temporary reduction in his own stats, he could give a boost to anyone in his vicinity. Which would be great in a pinch, but would leave him even more vulnerable in a dungeon, where the person taking the most risks already had a mech suit.

  With a mental command, he selected [Shield]. The mana inside his body solidified and an instinctive understanding of how to use the skill flooded through him. It was a process that didn’t hurt, but still left him aware of his insides in a way he would rather never be. Using the skill would be simple in theory, spend mana, block attacks. Heath had a feeling that in practice it would be anything but.

  For once Heath was the first person moving around on the ship. Which meant he had a few moments to prep his energy sludge in silence, rather than in front of Jenny Mae’s dismayed enthusiasm as she lectured him about the ideal ship-board diet as described in the Eskelian Navy Standard Protocols.

  His peace lasted about five minutes before the rancher-turned-Administrator arrived for her own breakfast. She looked forlorn as she shook her head at Heath’s shake, opting for the exact ratio of nutrient goo designed to optimize her daily performance. Joining him at the table, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “Two Class levels and four Skill levels! I can’t believe it.”

  “What does that bring you up to?” Heath asked.

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  “I am officially a level 9 Administrator. At your service.” She dipped into a silly little bow to top off the declaration.

  “That’s fantastic! The early growth with all the new skills is the best. Pick up anything good?” He threw his hands up as if to ward her off, “not that you need to tell me if you did. But it will help with the planning.”

  “I picked up [Perfect Recall]. At higher levels the mana cost gets down to almost nothing, less than my regen rate for a perfect memory. For now it still takes a solid chunk of my pool every time I access it.

  “So no reliving the best movie you’ve ever seen in high definition then?”

  “Not yet!” she replied, chipper as always.

  “I also picked up [Signal Boost]. I figured we might be laying low now, but we won’t always. And [Improved Processing] . Staying up last night looking at all the dungeons was fun, but my head hurt by the end.”

  Heath nodded and sucked down more of his fake smoothie to avoid answering. It was touching in a way he was never prepared for when anyone casually implied they were going to be together in the future. It wasn’t official, and Heath knew better than anyone that nothing was set in stone besides him and the Loon. Most Spacers wouldn’t stick with the same ship their whole career. But it was a nice way to wake up nonetheless.

  Eventually Copperfield staggered in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He didn’t go with Heath’s mix of nutrient sludges, optimized for taste, nor with Jenny Mae’s cheerful acceptance of the ideal-but-disgusting option. Defying all logic, he picked one seemingly at random, poured out a glass and then chugged it down all at once, tossing the cup into the sonic dishwasher for later. It was only around thirty seconds before he slumped onto the seat next to Heath.

  “What about you?” Jenny Mae turned to their new addition. “Any gains from the fight?”

  That perked him up in a way ship rations couldn’t match. “I am officially level 21.”

  “That’s great!” Jenny Mae said, launching into an impromptu lecture on leveling philosophies. Complete with citations. The information wasn’t new to anyone but neither he nor Copperfield felt the need to stop her. Some of the historical Classers she mentioned were ones he hadn’t heard before and he wasn’t above making use of someone else’s work when it came to him free of charge.

  By the time they reached the bridge, they found Emerald already in their station, watching Ekaterina with half-closed eyes where she was perched behind the weapons console.

  “Nice of you to join us. I was under the impression Spacers kept to a tight schedule.” Their passenger/thief had not softened at all after their discussion of the previous day. Why would a scion of House Althalas deign to respect the people who ferried her around?

  Heath chose not to respond, getting settled in the Captain's seat that was feeling more comfortable by the day. His hands ran over the controls, getting reacquainted after the short absence. When he let his mind relax, he could almost feel the Loon, like an infinitely complex extra limb, sending him the barest wisp of feedback.

  “What have you decided?”

  Ekaterina's comment broke him out of the connection. It was time to get started anyway. “Jenny, what do you have for us on those local dungeons?”

  Loon had done a large part of the filtering, but they were still trying to keep Ekaterina in the dark as to just how special the ship was. She had already stolen from them once.

  “Since we’re light on cargo at the moment, we have quite a few options! But I think we should aim for the Hummingbird Cluster.”

  Heath winced at the reminder they were currently a cargo ship without any cargo. To distract himself, he brought up the atlas entry for the proposed target. A series of star systems where the gate-linking formed an intricate knot, with dozens of low-level dungeons. So many, in fact, that the cluster was an established dungeon farm. The local economies were so interwoven with the reward drops that thousands of Classers could make their living either delving or working with the materials.

  It was a good choice. They could work short hops between the systems for a small income, and delve on the side. If growing stronger was their goal, there weren’t going to be better options in this region of the Rim. Heath thought back to the previous day, and the implacable grip of a Classer stronger than himself, forcing him to obey.

  “Lay in a course.”

  The Loon followed his command, without commentary in deference to their still partial-secret. A path illuminated on the main view screen. It would be a dozen jumps and just over three months of travel.

  A perfectly normal timeframe for a trip like that, and one that was suddenly far too long for Heath. He could still feel the hostile classers closing in behind him, only staying ahead by dumb luck and the help of his crew.

  “Lower risk thresholds and recalculate.”

  The silence on the bridge was telling, but Loon followed his directive. For an extra five jumps they could cut it down to only one month to get to the closest part of the cluster. It would be a miserable month, but they could handle it.

  “I don’t know kid, the Trellis System is a bear to fly through.” Emerald said, speaking for the first time that morning.

  “We can handle it. You all will get to see Betsy in action.” Copperfield was grinning at the prospect.

  Heath himself could admit he was curious about the mech. Shipboard weapons could only account for so many threats out there. For everything else, personal combat methods were necessary. Legend said high-level Classers could survive in the void, but for everyone else, the mechs that let a pilot leverage their own Skills were the best option. A few of the delving crew his Uncle used to employ doubled up as ship support, but they were the first crew members snatched up when it was clear Heath couldn’t even store all of their gear, let alone pay them.

  “We’re doing it,” Heath announced.

  “Time to jump, seven hours.” Loon’s voice echoed into the swirl of anticipation that had taken over the crew.