Heath bounded to his feet the second the clock ticked over the hour, marking the end of his personal purgatory. No more interviews with the absolute dregs of the Atala system. No more sitting around at all. Just being in the same system, doing the same thing for long hours each day was making him antsy. Time to go.

  Jenny Mae must have agreed. That or he was easy to read. She joined him without protest and didn't bother to argue for any of the sad excuses for Spacers they had just listened to drone on about how they were the next greatest thing on the Rim.

  Just before leaving the job hall, with a big thanks to their favorite waitress/local insider, Heath put up an ad for a passenger berth. At the lowest fare rate it was legal to charge, Heath still wasn’t optimistic anyone would take it. Savvy travelers would either get a spot on a ship with actual amenities, or would find a way to work as a crewmember on the journey, making a few creds and getting where they needed to go. But it didn’t cost them anything so it was worth a shot. As long as they made more than it cost to feed the person it was a net gain.

  The Loon’s lot was bustling when they got back. Ships couldn’t preen, but Heath knew if it were possible, the Loon would. A dozen people scampered around, bringing cargo for their run. He jogged the rest of the way to meet them and went to work.

  Nothing could wipe the smile off Heath’s face. With Copperfield and Jenny Mae there to help, and Emerald providing ‘moral support’ while they leaned against the entryway and glared at any newcomers, they got everything stowed without issues. Except for the occasional bumped elbow or the one pile that fell over because it wasn’t secured properly. They would learn. Extra hands meant Heath had the time to go through and double check that everything was in its proper place and ready for liftoff.

  “I guess I was wrong about the rearranging,” Jenny Mae said as she surveyed the hold.

  It was packed tight, only standard-width paths for safety and access. Heath nodded absently and went over the straps one last time. They were a backup to the backup, but he knew if any of them were loose, it would be during takeoff that they’d find out. There would be no damaged cargo on his ship.

  Copperfield was draped over one pile, moaning about his aching back. Heath ignored him. Jenny Mae had worked just as long, with a fraction of the stats, he would be fine. Or he would figure it out eventually.

  “Use your legs next time, idiot.” Emerald did not have Heath’s compunctions about criticizing their new crew.

  They weren’t wrong though so Heath didn’t mention anything. He was too busy spiraling about how he was now in charge of people. When was it appropriate to correct someone’s lifting form? How did you build rapport? It was all hitting him at once now that they were actually here.

  A tingling in the back of his brain told him the [Leadership] skill had something to say about that. At low levels all the effects were passive, but it was clearly telling him something. He leaned into his instincts and started talking.

  “Great work today. Our departure slot is in five hours.”

  “Ugh. Hate flight slots in the middle of the night,” Copperfield said. The man was still draped over the cargo, but had found the strength to flip over. It looked profoundly uncomfortable.

  “Everyone does. But we’ll take what we get for now. The fees for switching times aren’t something I’m going to take on for quite some time.”

  “Most of our next stops on this run are stations,” Jenny Mae added. “Won’t be an issue for a while.”

  “That’s true,” Heath said.

  “Captain's pet.”

  Now [Leadership] was burning. The pleasant feeling of an improvement was replaced with a warning. Not one that Heath needed. He was young but he wasn’t stupid, he knew that couldn’t stand.

  “Hey.” He took the time to make eye contact with each member of his crew. Emerald’s were jaded, (pun intended. Heath suppressed the smirk and kept going.) Jenny Mae looked eager, if flustered from the comment. Cooperfield was defiant.

  “Maybe on your last ship, that was how you talked to the crew. But on the Loon, we treat each other with respect. Look around. This ship is tiny. We can be cordial, or we can go crazy fighting or trying to avoid each other on the hauls. Let’s aim for the former, okay?”

  He got vigorous nods from Jenny Mae, and an actual ‘aye Captain’, a toast with whatever Emerald was drinking, and a grunt from Copperfield. It would have to be enough for now. Despite Emerald’s belief otherwise, Heath wasn’t totally inexperienced. He wasn’t naive enough to think one speech was going to fix everything. But it would hopefully set them on the path.

  “Great. Let’s eat. I got some pressed sandwiches for tonight. Savor them, because it’s travel rations from here out.”

  They made their way to the mess – positively crowded with a near-full complement of crew – and dug in. Heath was starving from loading the entire bay but forced himself to slow down. He wasn’t kidding when he told everyone to savor it. Fresh bread was one of the sacrifices they would be making until they got enough argo to re-expand the mess to have a proper kitchen. With how low that was on their priority list, it would be a long, long time. Until then, it was a treat when they were in port.

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  If the mood around the table wasn’t quite friendly, it was at least appreciative, with none of the antagonism he feared. Jenny Mae had taken Copperfield’s pointed teasing as well as could be expected.

  Heath didn’t trust it. He’d grown up an only child, but he had friends with big families. Jenny Mae had already mentioned at least two siblings and four cousins in the last two days, and he was sure he’d forgotten some already. People like that didn’t forgive, they got even.

  Thinking about it, and pinging [Leadership] heath decided he didn’t mind so much. Copperfield had hinted at some rough crews, and maybe some well-meaning pranks would be more helpful for bonding than a sanctimonious lecture.

  Unless the cycle went too far. The number of things he had to keep track of as a Captain with a crew was getting overwhelming. At least it was just the four of them and the Loon. Heath had thought his uncle’s crew complement modest, but the number of relationships to keep an eye on with a crew even twice the size of his own, let alone larger, was something Heath didn’t want to contemplate too deeply.

  It was only half an hour of awkward quiet before she started asking questions, her normally upbeat personality bubbling over and spilling into the space between the crew. With each, Heath could feel her ramping back up to the perky rule-follower she’d proven herself already.

  “What kind of rations are most common?”

  “How does the spatial expansion from argo crystal anchors work, like, in detail?”

  “What’s it like in a dungeon? I’ve never been.”

  Heath perked up at the last question, since Emerald seemed like they were going to answer. Uncle Walt had always been tight-lipped about his past. Said he didn’t want Heath to go haring off after a dream of being a delver and get himself killed. From the corner of his eye he watched Copperfield shift in his seat, paying more attention.

  “Eh, rank one dungeons are pretty uninteresting. You let the delvers with the armor go up front and take all the hits, shoot a few things, grab the loot and leave. We’d usually hire a guide team for a share of the loot. Get you in and out safe, but we weren’t real delvers. That how you do it on your last crew, kid?”

  Heath almost went to answer on instinct, before he realized Emerald was addressing Copperfield and not him. It would take some getting used to, having a bigger crew.

  “Nah, old man. We had a full delving crew. Mechs, combat Classers, the full deal. No need to split the loot that way.”

  “Not a man. And get used to it. A few combat Skills does not a delver make.”

  “I can handle it. And so can Betsy.” Copperfield’s chin jutted out, as if daring Emerald to challenge him.

  Heath could tell something was off beyond the posturing, but he couldn’t quite get a read on it. [Leadership] wasn’t giving him any clues this time.

  “It will be a while before we come to that,” Heath said. “We’ll have to decide based on the dungeon if we find ourselves with the time and the right route. This next leg only has rank two delves, according to the star charts, and we aren’t ready for that.”

  The others agreed, Copperfield reluctantly, and went back to eating. Heath was contemplating his last bite, and how long he could make it last, when the Loon interrupted.

  “Visitor outside. Requesting entry.”

  He looked around at his trusty crew, each of which avoided eye contact and made themselves look like they were still eating, despite no more food being on the table.

  “Copperfield, you’re with me.” Heath popped the last bite in and went to see what their guest wanted.

  The access hatch slid open, and Heath wished it would slam back shut. A young woman stood at the base of the ramp. Long black hair in a perfect braid and pale grey eyes pierced straight through Heath, letting him know running wouldn’t be an option. And he wanted to run. The woman was wearing flowing indigo robes, with a staff in hand and a sword belted on her hip.

  Combat Classer.

  The rich kind judging by the quality of her clothes and gear. The staff meant her class was traditional, old-school magic. No one got pure mage classes out on the Rim. A rich inner-system combat classer was not the last person Heath wanted to see, but it was close.

  “Well?” she interrupted his musings.

  “Yes, can we help you?” Heath said. Copperfield had gone mute at his side, the better to stare he guessed.

  The woman huffed like he was purposely inconveniencing her. “You are offering passage onto the frontier, yes?”

  “Oh. Yes, we are. You’re looking to buy the spot?”

  “Yes. My name is Ekaterina Althalas.”

  Heath took another look at the gear, which could probably pay for a fair few ship upgrades. The name didn’t mean anything to him, even if she said it like he should recognize her.

  “Um, you know we’re not a passenger ship, right? It’s going to be pretty minimal which might not be what you’re used to….” He trailed off under the withering gaze.

  “I am perfectly capable of viewing your ship. Is the spot for sale or not?”

  “Sure, payment up front, I have –”

  But his explanation was cut off as she transferred the requested amount, his [Personal Bank] skill pinging with a level increase, and stormed onto the ship. Copperfield practically leapt out of her way.

  “Name’s Heath Stewart. Welcome to the Wandering Loon!” he called after her back.

  Heath rubbed his hand through his hair. It would be fine. A customer that asked no questions and paid when asked was exactly what he needed. He had the Loon mark the passenger berth as taken and locked back up. He would try to get a nap in before it was time to go.

  The sealed hatch when he walked by was enough confirmation Ekaterina had found the berth. Chatter was still coming from the mess, Jenny Mae wearing down Emerald’s patience with any number of questions. Heath bypassed it all and slipped into his own bunk.

  He crossed his arms behind his head, too excited to fall asleep, and pulled up his status.

  Not bad for someone just starting out.

  He shifted in bed, looking at the picture he’d kept of him, his mom, and Uncle Walt. In it Heath was only 10, his uncle visiting on an extended vacation, and the three of them had made a marathon of all the tourist attractions in his home city. It was one of his favorite days. They’d let him eat all the sweets he wanted, and played along every time he sprinted to show them something new to him that they’d seen a thousand times before.

  Walt had been his hero, a larger than life space Captain, with all the best stories. He still was. Heath could only hope he’d be proud of what they were building. They might have been broken but they weren’t giving up.

  He had a real crew. They were rough around the edges, but that was okay. So was he. So was the Loon. They’d get there.