“It’s time to make a decision.”

  “Heath, while you know I cherish your input, I really think –”

  “I’m sorry Loon, but we knew this was coming. Jenny Mae, what do our supplies look like?”

  “Umm, not great.” Their most organized crewmember had taken control of the purchasing of their necessities early in her career, and Heath had seen no reason to object to a system that worked. “We haven’t stopped since that little station out in Pike’s Teeth –

  “Was that the outlaw asteroid field we stopped in?” Copperfield flicked the toothpick he was chewing to the other side of his mouth.

  “Outlaw asteroids? Is that why the job hall was so dark? Wait, did I get healing from a real outlaw?”

  Heath cleared his throat.

  “Tell me later. But yes, it’s been too long and we weren’t prepped for a haul with no stops. So we are running low on,” she turned to look at her station screen for confirmation, “everything. We need everything.”

  “We need to stop. We need to resupply, and not to put too fine a point on things, we need money.” Heath’s emphasis wouldn’t be enough. If it was, they would have settled things after the first time they had the discussion.

  The Loon took an audible breath – only for effect, she didn’t have lungs – and let it out again before she answered. “The sacrifices you all have made on my behalf are myriad, of this I am aware. I think only of the safety of the crew when I suggest we push further before stopping.”

  “But we have a plan!” Jenny Mae chirped. Neither kidnapping, nor piracy, nor the prospect of an outlaw-doctor could dim the woman’s enthusiasm.

  “The plan is not without significant risk.”

  “Birdie doesn’t want to repaint. Or use the new code.” Emerald’s blunt declaration slammed into the argument, pushing it off track and into entirely new territory.

  “Loon,” Heath said. The censure in his voice was heavy. He wouldn’t have believed Emerald’s announcement except his newly evolved [Ship Merge] rang with the truth of their words.

  “I am the Wandering Loon!” The crew flinched at the raised volume, coming at them from all angles. “It is who I am, who I have always been. To change such a thing is anathema.”

  Heath slumped forward, head between his knees. “It will be temporary, just until we get to the Althalas estate and make sure the piracy charges go away. I hope,” he muttered the last much lower, though at their levels and stats, there was no such thing as privacy on a bridge.

  “My parents will help, I’m sure of it.” Ekaterina’s chin tipped up like she was daring anyone to contradict her. “Loon, you have wallowed enough. It is like a haircut. Get over it.”

  “Hey now,” Heath started.

  A sigh echoed from the speakers, longer than any biological creature would ever be able to make. But Heath sensed the final acquiescence just before it came. “No, Crewmember Ekaterina is correct. I am shamed at my own cowardice.”

  Heath sighed himself. He was understanding why a lifetime as a Captain might have made Emerald so good at it, and briefly contemplated a moratorium on the sound for the next week or so. “No one is calling you a coward, but we do need to do this.”

  Decision finally accepted, he looked to the rest of the crew. “Jenny Mae, anywhere in-atmo we can stop without declaring? I really don’t want to try this in hard vacuum if I can help it.”

  With a flick of her wrist, Jenny Mae sent the rest of their route onto the main screen so they could all watch. “If we go a bit out of our way, we could stop here. There’s a moon that no one has bothered with yet.”

  “Why not?” Ekaterina asked, ever suspicious.

  Jenny Mae tapped and brought up the official Imperial survey. “Too cold for anyone unClassed. And the local fauna are pretty dangerous.”

  “Great. Just great. Lay in a course.”

  “Aye Captain.”

  *********

  “Fucking frozen hell! Any progress up there Heath?”

  He barely dared to look up from his work. Copperfield was dancing around the frost hydra in Betsy. The mech armor was still in need of repair, but it was better than nothing. With a slash of her staff, Ekaterina sent a tidal wave of snow and ice towards the beast, pushing it a few feet back and otherwise having no effect he could see.

  “I’m trying!” He shouted to be heard over the howling wind, their comms could only do so much. “[Hull Integrity] doesn’t like the paint!”

  “Less talking, more painting!” Jenny Mae’s holler accompanied a trio of shots from the ridge on which she’d ensconced herself. Each hit one of the heads at center mass. [Sharpshooter] indeed.

  Heath got back to work. Most of the hull was already covered. The shades of red and orange splashed on as close as he could get to flames. Heath was not an artist. A fact that the Loon had been lamenting nonstop. He would have just slapped a single color on and called it a day if that wouldn’t look even more suspicious. Ships without designs always stood out. The Wraith and its unrelenting black an unfortunately relevant example.

  They had been lucky that their one previous stop had any paint they could get for cheap, which left them with his best rendition of fire.

  The next roar was way too close. Heath found another gear, pushing all his willpower at [Hull Integrity] to accept the temporary coat. No point in all this work if the first time he used the Skill it stripped the paint clean off.

  Black feathers disappeared with each roll of paint, the brilliant white that was so hard to keep clean giving way to the new design.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Any day now, kid.” Emerald phased into view right behind him, nearly making Heath drop the roller, before shimmering back into invisibility to rejoin the fight. Nearby, a small pile of snow-white snake carcasses was building up as the newly-minted Arcane Skirmisher kept the smaller monsters away.

  At least the frigid air was bone dry. The paint was set only a few minutes after it went on.

  One final screech assaulted his eardrums and then the battlefield fell silent. Heath edged around the other side of the ship and saw Copperfield standing triumphant on the hydra’s back, while Ekaterina leaned on her staff, panting from exertion.

  “Hey, nice job.”

  “Keep painting!” she shouted back.

  In the distance, a roar shook the ground. The hydra might have had friends. Or a mate.

  Heath painted faster.

  With the last few strokes, he finished his rush job in time to see that not one, but three additional frost hydras were charging across the glacier-carved plains.

  “We’re good, everyone back on board.”

  The rest of the crew wasted no time hustling into the cargo bay, Copperfield holding a few fangs and dripping a trail of purple blood over the floor.

  “Loon, start it up!” The engines kicked on as the rest of them raced to the bridge and Heath slammed into one of the fastest takeoff sequences of his career.

  “I think that went well.” Heath’s teeth clattered together as he shivered, his body realizing just how cold he’d gotten. “Welcome aboard the very uninteresting cargo outfit, Phoenix Freight. We just have one more thing to do before we leave the Rim. Next stop, Barradas.”

  “Why there?” Jenny Mae asked. “Weyland has better prices on average. Nebtin has a shorter gate-to-gate time.”

  “Something I have to do, that I should have done a long time ago. You all will get to meet my mom.”

  ********

  “All crew prepare for jump in five, four, three, two, one.” The Loon’s smooth voice faded as the universe twisted and spat them out, light years away.

  “Systems check. Engineering?”

  “Looking good, Cap.”

  “Navigation?”

  “Systems green. Path laid in.”

  “Sensors?”

  “Functional, no surprises.”

  “Weapons?”

  “Powered down but otherwise no change.”

  “Perfect. Shielding, manual controls, and life support all operating within acceptable levels. Now, I’m upping our cleaning rotation for the next day, so I need everyone to budget that into their training and mana usage. Jenny Mae, Copperfield, the three of us will take the more out-of-the-way spots. Ekaterina, Emerald, you’ll be on the main floors and walls, unless you want to admit…”

  “No.” Ekaterina slashed her hand in front of her, like she was batting Heath’s idea out of the air. “There must be a way to earn a general Skill for cleaning. If [Ship Maintenance] is truly locked behind Classes or System offers, we will pick up another version. There will be no Skill points spent on them.” She said the last glaring at Emerald, making it clear to the older spacer there would be consequences for dissent.

  “You know, the supplies and processes are all specialized,” Jenny Mae offered. “That might be why you haven’t figured it out yet.”

  “I shall. My family has dozens of methods refined for gaining general Skills. I have studied them all. I refuse to be defeated by common chores.”

  “Remember when she just didn’t talk?” Copperfield stretched his neck back and forth, unclipping the harness Heath still insisted upon during jumps.

  “As long as it gets done,” Heath said. “After that, I need everyone to take some time and iron whatever outfit you’re going to wear. If you can’t get the wrinkles out there’s a spot near where the life support interfaces with the engine that does a controlled steam release. You can shimmy in there if you’re careful not to touch any of the pipes.

  “Then I’m going to need some help rearranging everything we’ve got kicking around in cargo. And the rest of the stuff we never sold, that will need organizing and restoring.”

  “Hey, Heath? Buddy? Captain?” Copperfield twisted around fully now, facing Heath as the rest of the crew refused eye contact.

  “What’s up?”

  “That’s what I was going to ask. We’ve been flying together for over a year and you just asked me to iron my clothes. And I don’t know how to say this, but I’m absolutely not doing that.”

  Heath shoved a hand through his hair and slumped backwards in the Captain’s seat. “Yeah okay, no one else has to iron.”

  Jenny Mae, who ironed all of her coveralls as a matter of principle looked the tiniest bit disappointed at the belayed order.

  “Nerves do not become a Captain. Certainly not one who was willing to resort to piracy, or who has weathered as many unusual circumstances as you.”

  “Crewmember Ekaterina is correct,” the Loon chimed in. “Your accomplishments and daring are unparalleled, only matched by the loyalty and ingenuity of your crew. Surely you do not need to fear the coming trial.”

  He surveyed the crew where they had all finally faced him. Expressions ranged from sympathy to exasperation, but it was clear he wasn’t going to get away with forcing his stress onto the others any longer.

  “Thank you, Loon, for the support. I’m nervous, you all are right. I haven’t been home in ages, and I should have done it right after everything happened with Walt, instead of throwing myself into proving I could make it as a hauler.”

  “But then we never would have met.” Jenny Mae’s lip actually trembled.

  “That would have been bad, yeah,” he conceded.

  Everyone was still looking at him. Time to move onto something else, just as important. “Loon, what's our flight time?”

  “One day, two hours, approximately twelve minutes,” came the prompt reply.

  **********

  “Everyone ready?”

  “For the fourth time, yes,” Ekaterina snapped.

  “Right. Okay, Loon, you have the codes from Emerald’s old ship, we’re using those to cover for normal. We can do this.”

  “Yes Heath, I am fully prepared.” The words said one thing, the reluctance in Heath’s Skill said another. But not enough to abandon the plan.

  “Show time,” he said. “Hail the port authority.”

  There was a moment of static and then the return signal came through loud and clear. “This is Barradas Space Port reaching out to the Phoenix. Looks like you’ve requested in-atmo nav permissions. We don’t usually hand that out to non-locals without an explanation.”

  “Roger that BSP. We’re coming off a light haul. Looking to pick up some cargo going to the Core, want to avoid the on-planet shipping costs if we can.”

  “If you say so, Phoenix. You’ve got a one week temp pass. But I don’t think you’ll find much out there. Guess there’s always mail.”

  “There’s always mail,” Heath agreed. “Thanks BSP, Loo-Phoenix out.”

  “Welcome to Barradas.”

  The signal cut off, Heath letting out a breath as their scheme worked.

  “Told you so,” Copperfield drawled. “How else would anyone not a goody-goody restock if the code switch didn’t work?”

  “Theory is one thing, practice another,” Heath shot back. “But yeah, you were right. A little concerning that it’s that easy.”

  “Eh, wouldn’t have been if the ancient one over there wasn’t good at adjusting the signal on the fly. Want to tell us the story behind that, old-timer?

  Emerald snorted. “Not today kid. You’ve been corrupted enough as it is.”

  “Loon, you doing alright?” Heath asked.

  That was apparently all the permission the ship needed. “That was humiliating! Debasing myself by pretending to be another hauler. And a poor-quality one at that. You heard the flight coordinator, she was practically laughing at us. To think we have been reduced to this, this…this cheap sleight of hand. It is obscene.”

  “Hey now, those codes were from my old ship. Before they had to scrap her.”

  “Apologies, Crewmember Emerald. Your sacrifice and assistance in this regard is both noted and appreciated.”

  Their older crewmember waved off the sentiment, looking at their station screen to avoid having to make eye contact. “Yeah, yeah. Glad the old girl’s still got something to remember is all.”

  “The codes have indeed proved to be worthy in their usage.”

  Listening to the Loon backtrack, it was everything Heath could do not to laugh. He made the mistake of looking over at Copperfield to find him in a similar predicament, hand clapped over his mouth to hold it in.

  “The elegance of the sequences is at a level I have rarely seen.”

  That was it, that was his limit. He burst out laughing, triggering the rest of the crew into the same.

  Minutes later, when he could breathe again and his abdomen ached from the impromptu workout, Heath made sure they were on their approved route to Loshen City. Less than an hour now.

  His nerves returned in full force, prickling in the back of his mind and reminding him that he was a bad son. Knowing it would be even worse if he denied her the opportunity to meet him at the port, he sent his mom the message he had prepared the night before. Short notice could go on the list of what she would be angry about.

  The time melted away while Emerald and Jenny Mae got into a spirited argument about the merits of unClassed acting, and before he could do anything else to prepare, they were landing on a field outside Loshen City, declaring nothing for customs and walking towards the skyport entrance. Heath smoothed his coveralls and spotted a crease he had somehow missed in his first three passes.

  He blinked and they were walking out through the high fence surrounding the landing pads and into the city proper. There was no more time, not when he saw a five-foot keg of dynamite charging towards him, arms pumping, green eyes gleaming.

  “Heath Stewart! You are going to wish that astral storm had killed you with your uncle when I get through with you.”

  Her arms wrapped around him in a hug he could only survive with his increased Toughness stat. Her scent filled his nose, leather, chalk, and vanilla candles, taking him right back to a childhood of running wild in her workshop.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “Hi mom,” she scoffed. “Don’t you ‘hi mom’ me young man, you should have been home ages ago!” The effect was somewhat softened by the fact the words were spoken into his chest, his mom having not let up the hug in the slightest.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You will be,” she promised. “Now why don’t you introduce your friends and we can all go get some lunch.”