Image via WikipediaMaeven made her way to the loading dock in the brisk cold. Her parka kept out the worst of the wind, but her cheeks had to be red and chapped. She didn’t understand why, but it seemed like all the fuel wells were located in the coldest parts of the planet.
The rickety step to the dock surface made her slow. Snow would blow in again in just a few hours. Maeven wanted her business done and to be tucked in neatly to the Marauder that she called home in dock. She was a dock rat now, living shipboard as she went. She wasn’t working for security and peace of mind anymore. Thanks to Jack, she’d learned that safety was just a pretty illusion. The more you had, or seemed to have, the more someone wanted it.
These days she ran her extractors and carried the goods to market, and that was all. The Siren sat back in the far slot being loaded with oxygen tanks. It was the Siren she had now, but it didn’t compare to the Corsair she’d lost. There was one poky, drafty bunk, and the rest she’d converted to maximize space. She couldn’t afford passenger amenities these days. She’d go out of her mind if she had to talk to anyone anyway.
Her breath blew clouds before her as she approached the loading boss. “Frank, she about ready?”
“ She’s ready, but you won’t beat the storm out of here tonight. Launches are shut down. You’ll have to wait it out. “
She’d expected that. “ Any posts for me?”
“Check your box. You got a couple bills of sale waiting. Ladislov wanted me to tell you to look this time”, he said.
Maeven almost rolled her eyes at the thought. Laddy liked to get all creepy and possessive whenever they were planetside at the same time. He controlled the docks, and the gambling and the everything else on Passonova. Mae wasn’t in the position she once had been. She couldn’t just tell him where to get off these days, not with Gal-fed intelligence watching her and not when he had all the power. So she let him be creepy, as long as it was done from a distance.
“I’ll look”, she said. Frank handed her the new manifests and a pad to sign. “See you in a couple cycles, Frank.”
“Fly straight, Mae. “ The burly dock boss turned to the next customer as Mae took the longest but safest path around the loading equipment which was massive. Her little Marauder took them no time at all to load up. She’d have to move the Siren Song up to the departure docks. She sighed. That meant another docking fee. There were more fees than she could afford these days.
As she fired up the ship, she set the newsfeed to run while she was still planetbound. It had been set to dump several different search filters into her box. One of those was Jack Hardcourt just to be sure. The engines whined out of the loading dock, and Maeven took a glance at the screen. Several things had dumped tonight. Her stomach clenched. She sent her docking request over the shipboard.
“Captain Hall, bay 650Northeast is open. We are awaiting payment.”
She hit the necessary coded signal linked to her pitiful account. “Proceed, Captain Hall. Enjoy your evening.” Maeven snorted. Snowed in on a launch dock in Jaster. Let the party begin.
After she docked, Maeven switched the ship lights and power to stubshift settings. Stubshift was the punishment shift on a big ship, or sometimes you just got unlucky. You work while everyone else is sleeping soundly in their bunks. Bluelights ran the length of the bridge, as Maeven focused on the screen. It was enough to read in the low light. She started the transfer of files to read.
Ladislov sent several mails along with the bills of sale. She would have to fire off a gracious reply after launch tomorrow. Do it tonight, and he might send a transport for her with an equally “gracious” invitation to dinner she couldn’t refuse. After those charming , she looked over the newsfeeds.
Jack Hardcourt acquited of multiple murder charges.
Mae sat back hard in her seat. The tricky bastard had beaten the charge just like he’d said he would. She’d seen him fire the rifle. Oh, he’d killed them all right, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer crew. Unfortunatly, it hadn’t mattered who he killed. They’d all been outsiders, and he’d been arrested. She and Grimm had just gotten the beating of their lives. Outlaw justice. There’d been a bounty on Hardcourt.
She’d gotten out of the infirmary first and discovered her ship confiscated by the local law. Her cargo was taken, and her debt swallowed up a huge chunk of her nest egg. Grimm’s treatment took most of the rest.
By the time Maeven had acquired a ship and limped into port at Passanova, she’d been wiped out. Grimm recovered and signed on as a dock mechanic over on SB-101. Things still weren’t right between them. One more thing she could lay at the feet of Hardcourt. God help that pirate if he showed up in her life again!
Mae pushed a button angrily shutting down the console. Nothing would get her out of Jaster again. Her reputation was shot anyway. As a hauler, you couldn’t be associated with notorious criminals and pirates and expect to get a load. Wesbec wouldn’t even look twice at her these days, so she produced and moved her own goods. So she would continue.
The ship bunk recessed into the back wall of the run-down bridge, so she didn’t have far to go to fall into her rack. She’d wait out the storm and head over to the manufacturing facility tomorrow. Maeven wrapped up in a blanket wondering if Grimm had forgiven her any of her sins yet. She’d find out in the morning, she thought. Sighing, she burrowed in and went to sleep.
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