"I can't believe that you're happy with this,"
Gunnery Chief Philip Eslingen leant back in his chair, frowning.
Sitting across from him, Engineer Yvonne Carteret mirrored
his expression. "I'm not," she said. "But she's always been good
to us, for an egger. Remember back when she started - she was always checking
in on us, making sure our quarters were up to standard, that we were happy. Not
many capsuleers do that."
"She doesn't any more. Hasn't for a while now."
Eslingen's voice was flat.
"I know. It's been stressful. But the pay is still
good." Carteret sounded like she wasn’t able to convince even herself.
"You can't actually want to be out here, this far from
home, working for these people? The way they look at us, speak to us. And what
the Cartel does. Drugs, slaves. It's everything we think is wrong."
"So you think we should abandon her? Betray her,
even?"
Eslingen sighed. "I think that I can't stay out here
for very long. And she's clearly... well, something's happened. She's not the
same Laria that we used to fly for."
"Maybe we can persuade her to go back. To leave the
Cartel and go back? One way or another, maybe we can make her do it."
Laria stared disbelievingly at the screen for a long moment
after the man she knew only as "The Commander" terminated the
recording, and sat down across the table from her. She tore her eyes from the
fading image of her crew and looked around, her vision blurring. The Station
Manager, looking uncomfortable in his own office, shifted in his seat. "We
thought you would want to see it," he said, a finger tugging at his
uniform collar.
Laria took a breath. "I..." she said, trailing
off, lacking any reason for speaking other than it being her turn in the
conversation.
"They're close to open mutiny." The Commander's
voice was granite.
"They don't mean it," Laria said. "They can't
mean it." More of a wail than she wanted.
"We cannot allow them to move beyond talk. You must see
that." The Commander said. Laria nodded mutely. "We have plenty of
qualified crew to replace them."
"But they're my crew. Eslingen has been with me since I
first got my licence. Carteret from my first cruiser. I trust them." She
stopped. "I trusted them." Her voice sounded hollow, even to her.
"It's your decision."
Laria looked around the room, searching for some way out.
The metal of the bare room seemed unyielding, unhelpful. Cold. No space to
maneuver. Nowhere to run. She sighed, and nodded. "They go back. To the
Federation. With my strongest commendation on their records, and a generous
payoff."
"As you wish," the Commander said. He let a few
heartbeats pass. "You're making the correct decision. The loyal
decision."
Laria shook her head, and stood, wobbling slightly, nausea
sweeping through her. "You'll see to it?"
"We will," the Commander confirmed. "And may
I say how well you're settling in, Pilot Raven. It is an honour for us to count
you as an ally."
She tried to smile, but couldn't find a way to make the
muscles of her face move, so settled for a curt nod and headed for the door,
trotting back to her quarters as fast as she could.
After the door slid closed behind her, the Station Manager
looked at the Commander curiously. "Should I arrange their transport to
the Federation?"
"No," The Commander said. "To the processing
facility in Jorund. They have valuable skills that we cannot afford to let go.
After a few months in the accelerated program, they should be ready for
reassignment." There was not a trace of emotion on his face or in his
voice. "Except for that Gunnery Officer. Kill him in front of them." He
paused. "But remember to take the payment from her account."
Some hours later, Laria had stopped crying, and washed her
face. She called up the holo images and records of her replacement crew. An
array of stern, humourless, faces looked back at her. Hard-bitten and
experienced, they were the classic image of a pirate crew. Laria took a deep
breath, mentally pushing the past further away from her. She was an Angel now,
and it was fitting that she have an Angel crew.