Roberts looked up at the ceiling of his stateroom with the escort, Chalya, curled up against him. The look in Helena’s eyes still burned in his memory. It wasn’t the first pair of hurt, betrayed eyes that he had looked into, not by a long shot, but this time it was different.

This sucked. Everything sucked. He wished that it was Helena next to him but he had taken care of that didn’t he? God, he wanted this whole nightmare to be over. It was still far too many days before he could finally get out of this trap.

Too many days before he could lose himself in violence and greed… Too many days before a lot of poor innocent bastards get snuffed out before they even have the chance to realize they are fucked…

Woah. Where the hell did that come from? He got up and went to the bathroom, splashed some water on his face and looked in the mirror.

These are porkies. They deserve this, he thought as he stared into his worn haggard face. This is war, a war that they started.

Yeah, but Helena didn’t start shit and she is going to be right in the middle of this. How many other “Helenas” are on this ship and how many of them are going to die… badly.

Roberts walked to the mini-bar and poured himself a stiff drink. He sat in a chair and sipped his gin and tonic.

“It’s too late,” he muttered. “The mission has already started.” He downed the drink and poured another. “It’s a good target.”

He took a deep breath. It’s like Gloria said, these inside jobs do get a little weird. Once this bullshit is over everything will be back to normal. It wasn’t like him to get all soft and sentimental over a little collateral damage, especially porkie collateral damage. If you asked him last week he would have told you that there was no such thing as collateral damage as far as porkies are concerned.

“Get your shit together, Roberts.” He said quietly to himself. Helena was just a fling. This was a good target. Porkies dying is a good thing. The mission is everything.

The mission is everything.

He nodded with clenched teeth. That’s right Roberts. You are on a mission. Your team’s lives are at stake. What’s more important, your team or some bitch you just met?

He swirled the gin in his glass watching the dim light reflect off of it and the ice and nodded.

Remember the mission.

He smiled and took a drink. This ain’t nothing but a thing, he thought with a grim smile. Helena was a beautiful dream, nothing more. In another life, another galaxy, maybe things would be different but right here, right now, he had a job to do.

It was a job that he was very, very good at.

He walked over to the wardrobe and retrieved his tablet. He returned to his drink and just as he unlocked his device in order to review ship’s schematics a quiet beep issued from his ship’s communicator. Wondering if it was a message from Gloria he accessed the message only to find out that it was from Helena.

I should just delete it. His finger hovered over the message. Don’t... he told himself as he opened the message despite himself.

Hey Paul. I don’t really know what’s going on but it’s pretty clear you don’t want me around anymore. I don’t know what I said or what I did but it looks like I screwed things up. I do that. All I really know is that you are hurting. I wish that I could somehow help, that I could hug you and just make it all go away but I can’t.

I know I haven’t known you long but I really care for you, Paul. I really do. There. I said it. I kind of fell for you, you know. It’s stupid but I did.

Just know that I’m here for you if you want me to be. It doesn’t look like you do so don’t worry. I’m not going to go chasing you all over the ship like a lovelorn puppy even if I feel that way. Like I said it’s stupid and I know it is but that’s just how I feel.

I’m writing something based on what we’ve talked about and other shit that I was working on. It’s an article that I am going to post whenever I get back to the real world. I would really like for you to read it. I’m not sure why but I feel that it’s really important that you do.

Attachment: Hate

Roberts paused for a moment, his finger hovering over the attachment. He should just delete the message. He knew that.

Still…

“Goddammit...” he muttered to himself as he opened the attachment and started to read.

***

On the Paper Tiger Sheila was walking through the cargo bay checking up on the squads and making sure that everything was going ok. She walked up to Jak’kul’sha who was pouring himself a cup of tea.

“Hey, Jak’kul’sha, right?” she asked.

“Yeah?” Jak’kul’sha said trying to look like he was standing up straight with his hands behind his back like her people did when she was talking business.

“You’re the leader of squad six aren’t you?”

“I ain’t nobody’s boss but I’m in squad six, yeah.”

“Well you might want to talk to your guys then,” Sheila laughed. “I asked who was in charge and they pointed me your way.”

“Ugh. Why do they always do that?” Jak’kul’sha buzzed in annoyance. “Ok, yeah, when the shit goes down I do the yellin’ but that’s about as far as it goes. Ain’t nobody in charge of those animals most days.”

“I feel you, dude,” Sheila laughed. “I know that feeling all too well, trust me.”

She slapped him on his shell.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I’ve heard good things about you rock eaters.”

“Yeah?” Jak’kul’sha said happily.

“Yeah,” Sheila replied. “Top scores across the board and the other Z’uush squads, and at least one non-Z’uush team really look up to you guys. You did a lot of above and beyond shit during the training and I wanted to tell you that it didn’t go unnoticed. You do a good job on this gig and we will definitely be talking afterwards.”

“Y-yeah? Ok!” Jak’kul’sha said beside himself with happiness. “Don’t worry, we’ll cover our zones and whatever else you need.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

Greg walked up and interrupted them.

“Hey Sheila… Can I talk to you for a little bit… in private,” Greg said uncomfortably.

“Sure, step into my office. Sorry, Jak, looks like I gotta take care of some shit.”

“S-sure,” Jak’kul’sha said snapping to a rough approximation of attention. Sheila gave his shell another swat and walked off with Greg.

“Holy shit!” Jak’kul’sha said happily. “Hey guys, guess what?” he clicked excitedly as he ran back to his team.

***

“Ok, Greg, what’s up?” Sheila said after she closed the door to her quarters.

“Look, I didn’t want to say anything but… I don’t like Logan.”

“You never like Logan,” she laughed.

“No, I mean this time in particular. He’s acting strange. Normally he just sits around and gets drunk or stoned and wanders around you trying to cop a feel. This time he, well…”

“Was actually interested in what was going on?”

“Exactly and then some. He was snooping around a lot. A bit unusual don’t you think?”

“I asked him about it and it turns out that he just wants to actually make something of himself, finally.”

“Did you just listen to yourself? Logan? Wanting to make something of himself? Logan?”

“I see your point,” Sheila laughed. “So, when you asked Jessie to put him through the wringer behind my back did she find anything?”

“That little rat!”

“She didn’t tell me shit. I just know you dude. So, find anything interesting?”

“Not a goddamn thing.”

“So, you just don’t like him like usual?”

“It was something in his eyes. I don’t like it. Got a bad feeling.”

“Look, he’s fine. He was all questions, for once, but it was pretty innocent shit. He won’t be a problem. I’m certain of it.”

“Sheila, I love you, and you have one of the finest brains I have ever encountered… but your twat is fucking retarded. I’m telling you we might have a real problem here.”

“While I’m certain you are wrong about this I am even more certain of something else. Ignoring your NCO’s is a great way to get you and your entire team dead.” Sheila grumbled and then pinching the bridge of her nose she said, “Ok, sergeant-major… Let’s say, for the sake of argument, he’s a rat. How do we find out for sure and what do we do about it if he is?”

***

Helena stood in front of a vending machine looking at the various meager offerings. She sighed and selected a cup of instant noodles. At least those would fill her stomach until supper. She found a nice spot near the fountains and sat down with her laptop. She fucked everything up but at least she had something to write about.

“Art is suffering, right?” she chuckled to herself as she grabbed a forkful of noodles. She started to type a bit as she ate.

“Not much of a breakfast,” an old voice said behind her.

“Oh, hey high-five lady. How they hanging?”

“Very very low these days, dear,” the woman laughed. She pointed at a chair next to Helena, “Do you mind?”

“Sure. Suit yourself,” Helena replied. The elderly woman sat down next to her.

“So, where’s your raider boyfriend?”

“Oh, probably hanging out with my replacement,” Helena said glumly. “He went and got himself an upgrade. Oh, speak of the devil...” she said as she gestured towards Roberts and Chalya as they entered the promenade. Wait… raider? she thought to herself. What was the old bat going on about?

“Oh, sweetie, he didn’t get himself an upgrade. He hired one.”

“What?”

“That darling ginger is Chalya Rask, a long time resident of this ship and a professional escort.”

“She’s a whore?!?”

“There is a bit of a distinction between an escort like Chalya and a common street whore but yes. You are essentially correct.”

That’s not like him… I think, Helena thought. Roberts glanced up and they briefly made eye contact. He quickly looked away but not before Helena saw pain in his eyes. She stifled an instinct to go to him.

“One thing I have learned through an entirely too long of a life is that one regrets what they don’t do much more than what they do most of the time,” the woman said looking into Helena’s eyes with a sad smile.

“Watch my shit,” Helena said as she got up and jogged towards Roberts, towards Paul.

Roberts saw her approach at a trot. He silently cursed to himself. Unless he did something stupid and attention getting like running away she was going to reach him in moments.

“Hell hath no fury incoming,” Chalya said moments later as she stepped away. There was no way she was getting anywhere near this garbage fire.

Helena ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him hugging him tightly. Roberts returned the hug holding on to her as if his life depended on it… for a moment. Then he pushed her gently away.

“Look, Helena...”

“Paul, you’re hurting. I don’t know what exactly is going on but I know pain when I see-”

“You don’t know anything, Helena.”

“Bullshit. I know you, Paul and-”

“A few days together, we fuck a couple of times, and you somehow know me?”

“Yes, goddammit. Don’t ask me how but yes I do. I don’t know what exactly is going on or what exactly you are dealing with but I know that you are a good person, Paul. You are.”

She lunged in and hugged him again.

“It’s over, Paul. It’s over and you made it through. You survived. You made it and you are a good pers-”

Roberts shoved her away roughly.

“Stop calling me Paul. My name is Roberts and you don’t know a goddamn thing about me. If you did you would run. There is absolutely nothing good about me. Nothing. Paul died a long time ago.”

“Don’t say that! Paul, you-”

“Goddammit! Don’t call me that!” Roberts yelled. “Get the fuck away from me and stay the fuck away! There is a launch leaving this ship tomorrow. Be on it! If you do care about me as much as you say that you do then you will get on that launch and not look back!”

“P-paul...”

“Go!” Paul shouted and then deflated. “Look, just walk away, Helena… please… please… Just… get on the launch and go home. Leave… please...”

Helena just stood there helplessly for a moment.

“Roberts… Paul… Ok. Be in pain. Suffer if that’s what you want but goddammit, you don’t have to. You don’t have to live this way… be this way… It’s over, Paul… You survived… It can be over if you just want it to be. That’s what is so fucked up. It doesn’t have to be like this… You don’t have to hurt anymore...” She said as tears started to fall down her face. “It’s over-”

“No it’s not! It is not over! It will never be over but do you know what is over?” Roberts asked narrowing his eyes into angry little slits, “We are. You think you know me? You think you know what I’ve been through, what I've done? You think that you can somehow say ‘It’s over.’ and ‘You are a good person.’ like they are some magic words that will make everything better? Are you actually that fucking stupid? Just… Just go.”

With that Roberts turned his back on Helena and started to walk away. Helena just sobbed and ran off.

As soon as she left Roberts just slumped against the railing gripping it with a white-knuckled hand.

Chalya just stood there quietly waiting for her client to regain his composure as she smiled. Rebounds were great for business. She did feel bad for that brunette though. Real heartbreak sucks.

Gloria sat at a small cafe’ across from the whole debacle and scowled as she sipped her coffee. Christ that was a mess and a fucking public spectacle to boot. All that plus Roberts just slipped up big time. This is not good. She glared at Helena as she ran, sobbing her eyes out while everyone watched her.

That little porkie cunt, she thought, Hurt my friend and fuck with my mission...

Looks like there are two ‘special jobs’ on the schedule now...

***

Helena sat at the bar and took another shot.

“You old bitch,” Helena said. “That whole ‘you will regret the things you don’t do’ line is fucking bullshit!”

“At least you tried, dear,” the old woman said as she motioned the bartender over, “Years from now it will make all the difference.”

“Well right now it fucking sucks!”

“Oh, here’s your laptop,” the woman said as she slid it over to Helena. “I took the liberty of reading what was on your screen, powerful stuff.”

“Yeah, for all the good it did...”

“You wrote it for him?”

“Yes… and no… I just hoped it would get through to him. He probably didn’t even read it and after that… fucking train-wreck… it probably wouldn’t have made a goddamn difference anyway.”

“Well, sometimes the die is already cast. The timing is probably not the best. Odds are nothing could change things now.”

“Huh?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the old woman said with a tired smile. “Whether or not he read it people should read this, all of it.” the woman said. “But you are going to make a lot of the wrong people very unhappy with you if this gets posted, though.”

“Fuck ‘em. Assholes like them get away with shit because everyone is either in their pocket or afraid of crossing them. You know what? I’m fucking tired of it. Maybe it’s because my career is in shambles or maybe it’s because my heart just got ripped out and stomped on but I honestly don’t give a fuck anymore. Someone has to say shit like this and I guess that’s going to be me.”

“Brave words but are you really sure?”

Helena looked straight into the woman’s eyes. “More sure than I’ve been about anything in a very long fucking time. We are… damaged. Not just P-paul… all of us. All of fucking humanity is damaged and someone needs to say it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it never will be over but goddammit...” Helena pounded down another shot. “Goddammit...”

The old woman patted her hand lightly in sympathy and summoned the barkeep again.

“Tell me, you were around before… before Yellowstone?”

“Yes. Yes I was.”

“Were we always like this. Were we always this fucked up?”

“Oh no, dear,” the woman said sadly, “No we weren’t.” She laughed. “You wouldn’t even recognize us as ‘human’ back then, not even us porkie scum you like to yell about.” She looked off into the distance and sighed. “War, real war, was a distant memory. The vast majority of us, all twenty-five billion of us, had everything we needed and most if not all of what we wanted. Things weren’t perfect, of course, but it was nothing like today. We knew peace, real peace and real safety, and real freedom from want.” She looked over at Helena and laughed. “Even when some scandal broke about what you now call ‘porkie scum’ it was often something so trivial that it would give you the giggles because everyone took it so seriously.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.” The old woman then frowned. “Maybe that’s why we made such terrible mistakes when… You know what? I think I will join you.” The old woman called for the bartender who poured her a shot. She tossed it back.

“Mistakes?” Helena asked.

“Such terrible mistakes,” the old woman said as she shook her head. “The way Yellowstone was handled… so many mistakes. We weren’t prepared, a lot of us when we got the news. We should have told the public… I… I should have told the public… Instead, I just dug a hole.”

“You’re a shelter baby?”

“Yes, to my eternal shame I am.” She called the bartender over for another round. “I wasn’t prepared. Fear. I let my cowardice lead me to betray the entire human race. Others it was their ambition, or their greed, or their lust, or their… whatever.” She pounded another shot down. “Maybe all those centuries of peace and plenty made all of us soft and those of us at the top, well we were the softest of them all. We went from the leaders of an enlightened peaceful society to cowardly, depraved, porkie scum in moments betraying everyone.”

She looked at Helena.

“Oh, things would probably would have still gone to shit and anarchy and all the horrors that come with it would probably still have happened but maybe it could have been at least a little less terrible. One thing I know for certain is had I tried to do, I don’t know… something I would at least be able to sleep at night. At least I could say that I tried but no. Dug a hole. Wound up a porkie but at least I deserve it. The Terrans have every right to want me dead.”

The old woman drained her shot glass and called for another one.

“Oh, feel free to put me in your article. The name’s Jocelyn Hernandez, nice to meet you.”

“Holy shit! You’re her?!?”

“I think I would know, dear,” Jocelyn laughed.

“You are definitely not porkie scum! I mean, shit. You went up against the fucking Morgans!”

“It would be a lot more impressive if I actually won,” she laughed.

“Yeah, but you are still standing!”

“It takes quite a bit to take me out, it seems,” Jocelyn said, “That is what makes my initial cowardice even more shameful. I could have done something… I did do something, or tried to… but it was already too late.” she knocked back another shot. “I will tell you my secret, dear and please put it in your article. Everything I’ve done, everything… Is out of guilt. I’ve simply tried to atone for the unforgivable, that’s all. I’m just a fucking shelter baby who has spent their entire life post Yellowstone trying to somehow make up for something that I will most certainly burn in hell for. Put that in there, dear. Actually, I have a few more things you can put in there as well.”

“O-ok...” Helena said pulling out her laptop, “But, why now? Why me?”

“Why now? I’m old, tired, and quickly running out of time it seems. Why you? You are here and are writing something… singular. It appeals to my vanity to be memorialized in it.”

“Running out of time? Memorialized?”

“A reporter is asking questions when the Jocelyn Hernandez is offering to spill the real dirt? Take advantage of an old woman and some whiskey and start typing. Boy do I have some shit to tell you...”

***

Roberts was sitting near the fountains watching the water while Chalya sat next to him holding his hand. Sure enough, she got herself an open-ended daily contract out of this… with a hefty bonus! She just sat there silently gently holding his hand. She knew what a client needed and right now, this was it. Easy money.

“Hey, whore. Take five.” a flaxen woman said as she walked up.

“Excuse me bitch?”

“Chalya, why don’t you take a little break.” Roberts said with a little smile. Chalya just got up and, glaring at Gloria, walked off.

“Quite the scene there, killer. You ok?” Gloria asked genuinely concerned.

“Well a shipboard romance hitting a mine is hardly noteworthy.”

“Yeah, but damn, dude...”

“Got something to say?”

“Nah. At least you got rid of the little bitch.”

“Yeah,” Roberts said, “That I did.”

“You actually told her your first name?”

“She asked and it sort of slipped out.”

“Fuuuuck. That pussy must shoot out rainbows or someth-” Gloria suddenly fell silent when Roberts glared at her. “Oooookay then….”

“So, moving on,” Roberts said calmly, “I take it you have a way onto the bridge?”

“Yeah, that’s set. The big problem I have is keeping him from dragging me up there early,” Gloria chuckled. “That little piggie is ready to go to market.”

“Great, then all I have to do is get arrested Saturday night,” Roberts said simply, “Actually, the whole little scene Helena made is perfect. Me getting messy drunk over a lost love makes perfect sense. I just get all drunk and trash a bar while yelling her name and there we go. One stunner later and off to the security office with me to sleep it off. Really stupid of them putting the cells in there don’t you think?”

“Sounds like a plan. You just pretend to sleep it off till morning and then we hit the security control center and the bridge. The ship will be ours… with a little help from our girl Jessie of course.”

“Then we little Trojans open the gates...” Roberts smiled. “And then finally this nightmare will be over.”

“Yeah, you ok? You really don’t look good. I’m really worried about you, killer.”

“I’m capable of completing the mission. That’s all that matters.”

“That bad? That little… cunt...”

“It’s not just that,” Roberts said quietly. “Do you ever get tired of it… the hate?”

“No, I don’t get tired of hating... because I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Hate. Don’t bother with it. Waste of effort.”

“You don’t hate the Federation? The porkies?”

“Nope,” Gloria said matter of factly. “Since we are getting all touchy-feely do you know what I actually did during the Federation War?”

“You flew Morays didn’t you?”

“Yes and no,” Gloria said looking off into the distance for a moment. “Ever hear of Reapers?”

“Aren’t they a class of Morays”

“Calling them a class of Morays is like calling a AK a paintball gun. They are something else entirely. They were lengthened, had enhanced FTL and cloaks, not to mention a whole lot of classified voodoo stealth and a whole lot of other shit. I can’t say how far they can jump but they can jump and they can carry any warhead or missile in our arsenal… any of them.” Gloria smiled her trademark predatory smile. “I had a career as a suicide sled driver measured in years when most don’t last a month. When the Reapers started to roll out I was one of the first in line. They didn’t want them to just go poof or worse, get captured. They wanted the best suicide jockeys they had. Anyway, I was a Reaper. Everyone talks about the total ruin that a carrier or a Sovngarde battle group wrecked but those fast strikes and deep penetration raids that we did don’t get a lot of press.” Gloria paused and looked at Roberts. “See when the big boys took out a system and went to town there was warning. Hell, a lot of the time they even broadcast evacuation orders before they went to town. We… We didn’t do that. I would enter a system solo, fully cloaked plus stealth. Fuck, a lot of the time even the missiles were cloaked. We have those you know, cloaked nukes. I took out cities. No warning. A lot of the time they didn’t even know I was there until the nuke went off and those nukes were big. Yeah, we targeted starports, logistics centers, vital infrastructure, or whatever but those things… they were in cities or entire cities themselves. I’ve killed millions of them Roberts. Millions… Men, women, children… didn’t matter. Nukes don’t care. Ever see what a one gigaton cobalt bomb does? It isn’t pretty.”

She paused and looked up at Roberts with empty soulless eyes.

“Jesus Christ...” Roberts whispered.

“I hated the bugs when we fought them. I hated the Federation at first but when you start doing shit like that… It makes you think and during those long deep penetration raids I had plenty of time to do it. I’ll be honest. The first few times I sent one of those scrub-cutters downrange and listened to the screams and chaos as I slipped away it really bothered me but after awhile I realized something.”

“What?” Roberts asked kind of not wanting to know.

“You don’t hate roaches. Well, I don’t anyway. Me, I hate people, not animals, not things… people. Cletus, you know that asshole who runs with Dwight’s gang? I hate him. If I ever meet him alone in a dark alley he isn’t leaving it. Pierce Lagrange… I hated that little shit. He would call us porkies when I was growing up and then beat my ass when I tried to protect my kid brother from his bullying. He got killed by the bugs by the way. It made my day when I found out. But when we had those hyper-roaches get into the ship? I didn’t hate them, even when they got into my underwear and I had to free-bush it for weeks until we could get into a friendly port. Oh I wanted them dead. They pissed me off. But I didn’t hate them. They were just vermin. You kill vermin. You don’t hate them. The Federation? Vermin. They are a stain on the galaxy, an infection that needs to be cured, just like the bugs. Porkies? They are just the genetic trash that we sifted out of our bloodlines and the sooner we can burn that trash the better. It’s not hate, killer. You see some moldy bread you throw it away. You don’t hate it.”

“What’s the difference?” Roberts asked, “What makes them ‘vermin’ or an ‘infection’ and not us or the Empire for that matter?”

“Well, I’ve thought about that too,” Gloria said matter of factly. “The way I see it, the Collective and the Federation, they can’t do any wrong. Just ask them. Well you can’t actually ask the bugs but you get my meaning. The Federation, they are always in the right. They are always right. They are always completely justified in anything that they do. They are never evil. They don’t even have the concept of it. It’s a dangerous mental illness on a galactic level,” she laughed. “Look at the meltdown they are having over that info we dropped on them. They can’t handle it. Now we and the Empire, we can do wrong. We can do evil. The concept is very real for us. That makes us different. It makes us think, make a real decision when we decide to do something fucked up. When we accepted that bullshit truce with the Feds you didn’t hear any of that right or wrong bullshit from the brass. They justified it with risk and profit and costs and gains and things like that. You didn’t hear any of that moralizing bullshit. That is what makes us different, makes us sane. Those officers that handed me my targets when I was a Reaper, some of them couldn’t even look me in the eyes. They knew what we were doing was pure evil. There was no justification, no moralizing, no bullshit. They just handed me my orders while trying not to throw up. And when I got those orders I knew goddamn well what I was heading out to do and I knew exactly what I was doing when I pulled the trigger.” she looked at Roberts and smiled. “The Feds? They would try to make it pretty, gloss it over, make up some bullshit excuse to blind themselves to what they were doing. It makes them capable of anything even shit worse than anything we would do. They are a disease, one we need to wipe out utterly, every single last one of them.”

“Gloria,” Roberts said shaking his head. “just when I think I have finally reached an understanding of exactly how bugshit insane you are you go and reveal a whole new layer of fucked up.”

“Aw… thanks sweetie!”

“Seriously, you are unquestionably the most fucked up person I know. I mean it.”

“Yeah, but I cheered you up didn’t I?”

“You know what?” Roberts said in surprise, “You did, you sick fuck. How the Hell?”

“Sometimes it helps to know that there is someone just a little more fucked up than you are.” Gloria laughed and punched him in the arm. “Look, you just got a little too close and wound up catching a raging case of the porkies. I told you that they were a disease didn’t I? Just hang in there killer. We will be delivering the cure in just a couple of days.” And I will personally “cure” the source of your little infection. Nobody hurts my family, she thought to herself while smiling at Roberts reassuringly.

“Don’t worry anymore. I’m on the mission and nothing will distract me this time,” Roberts said with a grim smile.

“Good to hear. Now roll around in some hooker snatch and get the smell of that porkie off of you. It’s kinda gross.”

“Classy as always, Gloria,” Roberts said with a chuckle. “Oh, and thanks for coming by. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, killer. I always look out for family.”

***

“Hey, Helena. I got something for you. Actually it’s something of yours,” Jocelyn said as she handed Helena a small box.

Helena opened it and exclaimed in joy.

“My camera! How the fuck did you get this?”

“I’m porkie slime. We have our ways,” Jocelyn laughed. “It’s a nice one and it would be a shame to wind up in the hands of somebody’s kid making galnet videos.”

“Thanks! But why?”

“Well it belongs to you and to be honest you are going to need it regardless of where you go next,” Jocelyn smiled. “Speaking of, what are your plans?”

“Well, I think I’m more than done with this fucking ship. Paul said that there is a launch leaving tomorrow. I’m thinking I’m going to be on it.”

“Well, you are a reporter right?”

“Yeah?”

“A good one?”

“I like to think so.”

“A brave one?”

“You read what I’m going to print. What do you think?”

“Well, why don’t you hang out for a few days then as my guest? You have your camera now and I assume it has a recorder as well? I’ll feed and water you and give you some interviews.”

“Wow… Yeah, ok,” Helena said eyes wide with astonishment. “But I don’t need to be brave to do some interviews do I?”

“I’m willing to bet that one hell of a story is going to play out on this ship sometime in the next few days, something that you will really want to witness, something big.”

“What are you going on about, old woman?”

“And spoil the surprise?” Jocelyn laughed. “Something is going to happen that really needs to happen and you want to be here to catch it, at least I think that’s what’s going to take place.” Jocelyn shrugged. “If I’m wrong, then you have a nice few days getting some exclusives that most people would kill themselves trying to get. I’m ready to tell tales and name names.”

Helena just shook her head in astonishment. This goddamn ship wasn’t letting her go just yet. She didn’t know what was going on with Paul and she had no idea what Jocelyn was hinting at but she did know one thing.

She was a reporter. She was a reporter and there was a story here. She just knew it. First Councilor Morgan, then Paul, and now Jocelyn? She wasn’t even sure what she was chasing anymore but the old woman was right. Something was about to go down and she was not going to miss it. She set her jaw and slammed back another shot. She was going to see this one through to the bitter end… and then she was going to drag the whole stinking mess out into the light, goddammit, no matter what.