Ina leaned over a chair and watched the space station approach in Pathik's video console. Rolf linked the overhead monitor with the forward sensors, and the space station seemed to hang from the center of the flight deck. The approach and docking were typical. An articulating duct extended from the station and connected to the shuttle's airlock, then pulled the tiny ship inside a bay. The airlock indicated that the atmospheric pressure in the shuttle and the bay matched. Colin wanted to clear a direct route to the station's surgical facilities. He declared a medical emergency and met with an escort from security as they arrived on the station, bypassing the standard access screening process.

Pathik remained on the shuttle, to safe-lock the engines and complete the shutdown of the various systems. He found Ina sitting in the common area after he finished his work. "Ina, you don't have a communicator, do you?"

Ina shook her head in response.

"I didn't think you did," Pathik said. "Do you have any credits you can access without touching the network?"

She looked to her side, concerned, and stalling for a moment to think. Pathik nodded, understanding. "Ok. I can borrow you one hundred credits. You can pay taxes to get on the station and buy a communicator. Boss talked about working some short job while we are here. If we can, we do that and you can pay me later. You want to do that?"

Ina nodded. She understood short work: minor tasks for travelers or transitionary folk who lacked the resources or desire to make a home. In a society overcoming long distances between ships and stations, the concept was essential to keep transients from falling into poverty. Rolf had explained that the crew would take work and split the proceeds. The team's skills were diverse, but each possessed essential talents, and any unfair process would be disruptive to maintaining the balance required for effective operations in space.

Pathik checked the security systems. "One other thing. I did not code airlock access for you. Someone will have to be on the ship to allow you in."

He left through the airlock towards station intake. Ina wandered around the ship for a bit, returned to the common room and programmed the airlock to allow her access. She spent a half-kilosecond contemplating her actions. The prospect of spending some time on the station was interesting; she was unsure what risks might be involved. Her situation didn't seem rational. She agreed with Colin, if the Ura wanted them, the group wouldn't have survived the journey to the station, and if the Quorum wanted them, with the sophisticated tracking tech, she wouldn't be relaxing in a comfortable chair in the common room. She became convinced the Ura didn't know about the events on N-X-171; the Quorum must, and hoped the survivors wouldn't talk.

She considered two options: to delay, remove the tracking tech, and see what happens to the other crew members, or disembark from the ship. She didn't want to let Rolf and the others know that she needed to dispose of additional tracking equipment, more than what had been installed in the shuttle.

***

Ina was working in the under-bay control area when Colin called out her name. She pulled herself along the smooth metal floor, laying on her back, shipboard cables and electronics whizzing centimeters above her face. The entire compartment was hidden underneath the cabin floor; an identical, parallel space was located above the cabin ceiling. The whole area was shielded. This protected shipboard systems from interference from cosmic radiation, but the level of shielding on this compartment was sufficient to protect from advanced electronic weaponry. The shuttle must have been retrofitted with some defensive measures at the same time the stealth plating on the exterior was installed.

Colin navigated to the trap-door in the common area, revealed beneath several layers of floor carpeting and padding. Someone had removed the floor material and stacked it in a single pile. "Ina, you down there?"

Ina pulled herself through the small hatch, sitting, squirming, and standing. Dust and soot marred her grey uniform. Colin put his hands in his pockets "We had an interesting encounter on the station. How are things going?"

"No issues. I am exceeding my own expectations on progress."

"We're stuck for a while. We're being careful, not accessing network accounts, so we can't be traced. We've just got the few credits we had on us when we left the station. And Krista is doing fine, since you asked."

Ina wondered what he meant by "a while." She was concerned others from N-X-171 might come looking for her. She disliked the concept of returning to a Quorum lab, or being forced into a recycling tube.

"Ok."

"Others from the station, uh, 171, are here. We told the station staff that we're a transport crew, on a medical escort mission. It turns out there was a pirate attack on a big Quorum transport ship a few cycles back. If anyone asks, might as well play that card."

"Ok."

Colin rubbed his head through his curly blonde hair. "Er, the others are on their way back. I'm gonna go crash..."

Her mind seemed sluggish; her core, augmented with the symbolic processors, hadn't produced a response. She knew Colin would be judging her by the way she failed to interact in a fluid manner. "Ok."

Colin's hands moved to massage the sides of his face. She seemed intelligent and capable, and tended to use few words. But since she didn't seem comfortable, Colin decided against trying to drag any sort of conversation out of her. "Stay safe, then... let me know if you need anything."

He turned and headed towards the quarters. Ina turned to the tunnel, and sat on the stack of flooring material for a moment. Her work would soon be complete, and if she left a portion unfinished, the crew was less likely to abandon her. Despite her efforts to secure passage, she remained undecided as to whether she would leave with them as they headed back to free space. She would go to the station, determine whether she could access useful information, and attempt to pursue another matter. She didn't want the crew to know, and she would need reverse-engineering equipment, medical supplies, tools, and electronics. And humans didn't mess around in their own guts; they asked for help.

Ina returned to the hatch and completed removal of the Quorum tracking systems. She reconnected the wiring and deposited the removed components in her quarters. She couldn't sell the scrap for anything; the safest strategy would be to dump the electronics into a recycling hatch when the shuttle departed.

Rolf, Ross, Liam, and Pathik announced themselves when they returned to the ship. The sounds in the shuttle roused Ina from more dream-like experiments with her mind's capability for simulation. Pathik paged her and asked for an update on the tracking equipment. She informed him she would be complete within the cycle. She had thought the work should take at least 60 kiloseconds; since Rolf wouldn't know any better, she wanted time to pass. The ploy seemed necessary to ensure the perception of her value, and of her passage. Ina knew Colin should be asleep; she should have been, and wondered if the crew believed that contacting her at any time was appropriate, and whether they harbored suspicions.

Ina discovered she could eat and drink with relative safety. She was equipped with sensors which analyzed the constituents of the rations she consumed, with apparent relative accuracy. After consuming the protein-vitamin-and-carbohydrate mash, no adverse side effects materialized. She stared in the mirror, trying to see past her synthetic throat, to find out what was at the end of the dark tunnel. The behavior seemed to be inappropriate.

When the geometry of her body didn't reveal anything, she located a camera tethered to a flexible cable in the ship's maintenance kit; she cleaned the device before swallowing it. The device was a small, spherical probe on the end of an articulating cable and could be controlled and bent from a hand-held controller. The camera was meant for inspecting tight, distant spaces in the densely-packed shuttle electronics and mechanical systems, but suited her. She discovered a small-scale recycling plant. Small interlocking burrs in her torso had processed the mass of the ration bars and forced the macerated material deeper. The components designed for crushing and grinding obscured the view further.

Without a replacement available, or at least an excuse, Ina had no intention of destroying the camera. She powered the thing off and pulled the camera out by the flexible metallic sheath. Ina searched for any sort of references in her core, interpreters, and external data storage related to the recycling plant. Her data store contained a tremendous amount of diagnostic information associated with the software running on her systems. She couldn't wade through most of the documentation, but with sufficient time and this new information, she could focus her investigation.

Without the knowledge of how to perform basic maintenance on her body, she was in a precarious situation. Locating the reverse-engineering equipment on a station was a basic requirement for long-term survival. She suspected few of the electronics and mechanical elements in her body were novel; the prohibition on research relating to artificial consciousness was the reason she was developed on the secretive Quorum space station.

Bronco had returned, and the rest of the crew had settled into their quarters. Ina decided that a visit to Krista would be an acceptable excuse to leave the ship. The crew was asleep, and no one asked.

Ina walked towards the flight deck, turning to pass through the manual docking hatch, and through the automatic airlock. Someone had left the hatches at both ends open. The station's life support system controlled the shuttle's counterpart, and the open hatch simplified air exchange between the shuttle and the station, but Ina wondered who left the hatches open, and whether safety would be a concern. A tube with a square cross-section, two and a half meters on each side, extended beyond the first hatch; Ina knew this to be an old design, made on a massive space-foundry squatting in space only to take in material and extrude metallic stock. The geometry could be utilized for many purposes. The tube was lit from above with conventional point-source lighting. The floor and walls were covered in a compliant, firm material made from recycled fibrous matter, multicolored threads melding into a brown hue. The matting had the appearance of compressed hair. The change from the modern shuttle emphasized Ina's awareness of the transition she made upon entering the station.

Passing through the open air lock on the other end, Ina found herself at a station access check point. She had assumed the station contained a centralized, staffed access point like the abandoned lobby she had passed on N-X-171. The path ended in a small circular chamber made of transparent plastic. Ina touched the walls while turning in place, searching for instruction. She pulled her hands quickly back when the walls moved. The chamber walls ground against the floor as the structure rotated around her, closing the hole she entered through. A plastic post protruding from the floor beyond the chamber wall began to flash, illuminated with by an internal red light. A scanner swept over her face, searching a database for a match. The station computer system detected her synthetic eyes and read a manufacturer identification number from her iris. The number had never been registered in any sort of legal database accessible to the security computers. The station computers pulled air from the chamber and detected typical contaminants associated with technical work on a shuttle, but no sign of biological agents, weapons or explosives. The flashing post became green, the chamber completed the half-revolution, and a transportation tube at the end of the room opened. The post flashed a message requesting a credit chip to pay for entry taxes; Ina swiped the chip Pathik had given her. Ina wondered at the utility of the process, since she could have damaged the post and moved past without hindrance.

Ina stepped into the tube and glanced at the directory inside. She needed to visit the medical center, but this could wait. Ina checked the credit chip Pathik had given her by pressing a black dot on the surface. The small blue cube displayed the balance in monochrome on one particular face.

Credits were a universal currency, managed in accounts stored in computer networks deep inside bank warehouses. Banks issues credit chips which could be used to transfer money between those accounts. The chips were manufactured with tiny particles that were entangled with identical siblings stored in those warehouses. Each chip was produced with and sold for an initial value and could not be restored, preventing fraud. For consumers, the process of paying a business was as simple as presenting the chip; the receipt of money was more difficult, requiring a specialized credit chip and an account with a major banking institution, or the traceable transfer of a physical credit chip issued by such a bank.

Ina pressed a panel that advertised a common commerce and social area. Upon arrival, she saw a crowd outside the clear plastic doors of the tube, swarming like thousands of insects. Ina stared at the mass for fifteen seconds, trying to understand how to navigate the crowd, until an angry woman shouted at her to leave the tube. She stepped out of the tube and made to move towards the perimeter wall. This would suit her purposes: her static-memory contained an encyclopedia that taught her of the various vendors who operated in these kinds of areas; they would sell electronics and small amounts of food for minor amounts of money.

She left the wall and walked into a gap that had opened in the crowd. The gap closed, and someone placed hands on her hips, and shoved her from behind. She staggered, pushing past bodies that moved out of her way, stumbling until she regained her balance. She gripped the small credit chip in her pocket with one hand and let her other hand reach out in front of her, wondering if she'd been attacked, and darted forwards through the crowd. Nervous people parted, making a path she could follow.

She put her spine against a support column near the center of the area and peered around. She didn't recognize any faces. She decided that the environment was hostile but did not require violent intervention. She scanned expressions and found that the others ignored each other, despite the glances in her direction. Perhaps they could sense that she was out-of-place. A man ten meters away turned to her with a strange smile on his face, moved closer, and greeted her with a tone that implied a friendly association.

"Hey, beautiful"

Ina ignored the man. "Hey, where you going? You hungry? I'll buy you something-"

She glared at the man and made a vulgar, hostile gesture. He laughed, placed two hands in the air, and vanished into the crowd. Within a few hundred seconds, the same sort of confrontation happened again, and she became unsettled. Ina zig-zagged until she found a stall surrounded by a half-dozen flimsy bar-stools, all empty. Ina glared at the yellow-suited woman running the shop, and wondered why she was being ignored. "Ma'am?"

The woman turned. Her face was tight.

"Ma'am, I have a question?"

The bartender sighed when she approached, and set down a pair of food tongs she had been cleaning. "I've been harassed since I arrived at on the station. This is civilized space. I have been the only person I have seen this happen to. Can you explain this to me? Have I behaved in an inappropriate manner?

Laughing, the woman replied. "Doing something wrong? Honey, I'm just hoping you don't order anything, because I don't think you can pay for it."

Ina bowed her head deferentially. "I don't understand. I haven't stolen anything. I don't plan to."

"Well, you're wearing gimmies," the woman said.

Ina gave the woman a blank expression.

"Gimmies?" she replied, awkwardly twisting a fragment of a statement into a question.

"Ah... You don't sound like space trash. My name's Marge. Your clothes, that's all Quorum emergency clothing, right? Don't be too ashamed, because some people have gone through times where that's all we've had to wear... but... you're being 'harassed'. Have you looked in a mirror? You're a mess. You look like you've been fighting, if I had to guess, I'd say you haven't bothered with hygiene in a megasecond. You got other clothes you can change into?"

"No."

Marge sniffed. "You don't have your own clothes, which means you're not a citizen, you don't have money, which means you can't get food, which means you're desperate. And this is a safe station, which means the police won't let you get abused or killed, and you're probably the safest one on this deck, you'd better believe every Benefactor has their eyes on you right now. Get it? But we're far out and this place is full of people without much sense. At least you're not in free space, right?"

A man sat next to Ina. "Filtered beer. And for the girl, whatcha drinkin?"

Ina gave the man a blank expression. Marge asked, "I can't turn away a sale, but miss, you getting what I'm saying?"

Marge poured the pale, foamy liquid and handed it to the man next to her. "You having anything, miss? How about an edamame sandwich and a daiquiri?"

Ina closed her eyes. "Fine."

The man to her side tipped his head. "On me."

Marge grinned as she removed a pre-made sandwich, frozen, from storage under the bar and placed it in the food heater. "Yeah, big spender. That'll be ten credits, or you want a tab?"

The man waved his credit chip. Ina shook her head and produced the small chip Pathik had given her. "I can pay for my food."

The man laughed and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I've been down on my luck, too, so let me pay a favor forward, ok? Look-"

Marge sighed sadly as Ina glared at the man. He smiled.

"Please don't touch me."

The man's hand retracted. "Sorry. Hey, where you from?"

Ina glared at the man in silence. Her eyes never left him as he finished his beer in several long swallows and left. Marge removed the sandwich from the heater and presented it, alongside a glass filled with frozen red syrupy-sweetness.

"A creep, and you've managed to get a free meal out of it. Finish that food, and there's a consignment shop here, with a flashing purple sign. If you do have a few credits, buy yourself something, just a shirt, and you'll get a lot less attention. And a haircut. Listen to me, if you've got the credits, you need to get out of that greasy charity clothing. No one's gonna hire someone like you for any job you'd want if you're dressed like that."

Ina ate the sandwich and drank the daiquiri out of a strange sense of obligation. She thanked Marge and the bystander, left the stall, returning to swim through the crowd towards the central shopping areas, pushing people out of her way. She wondered how they felt about her touching them, pressing them aside, but others had done so to her, and less gently.

She located a vendor and purchased an inexpensive personal communicator, configured the security settings, and hung the device on her hip. The device contained a database with six times more information than was stored in her own mind. She purchased an uplink adapter for the device which would let her connect it to a larger terminal. The uplink was intended to allow the device to be updated with the latest versions of the database. Ina's intentions were different.

The device and cable cost Ina thirty credits, for something she would discard when she was done. She had thought of credit as an abstract and irrelevant thing, that with her skills, she would be unconcerned with financial issues, but the harassment and rapid usage of Pathik's loan had transformed money into a primary concern. The device could provide anonymous access to the station data networks, and Ina used it to identify engineering facilities. She found many results, but after two calls, she realized they expected thousands of credits for the use of advanced reverse-engineering scanning technology. Ina wove through the crowds towards the transportation tubes. With the amount of money she could access, she could not utilize the engineering services she required.

The consignment shop was nearby. Ina walked between two posts marking the spot. The shop was constructed of carpets that were tacked to each other, supported from overhead by plastic beams. A young woman sneered at Ina from behind a table in the middle of the shop. The store attendant slipped a computer into a drawer and closed it.

"You need help?"

"I have twenty credits. I shouldn't be wearing this," Ina said with a shrug.

The woman smiled and stood. She was heavy, with short hair dyed an artificial shade of blue, and her mouth was covered in a thick, glistening layer of matching lipstick. "Oh, well... um... everything here with a red tag is five credits. Everything with a blue tag is one credit."

Ina said, "Thank you. I'm unskilled regarding fashion and I don't want to get myself in trouble. And I need to do something with my hair, if it is possible."

The attendant blinked and then said, "I... we... don't cut hair, and I see what you mean, but..."

Ina stepped towards the woman. "No. This is a wig."

The woman walked over to a box near a wall. "It's... used to be a good one, isn't it? You won't find anything like that here. Look, I have a nice new blouse and some slacks that I was going to sell on green tag - ten credits each. I haven't gotten a chance to wash them, but I think they'll fit you, so I'll give you them both for ten. It's name brand stuff, and professional-looking too. They don't smell, and you know, half price?"

The woman unfolded the clothes from within the box and pressed them into Ina's arms. "You can try them on behind that curtain, but they're both elastic, so you can change the fit however you like. It's good stuff, and if my closet hadn't overflowed all over my bed, I'd take them home. What do you think?"

Ina handed her credit chip to the woman. The girl asked, "You don't want to try them on?"

Ina tested the fabric, and toyed with the hidden adjustable elastic straps. "No. Thank you. This will suit me."

The girl retrieved a computer from the drawer in the table and completed the sale. She folded the clothes into a small recycled bag and handed the sack to Ina.

"You're all set. You have a place to stay and get cleaned and all that?"

Ina wondered if the shuttle qualified. "Yes. Thank you."

Inside the tube, Ina pressed a sequence of keys directing the machine to take her to the stop closest to the medical center. Leaving, she followed overhead signs through narrow hallways until she arrived at the center. The hospital was clean and showed signs of age in the thick plastic walls and greasy floor. Entering, she was greeted by a receptionist; she explained that she was looking for a person named Krista who was undergoing treatment to her lower extremities.

The receptionist, a chubby young man with floppy blonde hair made small talk as he retrieved the record from the computer system. "Hmm, one person here like that. She's in the recovery sector. Room 10-C. I'll call ahead." The man frowned at Ina for a half-second, wondering if she should be escorted regardless of policy.

The young man proceeded to give Ina a series of instructions to navigate through the winding complex. Rejecting his offer of assistance in finding the recovery rooms, Ina followed the directions adroitly.

Arriving at the recovery section, Ina met with another series of receptionists, who routed her to a small, clean room with a single space for a young woman in a bed. Curtains wrapped around the bed, affording a tiny bit of privacy. Ina announced herself and watched as Krista pulled the flimsy curtain aside.

The injured girl giggled at Ina. "Hey. The orderly called and said a strange girl with dirty clothes and bad manners was on her way. I figured it was you. How are you?"

The whole event, the attack, seemed distant to Ina. Her body had been operating automatically; she gave orders, and the body responded. She operated under that sort of control most of the time, at a lower level than during the escape, allowing processes to make mechanical decisions while her mind focused on interpreting her experiences.

"They gave me a lot of drugs when I was hurt, so my memory is foggy. I'm sorry. But you really saved my life, didn't you? If it weren't for Colin and you, I'd be dead."

Ina nodded.

"You don't look big enough to carry someone like me out. Sorry, uh, thanks. I just wanted to say that... well, I didn't remember Colin. It was the drugs he gave me, I guess."

"The gravity systems had failed. Carrying you was within my limit."

"Here I'd hoped it was because I'd lost weight. Didn't you get burned? It seems like you were on fire."

"I understand. My attire was heat-resistant. It was destroyed, but I am unharmed. Are you aware of the situation?"

"You mean how I got hurt? Colin said I shouldn't talk about it. I think he's right. And a Quorum police officer came and debriefed me, it was weird, because he did all the talking. Besides, I've gotten in touch with my dad and told him I got hurt in a pirate attack. He's freaked out, and I'm going to go spend some time with my family. I'm going home once I'm ready to travel."

"Ok."

"You remind me of all the nerds at work. You probably were into some crazy stuff, huh?"

Ina shook her head. "My work is boring."

"Oh. I get it. Well, three people were with me when I got hurt on the station. Uh, they just kept on running. That was before the fire. Then the fire starts, and I'm hurt and just kinda waiting, wondering when I'm gonna die... and you showed up. Practically on fire yourself. And I thought you were going to keep on going, too, but you stopped and saved my life. Colin said you were all going to head back out soon. Leave this place, right? Good. I don't like it here. I don't feel safe."

Ina remained silent.

Krista sighed and eyed Ina head-to-toe. "You don't have any other clothes?"

Ina held the small sack in front of her. "I bought what I could before I came to visit you. I will change my clothes when I am able to return to my stateroom on the shuttle. I apologize."

"Oh, good. I was worried. I need to get some sleep. Hey, Colin said those guys needed fuel money. Kind of pathetic, but whatever. Let me give you some credits. Do whatever you want with 'em. You can use the transaction log to find me, if you ever need anything," Krista said. "You've got family, right?"

***

Colin woke and tossed aside the flimsy sheet covering him. He proceeded to clean himself in the hygiene area, sharing a brief conversation with Bronco over a razor. The two moved to the common area, where they talked about nothing over breakfasts of protein paste from a ration pack.

The medic walked to the flight deck and waved to Rolf.

"One sec. Pathik, I need you to run a ship systems diagnostic," Rolf started.

"You think anything is wrong?", Pathik asked.

"Well, not really. Our techie pulled some guts out of our ship and I want to make sure everything's up to spec. And I'd like you to get a baseline to work from if we have problems in transit back to free space."

"Got it."

Rolf turned to Colin and summoned the medic with a finger.

"Hey boss. What's going on?"

"I had an interesting conversation this shift. Colin, you seem to be the only one who can find Miss Ina. I think we have a job for her. There's other Quorum shuttles showed up, and a few got sold to a local scrapper. They're nervous. I might have had something to do with that, mentioning what Ina ripped out over a couple of old fashioned drinks. Showed 'em, too."

Colin raised an eyebrow. "The scrappers want someone who can tear apart the spy gear?"

"You got it. If Ina can pull the electronics out, they can part out the shuttles instead of recycling the entire structure. More money in parts than raw materials."

"If local scrappers couldn't find someone to do that work, we probably wouldn't have either."

"Yeah. Don't tell her that, though. Kid's cocky enough as it is," Rolf said.

Pathik started. "Colin, she's gone from the ship. I scan her quarters and found the junk she left. Real enough that Rolf brought some to dinner with our customer. No real way to tell if she got everything, so we have to hope."

"I wanted to go back to the station this shift. I'll find her. Dammit. She needs a comm." Colin said.

"I borrowed her money," Pathik affirmed.

"Yeah, find her. We need to get her started on this work. No gaurantee she's the only one who can do it, with all the people on this station. And sadly... none of the eh, clients, would know the difference between a real job and a scam. It doesn't matter that we've got the real thing, but I'll play this honest if I can. We're legit now."

"Got it. Later, boss."

***

Ina met with a leather-wrapped man in a maintenance corridor hidden from public view. He shook his head at her, telling her what she wanted was impossible. Equipment like that was protected, and anyway, hackers had released schematics for most any commodity electronics on the data nets, and he didn't understand why she needed deep-scanning gear. She explained with a careful lie; he mentioned that she might convince a local clerk at a high-end electronics shop to help her detect property tags. Ina nodded and shook hands with the man. The two parted ways.

She poked at the display on the communicator and located the electronics shop and navigated through people more than hallways until she arrived. A scrawny man with a full beard huddled inside of the shop.

"Excuse me?"

The man looked up from a paper book. His eyes lingered on her clothing, then moved awkwardly to the wall near her.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Ina produced a credit chip - the one Krista had given her. She wondered if she should feel guilty having kept the credits for herself, but decided that Rolf would be indifferent so long as he did not find out the money had been paid.

She practiced a lie in her head before speaking. "I need help with something. I have a number of prosthetics I need documentation for."

"You got part numbers? Just look 'em up. You don't need to come to a shop for that kind of stuff, and we wouldn't have it, anyway."

"I don't have part numbers. Do you have an inventory scanner that might detect property tags?"

"Uh... property tags? I guess. You want me to run you through? You're not gonna rob me or something, are you? I can't afford my rent as it is. Maybe you should go somewhere else..."

Ina smiled and stepped towards the man. She offered a hand, palm up. "You have the correct equipment. I've had a bad few cycles, I have new prosthetics, and I'm having a problem. I don't have sufficient money to hire a technician and... afford my rent. I want to solve this myself. Please assist me."

He stepped from around the counter, and moved towards the store's entrance. He closed the glass door, and locked it. "Fine... my name's Jakyb. The scanner's in the back. It'll scan everything in the whole store, so give me a few seconds, and I'll run it and print up a copy."

Ina crossed her hands over her hips. "Thank you."

Jakyb was nervous as he disappeared through a flimsy door in the back "wall." Something in the ceiling beeped, and Jakyb returned with a sheet of paper. "Huh. I told it to find new stock, and it gave me thirty seven items. Two arms, two legs, two eyes, and a bunch of stuff I don't know what. Wow. It's all worth, well, if it was for sale, second hand maybe sixty two thousand credits. I can't make that in fifty megaseconds. This what you wanted?"

He walked behind her, and unlocked the door. Ina took the sheet of paper. "Jakyb, I appreciate this."

Jakyb pointed to the door. "Ok... welcome... um... so... you didn't get that from me."

Ina gave a fake smile and left. She spent the next eight kiloseconds downloading and memorizing parts manuals. Her components were hardened against radiation, temperature, and impact. But she couldn't understand the whole design. The parts were random strokes from a painting; without order, organization, or understanding intent, the data was overwhelming. Her extremities and sensors were standard, but her processor and power source were undocumented. Thinking about this while walking the station would lead to trouble, and she decided to return to the shuttle.

Colin saw Ina working her way along the empty perimeter wall inside the middle deck shopping district. He glided through the crowd and waved to her with a smile.

"We've been looking - hey. Sorry. Rolf wants to meet with you. Can you head back to the shuttle? Do you need anything?"

"Now? Yes. I'll return. No."

He watched Ina head towards the ship, and thumbed his communicator, letting Rolf know she was on her way. He hoped the statement was true.

Rolf met her on the flight deck, along with two unfamiliar people. He introduced them to Ina, recycling specialists who were in the market for an engineer who could handle sensitive equipment with discretion. Ina nodded, and without prompting, explained the tracking equipment, and how she could perform the work. Rolf waved his hands once the pair seemed satisfied, gently pushing Ina away so that he could discuss financial issues with the potential customers.

Ina didn't care to be involved in the discussion. She would earn money this way; Rolf had found the clients, and without him, she would not have been asked to complete the work. The job meant they would have more money for supplies and when the task was complete, the shuttle would be much closer to departure from the station. Ina wondered if Rolf should have consulted with her on a schedule, and reminded herself to discuss this with him later.

She retired to her quarters and stripped off the dingy shuttle clothes. She removed a mirror from the wall and placed the flimsy plastic surface on the bed, leaning against the wall, at a particular angle. Ina sat on the bed, her legs hanging from the front, and twisted around until she could see her spine. She reached behind her and picked at a healing seam. Her arms strained to reach the scar, and she had to stretch the skin in her shoulders and neck beyond normal limits to access her maintenance port. The damage would heal. The flap of skin broke loose, revealing the mechanisms beneath.

Curling and rolled away from her spine, the wet underside of her skin shone blue with tightly woven ceramic threads. The armor would protect the sparse, sensitive array of motors, actuators, and electronics underneath the skin. Synthetic bodies - except for the skin, which was biological - couldn't heal. All models were equipped with a modicum of armor, to ensure components would remain undamaged between service intervals. She pushed a mottled flexible plastic panel aside, the primary purpose of which was to provide the skin with an under-structure to lay on to give the flesh a realistic appearance, providing the normal striations of muscle and bone where none existed.

Ina used the small camera to record video images of her internals, and afterwards navigated her fingers to diagnostic ports, through a mass of sticky, glistening dielectric gel. One of the ports was manufactured using the same standard electronic interconnect as the communicator data cable. Some humans had managed to implant their communicators inside their bodies. She supposed they did this in an attempt to hide from their individual sense of isolation. After being disconnected from the powerful computers she had spent most of her life interacting within, the idea seemed rational.

Ina discovered something unexpected: the communicator, directly connected to her data banks, could access more information from her external storage than her own mind. With minor modifications to the data interface cable, Ina could tie the communicator inside the maintenance area. She linked with the communicator's firmware through the data cable and routed commands from her mind, through the communicator, into her own systems. She felt a measure of pride at having hacked herself.

Examining the new data storage, she located documentation for the electronic interface between her mind and her body. She could access information on the limitations of her mechanics, her electronics, and a sophisticated, if experimental, biomass reactor. The device was a miniaturized version of the recycling fusion-reacting power plant found on large ships and stations. Unlike the comfortable manuals she had located for all of her commercial parts, the documents were limited line-drawings laying out dimensions and signals - but she had a place to start.

The discovery of the documentation began to unravel the mystery of her power source, and her eating of food and the messy bathroom event that had happened twice during transit to the Uran station. Other issues were more relevant, but this element, she decided, may be problematic in the future.

Ina ensured the plastic straps she had used to stow the communicator were tight and closed the maintenance port and folded the skin into place. She wiped remains of dielectric gel from her hands and shoulders with a cloth she had taken from the hygiene room. Completed, she dressed in the not-so-fresh clothes she had purchased from the consignment shop, layered on top of undergarments swiped from a sealed packet in a drawer.

Rolf was waiting with Colin and Bronco in the common area, outside the flight deck. "So. Ina. You're in? Fixing those shuttles up?"

"I will perform the work, but I require more information."

"Yeah. Three shuttles, in three different bays." Rolf unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to Bronco. "Locations and access codes. Bronco, you go with her. Make sure nothing unexpected happens. They are in a bit of a rush, now that folks are starting to get an idea of where we came from. They think they've got their hands on some hot merchandise, maybe something you can't buy on the market just yet. They think we'll help them move it without them ending up in prison, or worse."

Bronco nodded at Ina, and she cocked her head sideways, returning the gesture.

"I would like for you to bring tools for me. Can you help?"

In truth, his assistance was unnecessary; she could push a cart, and while her specifications indicated she would lose a physical confrontation with a man of Bronco's stature, she was at least able to manipulate heavy objects in an effective manner. But Rolf's mannerism seemed a form of insistence, and she did not wish to complain.

Rolf continued. "And Ina. Like I said, as soon as possible. How much work can you get done in, maybe, 150 kilosecs? Let's say you split it against all those shuttles? How far would you get?"

Colin frowned. "Ina, you haven't been resting. You should take it easy."

Ina shook her head. "I needed time to learn the system on this ship. I should be able to work more efficiently, now." She thought for a moment longer. "The other shuttles are the same as this one? Identical?"

"Could be, as far as I know. I haven't seen 'em."

"If Bronco can help, and if I can take Pathik or anyone who can run commands from the flight deck, I can complete the work. Should I assume the client will require the registration reset?"

"They didn't hire us for that. But if you can get it done, I bet they would pay for it. Parts are worth more than scrap, but a whole shuttle... if these guys aren't hurting for money, they'll take the offer. Hey, and when you're on those shuttles, if there are any useful supplies that won't be missed, bring them back. Ina, did you get a new communicator on the station?"

She gave her affirmative.

Rolf continued, "Ok. Give me your code and I'll get it to the rest of the crew."

He glanced at Ina's empty pockets. A patronizing tone dripped from Rolf's mouth. "And... bring it with you. Get to work when you feel like it, ok? The clock is ticking, a hundred and fifty kiloseconds, and our payout does depend on what you get done. At the least, touch all three shuttles. Do something, at least."

Ina glared at Rolf through the insult, and gestured for Bronco to follow her. Bronco suggested that they change into different clothes, and Ina donned her Quorum "gimmes" that she wouldn't mind ruining. The two loaded equipment onto a cart, left the shuttle, heading for the first bay.

"So... where you from?"

Ina blinked and remained silent.

"Right... uh... what you do for fun?"

She ignored his question, and he just pushed the cart, feeling rebuked. He considered to himself that she seemed to have that effect on the crew. He forgave her, knowing engineers were known for being eccentric and arrogant.

Colin and Pathik met Ina and Bronco in the first bay. Pathik asked if he could train Colin on the navigation system of the shuttle, if Ina didn't need the systems up during her work. Pathik wanted to dig into the system's inner workings, without changing the configuration of the shuttle they would leave the station with.

Ina began the work with mechanical efficiency. Removing the tracking equipment and then reprogramming the registration for each of the three shuttles would take a fraction of the 150 kiloseconds, but Ina believed she needed to keep her abilities hidden. She wasn't a competent engineer: the simulator had trained her mind in the maintenance of ship systems, including sensitive systems, as part of the origin of her design as a generation ship computer core.

She could hear the trackers chattering, and could hone in on their location, and when the chatter was gone, she knew the trackers were dealt with. Basic signal analysis, and her body was equipped with the undocumented sensors and transceivers necessary. She felt pride, being able to detect and remove a secondary tracker from each ship, which modulated a signal within standard data transmissions. She had disabled the secondary tracker on their shuttle after reaching U-N-215, but otherwise with these trackers intact, the Quorum could easily find the shuttles.

Work on two shuttles was completed in 70 kiloseconds. She put the others to work, since they were present, and found them to be helpful and able to take direction. Ina's pace was exhausting, and the group pleaded to break for a rest. Bronco asked Ina if she'd like to find a meal; Colin was surprised when she consented, without the smallest argument or hint of judgment.

Ina sat opposite Bronco at a noodle restaurant, picking and grazing on the steaming dish in front of her. Orbs and squares of red and yellow protein adorned the white noodles; the entire meal was a synthetic substitute, produced from a complex series of machines as the order was placed. Carbohydrates were extruded, formed and steamed, and amino acids were assembled and folded into a variety of proteins based on the structure of vegetable beans. Bronco vacuumed the food in front of him, in such a delicate, meticulous way that embodied the scarred bulk of the man sitting at the table. Bronco had paid for the meal, and Ina felt obligated to eat the food; she did, and reminded herself to observe whether her new data link could monitor the recycling system above her hips. She could sense the machine humming to life as she swallowed the food, and wondered whether Bronco could hear the whirring, grinding gears. Momentarily she felt insecure, reminded that she'd changed back into the dingy "gimmes" she'd found on the shuttle.

The four convened over communicators and agreed to rest. Ina decided she would prefer privacy, and used her communicator to locate a room that she could rent for a cycle, using a bit of the remaining money from Krista.

She walked through the spiraling corridors and into another crowded area. She tried to push through the packed mass, jostling, and struggled to make distance as the crowd flowed out of a cinema and moved into the hallway she had come from. Retreating, she turned sideways, and waited without motion for the crowd to disperse. After the throng had dissipated, a small group came out from the cinema, and she tried to side-step them as they came close to her.

A tall, fat man with brown eyes took a drag from a short cigarette, and vanished as she passed by him. Something stung her right shoulder, and she stopped, pivoting her head to determine what had happened. The fat man slowly twisted the dimming cherry against the top of her shoulder, grinning as the fabric of her top smoldered. Ina remained motionless, confused for long enough, while he crushed the lit end of the cigarette into the hole burned in her shirt, and then dropped the smothered stub into his pocket, laughing. Ina examined a small hole in her shirt, and the red welt just beneath it. Another man pointed at her.

"Bitch is so stoned she don't even know what's going on."

She considered returning the assault. Ina turned her head, stared at a security guard, certain he had avoided the confrontation with deliberate intent.

"You want some evo? I got this whole fuckin' stash. Take a tumble with us, and I'll hook you up. Tomas has a little infection, you give a fuck about that?"

A third member of the group stepped back, scowling and uncomfortable.

Tomas crossed his arms over his chest. "I got no fucking infection."

Ina took four quick steps backwards, maintaining eye contact with the man, before turning to her side. She watched over her shoulder as the others applauded themselves, and broke into a fast walk along the corridor. She turned her eyes to the guard, the brass nameplate on his uniform, and approached him. He frowned and crossed his arms as she stood motionless a meter in front of him.

"Operator Frighur. Wendel Frighur?"

"What do you want?"

"You observed those individuals attack me. Why did you remain here?"

"Whatever. I didn't see anything. You wanna file a report? You can go to the office on deck 12A. Forward ha-"

Ina shook her head. "Examine your communicator. I have sent you a video."

The guard frowned, suddenly realizing that she shouldn't have known his first name, and pulled the device from his belt. He tapped the screen. "Uh... Ina Kurosawa? What-"

The phone displayed a high-resolution recording from the event. Ina saw officer Frighur looking at her, and then her head turned, staring at the burn on her shoulder. Ina enjoyed the man's face as it paled. "You observed an assault and a solicitation to exchange narcotics for sex."

"What the hell is this? What do you mean narcotics?"

Ina tapped her cheekbone. "I recorded the event. My eyes are prosthetic."

Frigur fidgeted. His brother-in-law had gotten mechanical bits in an injury thirty megaseconds in the past. He knew that they took a long time to get used to, and that he had mistaken her awkwardness for drug use.

"And you're what? Blackmailing me? Come on, frea- What'd I see? He dropped his cigarette. You recording this conversation?"

"I wish for you to do your job... to have done your job. You could have protected me, but you didn't, because of what I'm wearing, and because I look like I survived a pirate attack a half megasecond ago."

"So you gonna be here for the fifteen megaseconds it's going to take me to go to the Iudex with this?"

Ina shook her head. "If my appearance is required. You have the video, and you'll find the embedded signature indicates the data was collected unaltered from a Lintek HDP-5510 optical implant. I will submit this video and all of the events that have happened to me since I came on this station to an alternate and superior authority."

Frighur stared at her for a moment. "Sorry... er..."

The Operator tapped his communicator. "Dispatch... there may have been an assault... I need you to pull recordings at my location from the past kilosecond, look for the woman wearing emergency handouts."

He stared at her, grinding his teeth, for half a kilosecond until the reply came. "Dispatch to Frighur. Do you need medical support?"

"No." The guard let his finger fall from the communicator's talk button. "No, you need cash to pay for a doctor, anyways. Are you still recording?"

The communicator clicked. "Frighur, cigarette burn? We've got an id on the assailant and clear video. He's a resident, so we'll open a case and take it from here. Good work."

"You'll have your justice. Because he dropped a fucking cigarette, you know, someone's gonna take his home, and he's gonna lose his job, because you have a little burn mark on that shirt you didn't have to pay for. Wonder if he has kids. Wonder if he will in a few megaseconds."

Ina pulled the collar of her shirt to the side, and showed the man the circular red welt, weeping orange fluid, stained with black flecks of burnt plant matter. "I was told this station would be safe."

She returned to the shuttle to retrieve her new clothes from the ship's laundry, avoided the crew, and then hired a room on the station where she could rest. She meant to make her decision on whether she should stay with the crew, but her mind drifted to Frighur. She wondered why she had sent the video and forced him into action. Her first priority was - should be - survival, and she had survived the encounter without confrontation. He said the police would take the man's home, and Ina knew she had made an enemy. She thought about the open hatch on the shuttle's airlock, how the door to her quarters didn't lock. The injury was minor, synthetic plasma wept from the wound, staining her burnt shirt. The man would be arrested for what he had done, but Ina wondered if the injury warranted him losing his home and his freedom.

Ina wondered why she had confronted the security officer, but did not regret the decision.

Bronco and the others were confused but unsurprised when she failed to return to the ship, though relieved as she met them at the third bay after their rest. She remembered the stall-vendor who had talked with her, and dropped off a five-credit tip, and another ten credits - for a meal for another person who comes through wearing dingy gray. More of Krista's money allowed her to hire a hair stylist who repaired the damage to her wig for a pittance.

Three kiloseconds had passed since the crew had boarded the last shuttle they were to retrofit when an angry man stormed aboard the craft, yelling vulgar slurs and reeking of ethanol. Bronco shoved the man against a wall in the shuttle's common area. The man's wiry hair bounced around his head as Bronco wrestled him to the ground, and his mouth continued to move even as Bronco immobilized his arms and legs. Another man followed the first, apologizing profusely, his hands in the air. "Yanis, get back here! Please, don't call security!"

Ina remained hidden under the shuttle deck. The second newcomer explained that the two were competitors of sorts, freelance technicians, and that Yanis had lost his wits because he needed the money. And Yanis hinted at accusing the crew of being cons, asserting that his friend had been unable to able to detect any trackers on the shuttle in the first place. Ina finished removing the secondary tracker from the underdeck, and popped up from the hatch, tossing the components at the startled hacker as she emerged.

She pulled herself out of the hatch with alarming rapidity and glared at the second man as Bronco sat on the first. Pathik and Colin were standing at the entrance to the flight deck; realizing he was outnumbered, a dark-skinned man backed out of the shuttle with his hands raised, and took off running. Ina nodded at Yanis.

Bronco smirked. "Consider that a gift. You won't cause any trouble for us, will you?"

Yanis shook his head and groaned underneath Bronco's bulk. Ina nodded at Bronco, and he released the ornery electronics technician. Yanis jumped to his feet, now red-faced and dizzy, and stumbling, bowed to Bronco before bolting out of the shuttle with the tracking equipment.

Ina and Bronco traded stares while Colin and Pathik tried to figure out what had happened. Ina stumbled backwards, tripping over something invisible, and Bronco stepped towards her with his arms outstretched. She recovered, and looked around the shuttle, confused.

"Doll, you're pushing too hard. You're worse than Rolf. Did you sleep, earlier?", Colin questioned.

Ina shook her head; she was fine. Pathik and Bronco insisted on another break. They had plenty of time within the boss's schedule, and Pathik explained Rolf had no expectation they would complete the work on all three shuttles. Pathik continued explaining that Rolf had signed a best-effort contract, for a few hundred kiloseconds of labor, and they had fulfilled the contract with the support of the four.

"The completion of this task is imminent," Ina promised. Diagnostic results flicked through Ina's consciousness; her motor processors had detected a partial power loss. Ina wondered if a major component had failed and hoped she was lacking in some sort of maintenance. She could be ignoring something basic, something every human with a synthetic body understood. She had no sensation of pain or mechanical disruption, and she didn't know how Eric had maintained her. She had been connected to a number of cables and harnesses, and now she was without the support they provided. She was removed from the facility while incomplete, and wondered if any of those functions were essential in her broken state. She didn't know how Marshall had intended to care for her, if he had removed her from N-X-171. He hadn't brought any equipment into the ill-fated tram.

Her systems had stabilized and checked out without issue. The communicator shouldn't be related to the issue. The power drawn by the device was inconsequential compared to her limb actuators.

Ina shook her head, and wanted the medic to leave her alone. "I want to finish. Colin, I am hungry. Can you provide me with some food?"

"I don't have anything with me, but I'll be back in a bit. Take it easy, ok? Sit down 'till I'm back?"

Ina gave Colin her fake smile and closed the hatch in the floor as he left. Bronco moved the flooring material into place and smoothed the seam in the carpet with his boot. Ina pointed at the hatch in the ceiling; she explained they would be done as soon as she removed the last symmetric transmitter from the ship. The software was updated and the registration was scrambled. The hatch opened, Ina pulled herself into the access way and started working. She was precise, but felt disconnected. Something was wrong. She couldn't figure out what. After a kilosecond had elapsed, the lingering feeling faded. Colin returned with the food - protein wrapped in bread. Ina's head and arms appeared in the overhead hatch and accepted the meal; satisfied, the woman disappeared into to the spine of the ship.

Ina carefully considered whether she should eat the food. She suspected her difficulties, if immediately addressable, were related to the system that powered her body. She was unsure as to whether the problems were related to the food she had eaten earlier, the attachment of the communicator, or something else. She had spent megaseconds asleep on the workbench before the attack; maybe Colin's suggestion was the most appropriate course. Humans were susceptible to problems from lack of sleep or food, and when the prosthetics drew blood glucose levels too low... She considered transforming the lie she had told Colin into a true statement.

The reactor should produce power for a while as it recycled the food. And if the electronics had failed, fuel wouldn't matter. Ina wished she had some basic diagnostics or understanding of how the system worked. The shuttle was simple, and with her training, intuitive... she was inside of a giant machine, she could look at the small bits and seemed to be able to sense how the parts worked and fit together. She understood generation ship reactors, how they processed waste into fuel, but those systems didn't fit inside a humanoid body.

After seconds of deliberation, Ina ate the sandwich. She didn't feel any different, and the food didn't interrupt her completion of the work in any substantial way. She completed the final few connections and shouted instructions to Pathik to energize the ship's communications systems and begin the basic tests. The shuttle electronics powered up successfully and Pathik returned a yell the checkout was good.

She thought for a while about how she would behave if she were dying.

Ina slid out of the cavity with care and dropped through the access hatch. Bronco caught her and set her down on the floor. She didn't need his help: she should have been able to absorb the drop unhindered. He had seen her do this twice and should have known better. But she supposed the behavior was related to human ego, decided Bronco wasn't hostile, and did not rebuke him.

The limited monitoring data she could access through the communicator indicated full mechanical capability. Colin demanded Ina relax while the others cleaned and prepared to leave. Ina was pleased they would only have to brave one docking tube and two lifts to return to their own shuttle; this shuttle was located in a central bay, and Ina longed to be alone. She enjoyed the company of the others, but needed space. She was weak in ways that would be inappropriate for the others to understand. She couldn't be herself, she couldn't retreat inside of herself with the others around: they would judge her, as she judged herself.

Colin looked at his watch. "Time to spare. Lots of time to spare. Ina, I'm ordering you to rest."

"The task became easier with each iteration."

"That's how it is," Bronco said. "Er, you ok?"

"I think I was hungry."

"You have a poor way of taking care of yourself," Colin said.

Ina glared at Colin. Bronco put his hand on the girl's shoulder. "We'll help with that, right?"

Colin rolled his eyes. Pathik shook his head in contentment at finishing the work and earning a wage, and followed the trio with the equipment cart. Neither he nor Rolf expected the girl to fit in. They were confused when Colin and Bronco began to adopt a protective posture. Pathik thought she was condescending and stayed with them because she had no other choice; she was running from something. But why would a Quorum engineer run when Krista was swept under the protective government umbrella?

Pathik shook his head one last time, as the conversation degraded into small talk on the return trip to the shuttle. Rolf expressed his pleasure with the work, and indicated the team would be compensated. As Pathik had stated, Rolf and the client had expected partial completion of the project. After Rolf had paid for supplies and fuel, four hundred credits remained for each of the crew members. Ina returned Pathik's credit chip, and offered to return the rest; Pathik took the chip and declined the remainder, since, in his mind, Ina needed the money more than he.

Rolf proposed they would be leaving the station in one hundred kiloseconds. The schedule would give everyone time to rest, complete shopping, and finish any business. The crew agreed to this time frame.

***

Ina and Krista walked through the bazaar. The area was hot and smelled musky and spicy, with the fresh ripeness of human bodies. The ventilation system couldn't cycle the air quickly enough during the rush. Merchants hawked fried food from various stalls, and the odor was stale, despite the contrary promises from various signs.

Krista's crude prosthetic legs tapped and clattered along the floor, plastic rods and elastic straps visible as she walked. They were temporary, she promised, and would be replaced at a proper prosthetic shop when she went home. "Ina, I'm glad you called me back. I figured I'd never see you again."

Ina looked at Krista's feet. "I don't know what to say."

Krista asked, "Ugly, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah... I'm remembering a bit more... Don't worry about it. We're almost there, and you can get rid of those second-hand clothes. What the hell was that you were wearing? It looked like you were clothed in a laminated food pouch."

Ina agreed as the two reached a budget clothing store. The shop was little more than a collection of stalls, with occasional curtains for privacy. The curtains failed to protect from the prying eyes of shopkeepers, eager to ensure their merchandise was not lifted and taken without payment. Fashions were perused, styles were investigated, and the two left with a charming wardrobe for less than two hundred credits between the pair. Shopping was a necessity, since each arrived at the station empty-handed, but also something Krista had looked forward to. She desired to change her appearance to something stronger, edgier, after the attack, and projected her desires onto her companion.

Ina left with three sets of clothing. The first was a loose-fitting professional ensemble, with a silver synthetic-silk top made of fabric folded into vertical layers, bunching over her chest and on her shoulders. The second was a simple blue jacket and relaxed, tight-woven black cloth pants with many pockets, similar to the issue clothing of soldiers. The final set consisted of stretchy plastic clothes that had to be laced around the sides of the arms, bust and legs to fit properly. Ina bought various underclothes recommended by Krista; she was ensured the "sporty" fabric would be "functional."

After the shopping trip had concluded, the duo said their goodbyes, and Krista returned to a rented room while Ina chose an indirect route to the shuttle. Along the way, she purchased a variety of foods to experiment with, prepared goods, small sacks of carbohydrates and proteins, alongside vials of oil; she suspected she needed food to survive, and was unsure of how her intake requirements compared to humans. Analogous to a digestive tract, she contained some sort of system, and she wasn't sure if she was meant to process actual food or some specific synthetic fuel. She had eaten the sandwich a dozen kiloseconds before, and later took food with Krista. And she had no power loss events since the work on the shuttles. But she had not exerted herself at the same level as on the shuttle. According to her specifications, an exertion of that level should have been irrelevant.

***

The time passed with relative ease; Colin, Bronco, Liam and Ross spent their initial time gambling over cards. Pathik and Ina ran the ship while Rolf retreated to his quarters, pursuing business connections over the high-speed quantum link. The engines were burning at maximum cruise to make the trip to the Liberty station through free space. Rolf had decided Liberty-27 would be a way point to Grace-919, a free station deeper in space. Liberty didn't have work; the shuttle was efficient and carried fuel and food enough to make the journey without difficulty. They would cash in on some assets they had left behind, and move on.

Rolf was conflicted; he had wanted Colin to support Pathik in operating the shuttle controls, as in the past, but Ina had seemed to fall into the role with a natural grace. Colin didn't care about space navigation and was happy to defer, but Rolf was concerned about whatever Ina was hiding and he wouldn't bet on her sticking with the crew. Colin and Liam, Ross and Pathik were simple people: they grew past adolescence, finished secondary education, and sought out a job beyond what the establishment could offer them. Most of his crew was interested, primarily, in the same thing as Rolf: money. Ina might have her own motives, and Rolf couldn't understand them, whether she was an untrustworthy addict or something else.

Pathik was pleased and slightly alarmed at how Ina took to piloting the shuttle. The task wasn't overwhelming, but she took to an understanding of the system at a speed that belied her professed lack of experience. Pathik supposed Quorum engineers must be like this, educated in the best programs, and let loose on difficult problems. He wouldn't know, born to a poor family, attending a local unaccredited program, and released upon the galaxy. The issue didn't matter to him he decided in the end - she must have been lying when she said she'd never piloted a ship.

Colin had managed to restock basic supplies. Synthesizing compounds using his medical kit was complex and required attention. Most other medics wouldn't have the skill to manufacture drugs, but Colin had found the machine and mastered it over the course of thirty megaseconds, as often to provide himself with a high as to manufacture healing compounds. He had given Krista a great deal of his earlier inventory; she was thankful, but in words, and not currency. He preferred to be paid, since he had wanted to sell the excess chemicals he'd made rather than giving them to charity, but felt no particular need to push the issue. Rolf made sure his supplies were adequate with crew funds before the profits were dispersed.

Bronco enjoyed gambling with the crew, perhaps to excess. He tried to get Pathik and Ina to play, but they had no desire. And he was glad Rolf didn't play; Bronco owed Rolf enough money as it was. Bronco was happy that he was working with a crew, with people he felt like he could trust. And the money he owed didn't seem to matter a lot; the sums Ross and Liam owed him were not entirely small.

Ina found the hum of the shuttle's engines soothing, and was satisfied as the crew seemed to leave her alone during the trip.