“A citizen?” asked Rafel with heavy skepticism as he stood, leaning heavily against the counter next to him and tapping his memo pad carelessly against it. Rafel was short and stocky reptilian creature with dark beady eyes that darted around most of the time as if they couldn’t keep still. Rafel was a good person, though uneducated and from an impoverished background. He worked well in his skill set, maintenance on their ship, but he was of little use on anything else. When Jalldrid informed him that a Citizen was coming with them on their next haul, Rafel’s understanding of what a citizen actually was prevented him from comprehending such a thing.

“Come on, Jall,” Rafel said, shortening Jalldrid’s name with a soft laugh, “What are you saying? You expect me to believe that?”

“Just… just.” Jalldrid replied, unsure how to respond. The two of them were in the lobby of the DRIAS booking agency, Rafel had come for some maintenance reports. “I don’t care if you believe me, or even if you understand” he snapped back at Rafel who looked back carelessly at him, “Just get the Stirrups ionized and make sure all the labor have where their uniforms on properly. We are going to leave on schedule today, understood?”

“Yes sir, Boss,” Rafel replied sardonically with a salute.

Jalldrid scowled, but left the scene without a word. He couldn’t blame Rafel for his reaction. He had never strictly enforced all the policies that the company was supposed to have. When you employ people like Rafel, it is best to give them a little slack and let them do their thing without too much regulation. But today was different, today they needed to give the Citizen a good show.

Jalldrid gritted his teeth, it was nearly 0600 already and they were still a half an hour at least away from actual departure. Who was he trying to fool? His company was an operation held together by the vision of Jerall and a few scraps of metal. The employees they hired were a ragtag bunch of scoundrels because those were the only types they could afford to pay and they had a hard time paying them as it was.

Their ship was technically a licensed Roto-Hualer, but in reality it was an old shuttlecraft from an R-9 Syrrilian passenger liner about ten decades past its expiration retrofitted to be able to support a roto-engine. Again, it was the cheapest equipment they could lease from Asdred, and the only reason it remains serviceable are the extensive repairs that Rafel and Jalldrid constantly put into it.

Looking at his own company with an unbiased view, he could see little value in it. Its assets were practically non-existence, but then again so were the liabilities and equity. All that the company really was a bunch of expenses that offset practically every revenue they had.

Jalldrid stopped in the middle of the hallway, fighting the urge to bang his head against the wall. The more he thought about the situation, the more he regretted ever following his sister over to the citizen’s table and engaging in this mad pursuit. Sure, he was really proud of his own company and its accomplishments, but the thought of trying to show it off to a Citizen… Jalldrid felt nauseous. He leaned his head against the cool siding of the hallway, ignoring the peoples passing by. He had had a sleepless night last night.

“Jalldrid! How does the wall feel?” his sister’s voice carried across the hall, light and chipper. It was clear she was not feeling the pressures he was.

“Cool and comforting.” Jalldrid replied wearily, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” He continued, looking up at his sister, “listen, I don’t think-“

There he was! Standing next to his sister uncomfortably in a dark blue jumpsuit with the Freeline Transport logo etched into the front! By the power converters on the space station, had Jerall actually asked the Citizen to wear their uniform for the journey? The scene was so unexpected Jalldrid was dumbfounded.

“I didn’t get much sleep either,” Jerall said practically bouncing up and down, “I found Bob meandering the hall a little bit ago and lent him one of our uniforms. I was just telling Bob how excited we are to be able take him on this trip with us and show us what we are all about. This is a great opportunity for both of us, and I predict, a lasting and fruitful partnership.”

“Right,” Jalldrid replied faintly. He had had a slight hope that the citizen would think better of this and not show up at all. “I’m going to get the shipment details from DRIAS and we can go over them together once we get going.”

“Already got them,” Jerall replied, waiving the docu-pads in front of him and moving forward, leading the group to the hanger bay where their ship was docked.

Jalldrid frowned, following his sister, “Really? When have you cared about the docu-pads? You always leave that to me.”

“ha, ha,” Jerall said carelessly with a smile, “what are you saying? You know how much all the details in a job matter.”

“As a matter of fact I do,” Jalldrid muttered to himself. Did she need to show off so obviously in front of the Citizan? “Did Lucross say anything about the move?” Jalldrid continued, “I usually can get additional info from him when I get the Docu-pads.”

“Nothing special,” Jerall replied casually, “That dispatcher was pretty groggy this morning. It looks like he had a rough night last night, if you know what I mean. This is a pretty standard trip.”

Jalldrid grunted and said nothing. Bob spoke up suddenly, “What are these transaction details or docu-pads you are talking about?”

Jerall gave her brother a look telling him to explain it Jalldird stomach turned, but he complied. “You might think that a move occurs,” Jalldrid spoke as if it was a prepared speech, “when the actual goods are transported from the origin to the destination. But the truth is far from that, the move technically occurs when I have the possessor of the goods at origin says that Freeline has taken the goods from him and then when Freeline has the destination possessor of the goods say Freeline released the goods to him.”

Bob looked uncertain so Jalldrid continued, “in other words, unless I get these docu-pads, given to us by the Booking agent, in this Case DRIAS, by the way. Unless I get these duco-pads imprinted by the warehouse where we pick up the goods and then get it imprinted again at whatever the destination might be, it would mean the move did not take place and we wouldn’t get paid for doing the job. These docu-pads are the move, in a sense.”

“Interesting.” Bob replied unconvincingly and Jerall gave a short laugh.

“I think so too, that is why I leave all these trivial matters to Jalldrid to take care of, while I actually get the job accomplished.”

“It’s not trivial” Jalldrid protested, finding it difficult to match his sister’s mood, “When getting paid is dependent upon these docu-pads getting completed properly. And I see that you have apparently have seen the importance of them yourself, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered getting the docu-pads from DRIAS this morning.”

“True, true,” she replied lightly. “Also, I need to tell you, we are transporting a passenger on this trip. I mean,” she looked back at Bob and winked, “other than our esteemed Citizen.”

“Another passenger?” Jalldrid replied in anguish, “My dear sister, you need to tell me these things before hand, we don’t have the supplies for this, and we are not prepared for another additional passenger. Galaxy, woman! Where are we picking up the passenger and where is his destination?”

“It can’t be helped;” Jerall responded moodily, his irritation breaking her bubbly atmosphere, “I just made arrangement this morning for her. You’ll just have to get some more supplies and make sure our guests are comfortable. We are picking her up only a couple parsecs out of route after we pick up the goods, but her destination is the same. It won’t be a problem and her pay is good.”

“Sister…” Jalldrid growled, but he did not want to make a scene in the corridor, much less in front of Bob. But where in the galaxy had Jerall even gotten the job for the passenger? DRIAS does put these types of jobs on their job board, but those were few and far between. But then again, did it matter? Jerall was right; passenger jobs were easy money and were much coveted by the various Hauling agencies on the station. It was most likely that she had picked up the job from DRIAS when she got the docu-pads this morning.

“Alright, we are here.” Jerall announced, as if either of them could have missed the fact that the blast doors had opened up and that the huge bay full of ships was ahead of them. Still it was an impressive sight and Bob’s eyes lighted up at the sight.

Inside the bay hundreds of ships of sat patiently, like a pack of slumbering giants. The ships were of various sizes of course, some located as far left as possible in order to utilize the tallest ceilings that way. These ships filled the entire volume up from ceiling to floor and ate up much of the ground space as well, so much so that Bob had to ask, “How can they even fit those ships in here? There hardly seems as much of a meter room for error.”

“Of course,” Jerall responded. She had not stopped to look at the large ships and it was clear to Bob that theirs wasn’t of the large type, “The computers have sophisticated landing algorithms that synchronize their movements with the ship’s own sensors, the stations fine-tuned sensors, and also with the large roto-engines this station has installed to help guide ships in. I doubt an actual person handles the controls on the landing. It is a very complicated movement and I think we are fortunate not to have to be bothered with that at all. My excellent piloting skills are enough to move our baby around.”

Bob nodded in acknowledgement and kept his eyes wide looking at all the beautiful spaceships they were passing by. Jalldrid felt his stomach twist in a knot, feeling again that this was all one big mistake. Their ship didn’t compare with these ones. While in function, the biggest ships docked in the left portions and the docking bay to take use of the height their and the smaller ships docked to the right, the reality was that the ships were unofficially ranked from best to worst.

Sitting on the very last docking pad, the furthest away from the entry way, laid their ship, a dirty gray hulk. Jerall never expressed any form of discontent with their ship or disgust at their last place in the hierarchy and Jalldrid did his best not to let it bother him either. They had their own pride as it was being the only independently owned hauling company in the station, but now with the comparison between their ship and even the small ship next to theirs, Jalldrid could not help but feel ashamed.

“Our beautiful ship!,” Jerall said as if she was showcasing a precious treasure, “We call her the renegade, but we haven’t had time to print that name on the sides,” Jalldrid didn’t think that there was even a good place for the printing on the battered un-uniform surface, “We named it after our aspiration of becoming an independently operating hauling business outside of Asdred’s influence.”

“The ship is a revamped R-9 class shuttle and it is equipped class 9s Roto-engine. The Renegade is fully licensed within DRIAS standards of course, otherwise we wouldn’t be able haul their job’s, and it also conforms to Asdred operating conditions. The engine is original with the ship, but carries with it modifications of our own to make it work more efficiently.”

Jalldrid snorted at her last statement. The only modifying that he and Rafel had done on it was to make sure it continued to run. When she said that this was the original engine meant that it was really old and needed constant repairs in order to keep it running.

“Still,” Jerall continued, bringing the group up to the ship and typing figures into a control patch on her wrist that opened the door on the ship. The hydraulics let out a whine of compliant as it moved slightly, opening up like a maw on a Vorashnish Salamander, each side slid out separately. “When we first got the ship, it was still operating under D-1 Hauling authority, so we had to reissue many of the old Dresign relays in order to get it up to code with the new D-3…” Bob interrupted her speech.

“Wait, just hold on.” He spoke, sounding a little lost and annoyed about it. Jalldrid looked at him in slight alarm. “I won’t pretend to understand most of what you are saying, you are probably already aware I am ignorant about much of the hauling industry. I don’t really know anything so you can probably leave much of the technical details. But honestly,” he added with an almost cynical disbelief pointing at the ship with his left hand, “How can you haul goods with that ship?”

Jalldrid felt his stomach twist up, almost making him groan. He knew it would be like this, he knew their operation could only create scorn from somebody like a Citizen…

But then Bob continued almost desperately, “I mean, where do you store the goods in a ship that small?”

Jalldrid could only stare back at the Citizen in disbelief, the thought that this man could not be a Citizen flashed inside him again. Jerall responded kindly after a brief moment. “It’s good question,” she lied, “we don’t actually store any goods on the ship during the job. We have what is called a roto-engine onboard and while the device can be used for many different types of work, it is most often used to haul large quantities of goods through space. All that it takes is a powerful enough engine to operate it. An engine we have, by the way.”

Bob looked uncertain, “How does the roto-engine haul goods? What is it?”

Jalldrid wanted to bite the man’s head off, asking him how he could possibly not know what a Roto-enginge was and whether or not he was actually a real citizen and not some fake. Instead, he replied shakily, trying to get over the fact that he is explaining an elementary concept to a citizen when he had previously thought citizens were all-knowing. “Its like this, all the ship really needs to do is to operate the roto-engine. The Roto-engine throws what could be described as a large net around the goods, the field it produces reduces the mass the goods in the net have and also attaches the whole thing onto the ship housing the roto-engine. With a roto-engine, even a ship like the Renegade can easily haul a shipment 10 time sits size. Similar to the size of the shipment of processed carbonite we are planning to haul today.”

Bob nodded as if he understood, but was clear he didn’t. “I’m looking forward to seeing it in action.” His cheeks were slightly flushed, recognizing the fact that he had embarrassed himself with the question.

Without pause Jerall led Bob into the Renegade with Jalldrid following behind, “We are always working on improving our operation, whether it be with our organizational structure, types of labor we hire, and direct modifications to the Renegade. Most recently, we have added manually operated grapples to allow us to move the goods around us while in space, rather than having to send out teams or have another shuttle move in to GAPSD to assist us in minute maneuvers.”

The lights flickered on uneasily and lit up the inside cabin in a dull white light. But even as Jerall continued to speak, they warmed up and got brighter, “The ship can roughly be divided into 3 compartments disproportionally and two decks. The living quarters, including sleeping quarters and galley are down this hall on the top deck,” Bob peered down the alleyway that led to a room that was clearly the kitchen and dining area. Small hatchways along the hallway betrayed the several sleeping quarts lined next to each other there.

“Below on the lower deck is the operating room.” Jerall explained, actually leading them down there. It was difficult to tell what the room actually held it was so full of equipment and bulkheads jutting out irregularly; there was hardly any room to move around. “This area used to a lounge of sorts when it was built, but that was just wasted space,” she moved in, squeezing her thin body inside the small pathways created around the piles of misc equipment and tables. Jalldrid was about to suggest that the citizen didn’t need to see this particular area of the ship, but the man followed her without hesitation and Jalldrid just shook his head.

The lighting in here was severely dim due to the clogging of the room, but Jerall was experienced enough to walk through it without issue. Bob on the other hand, could hardly put one foot in front of the other without bumping or crashing into something. Jerall snickered at him. “This is the Roto-engine,” she said, pointing out a large outcropping of machinery that seemed to be one complete unit, “As you can see, it is taking up the primary amount of space in this area.”

Bob touched the panels and casing with his hand as if it might break at his touch. “I see.” He said softly.

“Also down here,” Jerall continued, pulling Bob forward “is the engine room, taking up half of the lower deck space. The engine room used to be sealed off from the rest of the lower deck, but since then we needed to upgrade the engine and now that the whole ship is basically all commercial use anyway, there really isn’t a need to separate the rooms.”

The engine room could hardly be called a room; it was rather just a continuation of the mess that was the lower deck. Even if they had told Bob, he wouldn’t have been able to distinguish the grappling hook controls from the fusion reactor.

“And lastly,” Jalldrid intervened, understanding that an explanation of the ships power would be a waste of time, “We have the control center and bridge.” He pointed up the narrow ladderway that led up half a level.

“right,” Jerall continued, “The bridge is on neither the top floor nor the bottom floor, but the quasi-space between floors,” she said with fake theatrics, “It is just in the front of the ship and connected the two floors.” There was a sealed door between the bridge and the lower deck and she passed through the ladder way with Bob right behind her.

A voice calling out to Jalldrid made him depart from his sister. “Rafel,” Jalldrid spoke, makeing his way back through the lower deck, “Are we fueled up?” Jerall continued the tour, taking the citizen up to the bridge.

“Yes, yes,” Rafel replied, “and the Stirrups- are properly ionized, just like you asked.” Jalldrid saw that the mechanic didn’t have his full uniform on as he had asked him too, but suddenly he realized he really didn’t care. Nothing was going to make the trip any better than it was. “Was that the esteemed Citizen?” he asked, looking over Jalldrid’s shoulder at the figure now leaving the lower deck.

“I have no idea,” was Jalldrid’s rough reply, “He says he is and he’s got the headgear to prove it, but I’ve never been so disillusioned in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he… he doesn’t seem to know anything! He doesn’t know basic norms or elementary concepts. He’s totally naive, like he grew up in a totally isolated environment!”

Rafel frowned, “Maybe he did. You don’t know what it means to be a citizen. I hear that some citizens in a family are simply kept in luxury their whole lives and never actually leave their homes ever.”

Jalldrid shook his head, “I don’t know, the whole thing is giving me stomach pains.” He slapped his mechanic on the shoulder, “I want this job to go as smoothly as possible, alright? It is a straightforward job; it shouldn’t be a problem for us. Just make sure the engine stays running.”

“Right’o Boss,” Rafel responded sardonically again. He paused for a moment “and what about section 17? You two have considered that as well, right?”

Jalldrid’s gut twisted for the tenth time that morning. He wouldn’t be surprised if his innards weren’t a tangled mess by now. “Of course we have.” He said resolutely. Not that that actual meant anything.

“Where is our esteemed Citizen going to be sleeping, might I ask?” Rafel continued.

Jalldrid sighed one last time, “Of course, he’ll be in the guest quarters. But then again, our captain has also signed aboard a hiker we will be taking on up after our origin pickup. So that means that we will have two extra people on board and since we want to give our citizen the most comfort we can afford, the captain will be giving up her quarters and sharing one with me.”

Rafel winced, “Does she know about this?”

“Not yet,” was the resigned reply, “this is going to be a rough trip.”