JessicaRae

The writing does continue! I haven't kept up with my backlog this week, but I finally got over a major hump that will hopefully allow me to continue further at a decent pace. Enjoy!

The administration hub was busy as usual. People milled about like a colony of ants, each with a different purpose, a different job, but all working within one place and towards the singular goal of profit for themselves and the station. Some were secretaries and pages moving about with data pads and cargo manifests, some were maintenance personnel, tinkering with systems here and there. There were also scores of business people trying to close out the latest deal and citizens of the station, there to lodge complaints for one reason or another. 

Where the lift let off was in the central atrium of the hub. A large circular room dominated most of the central sphere of the station, with smaller offices and individual meeting rooms lining the walls. In the very center of the room stood the enclosed tubular control center that ran the entire height of the sphere. A dozen levels of desks, computer arrays, and traffic controllers made up the brains of the entire station. 

I led Echo through the fray and to one of the larger offices towards the opposite side of the hub where the docking authority worked out of. We were unable to talk much as the din of the arrayed crowd drowned out all but the loudest of voices. It was almost scary to think of what this place would have been like in its heyday. 

After shoving our way through one last group of pilots discussing the latest environmental reports, we made it to the back office and I pinged the occupants to notify them of a visitor. A couple moments later the door opened and I was greeted with a face I recognized and another I didn’t. 

The former was Raork, the dock master over all of D’reth Station. If you wanted to put a ship in a hangar or dock to a ring, you had to go through him first. Luckily, while he was stern and strict about procedures, Raork was actually a very good person to know. Outside of work he was relaxed and had plenty of stories to share, while at work he was a stickler for rules but would bend over backwards for anyone that stayed respectful and was willing to walk the line, even for some things that weren’t really under his purview. He was well respected in nearly every corner of the station. 

The latter, sitting in a chair across the meeting table from Raork, was a middle aged man who was obviously a captain even just looking at him. The smooth black leather jacket he wore was embossed with a runed compass sitting atop a stylized tree flanked by two symbols and underlined with the name Ratatosk in a fancy runic looking font. His sandy hair was pushed back but still hung loosely over steel gray eyes and a curious look pointed my way. As Echo came into view behind me, the look shifted to a paternal smile. 

“There’s my girl! Glad to have you join us, Callisto, my dear.” He gave a pointed glance at me before returning to her. “Care to introduce me to your friend?”

Echo gave a long suffering sigh and an eye roll to her father. “Dad, I love you, but I’ve told you a thousand times that you don’t need to be all paternal on me like that in public!” 

She groaned and shook her head, obviously embarrassed by the display. Though by the slight glint in her eyes, she did get some enjoyment out of it. Ah, the joy of affirmation. 

“This is Soren. H-They were the pilot that helped move those crates out of our hold. Soren was giving me a tour of the station when you messaged me.” 

I chose not to comment on the caught word as I didn’t want to accidentally out myself, but a mixture of panic at being discovered and euphoria at being referred to by anything other than masculine pronouns hit my heart as my respect for Echo grew by ten fold. 

Roark spoke up at that point. “Yes, Soren is an excellent pilot and has helped out around the station quite a bit in the last few years. A good man, always good on his documentation too! I’m sure he has been a perfect gentleman with your daughter, captain.”

Wanting to make a good impression, I gave Raork a smile and a nod before turning a friendly smile and an outstretched hand to the other man. “Soren Matson. Pleasure to meet you, Captain.” 

He stood and took the proffered handshake firmly with a returning smile. “Marcus Erickson, captain of the freighter Ratatosk. The pleasure is mine, Mr. Matson. Thank you for escorting my daughter. Even if she should still be on the ship…” Marcus gave a humored side eye to Echo, who gave an insincere pout back to her father. It was heartwarming to see the relaxed relationship between the two. 

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, Mr Matson, I do need to complete my business here. Perhaps after we finish and get the ship arranged, you can recommend a restaurant in the promenade for some dinner and a drink? Our stores of real alcohol on the ship are rather thin right now and I could definitely go for something stiff this evening to celebrate another successful payday. The ship cook is good, but I think I could stand for a change from her as well.” He chuckled.

I let out a light laugh too. Seeing the father unknowingly give such a similar statement to his daughter was funny to me. “Alright then. Echo, want to take my com code? Would make it easier to contact me than the station communications systems.” She nodded and I flicked my wrist to bring up my holopad. After a moment to ensure I was sending the right contact information, I bumped my wrist against hers to transfer the information to her device. Both beeped to signify that the exchange had been made. 

We each said our respective goodbyes and I left the office in good spirits. Sure, the early work and tour had fried my usual schedule, but it had been a good day regardless. Seeing as it was still only early in the station’s second shift though, I decided that I should at least try to do something else productive for the day still. After a moment in the lift to ponder, I rerouted my lift from the promenade to the salvage arm personal hangars. 

A drink from a vendor in hand, I made my way to my personal hangar. I wouldn’t have enough time left in my day to go out into the debris fields for salvage work, but I had plenty of time to tinker on my current projects. As the door closed behind me, I called out to my assistant A.I.

“Hey, Vox! Put my work playlist on the overhead and isolate my hangar. I’m going to work here until I’m ready to go back to my quarters for the evening. Allow personal calls, but send anything else to voicemail. And uhh… put in an order of Purple Taro Curry to be delivered around dinner time.”

The AI’s cheerful voice rang out diligently through the hangar. “Of course, Miss Adresta. Will that be all?” At my affirmation, she again responded with “Very well. I am at your service should you need me.” 

I smiled as a blend of synthetic and symphonic tones began drifting through the space, echoing off the various implements and metallic parts littered about. The walls shimmered slightly as the hangar walls polarized to prevent undue transference of sound. As per the usual procedure, I also knew that as long as I kept my hangar isolated, the station communications panel was disabled and the doors were locked and would stay that way until I said so or an emergency override occurred. I was free to be myself and relax in my own personal bubble. 

A few steps took me into the lavatory where a quick change of clothes put me into my mechanic’s jumpsuit. Tools found their way into my hands as I moved over to the nacelle racks and the set of plasma conduits that were still laying disassembled on a smaller table nearby. I pulled up my welder and set to work on the components. 

Though it wasn’t very nice to my ears compared to my desired one, my voice joined the music in singing out through my hanger. It was a force of habit I had picked up from my mentor many years previous. He never sang, but he did consistently hum while he worked, mostly to classical Earth music. Much to my surprise though, I did find a group from amongst his music library that vibed with me, especially in the situation I found myself in on D’reth Station. 

The lyrics screamed out at the powers that be to not hold me back, I would steal my own crown. I resonated deeply with them as they decried the corruption and bigotry, the hypocrisy and the hate. Though I was not a citizen of the former country of the United States, I still felt connected with the sentiment of being an orphan of the American dream and all that flawed concept had entailed. I felt that I had been betrayed by the values that society held dear. And so my voice cried out with the songs.

Though I was blissfully ignorant, several hours were lost to the comfortable tedium of my work. Between the peace of being by myself, the music, and the steady movements of massaging old and broken pieces into functional components again, I had completely zoned out of reality. I came aware of my surroundings once more as I connected the last of the relays back into the port nacelle.

The protective plating still needed to be installed, along with the retracting struts they mounted to, but for all intents and purposes, the nacelles were complete and hopefully would work when powered. 

Of course the nacelles were useless without the faster-than-light navigation computer to guide them, but I was one step closer to being free to travel the stars.

No sooner had I wiped the sweat from my brow did my chime ring and Vox's modulated voice echoed in my head as the music faded out. 

"Miss Adresta, you have an incoming communications request from an individual tagged as 'Callisto Erickson', also known as 'Echo'. Considering your association with this individual, I took the liberty of bypassing the lock out."

I raised an eyebrow on the cheek of my AI assistant. "Yeah, let her through."

"Compliance!" 

A trio of tonal beeps fed through my subdermal pickup as the call connected. "Hello?"

Echo's silvery tones sounded out from my implant.

“Hey, Dad was apparently serious about the offer for dinner. I guess since you weren’t around to make a recommendation, he went ahead and made a reservation for us in the Sindiri Lounge.” Her voice shifted to a slightly more formal tone. “Captain Erickson requests that you join us for a meal and drinks.”

I immediately understood the intent of her usage of her father’s title and straightened up slightly in my seat. “Of course I will join. When is the reservation for?”

“Nineteen-hundred station time. See you there?”

“That you will. Bye.” 

A beep signaled the end of the call and I sighed. The Sindiri lounge was where the upper echelon of the station population ate and drank in the evenings. I had only been a couple times ever, and only once out of my own pocket. The food was some of the best in the sector, with imported meats and real goods from across the known galaxy, including from Earth. It was all very high quality, but carried a hefty price tag to boot. Perhaps even more impressive was the view. The lounge resided in the observation area that made up the very dorsal tip of the central hub of the station. The viewing ports offered the best spots on the station to get a naked glimpse out into the stars anywhere on board. 

“Hey, Vox? Best cancel my dinner order. Looks like I’m eating out formal tonight.”