“My name is First Sergeant Lee Hartman, and I am in charge of your combat training, which includes unarmed and armed combat, and your physical training and conditioning,” the man all but bellowed as he strode in front of the gathered students the first sol of classes. Two men and a woman stood across from the assembled students. “You will address me as First Sergeant or Top because I am the highest ranking noncommissioned enlisted man working at Titan Custer Academy.”

  I wonder who those others are. They’re all just as big as me or bigger while Hartman is smaller than me but what dad would call wiry, Mac thought. Maybe the other three are more sergeants since they have very similar insignia on their uniforms.

  “In case you’re wondering, the gentlemen and lady with me are Staff Sergeants Baldwin, Harewood, and Modine. You will address them as Sergeant or even Sarge if they allow you to do so,” Hartman continued in a slightly lower volume. “They are here to assist me with whipping you into shape.”

  “This isn’t the military,” Mac heard someone mutter.

  “Which one of you maggots opened your pie hole without permission?” Hartman demanded as he spun to face the crowd. A small hole formed to Mckenzie’s left. In the gap that had formed, Mac noticed Vincent Colceri.

  Must have been Vincent that had spoken, Mac thought. I’m sure we’re about to learn the penalty for speaking out of turn. Hopefully, it isn’t too bad.

  Vincent Colceri was one of the 20 or so earthlings attending TCA as a first-year student. He was also one of the 15 or so students that were larger than Mckenzie.

  “Did I give you permission to speak, cockroach?” Hartman asked once he was standing in Colceri’s face. Vincent’s face turned angry. The first sergeant had to look up at the larger, younger man. Mac noticed Hartman’s mouth twist as Vincent started to speak.

  Without warning, the top sergeant punched Colceri in the stomach. Vincent doubled over as most, if not all the class gasped in shock. Hartman followed his punch up with a left cross, which sent Colceri to the ground. Hartman turned and walked back to the front of the class.

  “Medic!” Sergeant Modine shouted.

  At least I think that’s Modine since the three sergeants were standing in line and Baldwin had nodded a fraction when Hartman had introduced him, Mac thought. Her voice is higher pitched than I thought it would be considering her size.

  “Sergeant Harewood,” Hartman said, glancing at the medic, who nodded at the first sergeant as Vincent stirred.

  “Yes Top?” the large dark-skinned man replied.

  “This maggot owes me 50 pushups. Make sure I get them before the end of this session,” Hartman said. “If he doesn’t do all 50, he’s out of the academy.”

  “Yes Top,” the other man agreed with a grin on his face as the students gasped in shock and outrage.

  “That’s right you maggots. I can expel you from the academy and it doesn’t matter who your family is or what executives you think you know, I promise you, I have the ear of more powerful executives, and they listen to me,” Hartman announced. He pointed to a glass walled office at a corner of the gym. “That is my office. At any point you think I’m being unfair or that you can’t cut my training, you can walk.”

  “And if you walk, you’re walking out of the academy,” Sergeant Baldwin added. That was met with more gasps of outrage and shock. Baldwin’s malicious grin matched the one Harewood had given them earlier.

  “Now students, you have five minutes to find your lockers in the changing room and get into the exercise clothing the academy has provided for you,” Hartman said. “Once you’re changed, we’re going on a nice one kilometer run to get warmed up. You will keep up with me or my assistants will provide you the proper motivation to keep up with me.”

  The staff sergeants grinned and pulled electronic prods from behind their backs.

  “This can’t be legal,” Ian Terry, one of the other wealthy students said.

  “Who gave you permission to speak?” Baldwin asked. He jumped forward and struck Ian with the prod.

  “That maggot owes me 50 for speaking out of turn,” Hartman stated as the younger man fell to the floor.

  “You’ll get them Top,” Modine promised.

  “Get moving you maggots!” Sergeant Hartman shouted. “Your five minutes starts now.”

  *

  “Edwards, you lack killer instinct,” Hartman said six months later. The combat android Mac had been practicing against let him go and stepped to the edge of the mat.

  “Yes Top!” Mac replied loudly. “I… have a hard time striking women, Top.”

  “So, you’re saying I should blame your mother?” Hartman asked, glancing at the female android.

  “No Top!”

  Hartman barked a laugh. “You’re learning but your skills are lacking despite your size and mass.”

  “Yes Top.”

  “Still, you’ve done well enough to pass. Congratulations,” the first sergeant said. “I’ll expect improvement over the next couple of years.”

  “Thank you, Top,” Mac replied.

  “Take a break and I’ll see you on the range in five minutes,” Hartman instructed.

  “Yes Top.”

  *

  “Time!” Hartman called. Mac checked his HUD readout before he ejected the magazine and cleared the barrel of the Titan Custer Echelon 50 flechette pistol, also known as a needler. Flechette rounds were more expensive than regular ammunition, but they were light and wouldn’t penetrate a ship’s hull or critical systems, so they were the standard shipboard ammunition. You could also buy poisonous, or tranquilizer rounds for needlers if you were willing to spend the extra credits.

  Though I’ve never seen a round stuck in the barrel, I’m still glad the sergeants had instructed us on and drilled us in weapon safety before letting us handle a real gun, Mac thought. “Weapon is clear, Top.”

  “Not bad. Slightly better than your unarmed combat,” Hartman said as he examined the target Mckenzie had been shooting.

  Yes! That means I’ve passed basic firearms training.

  “Congratulations. You’ve passed, but just like with your unarmed combat, I’ll expect you to improve while you’re here,” the first sergeant stated.

  “Top, I have a question.”

  “You want to know if this is all really necessary?”

  “Yes Top.”

  “It is,” the older man replied. “And much more often than you, me, or anyone else might wish too. There’s a lot of bad people out there. So, I expect you to put in the time to improve even if most of your class hours will be spent elsewhere.”

  “Yes Top,” Mac said. I’ll put in the time too. I don’t want to die.

  “Good. Dismissed”

  12

  Boy, TC really does love ripping people off, Mac thought. 500 credits for a half-hour video call with someone is way too much. But at least it was much cheaper than a round-trip ticket home and back would have cost me. And if I’m honest with myself, it was credit well spent since it made mom and dad happy.

  Mckenzie exited the message booth and waved to the attendant as he exited the building. The android didn’t wave back or acknowledge him in any way. He started wandering the campus with no destination in mind. Other than keeping up his PT and target practice, Mac didn’t have anything he really needed to do over the two-week break.

  This place feels deserted. Most of the students have gone home or on trips even if it added to their debts. Very few of us stayed for whatever reason, which I don’t doubt is mostly cost, Mac thought. Heck, even most of the faculty has vacated this place.

  “Mckenzie, you seem lost,” a voice said in his head.

  “Keeping tabs on me Saagar?”

  “Always except for when you’re in your bunk or the head,” the advisor AI answered. “The same goes for every other student assigned to me.”

  “Ah, that’s good to know,” Mac said. “I’m just killing time I guess.”

  “Might I suggest a more productive use of your time?” Saagar asked. “And no, I do not mean exercise or target practice. Your current plan for those is acceptable.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “How about getting a head start on learning the Yellowjacket and its systems? That will be the focus of your next semester,” the AI answered. “I can even allow you some early simulator time.”

  “I was actually thinking about finding an older ship and refurbishing it,” Mac said. “It’s allowed.”

  “Yes, it is. But why buy an older ship instead of accepting a new Yellowjacket? Is it the cost?”

  “That and I don’t like the Yellowjacket. That wasp shape is ugly and when compared to other sloops, the Yellowjacket is lacking in everything but armor,” Mac answered.

  “You think the Yellowjacket is ugly?”

  “Yes,” Mac laughed. “The only thing I like about it is the two large ‘eye’ ports on the bridge.”

  “You are not the first student to say they are ugly vessels,” Saagar replied.

  “They’re also larger than a single person can work alone comfortably,” Mckenzie said. “It’s like they were designed to force people to work together.”

  “You can always purchase bots or androids to help run it,” Saagar pointed out.

  “Or they were designed for that, which is much more likely,” Mac said. “I happened to notice that Iwatani’s other major business is robots.”

  “That is an astute observation that few first-year students make,” Saagar said. “What do you wish to do with your future ship other than sail the stars?

  “I haven’t really decided, but I know I don’t want to be a privateer or pirate,” Mac replied. “Hauling freight for corporations doesn’t sound too appealing either.”

  “You are limiting your options then, but with your combat scores so far, I cannot blame you for not wanting to do the first two options,” the AI remarked. “Being an independent space hauler can be profitable with the right routes, niche, ship, and connections, but that can take a very long time to do. The same goes for mining.”

  “Seems the academy prefers we become privateers,” Mac said, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

  “That is true. Titan Custer has profited greatly from its privateers over the last few decades and is why this academy was founded in the first place,” Saagar confirmed.

  I guess I can find a fast ship with enough cargo space and become a smuggler, Mac thought. People always want things corporations don’t allow them and that isn’t just drugs and weapons.

  “Perhaps I could be a courier or scout,” Mac said aloud as the thought hit him.

  “Those are not bad options though being a courier is little more than a glorified hauler that specializes in small cargo and ferrying passengers,” his advisor explained. “And a scout is not really profitable while being much riskier.”

  Yeah, seeking out and spying on others isn’t the sort of thing one does for their long-term career goals or life expectancy. Scouting is sort of like privateering except taking a smaller cut since you’re not doing the actual fighting. But it would also be exciting, which is a large part of the attraction of being aboard a ship in the first place. Speaking of exciting…

  “What about being an explorer?” Mac asked, voicing his thoughts. “There’s lots of unexplored space out there.”

  “You wish to see new worlds and go where no man has gone before?” Saagar asked. Mac laughed. “Being an explorer is a noble calling, and it can pay quite handsomely if you discover the right planet or a rich asteroid belt, though most people that take up the calling are poor and in heavy debt. Being an explorer is also dangerous.”

  “Aliens?” Mac laughed.

  “No. The chance of finding extraterrestrial intelligent life is marginally small. The risk comes in not being able to repair your ship, crashing into asteroids, pirates, privateers, or even being sucked into an undiscovered black hole.”

  “Oh, that’s just the usual stuff,” Mac quipped.

  “There is also the chance of running out of food and fuel,” Saagar pointed out. “Sloops, ketches, cutters, and schooners are not good ships for exploring. They were designed to haul freight and for combat.”

  “Even a heavily customized one?”

  “While a properly customized sloop, ketch, or other ship would be better at the job than a standard one, they still wouldn’t be as good as a ship designed from the ground up for exploring,” the AI answered.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  “So, if I was serious about being an explorer, I would need a custom-built ship that doesn’t really fit an existing type,” Mac said.

  “That or a caravel, but the last of those were built over 150 years ago. The design never really caught on and the market was small since probes are most often used to explore.”

  “Why is that? People are always exploring.”

  “Caravels were not as heavily armed or armored as similar sized ships. They also were not as fast despite their slightly smaller size. Plus, probes are cheap,” Saagar explained. “But a caravel’s advantage was its maneuverability and longer legs.”

  “So, a caravel could outrun a sloop if it had enough of a head start?”

  “Outrun? No. Outlast? Yes, provided the other ship’s guns did not have enough range.”

  “Caravels must have decent cargo capacity though.”

  “No. Caravels had roughly two thirds the capacity of a similar sized ship. But when talking about the size difference, a caravel was often only a few meters smaller while being several tons lighter.”

  “Are or were caravels at least more fuel efficient than other ship types?” Mac asked.

  “Yes. That is one of the things that gave them longer legs in addition to their large fuel tanks and standard fuel scoops.”

  Caravels come with fuel scoops? That would save a lot of credits on fuel. But I bet upgrading a caravel would be expensive, Mac considered. “Thanks Saagar. I think I should do some research on caravels. That might be just the type of ship I need.”

  “You are most welcome. But are you serious about this?”

  “Yes,” Mac answered after a moment.

  “Then I will assist you by starting a query of nearby systems for caravels.”

  “Why would you do that? I mean, it’s not part of your duties, right?”

  “You are one of my students, Mckenzie, and I want to see you as well as the others succeed,” Saagar answered.

  “Thanks Saagar,” Mac said. “I really appreciate the help.”

  13

  Do I really want a Caravel? Mac asked himself for the umpteenth time. Saagar was correct, which wasn’t surprising.

  Every caravel class that had been built had limited cargo space, lighter armor, few weapons, and like modern ships, could be upgraded with jump drives. But very few ever got that upgrade since jumping into undocumented systems wasn’t just stupid, but it was extremely hazardous. Those are quite a few negatives and another reason the class faded into history. Seemed those that had owned caravels and used them to explore had only jumped into systems that probes had done preliminary scans of first. What a waste.

  Mac wiped his eyes and stifled a yawn. He had been doing research for hours. On the positive side of things, there’s the high-end sensors, the efficient engine and reactor, fuel scoop, and larger fuel and water tanks which means cheaper costs. Caravels were also designed to be operated by a single person or very small crew in some cases.

  Plus, every one of them had been built with a captain’s cabin, lounge, and small galley to provide some comfort and distractions on long voyages. That would keep me from having to waste an upgrade on that stuff, which I know I’d do eventually because I plan on the ship being my home for a long time. Heck, a few of the designs even have one or two other cabins for crew and passenger quarters.

  He looked at the image of a Donzi Industries Nina class caravel. The Nina class had been one of the more popular caravels. The ship was long and narrow, and almost shaped like an arrow instead of a bullet.

  It’s not much to look at, Mac mused. But the design should allow it to go into and out of any planet’s atmosphere easily enough. And that would help with any smuggling or high value cargo shipping I do to planets. The design wouldn’t help with mining though.

  Mckenzie yawned and dismissed the information. He could do more research after training and target practice in the morning. Mac got ready for bed and then hit the hay.

  *

  I really miss mom’s cooking, Mac thought once again as he ate his lunch. The cafeteria’s frozen pizza tasted about like cardboard. And I should know since I tried eating a piece of cardboard on a dare as a kid. It’s amazing the old box material was still around and being used hundreds of years after its invention.

  He snorted and looked around. The only other person in the cafeteria got up, and left, leaving her tray on the table.

  Some people are just too entitled, Mac thought shaking his head. One of the cafeteria bots moved to the table, removed the tray, and cleaned the table. Then again, maybe I was just raised to be old-fashioned and clean up after myself like the few others that bus their trays.

  Some movement at the entryway caught his attention. A stunning blonde haired woman wearing coveralls stood there. She glanced around the room and her metallic blue eyes landed on him. The woman walked over.

  She has metal cat ears! She’s a droid! Mac thought. He paid close attention to the woman as she approached. Other than the eye color and ears, she doesn’t look much different than any other attractive woman I’ve ever seen.

  “Mckenzie Edwards?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, and you are?”

  “Chief Alexandra,” the droid replied. “I’m in charge of ship services here at Titan Custer Academy.”

  Huh. I wasn’t aware the academy had a droid in such a powerful position. But it makes sense. She can work harder, longer, and retain more knowledge than a human can.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Chief. How can I help you?” Mac said instead of voicing his thoughts and asking questions.

  “You are mistaken. I’m here to assist you,” Chief Alexandra replied. “Saagar informed me you wished to find a caravel and refurbish it instead of purchasing a Yellowjacket from the academy.”

  “Uh… yes.”

  “Are you unsure?” the droid asked, giving him a questioning look.

  “Sorta. My research shows that caravels have a lot of negatives when compared to similar, newer ship classes.”

  “True, but caravels also have positives that for the proper individual will outweigh the negatives,” the Chief retorted. “The question is are you the proper individual?”

  “That I’m unsure of, but I’d like to think so,” Mac answered.

  “Would it help you to see a caravel in person?”

  “There’s a caravel at the academy or on Europa?”

  “No,” the droid laughed. “But there are three that Saagar and I found in the Luyten’s Star, Epsilon Indi, and Proxima Centauri systems that are for sale that we can inspect.”

  The Chief’s speech is more casual than Saagar’s. I guess that’s to make her seem more human, Mac mused. “I don’t have the funds or time to arrange transport to three systems before classes start back.”

  “We’ll take one of the academy’s jump capable ships,” Chief Alexandra said. “The cost will be added to what you owe TCA though.”

  “Of course,” Mac replied. “What are the available caravels?”

  “At Luyten’s Star is a Donzi Industries Nina, at Proxima Centauri is a Quan Shipyards Zheng He, and at Epsilon Indi is a McKnight Shipbuilders Merlin,” the droid answered. “Though McKnight was acquired by Takeda Industries 50 years ago, so I suppose the Merlin is a Takeda Industries craft now. So, are you interested in taking a trip and seeing some caravels?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you willing to add the cost of the trip to your academy debt?” Saagar asked. Mac jumped.

  “I didn’t know you were listening in, Saagar,” Mac said. The AI didn’t respond. “And yes, I’ll willing to add the cost to my debt.”

  “Done,” Saagar announced. “Permission is granted as well.”

  “Then, let’s go,” Chief Alexandra said. She turned and started walking away. She stopped when Mac didn’t immediately follow. The droid turned and watched as he bussed his tray. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “It’s the way I was raised,” Mac replied with a shrug.

  “Interesting,” the Chief said. She led him out.

  14

  “You’re flying?” Mac asked Chief Alexandra as she took the Horntail’s pilot’s seat. The Horntail or wood wasp was another Iwatani wasp shaped ship but unlike the smaller Yellowjacket, the Horntail was a small schooner. She pointed him to the copilot’s chair.

  “Yes. Do you have an issue with that?” she replied as he sat and strapped in.

  “No Chief,” Mckenzie answered as she buckled up. He heard the engines start.

  “Good, but let me guess, you’ve never heard of a droid pilot before?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Mac confessed. “It makes sense though. I mean most human pilots rely on their ship’s AI to pilot the ship at least half the time anyway.”

  “True,” the Chief agreed as she cleared their launch with traffic control. The Horntail lifted off and headed for orbit.

  The Chief must be communicating wirelessly since she isn’t speaking. I suppose I’ll be able to do that, well subvocalize where it’ll seem like that in time.

  “Chief, do droids ever have surnames?” Mac blurted out as the thought occurred to him. “Oh! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. That’s a common question,” Chief Alexandra said. “The only time and place droids receive surnames is in systems that allow humans to marry us.”

  “Marriage between humans and droids is possible?” Mac asked. We are one weird species, but I see the desire. Having someone that is literally programmed to love you unconditionally and even do your every bidding is appealing. I’ll admit I’m curious, but I think I’ll be sticking with human women.

  “Not in the home system, but in a few systems such as Epsilon Indi, yes,” she replied, turning Mac from his thoughts. “And before you ask, no, it’s not something I care about. My programming doesn’t allow for emotions that deep.”

  “Ah,” Mac muttered. That’s a pity. Even AI powered androids deserve happiness and love. Perhaps once I pay my debt off, I’ll move out of the home system and not return. He shook off those thoughts and stared out the ports. “I do love that view.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” the Chief warned. “We’ll be jumping to Proxima Centauri once we get clear of Jupiter’s gravity well.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Five minutes.”

  “Which ship is there and what’s the name of the business that has it?” Mac asked.

  “The Zheng He is located at scrapyard called Bubba’s Parts and Scrap.”

  “That name doesn’t give me warm and fuzzy feelings that the Zheng He will be in even decent shape,” Mac remarked.

  “No, but it should be cheap, and Saagar is allowing you a work study program this upcoming semester so you can work on whichever ship you end up with since you tested out of both parts of the basic repair and ship handling courses,” the Chief explained. “And you’ll have me, repair bots, and some other engineers doing most of the refurbishment work as well as supervising you.”

  “Thank you. That’ll let me save even more credits,” Mac said.

  “Don’t be so sure of that until after we see the ships,” Chief Alexandra warned. “And everything we do that you don’t, goes on the expense list.”

  *

  “Fred Smith is the name. Parts and scrap are my game,” the name said with a fake smile. Like most born in a gravity free or low gravity environment, Fred was tall and skinny. “Are you the folks looking for the caravel?”

  The Chief didn’t answer him, so Mac did. “We are. I’m Mckenzie Edwards and this is Chief Alexandra.”

  “You can call me Fred,” the man said.

  “Alright Fred,” Mac replied.

  “I had the Zheng He brought inside, so you won’t have to suit up,” Fred said. “Right this way.”

  The Chief and Mac exchanged a look and followed Fred though the large scrapyard.

  “I wish I had brought some kind of glasses or goggles,” Mac muttered. “This orangish light is getting to me.”

  “The other two stars are red dwarves, so their light will be more comfortable for you,” Chief Alexandra replied.

  “Why would a red dwarf’s light be more comfortable for you?” Fred asked.

  “I’m a Martian,” Mckenzie answered. “Even with all the terraforming that was done, the Mars sky is still reddish because of all the atmospheric dust.”

  “Alright,” Fred said. He pointed at a bullet shaped ship. “That’s the Zheng He. Feel free to board her if you like. My uncle had all the consoles and electronics stripped out years ago when he ran the yard.”

  Mac sighed. There where holes in the caravel, very large ones at that. I don’t see anything inside the ship except the bulkheads, but I should take a closer look.

  He walked up to the ship and stuck his head in one of the holes. Only trash was inside the ship as far as he could see in either direction. Even some of the bulkheads had been stripped out. “Was anything left inside her?”

  “Nothing valuable,” Fred answered.

  “And you want 80 million credits for this… ship?” the Chief asked.

  “That’s a bargain too,” Fred answered, the fake salesman smile on his face again. “The hull needs work, but the frame is good.”

  “I think we will pass,” she said. “Thank you for your time.”

  “That’s not your decision to make, robot,” Fred said.

  And there’s the other side of humanity. We’ve been a space faring species for hundreds of years and deep down we’re still racist, sexist, and whatever else we’ve always been.

  “Chief Alexandra isn’t a robot,” Mac said. “And she is correct. This isn’t the ship I want.”

  The Chief turned and walked away. Mac caught up and walked beside her.

  “Coming to my defense wasn’t necessary, but thank you,” the Chief said.

  “You’re welcome,” Mac replied. “How did you know I didn’t want the ship?”

  “I didn’t, but that wreck will need over 100 million credits in repairs to even approach being serviceable again,” she answered. “I would never approve that even if the finance department would.”

  “I’m glad you’re here, Chief,” Mac said. She smiled and nodded as they continued back to the Horntail.

  15

  “Good morning,” Chief Alexandra said as Mac joined her on the bridge the next sol. “Sleep well?”

  “Morning and yes,” Mac replied. He looked out of the forward view port at the red dwarf star. “So, that’s Luyten’s Star?”

  “It is and if you look to your right, you’ll see Luyten b or as its informally called, Luyten’s Rock,” the Chief answered. “We’re going to Hawat’s Haulers, which is located on the planet’s surface.”

  “Cool. I’ve always wanted to see what a super Earth is like.”

  “I suggest you do some reading on the planet while we have time. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed if you’re expecting Luyten b to be Earth like.”

  “Well, that sucks. You’re right. The ‘Rock’ is basically a heavier Mars,” Mac said after doing a bit of research. On the bright side, this implant is really coming in handy and earning its keep. I love the GalNet connection. “This isn’t going to be a fun trip for me. I don’t think I can handle three times Mars’ gravity.”

  “If nothing else, we’ll go slow and I’ll carry you if it comes to that,” The Chief replied.

  That’ll embarrass me,” Mac thought. “Thanks Chief. Hopefully, it won’t come to you carrying me like a child.”

  “You’re welcome,” Chief Alexandra replied. “Now, strap in. Traffic Control states the winds are kicking up down there.”

  *

  Mckenzie grunted no sooner than he had stepped out of the ship fully. “Geez, this is harder than I thought it would be. It’s like carrying three of me.”

  “Go slow,” the Chief advised. “I’ve summoned a hovercraft. It’ll be here momentarily.”

  “Thanks Chief,” Mac replied. He took the time to look around as the droid went back inside the ship.

  The ‘Rock’ had a thin, but breathable atmosphere. The sky was a deep reddish orange, which was darker than Mars’ sky. Except for a few trees, the flora was stunted in comparison to Mars and Mckenzie didn’t see any fauna running around.

  Maybe I don’t see any animals because we’re at the spaceport, Mac mused. The Chief returned as an automated open top hovercraft stopped in front of the ramp. The vehicle didn’t differ too much from its ancestors apart from using repulson lifts instead of an air cushion and large fan turbine.

  “Good, our transportation is here,” Chief Alexandra said as she emerged from the Horntail. She held out something for Mac. “Take this breathing unit just in case you need it. The hovercraft is programmed to take us to Hawat’s Haulers.”

  “Thanks,” Mac said, taking the small oxygen tank and mask. She led him down the ramp and they boarded the hovercraft.

  *

  “I’m Souheila Hawat,” the woman said by way of introduction. Like the rest of the people that Mac had seen on Luyten b so far, Souheila was muscular and short, maybe just 152 cm.

  With her dark hair, brown eyes, and olive skin tone, Souheila is attractive, especially if you like muscular women. Though her deep voice would take some getting used to, Mac thought. Looks like the Chief is letting me take the lead again.

  “I’m Mckenzie Edwards,” Mac replied. “And this is Chief Alexandra.”

  They shook hands and he was pleased she didn’t squeeze. I’ve no doubt she could break every bone in my hand if she wanted to.

  Souheila looked him up and down. “You’ve done well so far not to collapse in a heap. The ‘Rock’ isn’t nice to off-worlders. I’ll get you a scooter since I don’t think my insurance will pay if you die while on my property.”

  “Uh… thanks,” Mac said. Souheila nodded and walked towards a shop.

  *

  “This is the Harpy,” Souheila said, gesturing to the Donzi Industries Nina class caravel. The faded red and black painted arrow shaped ship was 25 meters long and 6 meters wide at its widest point, which was the bridge and engineering spaces. The ‘shaft’ of the ship was between 3 and 4 meters wide according to its specs. “We use her as a courier and fast packet for the occasional hop to nearby systems.”

  “So, all the systems work?” Mac asked.

  “Yes, though the reactor needs a flush and the engine and thrusters could use an upgrade,” Souheila answered. She opened the ramp and gestured for them to follow her aboard. “Honestly, the computer system, sensors, and life support all could do with an upgrade as well.”

  “You’ve been using the ship, but her history shows the Harpy is level 1 still,” Mac said, glancing through the file Souheila had shared with them.

  “The Harpy is also supposed to have a Marconi Alarum sensor suite, not the Zen Optics one it has,” the Chief added.

  “Yeah, my father had taken the Harpy back to level 1 years ago and sold off the more valuable modules. That’s why I’m only asking 650000 credits for her,” Souheila explained, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ve got my eye on a small schooner over in the Tau Ceti system and I can get enough of a loan to buy the schooner.”

  “But you cannot afford to pay for upgrades, or any refurbishment work this schooner needs,” Chief Alexandra concluded.

  “Exactly,” Souheila replied. “Selling the Harpy will give me the funds I need to do that while getting her off my books and taxes.”

  “That’s not a bad plan,” Mac commented.

  “Thanks. Anyway, give the Harpy a good once over and we’ll even take her out to the station and back if you want,” Souheila said.

  She must really want to sell this ship, Mac mused. “I think a good once over will suffice, don’t you agree, Chief?”

  “I do,” the Chief replied.

  *

  “Why did you tell Ms. Hawat that you would think about things instead of accepting her offer?” the Chief asked as the Horntail broke Luyten b’s orbit. “She had even offered to sell the Harpy to you for 600000 even. That’s a nice deal.”

  “Yeah, but I’m curious to look at the Merlin in person and I don’t like the Nina class design,” Mac answered. “I’m sure the arrow shape helps when flying in atmosphere, but it just doesn’t sit right with me.”

  “Is that all?”

  “No. There was a lot of rust and crud that would need to be cleaned up, which I expect with any ship that old, but upgrading everything that needed upgrading would probably set me back as much as a Yellowjacket costs, especially if I try to get Marconi sensors for it.”

  “The Merlin might cost you just as much if not more,” the Chief countered.

  “True, but the bird-like shape I’ve seen in old video and pictures appeals to me,” Mac said. “Plus, the Merlin class were supposed to be quicker and more maneuverable.”

  “Fair enough. We’ll reach the Epsilon Indi system in a few hours. You might want to take a nap to recover from your first foray on a heavy world.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Mac said, stifling a yawn. “I’ll do that.”