"It ain't much, but it's honest work" aka "The freelancer's woes"

[Demonic]

Finnean MacRory
On board of Ol'Reliable
10/14/833

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Finnean aligned his ship with the trade lane and started the docking sequence. NavComputer took over and soon, Ol’Reliable was sliding through the lane towards New London. He turned in his chair and looked at the woman manning the gun and scanner console. He wasn’t sure where Lachlan found her, but she was way better at handling the turrets than the ship’s computer. She wasn’t firing them directly of course, no human can aim and fire multiple turrets at the same time, especially when handling multiple targets, but she had an unnatural knack for refining the tracking data and algorithms on the fly, greatly improving the gun’s accuracy. She eventually noticed his look and smiled at him.

“So, shore leave after all?” She asked. “Aren’t you afraid your crew will disappear the moment Ol’Reliable docks?”

Finn chuckled. “No, I’m not Sheena. They are free spirits, as much as you or me. They jumped at the opportunity to fly on this ship and get out of their boring dirtside jobs. Why would they leave? And if they do leave, so what? They are free to go and they’re no snitches, my brother made sure to filter any potential troublemakers out.”

“You always have an answer ready, right boss?” Sheena grinned.

“Sure have lass, sure have.” He turned back to his console and studied the readouts for a short bit, then looked at Sheena again. “Listen, you mind keeping watch on things until we get to the planet? It should be a smooth ride for a few hours and I need to do a bit of housekeeping.”

“No problem, boss,” she nodded, “just make sure you’re the one who wins, not the paperwork.”

Finnean returned the nod, locked his console and walked out of the bridge. He went past the mess hall, through a few corridors and into his cabin. It was a plain room with a bunk, small closet for clothes and desk with a chair and computer terminal. Toilet and shower were tucked away in an even smaller room behind sliding doors. His cabin was void of any decoration, save for a few old memorabilia hanging on the bulkhead. Lachlan once asked Finn why he chose a room so small, when he lived on a ship originally meant for a few dozen crewmembers. It was a good question and it took Finn a long time before he realized the true answer. In the end, it was simple. He was used to it, liked it even. Guess the years spent in a small shuttle cockpit have left their mark.

He brushed the thought aside, sat in the chair and turned on the terminal. He quickly scanned the news, but nothing caught his eye. There were some reports about a skirmish in Dublin, but that was old news. Ever since corsairs decided to squat there, skirmishes between Mollys and Corsairs were pretty much a daily occurrence. There was nothing interesting in his regular message account either, but one of the encrypted channels showed activity. Finn opened it, read through the message and let out a sharp whistle.

“Should’ve guessed Wilson will go big.” he thought. “12 000 gallons of H-fuel, 6 000 units of construction materials and shipment of sake?” Finn mused at the numbers for a while. It was certainly doable, and it should be a reasonably safe job, but those amounts meant at least six separate shipments if not more. Then again, their whole job was about ferrying stuff from one place to another. What does it matter if they make a few back ’n forths? Finn nodded to himself, opened his favorite commodity broker site and started crunching numbers.

Intercom buzzed about an hour and a half later. Finn raised eyes from his screen and pushed the button on the wall.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Coming up on New London boss.” said Sheena’s voice from the hidden reproductor.

Finn quickly checked the time. “Already? But that would mean…”

“Yep, no lane interruptions at all.”

“Huh. Weird. Ok, I’ll be there in a few. Try not to insult any navy officer in the meantime.”

“No promises boss.” Sheena laughed and ended the call.

Finn quickly saved his incomplete message for Wilson and headed to the bridge.

“So, how’s it looking?” he asked as he entered the room.

“Navies are all hot and bothered, boss, seems like some corsair group snuck through to Dublin again,” Sheena said. “But they let us go after a quick scan.”

“How very nice of them. Right, do we have a number?”

“Sure have, we’re five in the docking queue.”

“Perfect. Tell Colin and Max to make sure we are topped up on everything. We’ll probably be out of Bretonia for a while when this visit is over and I hate refilling on foreign stations. The foreign nanites never work as well as the ones from around here.”

Sheena rolled her eyes. “Alright, I will. But you know it’s just your superstition, right? The nanites are the same, it doesn't matter if we pick them up in Bretonia, Kusari or some border world freeport.”

Finn opened his mouth to reply, but Sheena grinned and shooed him away with a joking gesture.

“Oh, shush, I don’t need an hour long lecture about the tiny differences in bretonian manufacturing. Don’t you have somewhere to be? I believe you mentioned you have a visit to make?”

Finn laughed. “You’re a handful, Sheena, have I ever told you that?”

“Only every other day so far. Now go, I’ll take care of the girl while you’re drinking your brother under the table.”

He had no answer to that so he just shrugged. “Fine, fine, I’m going. I’ll be back in a few days. And don’t you stay on the ship for the whole time, you deserve some R’nR as much as anyone else on this ship.”

Sheena just smiled and shooed him away again. Finn finally capitulated. He briefly checked the ship’s status and then left the bridge. He packed a few things, mostly clothes, and went to the airlock. By the time he got there, Ol’Reliable was safely docked, so he wasted no time and headed for the passenger terminal. Lachlan wasn’t expecting him for at least a few more hours, so he could probably pay a quick visit to their mother before he goes to see his brother.

He considered his options and finally decided to make the visit. He wouldn’t hear the end of it if Fiona found out her son was on planet, had time to spare, and did not at least stop by to say hello.