"We're to meet outside the refinery, which is three levels down and spinward of here," Aiden said as Saul, Belcia, and he stepped out into the dock level at Belltower Station. They had taken a small, Federation style Joma craft that they had synthesised in The Betty's main hold on the way over. The shuttle was a near duplicate of the Joma Herald that they had commandeered back on Flotsam Station.

  "You still think leaving Betty on the edge of the system is wise?" Belcia asked, questioning why she had been brought along instead of remaining with their warship.

  "Should be fine," Saul assured her, "you vetted this group of crew yourself. If anyone from our original crew can be trusted, it would be the men and women who didn't take up arms with Dupahl."

  Saul shuddered, remembering the man. He had hoped the thought and how Saul had shaken the man's faith in him would just fade away. Maybe it was still too fresh in his mind. Either way, he'd had trouble forgetting the man's disappointment in his final moments before Aiden ended his life.

  "Let's just not do anything to our new crew to piss them off, lest Dupahl's ghost haunt us," Aiden said.

  "Spinward, you say?" Saul asked, pointing down a hall ahead of them. Aiden pointed in the opposite direction.

  "Still trying to get my bearings. I haven't spent years grounded on a station like you, Aiden."

  As the three of them start to walk from the Joma's bay, Belcia turned around, tapping her terminal.

  "Something wrong, Belcia?" Saul asked.

  "There's a life sign behind us. It's trying to exit the shuttle," Belcia said.

  Aiden, moving swiftly back to the bay, positioned himself just to the side of the bay's main hatch. The hatch hissed, restarting the compression procedures. Aiden drew his weapon, levelling it at the opening.

  When the hatch finished cycling and the doors opened, Sergeant Hutteno stepped out into the docks. The shock on her face to see Aiden's gun pointed at her face told Saul that she hadn't expected they would have stuck around for so long. She raised her arms.

  "Got me," she said, in bemused defeat.

  "Aiden, hold on," Saul said, sensing the man's tension.

  "What are you doing here, Lisa?" Belcia asked, "how did you stow away without us noticing?"

  "Took advantage of your Captain's stupid repetitiousness in recreating the exact vehicle that he used in his last elicit endeavour," she explained, "you see, it's not the first time I'd seen the original Herald. Before you blew up the last one, I had the pleasure of busting the previous owner for smuggling. So this time around, I knew the best place to smuggle myself."

  "Why are you here, Sergeant?" Saul was unamused. "When last we spoke, I believe I was firm in the fact that you were to remain on Moby."

  "I never agreed to that," Lisa said, dropping her arms.

  "Hold on there," Aiden said, rattling his weapon around to make sure she hadn't forgotten it.

  "Put it away, Aiden," Saul said, "she's here now, nothing more to be done."

  "Want me to tie her up back in the shuttle?" Aiden said.

  "Easy," Belcia said, "that's not necessary."

  "Then what?" Aiden prodded.

  "She'll come with us. And Belcia will be on kindergarten duties," Saul said, looking in her direction, shrugging sorry with his eyes.

  Belcia sighed. "Come on then, child," she directed at Lisa.

  Unamused, Lisa walked up to Belcia and took her arm. Aiden put away his weapon with noticeable disquiet.

  "Are we good?" Saul asked Aiden as Belcia and Lisa walked on ahead.

  "Suppose so," Aiden said reluctantly. "Though, the first sign of treachery and it'll be a club to the back of the head for that one. You have my word."

  "Don't want it," Saul said, brushing off his concerns.

  Three levels down, they reached the refinery, a large section of the station devoted to processing and extracting a wide variety of chemical compounds for use in medicine and other related uses. The place reeked of a potent sulphur smell, having come from the cumulative stockpile of countless species of alien vegetation from which most of the chemicals were synthesised.

  "Why are we meeting Dusk here of all places?" Belcia asked.

  "He didn't say," Aiden said.

  "Dusk?" Having been unconscious during the first dealings, Lisa asked, "who in green earth calls themselves Dusk?"

  "I do," a man said, stepping out from the shadow, "though I'd be remiss if I insisted that was the name my dear mother gave me."

  "Who the hell are you?" Saul asked, pointing out that this man was not the same man that called himself Dusk before.

  "I am Dusk, as I said," the man said, through a thick Herd accent, "don't you remember my sweet face?"

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  Dusk grinned and turned his head first left, then right, letting the crew of The Betty get a full view of him. Thick, greying, black hair waved as he did.

  "Now, to business," Dusk said, dropping his smile.

  "Right. You said medicines needed stealing?" Saul said, brushing off the fact that the man definitely was not the man from before, despite his insistence.

  "Now that's a harsh word, stealing," Dusk scoffed, "I much prefer reprioritizing."

  Lisa coughed.

  "I'll make this brief," Dusk continued, "you know the details, but you've yet to know the target."

  The man swiped something on his terminal, opening a bulletin with the group. Lisa, not having a terminal, leaned over Belcia's. Lisa's eyes widened.

  "You're laughing," she spat, "The Zheng He?"

  "Precisely," Dusk said, his lack of amusement toward Lisa growing, "though, a bird told me that this would not be an issue granted your newfound strength."

  He was obviously referring to the Betty. Saul shot Aiden a glance that Aiden pretended not to notice.

  "I'm not so sure about that," Saul said, moving the deal forward, "what's so special about The Zheng He anyways?"

  "It's one of the few freighter class ships in the Sovereignty that flies outside the Merchant banner," Lisa spoke up, "its domain is firmly within and operated by the military. And as such, boasts a wide arsenal of defensive weaponry."

  "Then why are we trying to procure its cargo? Seems like a lot of risk incurred for us," Saul said, leaving out the part that they themselves still lacked any form of offensive weapons onboard the Betty.

  “This freighter is hauling something I want,” Dusk said, matter-of-fact, not offering anything more.

  “Far as I see it, cap, we either take the job, or we don’t,” Aiden said, “though I don’t expect this fine gentleman tossing us any easier contracts in the future.” Dusk nodded, agreeing with the sentiment.

  “Shoot,” Saul said, “we’ll see what we can do.”

  With that, Dusk turned, picking up a hard hat and placing it succinctly on his head, and walked to fade into the crowd that was currently cycling through a shift-change out of the refinery. Saul wondered if the man was using the outfit as a disguise or if he genuinely worked there.

  Saul shook his head. “Well, there we have it. Our first real job.”

  “You’re forgetting how ridiculous it is,” Belcia said.

  “I really didn’t think you were dumb enough to take it,” Lisa shrugged, “Don’t suppose I could sit this one out, ship me back to the colony, or better yet let me go?”

  “Don’t see the time. Zheng He is due in-system three days from now by the shipping manifest. But, based on how little trust I have in the Sovereignty of late, I’d bet it’s earlier than that,” Saul said, “Best we get to it. Lay in wait, as it were.”

  “And the weapons? Zheng He’s far outmatch our own, little feat that is since we have exactly none,” Belcia said.

  “You’ve a point. I wonder if there are any arms that we might procure here in the Belltower. Aiden, ideas?”

  “Scratching my head on that one too, boss. This place isn’t exactly an armoury. Though we could always use The Betty to just scare ‘em into handing over the cargo.”

  “Betty’s menacing, sure. But what I need are options. I’m not about to act on faith in their own fear of us.”

  “Captain,” Belcia interrupted, “ I’ve been thinking. The Bete Noire’s ports are driven by some kind of rift-based energy projectile. Now, I’m not sure the specifics on what those projectiles may have looked like, nor have I been able to find any references in the system’s records, but I wonder if any object could be sufficiently interfaced with it.”

  “The method in which the projectiles are propelled from the Betty seems to resemble our own rift space projectors, which up until this point, we had only used as a means of travel. But it seems as though they are propelling objects, short-ranged, through riftspace and into the desired target. If I had to guess–”

  “What are you saying then that we could somehow build some sort of sufficiently advanced ballistic that could be loaded into these rift ports?” Saul asked.

  “No. I mean, not in the short time we have until The Zheng He arrives. But what is stopping us from just loading anything in? The ports themselves seem shielded enough. If we were to collect a large quantity of astral rock, we might be able to score a few lucky shots given the right circumstances. Though we would need a clear line of sight, and we’d have to get in close.” Belcia explained.

  “Get in close? That may be a problem.” Saul said.

  “Not exactly,” Aiden interjected, “As far as I can remember of the ancient Quisabar designs, they seem to all have been engineered to withstand direct force far exceeding that of our conventional nuclear ballistics. Betty’s got thick skin, as it were.”

  “So, our plan is that we get in close to The Zheng He, take any hits it sends our way and throw rocks at them?” Saul said, chuckling, “Well, sure as earth was green, that sounds terrible. Let’s get to it.”

  The three-headed back to the shuttle with an evermore displeased Lisa in tow. Weaving in and out of the crowd, Saul began running through the plan in his head. Between weighing the chance of success and how many men he might lose, he nearly missed a bulletin at it pinged on his tablet. He glanced at it.

  His concentration stopped dead with his walking pace. The bulletin was a connection request from Cole, his son. After sending the message several weeks ago, he’d heard nothing. And now…

  “Cole?” he answered, “Cole is that you?”

  “It’s me,” Cole said, his voice making a strange echo as if it were coming from two places at once, “Good to see you, dead man.”

  Saul was ecstatic. “Son, how are you? Where are you?” he said. Saul’s companions had circled back to find him and were now making faces wondering what he was doing.

  “You do know we have a time constraint,” Belcia prodded before being interrupted.

  “I’m not so great,” Cole answered, “mum’s not so great these days, though I don’t imagine that you’d care too much to hear so.”

  “Son, I,” Saul started.

  “Either way, I don’t suppose you have a spare seat on that shuttle of yours?” Cole said, hanging up the call.

  Saul was confused. Shuttle – how did he know about a shuttle? he thought, as a hand landed lightly on his shoulder. Saul turned to see a gaunt, far too tall, young man with black hair shaved down to the scalp and an awkward smile that couldn’t be anyone’s but his son’s.

  Without a word, the two embraced. Saul squeezed hard, only loosening his grip long enough to readjust and constrict harder. Cole wheezed.

  “Nice to see you too, old man,” a seventeen-year-old Cole said, “Doubt you’d expected this.”

  “You’ve caught me pale! Black earth, you had me shaking,” Saul said, a tear pinched from his right eye.

  “How are you here?” Saul asked after his initial amazement waned.

  “You sent enough money to get me full way across the Quarter,” Cole said, “besides having been on Turanda, coming this close has let me leave most of what you sent with mum.”

  “I’m glad. And she’s been treating you well? You look like you’ve seen the ghost of earth itself!”

  “She’s done as best she can with you gone,” Cole said, a veiled resentment bleeding through. “Though manners be damned, I don’t mean to hold you in place with your friends on idle.”

  Cole leaned past Saul, scanning the group.

  “Fine collection of oddities you’ve collected, old man.”

  “Again,” Aiden interjected, “I resent that.”

  “Cole, why are you here?” Saul asked, hoping he knew the answer.

  “Got your message, here to heed the call as it were. So, we’re pirates now?”

  “Mercenaries,” Aiden said.

  “Fugitives,” Belcia corrected.

  “Prisoners,” Lisa yawned.

  Saul thought for a moment. If the past few months had proved anything to himself, it was that none of those labels seemed to fit well enough.

  “Suppose you can call us colonists out to make something of ourselves.”

  “Great,” Cole said, sounding convinced, “where do I sign?”

  “Not so fast,” Belcia said, “this job we’ve got on deck; it’s not what I call low on risk. You sure this is a good idea, captain?”

  “It’s up to the boy,” Saul said. With that, the group of five boarded the Joma and, within the hour, pushed off to head back to The Betty.