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"Christina!" William hollers from above, startling Christina out of her single-minded search.
"Coming," her musical voice reverberating around the small room.
William turns to call again when Christina’s tall slender frame appears in the passageway.
"What do you need?" Christina asks softly, almost inaudibly, fearfully.
"The player isn’t registering on the system, again, I thought you had fixed the blasted thing." William’s voice softens as he notices her cringing at his tone, "Sorry, it just seems to be screwing up more and more often.
"It’s ok, we do need to have it repaired and run through a regular maintenance schedule, though we know we can’t do that," her voice regains its musical overtures.
"Can you fix it?"
"We believe so…"
"Well, hop to it, we need the maps to plot the next jump series."
"-K-," Christina opens a panel at the base of the console and disappears into the access system it covered.
"Boy, I wish she wouldn’t refer to herself as a group. I wonder why she does…" William thinks to himself as he watches her disappear into the machinery.
About three minutes later, William calls down the crawl way, "Christina? Need any help?"
The faint reply returns, "No, we’re fine Will, why don’t you fix dinner?"
"Understood."
William disappears down the corridor. Christina notices that the player connections have all been chewed up, like a rat might cause, she knew this wasn’t the case because rats couldn’t survive in the thin atmosphere. As she replaces the damaged wires, she ponders what could damage wires like that on this ship. She decides to show Will her findings but just as she finishes the last repair, Will calls down about dinner being ready.
"I just pray it isn’t Seinno Soup again," she mutters to herself as she crawls back out of the access system.
"We’re having Seinno Soup tonight," Will proudly proclaims as Christina closes the panel. As she suppresses a grimace, he smiles, "Just kidding, I know how you hate that. We’re having Tangent Line Tortillas. I don’t think you’ve ever had them before…"
"No, we haven’t, but they sound interesting," comes the nonchalant reply.
The two of them head down the corridor to the small galley that serves both as a kitchen and dining room. Only large enough to hold the cooking equipment and a small three person table, Will considered it perfect. Christina sat down at the table, while William took his ‘masterpiece’ off simmer and brought it to the table. He set one of the triangular plates in front of Christina and sat down with the other one. Christina looks at the blue-gray tortilla and pokes at it gingerly with her finger.
"So what do you think?" William asks, oblivious to her actions.
"Umm, well, it looks interesting,"
"You don’t like it, do you?" Christina fails to cover for her loss of words.
"We, uh, don’t know what to do with it"
"Uh, ok, like this," William lifts the larger end of the folded tortilla and bites into it, sending a trickle of red goo down his chin.
Christina nimbly whisks up a napkin off the table and dabs at the goo on William’s chin.
William sets the tortilla down and takes the napkin from Christina saying, "Christina, I’m not a little boy, I don’t need help wiping my face."
Christina starts giggling at William’s comment, causing him to break out laughing as well. The two of them continue their friendly laugh for the next few minutes until they are interrupted by the ship’s alarms. Christina is up and running down the corridor to the control deck, half a second after the alert starts. William, however, cannot react as quickly, nor is he as agile as she so he drops his plate on the ground, sends one of the chairs crashing on its side and then is out of the galley and heading to the bridge. When he arrives, Christina is already at her station and is coding in commands.
William hurries to his console and asks, "Any idea what’s going on?"
"Nope, the sensors and scanners aren’t picking up anything, and all the systems appear to be functioning... Wait! The alarm system itself is showing some inconsistencies within its own grid. That probably caused the alarm to trigger, Will, check the connections in panel three twenty-three dash fourteen beta, would you?"
"Three twenty-three dash fourteen beta, got it, be back in a sec," William dashes out of the room, hesitating only to grab a toolkit.
Christina continues to manipulate her console, watching for other problems.
"I think we have a rat problem," William tosses a chunk of frayed wire toward Christina.
"We can’t, this atmosphere is too thin for rats, remember?" Christina replies, catching the wire without even the merest glance away from her console. "Looks like a rat all right, I wonder what it is? The player connections were damaged this way also."
"I wonder what caused the damage then," William absently tosses a molecular pincer from hand to hand.
"No clue, we’ll have to have a complete scan & purging of the ship, next dock we make. Well, we’re going back down for some rest. See you in the morning," Christina retires from the bridge to her room.
"Well, I guess that leaves me to plot our course," William mumbles as he jabs at the console coding instructions for the course seeker.
"Will, when will we get to De-Larn 4?" Christina asks between bites of the syphoid soup.
"Few hours, why?"
"No real reason, we just took a look at our diminishing number of supplies."
"Do they seem to be dropping faster than normal?" William shakes his spoon slightly at Christina.
"We wouldn’t know, we don’t monitor the food closely enough, probably should though." Christina looks thoughtfully into her bowl of soup.
"Yea, I guess. How much do you think it will cost for the repairs and general maintenance?"
"Oh probably around a hundred thousand, We should look for work there."
"I know, didn’t you want a Scan & Purge also?"
"Yes, we’d better add another twenty thousand to the cost. How much do we have in reserve?" Christina finishes her bowl of soup and takes it into the small kitchen.
"I believe we have about a hundred fifty thousand in reserve, we probably won’t have any after restocking the ship’s food supplies."
"We’re going to prepare the system for arrival," Christina disappears out of the small galley.
The two spend the next couple of hours preparing to dock with the space station, until the computer alerts them the station is in sensor range. They return to the bridge and start sending identification codes, and docking requests. The answer returns directing them to port 824 and provides a course.
"Would you look at the size of that starbase!" William gasps as the ship adjusted course, bringing the space station into full view.
"Yes, that is a rather large station, must be a major traffic hub, we should be careful."
"You’re right of course, I bet that station houses a hundred thousand residents plus it has to have thousands of travelers passing through each day.." William continues to gaze at the enormous station.
"It is home to 243,518 people. It averages 3,710 travelers per day. It has 2000 ports, and is where 8 different species hold diplomatic meetings with each other. On a side note, we are not known by 5 of those species, 2 want us dead, and the last considers us an asset to be protected." Christina brings the statistics up on the main viewer.
"You’re too exact you know that? At least we have a possible ally here, though two enemies aren’t wonderful, could you give me the percents of population?" Will attempt to examine some of the ships immediately around their docking port.
"Just a second, Ah, here we are, Humans 28%, Thrilbian 12%, Clathrans 11%, Torians 11%, Flaeioubians 10%, Lichen 9%, Zionites 9%, Elvish 5%, Other 5%, that what you wanted?"
"Yea, now the Clathrans and the Humans are the ones after us right?"
"Yes, and the Flaeioubians are our possible ally."
"Great, over a quarter of the population would just as soon hand us over to their respective governments. Are you sure you want to dock here?" William’s skeptical look fails to achieve anything.
"Of course, we don’t have much choice anyway. But also the Humans and Clathrans don’t want to get on the bad side of the Flaeioubians, do remember they are still more powerful than our two enemies combined."
"Good point, we’ll just have to run into a Flaeioubian first. Wait, isn’t this a human run space station?"
"Yes and no, the Zionites actually run the station docking and ship id checking. Humans run most of the shops and businesses on the station. It was actually a jointly constructed station of all eight races. The Thrilbians make up most of the security of the station and the Clathrans and Torians deal with the power distribution. We can’t figure out what the Lichen provided, possibly raw materials? Anyway the Elvish are the coordinators and maintainers of communication."
"Ok, ok, I get the picture." William groans infuriatingly.
"Well, you don’t have to be so curt." Christina sulks.
The computer alerts Christina that the space dock now has maneuvering controls to align the ship with the dock. The ship silently adjusts is speed and alignment as the space dock moorings extend to hold the ship firm. The umbilical dock attaches itself to the little ship’s airlock with the silent hiss of pressurizing air. Christina and Will, enter the airlock, cycling the system into the umbilical. They quickly pass through the transparent tube, into the docking facility’s main area. Christina moves quickly over to the registration desk. The young male Zionite at the registration desk gazes transfixed by the approaching Christina.
"Hello, is this where I verify my ship dock?" Christina queries when she reaches the deck.
"Uh, yes, just a sec," the young man blunders horribly as he attempts to regain some of his professionalism. "Ok, please state your name, ship’s name, dock number, and the ship’s registration race."
"Christina Belletrix, The Gandydancer, dock 824, human," Christina examines the young alien intently.
"Ok, give me a sec, and, here you are, your station registration," The young Zionite hands her a freshly printed registration paper.
"Thank you," Christina smiles warmly at the attendant as she disappears back into the crowds.
"Well, the cost is about what we guessed it would be, Will," Christina notes, over a cup of coffee with William. The two of them are sitting in one of the numerous restaurants at the station.
"You called it The Gandydancer?!?" William slaps the document down glaring at Christina.
"So?"
"So! Why in the universe would you choose The Gandydancer?"
"It seemed to fit with our ship. Just drop it, we’ll give it a new name next station, just like always."
"I give up," William stands and disappears out the door.
Christina quietly finishes her coffee and heads off to the temporary employment office. There she finds thousands of job offerings, few of which are worth even looking into. She finds one for a local Flaeioubian, and heads off toward its apartment. Upon reaching it she rings the bell and awaits an answer.
"Hello? How may I help you young la.. Christina!" The Flaeioubian jumps seeing Christina at the door.
"Um, Aluba?" Christina quickly associates the name with the face.
"How have you been, come in, come in," Aluba motions Christina into the apartment.
"I’m fine, how long have you been living here?" Christina politely declines the fried beetles Aluba offers.
"Oh, about half a year now. How are the two of you doing?" Aluba offers Christina a seat in one of the over-stuffed chairs scattered around the room.
"We’re fine, Will has been a bit of a pain at times," Christina glances around the sparsely decorated room.
"Oh, you found another partner have you? What is he?" Aluba smiles furtively.
"He’s human, what else did you expect with a name like William?" Christina suddenly remembers why she’s here, "According to the employment office, you needed someone to work for you?"
"Oh, yes, I need a package delivered to Rygon Prime. I’m willing to pay 500,000 up front and the recipient will pay another 500,000 at the occurrence of successful delivery. Does this sound like something you’re interested in?"
"Yes, how large is the package?"
"About a cubic yard, would you like to see it?" Aluba stands and leads Christina deeper into the apartment into what would normally be a bedroom. A single plastisteel box sits in the middle of the otherwise unfurnished room.
"I can’t move it, Christina," Aluba moves into the room to allow Christina in.
"Can you get it delivered to dock 824?" Christina places her hand on the box delicately.
"Yes, so you’ll take the job?" Aluba smiles enigmatically.
"Sure, We will be ready to depart after the ship gets scanned and purged, and we have the rest of our supplies loaded."
"Ok, you probably want you’re payment in cash, don’t you?" Aluba follows Christina back to the main room.
"Yes, thank you," Christina accepts the money Aluba pulls from her wall-safe.
"Here you should take some fried beetles to take to your friend," Aluba notices the platter it had set down a while ago.
"Ok, thanks, I’m sure he’ll enjoy them." Christina easily hides her wicked grin at the thought of William’s look about eating fried beetles.
Christina returns to the ship to find the scanning and purging around half complete, William is supervising.
"Will, need a break?"
"Yea, you willing to take over?"
"Yes, also, a cubic yard plastisteel crate will be delivered to us sometime today, we’ll be earning one million on successful delivery to Rygon Prime. Oh and we have a snack from a friend of ours for you," Christina gives William the little bag of fried beetles.
"Mmm, fried beetles, how’d you know I liked them?" William pops a beetle into his mouth and crunches happily away.
"Lucky guess, we guess," Christina turns away to avoid letting William see the sickened look on her face.
"Ok, I’m off to wander, keep a good watch on our ship," Christina cringes as she sees William pop another beetle in his mouth before disappearing around a bend.
Christina watches the crew running the scan, as they slowly moved from fore to aft of the ship carefully sterilizing the entire ship. Christina watches them idly, yet without missing any of what they were doing. After an hour of this monotony, the package Aluba wanted delivered arrives at the dock, which Christina signs to prove they received it. While the scan & purge people finish their job and vent the ship, Christina sits on the package, pondering what it might contain that would be worth so much.
A few hours later the autobots of the ship start loading the new cargo onto the ship. Christina stops them before they get the first crate loaded, "Are you sure there is no residual gas in the ship?"
"Affirmative, there is less than point zero zero zero zero zero five microbes per cubic millimeter. Is that acceptable?" The small robot monotonously drones.
"I guess," Christina sighs dejectedly. Obviously her thoughts are on other things.
Christina watches the autobots for the next hour as they load the crates into the ship’s hold. William returns right before the autobots finish and offers Christina a small package. Christina accepts the package as the two of them watch the autobots finish and reload themselves. The two of them alert the space station of their wish to depart and return to the ship. The station calls and clears them for departure in lane 29, and wishes them a safe voyage. Christina confirms the instructions and William waits until the moorings are clear and slowly brings the ship about and drifts toward lane 29. About a hundred feet from the dock, William gives a burst to the engines and they jump forward and away from the dock.
"Any destination?" William glances back at Christina.
"We should probably plot a course for Rygon, we have a shipment to deliver." Christina walks off the control deck, disappearing through the doorway.
William grumbles under his breath as he punches a course into the computer and watches it run through a series of coordinate crosschecks. After about five minutes he notices the computer seems to be confused about a segment of the course. He decides to at least take the ship one jump away from the space station, to avoid causing undue trouble for the station traffic controllers. He aligns the ship for the jump and triggers the jump-engine, pushing the ship into null-space and out again about three point one four one five light-years away from the station. He has the computer, which is still struggling with the one segment, display the troublesome segment on the main screen. Noting the segment passes close to a rather large black hole, helps the computer by plotting an additional two jumps to avoid nearing the event horizon. Christina returns, as he helps the computer plot the last of the course, with two steaming bowls of soup.
"Sissillian Spice Soup," Christina answers William’s unasked question as she sets a bowl on his console, and sits down at her console with the other bowl.
"I wonder what’s different?" William contemplates, as he tastes the exceptionally good soup. He glances over at her console. She is sitting with her long legs folded gracefully under her with one hand on the console, the other precariously balancing her soup bowl, as screens of data flicker across her lightly tanned face. Her mahogany hair, usually pulled back out of the way in a loose braid, falls across her face, casting shadows and giving the impression of a deeply troubled soul.
"Whatever she’s looking for, I hope she finds it soon," William thinks to himself as he turns his attention back to his soup.
Seven hundred thirty-two jumps later, the ship’s navigation system goes on the fritz and refuses to execute the next jump. William is about to manually align for the jump when Christina stirs from her meditations.
"Will? You should run the course through the cross-checker again. It maybe that the navigation system detects something but can’t figure it out," Christina sounds as if she has risen from a deep dream.
"I guess I could do that," William shrugs and adds, "for you..."
William reruns the cross-checker program and it detects a small anomaly in the sector they were about to jump into. Adjusting the coordinates for an adjacent sector, the navigation system immediately switches to a clear setting. Jumping just to the next point, William sets up the scanners he can to identify the anomaly.
"Good thinking Christina," William congratulates Christina, yet oddly she is still in deep meditation.
William scratches his head and slips up beside Christina to activate some scanners besides general navigation scanners. The main screen comes alive as the scan reports start coming back, the anomaly looks like a baby blue cloud of some dense gas. It also emits an abnormally high amount of gantrox radiation, which most likely is why the navigation system canceled the jump sequence. Being no expert in spatial occurrences, he attempts to wake Christina from her meditations. She awakens at William’s slight touch and seems a bit disoriented for a moment before focusing her sharp brown eyes on William’s face.
"What’s the matter?" She seems completely oblivious what is going on around her.
"We almost ran into an anomaly in space, but you stopped me from taking the jump manually."
"We did? We don’t remember."
"I think you were still in meditation, anyway, would you take a look at it? I don’t have much knowledge in the way of spatial anomalies," William points at the baby blue cloud on the screen.
Focusing on the screen, Christina replies, "Nope, that’s a new one. We should probably report it to De-Larn 4, that’s still the closest station right?"
"Nope, we are closer to Sto. Sta. 6 now."
"Do you think a Storage Station could deal with this?" Christina ponders, her gaze shifting from the anomaly on the screen to William and back again.
"Probably not, but they can get it to someone who could much faster than we can. Besides, we should avoid possible contact with anyone who might report our location to unwanted parties..."
"You’re right, the Storage Stations are owned by Flaeioubains aren’t they?"
"Yea, I’ll prepare the ship for the next series of jumps, you send the information we’ve collected so far, ok?"
"Ok," Christina turns from the main screen and starts tapping different keys on her console.
After the data is transmitted successfully the ship quickly makes the next few jumps.
"Christina, we should probably give a real name to our ship, it’s remained nameless sense we acquired it." William starts off the evening conversation.
"We guess, but what would we call it?"
"I don’t know, Wanderer? Galaxian? Gazer’s Sight? Lil’ Hunter? I don’t know."
The room is silent for almost a minute when Christina offers, "How ‘bout Journey’s End?"
"Hmm, I like it, but what journey?" William inspects the green meat, currently getting cold, sitting on his triangle plate.
"We’ll find out when we reach it." Comes the nonchalant reply.
"Hmm, how about Quest’s End?"
"But, Will, we aren’t on any quest."
"Ok, what about the Temporal Abyss?"
"Interesting, we like it." Christina takes her plate to the small kitchen to clean it.
"I’m going to check the jump status." William abandons his plate as he leaves, feeling their discussion over. The jump engine, William discovers is cooling from the previous 22 jumps. Out of sheer boredom, he rechecks the remaining 1259 jumps, making sure the computer has clarified them and estimates at lease another week of travel.
Christina finishes washing her plate and tosses William’s into the water, quickly cleaning it off and stowing it away with her own. She crosses the hall into her quarters, collapsing lightly on the bed, falling quickly into a sound sleep. As William passes Christina’s quarters, he gets a nagging feeling that something is wrong, but continues to his quarters anyway, for some rest.