An engineer kept a ship in working order, seeking out all the little faults and breakdowns that could build up over time and cause a catastrophe out in the void. One really only noticed their work when it failed.

But a good engineer also knew how to sabotage a ship, in subtle, invisible ways that only close examination by an equal could detect. And while Jaquan was no burglar, the helping hands they’d obtained in that dive bar in the Quarter Quarter were.

So it was that the pirate ship’s turn thrusters, heated up well past average use, suddenly came apart. Gaylen didn’t see it with his own eyes. The event was merely a readout on his screens. But the effect was immediate. The ship suddenly started spinning helplessly, moved by the force of the destruction and unable to counter-thrust against it.

Gaylen adjusted his own turn, following the crippled ship but remaining wary of its two functioning batteries. One never knew how a dying animal might lash out. Herdis aimed into the ship’s now-predictable path and fired a shot. It hit, although all the spinning made it impossible to aim for a particular weakness. A bit of debris came off, and Gaylen couldn’t even tell what it was. Herdis aimed and fired again, and got another shower of starship metal out of it.

“Don’t bother,” he said, and pointed at a screen he then enlarged. It showed the ship’s projected path, given current factors. “They’re done.”

“Let’s not leave until it’s a sure thing,” Herdis told him. “I don’t want to see more of these guys in the future.”

“I hear you.”

He gave the Addax a little backwards thrust to slow the ship down to a gentle drift. Then he allowed himself to lean back in his seat and relax a little. It also occurred to him to activate the intercom.

“We can relax, everyone. The deadly blow has been struck. Let’s hear it for our engineer, and his pirate counterpart who clearly wasn’t doing their job.”

From somewhere in the dining room came Bers’s bellowing voice. Gaylen couldn’t quite tell if it was a snippet of the man’s native tongue, or just a generic celebratory noise. He also doubted Kiris was actually clapping down there in the engine room; she was more of a ‘small, approving nod’ kind of woman. But it was Jaquan who kept them flying, and he deserved the credit for it.

“I’m going to hire that man a prostitute at our next one,” Herdis said. “The classiest one I can find. He needs it.”

Gaylen activated the intercom again.

“Herdis says she is going to-”

She slapped him on the arm, and Gaylen gave her a grin. Bers poked his shaggy, ugly head into the cockpit.

“So? Cook?”

“Yes, man,” Gaylen told him. “Whip up something special. Oh, and I suspect you’ll want to watch this.”

The pirate ship’s path ended against a relatively small, but fast-moving asteroid. Combined with their own velocity, it tore them apart.

Bers threw his hands up and yelled again, and this time it was definitely just noise. But a gleeful one.

“And that’s that,” Gaylen said.

He started steering the Addax out of the worst of the asteroid field, to the lane that would bring them to the lane that would bring them back on course.

“Alright, everyone,” he said into the intercom. “We are still on schedule to deliver those boxes. We’re not going to make our best time, but we are going to make the deadline. Everyone did really well.”

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“That sure was a lot of effort for some fruit,” Herdis commented.

“Yeah. Hell of a thing to die for. But it’s not like the galaxy is any poorer for it.”

“Sure isn’t. But do you need me for anything?”

“I want you back on the gun when we make our next exit. Aside from that, no.”

“Then I’m going to grab a nap.”

The woman stood up and left.

“Thanks for the dose of adventure. I wouldn’t want to do this full-time, but it sure adds spice to life.”

“Hey, this one wasn’t even on me,” Gaylen said. “Not even slightly.”

“Well, them getting the chance to catch up with you back on Fernand…” Kiris said from the hatch in the floor. “That was basically on you.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Herdis said in a soft sing-song voice and made herself scarce.

Kiris climbed all the way up, closed the hatch, and stood up.

“Everything good with the engine?” Gaylen asked.

“It’s Jaquan’s job to tell you otherwise, so the answer is yes.”

She stood behind him, a greyish-gold figure reflected in his panels and the cockpit window. He’d been expecting this conversation.

“I get the impression that your little side adventure went well,” the woman went on after a few seconds.

“And how so?” he asked.

“A swell of pride, that you also reflexively try to squash. It’s a conflict I see in you now and then.”

“The boy is alive and free, yes,” Gaylen told her. “At least he was when we parted.”

“Mhm,” she vocalised, in place of something like ‘Good’. He knew she didn’t really care. She didn’t continue to spell out his own emotions, which was generally her allowing him to think about them on his own. He always did appreciate the gesture.

“He’s alive,” Gaylen said slowly. They were clear enough of asteroids for him to risk letting his mind turn inwards, as his hands did the steering by themselves. “Rather than being dead when I could have done something. He won’t be a ghost haunting me, and… I guess that means my future is just a little bit brighter than it otherwise would have been.”

He continued thinking, but didn’t quite know what more to say. The perfect phrasing did not manifest itself.

“I’m glad I did it, Kiris, and I’m not going to apologise for doing what feels right. But I suppose you’re angry.”

“Oh, you know I’m angry,” she replied, although calmly, as she put her hands on his shoulders. “You are at the top of a very short list of people I care about. I don’t like you taking risks by yourself when you don’t have to. As if Bers would have turned down a chance to bust heads.”

Gaylen sighed.

“It was a me thing,” he said. “My bothersome conscience. There was no need to risk the rest of you. And I wanted Bers to look after you. You are also on top of a list, even if it isn’t as exclusive as yours.”

She gently stroked his shoulders. There was a slight tension in the way she did it, but clearly she wasn’t that mad at him.

“I know. But do apply your own reasoning to me. I don’t want you to haunt me when I could have made a difference.”

“Right.”

It was the only reply he could think of, what with lacking any counter at all.

“Well… I want to be a good man. Or at least a decent one. You’ve even tacitly encouraged it, at times.”

“I’ve encouraged you to do what you need to do for your own peace of mind,” Kiris told him. “Remember: I see every detail of your little conflicts.”

“Alright,” Gaylen said. “Alright. We’ll… average out our mutual peace of mind, around my occasional bouts of conscience. How does that sound?”

“Vague, but I think we understand each other.”

“Just tell me the honest truth: Are you still going to be angry by the time we make planetfall?”

Now it was Kiris who sighed with a faint air of defeat. She leaned in and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“No. I probably won’t be.”

“Then sit down,” he said, and indicated the gunnery seat. “We can watch the strands together.”

“Let’s do that.”

She did sit down, and tilted the chair back for maximum comfort.

“Crazy galaxy,” Kiris said after a short while.

“It is.”

Gaylen took them into leap.