The Addax drifted through the Other. Before Gaylen’s eyes danced strands of light, stretching on into a black infinity. Even after all these years of flying they still had the power to fascinate him, and he usually left the cockpit window exposed.

There was a hypnotic quality to the display, and more than one religion insisted that there was great truth to be glimpsed in it. And more than one old spacer insisted that vanished ships weren’t simply taken by pirates or victims of course failure. They were lost in the Other for all time.

Gaylen honestly could stare at it for hours, but reminded himself that he wasn’t alone in the room.

“What do you think?” he asked his gunner, disrupting his own near-trance.

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen it for myself,” Herdis said.

He didn’t turn his head to look at her face, but there was a certain amount of wonder in her voice.

“Oh, really?”

“I’ve only ever flown commercial, as I told you back there.”

“I have been on commercial ships that have little viewing platforms,” he said.

“I haven’t,” she said. “And... well, of course I’ve seen footage. But... it doesn’t quite capture it, does it?”

“No,” he said. “No, it really doesn’t.”

“I’m glad I was given that gunnery course.”

Gaylen smiled.

The lights went on and on and on. His instruments showed nothing; no solid matter and no heat signatures. Only the course he’d let the computer calculate before leaping and the degree to which the ship occasionally drifted away from it. Gaylen did what he was here to do and made minute adjustments. Little really did mean a lot in the Other.

The lights began taking on a faint pinkish colour.

“Is that the Korokis Effect?” Herdis asked.

“The earliest stages. But don’t worry,” he told her and glanced at the course metre. “We’re almost there.”

He fired up the systems that would help ease them into realspace, then let readouts and experience tell him when to begin the slowdown. Even the best of ships could only handle half-speed for so long, and the Addax was just a decent ship.

They reached a velocity that let them detect planets, asteroids, ships and anything else that might be in the way, and Gaylen put his hand on the stopper.

“Exiting leap,” he said over the intercom.

He pulled the stopper down with a click and the lights vanished in a sudden flash, replaced by plain old stars.

“Do you need me for anything?” Herdis asked.

Gaylen looked at the sensor readouts. There were no signatures of any kind.

“No, you go on. Although before our next leap I want you to take a few actual shots with the cannon.”

“As you say. I already unpacked, but I’m going to see about getting to know the others a little bit.”

She left, and Gaylen went through all the usual checks, then opened a line to the engine room.

“How are we doing?”

“We are doing just fine,” Jaquan said. “There is SOME heat buildup of course. Some of these parts are original. But I’d be confident in making another leap right now.”

“There’s no rush,” Gaylen told him.

“I know. Just saying.”

It was generally considered wise to go easy on an engine one wasn’t familiar with. And Lanson’s deadline was still twenty-three days in the future. There was no need for a dash.

Once he was satisfied with the readouts he set an alarm to blare in case of a heat signature, then got up and left the ship to drift.

“Why are so many cultures squeamish about this?” Herdis asked with no small amount of exasperation.

She was sitting at the table, as were Ayna and Kiris, and Jaquan was coming up one of the hatches above the engine room. With no more fancy drink on board they were simply enjoying water, and a snack bag someone had brought.

“Well, it’s just... unusual,” Ayna replied.

“It’s unusual on your world.”

“What is?” Gaylen asked.

“As I was explaining,” Herdis said, “I have three husbands and two wives. And yes, they’re all married to each other as well. It is called a ‘full family’. And we have four children.”

“Wow. No wonder you’re running off,” the young Dwyyk commented with a grin.

“Funny,” Herdis said flatly, but with a smile.

Gaylen got a glass of water for himself and sat down. He was quite thirsty, and the water filtration system had been one of the first things Jaquan had gone over, so he drank greedily.

Jaquan went straight for the row of chairs, then for the table. He put the chair down and then sat with a bit of stiffness.

“Still on the old one?” Kiris said to him, noticing his movements.

“Yes,” he told her. He tapped his knee. “I’ve had other things to spend money on.”

“Old what?” Ayna asked.

“Leg,” Jaquan replied, and pulled the leg of his suit up enough to reveal the dull grey of a baseline mechanical limb.

“I lost the first one a while back,” he said. “The replacement does well enough.”

“The basic ones don’t have sensation, do they?” Ayna asked.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“No.”

Jaquan banged his metal shin against the metal table, then, as Gaylen had expected, shifted the topic.

“Really though,” he said to Herdis. “Why are you out here?”

It wasn’t typical of him to engage with strangers like this, but he was oddly sensitive about the leg.

“I am on my... I don’t know a word for it in Larin. We call it kouru.”

“I have heard of that...” Jaquan said and looked like he was searching his memory.

“It is a... traditional time of getting away from it all, from the household, for a period. Some just go and stay in cheap apartments by themselves for a while. Others travel our world. And then of course there’s going off-planet.”

“Can I have some of this?” Gaylen asked and indicated the snack bag, looking for the owner.

“Sure,” Ayna said. “I brought it to share.”

He didn’t recognise the brand, but the little sticks inside were salty and crunchy and quite nice.

“What about you folks?” Herdis asked. “I mean...”

She pointed at Ayna and Kiris, with a slightly awkward air.

“I can see where your genetics come from, but...”

“Oh, I was raised on Dwyyk,” Ayna said. “Got the blood, the culture, AND the nightmares.”

“I feel I see a disproportionate amount of your people on the lanes,” Gaylen commented. “Given your population.”

“Have you ever been to Dwyyk?” Ayna asked with a grin.

“I have not.”

“I know, I know. Something would have eaten you. Starting with your loud, stomping feet.”

The people of Dwyyk, Gaylen had found, carried an equal amount of pride and hatred for their homeworld.

“And I’m actually from the Kingdom,” Kiris said neutrally, before anyone could turn the question directly on her. “Born and raised.”

She’d removed all of her head coverings, which Gaylen had noticed she rarely did outside of fairly private situations like this. The golden woman really was astonishingly beautiful, but then every single man and woman of the Chanei was. For the worst of reasons.

“As for why I drift...”

She shrugged.

“Eh, well, there are few places I can stay for long without getting bothered. And I suppose new sights are interesting.”

“I understand there is a community of your people,” Herdis said, with the air of one vary of their own words. “On... where was it...”

“There is, yes,” Kiris said. “I’ve been there, but... oh, I’m fine with just going from place to place for a while.”

Gaylen finished a second one of those sticks, then cleared his throat.

“Myself, I’m from the Federation. Mostly from Kukma, I suppose, but we did move around a lot when I was a kid.”

“Is that why you’re still wandering?” Herdis asked.

“No.”

He forced forth a smile.

“I just can’t go back. I got into some trouble in adolescence. Picked the wrong friends. They messed up, and I was made to share the blame. So I hit the lanes, and found I could handle myself there.”

No-one asked for details. Jaquan already knew and perhaps Kiris did as well; he’d never felt much like asking her. And the other two sensed that it wasn’t a welcome subject.

Ayna turned to Jaquan.

“What abo-”

They all turned at the sound of loud feet coming up the stairs. Bers arrived, and made his way directly to the cockpit door. In his hand was a jar. The man jabbed a little stick into it and began drawing a symbol above the door in some red liquid.

“Bers,” Gaylen said. “Fellow. What... are you doing?”

“Protection!” the fringer said. “Told you, dagi: Bad gulu out there!”

“And you’re... protecting us?”

“Iv.”

“Are those for... luck?”

“For wari.”

“Gulu?” Herdis asked under her breath.

“Spirits,” Kiris told her. “Or demons or something.”

“Right.”

Oh, those outer edge people.

“Where did you say you were from?” Gaylen said, hoping for something more regular from the man.

“Gana-Ko-Mua, dagi. Now, no more talk.”

The man focused on his task, drawing intricate, concentric patterns. Those at the table used various expressions and body movements to do a collective shrug of sorts.

“What about you?” Ayna said to Jaquan.

The man hesitated, as he tended to do when strangers engaged him. Although Gaylen felt he was making gradual progress.

“I’m from Xangan.”

“That mausoleum world?” Herdis asked.

“No, that’s Xangigo. I’m from Xangan, in the White Sector.”

“Ah,” Ayna went. “It’s well known for engineers.”

“Yes, but that’s the problem,” he replied. “There are so many engineers. Plenty of people around to tear apart old ships to keep slightly newer ones running. Employers can set salaries as low as they please. That’s why so many of us go off-world. That’s how I met Gaylen here.”

“Alright,” Ayna said. “That’s all of us established. Far-flung and varied folks, three boys and three girls. Was that on purpose, Gaylen?”

She grinned. She really did that a lot.

“I hired you folks because you answered the call,” he told her. “Although varied viewpoints are of course a boon to any endeavour.”

“I’m joking,” the girl said. “I usually am. But I like this. This kind of outfit.”

She gracefully swung her feet up on the table.

“I like meeting new kinds of people.”

“Gathering wisdom for the grave?” Kiris said with a ghost of a smile.

“I’ve met cultures who do actually embrace that as an ideal,” Gaylen told everyone. “A well-travelled, experienced and wise person is said to ‘fill their grave’ upon death.”

“Well, I’ll settle for a bit of money for now,” the girl said. “And a bit of fun.”

“I can promise you the one. And probably the other as well. Look... as you all know...”

He glanced at Bers, who was still engrossed in his task.

“All of you... me and Jaquan are starting up a lasting freelancer ship. I’ve hired you to accompany us on a single delivery, and if you want to get off at the destination, that’s fine. You can hop onto another ship. Trust me, there’ll be plenty on hand. But if you prove yourselves valuable I am willing to hire you on a more lasting basis. I just don’t want to commit to anything with an untested crew.”

“I’m not untested...” Kiris muttered and looked away.

“That all sounds fine,” Herdis said. “But just what kind of freelancer are you setting out to be? Because I have little interest in getting arrested.”

“Well, me neither, but...” Ayna said, and grinned yet again.

“Herdis, I am doing this in large part because I’ve had my fill of trouble,” he told her. “There are plenty of ways to earn a living with a ship that don’t involve theft, or running weapons or slaves.”

“Not even getting into the fact that not a lot of arrests take place on the outer lanes,” Kiris added. “Excepting bounty hunters, of course.”

“We can ferry passengers or goods, look for salvage, deliver messages...”

“Universities pay good money for good artefacts,” Jaquan interjected.

“Exactly,” Gaylen said. “And no more getting shot at.”

“Alright,” Herdis said, looking satisfied. “This is all a temporary thing for me, but I might be willing to spend my entire kouru on board. We’ll see.”

“Yes. We’ll see.”

“But now that we’re out and away...” Kiris said and ate one of the snack sticks. “Gaylen. At what point will you stop worrying about one of us tipping your enemies off at a stop, and tell us where we’re heading?”

There was a bit of a challenge in her bearing.

Gaylen took a breath.

“We are going to make a few more leaps,” Gaylen told her. “We’ll make two stops at minor charging stations, avoiding the bigger ones, and then we’ll be in the Nearer Fringe. Then I’ll look into sharing more.”

“Alright.” Kiris went on. “But how long until the Fringe?”