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Ivil Antagonist
Chapter Nine - The Held Together

Chapter Nine - The Held Together

Chapter Nine - The Held Together

The Held Together was a relic. It belonged in a museum. The average grandpa would look at it and think 'damn, that's one old ship.'

In essence, it wasn't a plucky new thing, and every sign suggested that it moved with all of the grace of a one-legged geriatric.

The ship had six cargo containers to a side. Nice and simple. Twelve standard containers was a good load. Someone could make a living hauling knick-knacks from Luna to Mars with that kind of space.

Two of the pods had clearly been modified however, and Ivil wasn't sure if the rest were even functional.

The Held Together's cockpit was a wide, flat thing at the front. Real windows. Space for three. Below that, a bristle of manoeuvring thrusters and the ship's reverse thruster, jutting out of the bottom like a cleft chin.

The ship's spine was a thin, narrow space that ran all the way down to it's fat ass.

Back in the day, engines weren't so good. At some point, someone had sold off the Held Together's massive set of original thrusters. They were replaced by something newer. Newer being relative. Ivil would bet on the current set being pre-third intersystem war. Still, newer meant smaller, and now the Held Together had three engines sitting inside cowling meant for much larger thrusters.

It didn't give her the impression that the Held Together could move any faster than the average tug.

The ship was covered in a slathering of yellow paint. Ivil recognized it. It was the cheapest paint available in Earth orbit. The kind of almost fluorescent stuff they sprayed onto tugs and barges and deep space mining rigs. It caught the eye; in a bad way.

A few panels along the ship's side weren't the same colour, others had had their paint scoured off by thruster burns or micro-meteorite impacts.

Ivil could survive in empty space without a ship. She could probably swim her way back to the nearest outpost or planet, if need be. It was the only thing that kept her walking towards the Held Together, the reassurance that even when the rusty old thing failed, she at least, wouldn't die.

The Held Together was docked from the rear by a large cargo-airlock, the sort big enough for someone to drive a forklift right through it. That meant that the hold was open to anyone. Ivil paused not too far from it and scooped out one of the tablets from her bags. She scanned through it. There was enough information there, at a glance, for her to build a convincing cover story. She memorised it with a sweep, then nodded to herself before walking around the final corner and towards the ship.

Surprisingly, the crew hadn't abandoned the ship while they could. Or at least, one of them didn't.

There was a young woman sitting on a high stool next to a workbench. A small device was taken apart in front of her. She had tools, all connected by small wires to the workbench, splayed out around her.

She jumped when Ivil took a step onto the airlock between the ship and hold.

Turning, the girl blinked at Ivil, then looked past her then back. She raised a grease-covered hand. "Hi?"

"Hello," Ivil said. "Is this the Held Together?" A small part of her wished that it wasn't.

The girl smiled. No, not a girl. She was maybe ten years Ivil's junior. Her dimpled cheeks and tiny stature made her seem younger, but she was an adult by anyone's standards. "This is, and she is!"

"Pardon?"

"Uh... I mean... this is the Held Together. And she is. As in... as in she's held together, you know? Because she's not... broken? Mostly?"

Ivil nodded slowly. "I heard you were going to Calisto." That's what their flightplan said, in any case. "Are you taking on passengers?"

"Oh!" The girl jumped off her seat, almost bouncing too high so that her head was nearly bashed against some loose cargo held by a net in the ceiling. "We love passengers. I mean, I love passengers. Did you arrange things with the captain yet?"

"I haven't," Ivil said. "I just need passage to Calisto, for cheap."

That would have to do for a cover story. Someone travelling cheaply. Anyone with any amount of money and a lick of sense would take any other ship to get to Jupiter.

"Cheap we can do!" the girl said. "Is that all of your stuff?"

"I packed light," Ivil said.

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"Nice! Alright! Come with me! I can give you a bit of a tour while we're at it... oh, wait, no, I can't." the girl froze up as realisation dawned.

"You can't?" Ivil asked.

"We have another passenger coming. I'm supposed to help her." The girl shook her head. "The captain will be real cross with me if I don't stay here. Wait, wait, I'll call Missy over. She can give you the big tour. But you'll have to ask me to give you one too, she doesn't appreciate this old gal the way I do."

"That seems fine," Ivil said. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Oh? I'm Twenty-Six."

"I was asking for your name, not your age."

The girl blinked, then laughed with a snort. "No! No no, my name's Twenty-Six. I'm a Ringer. That's not my age. Well, not yet. Gimme a year!"

"Oh, I see," Ivil said.

"What's your name, miss?" Twenty-Six asked as she bounced her way to the back of the hold towards an intercom mounted to the wall. "I forgot to ask, sorry. Are you from Hellas?"

"I'm a professor from there, yes," Ivil said. "My name is Evelyn Ville."

"Cool! I'll go and get Missy, she'll help."

"Missy?"

"The first mate," Twenty-Six explained. She thumbed the intercom and there was a crackle as it came on. "Missy, can you come to the hangar please? We have a new passenger! Thank you!"

The intercom squealed a moment later, and someone spoke through it with a complete lack of passion. "On my way."

"Thank you," Ivil said to Twenty-Six.

The young woman gave Ivil a thumb's up. "No problem! It'll be nice having more people onboard. The Held Together can be a little quiet sometimes. Just, uh, the captain means well. Set boundaries and she'll be fine. Oh, and... if there's a problem with your room, let me know. I'm the ship's mechanic. It's a full time job, but I try to do what I can to help."

"That's kind of you," Ivil said.

Twenty-Six nodded along. "Sure thing. So, Hellas University? That's so cool. I wish I went to a school like that."

"Where do you go to school for your education as a mechanic?" Ivil asked.

"Huh? Uh, I just picked things up here and there," Twenty-Six said.

"Are you certified?"

The girl froze up, eyes going wide for a moment and her smile turning plastic. "W-what? Yeah, of course I am! Hah!"

She was not.

"Of course," Ivil agreed. She wondered if it would be possible to have a team of Martian mechanics sneakily look over the ship before they left the dock. Just in case.

She'd take a look at things herself. She wasn't a mechanic, but she could tell when something was on its last legs.

The door at the back of the hangar groaned open and a woman walked into the room. She was of a height with Ivil herself, dark hair and an all-black spacesuit. Ivil stood a little taller as she took the woman in.

This was a core-holder. No more than a D-Classer, but her cores felt well and properly integrated. More interesting still, the woman immediately reminded Ivil of a Lunatic Warclown. She didn't have the faceless mask, or the red nose. In fact, she lacked any colour. Her skin was an almost sickly pale only accentuated by dark eyeliner and lipstick. Not a clown, then. A Warmime?

That was an uncommon sight.

The woman locked eyes with Ivil, then sighed. "You're the passenger?" she asked.

"Missy! Be nice," Twenty-Six said. "Miss, ah, Ville, this is Missy, the first mate."

"Hello," Ivil said. "A pleasure."

"Mhm," Missy said. "You got cash?"

Ivil chuckled. "I have enough," she said. "Assuming you accept transfers from the First Bank of Mars?"

Missy seemed to consider that for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah. We can do that. They charge fees out the ass."

"Missy," Twenty-Six hissed.

"It's fine Two-Six," Missy said. "So, you need a ride to Jupiter?"

"Calisto," Ivil said. "I think you're headed that way?"

"That's where we're chartered to go," Missy said. "But there ain't much that way. What's a fancy sort like you want with Calisto?"

"I'm an astro archeologist," Ivil said. "I'm going there for some scholarly pursuits."

"Huh," Missy said. She didn't seem to trust that entirely, but she shrugged a shoulder languidly and turned back into the ship. "Follow me, fancy, let me show you to your bunk."

"Don't give her one of the leaky rooms!" Twenty-Six called back as Ivil followed Missy.

This was an auspicious start, Ivil thought.

***