For the takeover, I only had flashes of violence. Now I assume there were a lot of men on the ship– all very well trained to be on a ship of this caliber. But that did not seem to make much of a difference from what I remembered. Their enemy was unnatural and attacked in a way that they were not prepared for; they had trained extensively in chess and yet were made to play blackjack. In the dark.

When I came to, I was in the bridge. I had an overwhelming sense of all relief and freshness; I was already sat up in what was most likely the engineer’s chair: there were monitors and readouts all which were a shade of red in one way or the other, and there were terms such as voltage and such, however it was very clear that the essentials were all still functional: the engine, the weapons, the oxygen, and the gravitation synthesizer.

So I looked around; I thought for sure that I must have been dreaming, but as my memories gradually returned, it seemed more and more impossible. It was too real to be fake. The bridge was wide and tall; there were stations all about and at the front of it all an odd figure in the foremost seat that I easily labeled as the captain’s, given the white silver wheel– the helm.

For the lighting, there was the emergency lights which casted everything in a shade of red, like giving it breathing blood, but there was also the light of a white star; we had left the nebula, but since we were only about a hundred miles in to begin with, that didn’t necessarily give me a sense of how much time had passed; the Eustacia had to actually slow down to meet the Kestrel initially, so if it had returned to full speed at any point, it probably would have cleared the entire hundred thousand mile nebula in an hour, so for a hundred miles that may have been mere seconds.

Now the one piloting the ship was obviously that guest, but this situation had gotten somewhat unique in that I can now visibly see– at the very least– her general frame and figure. The color was already difficult to place because of the red lighting tinting everything, but combined with the white star silhouetting her, it impossible to place.

But I could that she was not bipedal, even while she was sitting. Nor was she anything like a squid which I had been somewhat imagining from the previous interaction. It was hard to place what exactly she was. Her figure looked different at every millisecond. Before I could accurately place any string of words to describe her as anything but not bipedal and not a squid or octopus, the interior lights were cut off.

“Fare, there are some things best left unseen. I am one of them.”

“Well, guest, you can’t blame me. You never told me what you were and you– now– obviously actively trying to prevent that. Additionally, you had strangely left the lights up and on until just now, so, maybe don’t do that if you don’t want me to look.”

I attempted to get up since I was full and ready to try and meet her at the helm primarily out of ego since I was at least partially responsible for the takeover of the Eustica, but also simply because I had grown very tired of not speaking to her directly; that is speaking without direct eye contact. There was still light coming in from the bridge windows from that star, after all, so if I got to the front of her I could see her face.

But my legs were bound to the chair I was in. The chair was subsequently bolted to the floor although I doubted that she was responsible for that.

“What gives, guest?” I said out of anger. I had already had enough of the mysterious nonsense and– if she was so insistent on being and alley– very much wanted to simply see her face already. It was the least she could do. I struggled more violently just to make noise and drive in the point.

“You don’t tell me anything important about you, move me around as you please, take all the glory of taking over the ship and then what? Now we continue to be obscured in a kind of darkness while you decide where we go next? Will you– next– tell me what bank’ll be robbed, then the cut, and then will I be made into a kind of crime boss– all well and good– but of course having to continue answering to you– is a grand old ploy, guest?”

“I wouldn’t call it a ploy or control, I would call it me helping you, Fare. You seem very against that for some reason.” Something moved in the darkness, most likely her figure, but it was impossible to tell.

“But, I actually do not know any planets that would be safe to land at. This is a very high crime that has just occurred, companion– Fare. It wouldn’t seem that way to you– you were out of it throughout the most of it so I assume for you, it probably feels like something of an anti-climax– but the reality is that I am behind the wheel of a capital ship, and you are here with me.”

“I guess I’ll get two executions then? If I were taken to court, of course, which is not how life works out here in this jurisdiction, guest.”

I looked down idly as there was some silence after my statement. I noticed that my arms were in slings– that much was visible from the starlight seeping in.

“Guest– guest, what exactly are my injuries? I had only time to guess given the speed at which everything happened, and now that we are at what you can call an impasse, I would like–”

“Give me a planet, Fare.”

“Gymen. Those lands of fetid frost where only beasts– and madmen– roam in a never-ending blizzard. That is salvation from The Army.”

It additionally– and obviously– has a variety of other threats besides The Army, but I had always thought them to be more manageable.

“Hm.”

She gave a meaningless response and so I decided that would use this opportunity to get some more information. She didn’t seem very open to it but I figured that should try my luck anyway.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“You said you had a title. What was it?”

“Title? Oh, Fare, you couldn’t hear it could you? Ah– well I am a pathfinder. That is, I go ahead and mark the ways and routes to places and things– but I had dropped it some time ago, and was all ready to spend the rest of my life in that superfortress, but, well, then you made a very large mess around it that I couldn’t help but get involved in.”

“Pathfinder? For whom?”

“For me, of course! Do you think that I would seriously be employed by anyone? No, no, companion. I made all those maps myself. In fact, I think I am more of a cartographer, really. Although I had left them all behind when I went and haphazardly jumped on your ship. You probably thought that you had gotten hit when I did, but, no, that was just me and nothing else.”

“Alright. Let me create a list of attributes, then. No name. ‘Pathfinder.’ No species. Grand.”

“Well hold on now, Fare. I had told you what I am, but I guess you’ve simply forgotten. I am what you would call a space– ah– a space…” She trailed off.

“Macrocosmic entity? That doesn’t have space in it, guest.”

“Ah– yes. That is… me. How… well that’s all fine.”

Now that was the first time I had seen this guest get even the slightest bit flustered. It was entertaining, I had to admit, and a tool I now had at my belt, it seemed.

While she set the course to Gymen– told from the rapid amount of noise I was hearing from her direction like that of a systems manager who often manages things like this for the captain– I decided that I would push a little further, just to sort of feel the personality of this guest.

“Guest, you are daft, aren’t you? You do not have a name– or maybe I suspect that you simply do not remember it; you do not, either, remember your own species. And, finally, you are a bit of an unemployable little creature devoid of any abilities besides murder.”

There was silence on the bridge.

“So, why don’t I assign you a name, guest. I am already very tired of calling you ‘guest’ since it reminds me of my ship which you have gone and went and gotten destroyed.”

“‘Gone and went and gotten destroyed’? Companion, you decided to crash into this ship. And don’t you call me jobless. It’s… for me it’s sort of different category of meaning, if that makes any sense.” Her voice had went from somewhat irritated– or the approximation of irritation– to low and unsure. And so I had a map of this guest’s personality. I had gotten very quick at reading people given my occupation, of course.

“Just because it means something different to you doesn’t mean it has to mean anything different for me. Now stop distracting me, guest, I am trying to name you…” I trailed off before submitting a very obvious name. “Path.”

“Path?”

Something powering up sort of obfuscated her single word response, but I heard it well enough.

“Yes. Is there a problem, Path? I think it suits you. A path is something that is sort of in the way yet which you have to take. I think that– in a perfect world– there would be no paths, there would be only teleporters which circumvented any chance for something like a serial highwayman, if that makes sense.”

“...You have just decided to name me ‘Path’ and then go ahead to say that ‘in a perfect world’ there would be no paths. Companion– Fare, that is a little– that is somewhat mean, isn’t it? I suggest you apologize. Now.”

“You can say that was a joke. Anyway, Paths are quite useful and get you were you need to go. So, in reality, I am saying that I view you positively, alright, Path?”

A straight hissing noise filled the air.

“Path?”

“It’s alright, Fare. It’s an alright name.”

I wasn’t necessarily convinced, but there wasn’t any time to dwell on anything like that. Path had gone and put the ship at top speed, and the white star I had seen for a day at this point was steadily coming closer, then bypassing us on the starboard, before going out of sight all together, leaving the bridge, now, in complete darkness. I could only see the many stars from the window, none of which close enough to provide light.

“I am in the market for a new ship. Do you think that this one could cut it? I hadn’t really gotten the chance to explore, really. All too much action. And, you know. The leg thing.”

“There was more than physical injuries hampering you, companion. Injuries which I am… eager to investigate at a more appropriate time. I know enough to know that this ship is–”

“Hot. This ship is very, very hot. If we were to go anywhere besides Gymen, we would end up being attack by The Army, any outlaws in the area, the local police, probably– everyone.”

“Only a wasteland that is cold all the time could handle heat of this level, then? Funny, Companion.”

“But it is not a joke.”

“Oh– well why not? You should lighten up.”

“Why are you doing this? You show up, ‘help,’ and then decide that we are now something like a pair. That development is still bothering me. I do not understand it. I do not like it.”

“Companion, it’s very simple. I thought it was implied, really. I am a Pathfinder. I like to find ways around things. And I am not threatened by you and by extension your kind. I go through them simply. I am a Pathfinder, but I have not bothered myself with visiting any planets. I connect systems together. Occasionally they are solar systems… more often they are simply the atoms on a meteor. I don’t very often map out any place that you would go to, really. So, would it be that hard to accept that I am just attempting to build a path– a map– of you? And you work?”

There was a pause as if she expected me to respond, yet I had been so startled by it all that I did not even so much as nod my head.

“You have odd habits, companion. Even observing you for only about a day that was clear. So intend to cartograph your brain.”

Silence again.

“Fare?”

“I see Gymen in the distance. We are… already there. I was so close to making it without incident and saving the Kestrel once more. But, well, Path, that seems to have been not my given hand in this little blackjack of a day. If it even still is the same day. I don’t even know anymore.”

“Ah. So that is Gymen.”