On balance, Cobalt 7 was nothing special. It was a mid-size space station just like thousands of others spread across the known galaxy. A cylindrical central structure that served as a residential habitat and hub for businesses supported its docking ring. Transport pods whisked visitors back and forth between the ring and the central structure. Kalan supposed it made a certain amount of sense as a security measure. Keeping visitors on the ring until they cleared screening meant the station residents faced fewer problems with criminals and smugglers, hypothetically. In practice, crime usually found a way. Kalan never got beyond the docking ring on most space stations. He had few wants and fewer vices. A childhood and adolescence dominated by discipline had morphed into an adulthood marked by the same.
Of course, Cobalt 7 had sentimental value. It was the first place he reached after his homeworld cast him out. He had literally arrived as no one. Without citizenship, he had no identification, no identity really, in the wider galaxy. He’d been granted temporary status as a refugee before eventually earning qualified citizenship from the planet below. He was occasionally amused by the fact that he’d only ever been planetside for that brief, bureaucratic ceremony that officially made him a person from somewhere again. If he was from anywhere, though, it was the station more than the planet. He had friends there, as well as a few people who probably wished he didn’t stop by as often as he did.
Kalan perked up as Em finally brought the ship into the docking ring. The ship settled into a gravity cradle that nudged the ship over to connect with a pressurized docking bay meant for unloading cargo. The ship shuddered slightly as the seal merged ship with station. He waited until Em looked over at him.
“She’s on the line, sir.”
“Put her on the screen.”
A woman’s face appeared on the screen. She had deep lines around her mouth and pronounced crow’s feet around her eyes. There was more gray than blonde in her hair these days. It gave Kalan a little shiver to see Estra slowly losing the battle against time. She gave Kalan a neutral look.
“You’re early, Kalan.”
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“Are you complaining, Estra?”
Estra’s face broke into a wide grin. “You know I’m not. I’ll see you inside.”
Kalan smiled back at her before she broke the connection. “Em, do you mind manning the ship?”
“Of course not, sir.”
Kalan made his way down into the bowels of the ship, stopping only once to strap on the weapons belt that Estra had given him when he bought this ship. It held an archaic sword on one hip and a blaster pistol on the other. He didn’t wear the belt very often, but he made a point on Cobalt 7. Estra liked to see it on him, for one. Plus, while the station wasn’t precisely dangerous, it wasn’t precisely safe for the unwary. It was in an area of space where law and order had a more tenuous hold than some places he’d been. He walked over to the cargo bay controls and checked the external feed. Estra and a few of her workers that Kalan recognized waited outside. He hit the control that lowered the bay door. It swung down and settled on the bay floor.
Estra stepped up on the ship and gave Kalan a brief hug. Then, she inspected her cargo. It was all there and undamaged. She waved at her men to start unloading. While the men directed transport drones, Estra came over to Kalan. She pulled out a small pad and started entering information into it.
“Any trouble?” She asked, never looking up.
“Not that anyone told me about. Just the way I like it.”
“Good,” she said as she tapped a few last keys.
Kalan heard an alert from his own pad and pulled it out for a moment. Estra had paid the balance, as usual. He slipped the pad back into a pocket. He looked up to find Estra studying him. She gave him an approving nod.
“You look like a captain.”
Kalan rolled his eyes. “I look like a buffoon. I mean, honestly, this coat?”
Estra laughed and patted his cheek. “Small sacrifices, my boy. Will you be on station for a while this time? Tessan is getting restless again. I think dinner with you would do him some good.”
Kalan frowned. “I’ll only be here a day or two. I’ve got another run on the books, assuming the cargo arrives on time.”
“You spend more time working than anyone I know. Come by tonight, then.”
Kalan gave her a nod. Estra walked off the ship and started barking orders at her men to pick up the pace. The men dutifully said they would and continued moving the crates off the ship at precisely the same pace. The upper limits of the drones’ speed set the pace, not the workers. He waited until the men finished and closed up the bay. He connected with the bridge.
“Em, we’re all done down here.”
“Yes, sir.”
A few moments later, Kalan felt the ship moving away from the docking bay. It would settle into a slip that took up less room and let any passengers or crew disembark.