The wind howled across the concrete landing pad and shook the nearby treeline. Blaze tried to stride through it, but as it picked up in intensity, his gait got closer to a stagger. The gale's hands pulled at his hair and jacket, and Rsh's mane and coat. The dun hair streamed out from his bulky body just a few feet ahead of Blaze. The floodlights swayed as the winds batted at their poles, making the shadows from the ship seem like something alive and sinister, scurrying away from the light. The concrete underfoot was firmly rooted to the land, but … everything else, even the starship, felt like it was one stiff wind from being scooped up and hurled into the distance. Crumpled papers shot through the air, then scraped along the ground with the dry scratch of bony fingers. The scraping could barely be heard over the wind, which made it even creepier. Like a lurking insect that you can't see.
They reached the ship. It was turned away from the starport; they walked toward its upswept rear fuselage.
A half-dozen twelve-foot-long heavy-duty plastic cases sat on the pad. Blaze stopped to inspect them. The wind continued to toy with his hair. Rsh, meanwhile, continued around the side of the ship. Probably headed for the intrapanel on its forward landing leg, inside a ruggedized container. Blaze was in the middle of reading the labels when the cargo ramp's hydraulic pistons howled louder than the wind. The ramp parted from the fuselage's upswept rear and rotated down until its leading edge banged on the concrete. Then, the only howl remaining was the wind.
'X-Tensive,' Blaze thought as he studied the logo. Sounds familiar …
Rsh rejoined him, grabbed one of the crates, and slung it over his shoulder. Despite the weight, he carried it easily. Blaze followed him into the cargo bay. Its bright overhead lights gleamed off the steel ribs reinforcing the fuselage and the deck overhead. Shielded by the ship, Blaze could at last speak freely without being afraid he'd get drowned out.
"Is this the 'bargain' you went to go see about?" Blaze asked.
"Yes."
Rsh set the first crate down inside the bay, then turned back to fetch the next. The world beyond the opening was a giant dim navy-gray square compared to the well-lit starship. Whatever problems our ship might have, he thought, the lighting isn't one of them.
Blaze went to the bulkhead at the cargo bay's fore and stepped up to the intrapanel beside the pressurized door. Croshaw had a ViaDUCT node in orbit, so the starship could connect to the starnet. He opened the browser. Its window took over the touchscreen. It was small and awkward, but technically any of the OS subsystems could be accessed from any intrapanel on the ship, if you knew your way around — and had proper passcodes for the critical stuff.
As an expert computer programmer, Rsh often ran scripts to hunt for bargains on the starnet.
That was not a skill Blaze had, but he did know how to check the encyclopedia.
> X-Tensive was a hostile habitat manufacturer founded by entrepreneur Rashton Thrush. Its name alludes to both the 'extensive' durability and range of their products, as well as forming a pun on 'tents', referring to the products' resemblance to camping tents.[1]
>
> In order to lower costs, the company constructed the habitats out of carbon strips woven together in a manner resembling wicker. The company's starnet site treated this as a selling point, calling attention to wicker as 'the oldest human furniture-making technique — and still the best'. It went on to state that their 'wicker' was no different from carbon fiber, just with less 'wasted material' due to the strips being spaced out.[2] Although this was criticized for reducing tensile strength,[3][4][5][6][7] Thrush dismissed the criticism by alleging his competitors artificially inflated their prices under the guise of sturdier materials.[8] The wicker frame supported the pressurized inner habitat, made of polymer fabric, intended to support life.[2] Contrary to popular belief, at no point did the company believe the wicker itself was airtight.[CITATION NEEDED]
>
> X-Tensive marketed itself as an innovator, delivering its self-styled 'cutting-edge' products to smaller companies, private planet owners, and independent mercenary operators.[5] In advertisements, it played up its underdog status to promote itself as the anti-establishment alternative to its competitors, whom it accused of undermining public confidence in its products and the free market in general. Critics of the company pointed out that by focusing exclusively on clients who worked out on the frontier in privately-owned systems, they avoided regulation from consumer protection agencies.[3][7]
>
> Despite the company's anti-establishment messaging, they had a reputation for poor quality among some of their target demographics. "Even on cuckoo starnet forums where people sing the praises of brain fortification powder to block signals from the Data Overmind hanging out inside Sagittarius A* and doomsday preppers feverishly searching for the one planet that'll escape the galaxy's collapse into a singularity (any day now, guys!), people wanted nothing to do with X-Tensive. 'Great marketing, crappy products,' was the most commonly posted sentiment, followed closely by 'I knew some people who bought their stuff, and I haven't heard from them since.' What an age we live in, when the galaxy's crackpots are giving sound financial advice."[5]
>
> If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
>
> Although X-Tensive initially did not construct hostile habitats with wood, as traditional wicker techniques did, eventually Thrush began to experiment with wooden wicker on 'less hostile' worlds.[3][9] Despite concerns from investors,[6] Thrush funneled large amounts of company resources into wood-based hostile habitats, believing it was the key to both innovation and affordability.[3][7] Thrush's faith in wooden wicker was so great he personally designed and developed an experimental space station module, the Starweaver, in his bid to revolutionize life in space.[9] Even in the face of widespread criticism that a wicker frame couldn't handle the stress of the pressurized internal chamber after inflation,[4][7][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][16][17][18] he pushed ahead with R&D.[7]
>
> "A pioneer's job is to go where nobody has gone," he said. "Taking risks is just part of the package. And with X-Tensive, you know our products are reliable, because we've been out there before you."[19]
>
> Tragically,[CITATION NEEDED] the module's wicker framework broke up during testing, ripping the airtight fabric apart and killing Thrush and all his guests.[11][16] The company shuttered its doors shortly afterwards.[3][12] In the aftermath of the accident, it was revealed via leaked internal documents the wicker frames were being constructed by hand on Buelbubb, using local labor. The factory had no machines whatsoever — all of the carbon strips were manually threaded together by untrained Buelbubbean workers. Standardization and quality control were nonexistent.[20]
>
> In the wake of this new information, the value of the X-Tensive products circulating on the secondhand market plummeted to practically nothing.[18]
Behind Blaze, Rsh set the last crate down and dusted his hands off.
"Hey, Rsh?"
Blaze turned around halfway. His eyes went to his friend while his finger went to the intrapanel, and the article on its screen. Despite his attempts to keep his tone steady, when he spoke a note of worry made its pitch rise up.
"It says here the guy who made these died because he tried to make a wicker spaceship …?"
"These are carbon. They will be of acceptable quality … for our budget."
"Okay, but, uh—"
"Despite my warnings … you continue to fraternize with … the scum of the galaxy. Attempting to impress these violent, cruel murderers. To prove yourself a 'bad-ass' … who lives a 'life of adventure'."
Rsh's words were blunt and forceful. Like they were grabbing Blaze's words, shoving them against the wall, and shaking them down. That sinister, predatory, mocking tone seeped into his voice. He planted his heavy foot atop the nearest X-Tensive container and leaned hard on it, his arm laid over his knee.
"Is this danger not … adventurous?"
"Dying when a hostile habitat fails isn't what I had in mind, as far as adventure goes."
Rsh leaned farther, his golden eyes drilling into Blaze. "Is it not exciting … to deviate from expectations?"
"Not always."
"Are you scared?"
Those three words struck Blaze like a lightning bolt. He felt a rebellious shock surge through him, compel him to stand up straighter and square his shoulders. Although he did not quite meet Rsh's intense staring, it was not because Blaze was scared. No, he stared off to the side to show Rsh how non-concerned he was about all this. He rolled his shoulders around a few times, adjusted his jacket with a sharp tug, ran his thumb along his forehead to straighten his hair.
Simply, he said, "Course not—"
"Excellent!" Rsh declared.
He stood up and planted both feet on the floor with a booming thud, then headed for the ramp that led out of the cargo bay.
"Close the cargo ramp," Rsh called as he stepped off of it. "And meet me on the flight deck."
As Blaze tapped away at the intrapanel, he was left alone with Rsh's words. Which, come to think of it, was probably why Rsh chose to enter the ship alone via the forward landing leg rather than just use the door.
Crafty bastard, he thought.
Again, the hydraulic pistons whined louder than the wind whistling outside. The slice of landscape visible past the cargo bay ramp narrowed as it rose up towards the fuselage. Blaze stared outward, at the wild and untamed frontier world, as it disappeared from view.
This space cowboy right here isn't scared of anything, he thought with a scoff.
The cargo bay ramp sealed shut with a resounding thud.