So, airlocks.
“This way.” The clerk flicked two fingers.
Torian skipped behind him, gaping at a sleek cargo ship looming overhead. There were hoverpads anchored to each corner, a stronger version of the technology the Magnium F82 used.
If Amelia had access to hoverpads, Torian’s job as a scrap would have been a lot easier.
Then again, maybe Ameliadidhave access, and she just didn’t want her scraps using it. That would be pretty typical for the vicious Princess of the Fleet. There was a standard to be set aboard her starship, after all.
“Are these sorted into price ranges?” Torian asked.
“Something like that.” The clerk soundedtoocasual now. “How wide is your piloting range?”
“I can fly any starship,” Torian replied, praying that her Certificate of Really Authentic Piloting from the prestigious School of Pilot Licenses was versatile, and not the “online scam” Celise claimed. “Why?”
“No reason.”
They kept walking. Every step, Torian expected he’d point out options, that they’d get to browse a few before she made her choice. But he seemed to know exactly where he was going, and it wasn’t here.
They finally reached the corner of the hangar, where a smallcluster of ships remained. The others had been bigger, fitting crews of thirty to fifty hands. These ships could accommodate maybe three, which was a better fit for Torian anyway.
“These aren’t bad?” It came out as a question.
The dock worker laughed. “Thoseare fifty ionite bars.” He finally reached the edge of the hangar, a large metal wall with a single door, which he hauled open with ease. “Here’s what twenty bars will get you.”
The hangar beyond was oppressively dark—but dim emergency lights illuminated a single ship’s outline. The air was scented with something… earthy. It vaguely reminded Torian of the potted plants outside Celise’s clinic, but that was ridiculous, because they lived on a metal space station.
While Torian tried to place the scent, the clerk closed the door and stepped to a panel of knife switches, flicking them up. The bulbs overhead turned on one by one, flooding the space.
Torian stared at the singular ship, dread settling into her chest.
“Where are the others?”
She thought she’d at least have a choice.
“You’re looking at it. This is the only ship we have for twenty bars.”
“It’s alien,” she said helplessly. When he’d asked about versatility, she didn’t think he meant analienstarship. It was awkward, blocky in ways human starships hadn’t been in centuries. It hadwindows, for Heavens’ sake, which was just a structurally terrible choice.
The clerk crossed his arms, almost smug now. “Alien, yep. And ancient, far as we can tell. See that, there? Moss overgrowth. Ship is teeming with it. That’s why we keep it in the dark.”
The starship was falling apart: its panels were brown with rust, the moss overgrowth spreading in every corner. The round windows were dark, impossible to see through, so she wasn’t even sure it had internal power. The flight deck appeared dark and decrepit.
Torian had worked for seven fucking years for this. Six and a half in security jobs thatliterally almost killed her, and six monthsof physical labor in the belly of Amelia’s starship. Seven years trying to save her sister, and this was all she could afford.
Torian felt her heart breaking—but even as it shattered, she slapped a cage around it, crushing it back together.
There had to be a bright side here.
Hadto.
“Ready for a refund?” the clerk asked, far too amused. “Less one ionite bar, of course, for the hassle.”
“I’m not leaving.” Torian gritted her teeth and ventured farther into the hangar. Celise couldn’t afford to wait for the magical moment when the perfect ship fell into Torian’s lap. If this ship flew, it still fit her needs.
Last week, Celise had coughed blood. She’d tried to hide it, but Torian saw.
With that in mind, Torian examined her new vessel. It was blocky, yes, but that implied a spacious interior. The moss was… something she could work with. The windows didn’t look like glass, so Torian chose to believe it was some fancy alien material that was stronger, and thus didn’t compromise the hull’s integrity.
