Drifter

Eli pressed the buzzer on the door to Gami’s cabin. After a few moments she opened the door and greeted him with a polite nod. She was wearing her armor. She’d been aboard for several days and he had yet to have seen her without it. But he knew from her use of the washing machine that she did change out the bodysuit which she wore underneath it.

“I’ve got a job lined up for us, something low impact,” he said.

“Good. We need money, especially if we are going to install those turrets you were thinking about.”

“True. You get settled in?”

Gami stepped aside so that he could see into the cramped room. She had lined the edges with weapons racks, one dedicated to curved, katana-style swords. There was a stand for her suit, upon which her helmet rested. The walls sported a few posters. Eli was surprised to see that they were depictions of cute animals and babies.

“We used a lot of Apogee-classes when I was with the Isenmok Security Service,” she stated, “In a way, it feels like I’ve returned to an old home.”

“I remember you mentioned being a part of that group. What was it like?”

“The Isenmok cluster consists of eleven star systems. They all had at least one habitable world. None of them had a stable government, not from at least a decade before I got there, not at any point while I served there, and probably not since then.”

“How long have you been gone?”

“I’d have to think about that. After my contract was up, I spent a few years traveling around studying different martial arts systems. Then I started working again. I’ve been a bounty hunter for about a decade now.”

“But you just don’t do that, right?”

“I’ve done merc work and such, as long as it’s for a good cause. What about you?” the question that she finished on sounded close to an accusation.

Eli considered his response, “I’ve never done anything that I regret, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I’m just trying to get to know you better. Afterall, if you’re going to be my partner. It only makes sense.”

“Partner? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I can be a team player, and I’m willing to learn everything that I can from you, but I don’t think that partner is the right word to use.”

“And what is the right word?”

“Well, it is my ship.”

“So, crewmember, then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Eli thought about this, after a few seconds he gave her his answer, “You’re a guest on my ship. Everything begins and ends there.”

Gami tapped her foot, which to her people was like nodding her head, “Fair enough.”

She went into her cabin and came back out holding a pistol, which she presented to Eli. He took the weapon and admired it. The handgun was high capacity, trading stopping power for magazine size. The frame was long and boxy, but still managed to evoke a certain style.

There was a symbol etched into the slide. It was the same as the one on her chest, the horizontal bar with wings above and below it. This one had a sequence of symbols on the bar. These symbols represented honor, duty, pride, martial prowess, and authority. Eli gave her the gun back.

Gami let out a sigh, “I remember my first mission with the ISS. There I was, a fifth order imp,” this was a slang term that was an equivalent of being at the bottom of the totem pole, “I’d been around, gotten into things before I joined up. I figured that I’d been hardened by it.”

“I was the same when I enlisted.”

“I guess that we all are,” she said, a hint of sadness in her eyes, despite their artificial nature, “A little wildcat mining ship had gone down on Yuung. The place had been civilized once.”

“What happened to it?”

“A series of wars. Conflicts so savage and widespread that the death tolls were in the billions. The survivors arguably had it worse. When we reached the crash site, we only found dead bodies. But the thing was that most of them had survived the initial impact. The natives had killed them. We could tell because the…the meat had been picked clean off the bones.”

Eli listened in silence. He allowed himself to picture a different version of her, someone that lacked the hard edges. He omitted the cynicism and grace.

“We followed the tire tracks back to their camp. I was put on point, my rookie hazing. We could see the glow of their bonfires as we approached. The cages were the first thing that I noticed, why would they need so many cages? Their eyes when they charged at us. They’d lost their minds a long time ago.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. Nothing can stop me from remembering it. I’ll bring my experiences back to my people, where they’ll be added to the others. But that won’t be for a while yet.”

“How long?”

“You’ll be dead by then, even if you give up the gun and settle down somewhere. My walkabout will simply outlast your lifespan.”

“And you can remember everything?”

“Yes, every second, in perfect detail.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“Depends on the memory. There were a lot of good times. I served with some great people, and we did a lot of good. I’m going to go to the storage room, get a count of our supplies.”

“That’s a good idea. We are going to have some guests for a few days.”

She started walking toward the rear of the secondary hull. Eli turned toward the ladder. He stopped, half-turned and spoke, “You said that there weren’t any governments in the cluster.”

“Yes. Just raiders and the juntas that ran the settlements.”

“Then who controlled your group?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who sponsored your group?”

“Self-sponsored,” she said, as she entered the little supply room.