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Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Snapshots - Chapter 2

Day One - P.M.

Time: CY10088 Oct 7 5165 1317
Location: Fenree spaceport, market district

Trance's next item on her to-do list was grocery shopping. As soon as she had the package of medicines safely aboard the Maru, she took the scoot that had been supplied by the port authority for the Maru's crew's use. and after getting directions from one of the port information kiosks, took the three-wheeled electric vehicle out for a grocery run. Despite the assurances from various manufacturers that prepackaged food was just as nutritious and tasty as fresh food, most spacers preferred fresh food. The crew of the Maru was no exception. The Maru's galley had only a limited ability to store fresh food, so grocery shopping was almost a given whenever the Maru made a port call.

There were several stores in the port itself that sold groceries, but Trance bypassed them and headed out into the residential area of town. She liked to visit the small Mom and Pop stores that the local residents frequented because not only was the quality of the food usually better, but there was usually someone who would be willing to share recipes when it came to cooking a food with which she was unfamiliar. She had a very large collection of recipes from different planets, most of which she had never tried. She also kept a list of what foods members of the crew were allergic to. Rashes were bad enough, but there had been a time Harper had almost died because of a food allergy.

On the way back to the Maru, Trance kept an eye out for anything interesting. She had been on Fenree once before but had had no chance to explore the area near the port as she had been busy helping Beka and Harper assist the crew of another Salvagers Guild vessel, one that had run afoul of port authority regulations. She intended this visit to be different.

Not too far from the port security gate, she found her ‘anything interesting’ in the form of a small shop that bore the legend Fragrant Flora hand painted on one of its windows. Beka said I shouldn't spend all my money today. She didn't say I couldn't spend some of it, thought Trance as she brought the scoot to a stop outside the shop and, after collecting her bags of groceries, entered the establishment.

The shop lived up to its name. When Trance entered, she was met by a virtual wall of scents. Not only scents but colors as well since the majority of the plants within the confines of the shop were in bloom. One plant in particular caught her attention. It was a species she was totally unfamiliar with. The bell-shaped blooms were an iridescent blue in color while the stalk of the plant was a rich mahogany. She bent forward to smell the blooms. They gave off the distinct scent of cinnamon.

"You arrived at a fortuitous time," came a voice from behind her. "She has just started to bloom."

Trance turned around to see someone who she assumed was the manager or owner of the store. The ‘someone’ was humanoid in the sense that it was man-sized and had two arms, two legs, and a head where a head should be, but it was definitely not human. The being was covered in a fine orange fur that was dappled with irregular black and brown markings. It had pointed ears attached to the top of its head, and a horizontal slit where a nose would be on a human or on one of her kind. The most striking feature was its eyes, which were probably twice as large as those of a human or one of her species. Trance recognized the being from one of Harper's stories about the Maru's travels—he or she was a native of the planet Makrai.

"It's beautiful!" exclaimed Trance. "Did you bring it from Makrai with you?"

The being, which Trance decided was male for no reason at all except that it was wearing a pair of short pants, gave what she suspected was a smile—although it did show a pair of large fangs in the process. "I'm impressed that you recognize my species," he said. "Most people who enter my shop have to ask what my species is as very few of us leave Makrai." He paused for a minute as if considering whether or not he should continue. "Though I suspect that the same could be said about you. May I ask your name and species?"

It was Trance's turn to hesitate. How much should she tell him? "My shipmates call me a pixie. You couldn't pronounce my name in my native language, but my use name is Trance Gemini."

The Makraian crossed his arms across his chest, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back as if he was offering Trance the opportunity to bite his throat. After a moment, he opened his eyes and assumed a more normal posture. "Then welcome to my humble shop, Trance Gemini," he said as he straightened up. "You may call me Lilind."

"My ship visited your planet once before I became a crew member," said Trance. "They were picking up a consignment of the rugs your people weave. My fiance was aboard then, and he says your planet is one of the most beautiful he has ever visited."

The Makraian showed his fangs again. "Your fiance is one who appreciates the beautiful things in life, but of course that is obvious considering he has chosen you to be his lifemate."

Trance felt heat coming to her face and realized she was blushing. But, before she could stammer out a response to Lilind's compliment, the shop owner continued.

"When you and your lifemate-to-be exchange your bonding vows, you must come to my home world and visit the Crystal Falls. Many of your species comes there to celebrate their lifemating. The falls are said to be the most beautiful location on our planet, and the kismet flowers are said to increase both the fertility and mating desire of your kind." He paused for a moment and looked at Trance's abdomen. "Though in your case, it would appear that your fertility has already been proven."

"What do you mean?" asked Trance. She knew that her pregnancy wasn't obvious to the naked eye yet.

"A female with child carries a particular odor," explained the Makraian, pointing to his nose slit. "You carry the scent of a human female that has successfully mated."

"I am pregnant," admitted Trance, "but you must be mistaken about my scent. How could I smell like a human woman when I'm not human? Maybe the fact that my shipmates are human has caused some of their scent to cling to me."

"Perhaps," said the Makraian. His tone of voice clearly indicated that he didn't believe Trance's explanation but also that he wasn't going to pursue the matter. "But, in answer to your question about Wele, she is a flowering canerbe and is indeed a native of Makrai."

Trance clapped her hands in excitement, glad to be getting away from the subject of her pregnancy. "Oh, you name your plants, too! So do I. I have a Benesserit orchid named Matilda and a Tizona damsel fern named Deanna and a Broughton needle leaf named Blake and a…" She stopped as Lilind raised a hand.

"Enough," said the Makraian. "You have convinced me that you would give Wele a good home. She is yours if you desire her."

Fifteen minutes later, Trance, now with a flowering canerbe accompanying her groceries, was on her way back to the Maru. "Beka told me not to spend all my money," she said to herself. "I still have 25 thrones left."


Time: CY10088 Oct 7 5165 1546
Location: Fenree spaceport, business district

Beka looked at the man sitting across the desk from her and wished she could be just about anywhere else. A representative of Ras Algheti Transport had contacted her, informing her that the company had a shipment that needed to be delivered to Fellenhof Drift. Normally, Beka would have been happy for a job offer, but Ras Algheti Transport was a member of the Free Trade Alliance. Beka hated dealing with the FTA. The smaller companies that were members of the Alliance weren't so bad—most of them had been given a choice of either joining or being crushed—but the larger ones were little more than rapacious pirates. Ras Algheti Transport was a medium sized member, but it had ambitions. Unfortunately, Beka didn't have much in the way of options at the moment. Thanks to the FTA's rules on filial liability, she had inherited her father’s debts to the FTA bankers. And they were considerable. So far, she had been able to make payments on little more than the interest the debts were accruing, but the possibility of falling behind was a constant threat hanging over her head.

Trance and Harper knew that she owed the FTA money, but they were unaware of just how precarious her situation was. FTA collectors collected more than just property when they were sent out to collect on an overdue debt. If she fell behind on payments and was very lucky, the FTA would make use of her piloting skills, and she would spend a few years piloting FTA vessels for free. If she was unlucky, they would find another type of work for her, a much less skilled form, a type that she would be doing in a horizontal position. So when the local company factor requested that she come to his office to discuss the deal, she reluctantly complied.

"... two standard shipping containers," the man was saying. "Two point five meters by four meters by eight point two meters—each with a mass of twelve thousand kilos. We'll pay you our standard rates for the delivery."

"That's not much better than asking me to ship it for you free of charge," complained Beka.

The man tapped pudgy fingers on the nameplate on his desk. The name plate said ‘Devenlight.’ He was wearing a ring with a large red stone set in it, which clashed with the purple shirt he was wearing. "I don't see you having any other option, Captain Valentine. There aren't any other shipments bound for Fellenhof Drift available before your vessel's departure date. And considering how far in debt you are to the organization…" He left the threat unsaid.

It was a hit, thought Beka, but not a critical one, and she hadn't come into this fight unarmed. She had some ammunition of her own.

"The way I see it," said Beka, leaning back in her chair to demonstrate a feeling of self-confidence, "is that you need me more than I need you. Your cargo will be welcome, but I'll be able to make my payments on time even without your cargo. But, will your superiors appreciate the late delivery penalty that Ras Algheti will incur if I don't accept the consignment?"

"What late delivery penalty?" said the man, obviously taken aback by Beka's self-assurance.

The expression on Devenlight's face when she mentioned late delivery fees convinced Beka that what she had suspected was correct. "I did my homework after you contacted me," she said. "Port Authority hadn't posted the updated arrival and departure list when I started looking for cargoes, but the update was posted within minutes after you contacted me. Normally, your outfit wouldn't have anything to do with an independent operator like me, so I investigated. The Starvista belongs to Ras Algheti. Her next port of call after Fenree is Fellenhof Drift. She was scheduled to arrive in port tomorrow, but she's been delayed by a week .—nor are there any other FTA owned vessels whose next destination is Fellenhof scheduled to arrive before the Starvista will. Your own FTA travelers' advisories haven't indicated that there is any situation on Fellenhof that would require emergency supplies. So, there's only one other reason for you to contact me. You must be concerned about late delivery penalties."

She leaned forward in her chair; she was going to enjoy this discussion after all. It wasn't often she had the upper hand when dealing with the FTA.

"So now, Mr. Devenlight, why don't we discuss what percentage of the late delivery penalty your company is going to pay me in order to keep it from having to pay the full penalty."


Time: CY10088 Oct 7 5165 1800
Location: The Eureka Maru's common room

Beka walked out of her stateroom, where she had been working on the Maru's accounts, and into the ship's common room. As she glanced around the combined galley, dining area, and recreation center, she realized that with Trance busy working on the air scrubbers and Harper working on the Maru's engines, there was only one person left to prepare dinner—herself. She was in the mood for a slice of duroc cooked medium rare, but that wasn't going to happen today. Trance was a strict vegetarian and bought groceries accordingly. If Beka wanted that slice of duroc, she would have to eat out.

"Well, let's see what we can make that won't poison anyone," said Beka to herself, resigned to a vegetarian meal. "No sense pulling one of the others off their work to cook." She opened the door to one of the galley's small cabinets. "Trance must think we need more protein," she muttered after looking at the cabinet's contents, which were heavy on legumes.

A quick check of the galley's small, but now well-stocked refrigerator revealed several vegetables that Beka remembered from previous visits to Fenree, including several that could have been the definition of the word ‘pungent.’ Trance had a liking for heavily spiced food. Beka removed several of the vegetables, some cheese, and a package of the local flat bread. A few minutes later, the legumes were simmering in a pot on one of the galley's two burners, and Beka was busy at the common room's table chopping vegetables and grating cheese.

"Wrap it all up in the flat bread, and it shouldn't taste too bad," thought Beka, "but what do I do with these?"

'These' were another variety of vegetable that Trance had brought home from her shopping trip—one Beka was totally unfamiliar with. There were three of them. They were oblong, bright yellow in colour, hard, and had spikes protruding from them.

"This looks like something that could be found in a museum display on primitive warfare," said Beka as she picked one up and inspected it. "Do I cook it or throw it at Harper if he complains about my cooking?"

It was about that time when she noticed the note attached to the galley's combination microwave/bake oven. The note said, 'You bake them 1 hour at 250°.'

Harper's starting to rub off on her, thought Beka as she placed the objects in the oven. Next thing you know, she'll be swilling Sparky Cola and helping him brew beer in the engine room.

An hour later, the food was on serving dishes, and she began setting the table. Since they were in port and didn’t have to worry about conserving water, Beka decided to use the real dishes rather than the disposable ones the crew normally used. As she laid the plates out on the common room table, she was reminded of when she was a girl and setting the dishes on that same table for family meals—before her mother abandoned their family, her brother Rafe left, and her father died of a Flash overdose. But that was then and this was now, and while Trance and Harper weren't her blood family, they were family in every way that counted. Walking over to the room's intercom panel, she keyed the microphone. "Dinner time," she said.

..."That was good, Beka," said Trance as she ran a finger near the corner of her mouth to collect crumbs from the meal and then licked her finger.

"Yeah," agreed Harper as he scrapped his plate clean with his fork. "Those yellow things tasted a lot like acorn squash."

"Squashed acorns?" asked Trance. She looked at Harper. "I thought you said acorns came from trees and were tiny."

"I think squash is some type of vegetable, Trance," said Beka. "Not something that comes from a tree." She turned to look at Harper. "Ok, Shorty, Trance did the shopping, and I did the cooking. You can do the cleaning up."

"Huh?" went Harper. "How'm I supposed to do that? The ultrasound generator in the dishwasher is broken."

"Nice try, Harper," said Beka. "You can add fixing the dishwasher to your to-do list, but in the meantime, you can do the dishes the old fashioned way—in the sink using soap and water, just like I did when I was growing up on the Maru and the dishwasher was broken."


Time: CY10088 Oct 8 5165 0200
Location: The Eureka Maru's engineering room

Harper took a look at the readouts on the control panel and began to swear, using language that would have caused a Lancer Sergeant Major to blush and leave the room in embarrassment. The engines still weren’t synched.

More precisely the magneto-plasma dynamic drives weren’t synchronized, or not synchronized closely enough. Badly out of synch drives would create uneven thrust which at best would make maneuvering difficult and at worst could actually shake a ship to pieces. The Maru's drives weren't dangerously out of synchronization. In fact they were actually within safe parameters. Barely, but they were there. Barely wasn't good enough for Harper though. He had learned from experience that barely within parameters was simply another way of saying that the engines would need to be re-synched at the next spaceport. And neither his pride nor the Maru's finances were going to allow that to happen.

He popped open a can of Sparky Cola and downed the entire can in a couple of gulps. It was going to be a long night. He toyed with the idea of waking up Trance to get her to help him. Toyed with the idea but then discarded it. Trance could barely tell the difference between a torque wrench and a flux meter, and had put in a hard day herself. Keeping the Maru's environmental systems up and running properly was no easy task. It was actually more physically strenuous than the work he was doing. She would also be helping with the cargo onload in the morning, and that was something you needed a clear head for if you wanted to do it safely. She was going to need her sleep more than he needed her help. He popped open another can of Sparky, It was going to be a long night.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3