after

Spent the last day leaving a complex jump trail between Collette and New Bombay, where there are plenty of places to hide from the Feds that may or may not be chasing us. There is always work in New Bombay.

Caban looked around at his crew and said, “Well. I think we all need Runner lessons.”

He’s not wrong. There are no academies for this line of work except a life spent doing it. None of us here are amateurs; if we were, we’d be dead. Ice took down Stretch and half the other men, she came away without a scratch. Kon got his armor shirt pounded near to scrap but still took down a few before everyone fled at the sight of Fed shuttles bearing down on us. Caban has a swollen black eye and a set of bruised knuckles. He came running back to get me while the air filled with Federal sirens that I didn’t notice. If Milano’s not dead he will be in their custody and even angrier. The Doctor came out of the shuttle and got some shots off before he tripped and split his chin open on a rock. I gave him his stitches after he made sure his repairs on me were holding up. Ice kept a close eye on everyone as he examined us. Her eyes are everywhere, and for once I don’t mind.

We’ll be making contact with one of Zacharias’ men in the morning. I didn’t exactly want to die for a few boxes of organ meat, but the crew is sore that we didn’t get paid. I hear Kon’s voice in the hallway announcing that he’s getting drunk now, and now everyone is spilling out of their quarters, their voices laughing and clamoring and loud.
I guess we’re all going to join him.