concern

We’re unloading our new cargo tomorrow morning, and as of first watch tonight, Caban hadn’t gone over the plan. Of course it will be the same as it ever was…I check out the location first, then the other three come in to do the talking, and we exchange goods for coin. These are new contacts we’ve never worked with before, so I have reason to be as nervous as I always am before a ‘routine mission’. I found Caban in his bunk and asked him what the plan was, and he looked surprised.
“No different than usual.”
“I’d appreciate you going over it with the crew.”
“No need, if we need to we can talk tomorrow.”
“You aren’t concerned with the new contacts?”
“No different than usual” he said again, though this time it annoyed me. I remembered the times when Caban and I spent most evenings talking, but there are more folk about now and we don’t anymore. “Is there something in particular that you’re thinking?”
“Just wondering why you aren’t acting like Captain.” I replied, too hastily.
“Well. What is that supposed to mean?” he lowered the pad he was holding and looked at me. I looked around at his quarters; the print of Earth turning into the sunset, the ponic plants in a neat row on a shelf, the folded blankets and messy pile of socks and shirts in the corner.
“We’re delivering stolen goods that we took from thieves, and you aren’t concerned that maybe we’re bringing them to their own friends? Maybe we should have gotten new contacts.”
“A little late for that now. There won’t be any problem.”
“You don’t know that.” I said flatly, old arguments from countless Captains biting at my tongue.
“That’s why you find out first. I don’t see the problem, Scout.”
The problem is that he’s not keeping track of things so well, and I said so. “Look at our crew, Caban. We have a crude old convict, a silent psychopath, a chemmed-over girl, and a murderous doctor who has carved a man to bits.”
“And there’s you, and there’s me.”
“But you’re not worried at all.”
“No. Never have been. Look, Scout, we don’t have a perfect crew. Are you looking to leave? We’re a skip away from Rookston, maybe you can rent out the old junkheap room you had before I came along.” His face was as serious as I’ve seen it, and I couldn’t find the familiar humor in it. He had struck low, but I had insulted his crew. Our crew.
“I’m not looking to leave.” I said, after a silent pause. “I’m looking out for all of us. It’s not the rest of them…you know I worked with Ice before, and Em is getting better, and Kon…is Kon. But the Doctor. Do you even know his real name?”
Caban squinted and rubbed his scalp. “Messero? Doug something. He helped you, Scout, when no one else did. And he’s made a place for himself here.”
“You saw what he did to that man.”
“And I saw what Ice did to the man who hit you with the pulse blast. You broke Kon’s finger, and in Paquin, you…”
“He scares me.” I said, realizing it was the truth.
“Not having a doctor scares me worse.” Caban stood up and grabbed my shoulder. “I’m watching out for us too. It’s my job, and you had better trust me to get it done. If you don’t, then we have a problem.”
“I'm doing my job.”
“Exactly. Checking to make sure I’m being careful. I don’t pay you to cook.”
“Maybe you should.”

He smiled, and all the anger in his coiled muscles disappeared. “You take that up with Ice, she’s in charge of the accounts. Ask her to start paying Her Eminence a wage too.” I laughed and wished him goodnight, but as I left his room Caban stopped me.
“When we met on Rookston, Scout, what had brought you there?”
“I finished a job early. I was working for Blackthorn…we had professional differences.”
“Man seemed to have those with about everyone.” He agreed, and I wondered what the cause for recognition was. “What did he do?”
I paused and remembered his unwelcome, forceful propositions and my equally forceful refusal of them, followed by my ungracious deposit in the junkspot town. “We disagreed about how my salary should be earned. I broke his fingers. Almost got his jaw, too.”
It is no small satisfaction that I get from surprising Caban, and I try to do it as often as I can. “Shakes, Scout. No small wonder why I’m afraid of you Runner women.”