Scout's Log

My account of life in space. The year is 77 Space Age, which is, in more ancient terms, 2327 CE. I am space debris. And of all the ships in the galaxy, I had to hop aboard the pirate ship. Such is life.

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Name:
Location: onboard 'Oberon', deep space

I push ahead, always navigating, always scouting somewhere. I have this tendency to outlive my friends, and much of what I have known is now gone. It is my goal in life to know everything. I figure the best way to do so is to travel the universe, picking up information as I go. This is the path I've chosen.

Sunday, February 19, 77 S.A.

guilty

I had the rewire some circuits to upload the new program I got from Guanlong. False coordinates and charts will be displayed everywhere but the nav seat, so The Sneak won’t be able to tamper with anything unless she’s sitting on my lap.
Up in the crawlspaces I got a chance to see the world as she does, though she most likely slides through much more easily than I do. I heard Kon stomp past, he stopped and announced, “She’s up there again!” before moving on. A short time later Caban came by, his clothes rustling as he considered the wallspace where I crouched.
“Em?” he asked, and I did not answer, whether from curiousity or because of the fact I was clutching wirecaps in my teeth I will not specify.
“Well. I thought you’d left,” he continued, “Guess you’re comfortable in there. Not running off at the first stop. I don’t mind.” He stopped again and listen to the slight shuffle of my feet against the metal wall.
“The others…they’re just not used to you yet. As long as you’re doing repairs…don’t tell Ice, but I figure you deserve a wage.” Truth be told, I had noted some repairs that the girl must have made, there were rust spots newly scrubbed away, loose wiring tightened, even some patches over weaknesses I hadn’t been aware of.
“Well.” As he spoke I could hear him rubbing his hand through his hair, choosing his words as carefully as he always does. “I just wish, you’d get comfortable here. Tell us who you are, even just a little. What’s your name? Em? Short for…Emily? Emma? Emeline? Your Eminence? Not that anyone here uses their real names except me. But who are you? Where are you from? Who raised you up?” He stopped and sighed. “I’ve got an older brother and two little sisters. He’s just a year older than me, we used to pretend we were twins. He left the farm…you know, Agrifields…more machines than plants now, plenty of ‘ponics, but still a farm. You ever been on a farm? Well. He made good right away, retired to Verisan and gave me his ship, I send him a line once a year but he doesn’t answer much anymore. Lydia, that was my baby sister, she came on the ship with me, for a while until… No one came with you, did they. You’ve never had anyone. But Em…you have people with you this time. We’re your folk now.”
I tried to imagine his face on the other side of the barrier, his hope and generosity radiating out through the years and drugs that separated him and the stowaway. I wondered what he would do if I popped out.
After he walked away, it was all I could do to finish my work and pretend nothing had happened.
Maybe no one will notice anything.

Monday, February 13, 77 S.A.

records

We're docking in Target City for a few days, looking for work. We all know enough people that it won't take long, but it is nice to have solid ground for even a short time. And free time away from the ship will do me some small good.

I know a large percentage of the Runner population here, though they barely know me. I've worked with them, I've worked against them, but they always fail to connect my face and name. There are always new ones, every month, and there are always those who have faded away, forgotten.

Guanlong got me what I needed, but did not spare any expense because he, the sleepy and powerful lizard that he is, has no trust for or debt to anyone. I know him of old, but he does not differentiate between peer and supplicant.

My coin is lessened, but the ship is safe. Once the new program is installed, Em will have no access to the Navigation system, even if she thinks she does. I am ashamed that so much of me hopes she is distracted by some shiny something and forgets to clamber back aboard. Either way, we'll be safe, and Caban will find us a job, and we've got the opportunity to stretch our legs.