Chapter Text
I saw the Northern Pacific Spaceport as a testament to everything humanity was. Originally the launch site of the Exodus-1 and Earth’s bid for a safe future among the stars, those who couldn’t make it aboard that only hope of reaching beyond our solar system built the platform up into an unrivaled city-state. I couldn’t tell you why. Maybe it was the already existing infrastructure they’d needed to build a ship that massive, maybe it was to cling to the scraps of hope the project left behind, maybe it was just a big “fuck you” to the people that left us behind. Whatever reason the original stragglers set up shop here, it was a long, organic, cancerous growth process that saw entire wards slowly cannibalized to feed the main city’s insatiable expansion.
I’d never seen it up close, I’d never been anywhere near until now. I was used to the city being a staple of the horizon, the six support columns that held the shipyard in its spot in space always peeked far over the ocean on rare cloudless days.
I’d paid out the ass for a cargo ship to take me there. Passage from the habitable sliver that remained of America to the NPS was not easy to procure, flights weren’t an option at all and the train line was bombed decades before I was born. Finding my way down to the dock towns and bribing the right people was an ordeal and I’m still not completely sure why I did it. Even as the monstrous warehouse platforms loomed ahead and I held my only bag to my chest, I couldn’t truly get it through that I was here. I just couldn’t grasp that I had brought myself to the NPS entirely of my own will and means, but there it was and here I stood.
While the wharf we docked in was indistinguishable to that of the city I'd embarked from, everything about the atmosphere and environment and scenery was alien. My mask’s HUD told me it was just past noon but it felt like midnight, the shipyard impossibly high above us meant even daylight was a scarcity here. The city had adapted to this darkness, or been built to with it in mind from the get-go. Lamps lined the quays and the cloud piercing metroplex’s sea of artificial lights felt like a dim, hostile sun.
A clap on the back heralded the arrival of the man who’d brought me aboard in the first place. I’d never managed to remember his name.
“Hope ye can make it out here, son. This city’ll eat you alive if you’re not careful. Best stay clear of its teeth.”
“O-”
By the time I mustered myself to speak, he’d moved on to do his job. I was left by myself on the docks, nothing to my name except a duffle of clothes, enough credits for a week of frugal living, my mask, and a freshly minted provisional starfaring navigator’s license. It always made me mad that the official names of most space-related disciplines had “starfarer” in the names. It was a holdover from the Exodus initiatives and it felt like they were reaching back from deep space and giving us the finger every time we thought about that final frontier.
I’d hoped a new start would mean I could take off the mask, that I could feel comfortable showing myself to anybody. My hands faltered as I reached to loosen the clasps that protected me from the world, that all-too-familiar dread rushed back to the forefront of my mind. I fastened the straps, put my hood up, and willed my legs to carry me forward. The prosthetics had seen better days and the weeks of sedentary life on the freighter hadn’t helped keep their servos loose, but I loved them. The cheap things were worth more to me than any of my actual body. They quickly shook off the stupor and I headed right into the belly of the beast. My goal: find any crew that’d take me and get off this planet for as long as I could.
The shipping docks were a well planned mess of hastily constructed warehouses and cranes that were, in contrast to everything around them, in very good condition. The ward’s rail system ran non-stop about a story above my head and in spite of what I knew about the gravity reduction tech that made things like this possible, I was terrified at the idea of that many tonnes of who-knows-what rushing so close to my head. I rushed as fast as looked normal away from the overwhelming noise and wind the trains generated, ending up at a small square with a handy map kiosk. The city didn't bother with screens or holograms out this far: this was old fashioned paper behind glass and, according to the date in the corner, decades old. I knew enough about the NPS’s constant growth and remodeling to understand how little value I’d find in any specifics here.
All that mattered to me now though was one big question: Where would I find the most spacers in need of a navigator.
Where I’d find the most of them in general was a much easier one to answer, a harder place to reach. Lots of crews docked in the shipyard way above, unloaded whatever they were commissioned for, and promptly spent their entire shore leave enjoying the entertainment up top. Issue one with trying to find a job up there, most crews up there were full up and very likely wouldn't take someone as new as me even if they did need a navigator. Issue two, and the caveat that took it off the table completely, was the sheer price of a ride up if you weren't on a crew. I’d be throwing days of my meager living budget down the drain on the ticket alone. No, I needed some place cheaper and with a higher chance of desperate captains eager to take on a newbie. I needed… there it was: A starfarer’s college not unwalkably far from where I was now, one that hopefully still existed.
I’d pawned my tablet to finance my voyage so as of now all I had to rely on to guide me was my mask. Specifically I was using the HUD’s holographic notepad to jot down every turn in the course I planned. All I could do now was keep flapping my wings and hope the wax didn’t melt too soon.
My long list of directions met a premature fate when, after about two hours of walking, I discovered that the street I was supposed to turn onto had been replaced by what looked to be a heavily medieval themed bar. I had to laugh a bit to myself at how ridiculously out of place it was in a ward rife with ugly, sewn-together metal sheeting.
Fuck it.
My stroll towards the wooden door very quickly became a quieter, more timid approach as the fact that I would probably have to talk to people inside started sinking in. A shy press on the door revealed both that the sleepy interior of the tavern and that the “wood” was actually very well shaped metal. I was very close to assuming I would be the only customer of the evening when a boisterous laugh rang out from a corner of the room I couldn't see yet. Sighing and steeling myself, I stepped fully into the room and slinked over to a table where I could be alone, far from what I now saw was a duo with very strong personalities.
The bartender came over to take my order: a domestic pint and the cheapest thing on the menu, which happened to be half a boiled potato with nothing on it. As soon as the order was in I automatically started observing the pair. People-watching was something that came far too easy to me and, for all I enjoyed it, I usually had a very hard time putting that observer mindset away when I had to. The mouth portion of my mask mechanically folded to the sides as a staff member set my drink and meal in front of me.
The woman in the pair caught my attention first, she was the loud one from earlier. Her hair was a beautiful color, colors were always the first things my mind latched onto about people. Her deep black pixie cut combined with her sharp dark features to give her an indescribable air, her eyes had an intimidating spark to them that was muffled by her drunken laughter.
I immediately learned that muffled didn't mean muted and, as she managed to meet my gaze even through my mask’s opaque visor, I felt her eyes bore into me. A short lived intensity but one that left an impression on me – something that she clearly felt too and wasn't going to waste time mulling over. She instantly turned to her companion and pointed at me.
The man she was with was an entirely different beast to her, he gave a big sigh as he stood to a height that had to be a head taller than me at least. Any exasperation he had with his companion faded from his expression as he started across the small tavern, his massive strides not giving me a whole lot of time to take stock before he got to my table. His face was honestly the spitting image of what boat captains in old stories looked like, complete with a dark, well loved sailor’s hat and a bushy but well groomed brown beard. As he got closer I could make out that his thick bomber jacket was doing a good job hiding how lean he actually was. The jacket was sparsely decorated, in fact it looked like it had a lot of patches unceremoniously removed. The most obvious one on it now was an emblem I didn’t recognize at all, some kind of bird I couldn’t recognize. If I had to give a cynical review of the whole affair, I’d say it looked like a grab bag of used clothes he’d thrown on all at once. Somehow he made it work.
I was dragged back into my mind when he cleared his throat; politely but with the sense of authority that all of him radiated.
“Hey kid. Mind if I take a seat?”
I unconsciously sent the signal for my mask to close back up before I responded, my voice stayed clear but my face was completely hidden again. I saddled up quicker than I had at the dock at least
“Ah- sure yeah that’s fine.”
His eyes conveyed his hidden smile as he carefully pulled the chair out and wearily took a seat. His voice was a bit lighter than I expected, a little aged but without any of the gruffness his appearance might suggest.
“Grace over there seems to have taken an interest in you and elected to send me over to make a bit of small talk. She’s a pain in my ass sometimes but I can’t deny her instincts. I’d be long dead without them, so let’s get talking.”
He smiled again and I felt my anxiety start to drain, even if it was just a trickle. His aura managed to be simultaneously serious and comforting, it felt like the library near where I grew up. One of the places I could still look back on fondly.
He reached a hand across the table and I responded just a little slower than a normal person would. It always took me a second to get warmed up to this stuff.
“Name’s Rosco Bennett. Captain by trade but for the foreseeable future it’s looking like I’m stuck with my feet on the ground.”
“Sea or space?”
I realized I’d somehow made two mistakes with the first words out of my mouth. First, his entire demeanor seemed to stiffen. Second was one I made a lot, I forgot to give him my name. I corrected the easier one of those as quickly as I could, managing to get a quiet introduction out.
“Ah sorry, my name’s Jack.”
He eased up as quick as the tension had come, doing his best to pretend it was never there.
“Space! I guess we are close enough to the docks, most captains you’ll find that call themselves one ‘round here are the ones with lots less attachment to this wet ball of dirt. Right now I’m floundering without a job or full crew. Neither me nor Grace have much talent rustling up the ones who actually know their shit, even if she’s got a good sense for how nice people’ll play with each other. Enough about me though, what’s your story?”
“Um I’m… new here. I’m sure you could tell that already. I’m trying to find my way to the navigator’s college. Ah the one pretty close to hear at least. I mean if it’s still here, the map I found looked really outdated.”
“Now I’ll turn this question back on you because I’m getting the impression you misunderstood something: sea or space?”
A small wave of embarrassment broke on me as I realized what he was implying.
“Ah… Space.”
His laugh carried the same unexpected melody as his voice did and I could thankfully tell it wasn’t directed at me.
“The dump of a school in this ward is both all about the ocean and a total piece of shit. Glad to have caught you before you were sucked dry to learn something you didn’t even want!”
“Oh I um… I already have a cert. I hoped I’d find someone in the market for a navigator close to a college.”
His eyes narrowed and I felt myself involuntarily shrink back a bit.
“Are you now… HEY GRACIE GET YOUR DRUNK ASS OVER HERE!”
The volume and content of the shout shocked me and gave me more cause to make myself small. Not that I had much chance before I caught a predatory spark in her eye as a big, cocky grin spread across her face and she dramatically stood up to saunter her way over.
As soon as she got to us she yanked out a chair and plopped herself down, giving me a once-over before laying her head on the table and looking at Rosco.
“So so so, what’s got you in such a mood here cap’n?”
“Jack here says he’s got a starnav certification and I hoped you’d be sober enough to test his mettle.”
They both turned to look at me again, their curious stares were digging into me and I instinctually turned off my visor, sending me into a comfortable and complete darkness that always made it easier to talk.
“Yeah, I do. I’m still really new, I completed the courses on my way over from America and I’ve only been on the NPS about six hours, but I’m as confident as I can be about my skills here. I want to get off Earth as soon as I can.”
When Grace spoke again she sounded almost sober, a hint of disappointment in her voice. One that took the wind out of one of my sails while the other caught a massive gale. I wanted to prove her wrong. It hurt too much to be underestimated and I wasn’t about to let my first real conversation in this city end there without doing my best to fight back.
“You’re that green huh? How about this, I’ll throw you this test I’ve cooked up and you do your best. Don’t be too discouraged if you can’t plot the course, it’s not a beginning level problem. Do your best and come to us in the morning about it. We’ll be staying here in room. Um. Roscooooo throw me a lifeline here. What room are we in?”
“First one to the right at the top of the stairs.”
I turned my visor back on to see his eyes smiling at me again, less judgmental than Grace’s tone had been. Grace slid me a folder with intimidatingly simple instructions and probably twenty blank sheets. Seemed she was the kind that preferred paper for this kind of thing.
“See you in the morning, kid. We’ll get out of your hair now, enjoy the… potato.”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little at that as the pair made their way back to their table, It really was a shit meal.