The girl sighed, finally looking over him, visibly taking a moment to look over his nameplate and insignia. Now that he could get a good look at her face, he could see far more tension reflected in her expression than he had expected. She wasn’t upset; she was about two steps away from a full-blown freak-out.
Now what can be the cause of that?
“Eck, I don’t know what you think this is, but I also don’t care. I was here, I dropped my bag when the man went Dutchman, and now I’m back for it. That simple. I am not leaving without that bag.”
“Why, are your clothes in it?” Max asked, regretting the words the moment they were past his lips, but regrets wouldn’t unsay the words.
The girl looked down at herself, then brought her gaze up, fixing it on his (thankfully) opaque visor. As she crossed her arms over her chest, Max noticed two additional things, things that were his first clue that he was in fact screwing up worse than he’d realized.
First, she was built. Built enough that’d he’d bet on her against any guy in his unit who was anything close to her size and mass. The second, her arms were crisscrossed with enough scars that she had to have seen some serious shit and couldn’t possibly be as young as he thought. At least, he hoped not. He wasn’t very good with kids, but he certainly didn’t wish them any ill-will, and whatever had caused all that certainly qualified.
“Sergeant, I suggest you ‘cut the bull’ and start helping. That will be more likely to get me gone sooner than anything you might try. Including trying to force me.”
Did I just get threatened by a fifty-kilo barefoot girl? Okay, maybe sixty with all the muscle she has, but still.
Well, at least she isn’t boring. And maybe she’s right, helping her will get her out of my hair faster than not. It certainly will be faster than forcing her to leave, once you factor in the reports and paperwork.
Sighing, Max held up his hands in surrender.
“Fine. Fine. I take it you already checked with the central database for lost items?”
“I…” There was a long pause. “No.”
Despite the fact that she could not see his face, Max felt the urge to very, very carefully keep his face completely neutral in expression.
Okay, okay, stay cool here. She’s upset. There is probably something important to her in that bag. Use your head. Way she’s dressed, she probably was already in bed when she remembered.
“Let’s work on that, then, shall we? Did you have your name on the bag? Just get back on station, perhaps?”
She looked away from him, clearly trying to avoid showing him any hint of embarrassment, and largely succeeding, to her credit.
“Morgan Black.”
“All right. Let me call that in.”
Save me from emotional women.
He turned off the external speakers for his suit before putting the call out to his squad’s assigned comm specialist.
“Private Gamal, can you get in touch with the main computer, see if any bags belonging to a ‘Morgan Black’ have been logged? It would have been no earlier than the accident.”
“I’m looking for what now?” the private asked, and even without seeing him, Max could tell he was unhappy about being asked to be a glorified lost and found attendant.
“Morgan Black, bag belonging to her. Get on it, I want her out of my hair.” He switched to a different line, one of the privates he knew was on standby rather than standing guard in a corridor.
“McCloud, I need you to tie into the company’s roster. See if they have employed a woman, goes by the name of Morgan Black.”
“Can do, Sarge,” McCloud replied, sounding much less annoyed than Gamal had. “She giving you problems?”
“Not just yet. Let me know what you find.”
That done, he switched his speaker back on.
“Okay, my men are checking. Was there something important in there? I hope it wasn’t credit chips or anything?” That he’d had experience with a civilian actually having that problem in the past was astounding, but no less factual for the absurdity of it. Nearly everything electronic, and still some people insist on carrying their valuables in a physical form, even if that ‘physical’ form was simply a computer storage device they could hold in their hands.
“No,” she said quietly, stepping over to the viewport and looking out toward the damaged freighter. “Nothing like that.” She laughed, sounding surprisingly bitter, given how important whatever it was clearly was to her. “You’d probably think it worth nothing at all.”
“I doubt that,” Max replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how the conversation was going. What happened to just shooing her on her way? “I’ve seen a lot of the galaxy, more than most, not that it takes much to make that claim. I’ve seen, well, things I’d not say in front of a woman, and things that would make even the darkest of souls glad.”
“It’s all I have left of him, you know,” she said, probably as much for herself as for him, more even.
“A gift then? A picture, perhaps?”
“No, nothing like that. His lucky spanner.”
“Whose?”
“Da… my father’s.”
“Daddy’s tool, huh?” Max said, finishing the cut-off term of endearment for her. It told him a lot about a girl, what they called their father, and both starting with daddy and changing it to the more ‘mature’ father told him this girl missed him greatly, but was afraid to show it. “Well,” he continued, his thoughts put aside for the moment, “That’s something we certainly can’t let get lost.” He reopened the comm channel to Gamal, without muting his speaker this time. “You find anything, Private Gamal?”
“I did indeed, Sarge. Looks like it got swept up with everything else during the craziness. Computer says it will be automatically routed to her quarters in the morning, but for right now it is in the shuttle receiving bay directly above your position.”
“Thank you, private,” Max said. “Safe and sound in a shuttle bay, and soon to be sent your way,” he added for the girl’s benefit, Morgan, he guessed.
“Shuttle bay above here, you say?” she said, clearly not willing to wait that long.
Before he could respond, two things happened.
The first, he could finally hear Private Wilkins coming up the corridor behind him.
The second, Private McCloud responded to his inquiry.
“TMH does employ a Morgan Black. Listed as fourth lieutenant, on STEVE.”
So, I was being rude and insulting not only to one of the company’s workers, but one of their officers. Great. That’s just great. Treating her like a lost kid… I’m going to hear about this from my LT tomorrow.
Though maybe I can make it up to her, be a bit nice now.
Plus, hey, if she’s an officer she’d probably actually a bit older than I am, and flirting is back on the menu.
“Okay, tell you what. Private Wilkins here,” Max said, making sure to speak loudly enough that Wilkins could hear, and giving her a wave as well, “can stay here and keep watch. I’ll take you up to the bay right now, just so we can avoid any other delays.” He lowered his helmet, giving Lieutenant Black what he considered to be his best smile and added, with complete sincerity, “I do actually know what it is like to only have a few reminders of home. They are important, whatever anyone else might say.”
He could see her eyes flick over to his scar, but they didn’t dwell there like usually happened.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. None of hers are as big as mine, and her pretty face is unmarked, but she definitely has more scars than I do.
“All right. That would be helpful.”
Max gestured toward the ladder down the corridor that would lead them toward their destination, and then let her get a few steps ahead before he started after her.
She is quite cute.
Chapter 03
We as bosses love the employees who motivate themselves, right? The ones who don’t need to be managed much, beyond told what to do, those who voluntarily
go beyond the bare minimum, who pride themselves on working hard, and so forth. Of course we like having them on our team more than the lazy, the ones who just skate on by with the minimum effort, or especially those that complain and moan the whole time! There is no shame in admitting that. One thing I would remind you all, because I hope it is a reminder and not new information, is that every type of employee has their strengths and weaknesses. And those over-achievers? If you’re not careful, they’ll burn themselves out, or push themselves to collapse, and that is bad for us and worse for them. Part of being the boss is sometimes reining in the hardest workers, just to be sure they’ll still be the hardest workers ten years from now.
- Linda Brousa, HR director of Yangtze, Planet Nuevo Peru.
MORGAN AWOKE to the shrill beeping of her uplink, an incoming urgent message. It took her a moment to figure out where she was and, once she’d released her death grip on the pistol she still kept under her pillow, several more moments to get untangled from her bedding.
Sliding open the privacy screen, Morgan fumbled about for the uplink, only managing to knock it to the floor.
Groaning, she slid out of bed onto the floor and grabbed it.
Feels like I only lay down four hours ago.
Then she saw the time on the uplink.
Nope, it was only three hours ago. Though if I hadn’t found my bag, I wouldn’t have even gotten that much sleep.
Sighing, she stretched and hit the acceptance key, being careful even in her sleepy state to trigger audio only, not video.
Enough people have seen my nightgown for the moment. “Yes?”
“Ah, good, Lieutenant Black,” the answering voice said, which Morgan recognized immediately as the commanding officer of STEVE, Captain Rain. “I didn’t expect you back for a few more days yet, but since you are here… and since you’ve apparently already been busy, I need you in my office – my station office that is – as soon as is convenient for you.”
“Of course, sir,” Morgan said, wondering what it could be about and why there was a sudden knot in her stomach. “As it happens, you just woke me, but I can be there in twenty minutes.”
“No need to rush that much; take the time you need for breakfast and all the other essentials. I have plenty of things to occupy me this morning, after all. Just be sure to come directly here after and that will be good enough for me. Until then, Lieutenant,” Rain said, ending the call before she could say anything else.
To say that Morgan was uneasy, as she mechanically got ready for the day, bathing, dressing, checking her gear, all of that, was something of an understatement. The only reason she could think of to call her in first thing, two days before she had originally planned on being back, had to do with her actions the previous night, going outside – or inside more correctly – the station to save the injured crewman. He hadn’t sounded happy with her, but neither had he sounded angry. So, what was this about?
And to think I thought that I wouldn’t have to worry so much what the boss is going to do once I left Hillman, she thought, more than a little self-pityingly. Though I guess beat me, deprive me of food, or assign me jobs likely to get me killed aren’t on the list anymore.
One of her other unanswered questions became rather more important as she came out into the common room to get breakfast. Opening the cupboards in the small kitchen space, she realized they were bare. Opening the storage space in the walls behind the dining area was the same.
She looked over at the couch still sitting in the room before remembering that it went with the quarters and was not one of Gertrude’s things.
Walking over to Gertrude’s and Haruhi’s rooms, she realized they were empty as well.
Or almost.
There was a tiny bit of white showing in a back corner of Haruhi’s room. Walking over, Morgan burst into laughter as she realized it was a single sock. She scooped it up and, lacking anything better to do with it, shoved it in one of her coverall pockets.
Haru, can’t you go even a little while without losing one?
She glanced at the time again. Gertrude should already be at work, but a quick chat shouldn’t hurt anything.
“Uplink, call Gertrude,” she said, not bothering with the physical interface for something the unit had done hundreds of times before. It beeped once and complied.
Gertrude answered after only a couple moments.
“Morgan! I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest. Did you just get back on the station? How are you feeling?”
Even if she hadn’t been able to read her best friend’s moods and emotional state as easily as she had her own mother’s, Morgan would have known that last question was hardly a formality. The last time Gertrude had seen Morgan, she’d been hiding out in Lady Emily’s sauna every minute of the day she could get away with, more than was probably healthy for most people.
“I’m doing better, G. A lot better. Listen, I uh, got back last night, and was really tired so I went straight to sleep.’ More or less. “Where, uh, where is all your stuff?”
“You’re already in our quarters? Morgan, you should have called as soon as you arrived. We moved everything into the new rooms over by the Beacon of Twilight’s berth a few days ago. I left your stuff because I didn’t want to get into your things without you knowing, and there was no rush anyway. I’d come help you move now, but since I’m without a formal ship at the moment, they pulled me in to help with the mess on the Herald. Damage this bad, I’m still amazed they didn’t lose anyone, though I hear it was a close thing with the crewman who got blasted off the ship’s hull.”
“Yeah, a real mess,” Morgan said. “It’s fine, we can move my stuff later, I have to go in to see my captain this morning anyway,” she added quickly, hoping Gertrude didn’t read anything into her earlier reply. Gertrude was deviously good about noticing when Morgan was feeling off or hiding something from her. “Just be sure to send me the location for our new quarters, so I can find it once I’m done for the day.”
“I’d ask if you got breakfast, but I know there isn’t anything to eat over there. Promise me you’ll stop and eat something on the way, will you?”
“Sure,” Morgan said.
“Come on now, promise me. Even if you have to pay for it out of my account, you do it, missy. From the looks of things, you’ve started filling back in from all the weight you lost while you were on the Fate of Dawn, but I know just as well as you how much more food you heavy gravity worlders need.”
Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle.
Case in point. “All right, Mom, I promise.”
Morgan called her that to tease her, but the truth was Gertrude was as much a mother to Morgan as she was friend, even if neither really talked about it. True, Morgan had been living on her own, and officially an adult, when they met, but the truth was she’d still been barely more than thirteen, in Earth years, and Gertrude’s influence had been incredibly important to her as she’d finished school and gotten her job with Takiyama.
Speaking of, Morgan thought as she ended the call, I think my birthday is coming up. Hard to keep track with all the different calendars, not that I know my actual birthday anyway. Let’s see, I was on Albion for about three Zion months, factor in the longer days…
…how about that, I’m officially eighteen now, by Earth’s calendar anyway. I guess that mean’s Haruhi is about to turn eight. I wonder if Gertrude has a party planned? Especially since we’ll all be here for once.
How old is that in Hillman years?
Morgan’s jovial mood, already a bit tenuous with the specter of whatever it was her boss wanted at the back of her mind, disappeared as she did the math.
Oh. Twelve. Haruhi’s twelve. Time to start training for the mines.
Goodness, was I that little when I started? Feels like a lifetime ago.
Shivering at the thought of such a happy and innocent little girl descending down into that dark pit, Morgan quickly closed the door to Haruhi’s bedroom and left entirely. Dista
nce didn’t completely work to banish the dark thought, but it did help.
Morgan knew there were plenty of restaurants on the station, but she’d never really gone to any of them, save a few times to celebrate something or another, so she didn’t know where to go to get some breakfast.
She finally settled for just finding what was open near the on-station offices for STEVE and heading there.
When she arrived, she figured she’d picked a good one by accident, given how packed it was. Briefly toying with the idea of finding another, she finally sighed and gave up.
The next might be even busier, and I’d have to find it first anyway. At least this place looks like it might have pancakes.
As she waited to be seated, she looked around at the various groups present. While there were the expected TMH employees, some she even recognized either vaguely by face or explicitly by their patches as working on STEVE, there was also a large group of families. Besides them, there was also a smattering of people obviously employed by the Aegis Mercenary Company, contracted by Takiyama to guard their ships.
At last a harried-looking woman approached, holding a flat uplink in her hands and a stylus tucked behind one ear.
“We’re quite full at the moment, Hun, but if you don’t mind sitting with one of the other singletons, I can fit you in now.”
Morgan did mind, she had never been one for idle chat with strangers, but she minded waiting just a hair more.
“That’s fine.”
Nodding, the hostess led her back toward the far end of the restaurant, to a table that had only a single mercenary seated.
His back was to her, which was fine with Morgan. That just meant she’d get to sit with her back to the wall where she could watch the exit. It wasn’t until she was sitting down that she got a look at his face, her body freezing with her rear halfway onto the padded bench.
“Well, looks like we meet again, Cutie. I’d accuse you of stalking me, only I know better, as much as it is a blow to my ego,” Sergeant Eck said with a wide smile that, for all its warmth, didn’t quite touch his eyes.
Running Black Page 3