Helena, sitting in Jocelyn’s suite, switched off her camera and looked at her.

“Are you really sure you want to be telling me all of this?” she asked.

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t be telling you, dear.”

“Why now?”

“Oh, I’m old, tired and time is getting short,” Jocelyn said with a little smile.

“You keep saying that. What exactly the fuck is going on?”

“What do you think of when I say the word ‘raider’?” Jocelyn asked.

“Um…” Helena said taken somewhat aback. “You mean like the Red-Teeth or the Long Shanks?”

“Yes, that’s what most think of when that word comes up. There were plenty of groups like them back in the days of the Sol Wars. They were pretty tough but they didn’t scare me,” Jocelyn said with faraway eyes. “Groups like that were loud and sloppy. You could see them coming. You could also pay them off or simply intimidate them. They didn’t like taking on a real fight. They just preyed on the weak. There was another type of raider though, one that terrified me.”

“Really? What were they?”

“Remember when I said that war was a distant memory?” Jocelyn asked. “Even so every nation and a lot of the major corporations had standing armies. They were different than today’s Federation, Republic, and Imperial forces though.”

“Different how?” Helena asked as she switched the camera back on.

“The armies were much smaller, much better trained, and much better equipped. They were more like special forces than normal soldiers. We didn’t have wars but every now and then something needed to be done. When that happened we sent in maybe a platoon or two, not thousands. When everything went to hell these forces found themselves without a chain of command, support, and in very short order even without nations. Some fought the good fight and some made a real difference but a lot of them went to work for themselves.”

Jocelyn looked up at Helena.

“Those guys were terrifying. They were extremely skilled, well equipped, and knew exactly what they were doing. A group went to bed one night and the next morning all the guards were dead and whatever they wanted was gone… If you were lucky. I know about them first hand.”

“You do?”

“Remember when I said I tried to do something but it was too late? After a couple of years I couldn’t live with myself any longer and opened up my shelter. I had a little food left, a good fusion reactor, and some good people in there with me. We managed to get a tiny settlement going with a greenhouse or two and some of the survivors we gathered had learned some tricks that helped us survive,” Jocelyn said with a sad smile. “We were slowly growing and finding more survivors but about a year after I opened up the settlement we attracted the attention of a group of former elite soldiers turned raiders. One evening we all went to bed like we always do and the next morning… they owned us. All of my guards were dead and there they were standing over the pile of bodies,” Jocelyn said as she shook her head.

“Oh Jesus...”

“The locks, the guards, the weapons, the sensors, all of it didn’t matter. They just walked in and took over. For the rest of the Sol Wars, they were in charge,” Jocelyn said as she walked over and poured them both a drink. “They used us as a base of operations as they sortied out taking whatever they wanted. We were lucky though,” she said as she took a drink, “They were professionals. They didn’t abuse us or rape us or anything like that. As long as you did what they said and followed their rules you were safe. If you crossed them...” Jocelyn drew a single finger across her throat. “After our crops started to come in they stopped raiding as much and just farmed. Well we did the farming but you get the idea,” she laughed. “It’s funny but by the end we came to regard them quite highly.”

“You did? Why?”

“We were safe, dear,” Jocelyn said with a chuckle. “We were incredibly well protected. Those men and women were killers. They were tough, certainly, but quite fair. You followed the rules and pulled your weight, you had food, shelter, and protection. We really weren’t working that much harder than we were before they showed up and they slaughtered raids like they were nothing. Any of one of those raids could have wiped us out. They kept us safe and we kept them fed. I still keep in touch with a few of them. Two are actually on my payroll.”

“What?!”

“Hey, I know for a fact how good they are and it never hurts to have… options… if necessary,” Jocelyn chuckled. “I am porkie scum after all.”

“Wait, if they took everything how are you so filthy rich now?”

“I’m a good businesswoman. The tale of me rebuilding my fortune can wait, though. I’m telling you this story to answer a question, remember?”

“Wait… Do you mean...”

“Yes, dear. We have raiders on this ship,” Jocelyn said as she looked at Helena with her ancient eyes. “Real ones, like the ones I just talked about.”

“W-when you called Paul my ‘raider boyfriend’ did you mean he’s one of them?”

Jocelyn simply nodded. “And that flaxen friend of his too. They are slick but they can’t hide how they move, especially when they are together. It’s like watching panthers prowling about. I’ve only seen a certain type of person move exactly like they do. They hide it well but these old eyes aren’t fooled easily.”

“But a flaxen?”

“Oh yes dear, a flaxen,” she chuckled. “Here’s a bit of trivia for you. Did you know that not every flaxen is a porkie?”

“No. Really?”

“Some of the flaxen turned on their families during the Sol Wars and betrayed them siding instead with the people of Mars during their overthrow. In fact, without those flaxen the Mars Rebellion would have likely never happened.”

“You think she’s a Terran?”

“I would bet a million credits on it,” Jocelyn smiled. “She reminds me of someone I used to know. I bet she's related to them.”

“That means you think that Paul is too...”

“Afraid so, dear. You asked him which branch he was in but never which side he was on. He’s elite military who has been fighting for years, longer than any Federation human would have cause to. The flaxen woman as well, both of them. They are exactly like the people that took over my settlement, I mean exactly like them.”

“Have you tried telling anyone about this?”

Jocelyn just laughed.

“I was politely laughed out of the security chief’s office. He just thought I was a senile old bat having a flashback. It happens you know. He just went on and on about the one-hundred and fifty armed guards, all of them former marines, the security systems, the automatic blast doors every fifty feet or less, the automatic turrets… and everything else. He said that nothing can possibly happen,” Jocelyn laughed ruefully and shook her head. “I tried to tell him that it doesn’t matter to these people. He just laughed and said that all they would do, if I was actually right, would be to get themselves arrested or killed… The idiot. He didn’t even listen when I tried to tell him who they were. Mark my words, something is definitely going to go down on this ship.”

“Are you sure?” Helena asked not wanting to believe it, “I mean really sure, like one hundred percent sure?”

“Well, everyone can be wrong but I really don’t think that I am this time. I’ve seen this before.”

“But, are you sure?”

Jocelyn just sighed and patted Helena’s hand.

“Maybe we can get another interview in before lunch?”

“But, I don’t get it,” Helena said in confusion, “If you are so sure that something bad is going to happen then why are you still here? Wouldn’t you have gotten the hell off this ship?”

“I’m old, tired, and bored,” Jocelyn said, “I also hope that maybe I can help, make a difference somehow. I’ve dealt with these sorts before. I’ve outgrown the cowardice of my youth, dear, and this might be my last chance to do something real before I shuffle off this mortal coil, one final chance to atone for my sins.”

“You think you are going to die? Is that it?”

Jocelyn just smiled a tired little smile.

“Now let me tell you about a little insider trading...”

“No. No no no no no… no. I’m not taking advantage of you in this state.”

“Exactly what sort of reporter are you?” Jocelyn laughed.

***

Roberts was strolling along the promenade with Chalya on his arm. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Helena today. Maybe she left. Maybe she got on that launch and is away from this soon to be hellhole. He sighed a sigh of relief.

“You seem to be in a good mood today, Roberts,” Chalya said smiling at him.

“Yeah, feeling pretty good. You might have something to do with that,” He said as he smiled at her.

Chalya smiled back. He was pretty torn up yesterday and it took a lot of TLC to get him to actually smile again. It was nice to see him bounce back. Depressed, heartbroken clients were a real downer. Besides, he seemed like a really nice guy. She had no idea what went down between him and that brunette but damn, it must have been nasty.

She was feeling a little bold and paused next to a jewelry shop window.

“Hey, want to go inside?” Roberts asked.

“If you want...” she smiled.

***

Later over lunch Chalya mused over the strange jewelry shop visit. He looked like he was all ready to buy her something nice… really nice... but then he just said that he would grab it for her later. Normally that was a hollow promise but for some reason she thought he was serious. Weird.

While they were pleasantly making small talk Roberts’ face twitched and he fell silent. Chalya followed his gaze and lo and behold, it was that fucking brunette with some old woman. Fuck. She could see his good mood just fizzle. She really hoped it wouldn’t be a repeat of yesterday. The money is nice but there is only so much heartbreak and drama that she could stand.

She tried to capture Roberts’ attention and her efforts seemed to be rewarded. He just smiled and resumed their pleasant lunchtime conversation.

***

The next few days passed without much new happening. Chalya took good care of her client, who seemed to perk right back up and happily showed him a good time in more ways than one. She was really enjoying this contract. He was nice. It was good to see that he seemed to finally get over that brunette. He hardly paid her any attention even when she was just fucking staring at them. It was really fucking annoying. Back in the day she would have been tempted to drag her ass into a corridor and cut that bitch but these days a cool contemptuous glance would have to suffice.

Now the bitch she really wanted to cut was that flaxen cunt. Not a day would go by without that bitch showing up like a wet fart. She asked Roberts about her but all he would say was that she was a friend and they needed to talk about business for a bit. She knew what that meant, don’t ask questions. She really didn’t want to the details anyway. All she really wanted to know to know is whether or not that the bitch was competition. She wasn’t but Chalya could tell that deep down, she wanted to be. Yeah, good luck with that, bitch.

Her days were pretty good. He always said that he would ‘pick it up later’ when she saw something that caught her eye but as far as food and drink went this was a nice assignment. Roberts had excellent taste. He probably spent more at restaurants and bars than he did on her contract which is saying something.

The only problem was sometimes at night he would thrash or yelp or just sit bolt upright in a sweat and then go pour himself a drink, sit in a chair, and look at his tablet. She had seen that before. An old boyfriend was like that after the Federation War. It made her nervous but Roberts never seemed like he was going to freak out or hit her or anything which was a big relief. He would just get up in the middle of the night and drink. She would pretend to stay asleep, not moving, until he came back to bed. As far as clients and their quirks go that was pretty minor. At least he wasn’t into anything weird.

She wondered what he saw at night however she knew better than to ask questions. Based on their little scene, prying is what probably got that brunette’s “contract” canceled. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake. Some clients want you to coax them into talking. Others don’t. Roberts didn’t, thank God. She was pretty sure she really didn’t want to encounter whatever demons he had locked away.

Still, she did feel a little bad for him. He was nice.

***

“Paper Tiger to Lucky Strike… Paper Tiger to Lucky Strike...” Sheila said into a microphone.

“This is Lucky Strike. Go ahead Sheila.” Logan replied.

“Good, you are here. Ready for the final jump?”

“You know it baby-girl.”

“Ugh... You know the plan. Jump into the outside of the system and wait for their signal. Cloak on. Complete silence until you hear from me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it. We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Yup. Get ready, sweet-cheeks. This is it until we land. Good-luck,” Sheila said into the microphone and turned to T’sunk’al.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Just say the word. Drives are warmed up, capacitor bank is charged, and the co-ordinates are already set.”

Sheila sat down into her captain’s chair and grinned.

“Punch it,” She said happily.

***

“Hey, ginger-snap,” Gloria said to Chalya as she approached, “Go powder your snatch or whatever it is you people do.”

Without a word Chalya walked off. If looks could kill Gloria would be spread evenly across the promenade.

“Happy Saturday, killer,” Gloria said with a grin. “Ready for your big night?”

“Christ,” Roberts grumbled, “I’ve been ready for days.”

“Cool beans,” Gloria replied, “My little piggie is going to give me a tour of the bridge in the morning, as close to zero eight-hundred as I can make it. Shouldn’t take me more than a couple of minutes to hook everything up. I’ll send you a signal when I’m patched in.”

“Great. I’ll ‘sober-up’ around that time. Reviewing the cell schematics I should be able to pop the latch no problem. After I take care of security I’ll move towards the docking bay to link up with the team. Let me know where the stragglers are and I’ll pop them if I can.”

“Sounds solid, killer, but save some for the hired help,” Gloria chuckled.

“I have a few issues I would like to take out on some porkie hide.”

“That’s the Roberts I know and love! I’ll try to save you some.”

“Good deal. See you tomorrow.”

“Later, killer.”

***

After a wonderful evening, Chalya and Roberts were relaxing at their favorite bar. Chalya was starting to get a little concerned. Roberts was really hitting the sauce and was rapidly not becoming his usual happy-drunk self. It was starting to get a little ugly.

“Um… Roberts, darling, don’t you think you’ve had enough, love?” Chalya asked with polite concern.

“No. No I haven’t. Get off my fucking back,” Roberts snarled.

Chalya raised an eyebrow. It was going to get ugly. There was going to be a scene. She hated scenes.

“Give me another!” he called to the barkeep.

Chalya tried to discretely get the bartender’s attention and failed.

“Helena...” Roberts muttered.

“Who, love?” Chalya replied.

“Fucking Helena… Why did she have to be what she is?” Roberts grumbled.

“Who’s Helena?”

“You know… Helena! The hugger!”

“Oh...” Chalya replied. Shit. Here we go. This guy was about to go fucking Yellowstone.

“...” Roberts trailed off into silence as he guzzled another drink.

Chalya just sat there silently planning the fastest route towards the door.

“Why did she have to write that shit?” Roberts grumbled.

“Write what?”

“That shit! That… fucking bullshit… that she wrote… bullshit!”

“Yes, bullshit,” Chalya replied uncertainly. Oh this was going to be bad.

“Hey… hey hey hey… yoooou don’t talk about her like that!” Roberts shouted. “She’s fucking brilliant! Goddamn brillliant… fuck… fucking bullshit!”

“Yeeeaaahhh,”

“You don’t know… don’t know how brilliant she is! So smart! God! And funny! And… wonderful...”

“Mmm-hmm” Chalya replied rolling her eyes despite herself.

“So wonderful… Fuck! Why did she have to be here? Why here, Chalya? Why?”

“I don’t know, love.”

“Don’t use that word, love… yooou don’t love me…” Roberts said pointing a finger at her. “Now Helena… Helena loves me… why? Why does she do that? Why, Chalya?”

“Um…”

“But she does, Chalya… she fucking loves me… what the fuck, Chalya? Why would she do that to me? We were having such a nice time… such a nice time… why?”

Chalya didn’t respond save for inching away from him. Oh this was going to be messy. Then again, sweeping up the pieces will be another nice payday or two…

“Why me of all people?” Roberts asked, “God, if she had any idea, any idea what I am really like…”

“You seem nice to me,” Chalya ventured despite yourself. “You are a really nice-”

“That’s my job here, being nice… But deep down… not nice… nope.”

“All of us are not nice deep inside,” Chalya said. “all of us.”

“But especially me,” Roberts said morosely, “That’s why I can’t… can’t let myself fall… oh shit… I can’t… It wouldn’t be right… I couldn’t do that to her...”

“Do what?”

“Love her back that’s fucking what!” Roberts shouted. “I don’t… I can’t…”

You do, Chalya thought as she sighed. Poor guy…

“What would be so bad about that?” Chalya asked.

“Oooooohhhh you’ll see.”

“I’ll see what?”

Suddenly Roberts looked up at her with oddly clear eyes for a moment.

“Chalya, you are a good person and wonderful company but I think it would be best if you took the night off.”

“Are you sure?” Chalya asked in alarm. Usually that meant no more contract.

“Yeah, just for tonight. I’m not in a good place and you really should be somewhere else.”

“I don’t mind. I can-”

“I said take the night off.” Roberts said with a cold gleam in his eyes.

Chalya just quietly stood up. It was definitely time to go.

“Well you know where to find me,” she said and walked away.

Roberts smiled to himself. He needed her to split. She probably knew people in security and would be able to defuse the situation, keep him out of trouble, exactly what he didn’t need. He continued to drink until the bartender eventually cut him off.

It’s about fucking time, Roberts thought. He had begun to having to resort to “accidentally” spilling some of his drinks to keep from actually becoming blackout drunk.

He threw a fit, big one. Security was called. Words were exchanged. Stun batons were drawn. Roberts broke a guard’s nose. Roberts got zapped. Roberts got hauled off to security.