NGâ€™s usual good humor was muted after that last stop stationside. A little can-hauler had towed the Varunastra â€“ minus an engine â€“ all the way, and NG had the fortune of spending a week among merchant crew that didnâ€™t want her there. That hadnâ€™t been the bad part though. NG was unlucky, everyone knew that. And merchanters hated anyone on their ship that wasnâ€™t merchanter, everyone knew that too.<br/><br/>No, it was the new generation of kids. Theyâ€™d forgotten the wars already, wars that didnâ€™t exist anymore in station time. But still raged silently on in the dark between ships that didnâ€™t know whose side they were on anymore. And people with names she recognized were doddering old men in their eighties and nineties now; they passed her by while sheâ€™d ridden waves of faster-than-light travel and time slowed to a crawl for her. To make matters worse, since her records had her still on her patrol route, her card was inactive, leaving her with no money. Even those things didnâ€™t bother her much because most of it wasnâ€™t her problem anymore.<br/><br/>But the damn kids who knew nothing were the first to betray their ignorance. Little ones stared in open awe. Older ones made mocking remarks like â€˜tres retroâ€™ in their baby-rab babble, and once a mean-eyed snot told her, â€œNever let the Corp-rats get you in your sleep, did you? Whole worldâ€™s plastic to the old-timers nowâ€¦â€ betraying some knowledge of the reason NG dressed like she did. At that time, NG had only been trying to enjoy some peace and a bite of lunch, so she waved the boy off with, â€œGo run back tâ€™yer maman.â€<br/><br/>All because NG braided shiny clips and beads into her hair sometimes and wore the bright colors and outlandish decorations of an old planet-side political movement. In her defense, there was little else to do out in the Void. Once the captain had asked to see her that had changed; cut short, mousey brown, and professionally presentable again.<br/><br/>Human space bordered Lthkk space â€“ those utterly incomprehensible methane breathers â€“ making piracy and smuggling rife. It was bad enough that they couldnâ€™t be communicated with extensively enough to make lane approaches and docking procedures clear at Human stations, but the aliens didnâ€™t seem to really understand the concept of legal and illegal trade. People took advantage of that and sold Lthkk whatever they could get their hands on in return for the chance at something truly valuable. Lthkk didnâ€™t understand human concepts of value either, and occasionally a dedicated smuggler could get something honestly useful out of a trade for junk. And the Lthkk themselves would sometimes take a Human ship and leave behind free floating debris of substantially less than even the worth of the ship and cargo, not to mention the lives of the crew.<br/><br/>NG knew all this but was no happier about being assigned to that empty quadrant of space. It was an eight month route and alone. The shipâ€™s AI was company of a sort, but not exactly the type she relished. Now, three months in, she was intolerably boredâ€¦<br/><br/>Vari, the shipâ€™s computer, tracked a fast moving blip and in the picoseconds it took to process that information, it was too late for much to be done about it.