Old Hands Together

Exploration Squadron 5
Kleine Stetten Orbital Station
Stettin System
deWulf Corporate Navy

“Klaus! Fancy seeing you here!”

“Well it was either this or go back to corporate life.”

The two Lancers burst out laughing at the idea, hands clapping upon one another in greeting. Traffic thinly flowed around them in the concourse, mostly headed towards the core of the station and away from the docking piers. Announcements and warnings bleated faintly, just loud enough to rise above the general noise if someone chose to pay attention.

“And you’re just that eager to avoid a desk.”

“Breaker” Klaus sighed. “It’s a short list of things I won’t do to stay out of the desk farm…”

Holf laughed heartily, clapping a hand back on his shoulder “A good thing all you have to do is extend your contract!” The laughter rolled on for a few more beats before it came to a halt. “Now that I’ve found you, perhaps I can get your help…”

A head cocked to the side slightly, eyes opening in curiosity.

“I’ve been going up and down this bremsen concourse for the last two hours, and I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.”

“Well, where are you supposed to be going?”

“Hrf… let me see…” grumbled Holf as he pulled out his pad and pulled up a message “here, maybe this makes more sense to you.”

Klaus took the offered pad and looked at the assignment packet. Standard machine-block lettering and terse instructions were standard, as was the occasionally inscrutable ‘instruction’ that rarely provided the desired assistance. If someone understood the way that the deWulf Navy’s administrative systems worked and thought, a user could pull additional information seemingly out of thin air. But such skills were hard won, usually by only a few whose innate thought patterns lined up with the system.

Which is why Klaus’s skills were in such high demand. And why his corporate life was persistently denied promotion into a true managerial billet. But the Corporate Navy had no such qualms. Eyes darted back and forth, absorbing every instruction and detail, feeding it to the sharp mind that rested just behind. Eventually his attention focused in on part of the ‘instruction’, a short jumble of letters that attempted to be a sentence.

“Ahh. Now I understand” he spoke with the air of a student finally understanding the question. “Arrive upper concourse A, transit to lower concourse A and go to docking arm 14.”
“How you understand any of that is a miracle.”
“Thank you. That’ll be five kett, please.”
“Charging for your efforts now?”
A sharp, playful laugh rolled back “Peacetime navy now, we have budgets to think about!”

They were soon both laughing cleanly, the stress and six months of separation gone, just like that.

“So how do we get down to Lower A, then?”
“You’ll be happy to know my translation services come with a guide.”
Holf walked just a few meters down the concourse, waving as he turned behind a display board. Klaus followed, discovering a bank of lifts just out of the main flow of traffic. A door chimed and slid open, welcoming them in.

“That, and I need to get to lower A as well. We’ll have to shift over to the lower A lift system in the central transit hall of course, but this beats walking.”

The car itself waited until their portable lockers floated in behind them, the door slipping back closed with that same soft chime. Its movement was almost unnoticeable as it moved back from the doors and into the routing shaft that first flew along Concourse A’s spine before diving into the guts of the station. Even a small orbital station was a massive construct, and while one could have walked from any one place to any other, it was never a voluntary choice.

The noise of the central transit hall filtered into the car as it slowed down to its stop. Bulkheads and systems dulled the sounds, but nothing short of vacuum could have silenced the dull rumble that typified a busy meeting point.

“Still, I haven’t forgotten I still owe you a drink. Follow me, there’s a good Knep here.”
Holf led them out into the hall, past a few ornamental plants and seats tucked out of the flow of traffic.
“I love these newer stations” continued Holf “Someone finally figured out that you’re going to have people idling and meeting here, so it’s not just a big empty room. Layout’s still nice and open, but it’s got a bit more reason to be here.”
Klaus followed along in Holf’s wake, cutting into a lane of shops and kiosks off the main path before coming to a short escalator to a plaza above the main floor of the hall.

“How do you know the Knep’s any good?”
“Know the owner. Retired a little bit after Second Elysium, decided they had enough of war. They’re not onboard right now, some family thing has them back in Velland.”
Holf flashed two fingers at the front counter, his tablet kissing the data reader. The attendant was already turning around, pulling their drinks.
“So you haven’t been here?”
Holf scoffed “Elli grew up in this business. Navy work was just something to keep their family off their back. See? Quality.”
Two broad cups were already there, a thin bit of steam coming off the turquoise liquid.
“Let’s sit over there-” Klaus tilted his head over at a quiet part of the Knep, two chairs and a table looking over part of the hall below “and we can work out where to go next.”

Klaus led the way this time, holding a drink in one hand and his tablet in the other. A ping let him know that his portable locker had gotten into a secure storage rack just below, waiting for him to be done. Settling into his seat, he found himself looking over the crowd that flowed through the hall.

“Isn’t that Ockender? Senior Sensors Ockender?”
Holf set his drink down, looking in the direction that Klaus was gesturing. “Yeah… that’s Ockender. And look behind him. See the Master Lancer?”
“You mean the one who looks like he just got hit by a hover truck?”
“That’s Lerck.”
“Breaker, you’re right. I didn’t recognize him immediately. How did he even get his engineer’s stripes?”
“Fell upwards, I understand.” Holf took a sip, shuddering as he felt the warm liquid course down his throat.

Klaus just watched the crowds, taking a long pull of his own drink and watching the passers-by. “You know…”
“Mmm?”
“I think that all our old crew are headed to that bank of lifts.” Klaus pointed to a column of lifts in the far corner of the atrium.
“Oh. That’s the lift bank that goes to lower A.”
He looked into his cup, the liquid already cooled almost past what was proper. His eyes closed, memories flying by almost too fast to recognize.
“Let’s not keep them waiting.” Klaus stood up from his seat, bouncing his glass off of Holf’s before tilting his own back, drinking the rest in a single gulp. Holf took a final sip before leaving his glass behind half empty before following Klaus.
Past the front counter. Down the escalator. And to the lifts that led to lower A and the unknown future.