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RSI.com The Shipyard: SCU and Cargo Capacity

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SCU and Cargo Capacity

A Guide to the New Ship Matrix

Greetings Citizens!

One of the exciting new features coming online with Star Citizen ALpha 3.0 and beyond is the ability for ships to ferry cargo. This presents a world of opportunity for players to pilot ships beyond combat as we hope to provide interesting alternatives and very real ways for players to earn an honest (or perhaps dishonest…) day’s pay. Buying and selling commodities from stations and transporting them across civilized space to the people who need it most (or willing to pay the most for it) we hope will encourage many players to take up a career as a Transporter.

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The Transporter playstyle comes with an entirely new way for players to consider which ships they want to fly. Cargo capacity becomes one of the most important considerations when judging which ship to use. Highest SCU capacities may seem like no-brainers when looking to pick the best cargo ship, but many of the larger vessels eschew defensive capabilities like thicker armor, more weapon mounts, or faster engines for that greater cargo space and can be left exposed as a result. Your decisions at this stage may ultimately lead to the great rewards, or even greater catastrophes.

Cargo ships come in all shapes and sizes, but consider which trade routes are available to you before deciding. A Hull-C can carry an impressive amount of freight but its defensive options are extremely limited. Hull pilots will need to employ fighter escorts or travel in convoy in hopes to deter would-be pirates from accosting them. Ships like the Caterpillar and Starfarer offer more defense and maneuverability at the cost of cargo space. If your trade route takes you to frontier worlds where fringers play fast and loose with the law, you’re going to be thankful you have something up your sleeves to make a ship-jacker think twice. Smaller ships like the Cutlass have a decent amount of SCU capacity for short runs but more importantly, the combat acumen to go toe-to-toe with aggressors and protect its precious cargo.

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Knowing not only the amount of cargo that needs to be taken but the route that cargo will take should help a discerning pilot make the right choice about which transporter is right for them. Of course, the more “entrepreneurial” trader may also want to consider whether they need to avoid any… imperial entanglements.

As more and more legitimate trade routes expand across the systems, so too will the number of pirates looking take what isn’t theirs. Similarly, as new colonies start to become established and will need deliveries of restricted weapons to defend themselves against marauders, so too will back-alley dealers need a steady supply of illegal stims and narcotics. Whatever the story, willing Transporters are going to needed for smuggling cargo under the nose of law enforcement from time to time. We want to make sure that gameplay is involving, fun, and more than a little bit nerve-wracking. Smugglers have a range of techniques available to them to sneak their cargo by authorities, from simply not declaring it, through making specific goods appear to be something else, and right up to masking them completely so they won’t appear on scans at all. Judging a ship for its smuggling capabilities is another consideration when it comes to picking the right ship for the right job which we’ll cover below.



Commodities and Units and SCU, Oh My!

When the player buys a commodity, they do so in amounts of ‘Units’. “Give me thirty units of beans” one might say. Likewise, when buying weapons, equipment and other things, they all have a numerical size attribute that governs how many ‘units’ they take up. These values are essential in figuring out how players store and transport their goods, which brings us to the Unit’s big brother: SCU.

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A Standard Cargo Unit, or SCU, is the universal measure for cargo storage and transport measurements. 1 SCU will be our standard box, the size of which all other boxes are measured. We wanted a universal unit so that when we say a ship has space for 100 SCU, you’ll come to know just how many containers you’ll be able to fit. More than just using 1m3, we want to make sure we can group the commodity with the container. In terms of metrics, 1 SCU comes in at 1.25m3 which is 1m3 of cargo space with 125mm protection on each side and a lid. When we have our refrigerated containers, biohazard containers, potentially livestock containers in later releases, it allows us to use that 125mm edge for extra protection or bespoke construction without losing the internal cargo space. So, as the name suggests, our cargo is universally sized, regardless of what kind of container you come across.

1 SCU can hold 100 units before its full. Since 1 SCU is the smallest sized storage container, this mean buying 1 unit of beans or 100 units of beans, the same 1 SCU of Beans will be delivered into the cargo hold. As you can probably imagine, the 101st unit of Beans that is purchased means that beans are now occupying 2 SCU in the cargo hold. The more efficient traders will want to round off their cargo to the nearest 100 if they can. It’s also worth noting that players cannot mix commodities in the same SCU Crate, so half filling 1 SCU with Beans doesn’t mean they can fill the other half with Pork and save on space, Pork will be stored in its own SCU crate. Any additional units of Pork or Beans that are bought will be added into the existing SCUs, though. This will allow players to work at fixing their inefficient cargo holds and getting the most from their space.

Since weapons and equipment have a unit size attributed to them too, it allows players to buy SCU-sized Storage Crates allowing them to secure their equipment and weapons safely on the grid, rather than just leave them loosely around the ship.



The Numbers Game or: My Ship’s Place in All This
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When it comes to deciding on a ship’s cargo capacity, we have to think about what role we see that ship occupying within the Star Citizen universe.

We have entry level ships that have been given a limited amount of cargo space. The idea here is that players will be able to buy these ships cheap and once they’re making regular cargo runs with a full hold, should be able to afford going bigger. The Auroras and Reliants in these cases are designed to give players a taste of the Transporter career without breaking the bank to get involved, and should they like it they can go bigger.

Other ships have cargo capacity without them being considered a ‘cargo ship’-per se. These are vessels we simply think players would expect to be able to transport a bit of cargo through. These ships are usually not taking full advantage of the space but have an area put aside for storage, like the Hornet or Mustang.

Then we have the dedicated cargo ships whose cargo holds are as squared off as we can get them to be able to utilize as much space as possible while still maintaining structural integrity. We’re talking Freelancers, Starfarers, Caterpillars, and the Hull Series to name only a few. These ships have their cargo space determined a balance of cost and performance.

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When it comes to determining where a cargo ship sits in relation to another, we look at its speed and combat proficiency, and make a judgement about what kind of capacity fits with that kind of ship. A classic pairing would be the Freelancer opposed to the Cutlass. The Freelancer has sacrificed some combat and maneuvering ability to be able to haul more goods. Looking at the new Cutlass it can hold its own in a fight and even go on the offensive if needed, but at a cost of cargo space. We want players to make a judgement what kind of cargo ship is right for the specific job. Where will they be taking goods? How fast do they need to get there? How much is needed to fulfill the order? We’re endeavoring to make certain no two cargo ships are providing the exact same role. Even in the specialized field of cargo transportation, there can be even more specialization depending on the routes, danger and even commodities themselves that the player wishes to transport.

We’re doing what we can to ensure that cargo space is also logistically sensible. Cargo squeezed into every nook and cranny of the ship might seem like a win for the player on a numerical side, but the act of loading and unloading will become a pain or even impossible with high ceilings and small doorways. The advantage of the Caterpillar with it’s huge doors will not always be structurally sound for other cargo ships. There may be instances where some ships have potentially ‘useable’ space left over.



Packing for the Job You Have, and for the Job You Want
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Overloading a ship with more cargo is certainly something a lot of pilots have asked for, and its something we’re going to support. Because cargo will be able to be lifted and placed by hand, the player won’t need a cargo grid underneath them in order to place it, meaning they can release those commodities anywhere. We encourage players to want to store their cargo securely though, otherwise a myriad of additional challenges may await you.

The more you carry, the more mass you’re trying to move around, the more adverse your ship’s efficiency is going to be. If you’re exceeding mass recommendations with loose cargo just placed wherever you’re going to throw out a ship’s interior balance and place more strain on thrusters of one side than the other. The flight system will do it’s best to compensate, but expect to burn through fuel a lot faster and risk additional component wear-and-tear than at an optimized weight.

Additionally, as we develop our physics for internal behavior we are looking at room temperature, atmospherics and other forces to act upon the player and when cargo isn’t secure, these systems will act upon that, as well. Future updates will see inertial forces act upon a ship so that every bump or a bang from combat, re-entry, quantum jumps etc. will knock around anything unsecureed in the cargo hold, potentially causing it to suffer damage. While the extent of damage remains to be seen, expect some loss of integrity of the goods you’re shipping if not being stored appropriately. Also: keep an eye on any loose cargo if someone opens an airlock, too. With nothing keeping it in place, your goods will find themselves at the mercy of any decompression suffered.



The True Purpose of Keeping Cargo Off Grids
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Smuggling is one of the next big features we will be adding to the Cargo System and is something we’re excited for players to take advantage of. Goods that will be secured in place on the cargo grid will also be considered ‘declared’ on the ship’s cargo manifest. What this means is that when players go through customs checkpoints in the future, or are encountered by law enforcement out in the space lanes, their manifest will be broadcast like a trucker handing over a clipboard, declaring what’s inside their hold that everything is above board.

This will allow a player to be able to make a conscious effort not to declare an item as well, by deliberately leaving it off the grid. As highlighted beforehand, a box left in a passageway risks unbalancing a ship, over-weighing it and rattling around in the back, but once the smuggling system comes online, players have a plus side in that it’s not broadcast to others as part of the manifest. A player who wants to slip a crate full of contraband through customs will be able to do so simply by leaving it off the grid and avoiding transmitting its details to a passing police officer.

Of course, the police wouldn’t be doing their job properly if they just believed what every trucker told them, so they will be scanning ships on occasion to confirm what the transporter is ferrying, whether it is on the grid or not. To combat this, we’ll be allowing smugglers to add additional technology to their SCU crates such as ‘scramblers’ that will make it harder to detect, or something we’re calling ‘spoofers’ to make a container appear as something else altogether.

It’s unlikely any smuggler trickery will be able to stand up to sustained scanning forever though, so if the player finds themselves under continued scrutiny from the law, or maybe even a pirate looking to relieve them of their precious cargo, unless they have the best gear on the black market to respond with, it may be worth thinking about finding a new line of work. This won’t be a life for the meek.



Frequently Asked Questions

or: Questions We Figured You Might Have




The Reclaimer originally sold with 2,500 SCU and now it’s listed as 360. Where did the cargo space go?

A: As part of our update to the listings, we now refer to a ship’s ‘Cargo Capacity’ as its ‘usable’ cargo space for storing and transporting commodities and other items. For the Reclaimer, the majority of its internal space is dedicated exclusively to storing the salvage it has gathered. Since we don’t want to misrepresent the ship to potential buyers, we list the Reclaimer as having ‘only’ 360 SCU of Cargo Capacity. Our hope is that players looking for their next cargo ship have a much clearer understanding of the actual ‘usable’ cargo space.

Players should expect the same for listings on mining ships like the Orion and Prospector too. These ships dedicate most of their previously listed SCU space to storing and processing the metals, crystals, and minerals they gather through mining operations, so players will see their ‘Cargo Capacity’ number go down compared to what it may have previously been listed at.

Rest assured, the space has gone nowhere, it’s just better labelled now so players know exactly what they’re getting.


Further Reading


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      She watched him squirm. It wasn’t like him to wrestle with his conscience. Frankly, she was disappointed to learn that he’d found one.
      “If Rhedd Alert won’t withdraw willingly,” she said, “then they will have to fail the hard way. Prep the ships, Rie­beld. We have done very well together, you and I. You should know that I won’t back away from what is mine.” He seemed to appreciate her sincerity, but Brock wanted to hear the cocksure salesman say it. “Are we clear?”
      “Yes, ma’am,” Riebeld swallowed and stood. “Perfectly clear.”
      “Any luck?” Walt pulled up Barry’s record in his mobiGlas and hit connect.
      Dell sat at the hangar console trying to reach Gavin and the team. Her brow furrowed in a grimace and she shook her head.
      “Damn. Okay, keep trying.”
      Barry connected. The accountant wore his uniform. He was on duty, wherever he was, and his projected face looked genuinely mournful. “Hey,” he said, “long time no see, man. Listen, I can’t tell you how sad I am about Boomer.”
      “Thanks.” Barry had known Dell and Boomer for most his life. He’d probably been torn between attending the service and allowing the family to grieve in privacy. Regardless, commiseration would have to wait. “We need your help, Barry. Please tell me that you have access to the propos­als for the Tyrol contract.”
      “Of course I do. And who’s we? Are you back with Dell and Gavin?”
      “I am,” he felt Dell’s eyes on him when he said it. “Anyway, we need a favor. I need to know the ship models and con­figurations proposed by the incumbent.”
      “Morgan Brock’s outfit, sure. No can do on the ship data, though. That information is all confidential. Only the price proposals are available for public review, and those only during the protest period.”
      “Come on, Barry. We’re not talking trade secrets here. I could figure this out with a fly-by of their hangar in Kilian. I just don’t have time for that. I need to know what ships those guys fly.”
      Barry breathed out a heavy sigh, “Hold on. But I can’t send you the proposals, okay? You guys are already on thin ice with this contract as is.”
      “Tell me about it. And thanks, I owe you huge for this.”
      Walt waited, throat dry. He scratched at a chipped edge on his worn mobiGlas with a fingernail.
      “All right,” Barry read from something off-screen, “it looks like they’re flying a variety of Hornets. Specifically, F7As. I can send you a list of the proposed hardpoints, and I hap­pen to know that Brock herself flies a Super Hornet.”
      The mobiGlas shook on Walt’s wrist. His face felt hot, and he forced his jaw to relax. “Barry, if you have any pull with the Navy, get some ships to Tyrol. It’s been Brock this whole time. She’s been setting us up to fail. And she’s the bitch that OK’d Boomer.”
      “I’m going, Walt. That’s final.”
      Walt rubbed at his eyes with the flat part of his fingers. How did Gavin ever win an argument her? Forbidding her involvement was a lost cause. Maybe he could reason with her. “Listen. When’s the last time you were even in a cockpit?”
      “I know this ship. I was practically born in these things.”
      “Dell —”
      She threw his helmet at him. He caught it awkwardly, and she had shed her coveralls and was wriggling into her flight suit before he could finish his thought. She stared at him with hard eyes and said, “Suit up if you don’t want to get left behind.”
      Dell was as implacable as gravity. Fine. It was her funeral, and he realized there was no way his brother had ever won an argument with her.
      They finished prepping in silence. Walt pulled the chocks on her Avenger when she climbed up into the cockpit. He gave the hulking muzzle of the Tarantula an appreciative pat. “You have ammo for this bad boy?”
      “I have a little.”
      “Good,” he smiled. “Let’s hope Brock isn’t ready to handle reinforcements.”
      Walt mulled that thought over. It was true that Gavin had split their team in each fight, but Rhedd Alert had never sent in reserves. Each engagement had been a fair and straightforward fight. Brock wasn’t likely to know anything about their resources, however limited, beyond the escort team. That could work to their advantage.
      In fact, “Hey, Dell. Hop out for a tick, will you?”
      “Like hell I will.” The look she shot down at him was pure challenge. “I said I’m going and that’s that.”
      “Oh, no. I’ve already lost that fight. But you and your cannon here got me thinking about those pirates in Oberon. Tell me, did we ever find a buyer for that old Idris hull?”
      “No. It’s buoyed in storage outside the station, why?”
      Dell looked at him skeptically and he grinned. “We’re going to introduce these military-types to
      some ol’ smugglers’ tricks.”
      Gavin held the team at the edge of the jump gate between Min and Nexus. “All right gang, listen up. You know the drill and what might be waiting for us on the other side. Jazza, I want you and Rahul up on point for this jump. I’ll bring Cassiopeia over after you and the rest of the team are in. Anyone not ready to jump?”
      His team was silent as they arranged themselves into position with professional precision. The pilot aboard Cassiopeia sounded the ready and Gavin sent Jazza through. The others were hard on her heels, and Gavin felt the always-peculiar drop through the mouth of the jump gate.
      Light and sound stretched, dragging him across the inter­space. Another drop, a moment’s disorientation, and then Nexus resolved around him.
      Without warning, Mei’s fighter flashed past his forward screen. Incandescent laser fire slashed along the ghost grey and fire-alarm red ship, crippling Mei’s shields and shearing away sections of armored hull. Mei fired back at a trio of maddeningly familiar Hornets in a tight triangular formation.
      Jazza barked orders. “Mei. Rahul. Flank Gavin and get Cassiopeia out of here. Gavin, you copy that? You have the package.”
      He shook his head, willing the post-jump disorientation away. He didn’t remember bringing up his shields, but they flashed on his HUD and his weapon systems were armed.
      “Copy that.” Gavin switched to the transport channel, “Cassiopeia. Let’s get you folks out of here.”
      The crew onboard the UEE transport didn’t need any more encouragement. Gavin accelerated to keep pace with the larger ship as two Rhedd Alert fighters dropped into posi­tion above and below him. Together, they raced toward the jump gate to Tyrol.
      The Hornets wheeled and dropped toward them from one side. Gavin’s HUD lit up with alerts as Jazza sent a pair of rockets dangerously close over his head to blast into one of the attacking ships. Her ship screamed by overhead, but the Hornets stayed in pursuit of the fleeing transport.
      Alarms sounded. They needed more firepower on the Hornets to give Cassiopeia time to get clear. He yelled a course heading, and Cassiopeia dove with Mei and Rahul on either flank.
      Gavin pulled up, turned and fired to pull the attention of the attackers. He spun, taking the brunt of their return fire on his stronger starboard shields.
      The impact shook the Cutlass violently, and his shield integ­rity bar sagged into the red. Gavin turned, took another wild shot with his lasers, and accelerated away from Cassiopeia with the Hornets in close pursuit.
      Navsat data for the jump into Nexus crept onto the edge of Walt’s HUD. Several seconds and thousands of kilometers later, the first of the embattled starships winked onto the display. His brother and the Rhedd Alert team were hard-pressed.
      Walt watched Brock and her crew circle and strike, corralling the Rhedd Alert ships. Gavin tried to lead the attackers away, but Brock wouldn’t bite. By keeping the fight centered on the UEE transport, she essentially held the transport hostage.
      Time to even the odds.
      Jazza tore into one of the Hornets. Walt saw the enemy fighter’s superior shields absorb the impact. He marked that Hornet as his target, preparing to strike before its defenses recharged.
      He killed his primary drive and spun end to end, slash­ing backward through the melee like a blazing comet. His targeting system locked onto the enemy Hornet, and his heavy Broadsword blasted bullets into it.
      Mei’s battered fighter dove through the streaming wreck­age, but the Super Hornet, presumably Brock, waited for her on the other side. A blast from her neutron cannon tore through the Rhedd Alert ship. Mei ejected safely, but their team was down a ship.
      “Gods,” Gavin’s voice was frantic. “Get the hell out of here, Walt. Form up with the transport and get them away from the fight.”
      Walt ignored him. He came around for another pass and triggered his mic to an open-area channel. “The game’s up, Brock.”
      His words cut across the thrust and wheel of close com­bat, and for a moment the fighters on all sides flew in quiet patterns above the fleeing Cassiopeia.
      “You know,” Walt said, “if you wanted us to believe you were after the transport, you should have saved your big guns for Cassiopeia instead of overkilling our friend.”
      “I suppose I should be disappointed that you have found me out,” Brock’s voice was a pinched sneer, and every bit as cold and hard as Gavin had described. “On the other hand, I’m glad you’ve shared this with me. I might have been content disabling the majority of your so-called fleet. Now, it seems that I will have to be more thorough.”
      She fired, he dodged, and the fight was on again in earnest. Walt switched his comms to Rhedd Alert’s squad channel. “Brock was never after Cassiopeia, Gav. She’s been after us.”
      “Maybe I’m a little distracted by all the missiles and the neutron cannon, but I’m failing to see how that is at all relevant right now.”
      “We’re no match for the tech in her ships. If she goes after the transport, they’re toast.” He rolled into position next to Gavin. Together, they nosed down to strafe at a Hornet from above.
      “Great,” Gavin said, “then why did you tip her off?”
      Walt suppressed a wicked grin. “Because,” he said, “she can’t afford to let any of us get away, either.”
      “If you have any brilliant ideas, spit ’em out. I’m all ears.”
      “Run with me.” For all Walt knew, Brock could hear every word they were saying. She would tear them apart if they stayed. He had to get Gavin to follow him. “Run with me, Gavin.”
      “Damn it, Walt! If you came to help, then help. I’ve got a pilot down, and I’m not leaving her here to get OK’d like Boom­er.”
      “This ain’t about doing the easy thing, Gav. Someone I truly admire once told me that this game is all about trust. So ask yourself . . . do you trust me?”
      Gavin growled his name then, dragging out the word in a bitter, internal struggle. The weight of it made Walt’s throat constrict. Despite all of their arguments, Boomer’s death and his own desertion when things got hard — in spite of all of that — his brother still wanted to trust him.
      “Trust me, Gavin.”
      Brock and her wingman swept low, diving to corral Cassiopeia and its escorts. Jazza redirected them with a blazing torrent of laser fire and got rocked by the neutron cannon in return. The shields around her battered Cutlass flashed, dimmed and then failed.
      Walt gritted his teeth. It was now or never.
      “Jazz,” Gavin’s voice sounded hard and sharp, “rally with Cassiopeia and make a break for it.”
      Walt pumped his fist and accelerated back the way he’d come in.
      “Walt,” Gavin sounded angry enough to eat nails, but he followed, “I’m on your six. Let’s go, people! Move like you’ve got a purpose.”
      Walt pulled up a set of coordinate presets and streaked away with Gavin close behind him. The two remaining Hor­nets split, with Brock falling in behind Gavin to give pursuit. Even together he and Gavin didn’t have much chance of getting past her superior shields. Instead, he set a straight course for the waypoint marked at the edge of his display. When incoming fire from Brock drove them off course, he corrected to put them directly back in line with the mark.
      Brock was gaining. Gavin’s icon flashed on his display. She was close enough to hit reliably with her repeaters. As they approached the preset coordinates, Walt spotted a rippling distortion of winking starlight. Correcting his course slightly, he headed straight for it. Gavin and Brock were hard behind him.
      “Come on,” Walt whispered, “stay close.”
      On the squad display, he saw Gavin’s shield integrity dropped yet again. Brock was scoring more frequent hits.
      “A little farther.”
      Walt focused on the rippling of starlight ahead, a dark patch of space that swallowed Nexus’ star. He made a slight course correction and Gavin matched it. Together, they continued their breakneck flight from Brock’s deadly onslaught.
      The small patch of dark space grew as the three ships streaked forward. Walt opened the squad channel on his mic and shouted, “Now!”
      On his HUD, a new ship flared onto the display. It appeared to materialize nearly on top of them as Dell’s Avenger dropped from her hiding place inside the blackened hull of the derelict Idris.
      Walt punched his thrusters. The lift pressed him into his seat as he pushed up and over their trap. He heard Dell shouting over the squad channel, and he turned, straining to see behind him. Bright flashes from Brock’s muzzles accompanied a horrible pounding thunder. Dell had left her mic open and it sounded like the massive gun was threat­ening to tear her ship apart.
      “Heads up, Gav!”
      Dell’s voice hit Gavin like a physical blow.
      He saw his brother climb and suddenly disappear behind an empty, starless expanse. Then Boomer’s Avenger materi­alized from within that blackness, and Gavin knew that his wife was inside the cockpit. She was with him, out in the black where veteran pilots outgunned them.
      His body reacted where his mind could not. He shoved down, hard. Thrusters strained as he instinctively tried to avoid colliding with her. A brilliant pulse like flashes of light­ning accompanied a jarring thunder of sound.
      Gavin forced his battered ship to turn. The Cutlass shud­dered from the stress, and Gavin was pressed into the side of the cockpit as the nose of his ship came around.
      He saw the first heavy round strike Brock. The combined force of the shell and her momentum shredded her for­ward shields. Then round after round tore through the nose of Brock’s ship until the air ignited inside.
      “Dell” — the flaming Hornet tumbled toward his wife like an enormous hatchet — “look out!”
      Brock ejected.
      Dell thrust to one side, but the Hornet chopped into the hull where she had hidden. The explosion sent ships and debris spinning apart in all directions.
      “Dell!”
      He swept around to intercept her spinning ship. Walt beat him there. Thrusters firing in tightly controlled move­ments, Walt caught her Avenger, slowed it and stopped the spin.
      Gavin rolled to put himself cockpit to cockpit with his wife.
      “Dell?”
      She sat in stillness at the controls, her head down and turned to one side.
      “Come on, baby. Talk to me.”
      She moved.
      With the slow deliberateness of depressurized space, she rolled her head on her shoulders. When she looked up, their eyes met. Dell gave him a slow smile and a thumbs-up. He swallowed hard, and with one hand pressed to his heart, he shut his eyes silently in thanks.
      Gavin spun his Cutlass and thrust over to where Brock floated nearby, his weapons systems still hot. He paused then, looming above her as she had hesitated over Boomer.
      Her comms were still active. “What now, Rhedd?”
      He remembered her from the meeting with Greely. Tall, lean, and crisp. She seemed small now, drifting not more than a meter away from the battle-scarred nose of his Cutlass.
      “Gavin?” Dell’s voice sounded small after the ruckus of the fight.
      Walt eased into view alongside him. His voice was low and calm, “Easy, buddy. We weren’t raised to OK pilots.”
      “She’s not worth it,” Dell said.
      Brock snarled, “Do it already.”
      He had studied Brock’s reports for months. She had more ships and more pilots than he could ever imagine employing. What drove her to harass them and kill one of his crew for this job?
      “I just want to know why,” he asked. “You’ve got other contracts. You’ve probably made more money than any of us will see in our lives. Why come after us?”
      He held Brock’s eye, the lights from the Cutlass reflecting from her visor.
      “Why?” she repeated. “Look around you, Rhedd. There’s no law in these systems. All that matters here is courage to take what you want, and a willingness to sacrifice to keep it.”
      “You want to talk sacrifice?” he said. “That pilot you killed was family.”
      “You put him in harm’s way,” she said, “not me. What little order exists in these systems is what I brought with me. I carved my success from nothing. You independents are thieves. You’re like rodents, nibbling at the edges of others’ success.”
      “I was a thief,” he said, “and a smuggler. But we’re building our own success, and next time you and I meet with the Navy,” Gavin fired his thrusters just enough to punch Brock with the nose of his ship, “it’ll be in a court­room.”
      She spun and tumbled as she flew, growing smaller and smaller until the PRB on his HUD was all he could see.
      A pair of Retaliators with naval designations were moored outside the Rhedd Alert hangar when Gavin and the crew finally limped back to Vista Landing.
      Crew aboard Cassiopeia had insisted on helping with medical care and recovery after the fight. The team scheduled for pick-up at Haven was similarly adamant that Rhedd Alert take care of their own before continuing. Technically, no one had checked with Navy SysCom.
      Did the Navy fire contractors face to face? For all he knew, they did.
      Gavin saw to the staging of their damaged ships while the others hurried the wounded deeper into Vista Landing. When he’d finished, he exchanged a quick nod with Barry Lidst who stood at ease behind Major Greely.
      “Major,” Gavin held out his hand, “I assume someone would have told me already if I was fired.”
      His hand disappeared in the major’s massive paw. “I sup­pose they would have, at that.”
      “Then to what do we owe the honor?” Dell and Walt joined them, and Gavin made introductions.
      “‘I’ first, then ‘we,’ ” Greely repeated, “I like that, Rhedd. I appreciate a man who accepts consequence personally but insists on sharing accolades with his team. Tell me, son. How’d you get Brock?”
      Gavin nudged his wife. With a roguish grin, Dell pulled her arm from around Gavin’s waist and stepped over to pat the Tarantula on her battered Avenger.
      “Nice shooting, miss.”
      Dell shrugged, “Walt pulled my tags, nav beacon and flight recorder before we left. I was sitting dark inside a decoy when the boys flew her right down the barrel.”
      Barry leaned toward Greely and in a completely audible whisper said, “It might be best if we ignore the illegal parts of that.”
      Greely waved him off. “This is what the ’verse needs. Men and women with the courage to slap their name up on the side of a hangar. A chance for responsible civilians to create good, honest jobs with real pay for locals. That an ex-military contractor tried to muck that up . . .”
      Gavin and the team got a good, close look at what angry looked like on a Navy officer. It was the kind of scowl that left an impression.
      “Anyway,” Greely composed himself, “not a soul in the ’verse would blame you for writing us off as a bit of bad business. I’m here to ask that you stick with it.”
      Gavin was reluctant to bring their financial situation up in front of their one paying client, but they were tapped out. Rhedd Alert didn’t have the cred to buy ammo, much less repair their downed fighters. “Actually, sir. I think we may need to find something a little more lucrative than getting shot up by disgruntled incumbents.”
      “About that,” Greely rested his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. He led him to look out one of the large hangar windows at the Retaliators buoyed outside. “My accountant tells me there may be some room to renegotiate certain parts of the Tyrol contract. But that job won’t be enough to keep your team busy now that Brock’s out of the way.”
      Gavin laughed. “On that point, I most certainly hope you are right.”
      “Well . . . I’ve got more work for an outfit like yours. I hope you’ll accept, because you folks have surely earned it. Tell me, Rhedd, are you familiar with the Oberon system?”
      Behind them, Walt dropped his helmet.
      The End
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