EVE Fiction

Chauncy subserviently stowed the last of the howitzer shells along the racks in the cargo bay swiftly. Reporting back to her owner at the aft where he stood shooting the breeze with his arms dealer she respectfully refrained from interupting and stood behind him off his left shoulder, hands clasped below her belt with her eyes firmly fixed on the deck. Her neat dreads hung around her neck like so many sleeping snakes.
"I'd say ... swing through Khanid Kingdom. You should be able to find decent accomodations despite the our lack of better terms with the more attractive pleasure hubs in the Galente Federation. War is war and there are sacrifices being made on all fronts." The man wore dock workers overalls and a data pad tucked under one arm. His thick finders and tarnished boots both fidgeted with unregularity.
"Not a bad idea." Ottom tried to make eye contact with the shifty merchant type but they never settled in one place. More often than not they idled on Chauncy instead of the person to whom he was actually speaking.
"Yeah." Buck said slowly, licking his lips still not looking at his customer. At least Ottom thought he remembered the contacts name. It had been a long less than praise worthy day.
The two Amarrians stood talking for another few minutes before Buck or Duck or whatever broke the flow of dialogue abruptly as another ship docked smoothly using the bays AI support a few garages away from Ottoms rig.
Aboard 'Shadow's Core' publicly titled 'God's Creation' Chauncy was sitting with her feet propped up on the consol. The shiny buckles of her hull trampers reflecting the schematics of the screen projections in green, yellow and red.
Ottom finished the departure preps and while the ingines whirred up inspected his latest additions to the crew. Only 60 Domination Fusion charges, nothing to write home about. Unscrewing the top of one of the canisters revealed the cryo sleep display. This one was empty but he was sure the container would be put to use at a later date. He didn't have time to check all of the cargo because the control tower had already been notified of his impending departure. Further down the line he found a full unit.
The little brown ball of flesh and black hair slept peacefully inside the cramped shell, a light impression of dreaming impressed by the features of youth. All read outs informed the captain that the boy or girl of probably no more than 4 years was alive. Ottom touched the crystal plating. His frown illumited by the interrior lights of the quarter than custom sized cryo tube. Shaking his head he replaced the shells lid locking the fusions containment shield in place with a satifying snap. Out of habbit he checked the straps and patted the nuclear radiation warning label smugly. He had yet to see a customs official break one of those seals in the same of her majesties excellence. Turning he made his way to the bridge.
"What did I say?" Ottom slapped Chauncy's boots from the cabins displays. She swivvled around her chair next to his tucking them under her seat. "Strap up we're off this tomb."
"Are they good?" Chauncy asked while punching commands into the ships computer.
"Seems legit. Hard times call for desperate measures." Ottom entered the necessary confirmation keys unlocking Chauncy's commands and the ship lerched forward.
"Those can't be old munitions." She said questioningly.
"Those are gutted howi shells." Ottom took control.
"Residual radiation!" She complained.
"Nothing a few pink pills won't remedy."
They were on their way.