Carefully, Cris reached out telepathically toward the two men. Though his abilities were not yet well developed, he was able to gather a few impressions. The captain seemed good natured, and he was on friendly terms with the other man. Cris dove deeper and saw some flashes of the ship's flight deck. The other man was plotting a course. He was joking with the captain. There was a sense of homesickness.

Cris pulled back. He tried to make sense of what he had seen and felt. The ship's Navigator, maybe?

The two men continued to talk for three more minutes and then parted ways. The other man carried a duffle bag as he walked away.

Did he just resign? This might be my lucky day. Cris walked up to the captain of the cargo freighter, trying to be unassuming. It proved harder than expected. "Excuse me, sir?"

The captain pivoted around to look at Cris. When he saw who had spoken, he rolled his eyes. "Fok, this is all I need. What do you want, kid?"

Cris was shocked by the tone, after the deference he had been given his whole life. Remember, you're not that person anymore. "I was hoping to buy myself a ride aboard your ship."

"We're not a passenger vessel." His annoyance was apparent.

"I can pay—"

"We're not a passenger vessel," the captain repeated.

Fine, then I'll put my education to use. "What about openings on your crew?"

The captain didn't respond at first. His eyes narrowed. "Not unless you know long-range navigation."

"I do." It is the family business, after all.

The captain smirked. "Right."

Cris looked the captain in the eye. "Let me prove it."

The captain scratched his stubble. He sighed. "All right, I'll give you a chance. What's your name?"

Cris was about to respond, but stopped himself, knowing he couldn't let anyone know his true lineage. "Cris Sights." 

"I'm Thom Caleri, and this is the Exler," the captain said, gesturing to his ship. "Let's go to the flight deck and I'll see if you're full of yourself."

Cris smiled with trained charm and followed Thom onto the ship. The Exler was a small freighter compared to many. Built exclusively for space travel, it was long and boxy with a forked backend for the jump drive and a protrusion at the top for the flight deck and living quarters. It was to this upper deck that the gangway led; as with standard freighters, cargo would be offloaded to smaller transport shuttles using a bay in the belly of the ship.

Inside, the Exler matched its captain. There were scuff marks along the walls and some deck plates were missing the occasional screw, but the bones were solid. The flight deck was at the end of a short hallway leading from the gangway entrance. It was a cramped room with only two seats. An expansive window spanned the far wall, giving a partial view of the space station and surrounding ships. Most of the controls looked to be physical buttons and switches. However, there was a horizontal touchscreen at the center of the room between the seats, supported by a console marked with the same SiNavTech logo found on all navigation systems.

"Have at it," Thom said, pointing to the touchscreen.

Cris glanced at the branding on the navigation console beneath the screen and noticed it was an older model from around the time he was born. The interface would be slightly different, but the underlying firmware would be identical to the modern systems he had studied.

Cris tapped the touchscreen and it illuminated. A holographic spatial map hovered just above the screen's surface. "Where to?"

"Gallos system," Thom instructed.

Not exactly a tourist destination, but I'll take anywhere other than here. "Okay." Cris went through the time-consuming navigation programming sequence with expert precision, identifying an optimized route for the subspace jump that would take them on a direct course to the destination. He ran four different scenarios and after half an hour settled on a beacon sequence that would allow access to several space stations during the required jump drive cooldown stops along the way. He tested the course with a dummy lock to the first beacon, and it verified his route. "This is my recommendation. Transit time will be eleven days, including the cooldown times for the jump drive."

Thom had watched him closely at every step. A navigation system was a sensitive piece of equipment for a stranger to access, but there was no other way to vet a new Navigator. "That looks right to me. Except add a few days to the time estimate to account for longer stops so we can sleep."

"I'm happy to change the stopovers if you'd prefer—"

"No, the locations are fine. You did everything correctly." Thom crossed his arms. "I'm just surprised someone your age has experience with course plotting. You can't be much older than what, sixteen?"

"Is that a problem?"

The captain looked pensive. "I suppose not. That's legal age for crew work."

"Does that mean I have the job?"

The captain smiled amiably. "Shite, why not? Some company would be better than none. You can be my Navigation Officer for the trip to Gallos—for starters—in exchange for room and board. If it works out, we can negotiate a salary for the next run."

It's more than a little ironic I'd end up working as a Navigator after being groomed as an heir to SiNavTech. "That's a reasonable offer. I accept."

Thom nodded. "Good." He looked Cris over again. "I have three rules. First, no stealing from me or other members of the crew. Second, no picking fights. And lastly, I won't ask you prying questions if you don't ask them of me."

That last one works to my advantage. "Agreed."

The captain turned the palm of his right hand upward in greeting, the Taran custom for new acquaintances who had not yet earned the trust of physical contact. "Welcome to the Exler."

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