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"Did I ever tell you about the time I destroyed a Vector-class cruiser?"

Victoria sighed to hear Dylan's drawl. "Yes, I believe you have. Maybe two hundred times."

"It was in the Massani cluster."

Victoria sighed again. Dylan was neither hard of hearing nor stupid, so she could never figure out why he kept telling the same stories over and over. Was the present so dull to him that he had to live constantly in the past?

She tuned him out once again. She had more pressing concerns than the tales of an old cheetah's past glories. Like where she was going to find the money to pay her crew.

Work had turned scarce of late. In a galaxy full of conflict, she would have thought there would be plenty of works for some well-trained mercs. However, it seemed independents were going out of style. More and more, both governments and private organisations were hiring members from large "security firms" and other such private armies. Even though larger firms meant they collectively had more scandals, it seemed people were more willing to trust them over small groups of independent contractors. Victoria hated to admit it, but this crew she had put together might not be in business much longer. Still, she could not stand the large corporate nature of security firms.

Victoria was a fox, standing 5'8" with pure white fur. She kept her hair cropped as close as the rest of her fur; a bully in her childhood had grabbed her by the hair to hold her in place, and she had never forgotten that particular lesson. On the bridge of her ship, she wore a plain navy blue uniform, short-sleeved, close-fitting yet flexible enough to get around in, with black boots. Her blue eyes stared moodily at a notepad, flicking through screens of job offers and maps, trying to find the next place they could get some decent paying work.

"Would you please shut up?" Victoria looked up at the new voice cutting over Dylan's story. Her pilot, a young rabbit, never looked away from her station as she told off Dylan, and her voice never lost that polite tone even when her words were incredibly rude. Victoria often wondered if the rabbit had spent time in a call centre for some large business. There was no way that inflection of exceeding politeness came naturally to anyone.

"You should listen," Dylan responded. "You might learn something."

"About the only thing I have left to learn from you is the maximum number of times you'll retell a story. I'm beginning to think that there is no real number high enough to describe that maximum."

Victoria stifled a grin. "I have to agree with our pilot, XO."

Dylan did shut up, albeit with some grumbling about "young'uns" and "respect for elders." Victoria returned her attention to the notepad. There must be a job out there somewhere for them. She just had to find it.

***

Miles sent the punching bag reeling back on its chain with a solid punch before pausing in his workout. He was getting restless on the ship, and he did not care who knew it. He wanted to see some action again and not just for the pay.

"What's got your tail in a knot?"

Miles sent a glare to the door of the ship's gym, where, sure enough, Aly was watching him. Miles thought about sending his next punch in that direction, but Victoria had had some extremely strong words to him last time he had done something like that. And while he didn't like to admit it, his rump had been sore for a week after Victoria had dumped him on it.

In any case, Miles didn't appreciate anyone commenting about his tail. Or rather, his lack thereof. The black leopard had lost it years before, and most people learned very quickly to avoid comment on it. Most, he thought with another glare at Aly.

The deer stood three inches taller than he at her 6'1". Her dark green jumpsuit was entirely open with the sleeves tied around her waist, revealing her black tank top. Some members of the crew appreciated that look; Miles simply found Aly annoying with her seemingly constant ribbing.

Miles returned to his assault on the bag in front of him, pretending to take no notice of the doe still standing there. Aly made no such pretence.

"Cheer up. We'll get work soon enough."

"'Soon enough' would have been weeks ago."

"Or is that the problem?" Aly sounded thoughtful, though Miles knew she was anything but. "Perhaps what you're really missing is some tail, eh?"

Miles went still and didn't look at the door. "You'll want to leave. Now."

Miles counted five long seconds before he turned. Aly had left. Apparently she didn't want to risk Victoria's wrath either, a fact Miles was somewhat grateful for. He didn't want to get in trouble with the white fox, but had Aly still been there when he turned, he wasn't sure he could stop himself. He threw himself back into his workout. Maybe he could burn away some of the stress and anger, he told himself. Past experience whispered in his mind that it wouldn't really work, but he ignored it. He just wanted to see combat again.

***

"What do you think, Kayla?"

"I think you're a dog in desperate need of being leashed."

Philip just grinned at that. The husky ran his hand through the black fur on his head. "A leash, eh? I didn't know you were into that, darling."

"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about." Kayla stretched, arching her back before grabbing a different wrench and leaning back into the wall of the ship. When she'd first started working next to Philip, she had been worried about being in such a vulnerable position next to the husky. Since then, she learned he was all bark and no bite.

"I love you too, sweetie."

Kayla shook her head. She was a dog too, though not a husky like Philip. She was a boxer, and she stood just as high as her colleague at 5'6". They both worked to keep the ship running at peak condition, a task that only seemed to get harder as time went on. The parts got older and more finicky, things broke and needed replacing, and lately there had been less money to go towards maintenance and repairs. Still, she was determined to make sure that the Aurora did not fall apart yet. At least it was originally made by the Mystil Corporation. Orvl was the usual leader in warships, but while their designs often outperformed competitors, they achieved it through high-end parts that took more effort to keep in working order and less potential for modification. Still, sometimes Kayla missed her old work for that alone. She suppressed a shudder at the thought. She certainly didn't miss everything else her last job had entailed. She was never going back.

"Ok, try that."

Philip turned back to his computer. "Green across the board. Nice work."

"Thanks." Kayla wiped her brow with a rag. Philip grinned just slightly. Kayla had grabbed the dirty rag by mistake and streaked some dirt and grease across her forehead, but Philip wasn't about to tell her that. He thought it looked cute on her. It went well with her navy jumpsuit, slightly unzipped, forming a v-neck. Philip wore a similar one, but he kept his zipped up all the way. For all his lewd comments around the crew, he was shy with his body. Kayla didn't know if anyone had seen him with so much as short sleeves, never mind what his chest might look like. In fact, he usually wore gloves too, though she had on occasion saw his actual hands. "Is there anything else on the list?"

Philip consulted the notepad casually thrown on his desk earlier. "Nope. Looks like that's it for the moment."

"Thank the goddess. I'm beat."

Philip grinned a bit wider. "I know a way to unwind."

Kayla thought of responding but settled for a flat look. Philip just chuckled in response.

"One day you'll get curious enough."

"The same day Dylan gives up mentioning that Narsil-class cruiser."

"Vector-class, darling."

Philip broke into full laughter as the dirty rag struck his own face and hung around his muzzle. Kayla gave up pretending to be annoyed and joined in.

***

Arthur was sleeping, the picture of relaxed contentedness, when Nerissa walked into the crew's quarters. His hands were folded behind his head, ankles crossed, and his cap was resting over his face. Nerissa wondered how the red fox did it. No matter where he was, he could look entirely at peace with everything around him. It would be almost creepy if that sense of serenity did not extend to those around him. Perhaps it was mystical, Nerissa often thought.

Nerissa was the second cheetah of Victoria's crew and generally the more accepted one at the dinner table. She didn't share Dylan's penchant for telling the same stories over and over. Besides her sex, she looked a lot like a younger version of Dylan. They were both the same height at 5'7", and they both had the same tawny eyes. Still, there was no relation. As she was quick to reassure anyone who asked. Nerissa was grateful. She got annoyed with Dylan enough now; she couldn't imagine having to grow up around him.

Nerissa spent some time staring at Arthur's sleeping body before realising what she was doing and looking away, almost embarrassed even though no one was there to see her. She envied Arthur's calm, and she wished it would rub off more on her. She enjoyed what she did, but she still got nervous. Nervous about work, about death, about everything. She did her best to disguise it, and she was usually successful, but it still felt like a pretence to her. Maybe that was why she stared at Arthur and sought him out so often. At least, that was what she kept telling herself. Repeatedly. Definitely with no ulterior motives whatsoever. Her skill at hiding her nerves was useful at hiding from other things. Nerissa had a lot of practice with denial.

"Any news from our captain?"

Nerissa started as Arthur spoke. Apparently he hadn't actually been asleep. She blushed, though she was grateful that the hat covering his face had prevented him from seeing her staring.

"Nothing yet."

"Shame." Arthur still lay still. Nerissa would have been convinced he was sleeping again had he not just spoke.

"I'm sure something will crop up."

"Me too. Still, some of us are getting restless."

Nerissa thought of Miles. "Some of us are always restless."

Arthur gave a soft chuckle at that. Nerissa knew no further explanation was necessary. Miles was the kind of guy you wanted around in a fight. Still, he wasn't the best guy to have around otherwise. Nerissa was just glad he mostly kept to himself. He made her nervous ever since she had made the mistake of tentatively broaching the subject of his tail. He hadn't attacked her, but he had gotten so angry so quickly that Nerissa quickly shut up and made a mental note to never bring it up again. She just wished Aly would do the same. She didn't mind the doe's teasing herself, but she hated when Aly butted heads with Miles. Whether figuratively or literally.

"You all right?"

Nerissa looked quickly back at Arthur. His eyes were still under his cap. He couldn't see her, and she wasn't making any noises. How did he always seem to tell how she, and indeed others, were feeling? "I'm fine."

"All right."

Silence stretched between them again. Nerissa picked up her notepad and started flipping through the screens, mostly to give her something to do. She felt awkward like this. Still, she didn't want to leave. Eventually, she lost herself in a novel. Once in a while, she'd glance over at Arthur. He never seemed to move besides his gentle breathing. She wondered once in a while if he were still awake, but she didn't know how to tell. Even like this, though, she was glad to spend time around him.