Title-- Hazrun C-6
Rating and Warnings-- G; no warnings.
Species and Characters-- Species is Aerha. Characters are XenBi (narrator), Pilot, and Eng. (Please note that, despite duplicate names, these characters are wholly separate from those of Jackpot.
Summary and Notes-- After a particularly devastating assignment that halves the number of living crew, the survivors of Hazrun C-6 start repairing their ship and scouring for new Aerhai to fill the roles left by the dead.



"Hazrun C-6? Reading me?"

I looked up and over at the controls; Pilot was back with Eng, trying to figure out what the black was wrong with our navigational computer. The tinny voice repeated itself as I stretched my tail to the communications console and pressed the keys. "XenBi reading you," I called towards the receiver. "Pilot of Hazrun C-6 is currently elsewhere. Need me to get her?"

"You're fine, XenBi. This is Second Operations Coordinator speaking. State your full qualifications, please."

I earflicked and stifled a sigh. Formality. "Primary Xenobiologist, Primary Emergency Medic, Secondary Red Defense."

"Acknowledged, XenBi. Can you give me the qualifications of the rest of your crew?" The voice was surprisingly respectful. Maybe it knew about the losses our little crew had suffered.

"Sure. Primary Pilot, Secondary Computer Technician. That's Pilot. Primary Engineer, Primary Computer Technician, Secondary Red Defense - that's Eng."

"Thank you, XenBi. The others?"

Hrr. I'd guessed wrong. "Dead. You still want their quals?"

The voice over com hesitated. "...yes, please. My condolen--"

"Xenospeaker, Primary Trader, Secondary Behaviorologist. That was Am. Primary Weapons Specialist, Secondary Engineer, Primary Grey Defense. That was Weap. Primary Medic, Primary Behaviorologist, Secondary Mechanic. That was Med. Got all that, SecOp?"

My gruffness gave the voice pause again. "Yes. Thank you, XenBi. Have you reported the Hazrun's condition to the local mechanics?"

"Don't need them," I said. "Pilot and Eng have it under control. They've already requested the necessary supplies."

SecOp cleared its throat, a metallic sound through the com. We really needed to tweak the transmission quality. Then again, we also really needed to get space-capable again. "Will you be the one to organize additional crew, XenBi? You are the closest left to a Behaviorologist."

I snorted. Pilot and Eng would be too busy repairing the ship to help; both SecOp and I knew it. "Sure. This ship can run with just three crew, though, you know."

"I'm aware. But you won't be sent out on assignment again until you have a full staff."

"You really think you can find me three qualified girls who will voluntarily staff a Hazrun? On this tiny steel ball of a space station?"

"I'll do my best. Will you accept males?"

"Weap was male," I muttered. "Eng is male. We do well with a mixed crew, here, thanks."

"...thank you, XenBi." The voice sounded ready to be done with me. "I'll contact you as soon as I find a candidate for your crew."

"Hrrh," I replied, and tailed the communications console silent.


...


I stared down at the bronze-furred Aerha who introduced herself as a Xenospeaker. Stared way, way down. She was a full foot shorter than me. Tiny. "...you know this is a Hazrun?" I asked her, once I found my voice.

"I do," she replied. Her voice was uncannily light, like she was half-purring through the words.

"...you know what Hazrun means?"

"Hazard Runner. A ship that goes into potentially dangerous situations. I'm aware." Her voice kept calm, smooth, composed.

I was being rude. Maybe even a little judgmental, condescending. Maybe a little mean. "You're adult? Finished your training and all? Certified Xenospeaker? Really?"

Her composure didn't falter. Not a huff, not an earflick, not a narrowing of the eyes, not a twitch of her claws or tailtips. "I finished Xenospeaker training last year. I have a Secondary in Navigation, as well. I know five languages."

Okay, I was starting to be convinced. As little as she was, and as inexperienced as SecOp had warned me she'd be, she had some good control on her. I was used to making strangers squirm, and I couldn't even get a whisker-flare out of her. "Combat training?" I asked skeptically.

"Only the core course. I took no extras." Her head lifted a little; she expected me to be annoyed at that. It was foolhardy for a Xenospeaker to not take a few extra combat courses. They tended to be in the thick of dangerous, uncertain situations. And on a Hazrun?

"Your hide," I shrugged. She looked faintly surprised, and my initial impression faded. Maybe she was only so controlled because she'd guessed the tack I'd take against her. Hrrh. If she relied on predictions, rather than on-the-fly reactions... she'd not only get killed, she'd get us killed, too. "Why do you want on this ship?"

She drew herself up a little straighter. Despite being so small, she knew how to strike a stance. "I heard about the casualties to your crew. I knew you'd need people, and I am not afraid of being a Hazrun crew. And I want to get into the black; I'm tired of this station."

My eyes narrowed. "So, you're a bored opportunist." Her eyes widened in offense, but I spoke before she could. "Ever crew with males before?" She shook her head mutely. "Pilot's a woman. But Eng isn't. And we have three other crew to pick up. One of those might be a male, too. Problem with it?"

"I... no."

"A stuttering ambassador is next to worthless," I growled, unimpressed.

Her eyes flashed; I hit home. Questioned her usefulness one too many times. "Eng is my brother," she snapped. "Does that answer your question? He didn't want me to say anything, to preserve your neutrality."

My thought processes ground to a halt. "Full-blooded?"

"Yes." Now she really was striking a pose, and this one unintentional. Defiance. Dare you to dismiss me now, that body language said, loud and clear.

Eng came from an exceptional bloodline. His older sister had been Pilot when I first got on the ship. If this little cat had that same crazy blood in her veins, I wanted her on the ship, inexperience or no. On a Hazrun, instincts played a critical role in survival, and bloodline practically determined instincts. "If I can't find someone more experienced," I said, "you're in. Don't tell Eng I know you're his."

"...okay," she murmured, deflating a little. "But he was right, wasn't he? You wouldn't have taken me on my own merit."

"Yeah, he was right," I agreed. "You're too young, too inexperienced, for a Hazrun. Even with that blood of yours, you'll need to learn real quick to stay alive more than one or two trips. Don't try to predict - just react." I began to turn away, pausing when I was broadside to her. "The Xenospeaker keeps the entire crew alive with her silver tongue. Make sure you want that responsibility before I talk to you again."

She just nodded, and I walked away.


...


Eventually, I had to crawl into the gut of the ship's machinery and drag Pilot and Eng out by the tails for some food and sleep. I was a poor cook when it came to taste, but at least the meals I made them choke down would fulfill bodily needs. Eng didn't complain, to his credit, when I demanded he get to the messpit, but Pilot muttered under her breath as I coerced her out of the engine bay. "Got a new cat," I said as the three of us walked the halls. It smelled of too much metal everywhere; we'd scrubbed all the olfactory residue out of the interior after our crew was halved. Wasn't kind to the mind to keep smelling dead comrades.

Pilot glanced at me, but Eng kept plodding, half a body length ahead of me. "A Xenospeaker. Tiny little thing. Young, inexperienced. A bored opportunist, I think I phrased it as. Wants off this rack and is willing to go on a Hazrun to get out."

"Sounds like a slag-poor deal, XenBi," Pilot muttered.

"It is," I agreed. "But we're not going to get out of here without the station foisting some cat on us, and this one at least is willing to learn. 'Sides, I get the feeling her instincts are pretty sharp." I saw Eng earflick. He was pretty quick, for a male. He'd probably already figured out that I knew. Neither of us would bring it up, though. "I'm still waiting for them to find someone more useful, though. Or more experienced. Something."

Pilot huffed a long sigh, ears drooping low. "We are sorely understaffed," she grumped. "We need another weapons expert. XenBi, you're good at the medic stuff, aren't you? Good enough to make us not really need a Med?"

I nodded. "I can stitch wounds and set bones with the best of 'em. But I can't mother anyone." Eng growled a quiet laugh at that. "A behaviorologist would be nice."

"This Xenospeaker. What's her other training?" Pilot asked.

"Secondary Navigator," I answered. "Useful, really, but eh. I can be our Med. We need a Xenospeaker, a Weap, and... well, somebody needs to be Secondary Pilot. I really don't like not having a back-up." I shot a look at Pilot, but she was nodding. We were Hazrun crew; we knew skills needed to be doubled up as much as possible. That's why I'd been a medic along with Med, why Med had been a mechanic along with Eng and a behaviologist along with Am, and why Eng was combat-trained along with me. We overlapped where we could.

"We need to be very specific with who we choose," Eng rumbled, finally joining the conversation. "XenBi, you should give the recruiters a list of the skillsets that we need to fill. It might help. We can't afford to be a mishmash."

I nodded. When I first joined the Hazrun, it was a mishmash crew. My first assignment didn't have any casualties, but the second one saw Pilot and Med dead. We got more careful, then, picking out people to go with us into the black. We got better with each assignment. And even with experienced cats, with a well-rounded crew, we still lost three last round.

"I'll give the recs some stats and see if they can't figure out who can fill those marks from the nearest stations. We're at the halfway point between two colonies - you'd think there'd be enough local skill to scrape up three cats." We got to the messpit, and I thumped my shoulder into Eng's hip to sit him down. Pilot didn't need the encouragement; her thoughts had switched from repairing the ship to eating, and she trotted past me to her own platter and bowl. "Eat. I'll go talk to SecOp."

"Don't forget to sleep sometime, XenBi," Eng growled after me as I slipped out the door.

It was a long list. Hard as scrap to find three cats who'd fill the marks without overlapping, without missing the big necessities - three cats who were that skilled, and willing to crew a Hazrun, and without a ship or a better offer.

Xenospeaker. Behaviorologist (primary or secondary). Secondary Pilot. Secondary Medic. Weapons Specialist. Grey Defense (primary or secondary). Mechanic or Engineer (primary or secondary).

I didn't figure we'd get lucky. All Aerhai had at least two skillsets, and a lot had three... but we needed three cats to fill seven roles. The odds were strong against us, given how specific we were about what we needed.

I got a hail from one of the nearby colonies, a day after sending out my list. They had an old veteran - well, not really old, but a Hazrun vet was always prematurely aged, especially if she was the sole survivor of a ship, like this one was. But she was what we needed - Weapons Specialist, Primary Grey Defense, Secondary Red Defense. Three cats trained in red defense would load us heavy on combat readiness, but given that this is a Hazrun, it wouldn't be overkill. I replied that we'd come visit her as soon as our ship was flight-capable, and got a message back that said she wasn't going anywhere. We were the only Hazrun in the vicinity, and though a few other ships were looking to fill out their crew, a Hazrun vet doesn't ride anything but a Hazrun. I liked her attitude.

And if we took Eng's sister as Xenospeaker, that still left us in need of a behaviorologist, a pilot, a medic, and a mechanic. In one cat.