Anna took a deep breath, a buzzing in the background overriding the beeping that lulled her to doze. She extricated herself from John, pulling her clothing back in place as she squinted at the screen. The beeping, working in tandem with a blinking red light alerting her to the oxygen deprivation making her thoughts muddled and groggy, failed to drown out a buzzing alerting her to a flashing on the screen. Her fingers stuttered over the keys, pressing the buttons with a hiss of the internal mechanics pumping on the last remaining vestiges of their fuel reserves.

She flicked a switch and jumped at the voice echoing through the cockpit. "This is the vessel Manganese calling to the injured ship. Please respond. I repeat, this is the vessel Manganese calling to the injured ship. Please respond so we can coordinate your position for a rescue."

Anna scrambled to find the microphone, pulling the receiver close to her mouth while holding the earpiece close enough to hear the response. "This is vessel… I don't know the name but we need help."

"What's your hail?"

"What?" Anna shook her head, feeling her thoughts jumble, "I don't understand the question."

"What's your hail?"

A hand closed over Anna's and John took the mouthpiece, "Plutonium."

"Prepare for docking procedure." The line clicked and Anna turned to John, grabbing the console to steady herself as her body swayed.

"What does that mean?"

"They're asking our hail to make sure we're not really government agents hoping to catch smugglers." John rubbed his forehead, frowning. "I didn't think we were that close to a smuggling lane."

"Smugglers?"

"I hope so." John flopped back into his seat, taking shallow breaths. "Or else we just turned ourselves over to the government hoping to catch us out."

"At least we're dressed for rescue." Anna tried to laugh but felt the dizziness force the air from her lungs. "It would've been more awkward for them to catch us an hour ago."

"Or even ten minutes ago." John sighed, "At least we won't die on this ship."

A shudder went through the ship and Anna craned her neck back to look up through the shield on the ship. The black, yawning maw of the other ship covered them. Their own ship shook and wheezed until a clanking crash had Anna reaching out for a handhold to stop herself falling over. John put a hand out to her, steadying her feet, and pulled her close when their rear hatch opened.

The rush of air allowed Anna a deep breath, sending her head spinning with the increased oxygen. She almost laughed with the flush to her system, clinging to John for a moment, but came back to herself as three people entered their vision. John stepped in front of Anna, reaching for a gas pistol but Anna lowered it in his hand.

"We don't want to be inhospitable John."

"We'd prefer that." The leader of the group, a shorter, rotund woman, approached them as she adjusted a steam-rifle over her shoulder before extending a hand. "Mrs. Patmore, pleased to meet you."

"Anna." Anna shook before pointing to John, "This is my husband, John."

"We recognize John Bates, don't we crew?" Mrs. Patmore shook John's unoccupied hand in her hearty grip, "It's an honor to meet one so influential."

"I'm just sorry I can't say I know you as well as you know me."

"A good smuggler is one no one knows about." Mrs. Patmore winked at them before turning to her remaining crewmembers. "This is Ms. Baxter and Mr. Moseley."

"Don't you have first names?"

"We don't use them while we're working." Ms. Baxter smiled, shrugging a little to herself, "It keeps us from giving anyone too much information."

"Then you still have us at a disadvantage." John pointed to himself and Anna. "You know everything about us."

"We know you're a war satirist who's been working to bring down the government and, given the state of your ship and the scrape we heard about not too far from here, the RA." Mrs. Patmore managed a chuckle, "That's enough to tell us we did the right thing coming to your aid."

"And how far will that aid take you?" Anna gestured around their ship. "Could you get us and this back to Plutonium?"

"We're on our way there now as part of our run so we could manage it without too much difficulty." Mrs. Patmore waved for them to follow her. "We've got repairs to make on this bucket before we can get you back on board it so why don't you two come with us."

Anna looked at John, who nodded, and they followed the three crewmembers back to the Manganese. As they passed Mr. Moseley, pulling up the rear, Anna had to hide her giggle as he sniffed the air. Ms. Baxter hung behind, her voice low.

"What is it?"

"What's that smell?"

"What smell?"

Mr. Moseley sniffer again, "I don't know. It's musky."

Mrs. Patmore laughed, "The smell of someone's last moments, Mr. Moseley. Now why don't you fix the oxygen scrubbers on that boat so we can cycle it out."

Mr. Moseley hopped to it, leaving Ms. Baxter and Mrs. Patmore to guide John and Anna toward the interior of the Manganese. The cargo hold boasted containers, all unmarked, organized in sections along the walls. Anna noted their particular positions and leaned her head toward Ms. Baxter.

"Do you know what's in them by their placement?"

"We know what's in them by their placement." She pointed to a far corner, "That section is 239 so you can guess where we're taking it."

"Plutonium."

Ms. Baxter nodded, "If your ship were smaller we'd move it over there so we didn't confuse it with anything else."

"But do you know what you're carrying?"

"I never ask and I never want to know." Ms. Baxter jerked her head toward Mrs. Patmore, leading them up a set of metal stairs that creaked and groaned as they ascended. "Her rules are nothing explosive or reactive. Anything else is fair game."

"Then you're trying to avoid tariffs?"

"We want to avoid war." Mrs. Patmore spoke over her shoulder, holding the door at the end of the gantry open. "I don't run weapons, people, or drugs."

"You're running us."

"You're a rescue mission." Mrs. Patmore pointed her finger at them, "You're my goodwill for the month."

"And you'd save anyone sucking for air in the vacuum of space?"

"We're the Samaritans on the roadside, Mr. Bates." Mrs. Patmore pulled out two chairs at the bolted down table. "We do what we can as we're able but we're not going out of our way to answer distress calls in the void."

"Afraid to get found?"

"We've had a few too many close calls with fakers." Mrs. Patmore took a seat for herself, hanging her gun off the back of her chair while Ms. Baxter continued through to another area of the ship. "But the damage on your ship was genuine and you were broad-spectrum broadcasting so I thought we'd be safe."

"What's the difference?"

"When the noise over the wireless is coming broad-spectrum it means that someone's desperate. They'd risk the RA and the government finding them with their trousers 'round their ankles." Mrs. Patmore cleared her throat, making a jerk of her head toward John's trousers. He zipped them in a hurry, face reddening in the low light of the canteen lighting. Mrs. Patmore only laughed, "As I told Mr. Moseley, You were in your last moments. I don't begrudge you trying to go out in a flare instead of choking on your lack of air."

"We can't thank you enough for responding to our signal"

"And we should probably be thanking your for the swag we've just salvaged due to you blowing all those asteroids to kingdom come." Mrs. Patmore chuckled, "I've never seen the RA scramble so quickly. They left so much behind it was like Christmas and Chinese New Year and my birthday all in one."

"You looted the wreckage?"

"It's what we do and we've found some supplies and materials that'll keep the Manganese and her crew floating safely on the vapors for years to come."

"Is that what you want?"

"How'd you mean?"

"Do you do all this to float safely, always skimming by?"

Mrs. Patmore pursed her lips, "Do you know why I named this ship the Manganese?" Anna shook her head. "Because it's a crucial element for iron and steel production. Without it the whole process falls to shit."

"And you're crucial to survival?"

"We're the crux of everything, Mrs. Bates. It's people like us who fill in the cracks that other people leave behind. We work in the shadows and the shallows. Barely noticed until we're not there and then missed by everyone… though many don't know why."

"And that makes you happy?" Anna held up her hand, "Don't misunderstand me, I couldn't be more grateful than I am right now, but surely can't want this to be your life forever."

"Oh course not." Mrs. Patmore put a hand to her chest, "This is a means to an end, dear. More than that, one day I'll die and that'll be the end of it all anyway. My great smuggling empire disappearing in the dust when I'm dust."

"Then why do it?"

"For the adventure and the food it puts in my belly and on the tables of the people I help get fairer prices from me than they would begging off the government." Mrs. Patmore snorted, opening her hand toward John, "I could ask him the same question."

"How'd you mean?" John frowned, shifting in his seat. "I'm not a smuggler."

"No, but you're a known enemy of the government and the RA… for as long as they're still blowing wind over the aether."

"What's your point?"

"If you've got yourself this lovely wife here then why are you still tramping your way about the galaxy in that little bucket? Why are you trying to single-handedly bring down the government when others should carry the fight now?"

John went to answer but Anna cut in, "Because he can do something about it."

"Because he's a lightning rod you mean?" Mrs. Patmore pointed to herself. "We know the ship Plutonium the same way we know his face. John Bates, the legendary writer trying to solve the galaxy's problems all on his own."

"John's done great things."

"And I'm not arguing his good deeds, Mrs. Bates." Mrs. Patmore took a deep breath, "I'm just wondering if you're both willing to accept that you almost just died because you thought you owed it to the galaxy to right wrongs that aren't yours to right."

"We know what we're sacrificing." John kept his tone firm, Anna holding his hand in both of hers.

"But do you really?" Mrs. Patmore stood, "Do you realize that if you die you'd leave whatever family you have left behind? That you'd give up the lives you could've led just to go out in glory?"

"It's always a risk to change the world."

"Maybe it's time for someone else to take that risk." She pushed away from the table and John called after her.

"Someone like you, you mean?"

"Never me, Mr. Bates." Mrs. Patmore shook her head, giving a little laugh. "I'm a smuggler and I do what I do so I can live my life. I don't want glory or for anyone to know my name. I'm just here carving out a living in an unforgiving universe that no more gives a damn about me than it does about you."

"I think you're wrong."

"Which is why you were dying in a broken ship and we saved you." Mrs. Patmore pointed to another door. "There are some sleeping quarters in there. You should probably get some rest until Mr. Moseley fixes your scrubbers. I'll get you when you're needed or when the food's ready."

Anna pushed back from the table, tugging John to follow her, and they went into the small room. John immediately lay down on the bed, closing his eyes as Anna sat on the end of the cot. She pulled her knees up, leaning back against the wall, and rested her chin on her knees.

After a moment she shook John's leg. "John?"

"Hm?"

"We need to talk."