Dalton awoke to the sound of loud purring.

He reached down and deactivated his emergency wake up watch. It was a quiet way to wake up that he'd trained himself to use in the field, where it was prudent to make as little noise as possible. It vibrated in a randomized pattern instead of shrieking you awake.

He rolled over and resisted the urge to laugh. Ari was on her back, staring intently at Jonesy, who had curled up on her stomach and gone to sleep.

"You are awake," she said softly. "I have never spent time around animals such as this. Is what is happening good or bad?"

Dalton started laughing.

"What is so amusing?" she whispered harshly.

"I'm sorry, Ari. It's just...that's a little funny. It's good, it's a good thing. He likes you. He might be grumpy when you move him, and he might swipe at you with his claws or take a nip at you with his teeth, as a warning, or maybe just to play. I'm warning you so you don't...overreact, I guess. I've never actually met a Ghost who had sane views on how to treat animals…" he murmured.

"I have no wish to bring harm to this creature, or other creatures. Not unless threatened meaningfully or we need food, and even then, I'd rather end their suffering quickly, with as little harm as possible...what is this sound it's making?"

"He. The sound he's making is called purring. It means one of two things: he's happy or he's scared and or in pain. Cats do it to calm themselves down, but they also do it when they're content and happy and feel safe."

"So...you don't think he's in pain?" she murmured.

"Correct."

"He feels safe around me…" she said, cautiously reaching out and then hesitating.

"He does. And Ari?" She looked up at him. "I do, too. I feel safe around you." He leaned down and ran a hand along Jonesy. He came awake for a moment, stretching out his legs and flexing his claws, then curled back up into a tight ball. "Pet him, he likes it."

"He's so soft," she murmured as she began cautiously stroking the cat, running her pale, pale hand against his dark black fur. She looked up. "I love you, Erik. Thank you for saying that. I like being dangerous and intimidating, but...I want to be able to stop. I want the people I like and love to be able to really feel safe around me."

"It might be a struggle for some, but we'll get there. And I love you too, Ari. Now, I have to go get ready and see how things are."

"I'll be up in a moment. Now that I know he is not angry with me, I am very much enjoying this."

He laughed. "Now you see why people enjoy having cats around so much."

"I do, indeed."

Dalton headed into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he was washed, dressed, and relatively refreshed. He headed out and began looking around. Alder was still in the cockpit, though she was napping in the pilot's seat and he left her to it. Forrester wasn't in the infirmary when he looked in, though he saw the bathroom door at the back was closed. He began to leave, then paused as he saw Baker stir.

"Sergeant?" he asked softly.

"Don't talk, just listen," Dalton replied, stepping up next to him. "You're safe. We're heading for freeport right now. Forrester is looking over you. You're in a lot of pain, so you should give up trying to stay conscious and let yourself sleep. We don't need you to do anything but get better right now. That is your responsibility to tackle, got it, Corporal?"

Baker looked briefly conflicted, then nodded a small, grim nod and closed his eyes.

"Good work," Dalton muttered, and looked over as the bathroom door opened. Forrester stepped out, then paused.

"What happened?" she asked.

"He's awake," Dalton replied.

"Ah hell," she muttered, walking over and grabbing a syringe. "I'm having to be stingy with the morphine because we have so little."

"I'm sorry," Dalton replied, watching as she injected some into Baker.

"Aren't we all?" she muttered, frowning and studying him.

He lingered for a bit, then headed out of the infirmary and headed for the cargo bays. He found them surprisingly empty, just Dix and Roscoe sitting on some crates, smoking and talking. They both fell silent as he approached.

"Where is everyone?" Dalton asked.

"Sleeping," Dix replied. "We finished searching everything. Here. Not much."

He passed Dalton a datapad. He took it and looked through it. There really wasn't much. At a glance, he saw that they had enough food to keep them all fed for about five days. And that was if they were lucky. There were maybe enough tools and spare parts to keep the heap running for as long as it took to get them to where they were going. A few changes of clothes. Unfortunately, about ninety percent of everything they'd found were all things they were going to need anyway. He studied the list of stuff they could actually trade.

It was too thin. Some booze, some drugs, some credits, a big pack of cigarettes.

"This sucks," he muttered.

"Yeah, I know you didn't want to hit the living quarters, but...yeah. Not much choice."

Dalton checked his watch. "Okay, we're nine hours out. I'll give them another three hours to sleep, then we're tearing apart those living quarters."

"This is freeport Blizzard Station, state your business immediately or fuck off. We have weapons and most of them work and we don't tolerate assholes."

"Charming," Alder murmured.

Dalton took the radio. He could sense Frost and Dix behind him, watching him. He brought it to his mouth. "This is Sergeant Erik Dalton of the Tenacity, formerly of the Confederacy. We are requesting permission to dock and trade and get some emergency medical assistance."

"I see. Well, if you promise not to be dipshits, I can let you onboard. But we need to discuss our docking fees."

"I have firsthand knowledge of and experience with the two alien races presently invading the sector. And I'd be willing to share it."

"...TWO?"

"Yes. I personally fought both races. If you guys intend to survive if these things show up, you need data."

"Hold." A long pause went by. "All right, we'll waive the docking fees if you meet with our chief of security and tell her about it. Don't fuck us over or you'll be sucking vacuum. And you still have to pay for the rest."

"And the medical treatment?"

A sigh. "I'll have someone meet you there with a gurney to guide you to our medical ward. That's the best I can do."

"Make it three gurneys," Dalton replied. "We've got the manpower to push them ourselves."

"You're asking a lot."

"I've got Yeheyuans."

"...fine. I'll be there with three gurneys. You'd better have those cigarettes."

"Deal."

Another pause. Then, "Hangar Seventeen. Out."

"That's about average for a freeport," Alder muttered as she began working the control panels and bringing them in closer.

"Yep," Dalton replied, looking through the front windows at the asteroid-based colony that was quickly growing larger. He leaned forward and flicked the shipwide intercom. "This is Dalton. We're about to dock with a freeport. Everyone except Forrester to cargo bay one for instructions."

"What do you want us to do?" Dix asked as he started walking back deeper into the ship, both of them following.

"Frost, you're with me. We're talking with the chief of security." He stopped in the doorway to the infirmary. "Forrester, get them prepped to move, all three of them. Gonna have gurneys coming in to take them to a local infirmary. Dix and Mulberry are going to go with you."

"Mulberry?" Dix muttered.

"I don't want to cut him loose on the station, I don't want to leave him to guard the ship, and I don't want him coming with us. Just...keep him out of trouble."

"Thanks."

"I'll get them prepped," Forrester said. "And make sure they get the fucking job done right."

He nodded briskly. "Appreciated. I'm going to send Mulberry back here with some supplies to trade for. Get as much medical supplies as you can. You know what we need now and what we might need in the future."

"I hope you found a fucking motherlode," she muttered.

"Unfortunately not. Dix'll be back with the gurneys and Mulberry."

"Got it."

They kept walking. The living quarters had bore some fruit, at least. There were more cigarettes, more booze, some coke and a nice little stash of a relatively newer drug they called spank that should fetch a good price. Almost all of them had a pistol and some ammo, and in one case a snub-nosed shotgun and a box of shells, but those were all going to their survival as well.

Although, he wondered suddenly in a spray of bile-soaked fear, were those guns even useful against the aliens?

Either of them?

Those hides had been pretty damn tough, and that other one had been motherfucking bulletproof. For awhile, at least. Dalton sighed and put it out of his mind. Another problem for the future. They'd managed to find a decent stash of credits, too, but it felt like Confederate credits were losing their value out in the freeports. Everything else they'd found, they needed.

He found everyone else on the ship gathered as he'd asked and felt some relief. "Okay, listen up! We're docking with freeport right now. Myself and Frost are going to speak with their security chief. They're taking info on the aliens as docking fees. Mulberry, you're going to be helping Dixon and Forrester in moving the wounded through the station. Stay with Forrester. Seriously, just go with Forrester to the infirmary on the station, wait until they're done, then go right back with her to the ship. Got it?"

"Got it," he replied.

"Perfect. Everyone else, you're going to be given assignments. Sullie, your task is guns and ammo. Specifically, you're going to find however much ammo you can for our rifles and new flamethrowers for Dix's suit. Got that?"

"Yeah, I got it, but you'll have to give me a shitload to buy with," she replied. "Maybe I could find a card game…"

"Hey, no. Look at me, Sullivan. No. No gambling, no fucking around, no 'little breaks'. Not here, not now. Seriously, this is a direct order."

"Okay, okay! I got it, Sergeant. No bullshit, just the straight work."

"Thank you. Roscoe, your responsibility is to get food. It doesn't need to be good, it needs to keep us alive. Which, believe me, I know is an unpopular order, but it's the one I'm giving. I'll be suffering along with the rest of you. We need it cheap and we need it in bulk. Finally, Finch, you need to go hunting for something specific: water condensers and water filters."

"Out of everything we'll need for the colony, that's what you think we need the most?" Dix asked.

"Yes," Dalton replied. "Most of the rest of what we're going to need typically can be found among the ruins of outposts, of which I know there's many down there. One of the things that breaks down most frequently are the fucking condensers and the filters. We're going to need as many as we can get, because water is life and life is water. We can make it weeks without food, but how long do you think we'll make it without water? How long before we start seriously suffering from dehydration?"

Dix stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "Goddamn am I glad you're in charge."

Dalton chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. Frost and I will be going after power, energy. Now, I've divvied these up as much as I can. This is what you have to bargain with. Now, this is serious," he said as he passed out the satchels they'd found among the cargo and loaded up with supplies. "And I want everyone to do their job, no more, no less. Get out there, get what you're supposed to get, get back to the ship. Once we've all done the first job and we meet back up here, then we can start thinking about heading back out and having some fun. Now...I'm counting on you all. We're a family now. And not in a bullshit way but a real way. We all depend on each other and this is life or death. And I'm sorry to drive that point home, but I just...really need you to understand it."

"We get it, Sergeant," Roscoe replied, her cynicism gone. "We take it seriously. This is our life now." The others nodded solemnly.

"I really, truly, deeply appreciate that. Now, final thing, I want you all to go armor up. I've been through these freeports before and I know they were built to accommodate it. You'll draw some attention, but people know not to fuck with the Confederacy unless they want serious trouble. Plus...I don't want us off this ship right now without guns and armor, even in a place like this."

"Let's suit up, people!" Dixon called.

They all began heading to the other bay, where they'd stored their suits of armor. Dalton watched them go, finding himself smiling broadly. He hadn't had a family for a long, long time. Too long. The Marines had only been a hollow husk of a family. But now? Now he had a family, and he knew he'd fight and die to defend it.

Dalton headed after them, preparing himself for whatever was to come.