Sean-Michael Argo - Carrion Duty

“Unionizing certainly did ramp up the motivation factor on those salvage marines,” agreed Rhett as they passed through a crowd of long haulers spilling out of a grog tavern, forcing Rhett to use his size to maintain his personal space as the drunken group clogged the narrow walkways. “But they’re still doing bulk salvage, no way a Reaper tug would bother with individual lost ships, so most likely we don’t ever have to worry about them.”

“Grotto specifically doesn’t honor registered bounties,” said Vitrian, raising his voice so that Rhett could hear him over the din of the rough spoken long haulers who were well into their grog. “You and the twins are badasses, but if we start having to compete with them directly I don’t see how the vulture program remains viable.”

“You’ve seen enough of necrospace to know that we’ll never be out of a job. Ships and stations die every day,” Rhett assured his pilot as they ducked under a low sign indicating that they’d reached their destination. “This scrapyard is big enough for all of us.”

The two men entered Tae Mae’s, a dim, yet festive, establishment with a handful of simple tables and a modest kitchen behind the bar. The owner, Tae Mae herself, nodded at the two men, recognizing them as regulars, and gestured for them to enter the back room. Rhett had found this place years ago on his first shore leave from Vulture Six , and ever since then it had become the favorite of the crew as well.

Rhett walked past the bar with Vitrian, moving through the cheap beaded curtain that separated the main room from a small area big enough for one table. Captain Estrada waited for them, already sipping on a beverage and sharing a plate of what appeared to be roasted insects with a stocky man who had the look of a soldier to him. His hair was down to his shoulders and he had a beard, which threw Rhett off, considering the man’s military bearing.

“Gentlemen, meet John Kratos,” said Captain Estrada, his speech slurred only slightly, as he too was a man who took his shore leave seriously. “Former Reaper and the Vulture’s newest cutter.”

“A salvage marine?” breathed Rhett, glancing at Vitrian to see that the pilot was positively seething.

“I’ve been disavowed actually,” nodded John Kratos, with a smile that seemed to Rhett to be a mixture of grim acceptance and reluctant pride. “For dereliction of duty and theft of corporate property. Drink?”

After several rounds of the stinging citrus drinks that Tae Mae kept bringing to the small room, even Vitrian started to relax.

It was a professional courtesy that the captain refrained from discussing the details of any scrapper’s headhunter profile with the rest of the crew, though most among Vulture Six had little to hide from each other. The sort of choices that resulted in a person being part of a Vulture crew generally spoke for themselves. Captain Estrada was the only person on the ship with access to everyone’s profile, and it was he who would approve or deny any headhunter submission. Given that sort of insight into his crew, Rhett felt that the captain was much more compassionate than he often let on.

Most Vulture captains were known to treat their indentured crew as if they were little better than slaves, seemingly determined to squeeze every ounce of return from the company’s investment in acquiring them. While the average bounty scrapper could pay off their obligation to the company within seven or eight years, most of them ended their tour of duty without any savings and were soon either on the drift or wrapped up in some new kind of trouble. Captain Estrada, for his part, took the Aegis mindset of rehabilitation seriously, something he was discussing with John Kratos emphatically when Rhett returned from the lavatory.

“Each bounty we turn in will be paid to fleet, who will then transfer everyone’s individual cut to the Six , minus repayment obligations and processing fees,” explained Estrada in between bites of their second plate of roasted insects. “From there I split your amount between personal pay and a compulsory savings account which you can access when, and if, you survive the completion of your indentured term.”

“That isn’t the exact way the headhunter explained it to me, sir,” said John, also munching on the pungent appetizers, “Though I see the wisdom in it. I may have less direct control over my finances, though upon fulfilling my obligation to the fleet I’ll have something waiting for me.”

“I’ve been in this business a long time, Kratos, and I’ve seen what happens to most scrappers when their tour is over. Vultures like Calibos here,” said Estrada, jerking his thumb at Rhett casually as the former trooper returned to his seat, “Have a hole in them, and they’ll spend every bit of their cash on every vice you can imagine trying to fill that hole. When the duty is done they don’t have anything to show for it, and more often than not they end up in prison or on the drift.”

“That’s some brutal honestly, Boss,” observed John, looking over at Rhett with a look of genuine confusion, giving Rhett the impression that his life in the Reaper Corps was somewhat more regimented than what he was experiencing in his first few hours as a part of the Six crew.

“You’ll get used to it,” snorted Rhett.

“Aegis is a good company, sure, it’s got an unsavory side, usually the side we work with, truth be told, but building towards something is important. As captain of the Six , it’s my prerogative to cultivate a crew that knows there’s something waiting for them after all of this,” continued Estrada, his face flushed from the drinking and his breath coming out in short bursts. “Before we catch the next hunt, you’ll need to name a beneficiary if you get smoked, if there’s anything left afterwards, the account goes towards your obligation to the company.”

“We had something similar in Grotto, a death benefit,” said John. “Used to be that dying and the activation of the death benefit was one of the better things a marine could do for the people back home. Our pay was decent, but with a military health plan that barely covered most combat injuries and the compounded interest of our life bonds, most of us were in debt until death. Now that the Reapers are unionized there’s more of a chance for life after duty.”

“Well, this is no marine outfit and the Six certainly isn’t a Reaper tug, but I can promise you this,” stated Estrada, picking up a bottle of the strong citrus drink and pouring everyone a fresh round before leaning back in his chair. “Do your job and the company will take care of you. Survive your service and you’ll have the money for a fresh start. Die and we’ll send you off proper. That’s my promise.”

Rhett and Vitrian shared a silent look as they recognized that the captain had finally had too much of the good things. Just like Rhett had his preferred shore leave activities, some might even describe them as rituals, the captain had his own. Estrada was from the city of Delcan, on Purdeshi Prime, one of the central planets in the Aegis corporate empire, and his heritage shone through not just in his accent and bearing, but his current display.

Delcan was what was known as a ‘wake city’, and had a thriving funerary tourism industry. People from all over Aegis space, specifically those who could afford it, came to Delcan to inter their dead and hold lavish celebrations to honor them. The city was both a mega-graveyard and a perpetual party, and the captain was holding a wake in his own small way for Vader. The two men had seen this happen twice before during their time on the Six , knew that Estrada took their losses personally, and tended to celebrate hard.