TSD: 3049-10-06 — Local: 12:18
Galatea, Galatea System — Galaport City (MRB Hiring Hall / Galaport Annex Concourse)
The hiring hall smelled like old coffee, coolant residue, and people trying to pretend they weren't desperate.
A dozen holos scrolled contract postings in muted light—escort runs, anti-pirate sweeps, garrison rotations nobody wanted, and one category that had started showing up more often in the last few months:
DISCIPLINED UNKNOWN CONTACTS — PERIPHERY CORRIDORS
BONUS UPON VERIFICATION
COMSTAR: NO COMMENT
Kel walked under the holo glow with blood still embedded in the seams of his sleeve where the MRB annex attacker had burst. The jacket had been cleaned, mostly. Mostly wasn't enough if you looked close.
He didn't talk much. He didn't need to. His calm moved ahead of him like a shield.
Mara and Tessa walked with him, and the way they moved together now—subtle coordination, shared pace—wasn't romance. It was something harder-earned: trust under fire.
Mara's tablet was already open. She wasn't browsing contracts.
She was browsing people.
Tessa scanned the crowd like a mech tech scans a damaged chassis—looking for the hidden cracks. The confident liar. The ego pilot. The guy who'd ruin a bay with his mouth and hands and entitlement.
And the men were here.
Plenty of them.
Ex-militia grunts. Washed-out vehicle gunners. A pair of swaggering "security specialists" who looked like they'd never carried someone bleeding.
They drifted toward Kel as soon as they clocked the Zeus pilot patch and the whisper that followed it: assault-class merc.
Tessa leaned close to Mara, voice low. "We are not bringing one of those into our bay."
Mara didn't look up. "Agreed."
Kel heard them anyway.
He didn't comment.
He just let them work.
Because he'd already picked up what they were doing.
And he didn't mind.
Not even a little.
---
They set up at a small MRB side table—official enough to look legitimate, informal enough to keep the wrong eyes from getting curious. Mara posted a simple placard on the edge:
HARROW UNIT — TEMP POSITIONS (21 DAYS)
LOGISTICS / SECURITY / TECH SUPPORT
DISCIPLINE REQUIRED
No mention of gender. No mention of "crew culture." Just discipline—a word that filtered people faster than any open bias ever could.
The first applicant was a man with a scar across his cheek and confidence leaking out of him like exhaust.
He started talking before Mara finished looking at his file. "I ran point for—"
Mara smiled politely without warmth. "We're already filled for security at your experience bracket. Thank you for your time."
The man blinked. "I haven't even—"
Tessa, deadpan: "That was your interview."
He walked off angry.
Kel didn't flinch. Didn't smile. Didn't intervene.
He just watched the flow of people like he was watching a battlefield.
Mara leaned slightly toward him, voice low, careful. "If you object—"
Kel cut her off calmly. "If they're good, we take them. If they're not, we don't."
Mara's shoulders eased by a fraction.
Tessa muttered, almost inaudible, "Good."
---
The next applicant was Avery Quill, nineteen, former Galatea militia auxiliary—file said she'd been discharged cleanly after a knee injury that healed wrong but not crippling. She didn't walk with a limp; she walked with a cautious economy like she hated wasting motion.
She wore a surplus flak vest over a fitted thermal top and cargo pants with reinforced knees. Boots scuffed, laces replaced with cord. Her hair was cut short—practical—front brushed to one side. No makeup. No jewelry. Her hands were steady.
She stood at attention without making it a performance.
Mara studied her file. "You've never worked for a merc unit."
Avery's throat moved. "No, ma'am."
Tessa leaned forward. "You ever been in a bay during a reactor hot swap?"
Avery blinked once. "No."
Tessa's tone stayed neutral. "Good. That means you don't have bad habits yet."
Avery looked startled—like she couldn't tell if she'd been insulted or saved.
Kel spoke for the first time, voice calm. "What do you do when your convoy contact is a false flag and the first casualty drops in front of you?"
Avery's eyes flicked to his sleeve—blood stain in the seam. She swallowed.
"Return fire," she said. Then, after a beat, "But first—cover the civilians. Create lanes. Don't let panic split the line."
Kel held her gaze. "If you freeze?"
Avery's jaw tightened. "Then I die. Or someone else does."
Kel nodded once. "Honest."
Avery looked like she didn't know what to do with that word.
Mara slid her a waiver pad and said lightly, "Quarters are tight. We run close."
Avery answered quickly, "I don't cause problems."
Tessa's eyes narrowed. "Everyone says that."
Avery looked down, then up again, and for the first time her voice wavered. "I mean… I don't know how to—" She stopped, cheeks warming. "I don't… do the whole… social thing."
Mara's stylus paused for half a second.
Kel didn't react like it was cute. He reacted like it was data.
"Good," Kel said calmly. "We're not hiring you to be smooth."
Avery blinked, visibly flustered by the praise—like it hit her harder than an insult would have.
"Copy," she said too quickly, then looked embarrassed. "I mean—yes."
Tessa's mouth twitched once. "She'll do."
Mara: "Provisional."
Kel: "Hired."
Avery stood there like she'd been told she'd won a war. "I—thank you."
Kel nodded once. "Earn it."
She nodded like she'd been given a map.
---
The third applicant was Nadia Krieger, nineteen, logistics driver and heavy-vehicle operator. Her file was clean but thin—work history was mostly hauling, short contracts, moving from job to job like someone who didn't like staying long enough to be known.
She wore a long, weathered cargo coat over a plain shirt, fitted enough to move in, not trying to look "cute." Her hair was longer than Avery's, but tied up in a thick knot at the back with a band, loose strands framing her cheeks like she'd done it in a hurry. She had grease under her nails that didn't wash out—proof of honest work.
Tessa pointed at her hands immediately. "You actually drive."
Nadia's cheeks warmed. "Yes."
Mara asked, "Ever been shot at?"
Nadia hesitated. "Once," she admitted. "Road pirates. I—" She stopped, swallowing. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't… handle it well."
Tessa's eyes stayed hard. "And now?"
Nadia's shoulders lifted and fell. "Now I want to learn."
Kel looked at her for a long moment—quiet, calm.
"Can you keep a vehicle moving when people die around you?" he asked.
Nadia's eyes widened. Her throat moved. She looked down, then up again, voice small but honest. "I… don't know."
Kel's voice didn't soften, but it wasn't cruel. "That's the correct answer."
Nadia blinked rapidly, flustered—like she'd expected him to call her useless.
Kel continued, "We'll train you. But if you lie to me, you die."
Nadia swallowed hard and nodded. "I won't lie."
Tessa leaned back, measuring her. "Any issues working in tight quarters with women?"
Nadia's face went red instantly. "No—no, I mean—" She shook her head hard. "No issues."
Mara's expression stayed neutral, but her eyes sharpened like she'd found what she wanted: a girl who wasn't going to bring male chaos into their bunks.
Kel noticed the exchange.
He didn't comment.
He just said, "Hired. Vehicle and logistics. You answer to Mara for paper and to me for survival."
Nadia nodded too fast. "Yes. Copy. Sorry—yes."
Tessa muttered, "She's going to be a mess."
Mara replied quietly, "So are we."
Kel heard that too.
He still didn't comment.
---
By late afternoon they'd quietly filled the remaining short slots with two more young women—one as a junior tech hand to support Tessa in the field, and one as an extra security/driver to keep rotations sane on the Periphery run. Mara kept the interviews efficient. Tessa kept them honest. Kel kept them grounded: competence first, then discipline.
Men continued to drift in.
Mara continued to filter them out without ever saying the quiet truth out loud.
Kel didn't stop her.
He didn't need a mixed crew to feel like a man.
He needed a crew he could trust not to fracture in the dark.
And the women they hired—awkward with praise, inexperienced with relationships, young enough to still be unsure how to belong—fit the unit's shape the way armor fit a chassis:
Not pretty.
Just right.
---
Unit Ledger — Iron Inheritance (Running C-Bill Log)
(Maintained by Mara Saito; updated end of TSD 3049-10-06)
Starting balances (from end Chapter 10)
Liquid on hand: 227,450
Restricted/held: 25,000
Hiring & Outfitting (Mission 2 prep)
Sign-on bonus: Avery Quill (Security/Driver) −4,000
Sign-on bonus: Nadia Krieger (Logistics/Driver) −4,000
Sign-on bonus: Junior Tech Hand (Tessa's assistant) −3,000
Sign-on bonus: Extra Security/Driver (rotation coverage) −3,000
Basic gear issue (4x flak/field kits/helmets/comms) −18,500
Small arms procurement (2x rifles + parts/ammo) −7,200
Wage reserve set-aside (21 days, pro-rated) −22,000 (earmarked, still liquid but "spoken for")
MRB contract processing addendum −1,500
Total immediate outflow: −63,200
Current balances
Current liquid on hand: 164,250 C-bills
Restricted/held: 25,000 C-bills (not accessible)
Earmarked wage reserve (inside liquid): 22,000