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The vesk (a lizard warrior race, he goes by Bob due to pronunciation issues) who officially recruits me (he seems the least skeezy, but I think that has more to do with him not being a mammal than any inherent personality traits). Bob wears patched golemforged plating armor that needs some more work (specifically a pretty big gouge along the back), carries a doshko on his back (three triangular blades arranged in a row and attached to a long haft, a traditional Vesk weapon), as well as an artillery laser (a big, two-handed laser gun, good for laying down the hurt).

I follow him to his ship to evaluate it: They parked in an open field that's been blasted down to bare earth, a good hundred yards away from the next nearest ship that's on a similar patch of bare ground. Which is remarkably close considering what happens around rockets on Earth… I suppose they must be using different tech. It's a bit weird recognizing something I've never seen… but I guess that's how skills work. Under the battle damage and paint it's a Kevolari Venture… a tier one ship, mid range for the size class at about two hundred feet long, an explorer base frame with a lot of cargo room, a few weapons, some shields, some armor, a drift engine, and little else. Very industrial… and they came really close to losing entirely: Saying the hull needs some work is putting it mildly, it's more laser burns that hull, and several things are bent a little out of place… I worry for the underlying systems. Ironically, those can be fixed without cost, while the hull will get expensive. I can probably get the hull done for around two hundred fifty credits? I don't know where my head is getting that number, though.

“Looks like you got out of that fight by the skin of your teeth,” I nod, “but hey, you're alive.”

“Yeah… it's worse inside,” the Vesk rolls his eyes, “Let's go introduce you to the others.” I follow as Bob leads, up a cargo ramp into a cargo bay full of smoke, into a ship that has a rather lot of wires hanging down from exploded power conduits.

“So landing was difficult, then?” I cringe as we walk past the power core, a pulse gray core (pretty much entry level power) that looks like it's seriously malfunctioning.

“You have NO idea,” my guide chuckles as we get to the bridge, where we interrupt a conversation between two men: An elf and a human.

The elf has the classic pointed ears and angular face of his race, with green hair and matching emerald eyes. He's tall (a little over six feet) and is wearing a slightly discolored Second Skin armor under his clothes, which are basically a brown leather jacket, matching trousers, and scorched leather boots. He has a tactical gnome scout gun on his belt, and carries a stylish cane… that has a quick release button, making it clear - at least to me - that it's a sword cane.

The human male is unusually short, maybe five feet even in shoes. He has red hair and matching eyes… the coloration looks like maybe a cosmetic mod, as the rest of him seems chinese. He's stocky, and wearing an armored jacket, heavy boots and gloves, numerous straps, and a helmet (currently open)... freebooter armor. He doesn't seem to be carrying a weapon.

They both stop talking when the door opens: The bridge isn't in any better shape than the rest of the ship: I have my work cut out for me.

Bob introduces me, “Gregory, Frank: I found an engineer, and she hasn't run screaming yet.” The reactions of the two men to their names tell me who's who.

The stocky human, Gregory, speaks up first, “Good. We need repairs before we can take off. You're hired. What's your name, Miss?”

“Dana,” I give a name close enough to my real one that it won't arouse suspicion if I answer to ‘Dan’ at some point, “and I see there's a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Frank, the Elf, rolls his eyes, “I was barely able to land us. We aren't going anywhere in this wreck until we can get some repairs done.”

I nod, “Give me a day or two and I can patch everything up… assuming you have UPBs to cover the hull damage… my brief inspection from outside suggests we're looking at around two hundred fifty, maybe three hundred, to get it done.” Yes, I'm giving myself a little wiggle room.

“Great! Go get started and…” the oddly-colored human begins.

“Pay scale?” I raise an eyebrow, “I'm broke, and can't front materials.” Not that my build plan is particularly dependent on gear, but it's still going to be useful.

That makes the three pause. The Vesk, Bob, speaks up first, “Zachary isn't going to need his share anymore,” he considers, “and doesn't have heirs. Thoughts on letting her inherit his share along with his work?”

The elf takes a slow breath, “I suppose we'll need to let her in on the mission…” he cringes, “...which we'd need to do anyway. I can live with it. Gregory?”

The human shrugs, “Got no other choice, and she'll be risking her neck too. Our patron should understand. I'd like her to prove she can do repairs before we commit, though.”

Mechanically, repairing systems doesn't require UPBs… “All right… I can fix a system or two as proof; we can't get off the ground without it if things are as bad as you say. Maybe the reactor?” It having issues gives a penalty to any other repairs, so it's a good place to start.

“Fine,” the green-haired, pointy-earned one nods, “Fix the reactor, and you're in, we'll trust you with the repair funds.”

I smile, and get to work… I have the reactor humming along properly in forty minutes, the engines in ten, the turret in another forty, life support in twenty. Sensors were fine, the only major system that was. The hull takes five hours, costing two hundred sixty UPBs from the ship's supplies.

And once the ship is in pristine condition, they let me in on their current contract….