At 06:01 she jogged back onboard the Excel, ducked into her quarters, and shut off the alarm on her way to the shower. The shower would take fifteen minutes.
Once clean and dressed, Shino took a further fifteen minutes to run her dirty clothes through the laundry unit, then press and fold them. After they were stowed away, she went to the cockpit and began the ship's daily maintenance schedule; it was imperative that the Excel always be ready to depart on a moment's notice.
This alone was not unusual. The daily erasure of traceable data from the ship's logs, that was another matter. Since the Excel had been docked for the last few weeks there was little to erase today, but when the ship was in use Shino regularly deleted everything from transmission records to fuel burn numbers. It was possible that some of the missing data was, in fact, encrypted to a datapad for temporary reference, but if so, Shino wasn't telling.
Currently she was pondering the possibility of installing an emergency main systems wipe function coupled to a clean backup navigation computer, just in case.
Each day she also checked the storage containers in the cargo bay. The containers held widely commercially available third-party supplies, removed from their original shipping pallets and repacked to prevent their being linked back to a particular shipment and purchaser.
In another person, this would seem paranoid. For Shino, this was simply professional prudence, given her employer's situation.
Barring any briefings or special assignments, work onboard continued until a half-hour lunch at precisely noon. Two hours of target practice and weapons maintenance were next, then more work on the ship until 18:00 and dinner. Like lunch, dinner lasted a half-hour. Inventory and accounting passed the time from 18:30 to 19:30 before the evening wound down with an hour of light exercise followed by an hour and a half of quiet reading. Lights out was at 22:00.
Shino found it quite a full schedule. Physically, at least.
10:47
Navi wasn't familiar with the regimen, but she didn't have to be as everyone knew Shino was always in the ship bay. Even as an officer of the Consortium she'd bunked onboard the Morningstar instead of in the barracks or a rented room, and nothing changed once she bought her own ship and worked under freelance contract. It was a bit odd, but on the other hand, it was convenient to have a pilot and ship perpetually on-call. The Consortium didn't even have to pay her overtime for stand-by duty.
Since there was no need to page first, Navi went straight to the Excel's usual berth. Two things struck her about the ship; first, it was even more immaculate than the Hapan vessels around it, which was no minor feat. Second, the main ramp was down and scratchy noise emanated from within, but there was no sign of Shino.
Navi paused at the edge of the ramp and peered up into the spotless, brightly-lit interior. Scratchy noise resolved into pounding, disjointed electronic music, blasted from the ship's internal comm. Navi found it hardly an aesthetic improvement over Kalita shrieking and banging her fork on the table. "Captain?" Navi shouted, feeling slightly awkard. "Hello? Ca... whatever. Shino?"
As the Jedi pondered how wasteful it would be to use Force to locate Shino, the interior cargo bay door shusshed open and Shino emerged, datapad in hand. She nodded and smiled politely at Navi. "Hello, Navi. What brings you here?"
"What?"
"Sorry." Shino tapped a control panel by the door and the music died down to a tolerable background level. "What brings you here?"
"It's Kalita's birthday next week," Navi said. She handed Shino a white envelope, embossed with a florid Hapan insignia. "So, this one is yours."
"Her birthday? Congratulations," Shino said perfunctorily.
Navi pointedly added, "There's going to be a party."
"Understood." Shino gave the slightest of puzzled shrugs. "But then why would you require the Excel's services?"
"I don't! It's an invitation. If you'd like to come."
Shino looked at the envelope for the first time. "Oh. Thank you. It's an honor." Then, after some hesitation as she tried and failed to imagine what to buy the child who had everything, "What does she want for her birthday?"
Navi grinned. "Don't worry about it, Karlo spoils her as it is. Just show up. You're free that evening, right?"
For a brief moment, images of financial spreadsheets and computer spec manuals flashed through Shino's head. "Yes. Yes, of course."
"See you there, then."
12:20
The invitation card was propped up on the table. Shino glanced at it frequently while she ate.
Well, it was an amusing coincidence.
True, a roomful of brats and bigwigs was an unpleasant prospect. But the alternative was to turn 36 without even an engineering droid for company.
At least there was always next year to look forward to. If things worked out, she might actually have a crewmate or two, and real birthdays to celebrate.
She tucked the card into a pocket and whistled happily to herself as she dumped her garbage into the recyc unit.
16:55
Tolin Fes, Technician Third Class, Royal Hapan Navy, stood a few respectful feet from the Excel and called up, "Excuse me? Captain Kovach?"
Boots echoed on metal as Shino, who had been polishing the top of the Excel, walked to the edge of the main disc and looked down at the young tech below. Next to him was a pallet of supplies. "Yes, Technician?"
"As requested," he chirped. "Your cleaning supplies. Although this ship's in beautiful condition already."
"Thanks, Technican..."
"Fes, Tolin Fes," he volunteered. "Third Class. Well, Second Class soon, with any luck."
Shino nodded. "Good to hear. But, if I may ask--"
"Anything, what?"
"Why is a tech on delivery duty?"
Fes grinned in embarassment. "I was headed this way. And, to be honest, Captain, I just wanted a closer look at the Excel."
"It's just Kovach, Fes. I'm only 'Captain' when the bigshots are around."
"Affirmative, Kovach," Fes beamed. "So, I've wanted to know, what's it like, having your own ship? Always dreamed of having my own, someday. With my salary, nothing as nice as a 2400, but..."
"That right?" She looked down at him, wondered how old he was. Barely over twenty, maybe. Still a kid, and more puppylike than her own brother ever was at that age. "The truth is, it's the best and worst thing in the world."
"How so?"
Shino gave him a knowing smile. "Figure once you've got your own ship you can go anywhere, do anything, right? No more taking shit from bureaucrats and petty officers?"
"Yeah!"
"That's the best part. Worst part's knowing what to do with that freedom once you have it."
Fes frowned. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by his commlink. "Fes! Are you still malingering down in the ship bay?"
"Ah, yes sir--that is--"
"Well, get back up here, now!"
"Right, sir." Fes looked an apology at Shino. "Duty calls."
"Don't I know it."
"If you don't mind, maybe we could talk more about this later?"
Shino waved a hand at him and turned back to her ship. "Sure, Fes. You know where to find me. Now get a move on before they bust your ass, you've still got a job to do."
21:14
Normally Shino would already be in her bunk, memorizing another few chapters of some tech manual before she went to sleep, but today had been rather strange.
She sat in the cockpit and idly waited for the computer to digest the astrogation data. The data was as good as ancient, but she wasn't about to ask the Hapans to procure an update. It was just a little exercise to pass the time, in any case.
Hyperspace calculations began to appear on the main screen.
At the bottom was Estimated Time to Core: followed by a large number.
Shino ignored it. She ran this calculation a few times a year, and the number increased each time; the current total was no surprise. She pressed another few keys and leaned back in her seat.
Another line popped up onscreen. Probability of Jump Error: 91%
This number increased each time, too.
Every year for the better part of a decade, Shino had sat back and watched the set of coordinates she called "home" drift further and further away in every possible sense. It had been easier to accept when she'd had no choice, but now she had the Excel. Not even the Consortium, Jedi, and Rangers combined could prevent her from simply engaging the drive and taking off into the night. And however wild the initial jump, she knew she'd still find her way back in the end. It would be a strikingly simple thing to return to the Empire, stroll in the door of her parents' cantina, and forget all about the last seven years.
Karlo and the Queen would probably have fits. The image was strangely appealing.
Once the calculations were wiped from the computer, Shino returned to quarters and impassively resumed her reading. No going home tonight, either.
After all, she had a birthday party to attend.