Major Jax had a personal code. She never sold herself to a man she outranked. Well a woman had to have some standards. Now as she watched the girls sweeping up broken glass from the reception area, she had to admit that a lot of her previous standards had started to slip.

The girls swept up, because Jax could no longer spare the money for cleaning staff. And her three so-called guards were down in Dr Sheni's clinic getting patched up. Well, three of her four guards. The other one had run away when the trouble started. Obviously decided he wasn't getting paid enough for this crap. He was probably right.

Now she had to find the money to repair the reception room. As the commanding officer of the facility she was under no obligation to service clients, but had found herself doing so more and more lately, as money became tighter and tighter. And that standard about only men who outranked her would soon go by the wayside. Possibly already had. That one the other night, he had to have been a lieutenant. She had no way to check any more, that was the problem.

Back in the old days, every man who came in had to show his ID. Any trouble and not only would he get a hiding from her guards, she'd report him to his CO. Then everything fell apart. The recall order came and her guards left. So many of the humans left, only the lifers staying behind. Then the news came about Earth and the humans started coming back. But now they were desperate, frightened creatures, seeking sanctuary, not men on leave looking for fun.

When they came here now, they wanted to forget their troubles for a few hours. But underlying everything was always an undercurrent of tension. That had exploded last night into a melee that station security had finally broken up.

She'd hired new guards when the humans started arriving back on the station. Hiring them felt so strange. Not just requesting suitable men be assigned to her, but hiring them, negotiating pay, weeding out the ones that were going to be more trouble than they solved. And even then, the ones she'd found were useless. Quickly overwhelmed in the fight last night she'd had to wait until station security arrived and started busting heads and dragging people off before the place stopped resembling a war zone.

"Wow they weren't kidding."

Jax looked up at a woman standing at the door. A very plain faced older woman, with short hair and dark clothes. Jax looked at the girls still clearing up the mess.

"Go and make some tea," she ordered them. Nervous of the snap in her voice, they hurried off.

"I take mine with sugar," the woman at the door called after them. She stepped inside, avoiding the broken furniture. Jax saw she had two big men with her, though had enough restrain to leave them outside.

"If you've come to gloat, Etta, you can just fuck off."

Etta shook her head. "I don't want to gloat. Though the words 'I told you so' are making a break for this conversation."

"Funny." Jax picked up a piece of plastic that she couldn't even identify and tossed it into the heap in the middle of the floor.

"I'm not trying to be funny. You should reconsider my offer."

Etta had offered an alliance, Jax's girls and hers. The one's she "protected." Though Jax almost laughed to think of them as girls. None of Jax's staff was over the age of twenty five, no; one turned twenty six last week. All young and lovely and healthy. Etta's were mostly women who'd had to leave the service for whatever reason and needed money. On drugs half of them. Hell, some of them had amputations. Jax was hardly a prude, but some things freaked her out.

"I don't need the protection of criminals," Jax said. Most of the lifers in the station were hard working and honest people, in her opinion, but some had found more nefarious ways of making money. Etta was one of them. A pimp and a gangster and Jax wanted no dealings with her. "I can take care of my girls."

Etta just looked around the smashed room. "If you say so."

"Get out of here, now. I don't need you."

"You may change your mind soon. One of your girls already did."

"What?"

"She came to me after last night. Wants to set up on her own. Seems she doesn't trust you to take care of her interests any more."

Jax could have attacked the hard-faced bitch there and then.

"You're poaching my girls? Which one? They can't just leave! That's desertion!"

Etta laughed. "Not any more it's not. When are you going to see that, Jax? Look at you; you're still wearing your insignia! What do you really think that means now?"

"It means discipline! It means not giving in to chaos."

"It means you're too blind to see that things have changed. You'll soon find out which girl, Major. And she won't be the last."

Etta gave the wrecked room a last look, then left, her feet crunching on granules of glass. Jax sighed and sank down onto a plump sofa, which had an armrest ripped off and the cushions burst open. A moment later one of the girls almost tiptoed into the room, carrying a cup of tea.

Jax took it with a weak smile and thanks, and thought about asking the girl which of her colleagues was missing this morning. But then decided that she didn't have the strength to have a scene about it right now.

"Should we go on clearing up, Major?"

"Take a break," Jax said. "Finish your tea." The girl nodded and hurried away, leaving her CO alone.

Jax rested her head back on the sofa and sighed. What the hell did she do now? She could just give in and hand control of the place over to Etta. Why the hell should she care? This was just a posting like any other. Why should she try to keep it running like this? Someone has to look out for the staff though. Jax didn't want them working for that gangster. She knew enough history about her profession to know how things were before it became official and regulated. Her girls didn't deserve to put up with that sort of crap.

"Major Jax?"

A woman's voice that she didn't recognise made her open her eyes.

"Yes?" A starship officer stood in the doorway, in perfect uniform. A couple of burly Marines flanked her, one carrying a leather coat.

"I'm Captain Bara. I thought we could have a talk."

Bara. Jax knew the name of course. The pirate. What the hell could she want here?

Bara gestured behind herself and a couple more Marines came in, carrying boxes and crates.

"What's this?" Jax asked, standing up.

"I recently salvaged some cargo from a wreck, far more than I can use for my crew. So I'm distributing some to the human population of this station. Anyone who's in need."

"Who said, I'm in need?" Jax demanded, bristling.

Bara looked around and Jax deflated. Fair point. Oh, what the hell?

"Okay, bring it in." The Marines brought in the boxes, placed them in the middle of the room and took off the lids. Jax glanced inside. Food, coffee, tea. Well, that would save her some money for a week or two anyway.

"What happened here?" Bara asked.

Jax sighed and sat down, her knees feeling weak suddenly. She told Bara what happened, she told her why it happened. She told her everything. God, it just felt good to talk to someone who understood. Someone who still wore a proper uniform. Someone who maintained discipline.

Bara sat beside her and listened, making sympathetic noises, not speaking much, until Jax ran out of steam. As she finished speaking, one of the Marines handed both women tea. She hadn't even seen him go into the back rooms.

"Thank you," Bara said, "Major, I see your problem. You've been left high and dry here. It's not only a question of the protection of the guards here on the premises, is it? It's the protection you used to enjoy as part of the military."

"That's exactly it!" She understood. Most people didn't.

"I want to help you, Major." Bara said, "You are trying to do the best for your staff. As a fellow commander I fully understand that. If you agree to it, I will assign some men from my ship as guards here. But more importantly I will make it known that this establishment is under my protection. I won't be on the station all of the time, of course, but I will make it clear that anyone who causes you any inconvenience will answer to me when I return."

Jax stared for a moment. Why the hell would she do this? Because they were the same, perhaps, both hanging on to the last vestiges of discipline? Because they were fellow commanders and Jax was in distress? There'd be something else though. Everything had a price; nobody knew that better than Jax.

"What do you want in return, Captain?" Jax asked. She expected a frown, but Bara just smiled.

"We understand each other I see, Major. Very well. All I really want is for your staff to go on doing the job they've always done. Gathering intelligence."

Jax raised her eyebrows, surprised. Ah this one knew more than most.

"Your staff hear everything that is going on, and perhaps more importantly what people are saying about it, feeling about it. I'd like to know all that."

"Why?"

"It's useful information."

A good answer, Jax thought. A sound reason, yet giving away nothing at all. Well, it seemed like a small price. She thought of Etta for a moment. Etta was a gangster and this woman a pirate. Was that worse? But who called her a pirate? The Big Four, the people that she fought against and took revenge on. Not exactly objective.

"My girls won't service your guards or your crew for free," Jax said.

"Of course not." Bara looked shocked at the idea.

"Then we have a deal."

~o~

Bara left the brothel and paused.

"Coat, please," she said. One of the Marines stepped forward and held the coat as she slipped her arms into it.

"Time?"

"11:14, ma'am."

"Right. The others should be waiting in the bar."

She strode off and the guards followed her. Now she'd made the deal with the whorehouse, she had to secure the one with the bar. They were two of the best places on the station to gather information, and she wanted to make sure that this information was channelled to her.

After a quick eyeballing session between her guards and the bouncers on the door, Bara found her people waiting in Dav's tavern. Officers at one table, crew people and Marines at another. All of them were quiet and tense.

Loosen up, dammit. We're here for some R&R. Well, so everyone else is meant to think. One of her guards went to the bar while she sat down at the table with the officers. The tavern was about half full and rather quiet. Mostly humans, a few aliens, and for the humans it was still early, not even lunchtime yet. Some people wearing the station maintenance crew overalls sat at a corner table, the most mixed, species wise, of all the groups in the bar.

"Captain," Alex said. "How did it go?"

"Exactly as planned. I made a new friend." She laughed. He didn't. No damn sense of humour. Look at him, sitting there scowling, face like thunder. If he disapproves does he not have the balls to say so? She noticed that Sev, sitting beside Alex of course, rested his hand so it pressed against the side of the other man's hand. Did they have to keep on shoving it down her throat like that? What they got up to in private she didn't care about, but they didn't have to flaunt it.

Actually, she did care about it, private or not. Fraternising, that's what it was and she didn't approve of it, any more than the old captain had. They'd not dared when he'd been around. Why did they dare now? Perhaps they thought she was weak? Well, perhaps she was. Not in herself, not personally, but her authority was weaker, because she stood alone. She couldn't have the pair of them transferred; she could only make her disapproval clear. They didn't seem to care.

Her drink arrived and she smiled her thanks at the Marine, making him blush just a little.

Sipping the drink, she looked at Sev again. Specifically, at his hair. When the hell was he going to get that cut? Everyone else maintained standards, but he had to be different, the little freak. Always been different, and in her opinion, never in a good way. Now he thought he could do what he liked. He'd learn. If Alex wanted to stay her first officer and chief engineer - and he was at least good at the engineering - then he'd have to cut his little freak boyfriend loose. Speaking of cutting.

"There's still a barber on this station. I hope you'll all find the time to visit before we leave again."

Poisonous look from the freak. She could order him, and she'd look like a fool if he refused. What the hell would she even do if he refused? Shoot him for not getting his hair cut? That would make her look like an even bigger fool. But how long would she let it go on? Hah! How long would she let it grow on?

One of her officers was reading something, a printed sheet, no a few sheets, folded together.

"What's that?"

He handed it to her at once. "A sort of news sheet, Captain. One of the residents says it comes out every couple of days."

Bara looked at it intrigued, her worry over the threat to discipline that was Sev's hair temporarily forgotten. News stories, events on the station, events going on off the station, including, she smiled, events involving the Trebuchet and herself. Rumours and whispers about the damn Committee fleet.

She had begun to think that fleet might be nothing more than rumour. A fantasy that desperate, scared people came up with to give them hope. They needed a more solid foundation than rumour for that hope, in her opinion. Down on the lower levels last night, as her people gave out the goods she had brought to the station, she talked to people, and she heard a lot of fear, a lot of despair.

Time for that to change.

She glanced through the rest of the newspaper. After the first few pages it was mostly information, including opening times and prices for a clinic run by a Dr Sheni. Interesting. The rest was advertisements for shops, services and cafés.

"Here we go," Alex muttered softly and Bara's people tensed as several young men entered the bar.

They were a tough looking crew. Though they wore civilian clothes, Bara happened to know they were all ex-infantry. A team used to working together in the field. Now they had a little job to do for her. They'd already got some nice free goodies last night, care packages. And with them they'd been offered the chance to earn some cold hard cash. And all it would cost them was a night in the holding cells, if they couldn't run away fast enough when station security arrived. Finally arrived, she should say, and smirked.

She had a strong suspicion that station security could be rather tied up right now.