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John looked around the space port, it still was a wonder to the little eight year old boy but so was flying in a freighter with his uncle. This morning uncle had informed him that they were getting a new crew member.

"But why Uncle?" John had asked, "Am I not good enough?"

"No John" said Uncle, "I'm helping out a old friend thats in debt. I'm paying for the work of her daughter and taking her to see the stars like I am you."

A woman approached, stepping quickly and looking around as though the world itself agitated her. There was a little creature clutching at her hand and practically running to keep up with her. It was a little girl, with golden blond hair and bluish gray eyes, and a rather deep frown was stuck on both of their faces. "Hurry up, June, we're late!" The woman whispered. She looked up, apparently relieved when she saw the man and the boy with him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! We had trouble getting a transport!"

"Its no problem" said Uncle, smiling and holding up his arms for a hug, "How have you been?" John just looked at the girl, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You the girl?" asked John, looking at her golden hair.

The woman smiled, giving Uncle a warm, albeit flustered, hug. June crossed her arms as well, her small mouth pushing into a slow scowl. "No, I'm June! Are YOU the girl?"

The woman blushed slightly at the little girl's snappish remark. She looked at Uncle, clearly embarrassed. "She's not always this...well...she can be quite sweet when she..." She coughed, reaching over and giving June's ear a light tug. "June, this is John. Be polite."

June merely scowled deeper, her hands going to rest on her small, girlish hips as her large eyes narrowed aggressively.

John looked up at his uncle. "Do we have to take her?" He asked, "I bet she has cooties and girl germs.”
Uncle burst out laughing and ruffled John's brown hair. "I don't think girl germs can live in space" he said, giving the woman a smile and wink. He then slipped a packet from his jacket pocket and handed it to the woman. "Thats for five years" he said, "And if you still need more, just ask."

June's scowl slowly changed...from a scowl into something a bit meeker. She watched out of the corner of her eye as her mother accepted the packet. She knew what it was, and she knew why it was being given. But after a moment, her expression hardened once more and she turned her fierce eyes back on John. "I don't got cooties!"
Her mother sighed, but gave Uncle a tired sort of smile and patted June's head. She waved as she left, but June didn't watch her leave.

She was busy glaring at John.

June sat on the floor, her back pressed up against her bed and her knees tucked up to her chest. Her head was down, her hair falling over to cover her face. Her arms were wrapped around her legs, her forehead resting against her knees. On the bed was a letter, pale yellow and with blocky print.
It was around supper time, but she neglected leaving the room.

John walked into the galley, expecting dinner to be ready. It was June's turn to cook, as he had cooked stir fry last night, not that one could tell night from day in space. Nothing was on the table and June was nowhere to be seen.

"Now" said John, "Where is she? I'm not going to let her skip out on kitchen duty."
John started poking around the ship, first the engine room, then the cargo hold and the bridge(even thought thats where he had come from to get dinner). Not finding her, John went to her quarters. He opened the door but didn't look in, he had made that mistake once before, caught her dancing around in her panties. June decked him good for it.

"June" said John, "When's dinner?"

June's head was barely visible over the bed, but she didn't move. She fought the urge to sigh, slowly lifting her head and speaking in a surprisingly dull tone. "I'll get on it."

She rose to her feet, shoulders slumped just the slightest bit, face still obscured by her golden curtain of hair. She said nothing, though she might have normally hollered at him for not knocking. She didn't look him in the eyes, merely walked by and trudged towards the kitchen. She left the pale letter and its factual words laying unattended on the bed.

John watched June walk past him. Her tone was dull and somewhat hopeless for the few words she had said. He had been expecting a tongue lashing for opening her door at least. As she head for the galley, John glanced into the room to make sure it hadn't been him that caused this. There on her bed was a piece of yellow paper. Deciding to snoop, John walked in and pick up the paper. His eyes moved back and forth as he read each word.

June began plucking bowls from shelves and twisting knobs on the oven, her eyes almost glazed over as she started in on putting noodles to boil, heating up sauce, cooking a bit of meat. Spaghetti was an easy meal, and she wasn't in the mood for complexity. The words she had just read passed before her eyes as she worked, and she sighed.

To Whom it may concern:
Yesterday (date date date date, did it really matter?), Mrs. Sarah Jean Wolfe expired in St. Calisbury Hospital, located in (some section of the galaxy that wasn't here, and thus was not important) succumbing to (reasons reasons, some disease, just pointless facts). We regret to inform you (the nameless 'you' was, one could assume, June) that Mrs. Wolfe had no...

And the letter had continued on, rambling briefly about how Sarah had perished with no fortune to her name, no notable possessions, and any of the above two were to be used to pay for debts, anyway.
June attempted to scowl, the snort, to make some derisive expression...but nothing came.

"By the void" whispered John, as he finished the letter. He stared down at it for a few minutes more, he understood now why she sounded so hopeless. He placed the letter down and took a deep breath. Walking out of the room, he made for the galley. John could see June standing over the stove and staring. Taking another breath, John walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around June's waist.

June started slightly, lifting her eyes from the pot she had been stirring at the shock of human touch. She felt a sort of twitch in her chest, as though she were reading the letter for the first time. She felt her eyes stinging, and tried to will the feeling away, but it stayed. Why should she feel any grief? The woman who had died, she hadn't seen since she had watched her take that packet from Uncle so many years ago. But it still hurt.

Without thinking, she turned and threw her arms around the shoulders of whoever it was that had come up behind her. It was John, she realized as she pressed her face into his chest. She quivered, feeling pitiful and foolish as she squeezed her eyes shut and willed them to cease watering.

"I shouldn't care...I shouldn't care!" She wheezed, feeling worse with each word.

John had held her loose enough to turn around and then tightened his hug. He could feel June quiver and press her face against himself. He nodded and rubbed her back, just moving his hands. He felt bad for June but couldn't feel anything for her mother, he had never known her and only seen her once. Uncle had known her and considered her a great friend, if one that couldn't handle money. That had been the reason June had come aboard, to help settle a few debts.

June finally sniffed, pulling back and rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. She kept her head lowered, embarrassed at the inexplicable emotions. She should have chuckled at the letter and tossed it out. Why in the whole wide solar system was she upset?

"Sorry..." She mumbled, eyes still lowered. "I...I'll get back to..." And she motioned to the pots on the stove.
"Its alright" said John, loosing is hug a little, "I'll take care of it. I can take care of everything for the next few days. Do you want to lay down or take a seat?" He kept rubbing June's back with his hands.

June managed a small smile, but kept her eyes focused on her boots. It struck her at that moment that, despite the constant bickering and one-upmanship that defined their relationship...John truly was her friend. Her best friend. She wrapped her arms around his middle, giving him a firm squeeze and looking up with a tired sort of smile.

"Thanks, John...really. You...you're a good..." But the words simply refused to form on her tongue. So she smiled, hugging him once more before moving off to slump on a bench, rubbing hard at her eyes.

John watched as June took a seat on a bench and turned to the stove. The pasta was starting to boil. He turned down the heating unit under the pasta, so the sauce could get warmed up. He rummaged in the cabinets, grabbing a few spices and set to work on the sauce. Once the meat had browned, he spooned it into the sauce. When both sauce and pasta were ready, John turned off the heating units and drained the pasta. He grabbed two plates and places pasta and sauce on each. John placed the plates next to each other on the table and went to get silverware and cups.
June rubbed at the back of her neck, watching John go about out of the corner of her eye. She tried to pinpoint when, exactly, they had stopped pulling each other's hair and throwing rolled up paper balls at the back of one another's heads...but she couldn't really think of a specific time.

"Thanks," She said again as she was handed silverware. The food was good, and a hot meal was comforting. But something else was bothering her. Chewing her food, she said in an almost cautious voice, "Uncle might...I mean, without Sarah...mom...Uncle might not want me on the Banshee anymore."

John set the cups down and poured some of Uncle's stash of Earth red wine. He sat down and patted June's knee. "Uncle didn't take you aboard because he was paying your mom" he said, looking at her, "He took you aboard as a favor to your mom, to make sure you had a place to stay. He's not going to get rid of you now that you have no where else to go."

June's mouth pulled into a slow smile. She took a gulp of wine, feeling warmth spread throughout her core. She looked up, almost hesitant. "..Really?"

She then laughed, winding up another fork of pasta. "...And to think, all this time I thought I was making sure he was getting his money's worth!"

"Nope" said John, giving June's knee a squeeze, "To make sure you had a home." With that said, he started on his own pasta. He didn't twirl a fork full but used the fork to scoop up some and then slurp the rest, like he had always done.

For a moment, June flashed an expression that was perhaps happier than any she had ever shown. She then dug into the meal, a quiet grin on her face. Home...

She was home.

June's boots echoed softly in the hallways. She walked slowly, one hand to her head. Crying always gave her the worst headache...and she had been doing plenty of it lately. She had managed to dry her eyes a bit though, knowing that John would be miserable enough without her moping around in his field of vision. She paused at his door, her fist raised to knock, then changed her mind and gently opened it. She lingered in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she looked in at him. "...John?"

John was sitting on his bed, staring down at his boots. It had only a few hours since they had returned from the hospital. Somehow Uncle had a heart attack and with them being so rare these days, the doctors didn't know just what to do to help him. Uncle had died on the table, with the doctor hesitating to do anything. Right now two things waged war in his mind, sadness and anger but sadness had won in his heart. Tear drops covered the back tops of John's boots and soaked the carpet around his feet.

June sniffed a bit, rubbing once more at her eyes. She was unsure what to do...emotional moments had never been her forte. Finally, she stepped into the room, moving across the threshold silently. After another moment of hesitation, she rested one hand almost timidly on his shoulder and took a seat next to him on the bed. "John...I..."
There was another weak pause, and she felt tears welling up once more in her eyes. He hadn't even been her relative, but he might as well have been. It was still a great blow. But she could scarcely even imagine how hurt the man's actual nephew would be feeling. "..I'm sorry.."

John looked up, drawing in a ragged breath. His eyes were blood shot from crying, John had never cried in his life, while not that he would emit. He just looked at June with a deer in the headlights look. He licked his lips in an absent manner and a vein in his neck twitched.

"He......He....He left me everything" said John in a shocked and lost voice, "Th.....Th....The ship....Her cargo.....your contract......" John just trailed off and tears leaked down his face. He closed his eyes and leaned his face down on June's shoulder, covering his eyes in her shirt. He started to weep silently.

June felt the tears begin to slide down her face once more. She wrapped her arms around her friend, squeezing her eyes shut and merely clutching at him as the two tough spacers wept over the loss of the man that had virtually fathered both of them. Her tears fell on his neck, and for a moment the ship was silent. Then she pressed her face into his shoulder, emitting a shaky sigh.

"'Course he did...he loved you, John." She said in a ragged whisper.

John's shoulders shook after June spoke, that really cut John's heart strings. His tears had stopped and John took in another breath, tremors going through him.

"He's really gone" whispered John, wrapping his long arms around June. He need to touch and feel living flesh right under him right now. He felt like a large part of him had been cut from his body and he had been thrown into the empty void of space that Uncle had loved so much.

June gave John a tight squeeze, then gently pulled back, just enough to meet his eyes. And she shook her head, tears still slipping down her cheeks. "No...he ain't really gone...I don't think he ever will be..."
She sniffed once more and dropped her eyes for a second, swallowing hard as she looked back up. She rested one hand on his chest, over his heart. "He's still there, ain't he?"

John nodded dumbly and sniffed. "I....I....I guess so" he said, pulling his hand over hers, "But I feel so empty. Like I've lost a large part of me. I don't know what to do now, should I take more time from the run and grieve or finish on time? What would Uncle do in my place?" Tears leaked down his face again.

June merely sniffed once more, attempting to mop up some of the moisture from her cheeks with her shoulder. She thought for a while on the question, thinking back on every moment and every decision that she had ever seen Uncle make. "I...I think..." She cleared her throat, meeting his red eyes with her red eyes. "...I think he'd..."

But she couldn't think of what it was that Uncle would have done in this moment. What would he have done if it was John that was cold and stiff? But she couldn't even think of that. If John were to...

"..He'd do what he felt was right.." She said softly, her voice hoarse. "...He'd show respect to the man that made him a man by keeping his name on the top of every list."

John nodded again. "Finish the run then....I think" said John, second guessing himself a little. He stared at June for a minute or so, steadying his breathing. He then pulled her into a tight hug.

"Thank you" he whispered, lightly crushing her to his chest, "Thank you." He then slowly released her and looked into her eyes. They were still close. John leaned in a little, like he was going for a kiss. "I'll be on the bridge" he whispered, standing and heading out of his room.

June was left sitting on John's bed by herself, feeling slightly dazed. She had just been leaning in to...what? John had gone forward, and she had gone forward as well...and then he had left. She closed her eyes, then quickly rubbed the moisture from her face and rose to her feet.

There was work to be done.

June shifted the weight of the supplies in her arms, heaving an aggravated sigh as she fumbled for her key to the bridge. She finally managed to get the door opened, and stepped in with a great sigh of relief. She had spent almost the entire day running errands, gathering much needed materials for what was looking to be a long voyage. She moved about, placing things in their appropriate containers and areas, and was just moving into her last deposit spot when she saw him. She stopped, her expression blank as she stared at the husky-like Turun that was sitting there like it was nobody's business.

"What the hell?"

The Turun look up from where he was sitting. You could see him shaking in fear and he let out a soft dog like whine. He held his arms into his chest and started curling into a ball.
John was heading to the bridge from the engine room when he heard June's voice. "Oh Crap" thought John, starting to run, "I didn't think she'd be back yet" When he reached the bridge, he spotted June staring at The Turun that he had gotten at the slave market that morning.

"Jack" said John, going to the Turun's side and throwing an arm around him, "Its alright Jack, she's a nice lady."

June's great blue-gray eyes blinked a few times. She stared from John to...'Jack,' as he called him. She couldn't quite register, at first, what was going on. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth, the reopened it. This time, she was able to speak.

"John...what the hell is going on here?" Her voice was cold, carrying a fierce edge to it. "What's he doing here?"

John could feel Jack shake more under his arm as June spoke. Jack's last owner and his breeder had been a woman that yelled a lot and Jack was scared of women in general now. Patting Jack's shoulder, John stood, took June by the arm and walked her off the bridge.

"I can explain" said John, closing the door to the bridge, "What do you want to know first?" He knew he was in for a tongue lashing. June didn't like him making choices for the ship without her in the first place and didn't like the slave trade as well.

June's arm tensed under John's grasp. She felt her jaw tighten as she considered his question. He said he could explain...which meant that this was something that needed explaining. Once they were parked in the hall, she turned her angry eyes on him.

"What do I want to know? How about...what is a slave doing on the Banshee?"

"I," said John, "I bought him. He was at auction in the market and we need another pair of hands. His cost was less then a another person's wages for a year. I thought it be better if I took him then someone that would make him labor in a mine or other work. He seem fairly smart and very scared on the block."

June's jaw dropped. She had known, of course, what he was going to say. How many explanations could there possibly be for a slave being on a ship? But it was still shocking to hear him actually say...he had bought a slave. John had bought a slave. The bit about him being strong, or smart, or scared, or any of that...she missed it completely. All she could hear was John's voice, saying those words...'I bought him.'

She jerked her arm out of his grasp, her mouth snapping shut. "You...you what? No..." She shook her head, pressing a few fingers into her eyes, refusing to look at him.

"John." But she said nothing more, merely glancing up and giving him an absolutely betrayed look.

John fumbled for words, nothing seem right to defuse June. "I....um....I" he gritted his teeth, "I did and I stand by it. He has a much better life work besides us then he would in the hands of some Slave Guild member. We're not going to beat, starve or abuse him like they would. besides I've been working on a contract for him, to protect him from resale and make sure he is freed after a term of service aboard the banshee."

June crossed her arms, turning her back to him. She ground her teeth, trying to think of a proper return to his words. She knew they were true, and she knew he had a valid point. A more than valid point. But it still rubbed at her nerves. She found herself thinking back to one of her earliest memories...watching Uncle handing a packet to her mother, watching her mother take it...and then leave. She felt a rush of emotions that were both confusing and...anything negative that she could ever think of. She couldn't hear John's explanation. She couldn't feel anything beyond the whirlwind of hurt and anger that had bubbled up the second she saw the slave. Finally, she turned and spat out the most hurtful thing she could think of.

"Your Uncle would never do this!"

And with this, she turned and marched away.

June's words were like a knife to John's heart and then a twist. As she walked away, John's face twisted in anger and he blurted out one of the most stupid things he had ever said and most likely would ever say.

"He bought you," called John, taking in a deep breath and shaking a little, "I watched him!" He then grasped just what he had said.

"I didn't mean that" he followed after a few seconds, eyes wide in shock at just what had come out of his mouth seconds before.

June stopped. She looked as though she had just been shot. Or stabbed. Or kicked. Something violent. She bit down hard on her lip, her fists clenching. She couldn't move, speak, shout, or do anything that she might have wanted to do. John's words, along with those bitter memories, rattled around in her being. Her throat tightened, and she felt her eyes burning. Hot tears began to form and slide down her cheeks as her shoulders began to shake.

Against her will, she turned and shot John a single wet, furious glance. She said nothing. And she would say nothing to him for days. Not until she came up and informed him that she had purchased her own ship.