FSE

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Sherra watched as an old ship started to ascend from the spaceport. It was a rattling old machine, burning smoke and fire as it coughed its dirty self out of the atmosphere. A real piece of garbage. Looking at it made Sherra miss her old ship. The old body maybe not so much. It had been a month since she had almost died. Adjusting to being her feline self had come remarkably quickly. Each morning that she woke up like this, the more normal it became, the tripping over her own tail in the morning only happening once this week. Old habits died hard, however. Sherra had an honest job working at one of the bars at the spaceports and her tiny savings were growing, but she was becoming restless, wanting to go back to the more questionable activities she had enjoyed as a human. Sherra the Ces'sharn had a clean record and she wondered how long it would last. In any case, it couldn't keep going on the way it had been for the past month. She just wasn't cut out for the boring life that so many seemed to take satisfaction in.

Footsteps hit the dusty ground from behind her. Instinctively, she sat her hand near the gun at her hip, feeling distinctly vulnerable in a body that was much weaker than her old one. Sherra turned her head to see a male feline, about six foot tall and in deep grey fur, dressed in a suit that wouldn't have looked out of place in nineteenth century Earth. He was one of the more regular customers at the bar. He leaned on the rickety fence, staring out at the spaceport with her. Sherra kept one eye on him, her hand never straying too far from the pistol she carried.

" I've seen you out here before."

" Yeah, I work here. Need to make a living somehow." She said, wondering if he was flirting with her. Every second guy seemed to want to get her attention like that. That was one thing she was struggling to get used to.

" And you hang around here after to watch the ships take off?"

" My apartment is awful and I like it here. It lets me have some time to think about things and I like the ships. They're graceful, some of them, and the ones that aren't are interesting."

He flashed a hologram in front of his eyes for a second, then turned his head to look at Sherra. " Do you like it here?"

" It's okay."

" But you're not very happy with it." He stated.

" Aren't I?"

" I can tell. Oh, you smile when you're at the counter, sure, but I can tell."

Sherra had to pause to think about what to say. She wanted to put distance between herself now and who she had been, so the insults or unfriendly reply she would have given someone in the past gave way to a more polite response. " There are better places to work."

" Worse ones, too."

" Maybe."

He took a flask from his pocket and undid the cap, taking a sip of it. " What did you really want to say to me just now?"

" I'm trying to be polite."

" I don't think that's what you were trying to say."

She looked at him. A few words of abuse came to mind. Those words weren't what the young feline named Sherra would have said. She didn't want to go down the road that she had gone down before, making few friends and a lot of enemies because of thoughtless words and a need to seem tough. It took an effort, but she managed to say something better, after a long pause.

" Sorry. I'm broke and my apartment isn't much to speak of. Neither is the city, for that matter. I've just had a long week." There, she thought. That sounded better.

" I get it. Really, I do, and I promise I'm not flirting with you." He said, hand on his chest and his voice excessively serious.

Sherra smiled. " I..." No, don't phrase it like that. " I appreciate it." That's right. Sherra would speak like that. " I'm Sherra, by the way."

" Naska."

" That sounds like a name from Ces." She observed, moving her hand away from her gun.

" Fortunately, no, it isn't. I'm a colonist through and through."

Sherra had her own story, a fictional one, but she wanted to appear reluctant to share it. " It was the same for me, although I got stuck here on Freedom's Reach. It's not much of a city. I'm just glad I was pretty enough to find some work."

" It should be better here." Naska stated.

" Like Ces?"

" No, not like that. There ought to be a better path, between this and what they have on the core worlds. The city ought to live up to its name. There's neither freedom here nor in the core, just a choice between comfort and danger. This place should be different. I want to let us feel alive, able to make a choice. Not one forced on us by corrupt business and exploitative warlords, but a real choice, even if those choices lead to harm. Free to choose death, if one wanted." He said, sounding zealous about it.

" I like the sound of it."

" It's possible. Not just a dream dancing around in my head. I know it can be done." Naska insisted.

" Hm. If you say so." No, that sounded wrong. Sherra wouldn't be so flippant about it. " I mean, it seems like a huge task to me. Then again, I'm just a bartender with five hundred credits. Nobody particularly special."

" Maybe not right now. You can be more than that - I can tell."

Even if it was flirting, and even if this man seemed slightly crazy, she still appreciated the compliment. She liked him, as idealistic as he seemed to be. " If you'd like to come up here from time to time, I'd be happy to hear more. I tend to get home before it's dark, though. This city isn't really safe."

Naska looked happy to hear that. " Would you like me to walk you?"

" Got a lot on my mind today and it's still light. Maybe you could walk me back tomorrow?"

Naska tipped his big hat. " Until then, Sherra."

" Take care of yourself."

She watched one more ship take off, a small shuttle this time, then started to walk herself back into the city well before it got dark. There was a route she could take down the main roads that was relatively safe, controlled by people who had taken it upon themselves to use security mechs. Nearly everybody carried a gun. Sherra knew how to use hers, unlike many of the others that nervously strode the streets at sunset. She got home relatively easily this time, having only gotten cat-called once from the other side of the road. It was a relief to get herself inside her dingy apartment and away from any more unwanted attention.

Sherra took off her brown jacket and threw it on the bed, laying herself down on her back and flicking on her console with a kick of her foot. It was still set to voice recording and playback. For half an hour, she spoke to it, hearing her feminine voice ring through her ears. After taking a break to get a drink, she talked again, practicing with the voice that belonged to Sherra - to her. By now she was starting to feel more comfortable with how she sounded, the tilt of her voice fitting in with how she imagined Sherra to be.

It had been a lonely existence since she had woken up with this body. That, at least, was the same always.

Another morning came along. Sherra found it easier to get herself out of bed now, the usual grumpy self she used to be in the mornings having vanished. She got dressed in a pair of jeans and a reasonably tight fitting jacket, wearing the same knee high leather boots as she usually did. As much as she was trying to be Sherra, she still didn't feel self-assured enough to dress in a more feminine manner than she did already.

An older human woman showed up in the hallway just as Sherra stepped out to head to work. She looked worn out, her clothes plain, some type of cigarrette hanging between her fingers. By the smell of it, the cigarrette was filled with something stronger than tobacco. Even out here, it was strange to see someone smoking.

" Been seeing you around here, dear. A little dangerous in Freedom's Reach for a young thing like you."

" I don't have many other places to go." Shera replied carefully.

" Don't you worry about that. Someone hassles you in this street, you come and tell me. The Matron will deal with them. Try not to go firing that thing in our territory. If you have to, you have to, but be a dear for us and try not to."

" I'll try. Thanks." Sherra offered a smile. " It's mostly for show."

" Can't say I blame you for carrying it. I understand. You'd better get yourself to work."

She gave a nod and tried to get out of there without looking too uncomfortable. They knew who she was. Well, not who she really was, but they knew Sherra. The subtext of the old woman's words had been clear enough. The Matron is in charge and don't cause any trouble. Someone had probably been keeping an eye on her for the last couple of days, likely to make sure she wasn't from a rival gang. She remembered why she never did like Freedom's Reach. Sherra had only ever stayed here for a day or two, never longer than that and for good reason.

Work was the same as it always was. The spaceport itself was technically under the rule of the core, although they only stationed a handful of security personnel. It was safe enough. Nobody dared attack the port and bring down the hammer of the core fleet. For their part, unless they came under threat, the core cared little about what went on around Freedom's Reach. It was an outer system. An irrelevance, as far as they were concerned. Sherra would serve drinks to a few customers, offering a friendly smile and some pieces of idle conversation. They seemed to like her there. Her boss, a feline from the core worlds, paid better than most would have. It was okay. Just okay.

Naska was there in the late afternoon, waiting for her.

" Tell me what you think this city should look like." Sherra said, staring out at a descending shuttle.

He smiled.