McCormick’s father had bought the Atlas the day before McCormick himself had been born. McCormick had spent half his childhood in the thing- especially starting when his mother, Ava, had gone back to school when he was seven. She’d wanted more than anything to become a doctor, and thus McCormick Sr. had wanted nothing more than for his wife to fulfill her lifelong dream. So young Eddie McCormick Jr. had gone to sail with his father, at first only observing, but pitching in as he grew older. Particularly after Ava passed away when Eddie was ten. Nothing tragic about it- a freak accident, nothing more. Consequently, the Atlas was where Eddie grew up in large part. The ship itself was a brother to him, the crew like family unto itself.

When his father died, Eddie inherited the Atlas, and he holed himself up in his quarters one night with a bottle of bourbon. He raised his glass and said, “To Dad,” and downed his drink.

The next day, he welcomed the rest of his crew back on board, and knew without knowing that to live aboard the Atlas was to call yourself a part of the family. So Eddie decided to get to know them.

***

Marguerite Achebe was 33 years of age, seven feet of height, and two-hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. When Marguerite was asked why she wanted the job, she replied gruffly that it was a job and that therefore she wanted it.

One day, a group of patrol officers from Baldur intercepted them and rooted through their ship, looking for contraband. The entire affair threatened to put them days behind schedule depending on whether or not the officers decided to impound the Atlas. When this was suggested as something that might happen, Marguerite stepped forward and explained in no uncertain terms that the fine print of subsection five of article eighteen of the second revision of the Articles of Inter-Human Space Trade forbid such an action from occurring if the crew of the barge in question was carrying the property of any recognized government. When asked what government property they were carrying, Marguerite guided them over to a metal shipping container which, when opened, revealed five hundred copies of the Articles of Inter-Human Space Trade. This proved sufficient for the investigators, who then left.

When Eddie asked later how she’d known that, she responded that everyone knew that. Why didn’t he know that?

Eddie didn’t have a response to that one.

***

Franklin Guttierez was a mass of scars and body hair- which, by his own admission, he let grow unfettered to help cover up the scars. He never said what the scars were from, only that they covered pretty much everywhere save his face and ass. Eddie recognized eventually that it was something Guttierez would talk about if he ever decided anyone was worthy of his trust. Eddie also came to recognize Guttierez had the greatest head of hair he’d ever laid eyes on.

The man’s thick head of black curls was shaped perfectly- it was majestic, an obsidian lion’s mane. So Eddie, never the most appearance-conscious person previously, asked Guttierez to cut his hair for him, saying he’d even add a bit to his salary if he did so. Guttierez agreed, and it was the best haircut Eddie had ever had. Consequently, Guttierez agreed to take on a position as the ship’s official barber in addition to his duties as a crewman. It supplemented his income nicely, and pretty much everyone loved the work he did. The lone holdout was Tamara Johannson, whose hair was something of a human travesty. Finally, she caved, thanks to the power of peer pressure. She came out the other end of it with a sleek charcoal bob with bangs, and everyone, herself included, agreed it looked fabulous.

The culmination occurred when they picked up a distress call from a small political transport vessel. On it was a politician by the name of Marianne Carthage, of the Carthage Clan in the Osiris system. She and her entire crew were alive and well, but their ship had stopped working en route to an important conference in Neo Tokyo. The good ambassador’s hair was a mess, and she reluctantly allowed Guttierez to see to it.

When asked by a colleague at the conference who cut her hair, she replied proudly, “Franklin Guttierez.”

***

Benni Harmon was young, perhaps too young to be in their line of work. They’d shown up one day with a reference from another freighter captain, Hector San, and with a recommendation that good (and verifiable, as Eddie was quick to check), Eddie had no choice but to bring them on.

The Atlas was on a back-and-forth job that would last two years: they were to haul ice back and forth from a mostly-frozen moon in the Greco system to a mostly parched planet in Quetzalcoatl territory. They got the ice, delivered it, and went back for more ice, rinse repeat for two years and/or the designated total they were intended to reach (whichever came last). On their way was Havana Station, and on Havana station the best restaurant in the Greco system- Lance’s Meats. And at Lance’s Meats was the prettiest waitress Benni Harmon had ever laid eyes on. Angie Keen. They asked every time Havana station came onto the view if the ship was stopping, and Eddie always said yes. They asked every time how long they had, and Eddie always said enough time for a meal.

They asked if there were any job openings on the Atlas, and one day Eddie replied that yes, there were. Eddie asked if Benni had someone in mind, and Benni replied that their fiance was looking for a change in career.

She started a few days later. Angie Keen took well to the life.

***

The pilot of the Atlas was Markus Baxter, and had always been Markus Baxter. Bax had been old when Eddie’s dad had owned the ship. Bax had given Eddie his first beer when he was fourteen, taught Eddie how to fire a gun, how to clean a gun, how to replace a gun while saving money. He’d taught Eddie to fly the Atlas, something Eddie loved doing but knew Bax loved even more.

A run-in with a Gray frigate was the last thing they needed. And yet there it was, happening. A Gray vessel hailed them, boarded them, and informed them that they had violated a territorial treaty and were now in Gray Space without the proper permits.

Marguerite attempted to argue, throwing every bit of legal jargon possible at them, but to no avail. They were in Gray territory thanks to a recent border treaty. That meant they were obligated to follow Gray laws, and if they broke any, they would face Gray repercussions. The Gray navy had a specific policy regarding what to do in situations such as these: kill the pilot of the offending ship.

Eddie and the rest of the crew hadn’t been allowed to keep Bax’s body. After his execution via firing squad, it was property of the Gray government.

Nobody saw Eddie for a few days after that. He refused to leave the cockpit, refused to speak, refused to eat or sleep or bathe, refused to do anything other than fly the Atlas.

Finally, Angie found him passed out in the hallway outside the cockpit. Marguerite had forced him out, and then knocked him unconscious so he could finally get some sleep.

A year passed before a new full-time pilot was hired. It wasn’t merely that they had to be good. It was that everyone had to give the okay to them joining the crew. It was never said aloud simply because it didn’t have to be: if anybody objected to the idea of this person replacing Bax, then they didn’t get the job, plain and simple.

Finally, they settled on a middle-aged woman named Annette Foster. She was soft-spoken, soft-looking, and sharp-eyed. It probably helped that everyone was reluctant at best to talk to her for a good long while.

And then one day, Annette walked up to Guttierez in the mess hall and asked if he thought she could use a haircut. Annette’s white tresses were nearly at hip-length and chronically pulled back into a tight bun, so Guttierez replied in the affirmative. They walked away together, and when everyone saw Annette at dinner that night she was sporting a straightened collar-length cut. Everyone approved, and she ate with Guttierez and rest of them.

***

Nobody wanted to clean the toilets on the ship. Nobody wanted that as part of their job. So the most viable solution was to make it an entire job with a strong prospect of upward advancement. It’d been Eddie McCormick Sr.’s idea: if someone with absolutely zero qualifications wanted a job on the Atlas, they were eligible, provided they were willing to start off cleaning toilets (among other things) and learn other skills in their spare time.

Dean Lawton was such a man. At the tender age of sixteen he found himself aboard the Atlas, scrubbing toilets while learning navigation from Belko. Unfortunately, he hated the work so much that he quit after one week. Eddie dropped him off at a spaceport and none of the crew ever saw him again.

Riley Partridge was another such individual hired to maintain basic hygiene aboard the Atlas. She learned the skills of engineering as she went, and she proved far too talented to be scrubbing toilets. Thus, she was promoted to assistant engineer, and they needed a new toilet-scrubber.

Finally, they found him: Darius Otokoi, a man with a dearth of ambition. He was not promoted for some time, and the toilets were never cleaner. Everyone was happier with the arrangement.

***

Belko knew how to navigate. Belko could navigate better than any of them. 139 years of age, a veteran of the Gray-Kayzhour War (Act I, as he un-affectionately dubbed it), Belko’s first name was unknown, and everyone was okay with that. It didn’t matter what anyone else called him. He was Belko. Simple as that.

A long-haul job had brought them into Kayzhourian Space during the revival of the war (Act III, according to Belko- the Cold War being Act II). They found themselves lost. And when that happened, Belko looked out at the stars and planets around them and figured out where they’d wandered off to, and he brought them home. Because that was what Belko did.

Belko, unfortunately, was getting older. His vision was fading. It came to a head when he gave Eddie a course for them to fly, and after looking it over and discussing it with their pilot, Eddie realized that the course fly them directly into a star.

Eddie pulled Belko aside in the mess hall, poured him a stiff drink.

“My time’s come, hasn’t it?” Belko asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Eddie said.

Once the job was done, the next priority was Belko’s retirement party. Guttierez gave him a free shave, Marguerite some audiobooks to keep him busy, and Otokoi a dozen coupons for free cleaning services.

Eddie didn’t get him anything, because he concluded there was nothing he could get him that would repay the man for all that he’d done over the years. As the night closed, Eddie said as much to Belko, and said that he could ask of his captain one final request. Belko obliged, and said he knew exactly what he wanted: not to have to leave.

And so he stayed. He rarely left his quarters, particularly in his final days, but for another year and a half he stayed. It was a sad day when nature had its victory and took him from the crew.

***

Eddie had lived a long life. He’d lived on ships. He’d lived among the stars. He’d lived among some of the best sailors he’d ever known.

But everything ends. He knew that. His only hope was that he would end before the Atlas did, he was determined that his older brother, a mere one day his senior, would outlive him.

Eddie got his wish.

Eddie was a hundred and fifty on his last run. Most of the crew had left: Marguerite went to become a lawyer, Guttierez opened a barbershop, Riley joined the Amaterasu navy as an engineering officer, and Otokoi got exploded (he died as he lived- stupidly).

The new crew was just fine, but he knew they wouldn’t be taking orders from him much longer. But he didn’t need to worry: he already had a replacement in mind.

Annette had passed on not long after Belko, but her daughter proved an excellent replacement. Smart and quiet, her head shaved in contrast to her mother, she’d come on and excelled. She was his first officer, and Eddie trusted her. Her name was Edith- but everyone called her Eddie. Fortunately, most people called the captain ‘Old Man’ by that point, so there wasn’t much confusion.

The old man went to bed one night, as they were halfway to Alaunus. The old man didn’t wake up the next morning, and Eddie came into his room and checked his pulse and found he’d left. Without any warning. Without bothering to say good-bye.

They finished the job, because they knew the old man would’ve wanted that. And when it was over they all wept.

Eddie began her eulogy with these words: “I called Edward McCormick Jr. my uncle. And he considered this ship and everyone on it his family, so you all know what I’m talking about. I suppose we all call this ship family. I’ve found myself calling it ‘uncle’ more than once. And the old man smiled whenever he heard me say it.”

***

The Atlas lived on past its brother, past its niece, past all its family. And one day, a crew that had never known any captain called Eddie, who’d remodeled the ship past recognition, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. They brought the Atlas to a scrapyard, sold it for what they thought was more money than the thing was worth.

The scrapyard manager, Edwin Chang, knew better. He’d just gotten the best deal of his life. He tore the Atlas apart, took everything that still worked, and brought the parts to a skeleton of a ship. He’d always wanted to see the stars. He suspected that the Atlas II would take him there, just as he knew it had taken others.