drinking was going on than card playing, though.
Conversation ceased entirely when the men spotted Jenna and the room filled with roaring silence. She knew most women would turn heel and walk the other direction at this scene, and maybe she should, too. But years of hanging out in garages in high school and more years of crawling through the grease trenches with Henry had banished the prejudice that told a woman unkempt men were untrustworthy. In fact, usually, the very opposite was true. Grease-stained hands and sweat-styled hair told Jenna a man worked hard. The ones who didn't work hard were the ones she needed to worry about.
Jenna swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good evening, gentlemen."
"You'll be hard pressed to find a gentleman in this bunch," a forty-something guy with close-cropped white hair said, laughing.
The other men joined his laughter, and so did Jenna. There was an easiness among them that let her relax.
She walked closer to the group and held out her hands in apology. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend."
A round of laughter sounded again.
"I'm Jack. What can we do you for, sweetheart?" the guy said.
"I'm looking for a ride back to Earth. I had to fix a hydraulic line back at Huygens Station and missed my flight."
" You fixed a hydraulic line?" the man closest to her said, raising a grisly eyebrow. He wore a mechanic's shirt that said "Bo" inside of a little stitched oval.
"Yeah." Jenna placed a hand on her hip and dared the man to doubt her again. After a few beats of silence, she said, "Technically, it's old Henry's job but he says I'll never learn if I don't get my hands dirty."
Bo laughed, nodding. "That sounds like the old coot."
"And I can see you did," Jack said, looking pointedly at her hands and face.
Jenna fought the urge to stuff her greasy hands in her pockets to hide them. As much as the corporate culture of TEP would frown upon them, they were a badge of honor in this hangar.
"So," she said. "Anyone going to Earth who wouldn't mind a passenger? I'm quiet and don't get in the way."
A few seconds of silence passed.
"I can pay," Jenna added.
Jack pointed to the man sitting two seats to his left. "You're heading out soon, aren't you Willy?"
Willy took a huge swig of his beer, spilling more on his shirt and beard than he got in his mouth. He didn't look like he was ready to pilot a spaceship anytime soon.
"Really?" Jenna said, half hoping he would say no.
"Yelp," Willy slurred. "Leaving soon."
"Oh, that's... great," Jenna said. "Do you have room for me?"
"Sure thing, darling."
Normally, Jenna didn't let anyone call her darling or sweetheart – but she knew she was asking these guys for a favor and it wouldn't help to nitpick their choice of words.
"OK, when do we leave?" Jenna looked around the circle of men, hoping someone else would say they would also be heading out soon, but no one spoke up. Maybe Willy wasn't leaving for a few hours and had time to sober up before heading out into the vastness of outerspace.
"Two days," Willy said.
Christmas Day was in three days. "How long is the flight?" Jenna asked. She knew the passenger flights took one day, but freight flights weren't usually as fast.
"Two days." Willy sounded like a parrot who only knew three phrases.
Jenna's shoulders deflated. She guessed getting there the day after Christmas was better than not going at all, but she really didn't want to spend Christmas Day on a spaceship with an old drunkard.
"Is there anybody who's leaving earlier? I really want to be there for Christmas with my family."
Most of the men shook their heads sympathetically. One of the guys, wearing a baseball cap that obscured most of his sun-damaged face, gave Jenna a long look. His gaze flickered to Jack, who apparently was the de facto leader of this little group.
"There's Grayson," the baseball cap guy said.
"Who's Grayson?" Jenna scanned the faces of the group, looking for the owner of the name.
"You don't want to ride with Grayson,"
Conversation ceased entirely when the men spotted Jenna and the room filled with roaring silence. She knew most women would turn heel and walk the other direction at this scene, and maybe she should, too. But years of hanging out in garages in high school and more years of crawling through the grease trenches with Henry had banished the prejudice that told a woman unkempt men were untrustworthy. In fact, usually, the very opposite was true. Grease-stained hands and sweat-styled hair told Jenna a man worked hard. The ones who didn't work hard were the ones she needed to worry about.
Jenna swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good evening, gentlemen."
"You'll be hard pressed to find a gentleman in this bunch," a forty-something guy with close-cropped white hair said, laughing.
The other men joined his laughter, and so did Jenna. There was an easiness among them that let her relax.
She walked closer to the group and held out her hands in apology. "Sorry, didn't mean to offend."
A round of laughter sounded again.
"I'm Jack. What can we do you for, sweetheart?" the guy said.
"I'm looking for a ride back to Earth. I had to fix a hydraulic line back at Huygens Station and missed my flight."
" You fixed a hydraulic line?" the man closest to her said, raising a grisly eyebrow. He wore a mechanic's shirt that said "Bo" inside of a little stitched oval.
"Yeah." Jenna placed a hand on her hip and dared the man to doubt her again. After a few beats of silence, she said, "Technically, it's old Henry's job but he says I'll never learn if I don't get my hands dirty."
Bo laughed, nodding. "That sounds like the old coot."
"And I can see you did," Jack said, looking pointedly at her hands and face.
Jenna fought the urge to stuff her greasy hands in her pockets to hide them. As much as the corporate culture of TEP would frown upon them, they were a badge of honor in this hangar.
"So," she said. "Anyone going to Earth who wouldn't mind a passenger? I'm quiet and don't get in the way."
A few seconds of silence passed.
"I can pay," Jenna added.
Jack pointed to the man sitting two seats to his left. "You're heading out soon, aren't you Willy?"
Willy took a huge swig of his beer, spilling more on his shirt and beard than he got in his mouth. He didn't look like he was ready to pilot a spaceship anytime soon.
"Really?" Jenna said, half hoping he would say no.
"Yelp," Willy slurred. "Leaving soon."
"Oh, that's... great," Jenna said. "Do you have room for me?"
"Sure thing, darling."
Normally, Jenna didn't let anyone call her darling or sweetheart – but she knew she was asking these guys for a favor and it wouldn't help to nitpick their choice of words.
"OK, when do we leave?" Jenna looked around the circle of men, hoping someone else would say they would also be heading out soon, but no one spoke up. Maybe Willy wasn't leaving for a few hours and had time to sober up before heading out into the vastness of outerspace.
"Two days," Willy said.
Christmas Day was in three days. "How long is the flight?" Jenna asked. She knew the passenger flights took one day, but freight flights weren't usually as fast.
"Two days." Willy sounded like a parrot who only knew three phrases.
Jenna's shoulders deflated. She guessed getting there the day after Christmas was better than not going at all, but she really didn't want to spend Christmas Day on a spaceship with an old drunkard.
"Is there anybody who's leaving earlier? I really want to be there for Christmas with my family."
Most of the men shook their heads sympathetically. One of the guys, wearing a baseball cap that obscured most of his sun-damaged face, gave Jenna a long look. His gaze flickered to Jack, who apparently was the de facto leader of this little group.
"There's Grayson," the baseball cap guy said.
"Who's Grayson?" Jenna scanned the faces of the group, looking for the owner of the name.
"You don't want to ride with Grayson,"
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