Maur Sarkov

October 11, 2457 - The Asama Maru was docked at the space port of an asteroid mining colony between Mars and Jupiter. A rather mundane shipment of ore, only partially refined due to the limitations inherent in such a place. However, the materials being dragged out of the orbiting hunks of rock and metal were being used to build fantastical cities elsewhere, places where such materials were needed and not exactly available locally, and so Captain Dmitri Sarkov watched as crates were loaded onto the vessel.

As the captain of a space-going ship, he was given a fair bit of leeway by THI where passengers were concerned. Naturally, they couldn't be politically disadvantageous to the corporation, but if he wanted to make a few extra credits hauling desperate people, no one would say anything. It was strictly a look the other way sort of affair, though passengers would need to buy insurance "just in case". The youngish woman standing at the docks waiting to board, clearly pregnant, had filled out the requisite paperwork and even managed to somehow secure just enough insurance to pass muster. She looked like any number of workers in these colonies - tired and broken down at a young age. This one, however, had dreamed enough of the dream to make it happen, and the captain okayed her passage to Mars. He didn't have the heart to tell her the truth...

The ship, laden with ore and a few miners hoping for a better life somewhere else, set off on a tour of several more such colonies, and then to Mars. A trip that would take a few months - a period of time that bothered the Captain Sarkov as the pregnant woman had stepped on board. She personally assured the ship's medical AI that she wasn't due until mid-January, long after they would put into the Mars station, and the exam seemed to corroborate her belief, so Sarkov let it ride.

It almost went without saying that both the woman, and the AI, were wrong. On December 16, 2457, shortly before midnight, the woman reported to the medical bay complaining of abdominal pains. It didn't take long for the medical AI to figure out that it hadn't been the lousy shipboard dinner, and it directed the woman to a bed. Shortly after midnight, an infant girl entered the world in a dismal corner of the med bay aboard the Asama Maru, which was almost perfectly between the asteroid belt and Mars. It would be another 6 weeks before the ship would dock at the Mars station, and the crew now had a new passenger.

Sarkov came to the med bay himself when the AI informed him of the development, and watched as the bot manipulated the just born infant as though it were a clump of diseased tissue just extracted in a surgery. The damn thing had always bothered him with its inhuman looking skin, and even creepier mannerisms, but this was an affront. Little did he know that would be the least of its distressing behaviors. The AI was keenly aware of the cheap medical plan the woman had bought, and when her coverage was exceeded, it stopped - almost in mid stroke. Sarkov watched as the life drained from the woman's body while the med bay AI wandered off to contact the cleaning crew. It hadn't even bothered to see if the infant had survived - the tiny girl was, effectively, a stow-away as far as the computer was concerned.

Not nearly so heartless, the captain cleaned the baby up himself and wrapped her in gauze and blankets - which his medical plan would later be charged for - and carried her to his stateroom. She would stay there until the ship arrived at Mars in late January, at which point Dmitri knew he had to turn her over to the authorities. She couldn't very well stay onboard his ship, which was ill-prepared for her as it was. His cook had researched for quite some time simply to find a suitable formula for her, and then there was the problem of feeding an infant using only what was available, or could be fabricated, in the maintenance stores.

He was certain he was doing the right thing as he carried her from the ship onto the Mars station, and still certain as he wandered the station looking for the proper authorities. He grew increasingly less certain as he walked into the office responsible for such things, and once he had talked to the representative who would take his little charge, he was flat out apprehensive. By the time the obese pig had finished giving his spiel, clearly intending to dissuade him from unloading his burden on Mars, he had already changed his mind. Not four hours after he had walked onto the station he walked back off - with the little girl, still wrapped in gauze and a metalized thermal blanket, in his arms.

"I have to give you a name, little one - but what should I name you?" Dmitri mused out loud as he pulled out one of the diapers his crew had purchased on the Mars station. As a single man with nothing to spend his credits on, he had amassed a small fortune - a fortune he was now applying to purchase things he could have never dreamed he would need. Diapers, formula, tummy medicines for babies, plush toys, and intellectual property files that would let him fabricate almost anything else he would need in the ship's engineering section. It was an astoundingly bad idea, which he well knew. He also knew that THI would flip out if they caught on too soon, so he decided against having a neural net installed at the Mars station. She would remain invisible to the ship's computers, though her bio-load would certainly not go unnoticed.

He had figured out that the baby's mother had lied about nearly everything in her paperwork. The name she had given was false, coming back to a much previously deceased person. He couldn't afford to have her genetically matched, and it wasn't certain that she had even been registered. So, the captain thought for a moment. After musing for a while, he remembered his grandmother, Maureen. She had been a kindly woman, one of the few in his family who didn't consider him a fool for going into the shipping business as a young man. An avid reader, she had sent him book after book for him to read on the long trips between stations. It was a perfect name for the little girl laying on his bed smiling up at him. She had a few tufts of dark brown hair, barely enough for her to grasp with her chubby little fingers, and dark brown eyes that, even at her tender age, darted everywhere with purpose and curiosity. "Maureen it is, then; little one." Sarkov said in his kindliest voice - a voice none of his crew had likely heard - before he picked her up and used one of the newly purchased bottles to feed her the also newly purchased formula.

...

Thirty-four years later, a now adult Maur Sarkov sat in her tiny stateroom aboard the Asama Maru. Unlike the captain's quarters, which were almost large enough for three people to fit in, she had grown up in a space scarcely large enough for a bed and a wash basin. Still, she had never felt the need for anything more. Instead, she held her tablet in her hands, tears streaming down her face, looking at the face of her father. Though she knew by now that Dmitri Sarkov was not her biological father, he had been everything she could have ever wanted in a parent, and she knew her life would never be the same without the gruff old man staring back at her. The shock still hadn't worn off, even though he had been laid to rest months before - not long after the inquiry into his death had been wrapped up.

At her feet lay the entirety of her belongings; a little suitcase with her clothes, a few souvenirs and personal sundries, and a printed copy of her contract completion documents from THI. Life aboard the Asama Maru hadn't been harsh, but neither had it made her wealthy - her only souvenirs were simple, cheap tchotchkes that she had collected at various ports. Mostly, her heritage consisted of pictures, which she guarded jealously on a storage drive, along with her father's collection of books and music. The copy of the digitally signed death certificate was sitting on that drive as well, though she hadn't had the courage to open it yet.

It was hard for her to believe that this would be her last day aboard the ship - a ship that had been her whole life. She had literally been born three decks below and spent nearly every day of her life within the metal confines of this flying beast. THI had, of course, figured out that she was aboard. Her father worked a deal that had allowed her to stay, and she had become an employee when she was old enough to sign the paperwork. Her visor, a constant reminder that she hadn't ever been properly processed and given a neural net, lay at her side.

She could feel it pulsing, reminding her that it was time. With a heavy sigh, Maur picked up the tiny machine and lifted it to her ear. It had been her life-line to the ship's systems for thirty four years, but now it was quiet. THI had already terminated her access to the Asama Maru's networks as the ship pulled into the docks at INSILICO. The message on the display was a reminder she had left for herself, a reminder to walk down the boarding platform one last time - never to return.

With a renewed sense of purpose, and a tiny shred of hope, she took one last look at her father's photo, then stood up, picked up the suitcase, and walked down to the loading area. As she approached the dock, her visor announced a new network and asked if she wanted to connect. INSILICO's city AI was welcoming her in the only way it knew how - by asking for her billing information. She smiled and gave her visor permission to complete the process. She had arrived in her new home.