Captain of the Gypsy Trader.

Twelve years ago, a purple vested, lavender cravated, Alliance tie tack-wearing, mid-level clerk pronounced my name from his bullet proof pidgin-hole. The tannoy crackled...  

"Captain Stewart A. Macpherson!"

I'd  caught the Stewish part…and the clan MacPherson part… the "A." is silent, as it is never used...  My dumbfoundedness came from the honorific of being referred to as a Captain.  Seems so strange how life will drag you where it wants to… sometimes best go somewhat willingly.
Back then, when I passed the licensing exams and was handed that mandarin-red ribbon sealed Masters document, I was as surprised as anyone. That day I went from being a citizen In the Verse and became a citizen Of the Verse. Technically I had been a Captain for years… but in the harbour towns and cities of New Melbourne the word Captain has a stuffy self-important connotation…  Fish boat Skippers don't go by "Captain"…truth is if some dockside 鳗粪 calls you "Captain" tis grounds for a proper donnybrook…  I'm tellin' ya because I've never gotten used to being so called, even in the Black. Fortunately Gypsy Trader has a crew of one and I rarely insult myself so… Also, tis easier navigating the Black than the seas of New Melbourne….proper Skippers work.  Not many know that. Not many give a good gorram either.
Anyway, now you know… just call me Skipper, or Skip, only one person gets to call me Skippy…and I prefers to just be… Stew.

 * * *

Back on New Melb, Pap runs a Fishboat to this day, as does my brother… they probably will to the bitter end of the rope. And before I won at a long (lucky?) night of cards... sailing for fish woulda been my lot as well… and some days I wish I were back on the deck of a trawler… but thats a rare day.
As regards Mam and Pap; Mam always was a beauty, the middle daughter of a sturgeon farm owner (old Granfa-Dimitri); She tried her best to spoil her boys while educatin' us in classics and histories. How many kids grow up with a taste for caviar before they are crawling? Pap didna go with all of Mam's family traditions... spoilin' his boys was not a thing he'd put up with past a certain age…so the caviar was discontinued before long.
Pap married well and socially upward. Mam did well by marrying a dour Scot who truly loved her. They were happy. We were happy for years… until Mam died of fever in the last year of the War. I was 17.
We knew the War was winding down. The Alliance had held New Melbourne and Harvest throughout. The real war never came to us but once, and I wont speak of that here... You can talk of Purple-belly and Brown coat… strategy and tactics… even how the Alliance always had better equipment than the Resistance; but I swear to you that if the Browncoats had been better able to feed themselves and deprive the Core-worlds of Harvest and New Melbourne's bounty, the War would have ended sooner and very differently. Pap simpathized with the Browncoats; Andrew and I had learned enough from Mam about the histories of empires, kings and queens, czars and czarinas to agree with Pap…  I just remember the faces of the men on the Browncoat Space Frieghters when we'd secretly rendevous at sea, to transfer cases of smoked fish and bales of dried kelp. It was the best we could do… Pap never made a kopec (according to Mam a kopec was a tiny coin on old Earth)...Pap did what he felt was right… we all did, but when Mam died, Pap nearly followed her with his heartbreak. I'm glad the war ended in any way it could… Pap was taking more risks every time he left the dock.

* * *

I was never the best Fishboat skipper in the family... never had that fishy sixth sense of where the schools would show up next like Pap and Brother Andrew. This made me restless in my core I'm guessin' and I headed down a bad path… well it looked bad to Pap. I told him over and over that I never drank when I played cards. That is why I have Gypsy Trader.
Gypsy was a project vessel… originally a Toad class light bulk. Toads are terrestrial but semi amphibious ya know. TOAD class vessels are fully submersible. Good for dodging storms on water worlds (and as smuggling vessels some say). Fact is… ton for ton, Gypsy Trader can make more coin on a run than any Mid-bulk in the sky… you just need to make more runs and not expect too much of her; She is what she is, no more no less. Gypsy is easy on fuel and upkeep, easy to handle, and I dont require much room for myself. Best of all no one but me thinks much of her, so we slip in and out of worlds with less bother.
I previously mentioned Grandfa Dimitri...he was a hard one. But in his way he cared about the Macpherson boys… Grandfa had heard about my dealings and came near to crackin' my skull for it. He fronted funds to upgrade the TOAD and transform it into my Gypsy. After I'd earned the Masters license from the All Mighty Alliance… Grandfa was astonished I was able to pay him back after three runs. He's gone now, but I carry on a tradition with cousin Misha on Mam's side of the clan… a family tradition involving excess amounts of high grade caviar, once or twice a year.  Core worlds cannot seem to get enough fish eggs...caviar just brings back memories for me, and with nostalgia comes melancholy. I'm better off in the Black munching protein packs.