Welcome To Reliance

Posted on Thu Aug 20th, 2026 @ 5:05am by Adrian Davor

1,685 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Between The Orders
Location: Reliance Interstellar Reconstruction and Recovery Annex | Red Thread Station
Timeline: 2385

Reliance Interstellar had not repaired everything.

The warped section of bulkhead outside the annex had been replaced, as had the lighting strips Taryn’s departure had knocked out along the adjoining access corridor. Fresh panels covered most of the heat damage around the cargo junction, and the station’s maintenance crews had restored the traffic-control relays days before Adrian Davor arrived. One narrow strip of scorched metal remained beside the entrance, dark against the new plating.

A contractor stood beneath it with a replacement panel balanced against his hip.

Davor stopped several metres away. At six foot three, he was difficult to miss even before the contractor noticed the people following him. His charcoal jacket was tailored closely enough to flatter his broad frame without restricting it, and silver had begun to claim more of the hair at his temples since his last visit to Red Thread. The beard remained neat. The smile came easily.

“Leave that bit.”

The contractor looked from him to the damaged bulkhead. “Sir?”

“The burn.” Davor approached and ran two fingers along the edge of the blackened metal. A faint trace of soot marked his skin. “Clean it. Seal it. Put a light over it if you feel artistic, but don’t replace it.”

“It doesn’t match the new frontage.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Davor rubbed the soot between his fingers, examining it before wiping his hand on the cloth offered by one of his staff. “That’s why people will look at it.”

The contractor gave a cautious nod.

“How’s the arm, Marek?”

That stopped him.

Marek glanced down at the limb he had kept close to his side. “Better. Medical cleared me yesterday.”

“And your daughter?”

“She’s back at school.”

“Good.” Davor took the PADD from the woman beside him, authorised the displayed account and passed it across. “That covers the shifts you missed. There’s something extra for frightening the child.”

Marek stared at the figure. “Reliance already paid the medical costs.”

“That was business. This is an apology.”

“You didn’t cause the decompression alert.”

“No, but one of my ships was involved, and my name is now on the door.” Davor’s smile broadened. “That means I get the invoice.”

The public entrance opened onto the respectable face of Reliance Interstellar. Cargo brokers and recovery coordinators occupied the lower level, with reconstruction specialists working from a bank of glass-fronted offices overlooking the station’s commercial thoroughfare. A relief desk had been positioned near reception to process claims from independent traders affected by the disruption. Beyond it, a large display offered repair contracts, freight insurance and emergency passage to settlements still struggling with the aftermath of the Dominion War.

Some of it would lose money.

Davor had approved it anyway.

The station liaison waiting inside rose as he entered. She carried a PADD beneath one arm and wore the guarded expression of someone determined not to be impressed by expensive flooring, courteous staff or the smell of real coffee.

“Mr Davor.”

“Adrian, please.” He extended his hand. “Mr Davor sounds like my father, and he’d hate this place.”

Her grip remained professional. “I understand Reliance has assumed the remaining commercial repair costs from the incident.”

“The reasonable ones.”

“Who decides what’s reasonable?”

“I do. It’s one of the great pleasures of paying.”

She almost smiled. Almost.

Davor released her hand and continued into the annex, allowing her to walk beside him. Nothing in his manner suggested that his previous departure from Red Thread had taken place aboard a disabled vessel. Merrow’s Debt had since been recovered, repaired and moved from the station’s visible docking approaches. The damage report described a coolant reaction inside an ionised waste-heat plume, followed by a cascade of propulsion and sensor failures. Reliance’s legal submission called it the reckless sabotage of a civilian response vessel.

Most of that was true.

The liaison glanced towards the scorched strip outside. “There are still questions about what happened.”

“There are always questions. Answers make people miserable, so they go looking for better ones.”

“You were pursuing Taryn Rook.”

Davor slowed near the reconstruction desk. His amusement remained, though something colder settled behind it.

“Miss Rook violated a berth restriction, ignored traffic control and discharged reserve coolant into an active thermal current. She endangered every vessel using that approach. Merrow’s Debt attempted to stop her.”

“With you aboard.”

“I’ve never been very good at delegating.”

“That wasn’t quite an answer.”

“It was the part you can verify.” He turned towards her, close enough that she had to raise her chin slightly. His voice remained conversational. “Taryn got frightened. Then she made a stupid decision and kept making them until she was in too deep to admit the first one. People do that. Especially young people who’ve spent too long believing that running is the same thing as winning.”

“You appear remarkably forgiving.”

“Do I?”

The question came gently.

A cargo loader passed behind them, its warning lights throwing brief amber bands across the floor. Davor waited for the machinery to move on before continuing.

“Taryn damaged my ship. She injured people who work for me and left Red Thread’s crews with a mess they didn’t deserve. I don’t need to invent anything worse. The station logs speak for themselves.”

He resumed walking.

“Reliance will fund the remaining repairs, retain local contractors and place two recovery vessels on permanent standby. We’re also establishing a hardship fund for independent crews who can’t afford to lose a month’s work because somebody panicked near their docking bay.” He looked back at her. “If that sounds sinister, you should see our catering proposal.”

This time the liaison did smile.

By the time she left, she carried three authorised contracts, access to Reliance’s public damage reports and an invitation to the annex’s formal opening. Davor walked her personally to the entrance. He shook her hand again, thanked her for coming and remembered the name of the junior administrator waiting outside with her.

The doors closed.

His smile did not disappear. It merely ceased being offered to the room.

Davor crossed the reception area and entered a private lift concealed beyond the executive offices. The public directory listed its destination as secure records and commercial arbitration. The lift descended past that floor.

When the doors opened, the glass and warm lighting of the annex gave way to older station metal. Reliance had retained the original freight compartments beneath its offices, connecting them through a series of restricted corridors and cargo lifts which did not appear on the plans supplied to station administration. The air smelled faintly of machine coolant and overheated circuitry. Crates waited behind shielded partitions with manifests that would survive casual inspection and very little else.

A man stood at the central table, where the station’s cargo movements crawled across a projected display.

“Opening went well,” he said.

“It hasn’t opened yet.”

“People are already talking.”

Davor removed his jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. “People were already talking. Now they’ll have somewhere comfortable to do it.”

He examined the display. Reliance contracts appeared in white. Compact-controlled cargo routes were marked in amber, threaded through legitimate consignments moving towards the station’s docks. Red indicators showed inspections, delayed shipments and individuals whose debts had become inconvenient.

One name was absent.

“Anything from her?”

“No confirmed contact.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

The man hesitated. “There have been rumours. Someone matching her description was seen aboard a courier operating near the station. We’re checking it.”

“Quietly.”

“Yes.”

“If she comes back, nobody approaches her. Nobody follows her without my permission, and nobody decides they can impress me by putting a weapon in her face.”

The man nodded. “Understood.”

Davor studied him for another second.

“Say it properly.”

“Nobody touches Taryn without your permission.”

“There we are.” Warmth returned to Davor’s voice. “Clear instructions. Saves so much unpleasantness.”

He enlarged the station schematic. The Reliance annex occupied only a small portion of Red Thread, but its contracts already reached much farther: cargo recovery, private security, emergency transport, reconstruction loans and bonded storage. Honest work moved through the same offices as everything beneath them. Davor saw no contradiction. A freighter pulled from a failing orbit remained saved regardless of what occupied the concealed compartment in its hold. A family given passage out of a ruined colony did not care which debt had financed their seats.

“Keep the relief payments clean,” he said. “Every credit reaches the people named on the claims.”

“And the warehouses?”

“Keep those clean until the inspection cycle settles. We’ve only just moved in. It would be rude to start disappointing our hosts.”

The man shifted another report onto the display. “There’s also the broker who sold Rook the departure window.”

Davor looked at the name.

“He says he didn’t know what she intended.”

“Of course he does.”

“We can bring him down here.”

“No.” Davor collected his jacket and slipped it back on. “Invite him to the opening.”

The man stared at him.

“Let him eat. Let him drink. I’ve paid a criminal amount for both.” Davor straightened one cuff beneath his sleeve. “Then I’ll ask him myself.”

Above them, the Reliance annex continued preparing for its first evening of business. Repair crews moved equipment through the public corridor. Merchants arrived to examine new contracts, and station residents began collecting payments from the relief desk.

Outside the entrance, Marek had cleaned and sealed the scorched section of bulkhead. A narrow light now illuminated the damage against the surrounding new metal.

Davor stopped to admire it.

Taryn had left Red Thread with a damaged ship, a concussion and enough blame waiting behind her to make returning dangerous. Davor had returned with contracts, compensation and his name on three decks of the station.

He smiled at the first guests approaching the annex and opened the doors for them himself.

“Welcome to Reliance.”

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