History: When the Scream happened, not all humans had the good fortune to be safely on a planet somewhere or aboard a space station hovering in some set orbit; no, there were numerous ships traveling the void when crewmen and officers alike suddenly went insane and started attacking anything and anyone they could. Some of these vessels were destroyed outright, others badly damaged, and even those that could fly lacked the minimum crew needed to operate them.

This led to the forced cooperation of all sorts of peoples once divided; religion, color, class, cyberware, half alien, religious views, all of those differences no longer mattered in the face of the shared view of survival. Parts of the most damaged ships were used to repair those the most intact, and the crews melded into one as a result. This happened in various locations and over a long period of time, Leading to collections of these scrap ships flying together.

These 'Salvage Fleets' as they came to be known, were frowned upon in general because it was suspected that some of the salvage they used was taken more than found, and that they were grifters and conmen who would do what best profited them.

Cynthia was born into one such salvage fleet of about twenty-five ships, for the most part old derelicts hardly worth patching up anymore but it was all the space gypsies could afford. They'd go from planet to planet, station to station, and ply whatever talents they could in order to earn a handful of credits for parts, food, and other basic supplies before heading off again.

The Reynolds were part of a crew, and when the ships were moving through space they did their assigned work diligently and well. However, when they came into a port, their rolls changed; Cynthia's father was a gambler, a man of chance, who would go into a bar and start up a 'friendly' game of cards or the like.

Her mother was a prostitute, who worked her side profession with her husband's full knowledge and agreement. They figured it worked out well, as in some cases the men he lost to would come and pay for her time with the very same credits.

Not only was she a lady of the evening, but Mrs. Reynolds would dress up in fine attire and scent herself with oils and such. She used trappings to make the room she used look fancy, though she would allow the men she took in with her to do very questionable acts, up to and even urinating and deficating on her while others watched.

Cynthia found out and was upset by this, crying one day when her mother asked her what was wrong. The girl replied she couldn't understand why her mother went through with it, and let the strangers treat her this way. Her mom laughed, and gave her daughter a hug. She said selling sex was likely the oldest profession as ever was, and all you needed to do it was a hole to stick something in. So in short, any man or woman could sell themselves for the release of others. A woman's sexual area was designed to have a penis in it, so why not make some money off of what was meant to happen anyway?

However, her mother said, the fact pretty much anyone could do it created something of a problem; there was an old term the older woman heard years ago called supply and demand, which put simply the more of something there is the less demand there is for it. That makes it harder to sell, and the price needs to be dropped in order to get someone to purchase it.

She explained to her daughter that, as a prostitue, she made herself out to be better than some of the other women to limit her competition and be able to bring in more credits for the family. As for the urination and deficating, piss was mostly water and shit washed off. People at the places they traveled to already thought the salvage fleets were trash and worthless, and if they wanted to pay her to prove them right then she had no problems with that. After all, after they left she would sit down to a meal of real meat with her husband and daughter because they could afford it.

Cynthia realized how smart her mother really was, and grew to actually laugh silently to herself when men would give her mother scornful stares in public, knowing well that those same men might end up grunting on top of her and paying her for the chance. She wanted to help earn credits as well, but of course she was far too young for any sexual activities so instead she helped her father.

She would go into the bar where he was playing games of chance, and happen to walk up to him. She would pretend not to know him, then win a few times; this got marks involved, and her dad would work his magic to make the credits go into his pocket. Other times she would sip a drink and amble around the room appearing to be bored, but actually watching everyone's cards and singling her old man with gestures they had worked out beforehand.

Her father would play cards, but also darts, shell games, anything he could think of actually. He also memorized some of various religions they ran across, so he could drop quotes here and there and gain donations as a man of the cloth.

Cynthia would help him out here too, by wandering about and trying to find groups interested in what he had to offer. She also advertised the services of her mother, without going into too much detail or revealing they were related She would just yammer on about some 'dirty' salvage woman she'd heard about who was depraved enough to do anything for credits. She got to get a fell for where to go, the kinds of places to hang out in, and the sorts of folks who would be most interested in not only what she had to say but how she said it as well.

Her parents had no problems with her assisting them in their professions, but they knew as well that the Universe could be a dangerous place. So as a gift for a birthday, they gave her a gun; it was well worn and used, but it still fired and shot straight. Her father made sure to give her lessons when time and the laws of whatever land they were in allowed it. Eventually she got good enough to go out by herself with the sidearm, and a few times even brought game back.

A Salvage Fleet uses what they've got when they've got it, and this meant crew as well as parts; Cynthia was assigned to Engineering when she was all of ten years old, basically because her small hands fit so well into tight places for repairs and replacement jobs. She continued to work mainly in that department as she got older, morphing from a toady type into a passible tech.

When she was fourteen, her family was on a certain planet when her father contracted a rare virus. He was banned from returning to the fleet for fear it might spread, and what they had for doctors would pass at best as a field medic on a common world. He was instead taken to a hospital and diagnosed, with the physician reporting on a bad condition and an expensive cure. The Reynolds didn't have spare credits at all, and not near enough to cover the expense quoted.

Mrs. Reynolds was surprised greatly when the doctor suddenly scheduled the procedure, and performed on her husband. He made it through, and managed a full recovery. She was beyond overjoyed, and happily prepared to return to the salvage fleet...

...It was then she learned a terrible and painful truth; in keeping her husband, she had lost her daughter. Cynthia had approached the doctor, and offered to sell herself into indentured servitude if he would save her father. He had agreed, and all of the forms were correct and legally binding. There was nothing her family could do but part from her, with wet eyes and heavy hearts.

The young woman thought she would be used a a sexual plaything or some such, but she received a surprise; the aging doctor had always wanted a daughter, and when she made the offer to him he decided he could ask for no one with more love and loyalty than her.

Her life changed drastically then, no more creaking metal, recycled air and nutrient paste. Tutors were hired to give her a proper education, gone were the smoke filled back room poker games, replaced now with data pads and quizzes. At the same time, her foster father began teaching what he knew about the art of medicine.

At the same time, they still found time to sit and chat, go for long walks in the sunlight, listen to the birds sing outside, and enjoy the company of one another as though they really were blood kin.

Her actual parents did come back four years later, and they hardly recognized her with the healthy glow of her skin no longer pale from the confines of a ship and weight on her frame not gained by near-endless meals of nutrient past. She was overjoyed to see them and was allowed to spend all the time they were planet side with them, but eventually they once more had to go with the salvage fleet.

The doctor surprised them and offered to end her contract, but her parents refused; she had a shot at a real future now, not one handed down through the generations like some family curse. Her father and mother never doubted that they were smart, but using all the opportunities they had had in life a gambler and a prostitute was the best they could manage.

Cynthia ached to go with them, but at the same time she knew this was the greatest act of kindness they could do for her at this point in her life. She asked them to come back to watch her graduate and they agreed, then they left her once more.

The years ticked by as they had before, the only thing changing being her subjects of study and workload. Sometimes she would be allowed a night off, and she still knew where to find some action or a party if she wanted it; planet or station, people remained people.

Finally it was graduation day, and her mother returned alone; when asked why, Cynthia found out her father had planned to settle down with her and his wife. To this end, he had worked a gih stakes game bigger than those before, and he got sloppy; usually hew lost a few hands here and there to make it look legit, but it was getting close to time to go back for the ceremony and he tried to rush things. He was accused of cheating, and got shot seven times before he hit the floor.

Her mother had sunken eyes and seemed to shiver in warm weather, Cynthia finally got her to agree to some tests; she had contracted a sexually transmitted disease usually found in a different species to which it was a bit annoying but nothing else. In humans however, it was fatal. The doctor moved her into her house where Cynthia tended to her, she lasted six months before passing. Her daughter arranged to have her buried on the planet, so her mom could at last stop wandering and have a home.

Cynthia was different however, for her soul was in the stars. In the last eight years of her life the chain of the salvage fleet had been removed, yet another had been added that was the planet on which she now lived. She took a job at the hospital where she had first met her foster father and worked without complaint, and he had at first hoped she'd settle down and get the wanderlust out of her system. He eventually faced the hard truth that he was lying to himself, and she was staying just to satisfy him.

To this end he arranged passage on a ship for her, gifted her a bnio scanner and med kit, and gave her a great hug with stern instructions to send him a message every so often.

Cynthia was sad and overjoyed at the same time, hugged the older man, and took back to the unknown. Her first thought was to offer her skills as a doctor to a ship until it got to a port, then switch and wander about. However she came to realize that sometimes ships had doctors for the entire trip, or couldn't afford to pay the price they deserved for services rendered. It could be a long stretch between jobs, which meant little in the ways of credits.

However, though dulled a bit perhaps, her old ways had not abandoned her fully. She offered herself as a tech when a doctor wasn't needed and doubled her chances of getting aboard a ship, while recruiting what she'd learned from her parents as well; she could more often than not find some action somewhere, and she could make connections for special 'party' supplies. She also had no problems parting her legs for the right price, and given the kinds of drugs she could safely administer due to actually being a doctor that cost was pretty high at times. While her johns slept, it was a simple matter most times to hack their dataslabs or pick their pockets.

Eventually Cynthia was in one bar where a young man was bragging about getting aboard a ship bound for some planet recently found by only a few navigators; it was supposed to have several nanofabbers on it, the machines that had created Pretech. There was also talk of some disease or something, but it was fine as long as you didn't stay for years or something. Tech Level five items were a rare treasure to find, and a planet with the capability to still make them could be as good as printing your own credit chits. Also if there were some disease, well they need doctors for that, don't they?

Cynthia bought him several drinks, then took him back o her rented room with several more hard bottles. She soaked him and rode him long and hard, then left him sawing logs while she helped herself to his boarding pass. She hacked it easily, changed his details to match hers, then packed up her belongings and threw his into the disposal unit where they were incinerated. She checked his pulse to make sure he was OK, then scrambled the door code just to be sure and disabled the room's built-in comms. Then she checked in at the hanger, handed the credentials to the man at the boarding ramp, then entered when he gave a nod.

At the rank of a low level tech, Cynthia got free passage to the world of Polychrome.