Honestly? The price of the Pfahrn version of wheat means absolutely jackshitto me.
Likewise, I couldn’t give a crap about patents, or anything like that. I don’t even give a crap about mining, beyond calculating the mass of the cargo load we’re hauling so my projections are accurate when we jump.
I shut down my reader when the captain and XO return and relieve me of my watch before I finish the informational brochure. I gratefully return to my cabin to chill before lunch. There’s another nap and probably more masturbation in my immediate future following our afternoon meal.
I mean, a guy’s gotta have priorities, doesn’t he?
* * * *
The mostly Shalfin communications retrofit crew doesn’t appear until late that evening, and it takes us over an hour to go through everything. At this point it’s not worth me leaving the ship tonight. I decide I’ll hang around until tomorrow morning.
After evening mess, I’m thinking about settling in my bunk to watch a vid when the captain pages me to the bridge.
Dammit.
I grab my tablet and personal com unit and head there, my stylus working through my fingers the entire way. I don’t like disruptions to my plans.
When I arrive, I find Captain Xhogrhan talking with another Shalfin I’ve never met before.
“Ah, Davies,” the captain starts. “Can you take a watch, please? I have business to attend to on the station.”
I shrug. “Sure. How long?” I notice the other Shalfin stays quiet, and there’s more than a tinge of blue high in his cheeks.
“Just an hour, until Gentry comes on watch.”
“Okay.”
“Excellent.”
He and the other Shalfin leave. I don’t take offense at the captain not introducing me, because if I needed to know who the dude was, that would’ve happened.
I’ve learned over the years that, sometimes, I should simply keep my mouth shut and life runs far more smoothly for me that way. My job is getting the ship safely from pointAto pointB.
Being nosy isn’t part of that plan. It’s in my contract that I will not work for anyone engaged in illegal activities, and if any occur, I’m not liable for them. That I canliterallyshut the ship down, call for an emergency Maxim Colonies or military transport, and walk if I know there’s anything illegal going on. So I’m good there. That’s all in a standard Maxim Colonies nav contract. It helps protect us, so we can’t be forced to be complicit in any illegal activities.
No captain wants their ship stranded out in the hinterlands, weeks or even months from the next supply port. Hell, their crew would mutiny if they did that.
Not that I think there’s anything illegal going on. I haven’t seen any signs of that. Maxim Colonies tends to weed out troublemakers from the ranks of their private contractors and freelancers pretty quickly. The company doesn’t want illegal activities drawing the wrong kind of attention to them, anyway.
Who can blame them?
I pull up the station brochure again and peruse it, flipping through pages with my stylus. What I’m hoping to find is at least one or two brothels, real, holo, or both. I’m not really a big fan of brothels, but if it means I can get laid and I strike out elsewhere, I’ll try them. Most space stations that have a high percentage of humans passing through have at least one holo brothel.
I luck out—this one has six, both holo and real ones. They’re run by Maxim Colonies, too, meaning they’ll adhere to basic minimum health standards.
Excellent. I’ll keep that in mind in case I find myself needing a back-up plan.
Tapping through the nightlife and dining section reveals several bars and nightclubs on the space station. I might have some luck there. I do want to hit any museums or art galleries they have. I tend to run into a better class of guy in those.
On second thought, maybe I’ll shoot for a bar first. I never drink when I’m on duty—and I’malwayson duty during a jump. I don’t even bother buying alcohol to take aboard with me. Some navs don’t mind drinking a little between jumps, but I take my responsibilities seriously. I need to be at the top of my game and not half drunk off my ass in case an unexpected situation comes up.
I finally remember to log into my official Maxim Colonies communications account and download any new messages, information, or commission offers I might have received since my last download. There’s not many, and all of them relate to official business.
Not like I’m expecting personal correspondence, because I’m alone in the universe. I know I have some scattered cousins on both Mom’s and Dad’s sides of the family, but I’d be hard-pressed to name them, much less tell you where they’re located now. When my parents died, one of my mom’s coworkers and her husband took me in until I finished primary and then headed off to secondary school.
It’s times like this that make me both wistful and grateful that I’m an only child. No siblings to try to keep track of, no guilt over not connecting with them more often.
I’m free to wander and do as I please without having to plan my life around anyone else.
