In The Black - Aboard Adventure Galley

[Sarah McFarlen]

8th June 822 – Stuttgart System, Rheinland

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Sparks - No, Sarah again, now - woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling and the screech of her terminal. She floundered at the bunk straps like it had bitten her, wrapped the pillow around her hand and threw it across the tiny room towards the point of light that had to be the screaming datapad. It floated like some monster of the deep in the microgravity for a moment before it struck the datapad with a hollow thud and drifted towards the ceiling.

Just to spite her, the terminal kept bleating.

“Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Don’t get all worked up.” Sarah groaned, struggled free of a particularly clingy sheet and pushed her way across the room like a swimmer pushing off the blocks. A drugged and exhausted swimmer, perhaps, but a swimmer. Finally, mercifully, the terminal slipped into her fumbling hand and she silenced the machine with a swipe of her hand. She gave the screen a cursory glance, tapped the flashing message indicator and struggled to stifle a laugh. Oh, Leslie was going to love this. Only then, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, did Sarah pause to take in her surroundings.

Save for the pale ring of light seeping around the room’s one door and the glow of her manic terminal, the room was pitch black. There were no windows, no screens on the walls broadcasting happy fantasies of a life in the country, nothing between her and the businesslike plastic grip on the metal floor except for empty air. Sarah floated nonchalantly halfway up the wall, a single bunk behind her and a footlocker strapped into place at its base. Bit by bit, the events of the previous day waddled their way into her brain as she shook the remnants of the night’s sleep from it.

She wasn’t aboard Heisenberg. The fact she could sit up without smashing her head into the top of her waist-high coffin bed was evidence enough of that. Thank heavens for that. She’d developed an impressive bruise over the course of a few weeks on-station, concealed beneath her untidy mop of auburn air. No. She’d signed up. She was an engineer now, on an honest-to-God legal freelance boat, drifting somewhere between Stuttgart and the Omegas. Sarah flashed a grin in the dark. The knowledge was more invigorating than a hundred winter swims.

Sarah pulled her hair away from her eyes and ran a hand along the wall, found a dial, and twisted it until the strip lighting in the ceiling glowed a dull yellow. She could have just adjusted it from her terminal but, after the rude wake-up, she wasn’t sure they were on speaking terms just yet. Instead, she tugged her cargo pants and long-sleeve shirt from the footlocker, pulled her battered green flight suit over both and floated out into the hallway.

Adventure Galley’s bridge was dark this early in the ship’s day, lit only by the dull red glow of the emergency lighting. Sarah drifted along the silent corridors and past empty crew compartments like a bedraggled wraith, glowing datapad throwing crazy shadows on the walls. She found Leslie slumped in the pilot’s chair, straps securing her to the cushions, auburn hair floating about her head like a halo. On the screen in front of her, the serenity’s course pulsed a dull blue. Sarah jetted over to the coffee machine secured in the bridge corner, a small surrender to luxury on the otherwise bare ship, and put together a bulb for the Galley’s sleeping captain, and one for herself.

“Morning skipper.” Sarah settled down in the second chair on the bridge,strapped in and powered up her instruments, and set the coffee drifting towards Leslie. “You’ll never guess who’s sending me comms.”

Leslie started awake, glancing around quickly in surprise and relaxing after seeing it was just Sarah. She patted her hair, a futile exercise considering the gravity situation, and gave her a tired smile.

“Morning, You caught me napping I guess,” She said, grabbing hold of the bulb sent her way. “Thanks.”

She glanced in Sarah’s direction, her curiosity piqued but muffled due to not being fully awake. “What is it?”

Sarah just grinned, undid the harness securing her datapad to her wrist, and offered the pad to Leslie. “Have a look at this. Not bad for a first day, huh?”

Leslie started reading, and as she read her eyebrows climbed higher and higher into her forehead, straining to break free. After a minute, she grinned and tossed the datapad back at Sarah. “Looks like I recruited you just in time. The big boys want to hire you now, huh?” She punched Sarah in the arm,a light blow. “You run in high circles indeed, O mighty Engineer.”

Sarah rubbed at her shoulder, moaned in mock-pain.

“Hey, careful. I’m a valuable commodity now, apparently.” She lazily reached out of her chair to grab the datapad as it floated past. “It’d be nice if they spoke up a while back. I could’ve done with a clean bedroom and a nice uniform instead of drifting.” Her smile said otherwise. “I’m thinking it could be worth looking into. I mean, they bothered to send the comm, they’re obviously interested. Could be some work there.”

Leslie stopped smiling. “Are you sure you don’t want to join their ranks? It’s a pretty hefty offer for anyone, and I won’t hold it against you if you do.” She said.

“Not a chance.” Sarah turned the datapad over in her hand, dimming the screen to a dull lantern glow. “Seriously, I feel like I just got out of that rat race. I’m not about to throw myself back in for any money, no matter how nicely they type the invitation.”

Sarah paused, glanced nervously towards the back of the bridge. “Unless you’re about to run out of coffee. You’re not about to run out of coffee, are you?”

Leslie snorted. “The day I retire, maybe. Some businesses run on parties, I run mine on Coffee. My way is probably more economical.”

“Give me a week. You haven’t seen the rate I go through beans.” Sparks tapped the screen, cycling an engine readout. “I’m thinking that it’s probably worth dropping them something, though. We might be able to snag some contract work. I’m not in any hurry to work for them, but hey, it’s not like Bowex have shallow wallets.”

Leslie gave that suggestion some thought, looking out into space. After a few moments, she looked back and nodded briefly. “Back in grad school, Bowex was nicknamed the Grandma company. Wanna know why?”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t because they liked to hand out fresh-baked cookies and reminisce about the good old days?” Sarah cocked an eyebrow.

Leslie laughed at the mental image. “Not really, although the latter is true now. It’s a reference to the fact that they’re government owned, so their work ethic is a bit more...relaxed than the borderline slavery going on the big three. Liberty’s bigwigs look at them askance and ask under their breaths if that’s any way to run a business.”

She spotted something on her display and made a quick correction with a button push. “What that means for us is that there’s only a small chance they’ll screw us over, so I say go for it. Inform them of your situation and make sure to mention you have a plus one,” She pointed at herself.

“Sure. I could do with a minimal chance of being screwed over.” Sarah grinned, emptied the last dregs of coffee from her bulb and settled it down beside her, the last remnants of exhaustion slipping away as the caffeine drifted into her blood. “It’s got to beat working in Liberty. Doesn’t quite feel right without someone trying to get the one-up on you, though. I’ll shoot them a note after breakfast, see if I can line up a meeting once we get in. See if I can get us a ride, too. I mean, I like the Galley, but if they’re offering to burn the fuel to get us there…”

Leslie merely pointed an imperious finger at Sarah. “Get it done, Engineer,” She said, her tone trying but not quite matching the authority she was looking for.

“Yes ma’am.” Sarah raised a hand to her forehead in mock salute. The effect was only slightly spoiled by the empty bulb clutched in her hand. “Right after breakfast.”

Sarah unbuckled, pushed the terminal aside and floated up from the chair. “I’m just heading down to take a quick look at the number three. Exhaust velocity's a little high. We're compensating for it, easy, but if I’m not back in half an hour send a rescue party.”

Leslie had already fallen asleep again, but she smiled with her eyes still closed and raised a thumb up. “I’ll be up in twenty when the coffee hits”, She murmured, leaning back in her chair again.

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"This is really sort of a personal project of mine."

- James Arland, on single-handedly engaging an enemy regiment.

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