The soft tone was enough to draw him out of the puddle of drool on his console. Eyelashes parted slowly as white filled his vision. The console remained blurry as his eyes adjusted. What was once a series of solid lines became coherent letters and text. The word 'physics' stood out clearly. He slowly sat up, a piece of soggy paper fell from the side of his face."Fell asleep again,"He murmured in a gruff voice. As his head rose, his neck made an audible pop. Instinctively, a hand clutched at the sore area. He rubbed softly, looking about the room with squinting eyes.
The tone rang again, a console flickering to life with the words'INCOMING MESSAGE'. With a groan, he flicked the reply button. A rather angry, pudgy face with wide green eyes and thin lips filled the screen. His face was clean-shaven and his red hair was slicked back."You were supposed to be at work five minutes ago! We have a pile-up in front of docking bay two and the transports can't leave! Get to work right now or you're fired!"He shouted. With that, the screen flicked off.
"Douche..."He murmured.
Joints protested as he stood up. Without a proper bed, your body didn't rest very well. Especially his. With even more reluctance and pained protest, he donned his bland beige jumpsuit. The Ageira label on the right breast pocket was faded, betraying the fact that Ageira was down in the dumps with its employee care.
After three floors and a short elevator ride, he was in the control center of the mining base. His seat, overlooking a rather large yet bland set of screens, was empty. With clipboard in hand, he sat down, instinctively speaking his name and password for the main computer,Jim-Bob Walton, authorization code Charlie-Delta-Zebra-Five-Dash-Two.A soft beep acknowledged his clearance, screens flickering to life before him.
Angry messages requesting clearance to dock were being sent and resent; impatient convoys representing Universal, Samura, and Kishiro found themselves more important than others and demanded to speak with the man in charge. Tough crap,He murmured softly. Depressing a button, he spoke clearly,This is Pueblo Station to Kishiro convoy Alpha-Five. You are clear to dock.
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"
With a creak, the chair was tilted back and his feet were put up on the console. It was a long day and the pay was crap, but at least it had a pay. A small chime indicated another convoy approached. "This is Zoners black-three..." The woman spoke softly. That meant she wasn't requesting to dock. And Zoners went to a lot of amusing places. Time to chat. He keyed the intercom, "This is Pueblo Station. Good luck out there. Where are you from and where are you headed?"He spoke as if it were talking to a good friend. A little unnerving, yet warm and nonthreatening.
"We're from the Bering system. We're headed to the Omicron-Theta system,"She said back in a friendly tone.
"Oh? And how is Bering?"
"Get a lot of Rogue, Unioner, and Xenos attacks if that's what you're asking about."
"I thought the Zoners were neutral?"This was the first about this he's heard. Or is this the first time he's cared....?
"Did you also think pirates were not blood-thirsty predators who only care about money and loot?"She arched a brow.
"Good point..."With a sigh, he watched as her ship hit the trade lane ring."Well...good luck,"He said.
"And to you," She said back. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his eyes. After five hours of telling ships they could and could not dock; alerted the passing ships about pirates; said hello and good bye to passing ship; and even screamed for assistance to Navy ships, he just wanted to rest. But there was no time. His college work was still so engrossing. Flip-flopping between school and work was a chore, even though he had a lot of free time on the station. When he wasn't telling convoys the obvious, he was working on his physics or business work. Fun.
Right now he was covering the Cryer method of Liberty's laws. In other words: Loopholes. Every chance he got, he worked at making the illegal seem legal. Why? He didn't know. Perhaps it was because he wanted to kill his boss an-"WALTON!"The shout rang out at such a surprising moment that Jim-Bob fell off his chair. Snickers and chuckles were cast out as he attempted to stand. Before he could get up, a well dressed plump man stood before him; hands on his hips, eyes glaring, and teeth bared."You miserable little cretin! You have been SLACKING!"The word was used as if it were a final sentence.
"What did I do, Mister Bolk?"He asked innocently. He wanted to laugh every time he said the name. It was Bretonian and it really showed in his accent and manner. Jim-Bob tried to get up again, but he decided against. Bolk never truly exploded at the pitiful.
"You let three convoys pass without even scanning the cargo! You didn't even acknowledge a USI convoy! And the poor LPI are still flying around looking for pirates!"People remained focused on their tasks, trying not to laugh. It was ridiculous and they knew it.
"Sorry, Sir. It won't happen again, Sir,"He spoke sheepishly. Despite having a gruff voice, it actually worked to sound pathetic. He stood up, standing at his full height of six foot six. Mister Bolk was a measly five foot nine. In order to make him feel more powerful, Jim-Bob lowered his head submissively. Bolk seemed happy.
After Bolk stormed off without replying, Jim-Bob looked around, smiled broadly, and sat back down at his post. He picked his work back up and casually scribbled down a few notes in the text-book.
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"