Starting Over

[aref_naa]

The lights flashed up on the computer terminal, calling up a list of impending departures. "Let's see..." the trenchcoat-clad man murmured to himself, "where is it..." He leaned in a little, eyes narrowing at the departure manifest. "Heh... 'StarTrucker'... what a horrible name..." he added. His visage peered back at him, reflected in the terminal- broad, honest face, brown hair pulled back behind his head in a queue. "Need to shave," he muttered to himself, rubbing his fingers over his chin. His moustache was long and droopy, but he kept his chin immaculately shaven. He grinned at that, and picking up his bag and a largish black case, headed toward the gate that the terminal had listed. He glanced at a clock on the wall as he passed. "I've just got time..." He moved quickly, the Neplislian spaceport not all that crowded this time of the morning. Upon arrival, he tapped the intercom pad.

A voice emanated from the panel, a bit crackly- the intercom must be failing, he thought. <<This is Kurt, what is it?>>

"Edgar Dobbson here. Yesterday I talked to you about trans-"

The intercom cut him off. <<Yes, yes, just get on board. Don't want to be late. >> He shrugged. "Right."

The door slid open, and he walked down the ramp to the shuttle, a small affair, and- he hoped- in worse shape than the ship itself. He boarded, giving a nod to the pilot, settling onto the bench, setting down his case. A small port crew brought a few cases to the shuttle- which were stored in the passenger cabin, for speed of departure. He leaned his head back against the wall, and the bay door closed, the shuttle beginning to hum as its engines powered up. He felt the shuttle leave the ground, and contented himself with simply sitting and relaxing on the way up to the Oberon-class ship in orbit.

He sighed a bit, drumming his fingers idly over the black case. "I need to stop doing this one-shot crap..." he muttered to himself.

Time passed, and he relaxed, his attention focused on his thoughts as the shuttle pulled out of Neplislia's gravity, and he felt an unfamiliar lurch as the shuttle's gravitational field began to work, then something failed and he and the cargo both began to slowly move about the bay. He shook his head, and took a position against the wall where he could brace himself. "Dammit... I seriously hope the ship is in better shape," he murmured, though it wasn't long until he began to feel the pull of gravity once more. He assumed that the shuttle was docking with the StarTrucker. The cargo cases tumbled about as their gravity increased, though thankfully none toppled onto Edgar.

The bay door opened, and he stepped out into the shuttlebay, bag and case in hand. "Good god, it is that bad," he muttered to himself. He sighed a little, and walked across the shuttlebay. "I'm Dobbson... where'm I going?" he asked the man at the control panel.

The man grunted, and looked up at him. "Oh, you're the passenger... a cot in cargo bay one," he mutters, pointing in the general direction, out of the shuttlebay. "Damn lucky that the captain was feeling generous. Usually he won't barter. Welding tools're in the bay. Port bulkhead."

Edgar nodded, and took up his baggage once more, walking lazily through the ship. He found the cargo bay easily enough, and set his baggage down near the cot. The bulkhead that the shuttlebay attendant had been referring to was in obvious need of repair... there was a decent crack running down the metal. He set his baggage and coat down, and moved over to the wall, picking up the welding helmet lying there. "Well, here's to free bloody enterprise," he said sourly. His recent lack of work seemed to have been getting to him. He donned the helmet, started up the welder, and set to work.

 

[aref_naa]

Sparks erupted from the bulkhead in showers of blue and white, and the scent of burning metal rose through the air. Working without a helmet, now, simply looking away as he worked, Edgar was just about finished with the repair of the bulkhead. He could feel the ship slowing- he had certainly paid for the trip in spades. The job was probably the most metalwork he'd done at once for a long while. A few more showers of sparks, the arc of electricity between the bulkhead and the portable welder he had been given by Kurt for this job lighting up the entire room as well as a bolt of lightning, and he was finished. He pulled off the welding helmet, and tossed it unceremoniously aside. He retrieved his shirt from where he had tossed it half an hour ago, and mopped his face with it. "Think they'd at least have a decent climate control..." he muttered.

The ship now began to slow, and he sat down, bracing himself against the bulkhead. After a time, one of the crew enters the cargo bay from the hall. "Hey... you Edgar?" he calls.

"Yeah," Edgar responded, "what's up?" His voice was rather exhausted, and it was clear that he would really rather not be bothered.

"Cap said I ought to give you this. Some guy lookin for workers. We're swinging near the system when we head outta here. Said to tell you we can drop you there if you want. But you gotta finish another bulkhead first." The crewman sounded rather unintelligent, but well-meaning.

"Mnh... that all?" Edgar shook his head a bit. "Hell, a job's a job, though. Tell him I'll give it a shot. But I'm going to take a break. I'll get to the next damn bulkhead when I've rested a bit, mmm?" He flops down dejectedly.

"We're here for a couple hours, yet. You've got time." The crewman shook his head, and simply turned, letting the flyer fall, and began to move back to his post.

The flyer slowly swayed as it fell to the ground, eventually sliding across the floor, within a few feet of Edgar's left hand. It was an advertisement- apparently someone named 'Mick' was looking for people to staff a station. "Hmph..." he muttered. "At least it's work..." He let his eyes drift closed, resting a while. When he felt the ship begin to prepare for travel again, he got up, picked up his welder, and donned his mask, filling the room with blue flashes once more as he set to work repairing another crack.