Getting By
"Swing around on the port-bow Rigger, we've got some space junk about to hit us in the rear" explained Rigger as the static cut his voice off over the ships' intercom.
"What the Neptunes' ass is a port-bow? Some kind of weapon?" I replied, not being careful to smash the intercom as he pressed the buttons to reply.
"Na, it's one of those boat-terms back on old Earth, means you turn the ship to the right... I think.."
"A boat eh? Hell, haven't seen one of those in a while, you think quad 16 got some we could borrow?"
"Durant, quad 16 is a holiday resort for the rich and fancy, complete with anti-gravity water slides and air tight domes that look like fish bowls"
"Ain't that the truth.. Alright, I'm turning the ship now, wouldn't want to hit any mid-space shopping trolley's"
"Aw Durant, call her by her name every once in a while"
"I haven't gotten round to calling every shopping trolley we see floating through sp-"
"Not the debris idiot, our ship!"
"You mean the hung-of-junk tin can that you named so elegantly, The Rusty Cannon?"
"Don't be tarnishing that name, I think it suits her beautifully"
"Suits my be-hind better.."
"Sorry, what was that, intercom got a bit static-y when you said that"
".. Nothing Rigger.."
"That's what I thought. I'll be coming back in soon, just got to make the final repairs on the outer hull and we should be good to go"
You'd think Rigger and myself would be the top of the top class, having a ship worthy of space-travel and all, but we picked up this beauty for a mere 70000 Guno's a couple of years back, with good intentions as well. It was sold to us as a 'human transport ship', for tourists and the like, so we could cater to their every need when travelling between quadrants. That got boring fast, and the money paid by the rich and snooty was below minimum. So, we searched around, read up on the news from time to time, and what do you know, we found out that a ship had been apprehended that was the same model as the one we got now, for smuggling food between the outer quadrants. The problem with theirs was that they had no camouflage, no carefulness about them when travelling in open space, so, back then, we thought of the idea of giving it a try ourselves. Man it's a lot of fun. Sure, we get into our fair share of fights, but it's all worth it in the end, all we had to do was cover the outer shell in Una metal, making it a glimmer of nothingness on enemy ships unless they knew what they were looking for (and most in The Coalition don't know how to count past the fingers they got), and attach a couple of grade C8 cannons on either side. The ammo ain't cheap, but we don't have to use them for much, maybe occasionally to scare a couple of passersby, but that's about it. The pay isn't so bad either, people can get pretty desperate for food, usually giving us jewels and the like to sell on the market for a hefty sum of money. They even let us have some of the food some of the time. For example, this one guy, real posh and snooty, like most, comes onto our ship with a crate load of steaks and shakes our hand warmly, saying he needs us to get them to the other side of the galaxy for a party, and the route there ain't exactly safe for most. Don't get me wrong though, this guy was alright, he came from the bottom like us and made his fortune elsewhere, so he wasn't afraid to shake our hand, sit and eat with us, and share a tale or two over some 8 ounce steak. Man, that steak hit all the spots, juicy, warm, everything a food smuggler could ask for for a bonus.
Anyway, here we our, Rigger's and me, floating through space waiting for our next request. Rigger's has been with me for a long time now, meeting once at a fancy ball where we were working as waiters part time, and we got to talking. He told me about this, I told him about that, and eventually, we both would look up, past the artificial atmosphere and the electrical discharge from the fake clouds to space, the one beauty left for men like us that The Coalition can't touch, can't spoil. A place where we can be free men, so to speak, journeying across the stars, and not giving a second thought why. I don't know what I'd do without him, he's the repair and negotiator after all. Sure, he can speak a bit better than I, but we're still on the same boat at the end of the day... Huh.. boat....
"Hey Rigger's, I just figured out what you meant by that boat term!"
"Look alive Durant, I'm seeing ships off over yonder, they don't look friendly"
"Coalition?"
"Na... I think it's the Fleacers.."
"Fleacers, you mean the pirate trash?"
"Yeah.. that a problem?"
Nothing we can't handle.
"Swing around on the port-bow Rigger, we've got some space junk about to hit us in the rear" explained Rigger as the static cut his voice off over the ships' intercom.
"What the Neptunes' ass is a port-bow? Some kind of weapon?" I replied, not being careful to smash the intercom as he pressed the buttons to reply.
"Na, it's one of those boat-terms back on old Earth, means you turn the ship to the right... I think.."
"A boat eh? Hell, haven't seen one of those in a while, you think quad 16 got some we could borrow?"
"Durant, quad 16 is a holiday resort for the rich and fancy, complete with anti-gravity water slides and air tight domes that look like fish bowls"
"Ain't that the truth.. Alright, I'm turning the ship now, wouldn't want to hit any mid-space shopping trolley's"
"Aw Durant, call her by her name every once in a while"
"I haven't gotten round to calling every shopping trolley we see floating through sp-"
"Not the debris idiot, our ship!"
"You mean the hung-of-junk tin can that you named so elegantly, The Rusty Cannon?"
"Don't be tarnishing that name, I think it suits her beautifully"
"Suits my be-hind better.."
"Sorry, what was that, intercom got a bit static-y when you said that"
".. Nothing Rigger.."
"That's what I thought. I'll be coming back in soon, just got to make the final repairs on the outer hull and we should be good to go"
You'd think Rigger and myself would be the top of the top class, having a ship worthy of space-travel and all, but we picked up this beauty for a mere 70000 Guno's a couple of years back, with good intentions as well. It was sold to us as a 'human transport ship', for tourists and the like, so we could cater to their every need when travelling between quadrants. That got boring fast, and the money paid by the rich and snooty was below minimum. So, we searched around, read up on the news from time to time, and what do you know, we found out that a ship had been apprehended that was the same model as the one we got now, for smuggling food between the outer quadrants. The problem with theirs was that they had no camouflage, no carefulness about them when travelling in open space, so, back then, we thought of the idea of giving it a try ourselves. Man it's a lot of fun. Sure, we get into our fair share of fights, but it's all worth it in the end, all we had to do was cover the outer shell in Una metal, making it a glimmer of nothingness on enemy ships unless they knew what they were looking for (and most in The Coalition don't know how to count past the fingers they got), and attach a couple of grade C8 cannons on either side. The ammo ain't cheap, but we don't have to use them for much, maybe occasionally to scare a couple of passersby, but that's about it. The pay isn't so bad either, people can get pretty desperate for food, usually giving us jewels and the like to sell on the market for a hefty sum of money. They even let us have some of the food some of the time. For example, this one guy, real posh and snooty, like most, comes onto our ship with a crate load of steaks and shakes our hand warmly, saying he needs us to get them to the other side of the galaxy for a party, and the route there ain't exactly safe for most. Don't get me wrong though, this guy was alright, he came from the bottom like us and made his fortune elsewhere, so he wasn't afraid to shake our hand, sit and eat with us, and share a tale or two over some 8 ounce steak. Man, that steak hit all the spots, juicy, warm, everything a food smuggler could ask for for a bonus.
Anyway, here we our, Rigger's and me, floating through space waiting for our next request. Rigger's has been with me for a long time now, meeting once at a fancy ball where we were working as waiters part time, and we got to talking. He told me about this, I told him about that, and eventually, we both would look up, past the artificial atmosphere and the electrical discharge from the fake clouds to space, the one beauty left for men like us that The Coalition can't touch, can't spoil. A place where we can be free men, so to speak, journeying across the stars, and not giving a second thought why. I don't know what I'd do without him, he's the repair and negotiator after all. Sure, he can speak a bit better than I, but we're still on the same boat at the end of the day... Huh.. boat....
"Hey Rigger's, I just figured out what you meant by that boat term!"
"Look alive Durant, I'm seeing ships off over yonder, they don't look friendly"
"Coalition?"
"Na... I think it's the Fleacers.."
"Fleacers, you mean the pirate trash?"
"Yeah.. that a problem?"
Nothing we can't handle.
