DIARY OF DECKHAND ALAN A. RICHARDSON 0001 (0011)
03 Apr 2021Chillsner
DIARY OF DECKHAND ALAN A. RICHARDSON 0001
It's official. I was promoted. No longer am I the lowest of the low, I am on the ladder to Captain. Okay so the rank is a long way away from Captain, but I still cling onto the fact that I own my own bona-fide Sidewinder. As you may have guessed, I didn't give up my job and take to the inky blackness of unlimited credits. This was because my contract stated that I was to work for three years, not three months on this forsaken carrier. Why forsaken? Well for the past few months it has been stuck orbiting a forgotten rock known as Omicron Capricorni B. You may remember that place as one of the places where commanders got rich back in the days of the great Painite boom. Now though, it's just an area where people can mine random metals for meagre returns.
Cadet Decker has been pretty quiet. I think he is slowly seething, knowing I got my rank before him. I expect he is hatching some revenge plan to make me look foolish in front of the other cadets. It won't work. I am already plotting my own counter-plan.
We had an intake of new cadets, so my first task as a fresh Deckhand was to scrub the air filters of all the vomit they liberally sprayed out. I had forgotten how disorientating it was to be faced with a mile of Zero-G corridor. Later on I had to empty the toilet tanks and scrub down the water recycler tanks. So far being a Deckhand is suspiciously like being a Cadet, but I had a patch on my arm and a couple of extra credits a week.