Starting Over (Again)
12 Jul 2023Doc Scalawag
I flexed the fingers on my cybernetic right hand and worked the wrist around as I sat in the cockpit of the shiny new Cobra Mk.III. I had accumulated a small fortune doing mercenary work and legal salvage operations. Second Heartbeat wasn't an expensive vessel, and I could never bring myself to buying something nicer, so I had saved up quite a bit of liquidity. Between settling my bounty with Interstellar Factors, replacing the destroyed vessel, and the cost of the prosthesis, I was wiped out again. It wasn't the first time I had to start over, but it was the hardest.I moped around Venture Scrapitalist for three weeks doing what odd jobs I could with only one arm. There were plenty of basic tasks to do around the Beluga to keep me busy, and the work served to both keep my mind off the depression that had set in at the loss of my ship, and to give me some exercise after my recovery. Abigail offered to pay me for the work, but it felt too much like charity, and I refused, stating that it was the least I could do after all she had done for me. She had just looked at me, smiled sorrowfully, and nodded.
Dr. Zahn hadn't said much of anything to me during the several weeks I was on board the Scrapitalist, but he insisted that he be the one to do the cybernetic implant when we arrived at Midgeley Dock. He had said something about not leaving a job unfinished and how he didn't trust the "Federation butchers" not to make a mess of his hard work. It took some legwork, since Zahn did not have privileges at ANY hospital in Federation space, but the end result was a very beautifully crafted prosthetic at a several-million credit discount. The arm was an ivory color with intricate engravings filled with what appeared to be actual gold. There were even a few low-temperature diamonds inlaid throughout the design, which was reminiscent of those fancy Gutamaya ships cherished so by Imperial pilots. It probably should have cost triple what I paid for it, which was quite a lot.
Aftee several minutes, I was granted clearance to launch, and the platform holding the Cobra, dubbed Heretic, lurched forward. After a few moments, the docking clamps retracted an I was flying once again.
Venture Scrapitalist was waiting a short distance outside of the access corridor, oriented away from the station. As I approached the Saud Kruger slowly from the rear, I noted her worn paint, white with red accents. The word "Ambulance" was painted on the side, also in red. I smiled for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Typical Abi. I slowed further as I approached the bow of the mighty ship, and threw a salute to the unseen crew within. A message popped up on the communication panel:
O7 CMDR. Good luck, and don't be a stranger, ok?
I smiled again, keyed in a quick "Thank you" into the message bar, hit "send," and then throttled up. As I passed in front of the Beluga, I noticed that Sinclair had also painted the word "Ambulance" across the front of her ship, but this time, the letters were backwards, as if to be read in a mirror. The laugh that erupted from my gut would have knocked me from my chair if not for the safety harness and lack of gravity. I was still chuckling as I keyed up the Frame Shift Drive, and jumped out of the system.
Yup, typical Abi.