Logbook entry

"What Shouldn't be But Is." Deliverance. Part 5

18 Jul 2016Stryker Aune
<< Deliverance. Part 4

Goldberg Orbital, Amphisatsu

My mind was a whirl. A mix of emotions. Perhaps it was the letdown from rebuilding a ship in zero atmosphere with nothing but the scraps around me. Maybe it was actually flying it without so much as having any real training. Maybe it was the realization that my life is now different. The thoughts slipped into what am I going to do now. No prospects. Sure, I have a stiff, some encrypted data, some minerals and a barely functional ship that I could barter with…

*BANG….BANG….BANG* I was snapped out of thoughts by the sound of a heavy metallic knocking emanating from the access port to which I made my over to, and opened. A team of engineers in emergency response suits looked in. Was the ship really in that bad of a state? I shrugged. One of the engineers took a quick look and spoke.

“What the hell is holding this thing together?” Her voice was smooth, like silk.

“Bailing wire and magnets; I’m also pretty sure there is some chewing gum involved somewhere.” I retorted.

She chuckled.

“Hey, you know I need to meet with this Christy Morgan person. Shes with the Amphisatsu Empire Group. Ring any bells in that pretty noggin of yours.” I grinned at my blatant attempt at awkward flattery. One of the more fun things to do is see how people react to brazen actions.

“Ya, like I haven’t heard that one before. The name doesn’t register, but the faction does. They have an office, leeeeets see where.” She pulled out a pad, and fiddled with it for a moment. “Level 14. Section A-5.”

“Ya? how do I get there? Oh, and there’s a stiff in that escape pod, just FYI.”

“It’s called walking, flyboy. I’m sure you remember how to do that. And noted.”

A grin formed on my face. “Seriously, I’ve never been on a space station before.”

She looked me over, and canted her head. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, so a bit of direction would be nice. Though I’m sure I could figure it out if I had too. Save a lad some time wont’cha?”

“There’s an access lift. Take it down. Find an inter-station transport stop, they’re marked.” She explained. “Why don’t you access her on you ships station interface circuit?”

“I had to dismantle that. Needed to make a step-down circuit, and felt that that was something that could be sacrificed. It was that, or the comm system.” I shrugged.

“Uh-huh…Well normally I would say bullshit, but I think in this given situation..."

“You don’t have to take my word for it…. Ba-dum-dum!....You have eyes, take a look at it yourself.”

She just shook her head, and rolled her eyes. Another engineered hurried over. “Its all looks 'tained. Don’t think it’s gunna ‘plode or noffink.” He said.

I nodded. “Rrrrright….Well, I’ll be off then.” Making a thumb gesture to the access port and taking a few slow steps in that direction.

“Ya, Ya….Well…. there will be a report for you when you get back, and a repair quote.” She smiled and looked back at her companion and continued her assessment.

---

I eventually found myself at the office. What an interesting place this station. I will have to look around a bit more. The door opened and I was greeted by a receptionist. Skinny lad. Short brown hair.

“Can I help you?” He asked looking up from whatever mundane task he was doing. Probably playing some game, clandestine. I know because that’s what I would have been doing if I was him.

“Ya, you sure can. I’m looking for Christy Morgan. Got a stiff that belongs to her now and some data.”

He just looked at me. Lost, or something, then suddenly came out of his trance. “Uh...Uh...Oh, uh, okay. Your name?”

“Alvadar Aune.”

He buzzed her, a muffled conversation and a few moments later. “She’ll ah... She'll see you in 20 minutes. Um...T..Take a seat.”

To which I took. The room was like a typical reception waiting room, complete with tacky pictures, and end tables overflowing with outdated magazines. Of course, nothing of interest. So I just sat there waiting. During this time I had noticed that the receptionist kept glancing at me. Whenever I attempted to made eye contact, he looked away. Probably thought I was going to do something brash or sudden. The thought crossed my mind to growl at him, maybe even bark… That amused me. Eventually the door opened, and Christy stood there.

“Mr. Aune.” She waved me in.

She was plump. Neatly dressed. Her suit was pressed and crisp. Her hair greying, and tied into a neat bun at the nap of her neck. Her face showed that she was wise, and had much life experience… Oh who the hell am I kidding. She’s an old bat.

“I understand that you have something for me.” She opened with.

“Ya, a stiff, and an encrypted data pack.”

“Why didn’t you just send it via the station interface?”

“Because I tore it apart.”

“And why would you do that Commander?”

“I’m not a commander.”

“Indeed. Because if you were, you would know how this all works. This is quite irregular. Which ship?”

“Diamond Back Explorer. Registration N1557-643YY-Q4459”

She leaned over and spoke into an interface. A few moments later. “They patched the ship in. Thank-you, Mr. Aune. Commander Jeppson will be reunited with his kin. Though this data is out of date, I suppose we should compensate you for your troubles. She riffled through a drawer and picked out a beat up looking pad to which she typed on and pressed a thumb to, before handing it to me. “Take this to the Bonds Office.”

I looked at it, shocked.

She looked down at some paperwork on her desk and started writing. Without looking up she said “Mr. Aune, that was your cue to leave.”

She must have been a new genetically engineered form of life. A Cold fish-bat…. I walked out. Again the receptionist averted his eyes as I passed by.

Outside the office I looked at the pad. 120,000 credits. One hundred…twenty…thousand…credits. I had never had so much money before. Was this real? Now just to find this bonds office.

---

Well, guess this all is real. New account opened, and credited. I decided to do a bit of shopping. Need some more clothes then the little bit I brought with me. Also hit the gym. Felt good to pump iron again. I really start to miss it after a day or so. Kinda balances me out. While I was there, I noticed a flier for a MMA club. Took one. Might be fun. Got a bite to eat. Was good food, though I was raised on a backwater dusty spec of a planet, so I'm sure anything would be considered cuisine compared to what I was use to.

Acquired some accommodations to stay in. Took a shower and shaved my head. Got dressed. No shirt, no shoes, just a comfy pair of sweat pants, and all ready to loose myself in the media center when there was a chime at the door. Answering it reviled exactly one, and no more, cold fish-bats.

"Mr. Aune." Was Christy's greeting

"Can I help you?" I asked, leaning on the door frame, hand over my head.

"It was brought to my attention that you, are quite an engineer."

"I donno about that."

"The engineering crew that was assigned to your ship, said that some rather remarkable patches, albeit, unorthodox, were made to that vessel. I would rather like to discuss this more in detail with you." She pushed herself past me, and sat on one of the chairs.

"Come on in...." I remarked sarcastically, not at all amused, but curious.

"Tell me, Mr. Aune, why these particular patches."

I recounted the story. Took about 10 minutes. Mostly just a summary. She remained mostly quiet through the exposition, with the occasional question for clarification.

"Mr. Aune, the Empire has a need for people that are uniquely gifted with the talents that you seem to posses."

"And?" I questioned.

"We would rather like to enroll your services."

I didn't say anything.

"Mr. Aune. Trigger happy cowboys are twelve for ten cents. Put a gun in their hand, tell them who to kill, and they execute the order. What we need are people that can critically think and work out complicated solutions with what they have on hand.

"I think you mean, 'A Dime a Dozen'." I corrected her.

"Perhaps, the way you shop, Mr. Aune. The point is, I think we could work out a mutually beneficial arrangement."

She actually has a sense of humor under all that prim and proper. I can dig that. "Okay, what are you proposing?" I asked.

"Mr. Aune, what level of education do you have?"

"I dropped out of school. Learning theory and all that, just didn't jive with me. I learn better using my hands."

She took a moment to think "I see. What I am proposing, is that we send you to the Imperial Corps of Engineers training facility on Cubeo. You'll receive a proper education, and we train you to correctly pilot a ship and in return, you work for the Empire."

"Work doing what exactly?"

"Various jobs that arise. Mr. Aune. I will give you three days to consider your answer. You know where my office is. Until then, we will cover the cost of your accommodations, and expenses." She pushed herself up, and made for the door, leaving me to my thoughts.



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