The Sentinel Fulcrum, 22: Never Trust
10 Jan 2022Meowers
Crap! Crap! Where was my fff... goddamn fff... brain when I was rerouting the controls to this man? To a man? Where was my goddamn brain when I left my personal cabin unlocked? Ah, okay, the first aid, but I was trained to do that... And I was doing that during..not the most pleasant years of my life. Had to patch myself... Ugh. Ffff... Hate it. So hate it! How much of that crap will happen before I learn stuff? First, those Delaine's suckers, now that! Never. Trust. A. Man. Goddammit! No matter now friendly he looks. Now I'm pinned down to the wall, wounded, weakened, unarmed, against a healthy man who wants to take control of my ship and tie me to the bed. Different faces, same scenario. FFff... Hate it, hate, hate! Ugh... Stop, stop, let's think serious... Marshmallow never let me down, she's my soulmate... In fact, I'd left her down several times, and she still forgives me..sorry... This will never happen again...
Crap! Why am I so stupid!
Ah, okay, he did that first aid stuff... But, how can I be sure that it was..not an another attempt to make me drop my guard. And then he will do anything he wants with me. As..he's already trying to limit my movements.
Never trust a man, no matter how friendly he looks. It all started a millenia and a half ago. First, they open the doors before you, then they see you weak and inferior, untermensch. They will spit on your dignity, your will, your property, they will always try to make things go their own way.
Still, I can't fight... But I can talk. Talk my way out of this goddamn mess I've made for myself. By helping that guy with his alien trinkets and his godforsaken old frozen dead trapped lost worthless broken ship infested with hell knows what kind of abomination. And those slaver-looking folks who shot me. Crap! Stupid, stupid me. Okay, okay... Talking isn't my best, certainly, but..it's the only viable option now.
"Sure! Thank you... I doubt Komotae Mental Health Centre deal with..gunshot wounds, so..Let it be..Any independent system with..a large starport. You know..Marshmallow is marked hostile..by the Big Three. So..they will try to kill us. And..I'll stay here... Just..a coffee and a pack..No, two packs of meat jerky. And..I'll be fine."
At least this cabin has a computer console...
And I hate when my life goes out of my control.
Nobody can say 'I'll tie you down' to me, take control of Marshmallow, and get away with it. Just nobody. It can't be tolerated. Even with that friendly tone and playful wink. Especially with a friendly tone and a playful wink. At least, when I see an armed thug with Delaine's Crew badge and a paralysing stick... Or an authority enforcer who 'asks' people to pay up for 'protection'... I know what's going to happen. But this! Miserable, dirty trick of a goddamn slicky scoundrel.
When I heard my former companion's steps... Ah...fff...I just hate those moments, you know? First, they make you trust them. Then they use you, take over your ship, everything, when you're weakened, injured, powerless to do anything to resist. And sometimes they make it look like a 'favour', so you will also blame yourself for any resistance. Just... Just imagine that messed up crap! You're being used, you do the dirty work, and then they rip you off when you're unable to stop it. But if you do, they will make you guilty in addition! Crap..I hate it, I just... Uncontrollably hate it.
So, when I heard his steps and then the navcomputer bleeps... Hah... You're not going anywhere on that ship! Making sure that he's far away enough, I floated carefully to the door and locked it. With an administrator-level password known only to me. Then that computer console..come on, boot up... I don't want to do it in hyperspace... I may be not fit for a real fight, being already wounded, but I won't give up that easy..hah. My ancestors are smiling at me... Ah, let's go. Let's do it now. Administrator access. Ship management. Controls. Pilot seat. Turn off. Co-pilot seat. Turn off. Cockpit tech consoles. Turn off. Yeah! Hah, in your face... Now we're just drifting in the vacuum... And I'm safe here, in that locked cabin.
Then I took a bit of time to inspect a wound on my stomach, removing the bandage..ugh... Looks nasty, area is wide enough.. But my internals are okay, it's just an..external bleeding, a big scratch, to be honest. Thankfully, I have first aid training as well, and can tell what's really dangerous and what's not..did he actually tried to trick me, telling that I'm critical? To make me..calm and docile? So, the wound..painfully looking, and definitely painful without any medication, but... Not as dangerous as you may think. Right leg is badly hurt, and left shoulder maybe too, I still have certain troubles with movements..hah, it's an awesome moment to 'help' me, ripping me off in the process and throwing those 'friendly-looking threats', really...
After bandaging the wound again, I've activated the comms on my helmet..hah, blood-covered helmet... And linked the comms to the onboard announcement system.
"Good day, passengers!..This is your..captain speaking..commander Ina Muir. Welcome aboard..the Marshmallow. See, saying 'I'll tie you down'..and taking over the..controls is prohibited. Six people..already gave up their..lives, trying to do it. So..you're not..going anywhere on..my ship."