One Good Deed: Part One

Undefined Undefined One Good Deed

Content

“All right, Jess. I’m heading there now.” With a flick, Umar closed the comm channel. Break time over. Swinging his feet out of the bunk, a swarm of sandwich crumbs cascaded off his chest and onto the bed. He really should start eating at the table again. At least his bad habit of wearing his boots to bed made sense. After working for In-A-Fix Assistance for the past six years he had learned that comms for help always happen about five minutes into a nap.

Leaving the crew quarters, Umar performed a quick a visual inspection on the three BARD drones nestled into the mid-ship docking ports. Charged and not leaking? Check and check. Skipping over the empty fourth port, he gave his favorite drone, Spear, a traditional pat for luck before heading up to the bridge.

Umar adjusted his settings as he sat down in the pilot seat, transitioning the power he had routed to the shields for nap-time back to the engines. With a growl, the thrusters came back online. He keyed the coordinates Jess had sent over into his navigation, swung the Vulcan’s nose around and initiated quantum to the nearside of Cano’s asteroid belt.

Under two minutes, Umar noted as the light smears from the quantum field streaked past. Not too shabby of a response time. While you could always count on life’s ill fortune sending clients your way, providing good service was how you could convert a random refuel run into a potential repeat customer. Especially out in Cano where traffic was a bit sparse.

The ship slowed out of QT and Umar adjusted his flight path towards the beacon’s origin on the rim of the belt. After a few moments of navigating through the field, he spotted the client’s Reliant clinging near the underside of one of the asteroids. He might have missed it completely if he hadn’t had the beacon frequency. Its signature was low enough that the small craft almost blended seamlessly into the surrounding radiation. Pilot must have shut down everything to conserve energy once they ran out of fuel.

Before opening comms, he followed protocol and did a full scan of the area. No point in flying to the rescue if you fly straight into a threat and wind up needing rescuing too. With his MFD giving the all clear, he hailed the client. “Hi, there. I’m Umar Deluca from In-A-Fix. You requested a refueling?”

“That’s me. Thanks for coming out,” responded the pilot, with a kind, weathered smile.

“Of course, that’s what we’re here for. Let me get into position, and then we can have you back flying in no time.”

As Umar rolled his ship above and behind the vessel, he could clearly see that the Reliant’s hull had been badly damaged. There were scorch marks all along the rear fuselage and multiple ballistic holes perforated the wing. Umar had a pretty good guess what caused the pilot to run out of fuel.

“Not sure if you know this but your port dorsal side is pretty banged up. If you want, I could patch you up while I’m out here. Wouldn’t take long and it’d be heck of a lot safer to fly.”

“Appreciate the offer, but creds are tight. Just the fuel for now.”

“Sure. No problem. Stand by and I’ll have the drone right over.”

Umar got out of the pilot seat and went to the control station at the rear of the bridge. He scrolled through his options — Spear for rearming, Shake for repairs, and Liam for refueling. Selecting Liam, he did one last check, and seeing all green, launched the fuel-laden drone. With practiced ease, he maneuvered Liam towards the other vessel’s fuel port.

“Transfer in progress,” Umar informed the pilot.

“Listen, I hate to ask this, but there is actually one more thing you could do for me,” said the pilot, looking bashful as he nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Any chance you have a drink or some water you could spare? Fuel wasn’t the only thing I forgot to stock up on and I’m starting to feel pretty dehydrated.”

Umar hesitated in answering. It wasn’t the sharing that was the issue, but the time. He had hoped to be able to pick up at least two more jobs today and he knew from experience how hard it could sometimes be getting a guest to leave your ship.

“Listen, if it’s a problem, I can just wait till I can fly myself to a station or something.”

Umar felt a twinge of guilt. What was he doing out here if he wasn’t going to help people? “It’s no problem,” Umar said with as much hospitality as he could muster. “If I’m filling up your ship, might as well top you off too. Swing on over and I’ll fix you up.”

Leaving Liam to do its thing, Umar remotely opened the Vulcan’s rear hatch and went to wait by the liftlock in the crew quarters. It wasn’t too long before he heard the pressure begin to cycle. He cracked the fridge, removed two fizzy water cans, and turned just as the atmosphere in the lift equalized.

Umar was a bit taken aback when the pilot bent slightly to avoid hitting his head as he stepped out. The man was very tall, and having a helmet on only made him more imposing. Suddenly, the crew quarters felt a lot more cramped.

“Hope you like etrog flavor,” said Umar, offering the can. “Otherwise I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with tap.”

The pilot didn’t take the drink. Didn’t even take off his helmet. “The rest of your crew still up in the cockpit?”

“No, it’s just me.” Umar regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

With a smooth motion, the pilot pulled out the pistol he had hidden in his EVA pack. “Sorry about this, but I need your ship.”


Umar’s wrists were aching from struggling against the tape that bound him to the control terminal chair. It was rated for sealing hulls so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he hadn’t been able to loosen it, but he had to try.

At the front of the bridge, the pilot was navigating the Vulcan out of the asteroid field. The control terminal flashed a warning that Liam was moving out of range.

“Come on,” implored Umar. “You could have at least let me get my drone.”

“Look, I’d prefer not to have to gag you,” said the pilot. “I know how uncomfortable it can be.”

“Screw you. Don’t pretend like you’re some decent guy just because you have manners. Not only did you steal my ship, but you pretended to be in trouble to do it. I tried to help you and this is how you thank me?”

The pilot didn’t say anything, just kept his attention on the nav map.

“You know, every time an asshole like you pulls a stunt like this it just makes it that much harder for real folks in trouble to get the help they need. Who’s gonna stop and lend a hand if there’s a more than decent chance they’re gonna get a bullet for their troubles? So yeah, double screw you.” Just like his struggles against the tape, Umar didn’t really expect his rant to help the situation, but it definitely made him feel better.

Surprisingly though, the pilot responded. “I’m not stealing your ship. As soon as I get where I’m going, you can have it back.”

“Oh, in that case, let’s crank some tunes and enjoy the ride,” said Umar with a sneer when a sudden thought occurred to him. “Wait. What the hell was wrong with your ship?”

“They knew my regtag.”

“Who’s they?”

No response. Instead, the pilot finished plotting a course on the nav, and spooled the quantum drive. Colorful lights streaked past as the Vulcan surged forward. In the distance, Umar could see Pox, the last planet in the system, steadily growing larger. Umar had been hoping that they would head towards Carteyna where there would have been more of a chance of running into some authorities, but out here in the far reaches the chances of running into another ship were far slimmer.

“You know you could have just asked for a ride,” said Umar, breaking the temporary silence. “But that’s the problem with people like you, isn’t it? Just take what you want rather than earn it. You wanna know why I fly this rig? It’s so I can undo a little bit of the damage that people like you create. The universe is dark enough without us having to hurt each other.”

The quantum lights faded and the pilot pushed back his chair and stood. Walking past his captive, he headed down into the rear of the ship.

“Where you going?” asked Umar.

“To get the gag.”

Before Umar could respond, a shrill alarm sounded.

“What the hell is that?” the pilot demanded, leaping back up the stairs.

“ECN alert.” Umar looked down at the pop-up notification on his terminal. “Nearby ship sprung a core leak in their power plant. They’re not gonna have long.”

The pilot tapped the controls, silencing the notification. “Poor bastards. That’s a tough way to go.”

“We have to go help them.”

“I’m really starting to think you don’t understand this whole kidnapped thing.”

“If we don’t help them now, they’re going to die.”

“And that’s terrible, but it’s not my problem.”

“Of course it’s your damn problem. You heard the alert. Their power plant is overloading and if the radiation doesn’t fry them, the explosion will. You ignore it, you’re killing them. That simple.”

“And if there’s any security in the area and they show up to help, then I’m as good as dead too.”

“Do you know where we are? It’s a miracle we even heard the alert. We are it. We are their only hope in this universe. Don’t you get that?” Unbidden, tears welled up in Umar’s eyes. “Please.”

The pilot stared at his captive for a long moment.

“If you say one word about me, or try to signal them in any way, you’re going out the airlock. No second chances. Understood?”

Not daring to say anything and risk the pilot changing his mind, Umar quickly and emphatically nodded his agreement.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this.”

The pilot sat back down and adjusted the Vulcan’s course towards the beacon’s signal. As he spun the quantum drive back up, he shook his head in disbelief, “I mean, look how well stopping to help someone worked out for you.”

TO BE CONTINUED
"In Ordnung, Jess. Ich fahre jetzt dorthin." Mit einem Klick schloss Umar den Kommunikationskanal. Die Pause ist vorbei. Als er seine Füße aus der Koje schwang, kaskadierte ein Schwarm von Sandwichkrümeln von seiner Brust auf das Bett. Er sollte wirklich wieder am Tisch essen. Zumindest seine schlechte Angewohnheit, seine Stiefel im Bett zu tragen, machte Sinn. Nachdem er in den letzten sechs Jahren für In-A-Fix Assistance gearbeitet hatte, hatte er gelernt, dass Kommunikation für Hilfe immer etwa fünf Minuten nach einem Nickerchen stattfindet.

Als Umar die Mannschaftsunterkünfte verließ, führte sie eine schnelle visuelle Inspektion der drei BARD-Drohnen durch, die sich in die mittleren Dockhäfen der Schiffe schmiegen. Geladen und nicht undicht? Überprüfen und überprüfen. Als er über den leeren vierten Hafen sprang, gab er seiner Lieblingsdrohne Speer, einen traditionellen Glückstreffer, bevor er zur Brücke aufbrach.

Umar passte seine Einstellungen an, als er sich auf den Pilotsitz setzte und die Energie, die er zu den Schilden geleitet hatte, für die Nickerchenzeit zurück zu den Triebwerken übertrug. Mit einem Knurren gingen die Triebwerke wieder an. Er tippte die Koordinaten ein, die Jess in seine Navigation geschickt hatte, schwang die Nase des Vulkaniers herum und initiierte Quanten zur Unterseite von Canos Asteroidengürtel.

Unter zwei Minuten stellte Umar fest, wie das Licht aus dem vorbeifliegenden Quantenfeld schimmert. Nicht zu schlecht für eine Antwortzeit. Während Sie sich immer darauf verlassen konnten, dass das Unglück des Lebens Kunden auf Ihre Weise schickt, war der gute Service, wie Sie einen zufälligen Tankvorgang in einen potenziellen Wiederholkunden umwandeln konnten. Vor allem in Cano, wo der Verkehr etwas spärlich war.

Das Schiff verlangsamte sich aus QT und Umar stellte seine Flugroute auf den Ursprung des Bakens am Rand des Gürtels ein. Nach ein paar Augenblicken der Navigation durch das Feld entdeckte er den Reliquenten des Klienten, der sich in der Nähe der Unterseite eines der Asteroiden befand. Er hätte es vielleicht komplett verpasst, wenn er nicht die Bakenfrequenz gehabt hätte. Seine Signatur war so niedrig, dass sich das kleine Schiff fast nahtlos in die umgebende Strahlung einfügt. Der Pilot muss alles abgeschaltet haben, um Energie zu sparen, sobald ihm der Treibstoff ausgegangen ist.

Bevor er die Kommunikation öffnete, folgte er dem Protokoll und machte einen vollständigen Scan des Bereichs. Es macht keinen Sinn, zur Rettung zu fliegen, wenn man direkt in eine Gefahr fliegt und sich auflöst, die ebenfalls gerettet werden muss. Mit seinem MFD, das alles in Ordnung brachte, begrüßte er den Kunden. "Hi, hallo. Ich bin Umar Deluca von In-A-Fix. Du wolltest betankt werden?"

"Das bin ich. Danke, dass du gekommen bist", antwortete der Pilot mit einem freundlichen, verwitterten Lächeln.

"Natürlich sind wir dafür da. Lass mich in Position gehen, und dann können wir dich im Handumdrehen wieder zurückfliegen lassen."

Als Umar sein Schiff über und hinter dem Schiff rollte, konnte er deutlich sehen, dass der Rumpf des Relianten stark beschädigt war. Entlang des gesamten hinteren Rumpfes gab es Verbrennungen und mehrere ballistische Löcher perforierten den Flügel. Umar hatte eine ziemlich gute Ahnung, was den Piloten dazu veranlasste, den Treibstoff zu verlieren.

"Ich bin mir nicht sicher, ob du das weißt, aber deine Backbord-Dorsalseite ist ziemlich ramponiert. Wenn du willst, kann ich dich zusammenflicken, während ich hier draußen bin. Es würde nicht lange dauern und es wäre um einiges sicherer zu fliegen."

"Ich schätze das Angebot, aber die Kreuze sind eng. Nur der Treibstoff für den Moment."

"Sicher. Kein Problem. Bleiben Sie dran und ich schicke die Drohne gleich rüber."

Umar stieg aus dem Pilotsitz und ging zur Kontrollstation auf der Rückseite der Brücke. Er scrollte durch seine Optionen - Speer für das Aufrüsten, Shake für Reparaturen und Liam für das Tanken. Er wählte Liam aus, machte einen letzten Check und sah alles Grün und startete die mit Treibstoff beladene Drohne. Mit geübter Leichtigkeit manövrierte er Liam in Richtung des Treibstoffanschlusses des anderen Schiffes.

"Transfer läuft", informierte Umar den Piloten.

"Hör zu, ich hasse es, das zu fragen, aber es gibt eigentlich noch eine Sache, die du für mich tun könntest", sagte der Pilot und sah schüchtern aus, als er sich nervös den Hinterkopf rieb. "Besteht die Chance, dass du einen Drink oder etwas Wasser hast, das du entbehren kannst? Der Treibstoff war nicht das Einzige, was ich vergessen habe, und ich fange an, mich ziemlich dehydriert zu fühlen."

Umar zögerte, zu antworten. Nicht das Teilen war das Problem, sondern die Zeit. Er hatte gehofft, heute noch mindestens zwei weitere Jobs aufnehmen zu können, und er wusste aus Erfahrung, wie schwer es manchmal sein kann, einen Gast dazu zu bringen, dein Schiff zu verlassen.

"Hör zu, wenn es ein Problem ist, kann ich einfach warten, bis ich selbst zu einem Bahnhof oder so fliegen kann."

Umar spürte einen Anflug von Schuldgefühlen. Was wollte er hier draußen, wenn er den Menschen nicht helfen wollte? "Es ist kein Problem", sagte Umar mit so viel Gastfreundschaft, wie er aufbringen konnte. "Wenn ich dein Schiff voll tanke, kannst du auch noch nachfüllen. Schwing dich rüber und ich mache dich wieder gesund."

Als er Liam verließ, um sein Ding zu tun, öffnete Umar aus der Ferne die hintere Luke des Vulkaniers und ging an der Heckschleuse in den Mannschaftsräumen warten. Es dauerte nicht lange, bis er hörte, wie sich der Druck zu entwickeln begann. Er knackte den Kühlschrank, entfernte zwei kohlensäurehaltige Wasserbehälter und drehte sich um, als die Atmosphäre im Aufzug ausbalancierte.

Umar war ein wenig verblüfft, als sich der Pilot leicht beugte, um zu vermeiden, seinen Kopf zu schlagen, als er herauskam. Der Mann war sehr groß, und ein Helm auf dem Kopf machte ihn nur noch imposanter. Plötzlich fühlten sich die Mannschaftsunterkünfte viel enger an.

"Ich hoffe, du magst Etrog-Geschmack", sagte Umar und bot die Dose an. "Andernfalls fürchte ich, musst du dich mit dem Wasserhahn begnügen."

Der Pilot hat den Drink nicht genommen. Er hat nicht mal seinen Helm abgenommen. "Der Rest deiner Crew ist noch im Cockpit?"

"Nein, ich bin's nur." Umar bedauerte die Worte, sobald sie aus seinem Mund kamen.

Mit einer sanften Bewegung zog der Pilot die Pistole heraus, die er in seinem EVA-Paket versteckt hatte. "Tut mir leid, aber ich brauche dein Schiff."


Umars Handgelenke schmerzten vom Kampf gegen das Band, das ihn an den Steuerstuhl fesselte. Es war für das Abdichten von Rümpfen ausgelegt, so dass es keine große Überraschung war, dass er es nicht lösen konnte, aber er musste es versuchen.

An der Vorderseite der Brücke navigierte der Pilot die Vulkanier aus dem Asteroidenfeld heraus. Das Bedienterminal blinkte und warnte, dass Liam außer Reichweite war.

"Komm schon", flehte Umar an. "Du hättest mich wenigstens meine Drohne holen lassen können."

"Schau, ich würde es vorziehen, dich nicht würgen zu müssen", sagte der Pilot. "Ich weiß, wie unangenehm es sein kann."

"Fick dich. Tu nicht so, als wärst du ein anständiger Kerl, nur weil du Manieren hast. Du hast nicht nur mein Schiff gestohlen, sondern auch so getan, als wärst du in Schwierigkeiten, es zu tun. Ich habe versucht, dir zu helfen, und so dankst du mir?"

Der Pilot hat nichts gesagt, nur seine Aufmerksamkeit auf der Navigationskarte behalten.

"Weißt du, jedes Mal, wenn ein Arschloch wie du einen Stunt wie diesen abzieht, macht es es es für echte Leute in Schwierigkeiten umso schwieriger, die Hilfe zu bekommen, die sie brauchen. Wer wird anhalten und helfen, wenn es eine mehr als anständige Chance gibt, dass sie eine Kugel für ihre Probleme bekommen? Also ja, fick dich doppelt." Genau wie seine Kämpfe gegen das Band erwartete Umar nicht wirklich, dass sein Gerede der Situation helfen würde, aber es gab ihm definitiv ein besseres Gefühl.

Überraschenderweise antwortete der Pilot jedoch. "Ich stehle nicht dein Schiff. Sobald ich da bin, wo ich hingehe, kannst du es wiederhaben."

"Oh, in diesem Fall, lasst uns ein paar Melodien drehen und die Fahrt genießen", sagte Umar höhnisch, als ihm ein plötzlicher Gedanke kam. "Warte. Was zum Teufel war mit deinem Schiff los?"

"Sie kannten meinen Regtag."

"Wer ist das?"

Keine Antwort. Stattdessen beendete der Pilot die Aufzeichnung eines Kurses auf dem Navigationsgerät und spulte den Quantenantrieb. Bunte Lichter zogen vorbei, als die Vulkanier nach vorne schossen. In der Ferne konnte Umar Pox sehen, den letzten Planeten im System, der ständig größer wurde. Umar hatte gehofft, dass sie nach Carteyna fahren würden, wo es mehr Chancen gegeben hätte, auf einige Behörden zu treffen, aber hier draußen in den Weiten waren die Chancen, auf ein anderes Schiff zu treffen, viel geringer.

"Du weißt, dass du hättest einfach um eine Mitfahrgelegenheit bitten können", sagte Umar und brach die vorübergehende Stille. "Aber das ist das Problem mit Leuten wie dir, nicht wahr? Nimm dir einfach, was du willst, anstatt es zu verdienen. Willst du wissen, warum ich dieses Gerät fliege? Es ist so, dass ich ein wenig von dem Schaden rückgängig machen kann, den Leute wie du verursachen. Das Universum ist dunkel genug, ohne dass wir uns gegenseitig verletzen müssen."

Die Quantenlichter verblassten und der Pilot schob seinen Stuhl zurück und stand auf. Er ging an seinem Gefangenen vorbei und ging hinunter in das Heck des Schiffes.

"Wohin gehst du?" fragte Umar.

"Um den Knebel zu bekommen."

Bevor Umar reagieren konnte, ertönte ein schriller Alarm.

"Was zum Teufel ist das?", verlangte der Pilot und sprang die Treppe hinauf.

" ECN-Alarm". Umar blickte auf die Popup-Benachrichtigung auf seinem Terminal hinunter. "Das nahe gelegene Schiff sprang ein Kernleck in ihrem Kraftwerk. Sie werden nicht mehr lange brauchen."

Der Pilot hat auf die Bedienelemente getippt und die Benachrichtigung zum Schweigen gebracht. "Arme Bastarde. Das ist ein schwieriger Weg."

"Wir müssen ihnen helfen."

"Ich fange wirklich an zu denken, dass du diese ganze entführte Sache nicht verstehst."

"Wenn wir ihnen jetzt nicht helfen, werden sie sterben."

"Und das ist schrecklich, aber es ist nicht mein Problem."

"Natürlich ist es dein verdammtes Problem. Du hast den Alarm gehört. Ihr Kraftwerk ist überlastet und wenn die Strahlung sie nicht frittiert, wird die Explosion es tun. Du ignorierst es, du bringst sie um. So einfach ist das."

"Und wenn es irgendwelche Sicherheitsleute in der Gegend gibt und sie auftauchen, um zu helfen, dann bin ich auch so gut wie tot."

"Weißt du, wo wir sind? Es ist ein Wunder, dass wir sogar den Alarm gehört haben. Wir sind es. Wir sind ihre einzige Hoffnung in diesem Universum. Verstehst du das nicht?" Ungebetene Tränen strömten in Umars Augen. " Bitte."

Der Pilot starrte seinen Gefangenen für einen langen Moment an.

"Wenn du ein Wort über mich sagst oder versuchst, sie in irgendeiner Weise zu signalisieren, gehst du aus der Luftschleuse. Keine zweiten Chancen. Verstanden?"

Umar wagte es nicht, etwas zu sagen und riskierte, dass der Pilot seine Meinung änderte, und nickte schnell und nachdrücklich seine Zustimmung.

"Ich kann nicht glauben, dass ich das tue."

Der Pilot setzte sich zurück und passte den Kurs des Vulcan auf das Signal des Bakens an. Als er den Quantenantrieb wieder hochdrehte, schüttelte er ungläubig den Kopf: "Ich meine, schau, wie gut es ist, anzuhalten, um jemandem zu helfen, der für dich trainiert hat."

WIRD FORTGESETZT
“All right, Jess. I’m heading there now.” With a flick, Umar closed the comm channel. Break time over. Swinging his feet out of the bunk, a swarm of sandwich crumbs cascaded off his chest and onto the bed. He really should start eating at the table again. At least his bad habit of wearing his boots to bed made sense. After working for In-A-Fix Assistance for the past six years he had learned that comms for help always happen about five minutes into a nap.

Leaving the crew quarters, Umar performed a quick a visual inspection on the three BARD drones nestled into the mid-ship docking ports. Charged and not leaking? Check and check. Skipping over the empty fourth port, he gave his favorite drone, Spear, a traditional pat for luck before heading up to the bridge.

Umar adjusted his settings as he sat down in the pilot seat, transitioning the power he had routed to the shields for nap-time back to the engines. With a growl, the thrusters came back online. He keyed the coordinates Jess had sent over into his navigation, swung the Vulcan’s nose around and initiated quantum to the nearside of Cano’s asteroid belt.

Under two minutes, Umar noted as the light smears from the quantum field streaked past. Not too shabby of a response time. While you could always count on life’s ill fortune sending clients your way, providing good service was how you could convert a random refuel run into a potential repeat customer. Especially out in Cano where traffic was a bit sparse.

The ship slowed out of QT and Umar adjusted his flight path towards the beacon’s origin on the rim of the belt. After a few moments of navigating through the field, he spotted the client’s Reliant clinging near the underside of one of the asteroids. He might have missed it completely if he hadn’t had the beacon frequency. Its signature was low enough that the small craft almost blended seamlessly into the surrounding radiation. Pilot must have shut down everything to conserve energy once they ran out of fuel.

Before opening comms, he followed protocol and did a full scan of the area. No point in flying to the rescue if you fly straight into a threat and wind up needing rescuing too. With his MFD giving the all clear, he hailed the client. “Hi, there. I’m Umar Deluca from In-A-Fix. You requested a refueling?”

“That’s me. Thanks for coming out,” responded the pilot, with a kind, weathered smile.

“Of course, that’s what we’re here for. Let me get into position, and then we can have you back flying in no time.”

As Umar rolled his ship above and behind the vessel, he could clearly see that the Reliant’s hull had been badly damaged. There were scorch marks all along the rear fuselage and multiple ballistic holes perforated the wing. Umar had a pretty good guess what caused the pilot to run out of fuel.

“Not sure if you know this but your port dorsal side is pretty banged up. If you want, I could patch you up while I’m out here. Wouldn’t take long and it’d be heck of a lot safer to fly.”

“Appreciate the offer, but creds are tight. Just the fuel for now.”

“Sure. No problem. Stand by and I’ll have the drone right over.”

Umar got out of the pilot seat and went to the control station at the rear of the bridge. He scrolled through his options — Spear for rearming, Shake for repairs, and Liam for refueling. Selecting Liam, he did one last check, and seeing all green, launched the fuel-laden drone. With practiced ease, he maneuvered Liam towards the other vessel’s fuel port.

“Transfer in progress,” Umar informed the pilot.

“Listen, I hate to ask this, but there is actually one more thing you could do for me,” said the pilot, looking bashful as he nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Any chance you have a drink or some water you could spare? Fuel wasn’t the only thing I forgot to stock up on and I’m starting to feel pretty dehydrated.”

Umar hesitated in answering. It wasn’t the sharing that was the issue, but the time. He had hoped to be able to pick up at least two more jobs today and he knew from experience how hard it could sometimes be getting a guest to leave your ship.

“Listen, if it’s a problem, I can just wait till I can fly myself to a station or something.”

Umar felt a twinge of guilt. What was he doing out here if he wasn’t going to help people? “It’s no problem,” Umar said with as much hospitality as he could muster. “If I’m filling up your ship, might as well top you off too. Swing on over and I’ll fix you up.”

Leaving Liam to do its thing, Umar remotely opened the Vulcan’s rear hatch and went to wait by the liftlock in the crew quarters. It wasn’t too long before he heard the pressure begin to cycle. He cracked the fridge, removed two fizzy water cans, and turned just as the atmosphere in the lift equalized.

Umar was a bit taken aback when the pilot bent slightly to avoid hitting his head as he stepped out. The man was very tall, and having a helmet on only made him more imposing. Suddenly, the crew quarters felt a lot more cramped.

“Hope you like etrog flavor,” said Umar, offering the can. “Otherwise I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with tap.”

The pilot didn’t take the drink. Didn’t even take off his helmet. “The rest of your crew still up in the cockpit?”

“No, it’s just me.” Umar regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

With a smooth motion, the pilot pulled out the pistol he had hidden in his EVA pack. “Sorry about this, but I need your ship.”


Umar’s wrists were aching from struggling against the tape that bound him to the control terminal chair. It was rated for sealing hulls so it wasn’t a huge surprise that he hadn’t been able to loosen it, but he had to try.

At the front of the bridge, the pilot was navigating the Vulcan out of the asteroid field. The control terminal flashed a warning that Liam was moving out of range.

“Come on,” implored Umar. “You could have at least let me get my drone.”

“Look, I’d prefer not to have to gag you,” said the pilot. “I know how uncomfortable it can be.”

“Screw you. Don’t pretend like you’re some decent guy just because you have manners. Not only did you steal my ship, but you pretended to be in trouble to do it. I tried to help you and this is how you thank me?”

The pilot didn’t say anything, just kept his attention on the nav map.

“You know, every time an asshole like you pulls a stunt like this it just makes it that much harder for real folks in trouble to get the help they need. Who’s gonna stop and lend a hand if there’s a more than decent chance they’re gonna get a bullet for their troubles? So yeah, double screw you.” Just like his struggles against the tape, Umar didn’t really expect his rant to help the situation, but it definitely made him feel better.

Surprisingly though, the pilot responded. “I’m not stealing your ship. As soon as I get where I’m going, you can have it back.”

“Oh, in that case, let’s crank some tunes and enjoy the ride,” said Umar with a sneer when a sudden thought occurred to him. “Wait. What the hell was wrong with your ship?”

“They knew my regtag.”

“Who’s they?”

No response. Instead, the pilot finished plotting a course on the nav, and spooled the quantum drive. Colorful lights streaked past as the Vulcan surged forward. In the distance, Umar could see Pox, the last planet in the system, steadily growing larger. Umar had been hoping that they would head towards Carteyna where there would have been more of a chance of running into some authorities, but out here in the far reaches the chances of running into another ship were far slimmer.

“You know you could have just asked for a ride,” said Umar, breaking the temporary silence. “But that’s the problem with people like you, isn’t it? Just take what you want rather than earn it. You wanna know why I fly this rig? It’s so I can undo a little bit of the damage that people like you create. The universe is dark enough without us having to hurt each other.”

The quantum lights faded and the pilot pushed back his chair and stood. Walking past his captive, he headed down into the rear of the ship.

“Where you going?” asked Umar.

“To get the gag.”

Before Umar could respond, a shrill alarm sounded.

“What the hell is that?” the pilot demanded, leaping back up the stairs.

“ECN alert.” Umar looked down at the pop-up notification on his terminal. “Nearby ship sprung a core leak in their power plant. They’re not gonna have long.”

The pilot tapped the controls, silencing the notification. “Poor bastards. That’s a tough way to go.”

“We have to go help them.”

“I’m really starting to think you don’t understand this whole kidnapped thing.”

“If we don’t help them now, they’re going to die.”

“And that’s terrible, but it’s not my problem.”

“Of course it’s your damn problem. You heard the alert. Their power plant is overloading and if the radiation doesn’t fry them, the explosion will. You ignore it, you’re killing them. That simple.”

“And if there’s any security in the area and they show up to help, then I’m as good as dead too.”

“Do you know where we are? It’s a miracle we even heard the alert. We are it. We are their only hope in this universe. Don’t you get that?” Unbidden, tears welled up in Umar’s eyes. “Please.”

The pilot stared at his captive for a long moment.

“If you say one word about me, or try to signal them in any way, you’re going out the airlock. No second chances. Understood?”

Not daring to say anything and risk the pilot changing his mind, Umar quickly and emphatically nodded his agreement.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this.”

The pilot sat back down and adjusted the Vulcan’s course towards the beacon’s signal. As he spun the quantum drive back up, he shook his head in disbelief, “I mean, look how well stopping to help someone worked out for you.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Links

No links available.

Images

1
image/jpeg
OneGoodDeed.jpg
Details
Last Modified
8 years ago
Size
4.20 MB

Metadata

CIG ID
16465
Channel
Undefined
Category
Undefined
Series
One Good Deed
Comments
29
Published
8 years ago (2018-03-21T00:00:00+00:00)