2. Ozadus

“What the fuck,” I mutter beneath my breath.

For such a wealthy Captain, he sure did pick a real beat-down looking garage to fix his ship. I’ve been tracking Captain Derchus for weeks now after the news that he scored big on some serious mineral rights. Since then I’ve been waiting, tailing his ship from port to port for the right opportunity.

I just needed him to pick up a shipment of something, anything, with a high price tag. Then leave his ship alone for at least an hour. And today, finally, the stars have aligned.

I was able to hack the shipping company’s data logs and found he picked up quite the juicy payload this morning. It should still be in the cargo bay. Big, beautiful, unmarked, and untraceable precious gems. All lying in wait for a bigger, better, and smarter man to swoop in and liberate them for his own purposes.

And the man’s crew, such as it is, are still boozing back at the hotel. The moment I saw him board the ship alone and the remaining crew disembark, I knew my opportunity had come. He was taking the ship out for a private joy ride, or personal business. Either way, she was finally going to be empty.

“It’s time,” I whisper to the ship, a grin sliding across my face.

I press my back hard against the alleyway wall, keeping my form in the shadows. My blue skin and dark hair meld perfectly. No one could pick me out even if they were trying. And most don’t try. Most people are happy to walk through their lives with their eyes on the ground, never once thinking someone might easily be able to take everything from them in one simple moment.

That’s one reason I’m so good at what I do. I know where most people are lacking. Their egos don’t let them consider they might have some exploitable weaknesses, so I waltz right in and exploit them.

The bigger reason is that I’m simply better than most people. You have to be pretty clever and strong to make it in this galaxy. There’s no forgiveness for weakness. So I made sure to craft myself into something even stronger than that. I trained my body, honed my muscles and dexterity. I learned every skill I could think of to aid me – hacking, sleight of hand, combat, even multiple languages. And I did it all on my own.

No one has an excuse.

But the fact that this so-called Captain, who couldn’t even hit the broad side of a ship with a plasma rifle, was able to lay claim to something so valuable is proof of an underlying injustice in this society. One that coddles weakness and rewards connections and inherited wealth over skill and merit. One I plan to rectify very soon.

The old man stands hunched over and talks with a little human girl for a moment before handing her his keys.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I sneer to myself. He must be a real moron to trust his ship with a human woman. I thought for sure she was some sort of secretary or indentured servant, but no. She gets a tool from her apron and makes her way to the ship.

Granted, she is pretty. That bright red hair and curvy frame is enticing, to be sure. But a cute face doesn’t fix ships.

She hops onto the ship, then jumps back out immediately while motioning towards her workbench and leaving the door wide open. I watch her tight ass walk away with a silent nod of appreciation. That pretty face just helped me out big time. This would usually be a perfect setup.

The captain, however, stays put. He doesn’t follow her in, nor does he make his way inside the office building where other customers are waiting for their vehicles.

He’s loitering around, pecking at his comm pad and reviewing financial documents in full view of anyone walking by. Ostentatious. And also not ideal. But I highly doubt I’m going to get a better chance.

Those gems are waiting for me, after all.

I stay in the shadows, lurking as close to the building as possible, keeping my steps quiet as a feather. The captain doesn’t budge, giving no sign he’s heard a thing. He’s scrolling through those documents still, and I happen to catch a glimpse of just how much that cargo is worth.

He definitely has this coming.

I give the perimeter one last look and, finding no one in eyesight, make my move.

The power cell in my stun baton died out long ago, but that’s alright. I only need the blunt force of one good smack to get the intended results. The captain goes down easy, literally never knowing what hit him. He starts to fall, but I catch him before he hits the dirt. It’s easy enough to drag his frail old body into the alleyway.

I stow him away near a dumpster, maneuvering a few discarded boxes to really camouflage him in. The Captain won’t come to for some time, and by then it will be far too late. I can already see him running around, screaming and crying for the authorities to do something. They won’t do a damn thing for him, though. Not without a little extra grease in their palms, anyway.

One last scan comes up empty, and I race to the ship. The Emery. It’s painted in big, gold lettering on the side for all the galaxy to see and easily track. If Captain Derchus learns anything from this experience, it should be to have a little more modesty in his dealings. He made it far too easy to trail him these past few weeks. If he piloted a more generic make of ship, without the name blazing down the side, I might have just lost track of him.

I wouldn’t have, though. But maybe he would’ve made it a little challenging at least. And I do miss having a real challenge.

I hop on board and seal the hatch behind me. The keys are waiting in the cockpit. Lesson two, never trust a human with your dearest possessions. Maybe that girl can turn a wrench or wash a window, but she’s obviously too careless to run a real shop.

I power on the ignition, and a shiny, brand new navigation system greets me.

“Welcome aboard, Captain Derchus,” a silky smooth female voice says. I shake my head with a smirk. Of course, he chose that A.I. voice package. The man is truly pathetic all around. “Where will we be heading today?”

I don’t know if he has some sort of voice recognition lock installed. It”s highly unlikely, but I’d rather avoid the hassle, so I simply punch in the coordinates manually.

“Destination set. Your estimated time of arrival is ten days, three hours, and twenty-seven minutes. Confirm?” The big green ‘enter’ button starts flashing. I suppose in case a greenhorn captain forgets how his own control panel works. I push it, and a little jingling sound rings out. “Thank you. Please enjoy your ride.”

The thrusters blast to life, and the ship begins its ascent. On the star chart, the words ”autopilot enabled’ flash every few seconds. The man doesn’t even fly his own ship! And he has the nerve to pretend like he earned the title of captain.

I make a sound of disapproval and scroll through the system options until I find the override.

“Autopilot override initiated. Are you sure you wish to continue?” the computer asks almost condescendingly. Perhaps Derchus deserved such derision, but I know how to pilot a damn ship. I press the button. “The NX-6 piloting and navigation system is not liable for any damage or injury sustained while autopilot is turned off. Are you sure you wish to continue?”

I growl, punching the button with my fist. “Yes!” I yell.

“Manual mode confirmed. Please obey all proper safety regulations and laws while piloting your–”

After a moment, I finally find and shut off the nanny computer. If I wanted a robot to coddle me, I’d marry one of those creepy new android ladies they sell in department stores. A cheap spouse for weak men who can’t handle a real woman.

I take the steering wheel in my hands and lean back in the pilot’s seat as I easily maneuver The Emery over the city, above the clouds, and finally into the inky darkness of space itself.

This is adventure. This is excitement. This, taking what I deserve for being the better man. This is what life is really all about. I can feel the blood pumping through me in time with the ship’s coolant systems. She’s buzzing all around me like she’s just been brought to life for the very first time.

“You’ve been waiting for a man like me, haven’t you?” I ask as I stroke the console. “Don’t worry. We’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

It’s a smooth ride at first. I have to wonder why he had it in the shop in the first place. Nothing sounds out of place in the engine or the reactor.

That is, until I hear a distinct knocking sound. For a moment, I consider turning the girl back on to run a system diagnostic, until I realize the sound isn’t coming from the engine. Nor is it rhythmic or repetitive.

I stand up and walk the length of the ship, trying to source the sound. It leads me to a storage hatch in the ceiling compartment. I can even see it shaking when the noise occurs. I can also hear what sounds like muffled cursing.

A stowaway. Oh, this should be wonderful. I grab my baton and smile as I pull the release lever on the hatch when suddenly, a blur of red hair and blue overalls falls down at my feet.

“Great,” I hiss in annoyance. The mechanic accidentally hitched a ride with me. As she regains her bearings and sputters out some sad nonsense, I turn to walk back to the cockpit.

I don’t have time to babysit.