Val stood outside the landing pad and stared up at the looming, dilapidated Komodo-class medium transport. The air around the large vessel shimmered in the bright light of Lux that battered down on Eavesdown Docks like a hammer. This was the summer season for Persephone, where the distant White Sun joined with Lux to bake the surface of the planet. She noted absentmindedly that even the vendors felt the oppressiveness of the heat. Their calls were far more lackadaisical than any other time in the past month she'd been prowling the Docks, looking for work. Desperate for someone, anyone, to give her a chance.
Now, however, her prayers had been answered. The Ferryman might not look like much, but it was a pearl among the other ships in her eyes. Finally, I can get off of this gorram planet, she thought to herself with satisfaction.
The petite brunette took a minute to adjust her green silk Mandarin-style tunic. She pulled at it briefly to let her skin breathe, thankful that she was so under-endowed as to not require a bra. Val glanced at her black trousers worriedly, hoping that her clothing wouldn't mark her as a stuck-up Core-bred woman. She crinkled her nose, narrowing her eyes that betrayed a hint of her Asian ancestry. They can take me as I am. I'm done with that life.
Straightening her spine, Val strode forward to the lowered ramp of the converted Independent resupply and repair ship. As soon as she set foot on the ramp, she heard the clearing of a throat from above. Glancing up, she noted a figure reclining against the support strut.
"Somethin' I c'n help ya with, ma'am?" a male voice inquired politely.
"Yes, please. My name is Valerie Zhihou, I was hired by Captain Markum."
"Oh, so yer the new pilot, eh?" The figure stepped forward into the light. He was fairly good-looking, for a man at least, with chiseled features and a tousled mop of black hair. He was wearing the typical spacer garb of tan coveralls and sensible boots. She grimaced inwardly, knowing he'd already noticed her highly impractical slippers. "My name's Billy, I'm first mate an' co-pilot," he continued. "I'll be training ya. Come on up, Valerie, an' I'll get ya situated in yer bunk."
"Thank you, Billy. And please, call me Val."
He stayed put as she continued up the ramp. "No baggage?" he asked curiously.
She shook her head. "No, I'm just travelling with the contents of my purse."
Billy shrugged unconcernedly and motioned for her to follow him on in.
Val noted that her bunk was likely the smallest aboard ship, as she was the newest and most junior of the established crew. Still, she thought she'd seen commodes larger than the room Billy had shown her to. There was enough room for a narrow bed and for her to make use of the combined toilet and sink unit, but little else. No desk or wardrobe or even a dresser of any sort. Though she sighed inwardly, she refused to let any of her misgivings show externally. This is my new life. I may as well get used to it.
Billy left her to get settled in, what little there was to settle, and informed her that the next meal would be within the hour. He'd call on her again then, show her around the ship, and then introduce her to the other six members of the crew. When he had closed the hatch behind him, Val sank onto the stiff mattress dejectedly. I can do this, she thought with far more determination than she actually felt. I can make it out here. I know how to fly, I just need to show them my skills, get time here and experience, and then push on. Make my way in the 'Verse. I can do this. She repeated the mantra to herself until Billy came by to pick her up again.
She walked next to the career spacer and took note of the layout of the bulky ship. Most sections were where she expected them to be, cargo in the bottom, engine room to the rear, bridge forward and up a level. The common area was located right behind the bridge, with plenty of room for the large dining table as well as several smaller tables for games and such.
The petite brunette could hear the commotion from ahead as they mounted the stairs. It cut off as if a switch had been thrown once Billy and she walked into the area.
"Capt'n, this here's Val, yer new pilot," Billy said respectfully, motioning towards the man standing at the fore of his crew. Captain Markum was a tall and imposing man, his grey hair and beard neatly trimmed and his coveralls clean and crisp. He smiled and walked over to shake Val's hand.
"Val, pleasure to meet you in person," he began with a crisp Core accent. "I'm glad you took me up on my offer."
"Please, Captain, the pleasure is mine," Val smiled demurely. "I'm very grateful you have taken a chance with me. I promise you will not regret it."
Markum smiled back and turned to introduce her to the other five members of the crew. There was Roberta, the navigator, a small and swarthy woman with a raven-haired pixie cut who looked to be from Santos, the chief mechanic Peter, a lanky middle-aged and balding man who smiled a smarmy greeting that she assumed he'd practiced on many women before, and another woman, Isabelle, who had fair skin and a luxurious mane of black hair. She was the Captain's wife and the ship's cargomaster. Sitting at one of the card tables was the main pilot, a short skinny man with a bright shock of red hair he called Shawn, who merely nodded brusquely towards her before going back to the Chinese Checkers game he was playing with Roberta.
And then finally there was the assistant mechanic, a blonde with short and spiky hair lounging against the bulkhead and watching the rest of the crew with amusement. Val dimly registered that the Captain called her Sam. Short for Samantha, perhaps? Whereas the rest of the crew wore coveralls, Sam had cargoes and a tight white tank top on which revealed her toned arms and flat stomach.
Val tried very hard not to ogle the gorgeous woman, but she had a feeling she'd given herself away by virtue of the slight smirk on the blonde's face. Or, maybe she's checking me out as well? She glanced over her shoulder as she took a seat at the table that was indicated to her by Markum, and sure enough her bright blue eyes were fixated on her. A blonde. Of course it had to be a blonde. She sighed to herself resignedly. I rutting love blondes.
While she tried very hard to steer her thoughts towards a professional line of thinking as she got to know her new crew, a little part of her wondered if perhaps this job might not be a little more fun than she'd anticipated.
NOTES: So, this is something a little new. My previous story, Nothing In The 'Verse, was long and episodic. This will be a much shorter story, broken up into simple chapters. I hope to bang this out over the next week or so. Hope you enjoy!