Six months ago:

Alaine looked across at Engle "Uh, why exactly do we have to hold hands here, Sir?"
"Watch it darling. Local mores. While we are here, in public, we are married, OK?"
"OK, ah .. dear."
"Better."
"Is that why the rest of the crew?"
"Stayed at the last planet. Yes."
That last was a blatant lie, the rest of the crew, including the Captain, were still aboard, and monitoring their progress via encrypted radio bugs.
Engle continued "If we were on one of the other continents, we would not be having any issues, but only this place has the tech to run a starport."
"So they have a monopoly on interstellar trade?"
"Right in one. Makes the politics here tricky, and makes profit here a bit tight. Some of their biologicals command a good price elsewhere, though. Especially the fruits. The gourmet markets go nuts for them."
"So what sorts of things do they want here?"
"If you really want to make a killing, weapons and vehicles. Ship policy says no to them."
"If they already have the interstellar trade monopoly..."
"Exactly. Now, game face on k..my little prince. We've got some fossil woods to move. The artists here love the stuff."
"Yes dear."

----

It had been a gruelling three days on planet, and Alaine was exhausted. But he was back on board now.
"Uh, Captain?"
"Yeah, kid? What's on your mind?"
"We've got on-board fuel processors, so any fresh water would do for filling our tanks here."
"So why did we land here at the starport, in the middle of a downright psycho country?"
"Yes."
"Good question" the Captain grinned "I was hoping you'd ask."
Alaine smiled to himself - he'd asked the right question for once!
The Captain went on "If I thought we could get away with it, we would land just about anywhere else. But these people have orbital capabilities, and they have primitive nukes. If we landed somewhere else, we could start a war."
"So they get to profit from that?"
"Sadly, yes."
"Captain, sometimes this sucks."
"Yes, it does. But we cannot interfere. If we did we'd have the Patrol, or the Scouts, or someone worse leaping down our throats. Not to mention the Trade Board."
"So we never sell military tech?"
"Can't say never, but we have to be pretty careful about it. Unified planetary government is a requirement. And then things get complicated. System reputation, all sorts of things. But we've carried a cargo of ship's missiles for a system that was restocking after dealing with a bunch of raiders."

Alaine looked thoughtful "That makes sense."
"Now, what if they were lying about the raiders? What if they were arming a raider fleet of their own?"
Alaine now looked horrified "Ma'am?"
"That is why you look into reputations. Study history. Now, read up on our next port. Tell me what you think in the morning."
"Yes Captain!"

#SF #SFF #SciFi #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #ShamanScout #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace

You know how it is, you think you are done with a story, and all of a sudden you discover that someone else wants to step up. And you have no idea where they came from.

Say 'Hi' to Alaine Haughton, son of the owner of a starship yard, and brother to several sisters (at least) - one of whom is called Marvella.

He is a lowly space hand on a small tramp trader called Athena.

And this all ties in with #ScoutAndShaman and #ShamanScout. So now I also have #ShamanSpace on the boil.

#WritingLife #IAmWriting

Now:
Alaine made his way back to the engine room. Inside Sparks (he had no idea what her name actually was - even her ID pass for planet-side just said "Sparks") looked up from the fusion reactor control panel. "What did Cap say?" she asked over the suit radio.
"She said to do what you can, and I'm to help out."
"Have a look at reactors two and four. See if you can get enough parts from the control circuits to get one of them going. I'll keep hammering at number one. But kid - if you hear a proximity alarm, get out. They'll be gunning for the engine room again, and if we're in here, we are gone."
"OK."

He started looking at the control unit of reactor two where the shrapnel from the missile hit had ripped apart the circuits. He tried to ignore the gaping hole in the hull, and the empty space beyond. It looked like there were a couple of undamaged boards, so he pulled them. The main board was mangled, so this reactor was a wash.

He moved over to reactor four. It looked like only one board was dead here. And it matched one from what he pulled from two. He swapped it out, and started the diagnostics. Damn. He needed to reset the serial numbers. As he worked he thought about the drives.

"Hey Sparks?"
"Yeah kid?"
"I think I can get number four running."
"Good work."
"Um, have you thought about running a data link from the controls of drive one to the controller of drive two?"
"Nice thought, but we ain't got a drive data link cable long enough."
"Have we got a pair of diagnostic cables?" Alaine asked.
"Yeah, what of it?"
"You can fake a data link cable with a pair of diagnostics. You just need to splice them."
"You ever done that, kid?"
"No, but I saw a couple of guys in one of the yards back home do it to get a hulk across the yard. They got super chewed out for it."
"Get four running first."
"On it."

A few minutes later, Sparks tongued her transmitter again, "Hey kid, you heard turret one fire again?"
"Uh, no. Maybe the pirates are busy with the patrol ship."
"What patrol ship?"
"Oh, right, the one that I heard hail us and then open fire on the pirates. Just as I was leaving the bridge."
"Kid, you bulling me?"
"No Ma'am! Some ship called 'Findottire' I think."
"I thought the Cap said this was an uninhabited system?"
"I thought so, too."

Another twenty minutes passed, and through the hole in the side of the engine room, Alaine saw tiny pinprick flashes of missiles being picked off by point defense systems. Then his faceplate went black, and faded back to clear.

"Kid you OK?" Sparks sounded frantic.
"Yes, faceplate blacked out. I'm OK. I think that was the pirate ship going up."
"We're both going to have to get checked for exposure. I've only seen flashes like that back when I was in the military. That was a nuke going off."
"I don't think we need to worry about the pirates anymore, Ma'am."

#SF #SFF #SciFi #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #ShamanScout #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace

One and a half years ago:

Alaine sat in his bedroom, and looked over the papers the school councillor had given him. What did he want his future to look like?

His parents wanted him to sign up with the family business, running the planet's largest shipyard. But his sisters had that in hand. And Marvella was the obvious choice for taking over when his dad retired.

No, he wanted something on the ships that his family built. Something where he could have the chance to make his own name. He signed the papers for the trade ship pool. The small independent traders were always recruiting new crew, and he had good scores in mathematics, decent muscles, and a good work ethic.

----

One year ago:
"I'm Captain Guernsey. You are Alaine Haughton?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"You sure you want to sign on a little ship like the Athena? You come from a wealthy family."
"Yes, Ma'am. I want to make my own name. Not just be a cog in my family."
The Captain grunted, then got up, "Come on! Get a move on!" she called out as she all but ran towards the dock. Alaine had to jog to keep up, even though the Captain was a full head shorter than him.
As they moved swiftly through the starport, the Captain continued "We need a general space hand for now, so that's what you'll be doing. A bit of everything. You'll report to the First Mate, Engle. He'll assign you your duties. There are only eight of us in the crew. If you fit, I'll write you a good reference at the end of the contract. Maybe even offer you a chance to stay on - if you're good enough."
"Thank you Ma'am."
"Just call me Captain."
"Yes Ma.. I mean Captain."

They approached a small ship - maybe four times the size of a Scout. Alaine knew his ships, and could tell that it was not a young ship - it was probably sixty or seventy years old, but it looked well maintained.

The Captain looked back, and studied Alaine's face. "Well?"
"She looks like a solid trade ship. You've kept her well, Captain."
"She belonged to my old captain. He signed her over to me when he retired. We're paid out, but ships cost to run, so we can't afford any dead trades. Engle! Get your hairy butt out here, I've a freshie for you to take on."
A slender figure emerged from the cargo ramp "What's that Cap?" he asked.
Guernsey gestured over her shoulder. "Alaine. He's your new space hand."
"Right then. Come on kid, how much do you know about ships?"

Alaine stepped into his new life.

#SF #SFF #SciFi #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #ShamanScout #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace

Alaine pushed off from the engine room hatch, and flew across the cargo hold towards the crew area. He'd not had much experience in zero-g, and missed the hatch at the other end. He did, however, manage to snag one of the tie-downs before he rebounded.

He felt the vibration of the number one turret launching a spread of chaff and pebble canisters. They would burst like shotgun shells in an attempt to distract or intercept incoming missiles. He didn't like the odds.

Reaching the bridge, he cycled through the internal airlock. The bridge crew - captain, navigator, and gunner - looked at him. Everyone appeared much older than earlier that day. Even the navigator, who Alaine knew was only two years older than him seemed aged in the emergency lights. The captain, normally a bundle of energy, looked past retirement.

"Cap? Sparks says the drives are down, and she can only give emergency power. Three of the reactors have scrammed. She might be able to get one back up in an hour."

The captain of the little trader cursed "Damned pirates! OK, we've got about four hours before they can get alongside us to board. Tell Sparks to do whatever she can, and give her what help you can. Go!"

Alaine didn't bother saluting, just turned and hit the airlock button again. As he did so, he heard the radio crackle. This would be the pirates demanding their surrender. As if. They'd never let them live, even if they did surrender.

"Trade ship Athena, Trade ship Athena, we have you on radar and are closing to provide assistance. ETA two hours."

Alaine paused. That did not sound like a pirate ship. That sounded like some sort of in-system patrol. But this system was supposed to be uninhabited. What was going on?

The voice continued, "Unidentified vessel, this is patrol ship Findottire. Stand down and cease fire. Failure to do so will result in your destruction."

As the airlock hatch opened, he heard the gunner call out "Captain, I have multiple launches on radar, but not from the pirate ship - they are from in-system. Trajectory indicates the pirates are the targets. Time to target is thirty minutes."

Maybe they would survive today after all.

#SF #SFF #SciFi #microfic #tootfic #microfiction #ShamanScout #IAmWriting #ShamanSpace