The Optimum Project: Revised Edition

Chapter 2

Home Away from No-Home

The Depro Laterian Skyport had once been a beautifully maintained building, one in which every visiting ship would gladly dock at to begin trading goods, where foreign dignitaries from dozens of other planets and races could be seen regularly, and the technology that the Skyport utilized and housed during trades was cutting edge.

At least that's what my dad had told me it was like before they built a new one on the other side of the city, now the once bustling pyramid that housed so many people and cargo was barren, operated by a skeleton crew and in such disrepair it was a surprise it was even allowed to continue operating. I walked through the automatic doors and into the lobby, like the rest of the building it was clear that it had once been a lavishing place, but the once white marble floor was now faded with grime and dust, the secretary's desk was abandoned, the walls barren except for the mold that seeped its way down from the ceiling.

I walked through the maze of halls, past doors that lead to empty rooms and corridors draped in darkness. I knew the only reason my father docked here was that it was cheap, but you'd have thought he might have wanted something... better maintained.

I wound my way up the stairs and towards the main hangar bay, there were only three ships in the bay tonight but their crews usually ignored me so I tended to return the sentiment. I walked in, my footsteps echoing inside the massive space as I walked across the bay and up the open ramp and into the Selena.

The Selena itself was a Giga-class 450-foot long cargo hauler, and to the outside observer, it was reaching the end of its lifespan. Large sections of her soft blue paint job were scraped away from close encounters with rogue debris and laser damage, and along with the missing paint, some areas were patched up with a quilted network of scrap metal and salvaged ship armor welded into place.

Most of the outer hull was composed of six cargo containers, three on each side and about 100 feet wide, and were used to hold any cargo my father fancied to carry, from small packages to fair sized cars and trucks. Each container was mounted to the main body of the ship with large hydraulic clamps, which allowed for the Selena to jettison them if the need arose. The only way to access the containers was from the outside; through blast doors that were also hydraulicly sealed.

In gold lettering near the cockpit was her name, clearly painted in cursive and coated in heat shielding paint so it wouldn't burn off during atmospheric re-entry. It was definitely my father's ship, and I doubted he would ever willingly let it go.

I, on the other hand, wouldn't have minded an upgrade.

Walking down the long and narrow hall, I went directly into the much more spacious cockpit, which was really just a large room with forward facing windows. I noted that my father was distinctly absent and then shrugged, if he's not leveraging a trade deal then he's probably got a lady on his arm, either way, he wouldn't want me interrupting.

I sighed to no one in particular and then slid under the navigational counsel, pulling out my multi-tool and using the screwdriver attachment to loosen the screws on the main board housing. Okay, let's see what kind of damage my father did this time.

I pulled off the covering that shielded and insulated the computer from the rest of the room and examined the board, luckily it was still useable. Because the last thing I need is to go back to the part shop and get a new board. Unlike the processing chips they utilized, each board was hard-coded to the specifications of the ship, if I'd have needed to get a new one it could have cost a pretty penny.

I carefully disconnected the fried processing chip, having to wiggle it a bit to get the parts of plastic that fused to the mount to release their hold. I then cleaned the connection of any chard or melted plastics and silicone and placed the new chip in the old one's stead. Then I simply put the board back in its place and screwed the insulator back over it. I slid myself out from under the console and checked the power...nothing? I frowned, must have tripped a fuse too...

I walked back out into the hall and crouched down in front of the main breaker hatch of the Selena, twisting the handle to disengage the lock before pulling up on it, as if I was trying to open a can of soup. When I finally heaved up the hatch and got it out of the way, I set it down with a heavy THUNK and began checking the breakers. Let's see here...Galley, Hallway, Crew Quarters, Exterior Lights, Cockpit-FlightControls, Cockpit-Lights... Here it is, Cockpit-Navigational. I flipped the switch from it's tripped position to 'off' before flipping it back to 'on' again.

I sat up and put the breaker-hatch back into place, making sure it was secured before heading back to the cockpit to check my handy-work. I walked over to the console and pressed the 'Power' button, feeling a sense of pride as the splash screen for the nav program and boot up displayed, then it began downloading positional data so it could get a lock on where we were. I left it running as I stepped back out into the hallway; every time my father fried a chip it'd spend a few hours updating and calibrating our position; if it didn't we could go flying directly into a planet at faster than the speed of light.

Satisfied I'd done my job, I walked back down the narrow main corridor, down a set of side stairs, and into the crew hall, a small section of the ship that held four extra rooms for a crew. Two of these rooms currently had crates strapped in place along the walls and floor, keeping things from shifting around during takeoffs, landings, and hyperspace jumps. The third room held a workshop, boasting various parts and tools, all of which were there with the express purpose of helping me keep the Selena running. While finally, the fourth room was mine, I slept there, tinkered there, ate there, I well...lived there. It was my sanctuary, my sacred place.

I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling, my room was the largest of the four, originally meant for ship security due to the gun rack built into one wall, which I converted into an enclosed work desk back when I first got the room. The bed was mounted a few feet above the floor on one wall. Multiple crates full of some of my miscellaneous projects were stored under my bed, which a cargo net kept from sliding around my room. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. I let out a content sigh as my eyelids drooped shut, I could use the nap...