A Wrench

1: Taxi Service

"Dad?"

Your heart is beating fast as you answer the holocall. Your father doesn't ever call you when he's out on jobs, only when he's on his way home. But he can't be on his way home now, he left with four fobs only a day ago. Dad's face appears in the projection, lined with stress, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.

"Hey, kid. Don't be alarmed, I'm not in danger..." he rolls his eyes.

You let out your breath in a whoosh, your shoulders sinking with relief.

"...But I kind of need your help."

You frown. "My help?"

You hear a loud kerplunk in the background, and watch your father's eyes move away from yours.

"Dad, what's going on?"

He makes a frustrated face that you almost coil away from. "Old Bertha got in the crossfire."

Your whole body relaxes now that you know he's perfectly fine himself. "What happened to the ship?"

"I can fix it...but I'm on a shit hole planet. In fact, I might be the only person with a ship in this entire hemisphere."

"If the planet is primitive, what did it get in the crossfire of? Dad, what's going on?" he always skirts around the issue when he makes mistakes, he gets angry instead. Something that annoys you to no end, though you can't say anything to him about it.

His camera pans out to the landscape beyond the ship. You gasp at the sight. The planet he's on looks like grassland, only a few pitiful looking trees. But in the distance are giant animals with bone colored horns sticking out of their cheeks. They're all ramming into each other, stabbing horns and spurting red blood over their tan bodies.

"A stampede?" you breathe.

The camera turns back to your father, defeat evident on his face. "Yes. I need parts to fix the ship so I can get off this dumb planet."

"Umm..." you ponder. "What do I do?"

"Well...Karga owes me a favor. Maybe he can hook you up with a ride?"

"I've never met Karga."

His voice grows hard at your hesitation. "He should at least see you once he hears your family name. Just go to the cantina after work hours, that way he knows it's not business and he'll be more likely to see you."

Your heart starts beating fast. "The cantina that gets shot up once a month?"

He chuckles darkly, his tone condescending. "Kid, you're a better shot than those bozos. And that's saying something."

"Oh, shut up!" You pause for a moment, taking a stabilizing breath. Your father needs you, no time to be a pussy. "Okay, Dad. Just send me a list of parts. And what Karga looks like...I don't want to have to talk to more people than necessary."

"I'll get on it." he gives himself a superior little chuckle, "If you don't hear from me within an hour, it means I've been trampled."

"That's not funny." You whimper.

His laugh gets louder. "Alright, I'll be in touch. Love you."

"Love you too."

You jump out of your desk chair as soon as he hangs up. Rushing around your room, you pack a small bag of toiletries and fresh bra and panties, then head to the kitchen, washing dishes at a furious pace. If dad comes home and sees you haven't kept up the house, he'll be pissed. It's not that you're lazy, you just spend so much time cleaning at work, you hate doing it at home.