The Captain: A Dark Space Opera Adventure

2. The Crew

Den woke to early morning sunlight beating down on his eyelids. He rolled over and groaned as everything came rushing back to him. What had he got himself into? Sliding off the bed, he began pulling on his clothes. What was Stella going to say when she saw him?

Stepping into the hallway, he looked up and down. Light poured in through the window by the stairs, but other than that nothing had changed. All the doors were closed. Carefully pulling his shut behind him, he silently padded down the stairs. It was time to find out a little bit more about his apparent employer.

Adrenaline pushed the last vestiges of sleep away. Who was Stella really? How did someone her age happen to own a starship like the Night Lady? He stopped at the ground floor and opened the first door he came to. His thoughts were interrupted as a pair of handles fell outwards, bouncing off the ground with a loud bang.

"Burn me," he cursed, staring at the dusty array of cleaning equipment and garbage stuffed into the tiny closet. Did Stella not have enough money to pay a janitor? Picking up the broom and mop, he stuffed them back in and shut the door. When the door was closed, he leaned against it, catching his breath and slowing the beating of his heart.

Calm down Den, he told himself, you work here now, it's not like you're doing anything wrong. He kept walking and stopped at the room Stella had been drinking in. The night before he hadn't had a chance to look around so he let his eyes sweep over it carefully.

It was a living room of sorts, the furnishings were a motley array of couches, tilting coffee tables, and two old armchairs that were leaking stuffing onto the floor. Plus, an actual fireplace that dominated the wall across from him. He wondered what they burned in it because wood could not be cheap enough to burn on Rocquamport. His eyes continued over the oddity and he took in the old beer stains on the walls, broken glass, and cigarette butts. The place was a dump.

Turning around in disgust, he stopped in surprise when he saw a gleaming bar behind him. A hiss broke into his thoughts and his eyes focused on a man standing over a stove behind the bar. The man's back was to him, but Den could smell that he was cooking breakfast.

"You the new hire?" said the man without turning.

Den started, the sudden words breaking the early morning clarity of his thoughts.

Disappointment filled him as reality set in, "Yes, I'm Denis, I mean Den," he answered, grabbing one of the stools in front of the bar.

"Ehh." The man didn't turn, but his hands moved across over the stove as he flipped eggs and roasted bacon.

"You meet Stella?"

"Kind of."

"She in one of her moods?"

If you mean drunk out of her kriffing mind? "Yeah, I guess," he answered.

"Don't worry about her yet. What did she hire you for?"

"I'm a hacker."

"You any good?" The man produced a plate from one of the shelves and flicked a pile of eggs onto it.

"I make a living."

"Could be useful."

"So, you must be Akatski. Tan told me about you."

The man nodded and thrust the plate at him. "That's me."

Den was just reaching for the plate when he heard footsteps at the door.

"Kriffing hell, I thought I told you to leave!"

Den nearly dropped his plate as Stella slid onto the stool beside him. To his surprise, she looked decent for someone who had been so drunk the night before. Her eyes were a little puffy, but other than that, she looked no worse for wear. He re-evaluated his earlier estimation of her. She carried herself like she was much older, but he doubted she was any older than him, probably younger.