Light Without
Chapter 1
By Mark J. Silva Jr.
Cyrannus star system: Fourth plant from the binary suns Thantos.
Marx walked through the ship yard. It sucks being broke and having nothing to do. But Marx did find it enjoyable to check out the ships waiting to load or unload their cargo. Sometimes Marx could make a few extra credits by helping load or unload a ship.
At seventeen years old, Marx had finished his primary schooling. He had taken flight school courses, but he still couldn’t find work. Mark came from a poor family, and couldn’t afford to pay for his pilot’s license. No license meant no work.
Local jobs were mostly passed down the family lines. However, if there were more kids than jobs, that meant finding work off-world. Many kids scratched enough credits together to get a ride off world and look for work elsewhere, while other enlisted into the Commonwealth’s militia or science corps.
Marx couldn’t pass the Commonwealth entrance physical due to color blindness in one eye. The little credits Marx did earn, mostly went to help his family out, leaving him with almost nothing to save up.
Finding work was hard. Most ships had their own crew to handle loading and offloading. Many would chase you away fearing that you might steal something (a sad truth was that this happened most of the time). The few that would hire you paid very little for that help.
So, Marx roamed around the shipyard checking out the different types of ships.
M’Ress watched the human boy as he roamed from ship to ship. It was clear the boy wasn’t up to any trouble. He seemed more to be day dreaming than anything else. The boy really stuck out, being human. Thantos was a Tenthro world being populated primarily by gray skinned beings that stood a good meter taller than humans.
M’Ress herself was a Caitian, a feline race that ranged in fur colors, and markings, similar to many felines of earth. M’Ress fur was a brownish-red matching the thick mane of red hair on her head.
The boy turned and headed across the field towards another ship, but soon was chased away. The boy looked up at a ship that was lifting off. M’Ress could see the want in his eyes, then her comm chirped. A quick check and she walked back up the loading ramps and vanished inside the ship, to see what the captain wanted.
Marx seen the Caitian standing on the ship's loading ramp, and decided he'd avoid any problem after his run-in with the Milixain cargo handler. But Marx wanted to check out the ship. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but the ship looked like a Firestorm class cargo ship. The problem was that Mark had only read about them and had never seen one before.
The ship was graceful in looks, each and every curve was almost sensual in design. Marx knew that there should be a ship's ID plate close to the port side loading ramp door.
Mark walked around the back of the ship and touched its hull. The paint was faded in most spots and but the hull was still smooth. Well faded, but not rough. The pilot was skilled and obviously prevented hot spots and burn off. It took skilled hand to prevent hot spots and burn off. Many ships had a ceramic paint applied regularly to protect the hull from that.
Mark came around the port side, and passed one of the airlock doors. As with all other ships Mark had ever seen, the airlock doors were tightly sealed. Mark then stepped up to the port side loading ramp and as he turned to look up, he came face to face with the same Caitian that was watching him before.
“Whatcha doing?” M’Ress asked Marx.
Marx stepped back suddenly, “Sorry, Madam, I was only looking.”
“Seen you looking, but whatcha doing?”
“Nothing, really, just checking out some of the ships. I will go away.”
“You looking for work?”
Mark froze in place, it was rare that someone asked him that question, “Yes, madam, any work I can find.”
M’Ress looked over Marx carefully, “You still in school?”
“No, madam, I finished last summer.”
“Mmm, good grades?”
“Yes, madam, I had an eighty-plus percentile scoring,” said Marx, wondering where this was leading.
“Whatcha study? Mechanics? Cooking?” M’Ress asked as she tilted her head in question.
“Astronavigation and Flight School, madam,” answered Mark.
M’Ress eyebrow went up in surprise. She expected some form of formal training, but a trained pilot was a score.
Something had to be wrong for him to be here… still, she said, “Show me your certs,”
Mark reached into his back pocket and pulled out an old Datapad. He turned it on while M’Ress slipped hers out from her inside jacket pocket, and waited for Mark to swipe the data over to hers.
It took a few moments longer for Marx’s old pad to warm up and then he sent his school records and training certifications to M’Ress' unit.
M’Ress read the files over while Marx stood there nervously. Everything he had said was true and then she found out why. Mark had the schooling and all the certs, but not a pilot’s license yet.
“Why’s you not get license yet?”
“I don’t have the credits, madam,” answered Marx.
M’Ress looked at Marx once more and thought it over, “Wait right here. I need to speak with captain.”
Before Marx could say a word the Caitian female turned and left him standing at the bottom of the ship's loading ramp.
^ ^ ^ ^
“You want me to do what, now?” Captain Dora said as she listened to M’Ress tell her about some boy outside the ship.
“The Earther has all the schooling and certs. We pay his pilot's license fees, and take him on for a four year contract.”
“And why in the worlds would I do that M’Ress?”
“Cri’sy is getting long in tooth. We both know she needs to retire. When she does, we be short a licensed pilot. This Earther needs work, he’s trained but can’t afford the fee’s. if we take him on now we can train him up right. Won’t need to find pilot if Cri’sy ups and retires or worse yet passes on in flight.”
Dora sat back in her seat and tapped her console for the loading ramps view. She had a crew of ten, all females. It helped avoid the 'He’s mine' issues. But M’Ress was right, Cri’sy was old. She should have retired ages ago, and there had been a close call with her heart on the last leg.
A four year contract would ensure that she could keep flying. Sure, most of the crew could fly the ship, in a bind. But you couldn’t land or take off without a fully licensed pilot at the controls. Hmm, human… and male.
“Have you considered Cri’sy feeling towards us taking on a new young pilot?”
^ ^ ^ ^
A few minutes turned into a few hours yet Marx stood at the bottom of the ramp, only moving more toward the center of the ramps when it started raining. The temperature outside of the ship had dropped to the low forties, yet Marx’s stood there in the rain, shivering.
Dora looked out the view port down at the human standing in the rain. Then she open the loading hatch door and stepped outside. While the upper half of the ship extended over the forward ramp it really didn’t offer much protection for this wind driven rain.
“Hey, you?”
Marx looked up the ramp at the lady standing there and sighed, she was a Tilaxoin. From everything Marx understood, they hated humans.
“Sorry, madam, I will leave now.”
Dora smiled, “Wait, why don’t you come on in for a few minutes so we can talk.”
Marx paused, and looked visibly confused.
“Come on, or would you rather stay out here in the rain?”
^ ^ ^ ^
Marx’s home was pretty small. It had one bedroom, and Mark slept in the front room. His mom and dad worked hard. Mark rushed as he pack his stuff.
“Marx, what is going on?” Marx’s mom asked as she entered the apartment.
“I got a job, mom! I'm a co-pilot on a freighter!” Marx said excitedly.
Rose stopped in mid-step. She knew this day would come, but hearing it was so different than thinking about it. Rose stepped over to Marx as he finished shoving the last of his things in his backpack and gave Marx a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
“You be safe and keep warm,” she said with a tear in her eye.
“I will, Mom,”
“And write us,” Rose knew the chances were slim that Marx would write and she was positive it would be over ten years before she ever saw him again.
“I will, Mom… and tell Dad that I…”
“He’ll understand. Go, before you change your mind.”
Rose watched as the door slid closed behind Marx. As she turned, Rose smiled. On the little shelf where they kept the family photos, one was missing. In its place Marx had left the toy starship that he'd had since he was six.
^ ^ ^ ^
As Marx ran up to the ship he was surprised to see the cargo ramps retracted and stowed away. It took a few moments for Mark to find an open airlock, and enter the ship. Standing there, was M’Ress with a big smile on her face.
“Give me your bag. Captain wants you on the bridge, right away.”
Marx passed M’Ress his backpack, and then ran down the corridor to the nearest lift.
M’Ress held Marx’s bag at arm’s length. The human boy was cute, but it was clear he hadn’t bathed in a few days. His clothes reflected the lack of laundering, also. Her first stop, therefore, was to the ship's laundry.
After sorting Marx stuff, M’Ress realized he was ill prepared for a stay on a ship. Then the ship’s internal gravity plates became active. There was no time to get Marx some warm clothes. She'd have to look through the ship's stores to find something he could wear.
^ ^ ^ ^
Mark stepped onto the bridge, and was amazed at all the activity. This wasn’t flight school! It was the real thing, and this ship was no trainer! It was 10,888 tons of awesomeness. Everyone on the bridge was busy. Then suddenly someone placed a paw on Marx’s shoulder. Marx turned and smiled at the elder Caitian.
“So you’re the young whipper snapper that M’Ress dug up?” Cri’sy said as she walked Marx towards the pilot's and co-pilot's seats.
“Yes, madam, I’m Marx Little.”
“A pleasure to meet you, young man. Why don’t you take the left seat?” Cri’sy offered.
Marx stopped dead, “But, that’s the pilot's seat. If the pilot finds me in his seat he’ll strangle me.”
“Trust me, boy, the pilot won’t strangle you. Now get in the seat, and get logged in.”
Marx slipped into the pilot’s seat, and found it very uncomfortable. The seat was configured for someone shorter than Mark, and with a tail. Placing his ident chit into the pilot's command console the seat reconfigured itself for Marx and chirped when it recognized him as a licensed pilot.
The display before Marx showed the ship's current status, and that they had an authorized flight plan filed. Then the elder Caitian sat in the co-pilots seat. When she inserted her ident chit into the console, Marx's eyes widened. The elder Caitian was the ship's pilot with over a trillion AUs of flight time.
Cri’sy looked over at Marx and smiled, “Relax and go through your pre-flight check list.”
Marx looked back at his display, and keyed up the pre-flight list. Marx would read off an item and do what it instructed, while Cri’sy reviewed each step and ensured Marx completed it correctly.
After finishing the list, Mark reach down to his left and grabbed the throttle/collective control, while with his right hand Mark grabbed the control yoke. He made sure his feet were solidly on the pedals.
Captain Dora ordered lift off, and Marx slowly throttled up the gravity drives while lifting the collective upwards and holding the yoke solidly in place.
It was painfully slow for Captain Dora, who was use to Cri’sy rapid style of flying the ship. It was clear Marx was fresh out of flight school, but he slowly worked the unfamiliar ship's controls, steadily.
Marx placed more pressure on the right pedal, and the ship rotated right on its center line until it faced to the south. Then Mark pushed the ships yolk causing it to shift from simply raising upwards, to a more forward flight path.
It wasn’t until the ship reached its jump point that Cri’sy said anything.
“Have you jumped into slipstream before, laddy?”
“No, madam. That wasn’t part of flight school. My instructor said that there so many different types of FTL drives, that the school couldn’t cover them all.”
“Understandable. Okay, then, let’s start with the type of FTL this ship uses.”
Marx typed in a few commands and brought up the FTL drive information.
“Type Seven Tachyon pulse drive.”
“They're slow, but they're highly reliable drives,” Cri’sy said as she checked her display, “We can reach warp five, and maintain it for the whole trip.”
Marx watched as the course was entered and Cri’sy doubled checked the ships weight to the fuel usage.
‘Four months at warp,’ thought Marx as he reviewed the trip.
“We have more than enough for this trip; but, Captain, we will need to refuel on Dresslu, or make a stop at Midway Station,” Cri'sy said.
“Understood, Cri’sy,” Captain Dora said as she also reviewed the trip plan.
Cri’sy was the one who took the ship into warp, and after a few checks she smiled at Marx.
“Now we sit back and babysit the ship. Why don’t you take first watch.”
“Okay, Madam,” answered Marx.
It didn’t take long for the crew members to all introduce themselves to Marx. To his surprise, the ship was filled with females. About twelve minutes before Mark's watch was over, a Kastic female joined him on the bridge.
“When your shift is over, Doc wants you to visit her.”
Kastic were fox like beings, with two tails and as Amore spoke to Marx he couldn’t help but watched as the tails swished around her legs.
“You’re a cute boy. You like tails?”
Marx broke his trance of watching the Kastic's tails.
“Umm, yes. Sorry, madam.”
“Sammi, you can call me Sammi.”
“Nice to meet you, Sammi,” Marx said as Sammi walked over to the captain’s chair and entered her pass codes into the console.
On Mark's display, the seat assignment changed from vacant, to Shift Watch. Mark then pulled his ident from the pilots console, and locked the controls out.
As Marx stood up, he found Sammi watching him with a smile.
“You can take off now, if you like.”
“Thanks,” said Marx as he felt like he'd just been placed on some menu of Sammi’s, from the way she was watching him.
The medical center was more or less in the middle of the ship. Marx entered the office, and found the ship’s doctor reviewing his medical records. Doctor As’ia was also a Caitian but with a deep black fur coat that looked almost blue in the rooms light.
“You asked to see me, Doctor?”
Looking up from her console, “Yes, I did. I'm reviewing and updating your records. Says here you have a touch of color blindness.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Marx answered.
“Have you considered having an implant?”
“Honestly, Doctor, I never knew I was color blind to start off with, and even now, knowing hasn’t changed anything for me,” Marx said as he sat in an offered chair.
As’ia read a few more files, “Well, everything but your inoculations are up to date, and we can take care of them easily enough. Now, I have a few questions for you. Firstly are you sexually active?”
Marx blushed a rich deep red as he replied, “No.”
“I see, have you ever had a sexual experience at all?”
“No.”
As’ia raised an eyebrow at Marx answers, as she checked 'negative' on sexually transmitted diseases.
The questions went on for about twenty more minutes.
“Well, I think we covered most of this. I have a few tips for you, Marx. Firstly, remember you’re on a ship with other races, and all of the races here, have much more sensitive sense of smell than you do,” said As’ia as she finished up with Marx files.
Marx gave her a blank look.
“When was the last time you bathed?”
“Hm, three… no, four days ago,” answered Marx as he tried to remember when.
As’ia was surprised to say the least, “Is that normal?”
“Water is expensive, back home. So, I took baths only when needed… or weekly, depending on the weather.”
Credits! It seemed most problems came down to credits.
“Look, you're living now in an enclosed space. You will need to bathe daily, possibly two or more times a day, depending on how much you sweat.”
Humans were the only race As’ia could think of that did sweat with such an awful scent!
“So you can either jump in medical's shower, or head directly for your suite's shower. I will be keeping an eye on you,” Dr. As’ia said as she entered a note into her console.
As a pilot, Marx’s room was on deck two. He was next to one of the four main lifts, and a zero grav travel tube. Marx liked the Zero grave tubes, it was like flying when he traveled in them. When Mark entered, he was really surprised at the size of the room. Compared to the apartment where he'd grown up, it was enormous. There was a sitting area with an entertainment center then behind that was a king size bed with a large view screen, so Marx could watch the stars pass by.
To the left was a door that led to a full bathroom, with a tub sunk into the floor, and a shower large enough for three people.
Mark couldn’t find his backpack with his extra clothes. There were clean sheets on the bed, and the bathroom had clean towels, but his clothes were not to be found anywhere.
Well, M’Ress had taken his bag. Marx figured she must have been distracted, and would bring it by later. Tossing his clothes onto the bed, Marx headed into the bathroom for a shower.
Edited By TeNderLoin
