Chapter 2: Year 2, Head Cargo Handler

When a mere sixteen-year-old John Smith awoke. The first thing he did was close his eyes tightly before taking the blindfold off.

He wasn't a captured prisoner in the conventional sense. But the bright constant glare from his room was always hard to get used to first thing in the morning.

The ship was lit by glowing plants. Dwarf Cave Vines that now grew all over the ship and drank the excess moisture from the air. Unfortunately you can't turn plants off so you needed a blindfold to get any sleep.

Slowly he sat up and drank heavily from a two pint glasses of water he kept next to the bed, his mouth always felt so dry every time he awoke now. The next job of the morning was putting on a generous layer of skin moisturiser all over his body.

Still at least breakfast from the matter recycles was much nicer now a days, with the vines taking so much work of life support the food had improved ten fold but still was far from perfect.

The young lad had been in space on and off for a year. Now he only very occasionally got hyper space sickness.

He now had taken time to get to know the whole crew, both of them.

The ship was an old Orach freighter called the Haifhiu. In human it meant Full Pocket. It was certainly designed for cheapness rather than quality.

The captain was an Orach lady who despite her green skin pig, looks had a very sexy sounding voice and an expert business manner. She was called Captain Carla Camode of the Imperial Orach Merchant Navy.

The other member of the crew was a Dwarf engineer he now knew a Turn Cog, from a long line of famous Dwarf Cog clan.

John himself was just a mere human, a short lifer as many other races called his kind.

After eating he put on a dry comfortable flight suit. It was a nice navy blue one with white stripes.

John was only paid 12 credits a day but got bonuses for finding good deals for buying and selling cargo sometimes. Since discovering the vines (that by now were well over due for pruning) he had found he had a knack for bartering and finding markets.

Then he prepared for another routine day.

His job was mostly lifting and unloading cargo and then (as he discovered in his first space trip) look after it once it was aboard. Still his body didn't seem to ache all over the way it used to.

He had to turn sideways slightly to get though his rooms door, and gave a quick stretch, and moaned in his head, as he realised his suit was getting to tight again. He was getting fed up with having to buy new ones.

He just assumed they must have kept shrinking in either the wash or this dry environment.

' So much for hi-tech fabrics' he thought to himself.

John then made his way to the bridge.

Carla was there in her favourite mouldy bathrobe. The last thing any human wanted to see first thing in the morning was a naked female Orach.

She was smiling.

"Good morning Head Cargo Handler," wafted a sensuous voice from the jutting green jaw.

"Sorry?" said John rubbing his eyes.

"Good morning Head Cargo Handler" She repeated,

"What?"

"I'm promoting you,"

"What?" said John again.

"I, the captain of the Haifhiu, am promoting you John Smith to Head Cargo Handler,"

John started at the pronunciation of the ship's name, it was only when she spoke Orach that she sounded like one. It was a language of sniffing and blowing of a full Orach nose, using the vocal cords very rarely to give intonation to the meaning.

"So great, thanks, really, I get to be head of a department of zero excluding myself,"

"Don't' be silly," said Carla puzzled, meaningless titles for the ego was strictly a human habit that most other races couldn't comprehend.

"To be head cargo handler you'll have to hire one or two people on the next planet," she continued.

John quickly awoke and took an interest.

"Do I get pay rise?"

"No you get command experience and help. And I will apply for you to join the Imperial Merchant Navy if you wish."

John said nothing. He had started to learn that silence had a habit of sucking more information out of people than a series of questions.

"You'll have a 25 credit budget, and there's room on ship for about seven other people but I would like you to save space for super cargo,"

"I'd be lucky to get two people on that budget!" John exclaimed.

"Yes but your daily budget may well increase in future, It's because of your trading savvy that we can afford more crew, its because of you discovering these vines, " she said pointing to the glowing flowers " that we can afford the life support. We almost need more people to add moisture to the air."

This was the first compliment John had been given since entering space.

"Thank you."

"What for" again she seemed puzzled.

"Just thanks," and with that he smiled and left.

The planet was an industrial one. Thick with pollution, almost all city. It was once of course a rich green planet a thousand years ago, but planets tended to specialise and this one specialised in mass manufacturing.

The Baron's of planet Goms were historically ruthless and greedy.

Apart from the palace gardens of the Barons there was no greenery.

There were no unions, or knowledge of what a union was. In the lower levels where even the sick yellow sunlight never reached, was rife with street gangs and crime. Those inhabitants who could afford it carried filter masks. Those who couldn't died in their middle twenties. It was almost a hive world, and home to some of the greatest stock of Imperial soldiers. Which explained allot about the temperament of your average imperial soldier.

A person wanting off this planet could read the bulletin and could read all the ships details. Not that many came however because of the Haifhiu being an Orach ship. Orach ships were notorious for their lack of comfort and reliability, so there was not the best selection of possible crew waiting in line for inspection that evening.

When John had been in this line a year ago back on his home farming planet, he had been the only one in line. Here there were three in line.

Despite lack of unions there was an Imperial Directive (and no planet Baron openly disobeyed an Imperial directive, ) that a persons scientifically measured health level affected their wage. It was the reason the Captain had to increase John's wage twice this year. The healthier the person was the more they had to be paid. It was the Empires way of encouraging people to stay healthy and help insure a healthy stock of possible soldiers. Each candidate had their medical pads in front or them to prove their fitness level. The average was a rating of ten.

Out there were three prospects. A young girl in purple gang colours, a young man in red gang colours and a larger hairy creature in a loincloth.

There are two main muscle creatures (discounting undead and the like) known. Large hairy creatures called shaggy's who were all muscle, hair, and brute force, (your classic sci-fi creature found in so many alternate realities) and there were Bigony's who were less hairy, bigger, from the highest gravity worlds. With an average IQ of about sixty.

The creature in the line was a Bigony. Average for his race but a huge eight-foot to a human. There wouldn't be any problem with him getting around the ship because Bigony's preferred to travel on all fours anyway.

John quickly looked at his health chart. He was very healthy, again just over average for his race but to a human he was super fit. He had a minimum wage of 15 credits a day.

The second was a thin young man slightly older than John was. His gang red colours were made up of leather and openly showed his collation of blades. He cost 11 a day.

The last was the girl in her twenties. Her long blond hair, the little purple gang cloths she wore, and a nice body made a young naive John gulp and feel suddenly shy. But there was something about her eyes, a desperate viciousness perhaps that unnerved him in the opposite direction. It was like an instant cold shower on the soul of passion. They were the eyes of a scared killer. Her health rating would of normally also given a wage of 11 a day, except for one additional fact on her chart.

John looked at it again.

"You're not an Imperial citizen," John read, to avoid that eye contact.

This meant she had no rights under law. She could be killed openly in a crowd of policemen and there would not be a conviction. The health wage laws certainly didn't cover her.

"You belong to yourself?" John asked, with his eyes still down. Trying not to notice her cleavage.

He did not want to get convicted of stealing if she was a slave.

She handed over self-ownership papers, which proved that for now, she did own herself. But as she was not an imperial citizen. Anyone who could capture her could claim ownership of her, and do what they wanted with her. No citizenship equalled no rights.

John hadn't really decided how he felt about slavery yet.

He could offer her any wage he wanted, or even just room and Board. By the feel of it she would probably accept any terms to get off this planet. At the end of the day it came down to one thing in his mind.

This would be his first command position.

What sort of commander did he want to be?

"If chosen you'll get the 11 credits a day like everyone else,"

No sign of gratitude or lessening of hardness in her expression.

Then he turned his attention to all three.

"One word of warning, your job is NOT just to load and unload cargo. It is also to look after the cargo while it is on board. Understand! That includes passengers. Any questions?"

The girl's hand went up.

"Yes?" Asked John.

"I'm not a whore"

"Umm. Ok. Thank you for that information,"

"You said we had to look after passengers," she continued "I'm just letting you know that I am no whore."

"By look after I just meant protect," John could feel himself going red "They feed and bathe themselves. Just let me know if they are ill, break up fights and don't let them fall out of the airlock."

He turned back to the line.

"Any more questions?"

The line was silent.

No John had to make his decision with his 25 credit daily budget.

He could afford only two of the three candidates and he definitely wanted to hire her. He didn't explore to deeply why he wanted to hire her in case he did not like what he found. He told himself that it was because she showed moral courage despite how badly she might want to get off the planet. This meant he wouldn't be able to afford the Bigoney, which was a pity. Something that strong would have been an asset to any crew.

So that left her and the other fellow human.

At least it left 3 credits on the daily budget. Perhaps he'd very slowly save up for an Exeo skeleton for the ship. If he found anyone who could pilot it.

Her name was Lisa with no second name. His was Less Ruther but his street name was Blade.

It wasn't long before the captain had some cargo arranged. She did not buy the cargo but instead was being contracted to carry it for someone else. It was beer to be carried off planet along with a passenger as super cargo to look after it. She was small young lady, who would sell the beer at the other end.

Carla also bought five boxes of cheaper beer in case she had to bribe her way past pirates.

The first question Carla had to ask John was, "Why not the Bigony?"

"It's my first ever command decision, must it be questioned."

"No need to be so defensive," Carla replied "I wasn't so much questioning as being curious,"

"We never carry anything that heavy that needs a Bigony,"

"That's because we haven't got one to do the lifting," Carla stated.

"I better get to looking after the new crew," John said to excuse himself.

The nasty thought that he might have screwed up by thinking with his groin was sneaking upon him.

In the bay he saw the super cargo the pale young lady elf calling herself Green Willow.

"Welcome to the Haifhiu," John smiled.

Green Willow just stared in response.

"May I show you to your quarters?" John continued.

Still saying nothing, the super cargo nodded. John could plainly tell that she was simply being arrogant and rude. It could have been because he was a short lifer (being only human) or it could be because he was a spacer. Either way he had learnt by now not to let it bother him.

She couldn't hide her surprise though when she found that the Haifhiu wasn't the dark damp space hulk she had expected from an Orach ship. She still, however, said nothing.