Blood and Profit: Chapter 2

Toll had a never ending list of the things he hated about his job. He hated the repetitive task of flying ships from the surface to the high orbit recycling station so they could be torn apart and used to build new ships. He did this for ten hours a day five days a week and hated that he spent three years in flight school to do it. He hated that often the junked ships were on their legitimate last flight, falling apart to the point that it was standard procedure to wear a spacesuit with maneuvering jets in case the ship came apart before it docked at the recycling station. An event that had occurred more than a few times. He hated the suits with their stale air and stiff joints. He hated the time it took to get himself to the station under the power of the maneuvering jets and he hated the fact that he was certified to fly anything and everything that could touch the sky and he had ended up as a junk pilot. The recycling station and the ancient deactivated slip ring came into view as he changed course.

“Mew, it's Toll, lemme in!” He was well within communications range of the station and tormenting Mew was one of the things he loved about his job. The ship didn't have a working communications system so all communication with the planet and the station were done through his suit. Mew's annoyed voice filled his helmet.

“How many times do we have to go over this Saluter. This is an open channel, you have to follow procedure.” That nickname was the number one reason he hated this job. Begrudgingly, he replied back.

“Sky station zero two seven. This is reclamation pilot theta five niner requesting permission to dock in bay zero four. Over.” He edged the ship up to the docking bay door so there was less than three feet of space between the door and the nose of the ship. This infuriated Mew and he knew it.

“Rodger theta five niner. Permission to dock granted. In the future please remain outside the required safety distance when requesting docking clearance.” The door slid up slowly, revealing an empty docking bay which was also an automated disassembly bay. As soon as the door was clear he landed the ancient craft.

“What ever you say dear.” Once the door to the docking bay closed, gravity was restored and oxygen flooded the compartment. Toll took his helmet off and climbed out of the ship. Outside the bay he ran into Rusty. Where Toll was tall and thin with short hair and sharp features, Rusty was shorter rounder and had a trusting face. He was also very, very good with computers.

“Hey Toll, why does Mew call you Saluter?” Rusty also had very little in the way of social tact. Toll smiled and unconsciously led Rusty to the stations dining area.

“long embarrassing story.” In the dining hall, Toll loaded his tray up with every manner of machine printed protein they had. “Did you get it?”

Rusty followed behind with a much smaller assortment on his tray. He grabbed a juice box without looking at it. “Yeah I got it. I think you're crazy though. The authorities are going to catch you before you can reach the ri -” Toll slammed his hand over Rusty's mouth.

“lets just not talk about it here ok?” Rusty nodded and Toll moved his hand. “You sure you don't want to come with me? It's going to be the adventure of a life time.” Rusty followed Toll to a table as far away from other people as possible, and they sat across from each other. Rusty set his satchel on the floor and opened his drink.

“why would I want to go with you?” Rusty looked at the nearest tables and the only one with people at it was quickly emptied as they finished their food. Rusty whispered anyway. “they shut down the ring two hundred years ago for a reason and you have no way of knowing what's on the other side, or if there is anything anymore.” Rusty handed Toll the satchel and went back to his lunch. Toll couldn't keep himself from opening the satchel to look at the control console inside.

“Maybe they did shut it down for a reason. I want to know what that reason is.” He said as he closed the satchel. “Which bay are you docked in?”

Rusty looked like he was having an issue not being sick. “I really wish you could find a different way to get to the ring. That's my dad's cruiser.” He put his fork down sadly as his stomach continued to protest.

“It's all we've got Rusty.” Toll finished his food and stood up. “Look, I appreciate everything you're doing for me. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?” Rusty nodded. He had worked himself up into a nervous sweat and pushed his tray away. “Your loss. I'll be back. I've got to report in.” Rusty nodded. Toll headed out of the hall toward station command.