Big Red

Posted on Sat Nov 23rd, 2019 @ 3:57pm by Commanding Officer Soto Nabaal & Commanding Officer Mickey Serendipity & Pilot Allegra Jennings

Mission: The Forgotten Arm
Location: High Elysium, MCR Orbital Tether, Phobos
Timeline: A few years before the Eros Incident

The UN Calorie Man came out of the pier side express tunnel and didn't read the sign. In Mandarin, Hindi, English and Irish Gaelic the end of the tunnel's traction handle warned of the sudden deceleration, advising users to brace for microgravity as they transited the pier arms of High Elysium from the rotating gravity sections of the Martian port. But the man from Earth in the suit just a shade whiter than vat-grown salmon fillets didn't heed the warning, so when the handle he was holding that was pulling him along the tube suddenly stop all his forward motion kept going.

Newton's 3rd got another royalty cheque.

He tumbled through the open air of the pier, avoiding the travel lanes used by drones to ferry cargo containers on jets of cold gas. That didn't stop the dockworkers from stopping to watch the show. They were the sensible ones, connected to safety rails by tethers or had arms or legs tucked through ladder rungs. He finally bounced off the ceiling, cursing in high octane French as he wriggled like a grub, trying to find a way that was up.

"Where is she?" he bellowed, arms pinwheeling as a dock worker took pitty and intercepted him, taking the time to get him to a ladder before kicking off with effortless grace. He looked around, head whipping as his blonde toupe began to unpeel in the microgravity. "The pilot of the Pillars of Tycho! Where the damn hell is she!?"

No one answered, and the pair of MRCN shore patrol in their black and grey body armour manning the overwatch station didn't even seem to notice the demand.

The fat man in the suit reached into a pocket, and pulled out a flexible smart sheet, flicking it out so that the transparent computer film stiffened and began to fill with text.

"You are all under charter by Vector Red Merchantile, who were commissioned by the United Nation to ferry Ganymede soya beans to High Elysium for transhipment to an Earthbound freighter! I demand to talk to the pilot, or so help me I will have you all fired and sent back to the surface by the end of the shift without payment!!" his voice was taking on the high pitched, I-Might-Be-Having-A-Stroke tone that middle managers take so well. "Where is pilot officer Allegra Jennings!!"

He tried to tap his foot to show impatience as no one jumped to point out the pilot. But instead of tapping all his mag booted foot did was make him jiggle back and forth like a nodding desk toy, which got a snigger from a few of the stevedores. His flushing jowls went scarlet, and he held up his terminal threateningly.

"I have fourteen pink slips here with blank spaces where names should be! If I don't get an answer I'll start randomly picking out names, and you'll all be on the next carriage down the tether to Olympus Mon's! I'm sure the Martian Congressional Republic can help you find new employment, I hear the Navy has low standards for entry given you'll get no recommendations from Vector Red Mercantile!" he bellowed. "And before you cry foul and demand a union rep, might I remind you I have instructed you to perform a task well within your grasp and bearing! You can't wiggle out a summary dismissal by claiming I wasn't reasonable. Jennings. Now."

He raised eyebrows that were very nearly invisible. Nothing seemed to happen, so he sighed and pointed a pudgy finger at one red jumpsuited figure.

"Clear out your locker, and get to the carriage station for passage down the tether before end of the shift or you'll be arrested for malingering by station security," the UN Calorie man barked to the startled face of an unlucky man in his field of vision.

There was no missing the portly man, even before he opened his belligerent mouth. His attire, which showcased his need for fashion advance, set him apart from the ordinary wear typical of the dockworkers, and the more sensible uniforms of ship employees. It wasn’t overly strange to see a suit here, but normally they didn’t make such a spectacle of themselves, which the rotund man so cleverly did. Even if he hadn’t meant to draw attention to himself in such an accidental way, there was no doubt that the attention he desperately wanted, he now had.

Respect? Not so much given the snickers coming from the clusters of people Allegra was standing with. She herself was currently stifling an all out guffaw behind the back of her hand as she watched the scene play out. There hadn’t been anything this amusing since, hell, Allegra didn’t know when. Except her amusement was unfortunately and unexpectedly cut short, her hand dropping to hang loosely at her side as realization suddenly sank in. This wasn’t good, was it? But then that toupe flopped unnaturally again. How could anyone take this man serious in such a manner?

Certainly it was a chore. Even more so as she crossed her arms and listened to the threatening speil. Why did things always have to become threats? A quick roll of green eyes found her wondering just how much was nothing but open threats and how much the suit would follow through. Allegra didn’t have to wait long, a few seconds ticking by making her wonder if this was somewhat in retaliation for the obvious lack of respect he was receiving.

Hands on either side of her hips the ugly red jumpsuit tied haphazardly about her waist, Allegra bent slightly, head bowing downward dejectedly. Yep, this was happening and she couldn’t let others get fired just because some fat man was embarrassed.

“Slow your roll there, Santa.” Allegra couldn’t let him dish out pink slips like presents. She tugged the tie at her waist and stepped forward, boots clicking as she weaved through and approached the man.

The man in the suit with the hairpiece seeking the adventure of a single's cruise glowered at her. Something literally flashed in his eyes, retinal contacts laser etching data right onto his cornea's. Fancy Martian biotech in the body of a bloating Earth bureaucrat. Probably had a gene tweaked tapeworm feeding his bloated arteries blood thinners to keep the strokes away. He then took the flexi he'd been holding and pushed it out into towards her face.

"Allegra Jennings, Vector Red Merchantile employee number 3590134, I hear by serve you with notice," he said smugly. "You're being fined. The full UN adjusted dollar value of the cargo shipped aboard the Pillars of Tycho. A full invoice can be found on the last tab of the file, but the figure comes to just shy of $16 million. As the pilot responsible for the irresponsible manoeuvre that cost Vector Red Merchantile so dearly, it seems only fair you bear the brunt of the expense. It is not the work of a shipping concern to rescue those who do not take into account the hazards of long haul space travel. We had a contract to fulfil, and you voided it."

He shook the flexi.

"You'll also find a document in there from our legal team divesting Vector Red Mercantile of any future liabilities claimed by the crew of the prospecting ship. You know how Belter's can be, they'd bleed us to death in court trying to get the company to buy them a new ship," he sniffed disdainfully.

Normally easy going and friendly, Allegra didn’t take too kindly to the way the man was trying to railroad the other workers, nor the way he was causing such a repulsive scene. Which was only growing worse, it seemed. With a fierce, you’ve got to be kidding me, roll of green eyes, she crossed her arms. Clearly this particular suit found his kicks drawing creating unnecessary scenes instead of visiting the nearest brothel.

Allegra shoved the flexi away from her face, as she stood frozen, doing nothing but blinking for nearly a minute. Once the realization of both the accusation and words registered. “Are you fucking serious?” Another corporate asshole out to make a person feel as small as they could. Lucky for her, she’d been in the MCRN and knew such, didn’t mean she had to take it anymore. She’s never heard of such a stiff fine. “Why don’t you take your fine and shove it. If I had that kinda money, you think I’d be standing here wearing this crap?”

“I’ll have you know, my maneuvers have never resulted in serious injury.” A little bump of a head, sure. But a serious injury, never.

"Alas, Miss Jenning's, you signed a contract. By diverting the course of the Pillars of Tycho to match course and speed with a leaky prospector rockhopper, you delayed the arrival of our shipment of Ganymede soya beans. That put Vector Red Mercantile into a failure to comply clause with stiff penalties, not to mention a .02% drop in our share price across two world markets. Fortunately, on page two of that flexi there are the legal methods by which you might repay your debt to your employer," the UN Calorie man said with a smile best described88 as wicked. He reached over the flexi, and tapped the glowing 'next' button on the document.

Page two's title header read: Indentured Employment Contract.

"Deducting a portion of your fine, with interest, and various small living expenses such as air and water, you could see yourself free of debt in 40 years."

For the briefest of moments while the words registered, running around in circles in her head trying to keep her from grasping at them, Allegra could only stand there and blink at the man. His disgusting suit, the flopping toupe that looked like it belonged on some farm animal were all lost as she did nothing but blink a pair of confused emerald eyes. Her heart started to race, as the flailing words started to gather into something that made a small bit of sense. But yet not.

She couldn’t bring herself to glance down at the flexi that he seemed to be so proud of. Vaguely she wondered if he was proud of the rug on his head and just how red his face would get if she just ripped it from his head and tossed it away. It’d make a funny, watching it float away as he scrambled to grab ahold and regain some modesty. Instead, Allegra held her ground, if she could stand up to her father, the military man, then she could face off with just about anyone. Not so jolly men who weren’t Santa, included. She crossed her arms, “That wasn’t my decision. It was the Captain’s. How can I be held accountable for following her orders?”

Clearly she was refusing to even bring up the contract he was almost salivating over. Allegra had freed herself from her family and the MCRN, there was no way she was giving her life over for something that wasn’t her fault. Well. Entirely her fault. “I think you bumped that head of yours where you tripped and came floating in here, Mister.”

"I assure you my faculties are well in line with corporate medical guidelines. As are the ties of culpability. Page 10 of the document outlines the testimony of the ships flight engineer and black box data recorder: you were at the controls, you followed the Captains orders. Your contract does give you leeway in disobeying illegal orders in the event they go against corporate interest," he spread his hands. "You made a choice to follow orders that would put Vector Red mercantile into a failure to comply clause. You could have stepped away from the controls, but instead, you made a choice. And choices have consequences."

"There you are Esteban, been floating all over this dock looking for you," a new voice said. A tall man with the physical build of a low gee native landed beside the two. Unlike the other workers in the bay, all of them wearing the blood-red jumpsuits and livery of Vector Red, he had a civilian jumpsuit on with a snow-white jacket zipped up to ward off the chill. A blue-winged motif played out on the back.

"Mr Serendipity," the pink suit wearing toupe monster called Esteban said, clearly taken aback by the interruption. "You will have to forgive my tardiness but I am in the middle of contract negotiations."

"Yeah that sounds like a you problem, but boy can I interest you in a new problem," Mickey grinned. "MCRN custom skiff just came online in this sector of the dock. Spot inspections you know, probably just the Mickey navy trying its damndest to look like it's doing something with its impressive military budget."

"But I...I was assured...I mean...they can't do that?!' he sputtered.

"They can, they are, and right now I have a full refund for you," Mr Serendipity held up his terminal and hit a button. "There. We're now just two guys having a conversation and not a partnership in moving things from A to B. Our arrangement only locks in when the goods are on the ship, not when they are stuck in a micro gee warehouse with a customs party going through it. But hey, no biggie, because I am sure what you were moving was nice and legal and totally paid for."

Esteban was gone, moving with a shocking degree of grace for a butterball.

"That was satisfying," he said, turning to Allegra. "Names Mickey by the way. And by the time he gets his ducks in a row about how he totally didn't store a shipment of dismantled torpedo fusion drives in a crate marked 'Farming Supplies' bound for Europa, I'm thinking the best thing for you would be to be far away from High Elysium. Good pilot like you should be able to do that, and Captain Gemma Tapping tells me you are one of the best she's seen. She got the boot and black list from Vector Red, but she put out the word the other members of her crew were going to be railroaded by Vector Red for corporate damages."

He held up a hand, counting off.

"Flight engineer's a snitch in the company's pocket, ships medic is getting transferred to a clinic on Luna, and the comm tech got a gig working for the Demois Deep Space Array. I need a pilot," he said through thin lips. "Well, what I need is an IOU taken care of that Gemma has over me after a game of Go-Go went so-so. You're the payment of that IOU, and I know a guy who can make that indentured contracted vanish."

Thankfully, before Allegra could make the situation even worse by punching the portly man, they were approached by yet another. She fought the urge to follow thru with her inclination by crossing her arms as she stood there. He thought he was smart telling her what she could have done, but please...not following your captain’s orders was like signing your name on a dotted line to promise to never pilot a ship again.

Allegra couldn’t help but shoot an aggravated glance at the newcomer, noting the difference in his attire compared to not just her own, but nearly everyone else present. The fake Santa not included. This was her life, her future that they were about to start arguing about and mister white jacket wanted to...actually, this wasn’t a bad interruption. Not if it proved a good enough distraction.

Intrigued, green eyes danced between the two as they tossed words back and forth, a satisfied smirk turning the corner of her mouth upwards as she watched the suit stumble red faced over his words. Clearly this newcomer had gotten the upper hand and completely distracted the Vector Red suit from putting her through the wringer. Which, given that it was now just the two of them standing there, was a bit of a relief.

She arched an eyebrow questioningly. Surely not. Surely this little interruption didn’t have a single thing to do with her. Except, maybe it did. Given the little name dropping. But the extent of it didn’t stop there. He was right, she did need to be good and far away from here. Allegra snorted as he started counting off of his fingers, flipping figured.

He needed a pilot. It was almost enough to make her refuse. Almost. Allegra liked staying employed, but it was the mention of the indentured contract that truly caught her attention. Turning to face him, she gave him a quick once over. Would she rather spend the next forty years being basically nothing much of a slave for a corrupt company or owe some man for helping her out. “And what’s it gonna cost me to make it vanish?”

"Just say yes. The way I see it the deal I had with Captain Tapping was a singular favour. I take you on as a pilot for a run, we see how it flies. If at the end of the run you want off the ship, well then we're square. But I don't think you will," Mickey Serendipity grinned. "I'm XO on the Albatross. She's an old retrofitted UN Navy corvette with an engineer who knows all the tricks to her to purr. We're a courier ship, and whilst we'll never carry outright black market goods, we're not above working in the grey areas."

He gestured to the pink three-piece suit that looked like a flailing airship tumbling through the air.

"Should Estaban come through this little MCRN inspection snafu, then we might do business with him later on down the line. He has a second family out on Titan, beach villa in one of the tropic domes. Expensive lifestyle to keep up on a Vector Red pay chit," he noted. He then looked back to Allegra. "So, you want to come meet the ship and see if we're worth a one-way ticket to somewhere else?"

Just say yes. The word was right there on the tip of her tongue, only it sounded almost too good to be true. A trail run and if she didn’t like it she was free and clear? Allegra chewed on her lip, her gazing following his gesture. Such was a rather interesting thing to learn about the man, but there wasn’t much she could do with it.

Dropping her arms, Allegra lifted them in a shrug, “Sure.” It couldn’t hurt. Plus, if it rescued her from wasting the best years of her life as an indentured servant, how could she refuse? It wasn’t a clear yes, but what could it hurt?

Red wasn't really her color anyhow.