by Carrick O'Sullivan
80819.2300
Two Weeks Before Cascade Effect
-=Blatt's Bar and Tongo Hall=-
80819.2300
Two Weeks Before Cascade Effect
-=Blatt's Bar and Tongo Hall=-
He lit another cigarette, cupping his hand around the damn thing to protect the flame from the lighter from being extinguished by the breeze coming through the door. Carrick stood at the end of a makeshift line that wound its way through the bar.
Despite the pure unchecked filth and stench of this place, the crowd refused to give up a chance at employment. Especially when it offered them the chance to get away from the hell hole that was Aertok.
Word was the merchant vessel was looking for perhaps as many as a hundred souls for a series of transport missions. Opportunities to join a crew usually popped up a half-dozen at a time, at most.
Carrick tried to peer around the enormous Pakled in front of him to check on the progress of the line. Surprisingly the line was moving rather swiftly.
"I can lift cargo good."
"Aye, I'm sure ya can." Carrick said, smiling politely while avoiding eye contact.
The three men conducting the interviews at the front of the line gave each man a quick look over, asked a few questions, and either handed them a data rod or sent them on their way.
"Not too picky, are we?" Carrick observed to himself. By now he had already moved up several places, and the line was extending behind him.
He couldn't wait to get off this rock, but then again, he couldn't wait to get away from any place he was. Perhaps one day he'd run to a place where he was actually comfortable.
"I can stack cargo good too." The Pakled said.
"Aye, you're a credit to yer race. Well done." Carrick replied, punctuating the statement by stomping out his cigarette on the floor. He again looked towards the front of the room. The interviewers were having a grand old laugh with one gentleman. Slapping him on the back and offering him welcome to the crew.
The man wasn't exactly well built but he did have a nicely polished face. Carrick wondered what the man would do if someone broke that perfect nose of his. Maybe if the interview didn't go well, he'd get drunk and find out.
He lit another cigarette to pass the time and hummed a folk song in his head to drown out the mumbling Pakled, who had turned his attention to the man in front of him.
The interview times seemed to get even shorter as the men at the table nursed their drinks and grew more intoxicated by the minute. Pretty soon they weren't even talking, just giving thumbs up and thumbs down.
By the time the Pakled was up, Carrick was seriously starting to wonder if this wasn't all just a scam of some sort.
"Hi, I am Gaj," he said. The men each turned their thumbs down almost immediately. "Goodbye." The Pakled nodded, and waddled out of the way."
Carrick stepped up to the front now, after briefly smoothing his hair, or attempting to anyway.
"Carrick O'Sullivan, pleased to meet you gentlemen."
"Irish, are ya?" One of the men said, sounding disgusted.
"And ye be Scottish." Carrick replied, feeling equally repulsed.
The man threw his arm on the table, indicating he wished to wrestle Carrick.
"All right, but I'm hella less drunk than you." Carrick warned. He sat at the table and grasped the man's hand.
"Ready, go!" Carrick slammed the Scot's hand down immediately.
"All right. You're in, ya filthy piece of scum." The Scot said, reaching out with a shaking hand and placing a data rod in Carrick's hand. "That will tell ya when and where to meet us."
"G'day to ya then." Carrick said, slipping away before they changed their minds. "First time I ever got a job from an arm wrestling match."
He ducked into the hole in the wall that his landlord had the nerve to call an apartment. The place was empty except for the overstuffed bag that housed all his belongings, and the computer terminal mounted to the wall. He slipped the data rod into the hole and read the information quickly.
"In a hurry are we? I'll have to pack." Carrick turned around, looked at the bag on the floor and nodded in satisfaction. "Packing is done."
24 hours later
Carrick recognized several familiar faces from the tavern the previous evening. They gathered in the large cargo hold of the ship. He had an eerie feeling come over him as he noticed everyone here seemed to be a new hire. There was no sign of any of the crew, except for the two men flanking the bay door they had entered through.
The ship landed, and for a moment Carrick considered bolting for the exit, but he needed the cash too much. A few more men trickled into the bay and Carrick decided to go ask the men at the entrance when exactly they would find out where they were going.
Before he could make it to the exit, the men at the entrance looked at a pad, and nodded to each other. One of them tapped a code into the computer, and a forcefield appeared.
Carrick muttered an expletive, and before he could try to run anywhere, the bay door began to shut.
The lights went out, and the last thing he remembered was the hissing sound of gas filling the bay.
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Carrick O'Sullivan
Abducted
Carrick O'Sullivan
Abducted