Here is a line for those who like to note if they are First Time Readers (FTR) or Re-Readers (RR).



I wiped sweat away from my eyes as I tightened the last bolt into place. It was hot under this thing... I rolled out from under the large sewing machine and tried to shake the solid steel contraption, but it didn't even budge. And with the bolts I used, the sewing machine will die of old age before those bolts come loose.

I put my tools back in my belt pouch and stood up. "There you go," I said. "I fixed the gears and bolted it securely to the wall, so it should be good to go."

The nearby seamstress glanced up from the leggings she was hemming and replied, "Thank you, Rachel. I asked Maintenance to come look at it about a week ago because I thought it was loose, but Steve was too busy, and I know he is the only one in that area since he doesn't have any assistants at the moment. I didn't think it would actually fall off the wall, or I would have added that detail to the repair request."

Busy. Right. Busy playing pool with Mack all day instead of doing their jobs. Steve's last assistant had quit, and he hadn't bothered finding another one since Mack let him assign small things to me. The Captain only saw that things were getting done, so he never looked any deeper than that.

Technically, minor repairs like this were supposed to be done by the Maintenance group, not someone from the Cargo Bay. I kept my expression polite and friendly. "No problem. Glad I could help. I know the engine thrusters have been acting up intermittently, so Steve is probably trying to locate the problem."

"That is probably it. Since you are here, could you take a look at the light fixture in the fabric room? The far light only turns on about quarter of the time, and I really do need it to ensure I grab the right color."

This is nowhere in my job description... "Sure. I can take a look."

I headed to the correct room while the seamstress started checking all the settings on the sewing machine I had just fixed. This may have been a hundred light-years away from my official tasks in the Cargo Bay, but I was not about to voice a complaint or let them even think that I resented doing the tasks they assigned.

It was far better to do minor repairs or small fixes for the general crew members than to have to deal with the Cargo Bay Overseer, Mack. He was a bit of a jerk at times and preferred to avoid work if he could. Although to give him credit, he is always more than happy to attend the meetings, and he is like a kid in a candy store whenever he has a reason to use the Cargo Bay crane.

Steve was just as lazy as Mack. Steve tended to let others do the small stuff whenever possible, although he personally did all of the Maintenance work tickets submitted by the Captain, Officers, or anyone who worked in the Bridge to gain favor. That still only comes up to a grand total of a couple dozen people... Leaving me to try and help out the other 180 crew as well as manage my own duties as a Cargo Bay assistant.

By myself, I could never get the wait times below five days, simply because my true duties took priority. Had Steve actually done any of the tickets on the days I was unable to help him, we could have caught up fairly easily.

I propped a ladder beneath the misbehaving light as I dismissed my internal complaints. We were in the middle of a voyage, and my help in the Cargo Bay was really only needed when we were docked or moving trade goods between the various holding bays. At the moment, I didn't actually have any work left that fell within my duties - and I hated being bored.

I removed the screws and let the light fixture dangle on the supporting chain that all lights on spaceships were required to have. I pulled out my favorite gadget, a handheld device called an Analyzer, and I was very glad that I had spent my own money on this better model.

The advanced piece of equipment made my life so much easier. I pressed a few buttons on the device that was twice as large as my hand and held it close to the light fixture. A red scanning light tested the fixture before an image and words appeared on the display screen.

I had also paid for much better software on my model, even though spaceship policy required my Overseer to provide basic software and schematics free of charge.

It had originally been a precaution on my part, but now I was fervently glad that I had done so. The device was worth its weight in astrogold in my current tasks. A quick glance at the screen told me which wires had to be spliced, and if more help was needed, it also had links leading to various tutorials.

I had needed those tutorials a lot in the beginning, but I had fixed this exact same problem a dozen times already. Basic and intermediate maintenance of objects outside of the Cargo Bay was not covered anywhere in my three years of schooling...I should really write that university an anonymous letter letting them know that their classes on Cargo Bay duties did not prepare me for replacing the cooling elements on the artificial gravity capacitors. That would have them scratching their heads...

It took me only moments to fix the light. I opened up the work ticket on my Analyzer and marked it as fixed before closing the ticket. I left the room and saw that the seamstress was already trying to catch up on the work that had been put on hold by her previously-inoperable machine. "I fixed the light. Anything else?"

Politeness was a necessity aboard a spaceship where room was at a minimum. This spaceship was one of the cargo haulers that were built for speed across large distances as it carried time-sensitive trade goods. Most of the room on this spaceship was dedicated to holding bays and storage areas that were packed too full for people to easily move through.

Besides, I had nothing against the seamstress. She had been polite, even though her work ticket had been sitting for weeks on end without a response. She was just happy that it had been fixed. It was crew members like these that I was actually happy to help.

She smiled happily at me. "Thank you so much, Rachel! It may have been a small thing, but it was a nuisance. No, I can't think of anything else. Enjoy your evening."

"You too." I left her work area and pulled out my Analyzer once more to ensure that there were no urgent work tickets or emergencies. As per usual, the Cargo Bay list was empty of all work tickets. With a sigh, I opened up the Maintenance list. A couple hundred low priority tickets were open, but there was nothing with a medium priority ranking or higher.

The clock showed that my shift was over in five minutes, so I headed back to the Cargo Bay to check in with Mack and ensure nothing else needed to be done. He would have contacted me via my communication device if anything had come up, but it was still policy and protocol.

I reached the main Cargo Bay loading dock just as he was leaving his office.

"Hey Mack, anything left that needs to be done?"

"Nah, mid-voyage is dead boring. Always is. See ya tomorrow, Rookie."

"Sounds good." I headed down a different corridor. As far as potential bosses went, Mack was far from the worst, even if he was nowhere near the top of the ideal boss list. His disorganization allowed me a lot of freedom in how I handled my duties.

Technically, he was also responsible for ensuring that I didn't get pulled into doing too many other duties for other areas or groups, but considering his best friend was Steve, he turned a blind eye to anything I was asked to help with in the Maintenance area. It was only when we were docked that he ensured I was on hand to do the majority of the work.

I headed to the library, although to call a room with just computers and one bookshelf a library was a bit of a misnomer. I sat at a computer with my back against the wall so that no one else could see my screen.

I checked my personal interspace account. A quick scan of my board showed that no one had left me any messages or attempted to contact me. My brother knew when I was off shift, so he wouldn't bother until then, and he would contact me via my personal computer in my room. But the lack of messages also meant that no one had been interested in the many resumes and applications I filled out and submitted regularly.

It was really easy to get into the large galactic universities to train for numerous careers among the spaceships, but getting a job on board one was an entirely different story, and it was a bit harder due to me being a woman. I had started submitting resumes the instant I entered university and continued doing so throughout all three years of my schooling.

There had been only one inquiry during all that time. That interview had made me so nervous that I had done extensive research on the spaceship and went through every scrap of information I could find before walking into that meeting. It was a good thing too; I had almost certainly been hired since I had expressed no interest in what we were hauling, even though it was a standard question for those in my job area to ask in case we needed additional safety training for potentially hazardous materials.

I always took care to never examine any of the shipping labels, only looking at the codes stamped onto the side of a crate when I had to find or move a crate. An official trading spaceship like this had to go through too many inspections to ever risk hauling something seriously illegal, like death phasers or compulsion smokeweed.

The small boxes of 'supplies' that casually wandered on board with only a handwritten waybill were things I turned a blind eye to as I moved them wherever I was instructed to. They almost certainly contained things that were in the grey area of the importing regulations, or they possibly contained things only banned on certain planets, which we may or may not have been scheduled to visit.

I looked up as Cynthia walked in and waved at her. She plopped down at the computer station beside me with a smile. "Hi Rachel, how is it going?"

I shrugged as I replied, "Boring, as per usual. How was your day?"

Cynthia had always been an enthusiastic and optimistic person since the day I first came onto this ship. We had hit it off as friends right away. She grinned at me. "The strawberries are back on track, and we should have some ready by tomorrow. Although it will probably be a day or two before they grace the main dining area."

In other words, the high ranking crew members get first dibs. I smirked at her. "So the fertilizer regulator was to blame after all?"

She lightly swatted my shoulder in jest. "Smart-aleck. That is my best guess, although Steve had scanned it previously and nothing was wrong."

I simply failed to see why someone in charge of Maintenance would use the cheap Analyzers provided free of charge by the spaceship they were on. My Analyzer had told a different story. I dared not talk down someone in a superior position though, even if they were not present. I needed my job for at least three more years before I could potentially transfer into one of the five big intergalactic companies.

I shrugged. "Perhaps it was just starting to go and I scanned it when it was acting up."

Both of us knew the truth, but neither of us could say it out loud for the same reasons. The fact that every spaceship had dozens of sensors and audio pickups in every public room and corridor was another detail that we could not afford to forget. In the event of an emergency or a pirate attack, they were supposedly meant to locate the crew members or pirates. The surveillance worked equally well to keep tabs on the crew for any discontent.

Cynthia checked her own account and sighed. "Still no luck."

I patted her shoulder sympathetically. "Look at the bright side. You can apply to one of the intergalactic companies in three months."

She perked up at that thought. There were five massive intergalactic companies that had partitioned the settled areas of known space into five different 'territories'. They were forever at odds with one another and refused to let any of the others onto their 'turf'.

I cautioned her. "Just remember to only apply to one of them."

She stuck out her tongue at me. "I am not that stupid. Besides, all of my family is smack dab in the middle of the WayFarer Company's boundaries, and I want to visit them regularly."

Despite their inability to get along, all five companies required any applicants to have at least five years' experience. Anyone who applied early was considered unable to follow instructions, which would count against them even if they applied later on with the required years of work experience.

It was no small secret that each company had someone who was able to hack into the intergalactic hiring system to ensure that the applicant had not applied to the other four companies and thus would be a 'loyal' crew member on one of their many spaceships.

I had been on the Tyndel for two years now, and I hoped to keep my head down for at least another three years. It still wouldn't be easy to get into such a company, one that paid more than minimum wage, but I had not been having any better luck with other privately-owned spaceships. There was a chance that I would need this job for many more years yet.

Cynthia signed off and stood up while holding her hand out. "Let's go see what the cooks managed to cook up in the way of supper today."

I reluctantly took her hand and let her pull me to my feet. Sometimes, even my advanced Analyzer wasn't sure what to make of the food that was occasionally served in the areas where low-ranking crew members like us ate.



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Author's Note:

I am currently in the process of polishing this story for Amazon. The rough draft will remain free on several sites such as Royal Road, Inkitt, etc.

Copyright © 2018. People may use my 'world' to create fanfics/spinoffs as long as proper credit is given (ex. Inspired by CrystalScherer's story A Starship Called Starsong). Please note that this does not allow you to copy my story - this allows you to use my world-building and the Starships in spinoffs/fanfics with credit given.

Sorry, no translations are allowed.

Thank you for your time. Happy Reading! 💖