“Space, the final frontier of man-kind, an infinitely expanding field of darkness that stretches on and on forever; almost like some kind of sheet being unfurled through the fields of stars out in front of one’s eyes. They say that mankind was always looking to the stars and dreamed of new worlds, riches and the very thought that we, are not alone. What a crop of shit.” A male stated as he spoke into a small device in his hands; casually, moving through the halls as the box like device, only slightly smaller than his hand recorded what he was saying. His mind on other things than his job, mopping the floors, at the moment; this was only the end of his first month in space and he admitted that the experience was a bit…lackluster for his tastes.
“Back on the farm, Dad was always talking about how space was some great big treasure trove waiting to be harvested; that all had to do to get in on it was simply dive in. Humans have been up here for thousands of years though, so who knows what’s left. I should have been thinking of that before I decided to leave home and take this job. Mom would always roll her eyes whenever he talked about space, said it was a fool’s dream and that there was nothing up there, but the namesake. I was just a stupid kid though, mystified by the stories of treasure, women and opportunity that would never present itself back on Earth.” He paused for a moment, turning the device over in his hands, looking down at the visible grinding gears on the inside; then back down to the bucket of suds and the mop situated next to him on the floor. “Now that I’m up here, I know better. It’s been a month and I’ve got nothing to show for it but an empty wallet and a third-rate job working as a swabbie abroad a second-rate trading vessel: “The Thespian”, they call it, mainly because the small sleek frame of the ship belittles the sheer amount of fire power it can pump out.”
The swabbie moved around, looking out one of the many portholes that lined the side of the wall of the arched hallway he happened to be in. Ceiling stretching about four feet above his head, which he could touch if he just jumped up a little bit; still, he found the place to be a bit cramped, mainly due to the narrowness of the corridor. It could probably only fit two people walking side by side in it and it was his job to make sure the damn thing was cleaned daily, as it was the most traversed region of the ship; seeing as it was the only way to access the rear end of the ship where the escape pods, bathrooms and the sleeping quarters were located. Shaking his head once again, the swabbie rubbed the back of his neck, rubbing at the barcode tattoo he remembered getting on his seventeenth birthday. It was strange, he never found anything particular attractive about the design, but something struck him on that day that made him want to get it; now it was permanently etched into his skin. That day, he could remember it so vividly, the feeling of a needle sinking lightly into the back of his neck; the burn of it at the back of his neck growing and the intense pain for the first few moments. As the smell of ink lingered in the back of his mind, he casually moved away from the point he had been standing moments again, ending up at the other wall in two steps.
“I should have listened to Mom and realized that Dad was just another coot trying to convince everyone how great space was, when there is really nothing special about it. Humanity spent eons gazing up into an empty plane for no reason, other than they hoped that somewhere out in this vast emptiness, that there was a place better than the shit-hole that the Earth has become.” Shaking his head once again, the swabbie moved around cutting the recorder off and shoving it into his pocket when a loud beep over the intercom echoed through the tube through the speaker placed on the ceiling. “Great, just what I need, boss man pissed at me.”
The Swabbie and Captain Sorisan never saw eye to eye much; though they generally respected each other’s opinions well enough, Sorisan was always pulling rank on him when they had their usual disagreements over the political situation through the tri-galaxy region. It was a bit of an annoyance when he had to admit defeat just because the boss man could fire him for not agreeing with them. Bowing his head as the white-noise grew louder, the screech pounding through his eardrums as it grew into a rancor; the captain seriously needed to learn how to handle the intercom, maybe if he wasn’t so stuck in the future and would learn how to run some of the tried and true methods, this wouldn’t be such a problem, but no, he had to be tech junky spending all of his time surfing the Galactic Internet and spending his time fantasizing over owning a world ship one day, fat chance on his salary though. Gazing back up towards the intercom, the noise finally subsided and the Captain began to speak once more.
“Swabbie! Get the lead out of your pants and start mopping the floors, I’m not paying you to sit around on your ass and talk to yourself! Now get moving, we’re going to be having some visitors on the ship tonight and I want this place spotless from top to bottom, you got that!?” The intercom continued to run for a few seconds, the screech returning with the triumphant roar while the Swabbie stood there with his eyebrow raised. Glancing back and forth over the hall, he let out a small sigh and proceeded to pull out the mop from the bucket of suds and began to wipe it slowly over the small dirt and mud stains that had grown across the floor, marring the appearance of the sleek silver flooring against the black walls as he pulled the floating platform where the bucket was sitting and dipped down beginning to scrub the fifteen meter long hall; his motions slow and strong across the stains as he aimed to get them all out as quickly as possible. Still, it was a bit of annoyance to go through with this just because they were supposed to be receiving some special guest.
“Gang-way Swabbie and get your head out of your ass for once!” A gruff voice rang out, echoing through the halls with a sort of metallic clang as the Swabbie could just barely manage to turn around before being shoved to the floor by the being that just spoke. Normally, the swabbie would have just taken it lying down, getting back up to clean as the offender would have already moved on, but this time, the offender was still hovering over him; glaring down with feral eyes of amber pinpointed downward towards his throat.
“Weapon’s manager Faulkner, what an unpleasant surprise.” The Swabbie stated, hatred in his voice as he stood up and perched himself just under the alien’s head; looking at the match up, one wouldn’t be remiss for thinking that the Swabbie was being a bit too head-strong for his own good. Faulkner was standing at least a good two feet taller than he was and appeared like a beast from mythology rather than an alien life-form. His body, at least what was visible through the light grey trading post uniform and the navy blue slacks he was wearing, was covered in bright yellow fur, patches of glowing green stretching up the sides of his arms and across his tiger-like forehead. At the moment, his feline ears were pinned backwards, making up a good portion of the top of his head, before the upper-half of his lips peeled back revealing the tops of his elongated canines. Glaring downward, Faulkner’s massive ape-like forearms bulged with sinews of muscle, each of them pulsing lightly as blood flow focused there. His lower portion meanwhile stood relaxed, both he and the Swabbie standing with their chests out, sizing each other up in their standoff, despite the fact that Faulkner’s head was looking directly down into the Swabbie’s defiant face. “You should oil the hinges on your jaw Faulkner, they look like they’re starting to jam.”
The crude statement brought a gleam of amusement from the creatures eyes, his humanoid like jaw having been replaced with a mechanical equivalent, winding servos moved back and forth, while a few lights clicked on and off on the side as it prepared to move, allowing the creature to speak. “You are lucky you are the captain’s favorite swabbie; otherwise I would have tossed you out the air lock during your first week on board.” Faulkner turned around at that, his entire body easily double the width of the Swabbies and took up most of the room in the tunnel before he moved out; still, all the Swabbie could focus on were the bear claws of hands that the weapon’s manager possessed and the three serpents that emerged from his backside, each moving of their own accord and staring at him with their long black tongues flickering back and forth. Each of them all seeming to say the same thing at once, "don’t worry kiddo, we’ll devour you some day." The Swabbie shivered in spite of himself and returned to work.
It took about an hour, but the hallway was spotless by the time he had finished, the floors glistening in their polished shine. He had painstakingly maneuvered through the hall and managed to get every nook and carny of the place clean and now he knew they were clean enough to eat off of. Chuckling to himself and dusting off his red palms; he heard a loud screech coming from the sleeping quarters, some men shouting about something, though that could be anything from a poker game to a minor despite over whose turn it was to use the community computer. That’s when the only words he didn’t want to hear uttered rang clear through his ears, his eyes widening in horror as he watched the doors open and a jiggling mass of bright purple gunk came rolling through the door. Complete with only a single eyeball in the center of the mass, the jelly-like blob known as a Gulgadon proceeded to rush through the hall rolling quickly through it as the spherical shape of its body allowed it to do so. Behind it, two humans ran after him shouting as loudly as they could, all the while holding up a large silver platter. “Rorsh! You forgot your travel pad, you’re making a mess everywhere!”
The Swabbie looked down at the floor, his hand’s now shaking in frustration and rage as he saw the long purple trail of slime across the floor; trailing all the way from one end of the hallway to the next. Stooping down, his hands quivering for a moment, he poked the gunk with a pocket knife and found it to be even worse than gum now that it had solidified on the floor in the less time than it took for him to even process what had just happened. Gritting his teeth in frustration; the male leaned back against his mop and rang it out to get all the filth from his previous cleaning into his extra bucket before looking back at the new mess in front of him, pondering what he should do next.
A. Follow the Captain’s Orders and make sure the hall is completely clean for the ‘visitors’
