Miami Pete 2:

"Get the Haul-o-caster prepped for passengers, we've got two coming with us for the flight out. And get the engines started warming, we'll leave as soon as we're aboard.  We are on our way, ETA thirty minutes" came Pete's staticy voice over my comm earpiece.  Comm signals don't reach inside the engines very easily, so the static wasn't surprising. What was surprising was the rush. If Pete had found us a load, surely it would take some time to deliver, then load into Hauley's cargo bay. Usually it takes a few hours before we are ready for liftoff. While we do host passengers sometimes, usually it's when we get a job hauling cargo to somewhere. While we are waiting for delivery and are loading up, Pete puts a notice out on whatever kind of advert net the spaceport we are at has and if someone wants to go where we are delivering cargo, they contact us for our passenger rates.  I don't like hosting passengers. People who can afford to travel like that are usually self-absorbed and demanding. I'm the ship's mechanic, not "the help", and certainly NOT the entertainment neither vertical NOR horizontal.

"Roger roger" I reply. No sense in trying to argue. Pete's the boss.

I secured the panel I had opened, then double and triple checked it. You'll see no sloppy work from me! Then I ran... well scrambled anyway since there is no way to stand up enough to actually run inside the engine, and climb down the ladder.  I had been inside the port engine's conversion chamber checking out the containment grid. All shiny new, it was pretty. At the bottom of the ladder I hit the collapse button collapsing it down to its folded size for storage and headed in the airlock.

The power up went better than it ever had in my experience. The engines came on line smoothly and much more quietly than usual. I'm struck again with how good the work from the station crew was. Real pro's them, wish I could buy that crew a round of drinks, they certain deserve them, but it wasn't to be since we were leaving.  Oh well, perhaps next time around. We get back to this station... Well, I don't really know where we were but surely we'd be back... eventually? While the engines were warming up I hit the showers real quick since we were still on station water.  We would detach from station utilities when we left, and showers would be fewer and further between while we were out there in the blackness between stations. Gotta take advantage when you can is what I always say. Normally having been inside an engine like that a shower wouldn't have been optional. As it was, my jumpsuit was barely soiled. I got out a fresh one anyway. For better or worse, we were going to have guests. Must look my bestest.

"It's pillow fluffing time!" I say to myself... Don't ask...  Just    Don't...

With that, and an "ear on" the engines which I could still barely hear, I did a quick once-over of the passenger quarters. I did both the VIP quarters, and a couple racks in the "economy" quarters since Pete hadn't specified which kind of passengers we were getting.  It was quick since I always kept everything clean and ready to go. A far cry from how Pete kept everything before I came aboard. I can tell Pete likes how I keep Hauley looking nice, even if it took him a while to get used to.

Good to his word, thirty minutes later Pete arrives, a pair of robed figures in tow. They looked like some kind of monks, or priests, or something. I looked for any holy symbol or marking that would tell me who they were but found nothing.  VIPs, definitely. No way I'm going to put a preacher-man in anything but VIP. Besides, I have the hatches on the VIP suites secretly rigged so that I can lock them down from the outside just in case. I'm not sayin these monks are bad guys or anything, but where I grew up a kid that was taken by the priests was never seen again. Kinda does some structural damage to one's ability to trust the clergy if you know what I'm sayin.

My paranoia aside, the engines had been ready ten minutes after I started them, a record I was sure, and spent the rest of the time on standby. Pete got on the horn and requested detach procedures while I was getting the... whatever they are... buckled in and manned my station. I'd never seen Pete in such a hurry to leave a place that had a pub.

"Are you going to declare a flight plan Mr. Miami?" came the raspy, oddly accented question from what had mentally named "boss monk". I don't know anything about monks, but I assumed one would be the boss while the other one was... not?  Who knew, religion is weird. Boss monk seemed to be in charge because the "other monk" seemed to be deferring to him. Didn't mean I was going to turn my back on either of them.

"No, no need. A flight plan isn't a legal requirement, it's more of a safety thing. Where we're going I don't think you want to be part of the permanent record." Pete replied.

That got me worried. Where could we possibly be going? I couldn't decipher that from what I'd heard so far, and Pete doesn't take well to questions so I held my tongue. It did tell me that boss monk wasn't very familiar with space travel. Flight Plan... that's a funny one. Nobody files a flight plan anymore. Well, maybe colonists. Colonists are weird.

I could see Pete working on calculating a hyper-jump. So far, these new engines were running incredibly well. We'd soon see how they would handle hyper-jump. If what I’d seen so far was any indication, we were in for a treat.

As soon as we were far enough away from the spaceport, Pete started the countdown "Hyper-jump calculations set, jumping in three... two... one..."

Hyper-jump is like nothing you could possibly imagine until you have experienced it firsthand. All the euphemisms and descriptions fall short. It's like all of that, only more so. Some people describe it as being lightly tickled until your entire body turns inside out... in the most pleasant way possible. Have you ever had your scalp fall asleep? You know, like your foot does if you sit on it too long? Only it's your scalp... and your... um girl or boy parts (whichever you may have) also falling asleep. All while sitting in a soothing warm bath, getting punched in the stomach from the inside, and hitting some REALLY good relaxer drugs so your whole body goes limp?  Yea, like that... all of it... only more.

I'm pretty sure boss monk wet himself, or worse. Then other monk threw up. Sigh... what's one more mess to clean up?  Then we were there... wherever "there" was.

I did a quick look-over of the engineering board and surprisingly, for the first time ever, we were all green lights. huh... I would have sworn that was impossible. "All green boss" I told Pete, then went to get the mop bucket. Stupid monks.

When I returned with the mop, the monks were gone. "They've gone to lie down." Pete said when he saw me looking for them.  "We've got a couple weeks of real-space before we reach a valid hyper-jump spot for where we are heading. It's a good thing that the station has a jump-point for here so close. We wouldn't have gotten away otherwise."

That brought me up short. Gotten away from what? Pete seemed to be in a talkative mood - for him anyway - so I kept quiet hoping he would say more.

"Good work on keeping the ship up and running kid. Maybe the new engines have a little to do with it, but she's running like a top, and that's not all just engines."

Now I was scared. Pete was never the complementary type.