The Captain

The terminal screen emitted a gentle hum as he scrolled through page after page of titles in the library of the computer. He knew he could tap in a search term and narrow the selection a little, but he was trying to kill some time. He’d found himself trying to put space between him and the rest of the crew happening more and more often recently.

The blue-white screen glare illuminated his face in the murky dimness of his quarters. When you think starship captain you imagine luxury and grandeur — and that may be true of some of the larger cruisers — but a small junkers vessel had none of that. His cabin was much the same as the rest of the crews, a 5” by 7” box with a bunk, a couple of square lockers for personal effects, and a longer cupboard/wardrobe/thing for clothing, equipment, and anything else you could cram inside. The only ‘luxuries’ he gained as captain were a mirror and washbasin that allowed him to ‘freshen up’ with a degree of privacy, and the personal terminal he was currently staring glassy-eyed at desperately hoping to find some answers. The low drone of the engines purred away in the background, mimicking his current mood.

He thought he’d gotten on ok with everyone before the accident, but there were definitely some that had come to resent his sudden promotion. It was, after all, an accident. A routine salvage job. He and Hawkins, the previous captain, were making their way back to the ship. The wreck that they were stripping had taken hull damage in several places so they’d had to wear full-face breathing gear that made them look like some kind of intergalactic fish. It hadn't been very interesting as jobs go, the place had been deserted for some time and they weren't the first to come across the wreck, but hey, “any scrap is good scrap,” as Hawkins used to say.

They were crossing the wrecked hanger, almost to the airlock, when, due to his restricted vision, he’d tripped on a stupid piece of junk. Reaching out for something to prevent him hitting the steel decking face first, he’d inadvertently grabbed hold of a dangling control switch. As the release mechanism clicked under his grasp, it proceeded to rain down a hefty shipment of unused cargo containers right where Hawkins was standing. He was crushed.

The ceiling lights in the cabin flickered momentarily and snapped him back to the task at hand. Hundreds of years worth of self-help books, surely there had to be something in here that could enable him to get through to the others. Losing their captain was one thing, but for the guy responsible to take over? A lot of trust had been burned that day. He wished he were more like Hawkins.

Being in the middle of deep space at the time, the role of captain had to go to someone, and he just happened to be the longest-serving member aboard. He was it, just like that. The rest of the crew went along with it but he knew they were biding their time till the next station stop-off. He also got the impression a couple of the others thought he’d done it on purpose, but he couldn’t bear to entertain the idea for long.

The weeks following Hawkins death had been rough. He’d been overcome with guilt on more than one occasion, crying himself to sleep, and then feeling ashamed for doing so. It was just an accident. He kept telling himself Hawkins wouldn’t have wanted to be remembered like this. It was up to him now. He had to keep the ship going. To remember him.

He’d been on board ‘Old Joanna’ — named after Hawkins ex-wife — for a couple of years now. The pay was decent, ish, but it was Hawkins himself that had persuaded him to stick around for so long. The man had been pure charisma, all smiles and enthusiasm but with a twinkle in his eye that made you think he knew something you didn’t. Everyone that came on board was his new best friend, they just didn’t know it yet. He’d felt, dare he say it, at home.

“Stand-by systems in 30 minutes,” said the chirpy robotic voice of the shipboard computer, reminding him it was nearing time for bed. Even the computer commands more respect than I do, he thought with a sigh. His shoulders slumped further down, his hand cradling his sullen chin. He idly scanned another page of titles with a mixture of boredom and frustration. Maybe this was a waste of time, what did he expect to find anyway?

The irony of this whole mess was he’d never wanted to be a captain in the first place. Sure, plenty of kids grow up imagining themselves at the helm of some enormous destroyer or leading a band of misfits on elaborate adventures, but not him. At 16 his parents had shipped him off to the academy of the United Galactic Fleet in an attempt to instil some solid upstanding values in him. But after a couple of years, the novelty had worn thin and he’d become bored by the endless rules and procedures. And the ironing. God, the ironing. After a brief run-in with one of his instructors, he decided once and for all, it wasn’t for him, packed a bag, and walked out the following day. Since then he’d hopped from one junker crew to the next. Everyone did it, as soon as a better contract popped up, off you went to meet your new ‘family’. But then he’d met Hawkins.

Their meeting was almost completely by chance. He was due to start work for another crew that he’d worked with previously, but they’d hit a spot of local trouble and taken off in a hurry. That left him stranded trying to explain to station security why he was wandering around the hanger bays with no ship to board. Then, as if by some crazy space magic, Hawkins appeared. Strolled right up to him, put an arm around his shoulder and spun some tale to the guards about how he’d been looking for him all over, and to hurry back to Old Joanna.

Clank, clank, clank, came the sound of boots on metal as someone wandered down the hallway from the dining area, followed by a distant hissss-thunk as another cabin shut for the night. While he reached for the switch to shut down his terminal he thought about having to face the crew again in the morning. He wanted so badly for them to just like him, to be his family again. Then, as his finger came to rest on the switch, he hesitated. A title at the bottom of the screen caught his attention “How to win friends and influence people,” he read aloud. This, this is what I need he thought. Feeling a rush of nervous excitement, he clicked on the entry and started to read.