Scribbles and Drabbles

Cabin Rat 2

"Wake up, brat," a voice made him jump.

He'd been napping in one of the shafts. Not entirely by choice. The noise in the engine room was getting louder as some of the crew used it for a poker night. They would be making port in a few hours and people were trying to get as many spare credits as possible. Which involved a lot of yelling as the crew members lost more than they were intending to. And then brawling because of it. Really Peter had tried to ignore it all for about an hour before squeezing into the vents and hunting for a more quiet area to rest in. The dorms weren't much better. Even the younger members of the crew were being loud tonight, protesting the fact the crew weren't letting them off like their older colleagues. Some limp excuse for their safety was the reason.

Personally, Peter suspected the crew didn't want to lose their cheap labour. Silly for a kid to get lost or run away if the Captain let them off the ship while they were at port. Another point in the pros for escaping while he was able to. Being trapped on the husk of metal until the crew deemed him old enough to leave again was not his idea of a good time. Someone had mentioned getting a tattoo being allowed off the ship. Pirates were known to brand their toys.

All of which led to him resting where he was. His vision was blurred as he rubbed at his eyes to clear them. As it cleared up, the Cook of all people looking at him with an odd look in his ear. Panic rolled through Peter for a brief moment before the situation became clearer. The man had an arm and his head in the shaft but there was no way he was getting any further in. The man noticed this and reached forward fast. Peter flinched backwards, hitting his head on a metal pipe.

The cook grinned at the curse Peter gave. It wasn't particularly a happy grin, bemusement filled his eyes. The man-made no more moves to grab him, despite the arm he had in the shaft being long enough to reach him. Assuming Peter stayed still like a nincompoop. He wasn't a nincompoop.

"Careful, Jim will wash your wash with soap if he catches you cursing," he warned, hand flicking at some of the switches, resetting a subroutine. The hum of the electronics shifted. "Might even do it while the Captains taking the skin of your backside off to make the point."

He said nothing, watching the action with wide eyes. Maintenance shafts were called that for a reason. The vents might have been safer but they were noisier when the crew was like this. Peter wanted some decent rest before the events of the day unfolded. He rubbed his head unhappily where he'd hit it against the pipes. The pain wasn't going away.

"Feel like surrendering?"

Peter shook his head, heart pounding. The vents were close. He could slip into them.

"How about a name."

He didn't bother shaking his head for that one.

The cook hummed, eyes flicking over to where he'd been fiddling to check over something. "Jimbo reckons you're using the holes around the engine room. Bit of a ruckus in there tonight so I say it's a fair bet. When we land, you don't want to be there. Engine doesn't like landing on a planet. It gets hot. Stick out of there and the vents. Got it?"

Could be a trap. But then the engine wasn't the one meant for this ship. It would make sense that there were issues with a planet landing. Most ships weren't designed to land once they were out in space. The vents were big enough that the heat would funnel through them. Only the shafts and the holes would be safe from the burning heat depending on how hot they were talking. Why the cook was telling him was a bit more of a mystery.