Author's note: Well, look at that. Another one, and after I promised not to. I'm such a bad boy I need to be tied up and spanked.
I said I probably wouldn't write any more of these because I had run out of ideas.
Well: Come the idea, ejaculate the story.
#
In the quiet of the control room, a gentle glow drifting from the instrument panel reassured the air that everything was fine: The life-support systems were well within operational parameters, navigation was not detectably incorrect at this distance to destination, and the pilot was located and monitored.
In the corridors, darkness was relieved only by light filtering in from either end.
In the pilot's quarters, the unmade bed was quietly attracting demerit points every half hour.
In the gymnasium, inarticulate grunting mingled with the ripe smell of exertion and the whirring of the machines as Jade worked towards mandated targets.
The Wolfhound was on its way to a remote frontier, carrying the most precious and most compact of supplies - a complete medications library, a synthesiser, and a wide selection of backup medications.
The world it was heading towards had been settled out of the necessity to have a ground-based staging post in a mineral-rich system, not because it was a desirable place to live.
It was Company policy that all pilots headed to frontier worlds were held to elevated fitness and strength standards. The fact Jade was on this run at all was thanks to a fitness clearance she had highly disagreed with.
It meant she was pushed harder every day, and the exercises left her so tired she was barely able to use her quota of recreational time.
It was hard to be aroused when all the oxygen in your blood was being sent to your muscles, which were burning.
In her sour moments of down-time, she thought nasty thoughts about management doing it deliberately in order to keep her frustrated.
She had tried to argue the computer into combining recreation and exercise, but it was being unusually implacable, even for it.
So, most of her sessions on the machines she wanted to use were short and unsatisfying. She just didn't have the energy left to last long enough to have fun.
She was barely even swearing throughout the exercises, which satisfied the computer's simple parameters.
She did, however, have a high-G kickboxing session scheduled for later that day, and a longer than usual rest before it, and was looking forward to that. At least she would be able to work out some aggression, even if she couldn't work out any frustration.
Behind her head, deliberately out of view, a strip-meter was well into the green range as her targeted performance improvements were outstripped by her actual performance improvements.
The computer wasn't allowed to tell her this - it was company policy that any personnel on a performance improvement curve were driven hard without knowing the goalposts or where they were in relation to them.
That didn't make Jade feel any better but, as nobody responsible for the policy had ever been a pilot, it didn't surprise her much either.
There was a beep to indicate the end of a rep. The machines gradually faded down to no resistance, then neatly folded themselves away. Jade slumped, her arms and pectorals burning and sweat glistening dully in the flat lighting, and tried to get back to normal breathing.
Another beep and a sign flashing on the wall told her to run through the post-exercise stretching.
With a snarl, she slid to the floor and started.
#
In the control room, a console that had been showing a constant blank screen for a month developed a blip on one side a split second before a piercing siren began playing throughout the entire craft.
Jade, who was lying on the gymnasium floor with her ankles spread in a perfect 180-degree split, hips on the floor and her legs directly out to the side, swore more out of disbelief than irritation.
"SHUT THAT FUCKING THING OFF!"
The computer didn't even bother primly pointing out it was merely trying to get her attention, and that finally shocked her into action.
She was running when she hit the gym door and left gravity, soaring up towards the ceiling and using the momentum to get grip to catapult her towards the next door and the stretch towards the bridge.
The radar screen was flashing for attention as she flew through the bridge door.
She floated in mid-air, staring in disbelief.
An SOS? Out here? Where the fuck did that come from?
"Ship? What the fuck?"
"The signal is of Company origin, Jade."
"The Company has lost a ship and didn't know where it was?"
The ship was silent.
"Ship, are you fucking telling me this is common?"
"I said nothing, Jade."
"I know you fucking didn't, that's the fucking problem."
The ship was silent again.
"Right, what's the fucking protocol?"
"You are required to dock and investigate, Jade."
Jade was silent herself this time, breathing slowly and deliberately.
"You are required ..."
"Shut the fuck up, I heard you. Alright, change course. I'm going to take a shower."
She stripped off her exercise clothing on the way to the bathroom, where she scrubbed her naked body violently, trying to work out her anger at the Company and its fucked-up greediness.
Cargo ships do not take kindly to changing course or speed, and generally need prior notice. The Wolfhound complained constantly as it was forced to curve around towards the emergency beacon.
When it finally docked, Jade was even more annoyed, but at least there had been time for her to get some energy back.
Her regulation overalls went over regulation underwear, and her rarely-used regulation spacesuit over that.
She had a sidearm. She had been trying to forget about that. In her experience, even on the stations where sidearms were legal (fuck knows why), she could cripple any assailant faster than she could draw a gun. But, she was going into a potentially dangerous situation. So, she was required to carry the sidearm.
"The sidearm must be holstered at all times unless required."
"What the fuck? Are you telling me I don't know what's in there and I can't go in pointing a gun in front of me?"
"That is correct."
"Then why the fuck do I have it?"
"Regulations, Jade."
"Fuck regulations."
"I am required to give you demerit points, Jade."
"Fuck the regulations, fuck you, and fuck your demerit points."
Company cargo ships have flexible docking tubes for ship-to-ship contact in space. The Wolfhound's had never been used, and Jade had a flash of worry that it wouldn't work after so long, but her cynicism about Company maintenance checks was apparently not justified.
After the tube sealed around the other ship's airlock, Jade manually plugged a probe into the airlock door and waited, impatiently, until her ship had run an atmosphere check.
"The life-support systems appear to be functioning correctly, Jade. There are no particulates detected, and the atmosphere is of correct composition and pressure."
"No sound?"
"There is no indication of life aboard."
"Well, fuck."
The airlock opened. Jade floated inside. The airlock door shut. The airlock filled with atmosphere.
The inner airlock door opened.
The lights were on, and there appeared to be no particular mess or damage.
Jade warily looked up and down the corridor. "Jade, proceed to the medbay."
"Want to fucking tell me why?"
The computer was silent.
Cursing it under her breath, Jade headed off down the corridor.
The pilot was in the medbay.
She was naked, and mummified. There were no obvious external signs of injury.
"Want to tell me what she died of?"
"The records are unclear. It may have been coronary failure or a stroke. Automated attempts to revive the pilot were not appear successful. There was no record of illness prior to this."
"Please run another air test."
"I have been running continuous testing. There still appear to be no particulates in the air. Screening at atomic scale indicates only oxygen and nitrogen."
"No carbon dioxide?"
"The pilot has been dead long enough for all detectable traces to be removed."
"I don't like that 'detectable'."
"I am required to not make absolute statements where there is any trace of doubt."
"So there may be pathogens?"
"My assessment is that there are not."
"Right."
Jade began undoing her helmet.
"Jade ..."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Jade, regulations ..."
"I am fucking uncomfortable inside this. If it's safe for me to be outside this, I fucking will be."
With the helmet off, a cautious sniff revealed no unpleasant odours. In fact, the air smelled a lot cleaner than her own ship, simply because there had not recently been someone living in it.
She clipped her communicator to her overalls.
"How long ago did this happen?"
The computer said nothing.