Light Transport 35-a
One light-hour from UN colonized territory
Status: Adrift/Disabled
Captain Era Conrad
I was only knocked out for a few seconds. When I came to, there was a heavy weight pushing down on top of me and something tickling my ear. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened room that was only occasionally lit by flashing emergency lights, I realized that it was the AI who was covering me. His arms were wrapped around my torso, our chests pressed tightly together, and his face was about an inch from mine. It was his hair that was brushing my skin.
A groan slipped out as I tried to move which gained the AI's attention. He lifted up just a little while his eyes and hands searched over me, presumably checking for injuries. I could feel his unmistakable anatomy pressing into my leg and absentmindedly wondered why that particular body part was included on him.
As if suddenly realizing he was on top of me and the only thing keeping me on the floor, he jumped up and then leaned back down to lift me up.
"You don't have any serious injuries, but you were still knocked out by the blast, so you should move slowly."
"Yeah, I got it. Not my first rodeo," I said. My voice was rougher than I'd expected, like I'd just come off a three-day bender. Must've been from the smoke I'd inhaled when the screens blew. Carefully, I sat down in my busted seat in front of my equally busted view screen.
"Darla, status report."
"You or the ship, Captain?" Her soothing voice was unflappable and I was grateful to hear it.
"Start with the ship."
"Shields are holding at fifteen percent but the main light drive took significant damage and will need to be repaired in order to reach FTL speeds. Some hull shielding was damaged as well, but the integrity is stable for the moment. I vented some breathable air to prevent a flashover at the moment of impact, but your companion was able to protect you from respiratory damage until I was able to bring the scrubbing systems back online and restore oxygen to manageable levels. You will need to refill the tanks, though."
I groaned and rubbed my forehead before giving the AI a grateful smile. He returned it with a shy one of his own and a dip of his head. I wasn't sure I wanted to know how he kept the air inside my lungs. It probably required more physical contact than I would've been comfortable with had I been conscious.
"And me?"
"You have a mild concussion and a possible fracture of your right coracoid process, but my scanning functions are currently offline due to power saving protocol 3 so I can only give a cursory examination."
"Sorry, that's my fault," the android added. "I felt it break when I took you to the floor. I didn't gauge my weight properly in the heat of the moment."
I sighed. Now that the shock of what had happened was wearing off, the pain was hitting me like a freight hauler. "It's okay. Judging from the condition of my ship, you saved me from something worse. So thank you."
"You're welcome." That unnervingly handsome smile was back, making the hard lines of his face more noticeable. I had to look away before I got caught staring at him. He really was quite well made.
"Are there any other dangers lurking that I should be aware of?"
"No, Captain. There appears to have been only one drone set up to stop recovery efforts. It self-destructed upon releasing its payload so there isn't likely any recoverable information in the wreckage."
"Why go through the trouble of destroying the freighter, the salvager, and the drone," I mused aloud. "Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for standard pirates."
"Agreed, Captain. I was able to sift some cursory data from the missile immediately prior to impact and it appeared to be military-grade but all identification codes had already been scrubbed."
"That's not exactly unusual for pirates, but it isn't common either. Send what data you collected to corporate and see if Raimey or the others can find anything in the system."
"Unfortunately, I can't do that, Captain. I was able to send out a mayday and distress coordinates before the blast took out my communications systems, but they are currently beyond my own replication abilities. They will need to be addressed in a maintenance dock."
"So you mean for all corporate knows, I'm dead?"
"Yes, Captain."
"Well that fucking sucks. This is really going to screw up my pay allotment."
The android beside me snorted. "You're more worried about your pay than your friends and family thinking you're dead?"
I bit my lip before meeting his eyes. "I only have a couple friends that would care. No family to speak of. Those that know me probably wouldn't give two shits if I didn't make it back to port."
The AIs eyebrows knitted together. "I'm sure that's not true."
I shrugged as I pushed away from the control panel, suddenly realizing what a terrible idea that had been considering that my shoulder was apparently broken. "Be that as it may, I'm sure corporate is more worried about the loss of one of their ships than me. Darla, how long will it take us to make it back home?"
"If we could go directly there, approximately one month, but without filling the oxygen tanks and making necessary repairs to the FTL drive and hull shielding we wouldn't make it that far. Not with you alive. Instead, I have set a course for the nearest station with the maintenance capabilities to address our issues and a medical team that can take care of you."
"Fine," I groaned out as I looked at the ceiling for patience. This day had really gone to shit. "How long before we get there?"
"One standard week."
"Very well. I'm going to get some medicine and hit the rack. Wake me if you need me."
"Uh, Captain..." the AI started. I turned and looked at him with what I was sure was the bitchiest face I could muster. He swallowed and stood. I tried not to focus on the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his muscular throat. Now was not the time for my unattended libido to make itself known.
"Yes?"