A Spacer and His Dog, A short story.
“I think its gonna be a long, long time ‘til touchdown brings me round here...”
The Spacer and the Dog
Tens of thousands of years have passed since humanity decided to spread their wings throughout the galaxy. The primitive species once known for painting in caves with berry juice has spread out so far among the stars their original home is all but entirely forgotten, an insignificant dust speck in limitless space. Life for these humans has changed in incalculable ways, yet some things will ever stay the same. While humanity no long talks about changing both engine oil and the climate, many still barely survive on the wages available to them. Fiscal inequality reigns supreme with access to whole solar systems limited to the wealthy. Meanwhile those working day-to-day find themselves passing hologram advertisements of vacation destinations and new products they’ll never be able to afford. Our story follows an ordinary man in almost every aspect. He works hard and earns little, collecting scrap and junk left in space over the many millennium humanity has lived among the stars. This man doesn’t have a house or planet to call home. He lives in his ship, on the proverbial road. There’s a name for this kind of person, someone who prefers the vacuum of space to neighbors and commutes. We call them SPACERS.
This particular spacer is 25 years old. The only thing his father left him was the ship he rides from site to site. Its an older model, missing many of the comforts of a new star-ship. At least its age kept it reasonably cheap to repair, even a bent thermo-coupling in a newer model would send our Spacer to a debt colony to spend decades doing hard labor. That wasn’t a prospect he liked to think about. Our Spacer had very little contact with his own species, the only person he had traded more than 2 words with was the owner of a remote scrap yard. Our Spacer didn’t like what was called “interior” space, space within the middle of the galaxy, heavily policed and traveled. He had his authorization, his registration for both his ship and his scrap license were up to date, our Spacer just didn’t like having to stop and explain that fact to anyone. Interior space jobs may pay more, but there’s always large companies trying to snipe the job from under you right until he moment you get paid. The jobs may pay a lot worse but jobs on the edge of settled space, the “frontier”, gave our Spacer peace he couldn’t find elsewhere. Because of the rarity of frontier based scrappers, our Spacer made up for the lower pay with easy access to many jobs no one else wanted to do.
There also happened to be another reason our dear Spacer didn’t want to meet up with his own species often, his companion. As the years turned to decades and the decades turned to centuries, humanity had forgotten the fauna from their home planet. They moved to new, novel lifeforms discovered on far off planets or onto synthetic pets, made exactly to order. Some real, live animals had been brought into space in the early days of commercialized space flight, but they lived their lives and died out in space, a million miles away from where they were born. Some would import new animals into space, but many couldn’t afford it so they moved onto the alternatives. No matter how separated they came from their home, humanity never lost its fascination with Earth. Objects, and eventually lifeforms, from Earth became hot items in the black market. Entire cities were ransacked, mountains were shaved down bit by bit, and entire species were endangered because of the green inherent in the humans of space. It took longer than it should’ve but the major governments of space came to a declaration, that humanity needed to “lose” Earth. With the level of information control available, it was easy to erase the coordinates of the planet, what took longer was the slow hunt for all the pirates, thrill-seekers, and scumbags would had those numbers memorized. It might’ve| Weekly Pull June 17 taken longer than anyone would care to admit, but Earth was eventually safe from the threat of the humanity it spawned.
Physical objects taken from Earth still circulate seedy black markets and the pristine estate sales of the wealthy alike, but life wasn’t quite as long lasting. Our Spacer had even once seen what claimed to be the top of the highest mountain on Earth while looking for a magnetic joint sleeve for a repair. There might be some animals still out there, but by now they had all made their way to the ultra-wealthy, the only people who had the resources to breed and sustain the life they paid for. Our Spacer had often wondered the kinds of lives lived by the few animals in space. Did they know they weren’t home? He never thought he’d ever be able to see one, but he joked to himself that he’d ask if he got the chance, and one faithful day, that came.| Weekly Pull June 17
The Spacer was on a routine scrap job, slowly moving large pieces of metal close enough to get caught by the magnetic tether hanging from his ship. He used to use a cable net to carry scrap, but it didn’t fit much and let out the small pieces. Our Spacer thinks back to those days and his stomach drops. It took 3 years of giving up meals and working constantly to afford the tether, but at least now he couldn’t see his pay float through holes into the void. It was a boring day, just moving metal as his helmet blasted old Earth music. He was clearing up a crashed ship. It hit a larger starliner, one expensive enough to have shields. The Spacer doubted the starliner even felt the impact, but it certainly totaled the smaller vessel, who’s wreckage was now sitting in a cruise lane and the frontier cruise companies would pay so it didn’t ruin the view. The pilot either didn’t make it or got picked up by an emergency mayday service, either way it wasn’t the Spacer’s problem. The Spacer went to shove a crate to the side but he felt something fall and it the side as he moved it. No one would call a scrapper until all their personal items were out of the wreck, unless they really needed people not not know they had something. The Spacer was annoyed more than anything, if it was contraband he would have to wait for the frontier security forces to send someone out, and who knows how long that would take, and he’d probably lose the rights to the wreck. Hoping it was something innocent, the Spacer took the crate on board his own ship to open up. Before cracking the top open, the Spacer sighed loudly and prayed to no one in particular that this was just some old pots and pans, or basically anything that wouldn’t turn this into something he would need to deal with. The lid popped open and inside laid not kitchenware, but also not drugs, weapons or the usual contraband items. It was a dog.
The Spacer and the Dog sat looking at each other for a while. He had pulled it out of the box to get a better look at it. It was obviously a dog, the Spacer didn’t know what kind, but it fit inside the definition of “dog” he got from old movies. It had long white fur with orange spots. Its ears were pointy but noticeably flopped when it moved its head. Someone must’ve intended to come back for it, they had a custom made space suit for it. Maybe the idea was to steal the crate from a scrapyard as soon as it got there? The Spacer scanned the Dog’s suit and didn’t see any tracking signals, so he tossed the crate out the airlock and decided that issue was over, he really didn’t want to get on the bad side of smugglers, he had heard about the things they did to Spacers for even just being in the same area as their operations. Best case scenario the pilot died on impact and the Spacer was worrying for nothing. The Spacer was trying to figure out what to do, owning an animal wasn’t illegal, but taking one from Earth was, and stealing one was definitely illegal. He hadn’t taken the dog from earth, or stolen it, but would a peace officer believe him? Who would leave an Earth animal just sitting in a cargo crate? No one he knew would touch this thing with a 10 foot pole because of the danger of even being associated with it. While he stood there thinking, the dog whined and looked the Spacer in the eye. It did look a little gaunt. It had been a couple days since the crash, of course it would be hungry. He figured having it die would be more hassle than the lost food to feed it so the Spacer grabbed a plate of artificial protein and filled a pot with water. “Don’t look at me, its all I have, you think I can afford real protein?” The Dog almost seemed to understand him the way it reluctantly lapped at the food before digging his muzzle into it, almost like it finally realized how hungry it was. It made a mess, but the Dog seemed a bit better, more energetic at least.
After multiple failed attempts of getting into the airlock without the dog, the Spacer tied it to the table. No matter what he did with this animal, he still needed to finish the job or he wouldn’t be able to feed himself tomorrow, he was already running low on food products before he fed the Dog. Finishing the job only took a couple more hours. Every once in a while the Spacer would look back to his ship only to see the Dog looking out the one window it could reach, looking right at him. He didn’t know why, but every time he saw that, the day seemed a little longer. Finally getting the last bit of metal attached to the magnet, the Spacer headed back inside. As soon as the airlock shut, his helmet came off with a large sigh. He turned to get into the pilot’s seat but the sound of metal jangling frantically stopped him. The Dog was pulling so hard on the table the clip was starting to scratch the post. “okay, okay! Jeez” The Spacer made his way over to unclip the Dog, it had been tied up for a bit, he assumed it wanted to stretch his legs. The Dog’s motives appeared to be entirely different from the Spacer’s assumptions however, jumping up on him as soon as he got close enough. It was just excited he was back.
This wasn’t a feeling the Spacer was used to. He had been alone since his father died. His only friends were the songs that came on an old used music player his father had given him as a kid. His father would never had been able to afford it normally, but a particularly generous client paid a bonus for timely removal of scrap and instead of food, or putting it back into the ship, the Spacer’s father looked at his son and wanted to make his life a little better than own. That music player had been around the galaxy 100 times and was full of all the music the Spacer could get his hands on. It was all old songs from the Earth days. They were basically free if you could find someone selling the files. People had simply moved on from names like Elton John and T. Rex. Those songs provided him the only comfort he had had in years, they saved him before, during, and after every job. Now he was getting a similar feeling from this Dog. The Spacer just sat down to try and process those feelings, but the Dog didn’t let him do that either, laying its head on his lap and looking up at him with big brown eyes. In that moment, he decided to keep the dog. He took the security footage of him pulling the crate onboard and opening it and saved it in case he needed to prove where he got it, and put his blanket down on the passenger’s seat after multiple unsuccessful attempts of getting the Dog to sit on the floor when he was piloting.
It had all happened pretty quick but the Spacer never thought about undoing it. The Dog belonged with him and he belonged with the Dog. Slowly the bare cabin of the Spacer’s ship filled with things for the Dog. Blankets to lay on, toys, food and water bowls magnetized to the wall. Every spare bit of change not spent on fuel or food went to making the ship more comfortable for the Dog, and every cent was happily spent. The Spacer used to go days, if not weeks, at a time without speaking. Now he sat and sang along with his songs because the Dog would do the same. The cold vacuum of space was filled with the warmth of 2 beings, alone if not for each other, singing long dead songs.
“...Friends say its fine, Friends say its good, Everybody says its just like robin hood…”
It had been long enough that the Spacer stopped worrying about any legal repercussions, he did however still fear smugglers and pirates. Out in frontier space was the perfect place to get blasted and robbed for everything worth a damn. Time before bed every night was spent training the dog to stay away from windows when in port, and to stay under the bed when told to. Just to make sure no one knew the Dog existed, for its own safety. The Dog had gotten good with these commands, it seemed to understand the Spacer’s desperation. These techniques were needed in situations like this more than anything. The Spacer’s ship activated started landing procedures at a frontier scrapyard. He didn’t like landing here even before the Dog joined him. It was seedier than other frontier scrapyards, but it was the only one within a day’s travel from his last job.
Dropping the scrap into a pile, the Dog began his landing ritual, sneaking under the windows to the bedroom in the back so he could stay out of sight until the Spacer gave the all-clear. The Spacer, seeing the Dog was back where he needed to be, got up from his chair and made his way out onto the rusting walkway he had parked next to.
“Immaculate parking as always”
“Whats it worth?”
“No ‘how do you do?’ guess I shouldve expected that with you”
“…”
“The lot you just dropped, we’ll buy for 400.”
“What!? Thats half the price you gave me for the last haul I dropped here, and that was half the metal!”
It was rare for the Spacer to raise his voice, rare enough that it caught the Dog’s attention inside. With a perked up ear, the Dog slowly made its way from under the bed and slowly peered out of the bedroom window, to see the Spacer still arguing with the scrapyard owner.
“Thats the price.”
“Thats bull and you know it! That doesn’t even cover the fuel to get here!”
“We’re out of the way, stuff sells slow. Can’t buy at premiums.”
“But you’ll charge a premium at the fuel pump huh!?”
The argument continued a little longer, with the Dog poking its head further and further up the window to watch. The owner of the yard stood firm on his price, despite the Spacer’s protests and he was apart to say he could always take the couple days flight to another yard but something caught the owners attention. A white shape in the corner of his eye. The Dog noticed the owner shift his attention to the window for a split second and dropped to the floor, slinking back to his hiding space under the bed.
“I’ll tell you what. I appreciate you coming to us for the sale, you don’t often do that”
“and…?”
“I can do 100, and a full tank”
The Spacer sighed. He knew he wasn’t gonna get a better deal. It at least meant he had the fuel to take another job, even if he was eating light until then. He accepted and shook the owners hand, following him to the office to receive his payment while the fueling tube automatically attached to his ship and initiated fueling. The Spacer walked out with lighter pockets than he wanted, but more than that, he couldn’t shake a bad feeling. The owner was normally polite, but in a sort of condescending way. Like his word choice was nice, but the way he said them always hit your ears like sandpaper. This time however, it started like that, but the owner got more considerate when they got to the office. The owner even offered the Spacer a cup of water and recommended a cheap place that repairs clothes upon seeing the rips in the Spacer’s sleeves. He wondered if he got even more ripped off than he thought. Had scrap prices gone up and he didn’t know? The Space decided it wasn’t worth the time thinking about it as he entered back into his ship. He quickly checked the fuel monitor to confirm it was full before looking towards the back of the ship to call the Dog out from underneath the bed. Before he could speak however, he saw it. His bed, which he had made on the way to the scrap yard, was messed up. The Spacer was sure it was fine when he saw the dog go back there before he disembarked, so the yard owner saw it. Had to be. Without giving the all-safe signal, the Space jumped into the pilot’s seat and initiated take off. He didn’t know where to go, but he needed to go some where that wasn’t here.
Would the owner have called mercenaries? Does he have those kinds of contacts? This far out in space, surely he does. Probably pays protection at least, and a living breathing dog could buy a lot of protection. He flew off in a direction, didn’t even think about where he was going. All the Spacer knew if he felt safer the further away he was from that scrapyard. As the ship sped off into the cosmos, the Dog slowly sulked out of his hiding spot. It could feel the stress in the air. Normally the Spacer would make the call and the Dog would run, jumping into the passengers seat, but this time no call was made. It knew it was in trouble and it felt terrible. The Dog decided to stay in the back of the ship, peering up into the cockpit every couple of minutes. Adrenaline was all that was in the Spacer’s ears, for the first time since he was a child, he was flying with no music. This turned out to be lucky as with how focused he was on flying, he never would’ve seen the proximity alarm light if the alarm didn’t cut the silence.
In the split second it took him to pull up the exterior cameras, the mercenary ship had already attached itself. Having no way to shake then off, the Spacer turns towards a local asteroid cluster. Hopefully the mercenaries will get spooked and detach to save themselves being hit. Its not the best idea in the cosmos, but the Spacer didn’t have any others at the moment. He weaved through the asteroids, some big enough to crush a city, the Spacer’s ship wasn’t the fastest but he had plenty of practice maneuvering in tight spaces. Even so it was a rough flight, every turn was sharp and at speed, throwing dirty dishes off of the kitchen counter, tossing blankets onto the floor, and causing the inhabitants to slam side to side. Normally the gravity normalizer would prevent this but it was old and it wasn’t made for flying like this. Even the Spacer’s best piloting was in vain, the mercenaries had descended their tether, and started cutting open the airlock bulkhead. If he was alone he probably wouldn’t have noticed until the vacuum of space took the air he was breathing, but he’s not alone. The Dog, hearing the thumps of the mercenaries boots on the hull of the ship, started growling and barking. The Spacer yelled some choice words and set his ship to autopilot for a moment. Years ago the Spacer had an idea, to wire the autopilot system to the ship’s speakers and radio comms, that way when he put the ship on autopilot to follow him during a job, his music would start automatically and he could tune in with his suit. At the time it was a distraction between jobs with the nice bonus that he wouldn’t risk damaging his music player while working since it would be safe on the ship. Now it seemed inappropriate in as high stress a situation as this.
“Hold the night and shut the daybreak door, fight the light cause we only wanna run. Hold the night and make a fearless roar, fight the light…”
The Spacer screamed for the Dog to come to him, and even over the music, the Dog heard. It jumped up as fast as it could and sprinted into the Spacer’s arms. It was whining but the Spacer didn’t have time to comfort it, he barely had enough time to get Dog’s helmet on before he heard the exterior airlock smash its way down the full. They had made it into the airlock and they didn’t have much time before they would get through the interior door too. As soon as the helmet was secured, the Spacer pointed back to the Dog’s hiding place, but it didn’t want to go. Not having much time, the Spacer didn’t wait around for the Dog to hide, he had to get his own helmet on fast, as air will get ripped out of the ship as soon as they make their first cut. The mercenaries, almost on cue started cutting and the metal door started showing small orange dots, each growing as the torches cut deeper.
His space suit wasn’t enough, the Spacer needed something to defend himself, to defend his only friend. He tore through cabinets and boxes, his ship was old and he never had much so he never needed a weapon to defend himself. Before today any pirate who had seen his ship would’ve decided it wasn’t worth their time. The only thing the Spacer could find in time was his hand-held plasma cutter. He held it up like a sword, even though it was heavy and unwieldy. He knew it wouldn’t do much, it only cuts a few centimeters away from the nozzle, it wasn’t a weapon, but it was all the poor Spacer had. The orange glow on the door turned into a waterfall of sparks as it broke through the last of the door. The air in the room, almost as if it was afraid, evacuated as quick as it could. If the Spacer’s suit didn’t have magnetized boots, he would’ve been thrown across the room if not from the air, from the force of Dog slamming into the back of his legs, pulled by the stampede of air leaving the ship.
For a lifetime of looking out into the infinite void of space, it was surprising that this was the most scared the Spacer had ever been. The interior door was finally entirely sliced through and there stood 4 armed mercenaries. One a foot and a half taller than the others, he stepped in first. He must’ve been the leader, the others were careful around him, almost reverent. The Spacer had expected an immediate brawl, but everything was calm. The tall one pointed to his radio pack and then put his hand in front of him, denoting numbers with his fingers. It was a radio frequency, one the Spacer reluctantly tuned into.
“This doesn’t need to end any worse than it is now. Give it up, it’ll get sold to a nice little rich family and you get to limp your ship to a repair dock to live and work another day”
The Spacer didn’t respond, he stayed focused, tightening his grip on the plasma cutter in his hands.
“Look, I’m not that bad of a guy but you got the short end of the stick. Best to roll with a punch than to get shot.”
“...Like I can believe anything you’re saying”
“You can, I don’t need this hunk of junk. You’re not worth the ammunition and its not worth the fuel to tow it. Give me the one thing I want and you get left alone, but time is money, every second I stand here, the ammo cost is becoming more and more worth it.”
The Spacer looked down at the Dog, it was hiding its body behind him, but its head was poked out to his left growling and barking at people who couldn’t hear it. There was some primal part of his brain saying to let the Dog go, that living another day is all he needs to do, but that part was silenced by a deluge of all the memories he had formed with this animal. The Spacer had forgotten so much of his life, but he remembered every moment since he found his partner, his best friend. For the first time in the years since his father passed, the Spacer felt like a person, all because of the 3 foot tall fur ball behind him. The Spacer steeled himself, these might be the last moments of his life but at least he would spend them fighting for whats most important.
“No.”
The tall mercenary’s chest rose, seemingly doubling in size before he sighed and it fell back down. With one motion of the tall one’s hand, 2 of the other mercenaries started walking down the length of the ship. The tall one and the one that stayed back turned and started searching for something in the cockpit. In only a couple seconds the Spacer would be in his first ever fight. His heart was pounding in his ears, drowning off the static of the cut radio communications. No matter how prepared he thought he was, how certain he was in his resolve, it all seemed to melt away. His shaking legs begged for permission to give out and holding onto the plasma cutter was all his trembling hands could manage. Fear had taken the Spacer, his vision narrowed, his breathing got heavier. The mercenaries were right in front of him now, the Spacer instantly noticed the differences between them, their gear was decades newer than his, their bodies were steady, they were armed. His mind raced near light speed until one thing brought him back, the weight on his calves lightened. The Dog was backing up, did it no longer believe he would protect it? Did it see through him? That one thought was enough. He would rather be dead than have his only friend lose faith in him.
The Spacer lunged out, smashing one of the mercenaries helmets with the cutter, it wasn’t long enough for the plasma to damage the polycarbonate visor, but it definitely was quite the shock. The other reached for his weapon but the Spacer placed the cutting surface to their chest, it only took a second for the plasma to slice through enough to release all the air in their suit. One of the assailants sat dazed and the other frantically tried to close the cut in his suit. The Spacer looked between the 2, surprised with himself, too surprised with himself. By the time he looked up, the tall one was on him, slamming his helmet into the wall. The Spacer thought that this must’ve been what that mercenary felt, his head was spinning. Before he could regain his footing he was picked up and thrown into the other wall. It was all the Spacer could do to stay awake, his eye lids becoming heavier by the second. Right before he passed out, he watched the tall one grab the Dog, it was the only thing that could’ve roused him. Another adrenaline spike shot the Spacer right at the tall mercenary leader’s back, tackling him to the ground. The Dog was able to wriggle out from the leader’s arms on his way down, immediately finding its way to the Spacer’s side.
The Spacer awoke a second later to a nudging at his side, the Dog was trying to get him up. The Spacer sat up, the mercenary leader was slowly rousing himself but it was taking him a bit longer. The Dog jumped up onto the Spacer’s lap, just happy he was okay. The Dog’s breath was fogging up his visor, but that wasn’t supposed to happen, the Spacer felt around the back of the Dog’s suit and found that the atmosphere generator was busted, most likely from the Dog’s messy jump out of the mercenary’s arms. The Spacer looked around, he knew he didn’t have a spare but he had something else, there was an oxygen tube in the airlock. The Spacer used it for longer jobs, his own atmosphere generator was old and inefficient, needing to be charged every couple of hours. The Spacer clawed his way to his feet, grabbing the hose through the hole in the interior airlock door and swiftly attached it to the Dog’s suit. The fog in the helmet cleared quick. That was good, it meant the generator was still working even though the cabin had depressurized. Before the Spacer had a chance to celebrate for long, he was grabbed from behind.
The leader had finally gotten up and was incredibly angry. He threw the Spacer against the wall, hard. The whole universe was shaky, it was everything the Spacer could do to even remain upright. He would see the tall mercenary was talking, but one or both of them had broken their radios, so he heard nothing until he was hit. A straight punch to his helmet. Even though he was technically protected, his head bouncing around inside the helmet was excruciating. Another punch. Every hit was like an earthquake inside his skull. He was hit again, and again, and again. The Spacer always knew a confrontation would end like this, what hope could he have had? The last hit was hard enough to crack his visor, air whispered out of the crack but the Spacer barely noticed it as he was seeing triple. He did, however, feel himself be picked up by the front of his suit. The Dog tried to jump at the leader but was caught by the final mercenary. The Spacer watched helplessly as he was carried over to the open airlock doors and dangled out into space. He watched multiples of the leaders mouth move, probably some taunt about how it was always gonna end like this. It no longer mattered. The Spacer couldn’t even move his fingers. He decided he wanted his last moments to be looking at his best friend. It was his last wish. And those might’ve been his last moments if that mercenary hadn’t, annoyed with the Dog wriggling around, punched it in the side. Once again anger welled up from inside him. One last bit of adrenaline. The Spacer, using decades of muscle memory for the layout of his ship, grabbed a wrench off the airlock wall and swung hard at the mercenary leader’s helmet. It immediately left his grip, all his energy was gone, but at least he sealed the tall one’s fate. The wrench was firmly planted in the visor, cracks radiating out. Within seconds the mercenary leader was suffocating, but seems like mutual destruction was an idea he also came to. Before going limp the leader pushed the Spacer out into the void, the slow air leak from the sole crack in his visor was the only sound he had. The Spacer resigned himself to space.
It must’ve been only a second later, but it might as well been a millennium to the Spacer. His life, what has been lived and what could’ve been lived raced through his mind, a morbid zoetrope of happy days he could’ve had. He wished for a moment more with his Dog. One more moment was all he ever wanted. At that moment he was shocked away from what hadn’t yet been by a thud to his chest. The Dog was there, pawing, desperately trying to hang onto the Spacer with every limb it had. Even its tail was trying to wrap around the Spacer. It must’ve wrested itself free from the mercenary’s grasp. With naught but instinct, the Spacer hugged the Dog with everything he had. Maybe those days weren’t not lived, but not yet lived. Every muscle ached, but the Spacer slowly pulled the Dog and himself back to his ship.
Upon climbing up into the airlock the Spacer looked up to find the last mercenary, his two peers had been strapped to his belt to be carried back to their ship. The Spacer knew he didn’t have anything left in him, but it appeared to be enough. The final mercenary let lose a devilish smirk, barely visible through his tinted visor. He then silently clapped before stepping over the Spacer to grab his fallen leader. He pulled him, but instead of attaching him like he did the others, the final mercenary ripped a patch from the leader’s shoulder and dropped him. He then turned and gave one final casual salute to the Spacer before returning to his ship, detaching the ship tether, and leaving.
The Spacer didn’t know what happened at first. When he processed it, he had a thought that it would probably come back to bite him later. But he didn’t care, hes getting his one more moment. The Spacer still had a crack in his helmet, so he slowly pulled himself to his storage crates, throwing tools into the air, where they stayed in the zero gravity, until he found emergency sealant. He gave his visor a liberal amount and his atmosphere generator kicked back onto full. It felt like his first breath in his life. Now that his immediate issue was solved he looked back to see the Dog, happily floating almost like nothing had happened. The Spacer pushed himself back over and hugged his best friend once again. Neither really wanted to let go so the Spacer just decided to fly with the Dog in his lap, even if it was a bit too big. Even though they couldn’t hear each other, they still felt they couldn’t not sing along while they limped the ship along to wherever they would end up.
“Big iron, Big iron. When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip”
The needed repairs, and badly. The Spacer’s first thought was to blackmail the scrap yard owner to let him do repairs there, but he couldn’t trust him. Then the idea came and he and the Dog looked back at the mercenary leader laying, still on his floor. It was a rocky flight but a little over an hour later, the Spacer delivered a known criminal into a frontier security forces outpost to collect his bounty. It was more money than the Spacer had ever seen in his life. For the first time, the Spacer walked freely with his Dog. No one on this outpost station was gonna mess with either of them after the fish they just reeled in. Even if they wanted to, the first thing the Spacer bought was a weapon for himself, and he had already proven to himself that he was willing to fight for whats important. The Spacer and his Dog were at port for a long time, longer than the Spacer had ever sat still in one place before at least, but between repairs and regular questionings by the security forces, their time was filled. At the end of the day, after what they had experienced, the two of them were fine with the calm, even if they did fly off into the unknown as soon as they could. And over the years they made good use of one of the many upgrades the Spacer deemed necessary, a second atmosphere tube in the airlock. Our Spacer didn’t just have companionship on his ship, he now also had a partner while he was working too, though the jobs seemed to take a little longer than they used to.
Even with all the changes in the lives of the Spacer and his Dog, one thing stayed the same. They both howled out the lyrics to old songs at the tops of their lungs while traveling through the infinite frontier of space, and the lucky few who would come to know them figured that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon.
