File 01: Normal Operations of the Cargo Transporter
Shaun-Lyatt
After completing the handover of the cargo I had transported, I returned to the usual cargo delivery reception transport counter, where the receptionist Sasara-Esunvelda called out to me..
“Hey hey. I’ve been waiting for you, Snail.”
“Who are you calling Snail? My name is Shaun-Lyatt.”
This receptionist Sasara calls me Snail (meaning Slug) for some reason.
Admittedly, unless lives are at stake, I dislike urgent high-speed deliveries – or rather, I don’t do them at all.
Unless pirates are chasing me or a supernova explosion occurs, I won’t exceed the legal speed limit plus about five.
That’s because my ship is an old military hand-me-down, so it’s not that fast, and I’m also afraid of it breaking down.
That’s one of the reasons I’m mocked as a Slowpoke and called Snail/Slug.
On the other hand, my record of accident and violation-free operations continues to be updated.
By the way, this receptionist Sasara is a genius at getting on people’s nerves despite being good at her job.
“I’ve got an urgent job for you.”
“I refuse.”
I’ve just finished a delivery and haven’t even refueled yet – that’s no joke.
“The reward is 300,000 credits for an emergency charter. The destination is the planet Soarcul. You’ll be transporting two people. Fully fueled as a bonus.”
“But there’s an express shuttle service to Planet Soarcul, isn’t there?”
The renowned Cosmic Eagle Company’s pride and joy, the large high-speed passenger ship [Hevring 1] introduced by the Starflight Company’s express shuttle service is supposed to be quite popular.
“They’re on strike. Over 3,000 people are stranded.”
“Didn’t they do this before, that company?”
“Smells like they might go bankrupt.”
Sasara makes irresponsible comments about others’ affairs as if they have nothing to do with her.
Well, Starflight Company doesn’t have a very good reputation among those involved.
“In short, it’s a request from clients stranded by the strike.”
“Sorry~♪ They want to get to Soarcul by the galactic standard time tomorrow.”
“Let me make it clear, I refuse any demands for maximum ship speed.”
“Don’t worry, they’ve been informed about that.♪”
The Galaxy Cargo Transporters Guild contracts with cargo transporters like me to carry out their operations by having them deliver cargo.
If they betray the cargo transporters, they’ll have no transporters to contract with and won’t be able to operate.
Conversely, if a cargo transporter betrays the Guild, they’ll be expelled from the industry.
Some shady receptionists might skim 50% off the client’s reward payment, knowingly transport contraband and then feign ignorance if caught, and so on.
This one has an annoying way of speaking, but she’s reliable when it comes to work.
It would only take about ten hours with a slight increase in speed, and the free full refuel is much appreciated.
“So, where are the clients?”
“At the terminal waiting area. I’ll contact them now.”
In fact, I often get requests for urgent human transport like this.
The reason is that my ship is a combination cargo-passenger vessel.
Although, the passenger quarters are only slightly better than being in the cargo hold.
Since I still have a loan on the ship, and it’s a short distance, I decided to accept the job.
After a while, a middle-aged man in a business suit and a woman in her thirties who looked like a career woman arrived at the Guild’s reception counter.
“I’m Olbert-Carzan. Sorry for the sudden request.”
“I’m his secretary, Robelia-Renal.”
The man had a business smile, while the woman frowned.
“I’m the cargo transporter, Shaun-Lyatt.”
Of course, I was meeting both of them for the first time and had no recollection of being rude to them before.
My flight jacket attire shouldn’t be considered rude either.
Yet I couldn’t understand why the woman was frowning at me.
“Renal, how long are you going to keep frowning? It’s rude to him.”
“My apologies. But for Starflight Company employees to go on strike right before departure makes me question their sanity.”
Ah, so the frowning was likely due to the express shuttle issue.
“Well then, shall we go to my ship?”
If she hadn’t been rude, I led them to my vessel.
“This is ridiculous! Not even offering a refund for the tickets!”
“And they seem to have a lot of pilot accidents too.”
It appears Starflight Company doesn’t have a good reputation even among outsiders.
My ship is a combination cargo-passenger transport with the cargo hold in the lower part and the cockpit, engines, etc. above it.
Its white body color dates back to when it was decommissioned from the military, and its name, [White Cargo], is a play on that color.
When we arrived at its docking bay, a familiar worker had just disconnected the energy tube.
“Yo Shaun. Got your fuel fully topped up. Must be nice having the Guild foot the bill.”
“Thanks, Dennis. I’ll get you to do maintenance when I’m back.”
This is Dennis, a worker at this spaceport who’s also an excellent mechanic,
so I always have him do maintenance when I’m here.
“Since we’re fueled up, we’re ready to depart right away.”
The boarding ramp was already lowered, so I showed the two clients onto the ship.
On my ship the [White Cargo], you enter and the cockpit is to the left at the front. To the right are two long sofas and a table, which is where the clients will stay.
Further back are the kitchen, toilet, shower, and private quarters.
“Please have a seat on those sofas. We’ll be departing shortly.”
After securely closing the entrance hatch and the one leading down to the cargo hold, I entered the cockpit.
Once all checks were complete, I called the control tower for communication.
“Control tower, this is registered number SEC20110103, the cargo-passenger ship [White Cargo] requesting departure clearance.”
The one who answered was Coby, the middle-aged guy who got punched by his wife and had his front teeth knocked out after a domestic dispute.
[Control tower here. Departure clearance granted to [White Cargo]. Back out on another job so soon, business must be good. Is it because of that big thing?]
“Roger control tower. I’ll try to avoid having that urgent job come into view.”
The “big thing” is probably referring to the strike-bound [Hevring 1].
Well, they’re at the passenger port while we’re at the cargo port, so we’re unlikely to cross paths.
[Clients, we’ve been cleared for departure so we’ll be taking off now.]
I switched the mic to broadcast inside the ship to inform them of our departure.
“Ignition. Proceeding at low speed.”
I don’t really need to voice it out loud, but it’s a Guild regulation, plus I have a black box installed.
After moving the ship to the outer perimeter of the spaceport at the first cruising speed, we’ll head to the area where hyperspace jumps are possible, charge up energy, and then enter hyperspace.
Along the way, while still within the spaceport, we caught a distant glimpse of the [Hevring 1] sitting there exuding an imposing presence.
“Locking in hyperspace jump coordinates. Destination: Planet Soarcul. Commencing energy charge.”
The charge completed in a few minutes, so:
“Energy charge complete. Initiating hyperspace jump.”
We’ll just keep proceeding through the hyperspace tunnel.
“Entered hyperspace. Switching to auto-drive from here on.”
The jump moment is tense, but once in hyperspace, it’s just auto-piloting after that.
And just as I was about to take a breather –
“Ah, here it comes.”
I had hoped it would hold out until we arrived, but I guess not.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM
After waiting a bit for it to settle down, I opened the cockpit door to explain things to the clients.
Naturally:
“And who might you be? What happened to the captain?”
Mr. Carzan looked at me sternly, while Ms. Renal kept a hand in her bag, glaring at me.
There was likely a gun in that bag.
“My apologies. Could you please look at this?”
I showed them my ID card.
Ms. Renal came over, took the ID, and handed it to Mr. Carzan.
After he examined it, he said:
“You’re a Sumerian, I see. Well well.”
It seemed they understood.
“But you’ve certainly changed quite a bit…”
Ms. Renal looked me over as she closed her bag.
The Sumerian are a type of humanoid, said to be either the result of human evolution in harsh environments or genetically engineered improved humans. They’re hermaphrodites.
Since they can be born to ordinary human parents on rare occasions, their human rights and civil liberties are fully guaranteed now, with no discriminatory treatment.
They’re born as either male or female but can transform into the opposite sex as they grow up.
One of their characteristics is that all Sumerian have an androgynous appearance regardless.
In my case, my silver hair and blue eyes remain the same, but my previously short hair grows long down to my waist. My body becomes slender, and I shrink a bit in height, except for an inexplicably large bust size.
By the way, about one in a hundred Sumerian experience changes in hair length and height during transformation.
“But why did you transform?”
A fair question, but there’s a biological reason behind it.
“My apologies. [That time of the month] came on suddenly…”
“Ah, I see. That can’t be helped.”
Ms. Renal smiled wryly in understanding.
Incidentally, this is actually the biggest reason why I’m called Snail/Slug.
I should also mention that for non-Sumerian to refer to it is considered a discriminatory remark.
For context, [that time of the month] refers to a Sumerian biological function where, once a month, we temporarily transform into the opposite sex we were born as to maintain survival functions.
It usually only lasts a day or two.
But for now, there was something more important.
“Pardon me. Since this flight has no break after the previous delivery, may I go change clothes for a bit?”
Having just returned from the previous delivery location by passing through the asteroid belt, Shaun had been gripping the joystick controls the entire time, sweating profusely without a chance to change clothes.
“Ah, it was my fault for pushing you too hard. Feel free to change your clothes.”
“Thank you.”
With permission granted, Shaun retrieved a change of clothes from the room and headed for the shower.
Even after showering and changing, her outfit was essentially the same – a tank top, flight pants, and flight boots. A holster with a needle gun for self-defense was on her hip. Shaun donned her flight jacket before emerging to greet her passengers.
“I’ll be in the cockpit, so let me know if you need anything. The bathroom is the second door on your left.”
Shaun brusque manner avoided coming across as overly familiar, which some clients dislike.
Shaun couldn’t stray too far from the cockpit either.
Well, might as well read that novel she had started.
Three hours after departing Planet Orlangea,
with occasional checks of the instruments and outside conditions, the journey proceeded smoothly.
Considering their departure was around 9am, it was about lunchtime now.
After double-checking everything, Shaun left the cockpit.
“Excuse me, I don’t have much stocked so it will be simple, but would you care for lunch?”
Shaun addressed the two passengers carefully, avoiding disturbing Mr. Carzan’s paperwork.
“Ah yes, thank you. I hadn’t thought about food since we were supposed to arrive before noon.”
“Understood, just a moment please.”
Thinking they might have luxurious tastes, Shaun wondered if basic fare would disappoint them. But that didn’t seem to be the case.
After checking with them, Shaun headed to the kitchen and first set up the coffee siphon.
Shaun finely chopped the remaining scraps of vegetables and sautéed them in oil, seasoning with salt and pepper.
While those cooked, Shaun also fried some bacon.
As those cooled, Shaun cut the bread into slices of moderate thickness.
Shaun cracked the eggs into a bowl, gently blending the whites, then mixed in the sautéed vegetables once well-blended. Shaun poured the egg mixture into an oblong pan and baked it into an omelette sized for the bread slices.
Once the omelette finished cooking, Shaun set it aside to cool as well.
Meanwhile, Shaun made an aurora sauce with ketchup, mayonnaise and seasonings.
For the CLT (cheese-lettuce-tomato) sandwiches, Shaun buttered the bread, layered lettuce, tomato and cheese,
then drizzled with basil oil before topping with another slice of bread.
For the other sandwiches, Shaun spread the unbuttered bread with aurora sauce, topped it with the omelette and bacon, and another sauced slice of bread on top.
Shaun wrapped and lightly weighted the sandwiches to set, warming the coffee cups and preparing a tray in the meantime.
Once the coffee finished brewing and the sandwiches set,
Shaun halved them and plated them along with the cookies he had made earlier.
Loading it all onto the wagon that came with the ship, Shaun brought it out to the passengers.
“My apologies for the simple sandwiches.”
“No, no, they look quite delicious.”
“You’re quite handy in the kitchen.”
After setting the sandwiches, coffee and cookies before them,
Shaun returned the wagon to the kitchen and prepared her own tray.
“I’ll be back in the cockpit, so just leave everything when you’ve finished.”
Shaun gave them those instructions before heading back to the cockpit.
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