Ruminating the 11th Hour

“…viscous soup.” Jabari finished replying.

“What?” Jason said over the clatter of a dropped tool, he cursed.

“I said it’s like wading through a viscous soup, a fog, or an infested swamp that is actively trying to murder you,” Jabari explained again.

“What in the hell are you yammering about, pilot?” Jason stopped and turned to face Jabari.

“Trying to find out what in the four systems that Avesta and Sag are on about. What is keeping the chief from jetting that bastard to decompose into star stuff? What happened between the two of them?” Jabari said, frustrated. “I have flown for Avesta for nearly a decade and have been dealing with that nut-bag Sag for nearly half that chasing some asshole across the system for reasons I’m not fully aware of.”

“Leave,” Jason said.

Jabari raised a brow to Jason, “Huh?”

“Just leave. You’re so damned miserable about it, leave.” Jason said simply.

Jabari shook his head with a sigh, “And do what? Fly for some half-cocked captain who’s on a mission to deliver the best mineral-haul of his life or some other twat who’s tryin’ to see what he can do to replace his pilot with a machine eventually?” Jabari shook his head, “No. I respect Avesta, and besides having to put up with some gnat buzzing his morbid demeanor all over our ship, I really wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

“What’s your point here, pilot?” Jason said, losing patience.

“My point is,” Jabari explained, “is that you seem to have a history with Sag, or Sachi, or whatever it is you call him. What is the story there? Has he always been bat-shit crazy or is that a recent turn of events?”


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