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You look at the piles of time-cards, and you cannot help but sigh. Part of you knows that you are already taking enough of a risk by simply doing an EVA the same day that you had an unscheduled heart attack. On the other hand, you have only had the EVA certification for a little more than two months now, and while you incurred new debts to get it, you have finally started to make some serious dosh. Well, at least, serious for a seventeen year-old peon who didn't have a trade going in. You would never admit it to anyone - partially because you don't have anyone to talk to about things like this - but ... you are a little scared of losing your momentum here, as silly as it sounds.
So without too much hesitation, you pick up the time-card for the high-paying interior work, and head on over to speak with the foreman, a freeman by the name of Quimbix. He is competent and pleasant enough to speak with, which makes you think that he must have either gotten on the wrong side of someone, or refused grease the wheels (and hands) of Personnel. You really cannot think of any other explanation for why he'd be down here with you.
"Sir, Smithwick checking in. I'll take the interior work, please."
"You got a real leg up on everyone, by being able to read, don't you, kid?"
"It has come in handy at times, sir."
He snorts in vague amusement at that, and then signals to some of his peons, and they start to pull together your equipment for your shift. The suits hang on frames that have been welded onto flat-bottomed carts, so the equipment loadout for the shift can be gathered up into one place. As they work, you glance around the Hangar. Besides the equipment, suits and the board in the staging area, the place is empty. To be sure, the place is always empty, the docking and refueling equipment for whatever craft belonged in this bay were removed a long time ago, and you don't even know if the bay doors work anymore, as you have only even entered and exited through the airlocks on either side of the doors. But typically, there are more people here - and for that matter, the air is usually warmer. You are beginning to think that you are a lot earlier than you originally thought. You consider asking Quimbix, but you decide against it. The shift begins when the shift begins. It is not like you have anywhere better to be.
One of his flunkies rolls your suit for the day over to you, and immediately, you are surprised to see that it is a newer, slim fitting model. Not just, no patches or repairs new, but ... out of the box new, maybe. Quimbix sees your reaction, and snorts again.
"Before you thank me, let me just say that this isn't a kindness, this is a necessity. We keep these new-model suits in reserve for work like this. Setting aside the integrity issues of the standard issue suits, odds are good that you are going to be in spots that are simply too small for the motley to fit in."
