A Janitor's Adventure: 5.1

The only window in the entire craft was a tiny porthole in the door, which really didn’t provide the lounging opportunities of Ennet and Grescin’s. Janny glared at Lestili the Endoleon. This was an Endoleon craft, with screens on the wall emitting only the slightest amount of light. Janny had complained at first but finally sat on a little fold-up chair that had been stored under a trapdoor in front of the console. But he barely bothered to look up at the navigation display. Instead, he stared at his shoes and the black trousers that weren’t his.

“I just want to go home,” Janny mumbled. He sighed and looked up. Lestili was beside him on the right. He looked round and said, “Please, just take me home.”

Lestili’s hands tensed around her rectangular steering wheel. Janny shuddered, remembering his panic as they had taken over his ability to walk.

“I would love for you to go home. I would love for you to stay there and stop hijacking twenty per cent of Endoleon shipments,” Lestili replied. “Do you have any idea how many companies’ profits have collapsed? How many workers - like the janitor you claim to be - have had to be laid off? And without workers, how can you expect any long term growth?”

Janny blinked at her. His heart twinged as he remembered the clacking sound Odela’s eyelids made when she blinked.

“I don’t understand what you said,” Janny said.

“Of course you don’t. You Scentians just barge in doing what you want and leave TIPO to clean up the mess,” Lestili muttered. She had barely turned around to face him but the way she stared at the screen above them made Janny think the conversation was meant to be over.

But something had occurred to him. “So… er… speaking of TIPO… Don’t you usually work in groups?”

Lestili was silent for a moment. “Yes… Our ships are built for stealth, not one-on-one chases… as you and your friends learned when you outran me. But sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands.”

Janny watched her, waiting for an explanation. When none came he said, “I’ve never taken matters into my own hands.”

Lestili didn’t say anything. With a sigh, Janny settled in to watch the navigation screen, the closest he could get to looking out a window.

“What’s that?” he asked eventually, pointing to a grey square out the beginning to come into view on the left of the screen.

“It’s a trading area,” Lestili explained, slowing down as they neared it. “You can’t enter without declaring what you have to barter, then there’s a huge fine if you’re lying about your cargo.”

Janny frowned, but didn’t say anything. He wondered what would happen if she incorrectly declared him as a Scentian. Would she get kicked out? Lose so much money that she couldn’t afford the fuel to take him home? Would he be confiscated from her and sent home that way? Janny put every ounce of strength he had into keeping his lips shut and not mumbling any of his theories out loud. Ironically, he thought, pressing the words inwards with all the weight of his mind, you might get out of this if she thinks you are a Scentian.

“You alright there?” Lestili asked. “You look like your stomach is upset or something.”

“Just… nervous,” Janny said, looking at the screen rather than at her.

“Ah,” she said, I do wonder what the SRA punishments are for getting your self captured.”

“Yeah,” Janny said.

When they came to a stop, a robotic voice plagued by static played from all sides within the ship. “Please declare cargo.”

“One Scentian male for trade with any SRA unit. You claimed to have one within your bounds when I contacted. Has this situation remained the same?” Lestili asked.

“No,” the robot replied, “Cargo accepted.”

Belatedly, Janny felt a twinge in his gut at the thought of being handed back to the SRA. The ship on that news report had been much larger than Ennet and Grescin’s. He chewed on his bottom lip as they picked back up to speed and headed for the far left corner of the grey square on screen.

When they reached their destination, the robot said, “Please await approach of SRA unit Six.”

Janny’s throat went a little dry. That was definitely going to be more than two SRA flyers eating baked beans out of plastic bowls because they spent all their money on a fancy radar-hiding device. As they waited, Lestili started to drum her fingers on the console, constantly shifting in her chair. As a big white dot started to approach the corner of the screen, a massive grin on her face got wider and wider.

“They’re going to give me so much…” she murmured, and Janny wondered if she had intended to speak out loud.

Finally, the map display on the screen above disappeared, replaced with a slightly unflattering angle of a brownish-red Scentian. Janny blinked hard to try to refocus - his eyes having been aimed towards the exact few pixels on the screen that had resolved as the Scentian’s nostrils.