Alright, was kind of waiting for Kevak's robotocist, but I can get around to interviewing them when they get here...
Interview: Amaani
In another time, Raker would have liked to have a clean office to interview prospective crewmen in. A clean office showed order, control, and a modicum of discipline- all qualities that were notably absent from the repurposed section of Raker's quarters that being forced to moonlight as an office. His desk was covered in paperwork, a mountain that could only have been spawned by the modern combination of bureaucracy and technophobia.
"So," Raker began, barely looking at the young woman across the desk while he scanned a billing statement that practically bled red ink, "I read your file. Poor family. No higher education. Job history that looks like you took pruning shears to every job notice board in three systems. Criminal history: aiding and abetting a smuggling vessel." Blackjack glanced up from the document and offered it to Amaani, looking the woman in the eyes for the first time. "This document lists the raw cost for the contract I have on the Wilhelmina. Given your history, your lack of formal education, and your lack of experience in professional astrogation, do you think you're even remotely qualified to pilot a ship that has higher value than everything you've ever produced in your entire life?"
Interview: Toby
The man sitting across from Blackjack was one of the only applicants that genuinely perplexed him. Toby didn't, as far as Blackjack could tell, have a criminal history. He didn't have any major psychological problems. He wasn't hideously deformed, deviant, or possessed of any major faults of character, conduct, or fortune. Blackjack didn't get many applications like that.
"Toby, I'm going to ask you a question that has nothing to do with your personal qualifications," Blackjack said, leaning forwards and steepling his fingers. "Why the hell are you enlisting on this ship? As far as I can tell you're a bright young man with a good future, with plenty of opportunities that don't involve chewing on protein packs while a nuclear reactor pushes you across space at speeds that are simultaneously fatal and boring. You've got a life to live, kid, so what are you doing here?"
Interview: Chainsaw
Blackjack set down the single psuedo-crystal decanter of alcohol he owned, using it to weight a stack of unruly paperwork down while he passed Sawyer a glass of cheap whiskey. "It's good to see you again, 'Saw, no two ways about that, but I'm not sure this is going to be the job you think it is." Robert swirled his glass gently, filling the air with the harsh scent of warm alcohol. "I do need a man with a steady trigger finger, military training, and dedication to getting the job done, but..." Blackjack sighed and took a drink of his whiskey, exhaling sharply as it bit the back of his throat. "Way I recall the stories, you left the corps because you got bored. 'Cause you needed some real action and adventure. I'm a business man now, not a soldier, and I try to stay on the honest side of things when I can. If that means selling bulk tampons at a starving sliver of profit, then I'll sell bulk tampons at a starving sliver of profit. I can't promise you adventure, heroics, or anything more engaging than occasionally giving a stern eye to the curious or foolish. Are you sure that's the kind of work you want to sign up for?"
Interview: Jackson
"Cromwell. Good name, heard it attached to a Jackson twice in my life," Robert said, his smile amiable. His desk was, for once, almost clear of paperwork. The lack of clutter pleased Blackjack. It pleased him partially because it made him feel like he'd actually accomplished something, and partially because implant in his head would finally stop plotting trajectories for paper airplanes. "First time I heard it was about a whiz kid working on a laser sat. That Cromwell Jackson went EVA to repair a hot pump that had been hit by a bit of space trash, the kind of work that most satellite jockeys leave to remote robotics or professional repair crews. The repair was estimated to take two weeks and cost thousands, but this guy goes outside and patches the damage with six jumps over a seventeen hour period. That Cromwell impressed a lot of people." Blackjack leaned back in his seat, his expression becoming calculating, though not unfriendly. "Second time I heard the name was in less friendly circumstances. This new Cromwell Jackson was a thief, stole precision motors and diode couples from his job, then sold enough of them on the black market to worry a lot of people. He ended up in disgrace, the kind of untrustworthy lowlife that no sane man would let near anything valuable ever again. "
"So, Cromwell, are either of those men familiar to you?"
Interview: Peter
Raker wasn't sure whether he knew the whole story behind Peter Williams, and that bothered him slightly. On the surface, Williams was an Engine officer with job experience, a solid background, and good overall qualifications. He'd either left or been fired from his old job, but he was hardly a tarred bird. There was always the off chance that the man was just into the rarer kind of deep-space reactor that the Wilhelmina used, but... Blackjack wasn't sure that was a gamble he was willing to take. "Well, Williams, I can't tell you what a relief it is to have an engineering applicant with qualifications as solid as yours. Last man who applied to the post said he had a full degree in nuclear engineering. Turns out that part was true, but he pretty much bought the degree off a life dealer. Had as much experience with reactors as I have with dolphin training. You, on the other hand..." Blackjack considered a moment, trying to pick the right tactic. "You've got good qualifications. No formal education in the field, but a fully completed apprenticeship program. I even reached out to your old teacher, and she spoke exceptionally highly of your qualifications. Only thing that bothers me is your professional work history, which appears to be... erratic thus far. I don't doubt that you've got the abilities and discipline to hold down a job, so what's haven't you?"
Interview: Helen
"Dr. Atreides, your interest in my crew is as welcome as it is surprising," Raker said, meaning every word. He had no idea why a woman with the resume of a consumate medical professional would apply for his crew, but he was willing to gamble a little on a woman with her qualifications. "There aren't a lot of real medical professionals that hire on to traveling crews, particularly not professionals with expertise as broad as your own. Were you to join as a crew member, you'd doubtless add a great deal to keep my crew healthy, productive, and well adjusted." Blackjack paused, mulling over his decision a few moments longer before he went all in. "You would, however, be dramatically over-qualified for the position, and I'd like to make you a better offer. My crew is pretty damn green at this point, and almost every one of them has their own issues. I've led men before, but this is a bit different, and I can't hold this crew together the same way. I'm good at people, but, looking at the things you've done, I'd say that you're more than a fair bit better with people than I am. You're also one of the most stable people people that's applied thus far, and that counts for a lot." Blackjack caught Dr. Atreides' eye, searching for tells, flickers of emotion and reaction. "I'd like to offer you a position as first officer, or first mate, whatever term you'd like to use. You'd be second only to me, get a decent pay raise, be responsible for the crew in my absence, and you would add advising me to your list of duties. Interested?"
((Note: In any place where I inferred backstory, feel free to tell me if you think it's overstepping))
Author
Topic: Void•Black: A Hard Science Fiction Adventure (Read 19801 times)