54 million 375 thousand 956 credits. 74 million if the engines were destroyed and needed to be replaced entirely. Now that he was back inside a taxi, this one more intact than the last, reality had settled in. Essentially, that sum was everything he had. Every single coin he had painstakingly earned through years of hard effort and sacrifice. And he wasn’t even sure that was going to be enough. Damn it. That whole Academy business, whatever that entailed, was better turn out to be a paid job, or he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to earn some more money. Sure, he could have boarded some ships while Yurian took care of all the minor repairs; but that would have entailed leaving behind Keelo Prime for quite some time. Perhaps even months.
He discarded that idea. He couldn’t, or better, didn’t want to leave it all behind.
A gigantic sigh escaped him. Fortunately, nobody was on board in that taxi or he would have surely be forced to engage into a useless conversation that he didn’t’ want to have. Instead, the empty seat of the driver, where a holoprojection was being projected by the small camera mounted up front, was deadly silent. It was normal for I.V.s to fall silent the moment they received their orders, and Vindril was grateful for that. Especially now that he had so much to think about.
He was less grateful however of the oppressive feeling of heat that was making him sweat profusely. The chilly air that was being pumped out the front vents, hitting him right in the face, wasn’t nor too hot, nor too cold, so it wasn’t like that had anything to do with his sweating. In fact, it was even his absolute favourite temperature. No. It was Yurian’s fault of course.
He cursed inside his mind. Damn Yurian and his opulent office. Were it not for his damned fixation about setting that damned air conditioner to freezing temperatures, he wouldn’t have found himself in that situation. And yes, he had told him several times to raise the temperature, even a little bit. Did Yurian listen to him? No. He acted like he didn’t hear him. When he put his mind to it, he could be harder than granite.
After ten minutes, given the time that was displayed on the front dash in cubical numbers, the I.V reached the destination Vindril had asked it to be taken to. With a soft swish that was reminiscent of a whistle, the I.V. spoke in its monotone voice that felt cold and distant. Then the doors opened wide.
If the outskirt, or the parking lot of Mach 1, had felt unbelievably hot, now that he had reached the more civilized part of town, even if he was still a long way from the bustling center, the heat waves that were coming from the pavement, that was done in some kind of residue derived from industrial processes, now he was feeling like he was inside a volcano.
Vindril let out a long sigh, trying his best to ignore the rivulets of sweat that were forming once again on his temple. The resilience, or habit, or tolerance, that local habitants had sort of developed to Keelo Prime’s torrid temperatures allowed them to sweat only on the hottest hours of the day, which was obvious when the sun shone the brightest. But Vindril, no matter how many times he had tried in the past to get accustomed to it all, had never been able to. Perhaps it was his wandering from starship to starship, from planet to planet, that made him act that way. Fact was that he was sweating his ass off. And the academy wasn’t nowhere near. Great.
Ignoring the people that were carrying on with their lives, with their smiles, and drinks, and perfectly dry skin that-
He stopped looking. If kept thinking about it, he would surely lose his mind before he even had a chance to see what the work offered by the academy consisted of.
After that, it was just a matter of minutes, so it didn’t take him long to reach the waypoint that signalled the metro station, one of the few things that the old government had done right. It was, after all, the fastest mean of transport, planetary wise, between the major cities scattered all around the globe. To Vindril’s knowledge, it relied on some kind of technology that allowed them to float into midair using powerful magnets that also allowed it to reach enormous speed. An aerodynamic design was also key to reaching that goal, but he wasn’t all that interested in design aspect of it.
Starships on the other hand…
He could speak, read, learn, and everything that was in between, about starships. He didn’t know why, or even when that passion had ignited inside him; but he still felt it burning daily inside him. And he was glad of it. Truthfully, he didn’t even want to think where he might have ended up if he had not listen to his heart, all those years ago. Probably in a bad place.
But leaving those thoughts aside, he ventured underground, following the bright neon lights that had been mounted right beside the flight of stairs. As he reached the real station, which was more or less deserted save some unfortunate soul that had some business to attend to, he relaxed. Down there, away from the direct heat the sun was emitting constantly, the temperature was way easier to manage. It might have been even easier if he hadn’t wore that white jacket, but that was just a minor detail. The important was that he wasn’t going to walk for long under that scorching sun that felt like fire against his skin. And honestly, he was damn glad of it.
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“THE TRAIN WILL ARRIVE AT THE LAST DESTINATION IN ONE MINUTE.” said a metallic voice that came from all around the wagon. A speaker had to be mounted somewhere, but Vindril couldn’t find it even if he tried. It must have been that new redundant invention he read about some time before, back in the last voyage.
Exactly as that voice said, the train stopped on time. It was almost amazing, even to Vindril’s experienced mind, how smooth and devoid of any bumps that whole journey had been. Even if it was advertised that only the best technologies and materials had been used to provide the subways to Keelo Prime’s civilians, Vindril had thought that it was just another one of those fake advertising gimmicks that were completely useless. Well, now he had to reconsider.
A series of steps broke him out of those thoughts. He sighed. There was no point in losing himself into such useless thinking. Now that he was just a few minutes away from the Academy, he had to stay focused on securing that job, whatever that was. He only hoped it was a well-paying job. Or if it wasn’t, he at least hoped to make some connections with some of the staff. It was a long shot, but maybe they could help him into securing some money from the Empire. After that, it would only be a matter of time before-
He shook away such thoughts. Even if that was the last possible stop for that particular line of the subway, he couldn’t simply just lay there motionless, losing himself inside the maze that was his mind. Firstly, the I.V. that drove those trains wasn’t simply going to wait for him to disembark. It had been programmed to keep a tight schedule, and it was going to keep doing that until ordered otherwise. There was just no stopping that. Secondly, he too was getting restless, even if he wasn’t doing anything particularly tiring. So he simply got up and walked out, sidestepping the few people that were still there underground.
Time to find out what was waiting for him at the Academy…
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The white walls that had been erected in the last century stood right there unmoving and unchanged, as if the atmospheric conditions had not bothered them in the least. Beyond them, over the barrage that blocked the view, peaked the dome where the Academy was housed. Vindril knew that was the case, even if he had not obviously been there before. The imperial flags that were waving up in the sky, a red stylized sun on a black background, were a clear sign as any. And if that wasn’t enough, the guards that were standing still right at the entrance were dressed up in the desert mimetic armor that was only in use in the Empire.
He succeeded in reaching the outer perimeter. But that was the easy part. Now he had to somehow convince them guards to let him pass without causing a stir. Problem was, how? It would have been easier to convince that stingy ass of Yurian to give him a discount; and everybody who know Yurian were also aware of how difficult, if not outright impossible, that was.
“Uhm.” said Vindril. Not the best of starts, but they had not shot him on sight. Good enough, he supposed. “Good morn-”
He didn’t even time to finish that sentence that the firearms they were carrying on the side came up in a heartbeat. Now that wasn’t the first time he had some guns pointed at him. To be blatantly honest, he even had experienced shooting, and getting shot, more than a couple of times in his past travels. The smuggler’s life was like this. Win or lose. Kill or be killed. There was no middle ground to be found. So it was not like he was nervous when he saw the tip of those rifles pointed at him, ready to blast his brains out to the ground.
“Who are you?” asked the guard on the right. Leaving aside the obvious difference in height and size, Vindril couldn’t distinguish them at all. A helmet, standard equipment in all imperial troops, were they either combat oriented or not, was covering their faces, making identification completely impossible. Even the voice was impossible to distinguish, thanks to the distorter that was mounted inside those helmets. It was a security measure used all around the galaxy.
Vindril, acting as if it were just another day in his crazy life, merely smiled warmly and then carefully displayed his right wrist. In it, embed within his flesh, there was the tiny microchip that revealed who he really was. It was a thing that had been adopted by the Empire some centuries ago to prevent any spies or impostors to create false documents. Of course, it was far from a perfect solution, as it was still possible to hacker them. Still, it was way harder to falsify then holographic ids. Those were completely useless. Vindril knew it. He had once happened to smuggle a box of false documents into a remote planet where security was less…attentive than normal. But, even if the client had spent a good amount of coins to buy the best counterfeiters on the market, things had not turned out for the best. Or so a contact of his had told him. After he had done his job, he couldn’t care less about what happened to his clients. That was just how he operated. And he was comfortable about it.
“So, what do you want?” asked the other guard, after his companion had finished verifying his credentials. “This isn’t the place for you.”
“Well, that much’s obvious.”
His attempt to lighten the mood had failed miserably. Better get on with it.
“I’ve heard the Academy is recruiting freelancers for some kind of-”
“Keep straight and walk into the small dome. Instructor Klevaric will test you.”
“Wait, test me? What the h-” he managed to stop just in time. “What are you talking about?”
The guards, however, simply replied that said Instructor was going to carefully explain everything. To be honest, he didn’t like any of that. It all seemed way too fishy to him. And it was a fact that trusting his inner guts had always served him well. But did it anyway. After all, he needed money. What other choice did he really have?
None.