We're in Space ... So What?

Chapter 7: First I Hate it Here, Now I Love It

Ryan stood at the shipyard, staring at the massive pile of scrap metal in front of him. His job was simple: sort it, clean it, and make sure it was ready for use. But as he picked up a piece of rusted debris, he couldn't help but groan inwardly.

"This is what my life has come to," he muttered under his breath, tossing the scrap into the correct bin.

The foreman, a grizzled alien with four arms and a cigar permanently wedged between his teeth, ambled over. "You're slow, human," the foreman growled. "Pick up the pace or you'll be scrapping your own body parts by the end of the day."

Ryan gritted his teeth, determined not to get into it with the guy. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on it."

He worked in silence, his mind wandering to all the exciting things Judah and Jamie were doing while he was stuck here in the muck. The hours dragged on, and by the time his shift was over, Ryan's hands were covered in grime, and his patience was wearing thin.

"Alright, I'm done," Ryan muttered to himself as he walked off the shipyard, barely having earned enough credits for a meal. "There's gotta be something better than this."

Ryan's next attempt at employment was no less disastrous. Somehow, through a series of poorly thought-out decisions, he had agreed to babysit for a wealthy alien family. How hard could it be? Watch a couple of alien kids for a few hours, make some easy money, and be done with it.

He quickly realized his mistake.

The "kids" he was supposed to be watching turned out to be twin alien toddlers who could levitate, multiply objects by touch, and communicate telepathically... but only with each other. Every time Ryan tried to get one of them to sit still, the other would float off into the air, cackling telepathically as toys multiplied around the room like an ever-growing mountain of chaos.

"Come down from there!" Ryan shouted, reaching for one of the floating toddlers who was hovering dangerously close to the ceiling fan.

The kid giggled telepathically, turning invisible for a moment, then reappearing just out of Ryan's reach.

This was a disaster.

Three hours later, after finally corralling the children and returning them to their very unimpressed parents, Ryan left the house frazzled and frustrated. The only thing he had earned was a massive headache and a renewed hatred for telepathy.*

By the third job, Ryan had given up on finding anything exciting and accepted a job as a barback at a local tavern. His job was to clean glasses, haul kegs, and occasionally break up fights. It wasn't glamorous, but after the shipyard and the alien babysitting fiasco, it seemed like a peaceful reprieve.

At first, Ryan approached the job with a sense of resigned detachment. It was just something to do until they raised enough money for the ship. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened: Ryan actually started enjoying the work. The other bar staff were a ragtag group of aliens and humans, each with their own quirks, and they welcomed Ryan like he'd been there forever.

One of the bartenders, a sarcastic alien named Klik with four eyes and a wicked sense of humor, quickly became Ryan's favorite person to work with. Klik always had a joke ready, and the two would banter while serving customers.

"So, how's it feel being the only human in a bar full of aliens?" Klik asked one evening as they cleaned up after closing.

"Honestly? Better than babysitting telepathic toddlers," Ryan said, tossing a rag into the sink.

Klik snorted, his many eyes blinking in amusement. "Good to know we rank above that."

The longer Ryan worked there, the more he found himself getting invested in the day-to-day drama of the bar. There was always something happening-whether it was the never-ending feud between two regulars who couldn't stand each other but refused to drink anywhere else, or the ongoing saga of the cook's disastrous attempts at brewing his own alien beer.

One night, Ryan was in the middle of breaking up a fight between two rowdy patrons when he realized something strange: he was actually enjoying himself. The chaos of the bar, the camaraderie with his coworkers, the weird assortment of regulars-it had all grown on him. For the first time since landing on the planet, Ryan didn't feel like he was just biding time. He felt like he belonged.

Months later-well, *weeks* for Judah and Jamie, but they had become a blur for Ryan-the three of them gathered at the bar after a successful day. Judah had secured sponsorship deals from local businesses, Jamie had brokered more than enough lucrative trades with Kreelix, and Ryan had, surprisingly, accumulated a decent stash of credits from his job at the tavern.

As they sat together at a table, counting their earnings, Jamie leaned back with a satisfied grin. "Looks like we did it. We've got enough for a new ship."

Judah cracked his knuckles. "Finally. Let's get out of here."

Jamie clapped his hands together. "Alright! First thing tomorrow, we're hitting the shipyard and buying ourselves the best ship credits can buy."

Ryan, however, wasn't as enthusiastic. He looked down at the credits he'd earned, then glanced around the bar, where Klik was serving drinks and the regulars were laughing over some inside joke. His stomach knotted.

"You alright, man?" Jamie asked, noticing the look on Ryan's face.

Ryan sighed. "I... I don't know if I want to leave."

Judah raised an eyebrow. "You what?"

"I kind of... like it here," Ryan said, almost sheepishly. "I've got a job I actually enjoy. The people are great, and there's this whole soap-opera level of drama going on in the bar that I'm kinda invested in."

Jamie blinked, then started to laugh. "Are you serious? You've gone soft, man."

Ryan shot him a look. "I'm serious. I never thought I'd say this, but I think I actually like this place."

Judah shrugged, downing the last of his drink. "Well, we're leaving tomorrow either way. Whether you come or not is up to you."

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, torn between his loyalty to his friends and the sense of belonging he had finally found. "I just... need to think about it."

Jamie smirked. "Hey, no pressure. I mean, we're probably gonna go on more adventures, fight more aliens, and get into some crazy situations. But if you'd rather stay here and pour drinks..."

Ryan chuckled. "You make it sound boring, but this place has its own charm."

Judah stood up, patting Ryan on the back. "Sleep on it. We'll figure it out in the morning."

As Jamie and Judah left the bar, Ryan lingered, watching his coworkers clean up. Klik caught his eye and waved him over.

"Hey, human! You sticking around or heading out with your crazy friends?"

Ryan hesitated, then smiled. "I'm not sure yet. But this place... it's growing on me."