Isaac left his house to a trusted mechanic for maintenance, and went to a nearby Spacebar to relax.
Just as he was about to order a beer from the bartender, he spotted a fight not too far from his seat.
‘I swear, Fretlan, I had no choice! Those things got me right before the Lakota System. If I stayed there…’
‘C’mon, old man, don’t you make this difficult for us. You owe us, and now you gonna pay. This whole “jellyfish” thing stinks like my grandma’s ol’ boots, anyway.”
‘Hey!’, Isaac shouted, just as the group closed around the old man. He lifted a picture for a split second. ‘Lieutenant Moore, International Space Corps. Have we got a problem, here?’
The rough and vulgar men exchanged glimpses with each other. Then, the one who seemed their boss spoke up.
‘Oh no, Lieutenant, we were just lettin’ the ol’ man know how we care ‘bout his health. I’m sure he got our concern.’
‘Concern my ass’, Isaac replied. His heart raced in his throat, so loud he feared they could hear it.
‘If I spot you scum around this poor man once again, I’ll make sure you’ll only see the deep intensity of space behind bars for the rest of your days.’
The men looked at each other. Their leader nodded, and the whole flock started to migrate out of the bar. The old man waited for them to disappear, then thanked Isaac profusely.
‘I don’t know what they’d do to me, if you didn’t show up. Thank you, lieutenant!’
‘Please, old man’, Isaac replied. ‘I’m not a lieutenant. That was my space licence. I just don’t like bullies.’
The old man opened his eyes wide.
‘Now’, Isaac resumed, grabbing a chair nearby. ‘Please, tell me about that “Lakota System” of yours…’
Pingback: Read Anthony L. Wolf's writing portfolio | Anthony Wolf