Jonny's feet were crossed, resting on the pod's control panel. The smoke rose slowly, creating a haze within the close confines of the capsule. The second one was an afterthought, stubbed out on the dashboard before halfway finished. He had to much to do, and even for him free time was an unaffordable luxury.
The third was an hour later, in the deserted crew lounge. He often came here to sit at the rusted mess table. He would bring his New Eden digi-rag and catch up on two week old news. Every now and then a story would peak his interest and he would look about as if to tell someone, but there was no one to tell. There hadn't been anyone in this mess hall for over twenty years.Three more, in close succession. The result of several frustrating attempts to fix a breach in the starboard hull. A rat had eluded one of the hammers a few hours earlier and the result had been a hairline fracture in the hull. When it was finally done, he rewarded himself with the seventh. He took his time with this one; savouring every taste.
One more on the way back to the pod. It left a trail as he walked, diffusing with the stale interior air. A long time ago the ship's circulatory system would have quickly replaced the air, but now the great fans were silent, and the the scents of several years lurked at every turn.
The tenth was to settle back into the pod seat. It felt unnecessary, but had become like a ritual to Jonny. It would have been bad luck not to. As he stubbed it out on the makeshift plate-ashtray, he looked at the pack. He shook his head; always a glass half empty sort of guy.
The eleventh was attached to a daydream. A recollection of his time in the Federal Navy. He had been posted aboard a deep space scout and the endless boredom had been the catalyst of his habit. It was the long days like this that always reminded him of his youth.
He burned through four whilst attempting to pry open an airlock that had rusted shut. The unknown chamber that lay beyond the door had fascinated him for weeks and been the subject of several fantasies. He had imagined crates of long-forgotten liquor, or perhaps trade goods of an illegal nature. The actual contents had been dissapointing; several stained uniforms and a collection of belts with buckles depicting the Epsilon Mining emblem. He lit the sixteenth as a consulation, already planning on how he would force access into the sealed locker he had seen on the engineering deck.
One more on the upper observation deck during a break. From here he could see the retriever's lasers lighting up the asteroid field. The sound of the ship's powerplant did not match the light show, but he could not stand the silence and always imagined that the beams were the source of the noise.
Two more during a subspace transmission. Tai Saan had always hated him smoking, so he was careful to exhale quietly. When he lit the second, he did so with his arm extended away from the mic. Her change in tone suggested he had failed in his subterfuge.
He almost had the last whilst bringing the hammers back into the drone bay. He resisted and thought instead of how he would spend his down time. Probably the same way he did every night; drinking far more than he should, and having Tai lead him back to his quarters to sleep it off.
Finally, back in the pod, he placed the last one between his lips. Smiling with contentment, he activated the warp drive and lit the cigarette. Inhaling slowly, he sat back in his control seat, the now-empty pack discarded on the control panel.
"...sure wish these things were legal" he muttered with a sigh...
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