#Martin K“I am never the problem” Blackwood

[dickwheelie]

I dont know if you're still doing requests but.., space pirates or just pirates au jmart 👉👈 i lov ur writing i think i might melt every time i read you

ohhh this was a fun prompt! it ended up being a little more space than pirates, but at least the jmart is there! thank you for the kind words and I hope you enjoy :))

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Jon didn't consider himself much of a hero. He had none of the necessary prerequisites, such as physical prowess, quick thinking under pressure, bravery, or a charming personality. He didn't even have the functionally useless but favorable bonus of dashing good looks. He may have been the captain on board a stolen spaceship, but that didn't mean he was particularly pirate-like himself. He entrusted the majority of the pirating to his small crew, who he privately considered much more capable than he was.

Tim and Sasha, he thought, now those two were hero types. They had the charisma, the skill, the bravery--they even had the good looks. Jon was perfectly fine with letting them take the wheel, as it were, in a crisis situation.

Such as the situation they were in right now.

The SS Magnus had been tearing across space, scanning for large, cushy vessels to pillage, when the mayday alert had sounded. Sasha, who worked communications, said that the mayday had come from an even smaller ship that was hurtling, out of control, through open space. The Magnus was the nearest vessel.

Tim took the pilot's seat and rushed to follow the downed ship's signal, but by the time he'd reached it, the ship had broken itself apart, leaving nothing but shredded metal in its wake. There were no signs of survivors in the wreckage.

Jon, Tim and Sasha shared a collective sigh of regret. They all knew the risks of space travel when they'd decided to become pirates, but it was never pleasant to be reminded of what could happen if a certain combination of things went wrong. Jon stared bleakly out of the cockpit window, then told Tim and Sasha that they might as well start scanning the wreckage for what they could find.

And then something bounced off the cockpit window.

"Was that--?" Jon said, dumbfounded.

"I think so," said Tim.

"Someone in a suit," Sasha said. "From the crash!"

And suddenly, Jon was the captain of a rescue mission.

Jon rushed towards the airlock at the aft of the ship, Tim and Sasha close behind him. When he reached it he could see outside the window the lone survivor, in their spacesuit, clinging for dear life to a handle on the side of the ship's hull.

Jon didn't pause to think. By the time Tim and Sasha arrived at the airlock, Jon was already suited up, and was about to open the innermost door.

"Jon!" Sasha called. "What are you doing?"

"They can't hold on forever," Jon said, "I have to grab them now!"

Once more he looked out the window at the survivor, trying to see beyond their blacked out visor, and caught a glimpse of a pair of wide, frightened eyes.

"It's okay!" Jon said, knowing the survivor couldn't hear him, but hoping they could read his lips. "I'm coming to rescue you! Don't, er, go anywhere!"

Jon put on his helmet and stepped into the airlock, hooking a long tether to his spacesuit. He let the airlock depressurize before opening the outermost door, floating out into the vacuum of space. Holding fast to the tether, he dragged himself out onto the hull, and found himself practically visor-to-visor with the lone astronaut.

Jon reached out his hand, and hoping they could see through his visor, said, "Take my hand! It'll be okay, I'm tethered to the ship!"

He couldn't be sure if the survivor had understood, but they did reach out their free hand, and for a moment their gloves strained towards one another until finally Jon caught hold of theirs, gripping it securely across the palm and wrist. He used the tether to pull them both backwards, towards the open airlock, and after a moment the survivor let go of the hull and clasped their other hand onto Jon's, letting him guide them safely back into the ship.

As soon as they were both inside and the airlock had pressurized again, Jon removed his helmet, breathing heavily with adrenaline, and watched as the survivor did the same.

Their hands moved shakily to detach their helmet, revealing dark curls and a brown face, covered in freckles and with a flushed, elated expression. The survivor looked to be a man, and a handsome one at that, though Jon refused to linger on that particular thought. At once he was at the survivor's side, checking for injuries, though with his suit on there wasn't much to see.

"Are you alright?" Jon asked him, though the question seemed silly considering how the man's day had been going so far.

"You . . . you saved me," the lone survivor said breathlessly, his eyes landing on Jon's. He had a nice voice, Jon thought absentmindedly.

"Yes," Jon said, not knowing what else to say.

The survivor gave Jon a beaming smile. "My hero."

"Um," said Jon. His stomach did something weird, and fluttery.

"I thought for sure I was dead. I'm pretty strong, but I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to hold on before spinning off into empty space. But you rescued me. Just like you said you would."

"I . . . try to keep my promises, yes," Jon said, hoping he wasn't blushing. "Who are you? What happened to your ship? Could there be anyone else alive out there?"

"Oh, right, of course. Sorry, my manners are a little rusty," said the survivor, with an awkward little laugh. "My name's Martin. Martin K Blackwood. It was just me on the ship. I was on a solo delivery run. The company I work for, Solus, they've been cutting down on personnel lately, so most shipping runs are solo now. Which means twenty-four-hour shifts at the wheel, minimum. It sucks, but it pays the bills. Or . . . it did." The survivor--Martin--stared out the window at the remains of his ship. "I'm still not sure what caused the engine to overheat and blow like that. I wouldn't be surprised if Solus weren't up to date on their safety checks. I managed to get my suit on and eject just in time, but then I was sure I was just gonna drift through space forever and die alone anyway."

Martin looked back at Jon, gratitude in his eyes. "But then you rescued me."

Jon wasn't going to be able to keep withstanding Martin's adoring looks if he kept this up. "I'm Jon," he said, trying to change the subject. "Captain of the SS Magnus. Illicit captain, rather. We're pirates."

"Pirates?" Martin's eyebrows shot up, and he looked Jon up and down. "You don't . . . seem like a pirate to me."

"We're basically only pirates by a technicality," Jon said. "We pillage the ships of the rich to give to those in need. Food, medical supplies, power sources, anything useful, really. Occasionally we'll steal a vessel, like this one, but that doesn't happen very often. There's only three of us, at the moment, so we make do however we can."

"Wow," Martin said. "So you're telling me--"

"I know," said Jon, "it's not all that impressive when you--"

"--I was rescued by actual pirates? And their swashbuckling captain is my hero?"

"O-Oh, well, um, that's not--" Jon was definitely blushing now.

Martin laughed. "Do you know how many romance novels I've read the back covers of that I'm putting to shame right now? Twenty-year-old me would be so jealous."

"I--I am not swashbuckling," Jon said, at a loss for anything else to say.

"Of course not." Martin grinned at him before his expression grew more somber. "Seriously, though, thank you. For saving me. I really had given up hope, for a moment there."

Jon nodded. "Of course. You're, ah, very welcome."

They shook hands, and Jon turned to the inner airlock door. "My crew are in there, waiting for us. Tim and Sasha. They're very good. We wouldn't have even found you and your ship without them."

"Then I'd better thank them, too," said Martin. "And--you said it was just the three of you right now, yeah?"

Jon tilted his head at him, unsure where Martin was going with this. "Yes, it is. But I assure you, we're a good team, we'll get you back to your home, or anywhere you'd like to go, safe and sound."

"That's sort of the problem," Martin said. "I . . . don't really have anywhere to go back to. If I go back to the company, they'll find out their ship was destroyed, and my insurance definitely doesn't cover that. If I go home, they'll find me just as easily and chase me down until I've paid. So . . ." Martin gave Jon a meaningful look. "Right about now would be a pretty good time for a career change."

Something clicked in Jon's head. He smiled at Martin, nodding sagely. "Yes, I see. I think we may be able to help you out with that, Martin." He thought for a moment. "You said you flew deliveries for Solus . . . how are you as a pilot?"

Martin grinned at him. "Good. Very good."

"Any moral qualms about stealing from the rich and giving to the poor?"

"None whatsoever."

"Then I don't see why we shouldn't bring you on board," Jon said, returning Martin's smile. "The SS Magnus has been looking for a new pirate to join her crew, and I think you'd fit right in."

Jon might not have been much of a hero, but he had managed to pull a man out of the way of certain death that day, and then bring him onto his crew, which had to count for something. At the very least, Jon thought as he introduced Tim and Sasha to their new pilot, the way Martin looked at him made him feel like the sort of person who really had done something extraordinary.