Airlock Blues
Jesus Miranda stared at the airlock control panel, its red lights blinking like a dying star. The airlock had been malfunctioning for weeks, but now it was refusing to open entirely.
He checked the maintenance logs, but they were as cryptic as the station's bureaucratic reports. There was no record of repairs, no assigned technician, and no clear explanation for the airlock's failure.
Jesus sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had a meeting in ten minutes, and the airlock was still sealed.
Johnathan Small poked his head through the door, his expression one of mild curiosity. 'You're still stuck with the airlock?' he asked, leaning against the frame.
Jesus nodded. 'It's not just the airlock,' he said. 'The whole station's a disaster waiting to happen.'
Johnathan chuckled. 'You're not the first person to say that. You'll be the first to fix it, though.'
Jesus didn't respond, but he knew Johnathan was right. He had spent the last month trying to convince the station's management that something had to be done.
With a deep breath, Jesus pulled a wrench from his tool belt and began working on the airlock. He didn't know what he was doing, but he had no choice.
Hours later, the airlock hissed open, revealing a view of the stars. Jesus leaned against the frame, staring out at the vastness of space.
The next morning, a new sign appeared on the airlock: 'Maintenance Completed by Jesus Miranda.' It wasn't a formal commendation, but it was enough to draw the attention of the station's governing council. They arrived with clipboard in hand, demanding an explanation for the unauthorized repairs. Jesus stood his ground, explaining that the airlock was a critical system and that the station's safety depended on it. To his surprise, the council listened. They agreed to fund a full systems overhaul and even promoted Jesus to head of maintenance.