Spacewalk: Space Opera

In space, no-one can hear you scream. Except for the twat on the other end of your intercom, the one who persuaded you to do a one-only spacewalk on the outside of the ship because he thought he saw "something weird" and he's going to stay inside to give you directions. Right. She sighed, more than entirely expecting that he was about to sever her umbilical airline and go straight for the main base himself. All the heavy lifting was done. He could get in, sell the ore they'd harvested, and laugh all the way to the bank. There were always spacers looking for a berth, and maybe this time he'd get lucky and find a not-hideous one who didn't recoil when he offered to bunk together, one who would be happy to play second fiddle to a man who she now suspected only had the ship because--

Inspiration: Ah, I've been reading some space opera lately, and I really like it.
Story Potential: High, if only because this can go so many directions.
Notes: Does he? Doesn't he? What comes next?