----------------------------------------------------------------
Sitting on the bridge of her ship with a frown as she went through the dossier delivered with the Admiral's personal thoughts. Captain Andriet was dreading meeting with this commander Finley. That feeling only seemed to increase as she watched the civilian fleet he commanded forcibly drag Ethuci's task force towards the planet via tractor. "Open a com to commander Finley."
Andriet wasn't quite sure what to expect from reading the man's bio other than the fact that he was a rude man with a disregard for military authority. But seeing Finley on the main display for the first time, she was rather unimpressed.
Sure he was tall and muscular, built just how she liked her men. But he was also rather plain-looking... He almost seemed harmless. "Commander, care to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to tractor an Aasteran military authority against their will was a good idea? Are you trying to start a war or just sabotage all the work I've done so far?" She stated hotly, watching closely as the man's face scrunched up in anger.
It was at that moment Andriet quickly realized she might have just underestimated the man in front of her as he stood from his crash couch and walked towards the camera recording him.
Stopping to collecting himself as not to snap at the lady. Finley began to explain the problems ahead. "Look, you're cute, so I'll spell this out real slowly, captain. Off the top of your head, how many people are dying on Aaster right now?" Finley retorted, keeping a close eye on the lady as she fumbled for words. "Save your breath. The numbers in the report you gave me are wrong. It's nearly twice as much as you're thinking." He added.
Turning to walked back to his command couch as his anger cooled, Finley turned back to his monitor. "Whichever bigwig is in charge of the space colonies is obviously skewing the numbers. For what reason, I don't know. But even an amateur could have seen that after a certain age, they move cold death and starvation into natural causes. Your dispersal of resources is mediocre at best, and you haven't even put your own forces on rations in an attempt to increase the food supplies to the surface. So before you give me lip, get your shit together and do a better job."
Andriet was speechless at the man who stared at her through the display. Standing up from her chair and taking a slow step forward, she decided that discretion was the best way of dealing with Finley. "I will defer to your experience, Commander Finley. However, Don't you dare think I will allow you to speak to me in such a manner. I came here to do a job, and I intend to see it through. That does not mean I'll let you insult my crew or me."
Finley smiled and shifted in his chair. "Good, that's all I need you to do. I'm sending my action plans for your ships over now. I suggest you read through them carefully, maybe twice. I don't need you missing anything important and setting the project back."
Andriet received a notification on her data link and watched as the man cut the com. "What a jackass." Andriet thought as she sat down in her command couch. Luckily that seemed to be the going consensus on the bridge as she opened up the plans he had sent her. That soon changed as she read through the massive file he had sent her. Everything was outlined right down to how to treat a crying child with a scraped knee. It took over an hour, but she finally reached the end with a smile. She yawned and stretched as she began sending new orders to her ground crew while reorganizing her ships. "Least he's a competent jackass."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Currently stuffing his face with what amounts to cheese, potatoes, and ham Michael was enjoying a meal he hadn't had in months."Oh man, this is amazing. I can't believe you made this for me!"
"You're very much welcome. Jack told me it was your favourite and helped me to make it. Though I have to admit, I quite enjoy this flavour myself for how simple it is. Adding four types of dairy to shredded potatoes, was it? Created quite the dish." Srettia replied, shovelling more into her mouth.
"Terrans use cheese and cream in a wide variety of dishes. Some spend their entire life in the creation of new types of dairy blocks."
"Yeah, remind me never to try Gray clar cheese ever again. The stuff tasted like a five-hundred-year-old colony wall."
"I will not ask how you know what that tastes like, partner. But I will judge you for it."
"Awe common, just look at him, Jack. Of course, he's licked an old wall. It wouldn't surprise me if he knew what carpet or flooring taste like too."
"Well, I know what carpet tastes like." Michael shot back with a wink.
Confused, Srettia just shrugged and continued to eat. " You Terrans are weird."
"What he means is that he enjoys going do-"
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
"And you can stop right there, Jack, my friend." Michael spat out through a mouth full of food in a successful attempt to interrupt Jack.
"You are no fun partner."
"You two are being dumb." Srettia replied, setting her empty dish aside and stretching her tail.
Michael polished off the remaining food and cleaned the dishes, letting Srettia move to the rec room to lay on the couch and relax. "You're gonna get me in trouble, you know." He said, looked into a nearby camera.
"You bring these things on yourself, Partner."
"Well, that's true. We're going to have to figure out what she likes and make her something now. Any idea besides berries? I mean, I know she seems to love anything with the word berry in it so far, so that narrows things down pretty quickly." Placing the last dish on the reclaimer and grabbing two drinks, Michael started to make his way to the rec room.
"So far, it is meat, assorted berries, and fermented fruits. More trial and error is required. Though right now, you could make her a meat cake, and she would be happy with that."
"Hey man, Don't knock meat cake. There are some good ones out there. But I get what you mean." Walking into the rec room, Michael moved to sit on the couch, Handing Srettia a cold cider as he sat down.
"A COLD fermented drink? You're not up to something, are you?" Srettia asked with suspicion, leaning on Michael as he sat down.
"If I was, you wouldn't suspect it. I am a master of sneaky." Obviously sneaking his arm around Srettia, Michael let out a chuckle.
"More like you would not be aware you were attempting something sneaky."
Taking a sip from his beer, Michael relaxed on the couch. "Well, what do you want to do?"
"Right now? This is fine. Just put on some random movie or something. Tomorrow, I want you to teach me how to fly as you do, how to be a fighter pilot."
"Well, that was kinda the plan, but I'm guessing you want to lean more on the kill things type of flying. If so, I won't go easy on you, ya know. You'll have to learn proper tactics and how to win a joust." Picking a couple of movies with realistic space combat in them. He began to explain what they got right and what was wrong while enjoying his drink.
Srettia was listening closely to Michael as he enthusiastically spoke about space and flying. He spoke about how momentum would affect her ship, which was apparently now closer to a small corvette in mass. And honestly, she found it quite charming as he spoke at length over the movies. It reminded her of a youth's first time sharing heat, causing her to let out a small chuckle.
"Something funny about plugging a hole made by a railgun with your hand?" Michael asked, quirking an eye.
"No, it's not that. Just finding it fun listening to your explanations." Stretching her legs and tail, Srettia finally felt the fatigue of the day catching up. "I think it's time for us to get some sleep."
"Alright, that sounds like a plan. I'm getting a bit sleepy myself." Getting up along with Srettia, Michael began walking towards the crew rooms.
Walking up to his door, Michael turned to bid goodnight to Srettia, who had seemingly disappeared during his walk. Ignoring it and moving into his quarters, Michael walked into his room to get some shuteye. Quickly Dressing down and jumping into bed.
Gathering her nightclothes from the fabricator, Srettia moved into the bathroom to clean up, making sure to take the extra time to polish her scales and horns before she changed. leaving the restroom, she moved to the bedroom and slipped into bed. "Asleep already, guess I wasted too much time." Cuddling up to Michael's back, she wrapped her tail around his waist and fell asleep.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a dark room within the depths of Leda. A man sat alone, bound to an old metal chair. The lighting in the room was dim, the noise none existent, and the air stale. The man's face was bruised, his leg twisted in the wrong direction from a long fall and his clothes stained with blood from an apparent slug wound.
Tanda slowly opened his swollen eyes and looked around the darkroom. "Well, this is a fine mess I got myself into." He mumbled out, soon realizing his mouth was sore and his throat dry. "Let's take stock on what kind of mess we have here. Two-way mirror check, bound to a bolted-down chair check, the metal table is also bolted down check. It looks like I'm in big big trouble." A clicking at the door caught his weary attention.
Watching closely as three masked men walked in and placed a datapad on the table, Tanda realized just how screwed he was. "Chief Engineer Tanda seventh fleet last name withheld. Born to lunar colony 159, both parents alive, an impressive eleven siblings. I could go on, but you get the picture. Now let's skip this hassle and get to why you're here. First, Might I ask what you were thinking when you started crawling down that wiring tunnel, also what possessed you to hug a pipe of antimatter for such a long time?"
Tanda gave the masked man a funny look through swollen eyes. "I wanted to see the jump core. Why else would I do something like that? Are you stupid?"
The masked man seemed unfazed and continued his line of questioning. "What would you do if you happen to see the jump core?"
Tanda sighed. This man was either dropped on his head or dull. "I would study it and learn how it was made. It'll eventually be put on every single ship in the fleet, so why not get a head start? Besides, I don't even know why the core is still classified. Everyone out here knows it's a new type of jump core. You just flew a damn moon out here in under a day. How do you intend to stop this many people from talking when they get back to Terran space?"
"Our orders are to keep it classified until further notice." The masked man replied.
Tanda smashed his head against the table in exasperation. It was cool, so he kept his head on the table and replied to the assumed idiot. "It's not a very well kept secret then, is it? JUST LET ME SEE THE DAMN CORE. YA GREEDY BASTARDS!"
"You have already seen the core, sir. We're just waiting on orders from our superiors on your punishment." The masked man replied.
Leaving the datapad on the table, the three men turned and left the room. An audible click was heard before the silence returned.
Tanda thought about what the man had said and tried to get a look at the datapad left behind. Bending over and using his nose to activate the screen, It took him a few minutes to realize what he was looking at, but eventually, Tanda began laughing and started to read what could only be the jump core blueprints. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with those guys, but I guess they're okay." Wincing as his leg began to throb, he realized just how messed up he was. "Now, if he only left me some med nanites."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------