Time to make the sausage.
23 Dec 2020Dominic Winters
Dominic entered the bridge as per his usual routine. Flight suit already on, helmet tucked under his left arm and a cup of Cubeo coffee in his right hand. “Commander on deck!”, someone called out. Everyone snapped-to for a split second before the realization dawns. This isn’t the Federation Navy, there’s no need for the pomp and flair.
“Shut the fuck up and get back to work!” Rings out from the far side of the bridge. Dom grins and looks at the speaker. “What?! Are you too good to pop to attention for your glorious leader Mack?”
“That’s Captain Mack to you, oh Glorious Commander Sir!”, she retorted back.
Dom chuckled and turned his attention to the young ensign. “For real though, stow that shit and shove it out the damn airlock kid. This ain’t the Navy, and we aren’t doing that shit.” Dom said. The young ensign relaxed slightly, but from the brighty rosey shade of blush forming on his cheeks was obviously still struggling to come to terms with his new position aboard The Devil’s Due.
Dom strode farther onto the bridge up to the command table. The command table was a holographic projector, similar to the standard displays familiar to all ship pilots. A holographic bubble indicating the position of the carrier, with a mixture of rectangle and triangle indicators showing the relation of several unaffiliated ships in sensor range. A quick glance confirmed that only green triangles were present. This indicates the local system patrol was on station, with hardpoints deployed ready for trouble.
“Ok, ‘Captain’ Mack….what’s the sitrep?” Dom asked Captain Symphony Macias.
“Quiet and boring Dom. Just the way I like it.” replied Mack. “Not that I’m complaining, but why the fuck are we in this backend ass system Dom?”
“Why do we go anywhere Mack? Credits, credits and more credits. The local’s put out a Galnet wide request for assistance with the local pirates. Sooooo, we’re here to put the hurt on em and hopefully turn a nice profit at the same time.” Dom said. The 89 Leonis Republic Party had put out a sizable bounty on another local faction, the 89 Lenois Blue Posse. Reports showed that the Posse had recently begun stepping up Rez site piracy. The Devil’s Due had been in orbit for roughly a standard week already. The mission had already been explained to Mack, but that didnt stop her from constantly bitching about it.
“You know, if you’re that bored you could suit your ass up and go collect some bounties yourself.” Dom continued.
“Ha, you don’t pay me enough for that.” Mack replied.
“Excuses, excuses….” Dom chuckled and finished his coffee. Mack was a good carrier captain, but she was a shit pilot and knew it. Just getting her into a copilot seat required promises of safety and ridiculous sums of credits. It was generally not worth the effort.
Dom sat silently for a bit watching the bridge crew do their thing. While it was true, they weren’t a part of any Navy but they were professionals in their own right. Everyone knew their job, and the job of the person to their right or left. There was a constant buzz of activity as ships were cleared for docking and undocking. Alerts were piped in for fuel and arming crews. The occasional repair crew could be heard over channels discussing damage reports and repair estimates. After several minutes, Mack returned carrying her own cup of coffee.
“Dom, you’ve got a message flagged as high priority over the Inara net.” she stated.
“Roger, I’ll check it out in the ready room”, he replied.
Dom stood and gathered up his helmet. He strode back the way he had entered, however instead of returning down the passageway veered left into an adjoining room. Inside was a room filled with chairs facing a lectern and holo-display. This room was generally used for briefing pilots and mission planning, which many times were of a classified or confidential nature. Because of this, there were multiple security measures in place to allow for secure transmissions and to prevent eavesdropping. He made his way to the lectern and with a punch of a few buttons had sealed the room. The message was from Ghost Legion - Shadow Division HQ. As he read through the message, he felt a twinge of disappointment. It was another faction support mission. Not just that, but it was in the system he had just left a few weeks prior. He sighed as he unsealed the room.
“Mack, plot a course for
“You’re shitting me right?! We just left there.” came the annoyed response.
“I wish I were. Just get it done. Have the flight deck start prepping ‘Rockhound’ for launch once we exit Witchspace. I’m on my way down there now.”, he replied.
“Aye, aye Commander.”, Mack responded. She could be a mouthy pain in the ass, but she was loyal and did her job without fail. Dom secured his helmet to his suit and checked his suit readout. After ensuring it was all green, he began making his way down to the flight deck. It was time to make the sausage.