Another day, another credit
23 Sep 2020Keija Suresh
Keija sighed in weariness as he unclasped his seat harness, sliding out of the command chair on the flight deck of his Krait MK II. He winced slightly as he rubbed his bruised shoulder; evidence that the last dogfight hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd have liked."I've sent in the repair request to the dock techs, Captain. Will there be anything else?", a short, curvy woman asked as she climbed up onto the command deck, emerging from the bowels of the ship, her crisp Imperial voice bringing the man out of his grim musings.
"No, that'll be all, Alice. Good flyin' out there by the way, I see those modifications you made to the Condor have been worth the credits." He started to make his way down the corridor to his quarters but stopped as she placed a hand on his arm.
"You should really take some time to get off the ship for a while, sir. This station isn't exactly a tourist spot, but it does have some relaxing amenities that you might find helpful." Her tone was professional as always, but it didn't entirely mask the concern underlying it.
"Nah, I'm good. But you go on, have some fun for me, yeah?" He gave her a wry grin, but Alice merely arched her eyebrow skeptically, her expression cool. "I will enjoy myself, Captain, but I doubt it will be the kind of fun you have in mind."
He chuckled softly, patting her amiably on the shoulder before continuing on down the corridor. "I'll corrupt you one of these days, Ali, mark my words." Her cheeks colored slightly at that, almost as red as the hair on her head, but she didn't otherwise respond. "Very well, I'll see you tomorrow sir. I should have my suggestions for our next mission ready by then."
Keija didn't turn to watch her leave as her footsteps echoed across the steel grated walkway, instead continuing on into his quarters.
A short time later, he was lounging on his bunk, back propped against a bulkhead as he nursed a beer and read through the latest Galnet articles. Hm, looks like things are pickin' back up in the bubble, he thought. He read through a request sent out to all members of the Pilot's Federation for rare goods for Harold Duval's memorial, and snorted to himself in amusement. Fire opals? Brandy? Cigars? Guessing this won't be a solemn affair. The fact that Gutamaya is offerin a discount on their ships is pretty temptin though...been wantin one of those Imperial Clippers for ages. Gettin a permit for Achenar is a nice bonus too...hm. Looks like we're headin back to Simyr for the cargo hauler.
Something felt off about the whole thing though. He couldn't shake the feeling, and he'd learned to trust his instincts when it came to these things. Maybe I'll have Ali bring the Gehenna along as well...just in case.
He set the datapad down and gazed at the viewscreen tuned to the silent starfield outside the station. One thing was for sure, the next few weeks would be interesting, to say the least.