Pack Lunches And Prayer

Posted on Tue Nov 5th, 2019 @ 3:27pm by Commanding Officer Soto Nabaal & Commanding Officer Mickey Serendipity & Pilot Allegra Jennings & Executive Officer Kenneth McTigue & Comm Tech Wulf Edevane

Mission: The Forgotten Arm
Location: Commons/Galley, SS Albatross
Timeline: Eros Incident T-minus 20 hours

It was nice not being on the float anymore.

Latched onto the docking cradle of Eros Station, the Albatross was now subjected to the artificial spin gravity generated by a 10-kilometre long rock rolling through the void. Put a nice 1/3G spring into the step, and made pouring any liquid a nightmare as the fluid performed a lazy zig-zag in the Coriolis effect. Not that a space ship would have an open fluid container anywhere on a space ship, but once burned never again.

A lot of the furniture on the 'Tross was designed to either fold away, or to reorientate to be useful with a new 'down'. The table had rotated on its arm so it was a table, and not a smart whiteboard with notes on it. Which it also was when not being a table, as there was a little corner of the table devoted to 'Roger The Rug' sightings. The little man-made bath mat starfish had a habit of escaping the enclosed gravity shower. Fortunately, Roger was more than often than not found.

Unlike a fucking marketing jingle mug from hell.

"We do this every time we make port, but for the sake of pampering to shipboard democracy, who here wants the XO's speech on what he expects from you before we undog the hatch to Eros Station?" Mickey Serendipity asked, looking around the table at the other Albatross crew members.

Wulf raised his hand. He liked that speech, it was rousing and somewhat comforting and it felt made him feel like he was home. And there was no damn way he was saying any of that out loud.

"Don't get too drunk, don't get too beaten up, don't get banged up?" Ken asked from the doorway he was leaning against. He was sporting a Ceres M&T t-shirt under his jumpsuit. "I think we all remember your speech from the last time we hit docks Mick."

"And yet..." Mickey held up his terminal and flicked some images from its memory to the white board's display surface. "...tampering with station property. Joyriding a municipal cart whilst under the influence of Class D hallucinogens. Drunken disorder. Just plain old disorderly. And my favourite to date defacing the likeness of a corporate brand. I mean this is just the highlight reel I've picked out over the years we've all been together. Need I remind you that having the local Security Contractors do a spot check is one thing, having them do one with prejudice means they do not accept the gratuities we provide. They find things."

Mickey didn't look directly at Wulf, but he did wave a hand in the Comm Tech's direction.

“She said it was a mushroom omelette,” Wulf said quietly. “And that cart got home safer than I did. But… I got some dirt on the Security Chief on Eros. 4K quality dirt.” He was about to say something about pole-dancing ladies and breakfast cereal, when Ken beat him to it.

Ken laughed, "In my defence, that logo looked a lot better after I did my magic."

"Ya know," Allegra piped up from behind Ken, "He's got a valid point."

"Yes but the Happy Kawola Chocolate Company has lawyers. Lawyers on retainer from their parent company Hadrian Fusion Systems. That's why, Ken, you have a Chinese phrasebook in engineering because we can't buy parts from them anymore," Mickey held up his hands. "We are drifting off course here folks. Please do not add to my scrapbook of minor civil offences."

He tapped his terminal, and a chirp of file transfer echoed from the pockets where the others kept theirs.

"Thanks to the nice folks at Protogen we have a week all expenses paid vacation at the Eros Lux, one of the few four-star hotel casino's Eros Station has to offer. Gambling, drink, food grown from real cows, not protein cultures. Not to mention companionship by the hour should any of you feel the need to spend your pay packets," Mickey held up a finger. "Account info is attached to the room keys. As stipulated in your contracts you all get equal shares of the 30% leftover from the ship, minus the Captain and I's 7%. That rounds down to 30'120 Ceres New Yen, or a 250K UN Adjusted Dollar's if you feel like playing with your numbers. Your bail will come out of your pay, just putting that out there."

Allegra gave the engineer a friendly pat on his back as she slid past and into the room, ignoring the tiny chirp from her pocket. "Food from real cows, always a good time." She fought the urge to snicker at the XO's mention of paid companionship, though, Ally thought it was reasonable enough if one of them really wanted to go that route. They'd get no judgement from her. Maybe a bit of teasing, for fun. Settling into a chair green eyes traveled around the room, "Ain't bailing anyone out this time." Which, was really a lie, because all it would take was a 'please' and she'd be there.

"And no credit extension. You break your account rolling craps at the Eros Lux, or a medina level pachinko parlour, you cover it out of your own savings," Mickey said as he looked over his terminal. "Some minor housekeeping stuff to go through first. Looks like between now and the last time we shared air with Eros, Bright Star Security lost the contract with the UN Leadership to bust heads. New outfit out of Earth by the name CPM Security. No details on their record, but assume worse than Ceres and you can't go wrong."

Money. Lots of money. Which was way more of a novelty for the others than it was for him, but still he’d intended to have plenty of fun during this week off, Mickey’s speech (as the XO knew) faded from all their minds as soon as they stepped into leave time. A whole week. Four stars. That really was a decent payout. Wulf watched the others interact, studied Mickey’s face in reaction and smiled a quiet, lopsided smile.

Family. These guys were more family than anyone else had really been, even if he still knew very little about their past. The last two years had told him more than enough about their present. He raised his hand again, hit the XO with a direct look.

“Can we go now?” Wulf asked. “There’s some stuff I wanna set up. And…” He looked shifty for a second. “Not like last time, Mickey, I got the kinks worked out of the software now. Ally won't have to bail Ken and me out...” Which was a good thing since the security detail had apparently changed the guard.

"I am going to do my best to forget any knowledge that you may or may not have put a tap into the Eros Station security feed. Ya know, for the eventual polygraph," Mickey said with a sigh of the condemned. He made a little shooing gesture. "Go get your travel kits, once the Captain's signed off on the delivery to our contact on the station you're on liberty. During that time I and Soto will go about finding us our next payday."

He tapped a button, and the whiteboard blanked out replaced by the Albatross angular avian logo.

"Until then enjoy Eros," he then narrowed his eyes at Wulf. "And the next 'fungal experiment' you decide to eat, words from an old rider of the storm: small bites and wait. Or else the Patron Saint of Hull Breach's will come out of your ass and rip out your soul. "

The look Allegra tossed Wulf was clearly said that she didn't believe him. But hearing that there was new security on Eros, and with what happened with the Cant, Mickey's warning from earlier echoed in her head. It wasn't going to keep her from enjoying her week of paid leave though. That was just too much to turn down. "Ain't gotta tell me twice." She pulled her terminal from her pocket to checked the file he'd sent.

"That's what she said," Wulf quipped. "Well, actually it was (1)'nebol'shiye ukusy i terpeniye' but close enough." He let his dark eyes lock solemnly with Mickey's though and gave the XO a short, honest nod that told the older man he understood the message, loud and clear. Then he shook his head in disbelief of Allegra's disbelief and turned his attention to their engineer. "Ken," the comms tech added. "Which bar we starting at?"

Silent Mickey looked towards the ceiling, hands raised in prayer to Patchamama and all her vac-suited saints. Hopefully, her intervention would come before the appointed heat death of the universe, which probably wouldn't be soon enough.

OOC: (1)Russian:'Small bites and patience'