Obliquity

Everybody Needs Four Things

Soberer by the second and not at all happy about it, Kaz stood on Galactic Central's expansive observation deck and glowered at yet another swarm of space-limos exiting the launch bay, fresh from dumping their precious cargo of bigwigs and blowhards. Even 180 landing pads (a number Kaz was now all too familiar with) couldn't accommodate the volume of world-leaders arriving for the Pan-Galactic Council, so after offloading only their most officious passengers—with the barest minimum of ceremony—the vehicles and lesser dignitaries were being shunted down to the planet of Prima Prime, there to be housed among the legions of bureaucrats and support staff vital to keeping Galactic Central running, yet not important enough to warrant a place on the great satellite itself.

He yawned. Wasting his time hanging around a bunch of over-dressed, pompous politicians was not what he'd joined the Sentinels for. In fact he'd joined pretty much to avoid that kind of thing. If he was into hobnobbing, he may as well have stayed on Rigel and kept his parents happy.

And it wasn't like that was ever going to happen.

Yeah, the Sentinels were a fading force and yeah, they had the kind of long-term career prospects enjoyed by suicide bombers and Galactic Idol contestants, but at least they offered the chance of some excitement . Some variety. Something other than spending his days stuck in endless mind-numbing meetings and summits, smiling politely at people he couldn't stand while discussing subjects he couldn't care less about. The rest of his family were welcome to that life. Give him an interceptor and and an interloper and insane odds any day of the week.

Or pirates. Pirates could be fun, too. Pirates like the ones Cam had gone to sort out while leaving Kaz to cool his heels here in what had to be the boringest, safest and least-in-need-of-a-Sentilest place in the whole stinking galaxy. His loyalty to his CO was beyond question, but the Earthman could be bloody annoying at times. Times like now. It was obvious keeping an eye on the bigshots was work for the senior-most Sentinel. Taking on a bunch of space-pirates, on the other hand? That was right up Kaz's alley.

An announcement on PA system distracted him from his discontent.

"Your attention please. Galactic Central Control regrets to advise offworld visitors that due to the current unstable space weather a state of interstellar lockdown will exist from oh-nine-hundred Galactic Standard Time. Those unable to secure out-system passage prior to that time are required to arrange transport to and accommodation on Prima Prime at their earliest convenience. We trust you will enjoy your stay here in the heart of the Galactic Conglomerate. While onworld, why not visit one of the many sites of historical interest? Sites such as the Megalith of Records, with its several billion volumes of legislative details, the Amphitheatre of Archives, with its rich and minutely detailed biographies of every one of the countless thousands of councillors to have ever served the Conglomerate and...and...many others. Don't forget to use the code 'I heart amendments' for 10% off the price of admission and a free tote bag. Have a pleasant day or night or whichever time period is relevant to your metabolism and/or frame of reference."

No wonder they were in such a hurry to get the pollies on board. Watching the final few stragglers making their way into the docking bay, Kaz's expression brightened as he noticed the planet and hammer sigil borne by the ships of the very last flotilla to dock—the sigil which marked them as being from his homeworld.

While in no hurry to head back to Rigel anytime soon, he was quite happy to catch up with his own kind if the opportunity arose. And given the circles his family moved in, there was every chance he'd know at least one or two of the Rigellian deputation. He'd take whatever distractions he could find, given his 100% certainty the next few days would contain nothing exciting whatsoever.

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"Shhh!"