Surviving my Scholarship

Identity

I stop in my tracks at the sight of the thing on the runway. The captain is at the hatch yelling at some fueler nearby. I count myself lucky her back is turned to me. She probably would have recalled her offer at the sight of my disgust. The ship, if you can call it that, is on its last days and I can't help but notice the wing is being held together with what looks like chewing gum and a paper clip.

I'm familiar with the craft; it was one of the first handed down to me from my father for my fleet. I had retired that one since then. It was a tough ol' broad. The ship's body looks like an ancient dagger pulled out of Marzian's archeological digs. The handle roughly curves allowing for a deadly grip and the dagger itself has a butcher knife side and a jagged side. It gave the user plenty of options for their best killing method. At least it would cut through any issues like its ancient remnants.

There are three sails that surround the back making up the wings. They mimic those of an old sailing boat except there is one above, one below, and one countering the other two on the side. The third is the most crucial. Without it, the ship would spin like a properly thrown football just never reaching its destination.

I couldn't help but smile at the alterations to the engine. Violet's design had reached the vastness of the universe. Not only did it conserve more fuel and energy, but it provided a cleaner efficiency that only she could have ever dreamed up. At least she would be with me on this trip. Her engine wouldn't let us down.

I pulled my luggage towards the thing. It took most of my time here to get it. The reception here was more than a little hostile. That left me no time to look for Grog or Phoenix. I felt unsettled without them on my wrist. Perhaps they had decided to get a little more alone time before I gave them their duties for the day. I severely doubted it.

"Tacus," the captain shouted. She pulled an arm over the ramp into the hull slightly. "Start 'er up."

I pasted my indifferent icy expression as I closed into range of her figure. She had an impressive one. I couldn't help but notice her wide hips and plump little ass that was now face level. An elbow to my side made me jump slightly before a glum looking thing passed by with a snarl. He shook his head and gestured to the captain before moving onward. I think I heard him say something about castrating me and I shivered at the idea.

"Glad you made it," Captain Claudia Effision coldly grumbled as the engine came to life. Something sputtered and the ship's metal started shaking. She sighed pulling at the spikes of her hair. "We are a little delayed. My mechanic decided to visit..... well.... A... Gentleman's Club so to speak before taking off and it appears his checks weren't done. As soon as he graces us with his presence, we will be off."

"Sounds like the fueler left the Transition Rod in for the hose," I shrug before sliding my things onto the ramp and examining just inside the ship. "Had it happen a lot with me when I was a kid."

"Right," she blushed slightly and it caught me by surprise. She didn't seem the type to embarrass easily. My expression must have given me away because her face snarled into an angry thing and her expression shot lasers through me. The idea again of castration snuck into my head. I shook it off and started inward as she screamed at the fueler again who was hustling to get it out. At least she gets a discount now on her fuel. That should make her happy.

"Thanks for the tip," she stated as I heard her boots clink up the ramp behind me. "I would have figured it out eventually, though."

"Glad I saved you some time," I replied with a smirk. She frowned as she gestured me forward.

"I ask my passengers to please stick to their rooms unless asked to approach the rig. It is a dangerous ship and we charge every which way. I don't want you in our way. I'll have Flin give you the tour once we take off," she took the steps up to her "rig" by threes and with my luggage I found it difficult to follow.