PULP! Episode #4 - Hungry for Facemeats
"Wooo! Wet tee-shirt contest!" Nebis cheered as Erika shucked off her suit, her pale underclothes soaked to the point of sticking as she left the wretched space-suit in a heap.
"I keep forgetting to get a new cooling unit." The human said, feeling she was only partially being heard, turning to hang the suit by its ankles to let it drip. "Stupid insulation."
"Your loss is my gain, baby. I can't be upset for you." Nebis murmured as she stared unabashedly at the way the fabric clung to her girlfriend's body, pinking the white cloth, transparent with sweat, the beginnings of goose bumps starting their sullen march down either arm and up either thigh.
"Should I be seeing this?" Donut asked from over Nebis's shoulder.
"You can look all you want," Nebis said, rasping around a mouthful of hooked, black spittle-slicked teeth, "but touch her, and you'll find that beneath this calm, attractive exterior is a Deep One who's hungry for facemeats."
"I understand you, Sir." Donut said, watching Nebis blink at the title.
Erika pulled on her robe, muttering something about getting cleaned up before disappearing down the hallway, Donut watching after her. Next to him, and fully a head and a half shorter, Nebis motioned that he should follow her toward crew quarters.
"Are you good at anything, Mr. Donut?" The Deep One asked, running a hand through her hair as she unlocked one of the spare berths, wincing at the state of disarray from many a rough take-off and landing. Donut stepped past and peered at the room as the lights flickered on, nodding approvingly, immediately working to smooth out the bunk.
"Just Donut. I'm sure I can make myself useful, Sir. Where do you need me to be?" Nebis leaned in the doorway, listening to the vessel around them as she considered the question. They had needed another shiphand for over a year and never agreed on anyone, and for one reason or another each had proven themselves unfit for duty.
"Well, we could use an actual mechanic, I can keep the engines running, but they deserve more attention than I can give. Erika is the ship's pilot and navigator, I work as the engineer, and Rosebud works in hydroponics, you'll meet him eventually."
"Rosebud?" Donut asked as he worked to unpack his duffle. Something skittered across his feet and disappeared under the bunk, and although he watched Nebis glance down at it, she said nothing.
"We don't know his real name. You can go with me when we feed him in a little bit."
"Is he a prisoner?" With this crew, he thought, it was hard to simply know.
"Oh no, nothing like that. It's complicated."
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Erika lay on the end of her bed, waiting for her skin to air dry. The steam from the shower booth was still wafting around the low-slung ceiling, and she watched it move in pale eddies, catching the light from the indicator panel nearby, reading a pleasant 'NOMINAL.'
The last job was a botch, but at least they'd been paid. She could afford to re-stock, to pay her crew, to pay the ship's lease this term, all those mundane details it was easy to forget about when they were drifting like wreckage in the Abyss. It felt silly to worry about finances when there was no certainty that they'd be able to make it back into real space, but it had to be considered one way or another.
"Like the fucking sword of Damocles." Erika said to no one, turning over onto her belly, her bare skin chilly beneath the ventilation, drying with no great hurry. Pulling the towel over her head, she buried her face in her folded arms and tried to doze. In all of this, she told herself, a moment of peace could be afforded - she could budget the time.
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PULP! - Adventures in Bad SciFi
Science FictionErika and the crew of the courier ship SoHo just want to earn their dime and enjoy the fruit of their labor, but they have to navigate an entire universe of bad cliches to do it.