Lucky 13 (NaNoWriMo 2017)

Chapter 11: Message...

"Ok!" I say. "And done!" I take a step away from the ship. Lexi and I have just finished applying a massive decal, depicting a fiery 13, to the side of the ship.

"Looks beautiful," Connor shouts. "The decals nice too."

I glance back at him. "You could've helped with your telekinesis." I shout back.

He shakes his head and goes back to his book. Since Dionysus our relation has improved. He is my trusted second, my right hand, the Watson to my Sherlock. The last one may be a stretch, but I'm not a literary major.

We're currently parked in a grass field, know as slacker's field, on Detemer. The field, recently purchased by NASA, is the shore leave destination of choice. The place is mostly grass fields with small islands of concrete for landing ships. It conveniently brings a starship out of orbit without having to pay expensive berthing fees at a spaceports.

Mark is currently at the grill preparing our dinner. "I would have gone with a hot chick with little on," he yells at me. "Or nothing on." Lexi spins around and throws a multi tool at him. Mark just laughs as it falls short.

It's been six months, and war... sorry, armed impediment of the law... is still in full swing. The Navy has stepped up their actions since then. Patrolling all the major space lanes and keeping peace, but NASA's new shuttle program has finally caught up with them, equipping more starships than the rest of NASA and the Navy combined. But the politics don't really interest me.

We've gone on several missions since the disaster on Dionysus, but no ground missions. We've mostly been acting as a courier, running data to confidentially to send over the web. We've acted as deterrence in a few cases, done a couple of bombing runs, even a few science missions, but mostly things to further the war effort.

That's all winding down now. Can we win the war? Sure. Can we afford to? Easily. Do we actually care? An overwhelming vote of no. A fighting force of two hundred starships and ten thousand people, all grinding to a halt because a few bureaucrats hit the stop button.

I'm not complaining, I almost died in both the first and second conflict of the war, but I do feel disappointment in leaving the task unfinished.

Gear and John join us soon, returning from the nearby beach. The two of them wear sun glasses over their saucer sized eyes and not much else. John takes a look at the new nose art. His fur is drying weird from the salt. It's left chunky and frayed, obscuring his lilith frame.

"Make one joke about it and color won't be the only thing about your ears that don't match," warns Lexi.

"Looks good," he says.

"Chick!" Mark yells. "No clothes!" Lexi bangs her head against the side of the ship in frustration.

"Why do you suggest such a thing?" Gear asks.

"Oh," Mark sighs. "I know you Corrin's have a high standard of ethics, but you aren't on Corra anymore. Learn..."

"One," says John. "That is completely a stereotype, like assuming all Humans are catholic. And two, that wasn't the question she was asking."

"Yeah," agrees Gear. "What's the big deal about lack of clothing?"

Mark is taken aback by this. "Well... uh..." he stammers. "It's a lack of clothing."

\\Do the Corrin's have no taboo on nudity?// I ponder.

\\Depends,// Connor answers me. \\On their homeworld, Corra, they have a rather strict dress code, so don't go wearing shorts or a t-shirt. On their main colony world, Mezark, let's just say their overdressed.//

I look over their current choice of wardrobe. John is wearing Human swim trunks, Gear is wearing the bottom of a bikini. \\Thanks for that image,// I tell him.

\\I live to serve.//

Mark starts putting the burgers onto buns. "Dinner's ready!" he yell. He looks over the burgers carefully trying to identify the nearly identical patties. He passes two of them to the twins. "Ok, these two are Gresh'nik meat." He looks over the others carefully. "Ok, chicken." I grab that out of his hand. "And who's the elitist that's eating beef."

"That's me!" shouts Connor. He has yet to move from his seat. "You got a beef with that?"

I grab his plate and carry it over. "Do you have any kids, because that was a dad joke."

I get caught in his eyes. \\You know it was funny.// I quickly look away, breaking the trance.

"And finally, vegetarian. The tofu is mine. Lexi, which one did you have?"

She standing close to him now, close enough she can punch him if he says something stupid. "The mushroom," she says. "The potato is Ren's."

"Where is she?" Mark asks.

"Inside with another book," Lexi tells him. "I'm surprised she doesn't have a vitamin-d deficiency."

"We all live inside a tiny tin can for months," Mark reminds her. "What we should really be doing right now is stripping down and sunbathing." Oops, he forgot she's in strike distance. Ren emerges from the ship. "Nice of you to join us," Mark tells her, still rubbing his shoulder where Lexi's fist made contact.

"Daniel," she says. "You have a message waiting for you."

I make my way inside the ship and up to the bridge. I wrap my tail around in front of me and sit down in my chair. With a quick swipe of fingers I bring the message up on the view port.

"Hello," says Arianna. "I know that you are currently on shore leave."

"Damn right," I tell the recording. "But we have detected an anomaly just inside of the FTL event horizon. This may be the answer of how the event horizon works. If it is it will be the biggest accomplishment since warp."

"I don't like where this is going," I mumble.

"Sadly, the politicians don't feel this way. There is still enough support for the war among congress that they will drag it out till the very end and are not willing to part with any active ships. That where you come in, you aren't active duty."

"Pick someone else," I tell her.

"You are our only option," she tells me. "We are working with a limited window of opportunity and you are our fastest ship. We are willing to compensate you quite handsomely for any inconveniences this might present."

"I already have more money than I could use."

"In addition to overtime, you will be receiving an extra month vacation time." This catches my attention. "All details are included in the attached file."

The recording ends, leaving an image of Arianna staring at me.

"Hey Lal," I say. "Activate the external speakers."

"Sorry, I do not know what you mean by 'activate maternal squeakers,' would you like me to search the internet."