Generation-7
954 Words
CARL WAS IN THE MIDDLE of destroying the evil mastermind behind the invasion of Planet Zytron when someone rang his door chime.
“Better hide, mate,” he said to a pale brown, furry creature that was clinging to an air vent with his feet and wing hooks. The animal looked like something between a bat and a sugar glider, and it had been Carl’s friend since childhood. Ship’s pets were strictly prohibited on any Polestar vessel, but Carl had always thought little Flux would never cause any harm, so it was no big deal if he smuggled him aboard.
“Righto,” the creature replied, and flew across the room to an open cupboard. He went inside and a wing hook appeared, gripped the door edge, and pulled it nearly closed.
Carl had gone to bed disappointed and hungry after PashaorSasha had failed to show for their date at the shuttle bay. Video games were poor compensation for female company, but he’d concluded that if something seemed too good to be true, it probably was, though he couldn’t understand why the woman would go to the trouble of inviting him on a date only to stand him up. Some people were weird.
He frowned and checked the time. Who could it be at this hour? Had PashaorSasha had second thoughts? Or maybe she’d been delayed and come over to apologize for the no show? A small flame of hope flickered. He leapt up and put on his shirt.
He stepped into his pants and, pulling them up, he hopped to the door. As he opened it, his heart sped up. It was the geo-phys scientist. “Hi, great to see you. What happened...?” His face fell. Master Loba was a short distance away in the corridor. “Sir,” he said, buttoning up his shirt, but the man didn’t reply. He looked out of it.
“You have to take us planetside,” said PashaorSasha
“What?” Carl’s fingers hesitated. “You want me to fly you down there right now?”
“Yes. Immediately. The master must go to the planet, to the site we were at today. There’s something I have to show him.”
“But that’s, that’s...” Carl scratched his head. Was it even daylight at that site right now? He didn’t know off the top of his head. He looked at the master again. Loba was leaning against the corridor wall, his white curls mussed up, and his eyes didn’t seem to be focusing too well. Carl had heard the rumors.
He pushed his shirt into his pants slowly, buying time to think. It was all completely against protocol. Teams went down to the planet, not just two people, and it had to be for a legitimate reason. No tourist trips. Polestar didn’t fund deep space vacations. If geo-phys had found something, there was a process to follow. But this was Loba’s order, and the man was known for his vindictiveness. If Carl disobeyed without good reason, there would be serious consequences.
Stepping into the corridor, he closed his door before going over to Loba. “Sir, is this right? You want me to take you planetside?”
The master seemed to take a moment to realize that the pilot was there. He pushed himself off the wall and wavered as he stood upright. “Take us...me and her...” He pointed at PashaorSasha. “Now. Special assignment.”
Carl’s frown melted away as everything became clear to him. PashaorSasha had stood him up because she’d had a better offer. The master of a starship, no less. And now she wanted him to take her and her new boyfriend on a drugged-out trip to an alien planet. Great.
“Right. I get it. Fine, just fine.” What could he do but agree? He didn’t want to kiss his career goodbye. If he refused, it would mean no flying starships through deep space. No sneck uniform. No female crew members to impress.
“Come on then,” he called over his shoulder as he strode away toward the shuttle deck. He knew he shouldn’t talk to the master like that, but the fool was too off his face to notice, probably.
PashaorSasha and the master didn’t act like a couple who were hot for each other, Carl noticed as the two came with him and finally sat down in the shuttle’s passenger cabin, but maybe that was their kink. Maybe they were role-playing. His heart sank lower at the thought that he could have been the one pretending to be on ‛official business’ with PashaorSasha.
Taking his pilot seat, he contacted the bridge. His request for clearance to fly was met with predictable confusion. Of course, the lust-sick master hadn’t informed them of his plans. Carl switched his mic to broadcast in the passenger cabin. “Sir, bridge requires your personal order. You’ll need to step into my cabin.”
A few moments later, after fumbling with the door, Loba appeared, looking a little more alert and focused. Taking the spare headset Carl handed him, he spoke into the mic. “This is Master Loba. I...er...I authorize this trip, for...er...scientific reasons.” He blinked and looked at Carl as if he were recognizing him for the first time.
After a small delay, the ‛clear’ signal flashed on Carl’s controls as he heard the spoken confirmation. Loba’s verbal order must have passed the security check. Myth clearly didn’t impact the voice much.
The master’s hand was resting on the back of Carl’s flight seat. The man hesitated, as if he were about to speak, but he retreated to the passenger cabin.
With more force than necessary, Carl flipped the take-off switches and input the previous day’s coordinates into the flight plan. Would it be night or day at the site by the time they touched down? He didn’t have any idea. Would it matter for what PashaorSasha and the master had planned?
Carl thrust the clips of his harness home.
***
- Writer
