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Authors: Phillip W. Simpson
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you go there yourself?”
“No thanks. You
think I’m stupid?”
“Thought never crossed
my mind. Now find that fucking Overdrive." He instructed his AI to cut the
link and settled back into his seat. If worse came to worse, he could always
step in directly himself. That would obviously reveal to Metatron and Michael
that Gabriella was more involved than she’d let on and raise subsequent
questions. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
◊
Even at over a 1km
away, the Dirty Little Minx was an impressive sight. Resembling a
watermelon in shape, and painted in what must be bright swirling colors (color
had limited impact in nospace), the Hedonist Starcruiser was over 5km long and
some 3km in diameter. Huge ion thruster nozzles thrust from the stern
surrounding the relatively innocuous Slipdrive exhaust.
Tarquin’s AI
reported that the Dirty Little Minx had taken over navigational control
of his ship, so with little to do, he grabbed a beer for himself and Logan from
his ships bar and returned to his seat in the bridge.
Logan accepted his
beer with a grateful grunt and the two sat back to watch the docking procedure.
At 300 meters out and heading directly for the midship docking bay area, both
men could make out the figure painted near the bow. A woman, nearly half a
kilometer tall, beckoned gaily with a smile and a wink. During the 10 minutes
or so it took to dock, the men watched as the ships holographic namesake
flirted with any ship passing near her hull. Ginormous curves competed with
other more lurid gestures to get the attention of the slightly startled
occupants of the Debacherous Weekend .
“Well," a
thoroughly impressed Logan remarked, “I’ve certainly had less enthusiastic
welcomes. I wonder if she’s on board in more manageable proportions?," he
finished thoughtfully.
Tarquin raised his
eyebrows. “If she’s on board, I’m sure you’ll find her Log.” He paused to have
a slurp on his beer. “You even been on one of these Hedonist ships before?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nah. I doubt
whether there’s much that these depraved weirdo’s have done that I haven’t."
“Think you’re
quite the man about town, don’t you?”
“I like to think
I’ve experienced much that life has to offer”
Logan raised his
beer in salute. “I’ll drink to that."
As the Debacherous
Weekend neared the docking bay, a field sprung out from the Hedonist ship
to surround them. The field slowly contracted as the ship was brought in
through the docking bay field and quietly settled between two larger ships.
“Still,"
Tarquin mused, “I’m bloody curious though."
“Be as curious as
you like, just as long as we get Felix’s arse safely off this ship."
“You really think
he’s in that much trouble?”
“Yeah, I do. Why
else would he just up and leave without a word to either of us? And, oh. Let me
think for a sec. If you’re work place and colleagues had been torched for no
obvious reasons, wouldn’t that make you a bit nervous?”
“No need for
sarcasm Log. A simple yes would have done the trick."
“Just as long as
you understand that we’re not here for a holiday."
“Likewise.” He
paused and added with gusto “Bring it on son," with exaggerated bravado.
He finished by flashing a large grin at his friend. “Alright then, let’s get to
it." With that, he stood up and made his way to the storage locker. Logan
followed him out.
“Think there’s a
dress code on the ship”? Logan enquired of his friend. He had instructed his
coverall to take the form of blue jeans, a red shirt and a black thigh length
leather jacket. Tarquin was dressed in black leather pants and a black t-shirt
with “show us your arse” written on it.
“Nah. They’re
Hedonist’s remember."
At an unspoken
command from Tarquin, the Debacherous Weekend opened its hatch and
extended a ramp down to the docking bay floor. The two men descended to find
themselves confronted by a plump, rosy faced man
“No thanks. You
think I’m stupid?”
“Thought never crossed
my mind. Now find that fucking Overdrive." He instructed his AI to cut the
link and settled back into his seat. If worse came to worse, he could always
step in directly himself. That would obviously reveal to Metatron and Michael
that Gabriella was more involved than she’d let on and raise subsequent
questions. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.
◊
Even at over a 1km
away, the Dirty Little Minx was an impressive sight. Resembling a
watermelon in shape, and painted in what must be bright swirling colors (color
had limited impact in nospace), the Hedonist Starcruiser was over 5km long and
some 3km in diameter. Huge ion thruster nozzles thrust from the stern
surrounding the relatively innocuous Slipdrive exhaust.
Tarquin’s AI
reported that the Dirty Little Minx had taken over navigational control
of his ship, so with little to do, he grabbed a beer for himself and Logan from
his ships bar and returned to his seat in the bridge.
Logan accepted his
beer with a grateful grunt and the two sat back to watch the docking procedure.
At 300 meters out and heading directly for the midship docking bay area, both
men could make out the figure painted near the bow. A woman, nearly half a
kilometer tall, beckoned gaily with a smile and a wink. During the 10 minutes
or so it took to dock, the men watched as the ships holographic namesake
flirted with any ship passing near her hull. Ginormous curves competed with
other more lurid gestures to get the attention of the slightly startled
occupants of the Debacherous Weekend .
“Well," a
thoroughly impressed Logan remarked, “I’ve certainly had less enthusiastic
welcomes. I wonder if she’s on board in more manageable proportions?," he
finished thoughtfully.
Tarquin raised his
eyebrows. “If she’s on board, I’m sure you’ll find her Log.” He paused to have
a slurp on his beer. “You even been on one of these Hedonist ships before?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nah. I doubt
whether there’s much that these depraved weirdo’s have done that I haven’t."
“Think you’re
quite the man about town, don’t you?”
“I like to think
I’ve experienced much that life has to offer”
Logan raised his
beer in salute. “I’ll drink to that."
As the Debacherous
Weekend neared the docking bay, a field sprung out from the Hedonist ship
to surround them. The field slowly contracted as the ship was brought in
through the docking bay field and quietly settled between two larger ships.
“Still,"
Tarquin mused, “I’m bloody curious though."
“Be as curious as
you like, just as long as we get Felix’s arse safely off this ship."
“You really think
he’s in that much trouble?”
“Yeah, I do. Why
else would he just up and leave without a word to either of us? And, oh. Let me
think for a sec. If you’re work place and colleagues had been torched for no
obvious reasons, wouldn’t that make you a bit nervous?”
“No need for
sarcasm Log. A simple yes would have done the trick."
“Just as long as
you understand that we’re not here for a holiday."
“Likewise.” He
paused and added with gusto “Bring it on son," with exaggerated bravado.
He finished by flashing a large grin at his friend. “Alright then, let’s get to
it." With that, he stood up and made his way to the storage locker. Logan
followed him out.
“Think there’s a
dress code on the ship”? Logan enquired of his friend. He had instructed his
coverall to take the form of blue jeans, a red shirt and a black thigh length
leather jacket. Tarquin was dressed in black leather pants and a black t-shirt
with “show us your arse” written on it.
“Nah. They’re
Hedonist’s remember."
At an unspoken
command from Tarquin, the Debacherous Weekend opened its hatch and
extended a ramp down to the docking bay floor. The two men descended to find
themselves confronted by a plump, rosy faced man
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