most of the crew were either neutral or now grudgingly favoring
him over the accusations. Of course saving the day twice in a week probably
helped some. “Do I really have to do this?” he muttered under his breath.
“It's
about time you had dinner with the captain. It's only fair after all,” Sprite
replied. He grimaced. Sprite was most likely acting in her capacity as chief of
protocol so he couldn't fault her being a little miffed at not getting an
earlier invitation. Better late than never. He was curious about the timing
though. Did yesterday's attack have something to do with it?
“Zip
it. Best behavior,” he ground out quietly between clenched teeth as the hatch
door opened. He didn't need her distracting him with choice comments and
critiques. He nodded to the steward and other officers standing around.
The
wardroom was formal, a gloss black table was the centerpiece. It was trimmed
with lightly stained wood. The edges of the table where rounded for comfort.
The
walls were green, hung with an occasional painting. One wall had a painting of
Destiny. He turned his head. Another had a picture of the officers.
Interesting.
The
chairs were simple, high back black false leather. Some were for Terran
bioforms, but there were a few saddle style for veraxins as well. The bulk of
the senior staff were Terrans. The pirates had killed most of the other
bio-forms over time. Some like the non Terrans right off. Others had been
worked to death.
Ferguson
had tried to create a crew with what remained and what volunteers he could pick
up from the other ships and from adventurous souls in Pyrax. Of course the most
adventurous had ended up in the Navy or marines.
Still
he'd done a bang up job creating a solid crew. They still had some rough spots
but they were settling into a professional crew. Bailey had something to do
with that of course.
The
captain sat in the seat at the center of the table. His seat was marked with
the crest of the ship embroidered on the back of it. The exec apparently sat
next to him normally. She was absent, manning the bridge. An LCD screen was
supposed to be on a wall facing the captain but it had not been in stores.
Pity. The bare mounting brackets ruined some of the look of the room. From the
look of things they still had a ways to go before Destiny was completely ship
shape.
“Am
I late?” Bailey asked coming in behind him. Irons turned as he entered smiling
to the chief in surprise.
“What
is he doing here?” the purser asked as the other officers turned to the chief
engineer and Admiral in surprise.
Irons
didn't bother to scowl at the accountant. The man was a weasel, he could see it
in his face and manner. At least his hostility to the Admiral was out for all
to see, not veiled like some of the others in the room.
“I'm
the chief engineer remember?” Bailey asked clearly obstructing the purser's
thrust. “Wanna make something of it?” he asked, clenching a fist and showing
sharp canines.
“Ah,
um, no I meant...” Irons snorted at the sudden discomforting look the others
shared. Bryan the medic looked away. Bailey was a no nonsense character. It
felt good having him at his back.
“I
know what you meant. You want my advice, shut your yap before someone puts a
fist in it,” the simian growled. The hyper navigator nodded eyes wide.
Clarke
was a gangly, clean cut kid, all knees and elbows of youth. He seemed ungainly
but he moved with some fluid grace. Irons could see the implants on his HUD.
Yes, at least that part of the plan had gone through, the lead navigator had
second level civilian implants.
According
to Sprite's report the lead navigator had a confidence problem as he was still
feeling out the ship's systems. From his look and manner he needed seasoning.
Exposure to Bailey would either have him stiffening up or ducking for cover.
Irons wasn't sure which way the lad would go, right now his money was right at
the border, fifty fifty odds.
Okay,
so maybe having the
him over the accusations. Of course saving the day twice in a week probably
helped some. “Do I really have to do this?” he muttered under his breath.
“It's
about time you had dinner with the captain. It's only fair after all,” Sprite
replied. He grimaced. Sprite was most likely acting in her capacity as chief of
protocol so he couldn't fault her being a little miffed at not getting an
earlier invitation. Better late than never. He was curious about the timing
though. Did yesterday's attack have something to do with it?
“Zip
it. Best behavior,” he ground out quietly between clenched teeth as the hatch
door opened. He didn't need her distracting him with choice comments and
critiques. He nodded to the steward and other officers standing around.
The
wardroom was formal, a gloss black table was the centerpiece. It was trimmed
with lightly stained wood. The edges of the table where rounded for comfort.
The
walls were green, hung with an occasional painting. One wall had a painting of
Destiny. He turned his head. Another had a picture of the officers.
Interesting.
The
chairs were simple, high back black false leather. Some were for Terran
bioforms, but there were a few saddle style for veraxins as well. The bulk of
the senior staff were Terrans. The pirates had killed most of the other
bio-forms over time. Some like the non Terrans right off. Others had been
worked to death.
Ferguson
had tried to create a crew with what remained and what volunteers he could pick
up from the other ships and from adventurous souls in Pyrax. Of course the most
adventurous had ended up in the Navy or marines.
Still
he'd done a bang up job creating a solid crew. They still had some rough spots
but they were settling into a professional crew. Bailey had something to do
with that of course.
The
captain sat in the seat at the center of the table. His seat was marked with
the crest of the ship embroidered on the back of it. The exec apparently sat
next to him normally. She was absent, manning the bridge. An LCD screen was
supposed to be on a wall facing the captain but it had not been in stores.
Pity. The bare mounting brackets ruined some of the look of the room. From the
look of things they still had a ways to go before Destiny was completely ship
shape.
“Am
I late?” Bailey asked coming in behind him. Irons turned as he entered smiling
to the chief in surprise.
“What
is he doing here?” the purser asked as the other officers turned to the chief
engineer and Admiral in surprise.
Irons
didn't bother to scowl at the accountant. The man was a weasel, he could see it
in his face and manner. At least his hostility to the Admiral was out for all
to see, not veiled like some of the others in the room.
“I'm
the chief engineer remember?” Bailey asked clearly obstructing the purser's
thrust. “Wanna make something of it?” he asked, clenching a fist and showing
sharp canines.
“Ah,
um, no I meant...” Irons snorted at the sudden discomforting look the others
shared. Bryan the medic looked away. Bailey was a no nonsense character. It
felt good having him at his back.
“I
know what you meant. You want my advice, shut your yap before someone puts a
fist in it,” the simian growled. The hyper navigator nodded eyes wide.
Clarke
was a gangly, clean cut kid, all knees and elbows of youth. He seemed ungainly
but he moved with some fluid grace. Irons could see the implants on his HUD.
Yes, at least that part of the plan had gone through, the lead navigator had
second level civilian implants.
According
to Sprite's report the lead navigator had a confidence problem as he was still
feeling out the ship's systems. From his look and manner he needed seasoning.
Exposure to Bailey would either have him stiffening up or ducking for cover.
Irons wasn't sure which way the lad would go, right now his money was right at
the border, fifty fifty odds.
Okay,
so maybe having the
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