perhaps I have been remiss in starting our relationship off on the wrong foot. May I suggest we start over fresh tomorrow after I have assembled my command?” Without waiting for Britaine’s response, Misha spun on her heel and was out the hatch. She held her temper, but at a cost. Internally she was boiling. Something or someone was going to get hurt if she didn’t work out soon to blow off some excess energy. Still, she hadn’t expected to hurt someone as quickly as she did. She slammed full force into a man coming in the opposite direction down the hallway. He was sent sprawling out before her on the deck with his civilian clothes in disarray.
“ Ow,” the man said quietly as he looked up at her. “Slow it down a bit, young lady. I am just a tad too delicate for this kind of meeting, at least without the proper introductions."
Misha would have walked on with only the briefest of apologies if the man had not been smiling. Instead, she did something she always hated herself for doing. She blushed. When she blushed, it was a bright red from the tips of her ears to the nape of her neck or even further depending on the situation. Blushing was an unfortunate side effect of a heavy-worlder's ability to pump copious amounts of oxygen-rich blood into their dense musculature. Combined with Misha's pale skin, a left-over from her Scottish heritage, she almost glowed in the dark.
She offered the man a hand and pull ed him to his feet. He was a smallish man, almost a foot shorter than her, he was very slightly built, not skinny, but more of the wiry type. She was glad to note she hadn’t damaged him, seeing as she was twice his size.
The man said, “Sergeant Gan Forrester of the Allied Marshal Service. And you must be the vaunted Third Hamisha McPherson? I am pleased to meet you.”
She said, “Sergeant Forrester, please accept my apologies. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Well, it only seems fair that you put me on my keister. You tore through the APES like a whirlwind and from what I just overheard in Britaine’s office you stirred up a shit storm in there with the AMSF. You might as well try to do some damage to the Marshal Service, too. Make it a clean sweep for the day." The man smiled up at her. “Well, Third, I don’t seem to be damaged beyond repair. No harm, no foul.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Please, call me Gan. And you prefer to be called Misha if what I read in the news is correct. Well, Misha, perhaps we can get together before this little cruise is over. I would love to hear about Guinjundst, that is, what you can tell me about it. I understand the secrecy and all of that. Military history is sort of a hobby of mine.”
Misha said, “I don’t know how long the 1392nd will be aboard the Kiirkegaard, Gan.”
He smiled, “Longer than I will, I would guess. I am going on a little field investigation in the Gagarin System. It’s not so much an investigation as it is a little boondoggle for me. It is a like a paid vacation. It’s kind of a reward for me having the least errors in the productivity reports over the past year. That’s me, just a good little data pusher.”
Misha turned to go, but the man continued unabated. “Since you are heading on past the Gagarin System, we will have a few days before the flight takes off, plus it is three jumps to Gagarin, even for military spacecraft.”
Misha’s comm unit emitted a quiet bip and broadcast, “Third McPherson to the main hatch.”
Forrester sighed, “Well, I would love to stay and continue our chat, but it seems you are needed elsewhere and I have to go face Colonel Britaine now that you have stirred him up. Thanks for that, by the way.” He smiled, turned and headed into Britaine’s office before Misha could respond.
Misha was almost at the main hatch before it occurred to her that Sergeant Gan Forrester kn ew more about her destination than she knew. She wondered how the little man knew so much about her when she had
“ Ow,” the man said quietly as he looked up at her. “Slow it down a bit, young lady. I am just a tad too delicate for this kind of meeting, at least without the proper introductions."
Misha would have walked on with only the briefest of apologies if the man had not been smiling. Instead, she did something she always hated herself for doing. She blushed. When she blushed, it was a bright red from the tips of her ears to the nape of her neck or even further depending on the situation. Blushing was an unfortunate side effect of a heavy-worlder's ability to pump copious amounts of oxygen-rich blood into their dense musculature. Combined with Misha's pale skin, a left-over from her Scottish heritage, she almost glowed in the dark.
She offered the man a hand and pull ed him to his feet. He was a smallish man, almost a foot shorter than her, he was very slightly built, not skinny, but more of the wiry type. She was glad to note she hadn’t damaged him, seeing as she was twice his size.
The man said, “Sergeant Gan Forrester of the Allied Marshal Service. And you must be the vaunted Third Hamisha McPherson? I am pleased to meet you.”
She said, “Sergeant Forrester, please accept my apologies. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Well, it only seems fair that you put me on my keister. You tore through the APES like a whirlwind and from what I just overheard in Britaine’s office you stirred up a shit storm in there with the AMSF. You might as well try to do some damage to the Marshal Service, too. Make it a clean sweep for the day." The man smiled up at her. “Well, Third, I don’t seem to be damaged beyond repair. No harm, no foul.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Please, call me Gan. And you prefer to be called Misha if what I read in the news is correct. Well, Misha, perhaps we can get together before this little cruise is over. I would love to hear about Guinjundst, that is, what you can tell me about it. I understand the secrecy and all of that. Military history is sort of a hobby of mine.”
Misha said, “I don’t know how long the 1392nd will be aboard the Kiirkegaard, Gan.”
He smiled, “Longer than I will, I would guess. I am going on a little field investigation in the Gagarin System. It’s not so much an investigation as it is a little boondoggle for me. It is a like a paid vacation. It’s kind of a reward for me having the least errors in the productivity reports over the past year. That’s me, just a good little data pusher.”
Misha turned to go, but the man continued unabated. “Since you are heading on past the Gagarin System, we will have a few days before the flight takes off, plus it is three jumps to Gagarin, even for military spacecraft.”
Misha’s comm unit emitted a quiet bip and broadcast, “Third McPherson to the main hatch.”
Forrester sighed, “Well, I would love to stay and continue our chat, but it seems you are needed elsewhere and I have to go face Colonel Britaine now that you have stirred him up. Thanks for that, by the way.” He smiled, turned and headed into Britaine’s office before Misha could respond.
Misha was almost at the main hatch before it occurred to her that Sergeant Gan Forrester kn ew more about her destination than she knew. She wondered how the little man knew so much about her when she had
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