This is a little something I whipped up on my way to work today. I’m polishing up my first novel for e-delivery. I will begin the second novel second draft after that. In the meantime, I thought I’d try to keep sharp and write a little something whenever I could.
First Officer’s log, 2109-02-16
Closing in on Jove now, and the crew is getting antsy. We’ve been on this bucket for weeks and I can sense it in the halls.
The Flying Wolves aren’t exactly excited sitting around and waiting for orders, but they’re professionals and they’ll do what their told. At least by me, or the Big Dog.
And that’s a problem. They don’t listen to LT CDR Cute Cheeks. She’s way over her head on this mission. As only one of three females on board, she gets a lot of unwanted attention. The wolves are starting to drool.
Hell, I’d make a move on her, but I’m her senior officer, and if word got back to the real world, the limp-dicks at Home Office would shit cows. So I gotta run interference and keep the wolves in line. They’ll listen to me, thank God, but aside from that and CPT B, they’re all hard for war.
We’re about four days from Jove, and the JKP is holding together better than expected. This is the ship’s final tour, and it’s going to go out with a bang. The traitors are still refusing Homeland observers to land on E-1 to discover whatever it is the traitors found. It’s come down to a show of force.
Even though the James K. Polk is an older ship, only recently retrofitted with the spinning centerdecks for gravity during downtime, it’s still a capital ship, and still light-years ahead of whatever the traitors can cobble together out of spare parts.
And we have the meanest marines in the universe ready to crack open E-1 and let our inspectors in.
LT CDR Castaneda has shacked up with Cpl Jones. Jones is one tough bitch, and she knows it. None of the wolves mess with her, she’s more macho then half of them are. She’s just “one of the guys” to them- for the most part.
I know she doesn’t like Castaneda- she’s doing it out of some sort of female solidarity. Castaneda feels more secure with her own live-in bodyguard. So if the LT CDR feels less twitchy, fine. And if the wolves think she’s Jones’ lover or something, maybe they’ll be less inclined to mess with her. Either way, it helps to defuse the situation.
But that won’t last.
We better get to fighting soon, or the wolves might turn on their own before Big Dog or myself can put the leash on.
The door buzzer was jarring like an alarm going off too early in the morning.
Commander Strathmore yelled at his door. “What?”
A muffled voice shouted back, “Sir, there’s a problem.”
Strathmore grumbled. “Cepheid, open door.”
A quiet mechanical voice made to sound like an English gentlemen spoke back. “Commander Strathmore’s cabin door open.” The door lock clicked and a small LED above the handle went from red to green.
A man let himself into Strathmore’s room. Private Al-Aziz saluted. “Sir, there’s a problem on the bridge. It’s Commander Castaneda.”
Strathmore swiped his jacket off the table. “Where’s Capitan Brodsky?”
“Engine room, sir. You’re closer, and…”
Strathmore zipped his jacked tight. “And you thought I could take care of this without the Capitan blowing a gasket?”
Al-Aziz swallowed. “Yes sir.”
Strathmore stood silent, staring at the young man. “Fine,” he said, “Let’s go.”