Incursion Vector

046

Author's Note: This chapter has been appearing, disappearing, then re-appearing since I posted it and I've no idea what's going on. Hopefully this sticks (and the formatting stays put, because that's disappeared a few times when I've tried re-posting as well). Apologies!

[▲] INS Robert A. Heinlein, Lalande Repair Yards

"Attention all hands this is the Captain. We're now hard docked with Lalande ring two. Flights Methuselah and Errant report to shuttle bay for personnel intake. All deck crews report to drop bays for mech and mauser onboarding. Load crews commence intake procedures for corvettes and transports. Artillery crews remain on standby. Non-essential personnel you are free to begin your downtime rotation on-station. Twelve hours until we take in the lines."

Nim rolled out of her bed onto the deck, landing on all fours and pawing through a stack of laundry she probably should have washed before they reached the repair yard. She wondered how pissed Redloader would get if she showed up in a tee and cargo pants, then figured she'd rather not push her luck and drug her last clean jumpsuit out of her seabag to begin stuffing her feet into it just as Damien popped open her door.

"You really should clean up more often, you know," he said, tossing her a computer containing his wager. "Small wonder you don't stink like your dirty skivvies."

Waiving towards herself Damien reached forward and pulled her to her feet. "And I guess your billet looks like you brought a maid with you from Terra Core, huh?"

"Hell no." He grinned at her. "But I remember to do my laundry. It's that slot in the hallway outside, the one on the way to the flight deck which you blitz right by every day? Clothes go in and they come back out ten hours later with your tag on them all clean and nicely compressed. No matter how many you shove in there. Washes 'em all, like magic."

Knowing that Damien wouldn't be giving up the press she shoveled her clothes into a ball the size of his shoulders, tied them up in two jumpsuits and a pair of slacks she forgot she had ever worn, then shoved them at the pilot. "Fine. Hold that."

Laughing he waited until she slid down the ladder, then dropped the bundle down to her. Just to make sure she actually did as she was told he dogged her steps to the laundry slot next to the galley at the end of the corridor and waited expectantly while she crammed the bundle down the chute. "See? Was that so hard?"

"Plasma exhaust, Damien," she said, saluting him with both middle fingers raised. "Suck it."

He shoved her to the side as they continued down the corridor neck-in-neck. "You'd be burrowing out of a mountain of dirty socks and jumpsuits every day if it wasn't for Leo and I, admit it."

"Yeah yeah. Get over yourselves." Squishing into a packed maglev car she managed to set their proper destination after stopping herself from keying in the flight deck by reflex. "I didn't know we were taking on eppies too. Redloader said we were just getting more pilots."

The car slid up to speed as Damien shrugged. "Neither did I. Last we heard Andronicus was keeping them."

"Hey, I wonder if one of them would let me pilot that armor. It's probably way cooler than the sims we did sixth year."

"Doubt it. My cousin was EPI mechanized for fifteen years and he'd literally shoot people before he let them in his suit. Granted it was just with a taser, but they got the point." He elbowed her in the shoulder. "Would you let one of them pilot your fighter?"

A chill raced down her spine at the filthy suggestion of anyone else putting their hands anywhere near her cockpit. "Fuck no! I'm not letting some knuckle-dragging ditch humper sit in my baby."