Archive - PROLOGUE "MAAAAIIL CAAAAALL!" The recruits of the Sky Army looked up as their Commander hopped up onto the stage on the left side of the mess hall, it's curtain closed behind him, and started to read off names. "We got Lorenz, Therbs, Definy, Dreds, Void..." He tossed each letter he found onto the floor in front of him as he read the recipient. "Yuri, Westley, Sothern, Adamson (nice name), Eberhart, Kauza, Murphy, Jackson, and a hell of a lot more so have fun." He tossed the rest of the letters casually onto the floor and hopped down to meet Ty and Jason by their usual table.
But before he could make it there, he was stopped.
"Um... Commander?" He stopped and raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses, a small smirk on his lips.
Thalia looked up at him from where she was crouched on the ground near a bunch of other recruits looking to see if they got a letter. "There's one for you here."
Sky stopped, his smil
STC: Gentlemen Prefer Orions: Chapter 3
April 6, 2269
Sajeen took Cera’s advice to heart and went about settling into her new quarters and her new life aboard Calypso. She unpacked all her clothes and personal belongings, arranging them in the closet and drawers and storage bins in the same way she’d had them in the quarters she’d shared with Alicia. Well, as close as she was able to, at any rate. It helped her feel at home in new surroundings.
From the ship’s stores she took toiletries and other essentials for daily life. She also browsed through T’Prin’s belongings that were stored in one of the ship’s cargo modules; but found nothing that really suited her personality. These were, after all, things that had belonged to a Vulcan; they just weren’t her. She and Garadun returned to Andoria to do some shopping, and she acquired things like furniture, bed linen, towels, and pillows of her own choosing and style. Among these was a bedspread ma
SW: Hades Wing Chp. 1Present, interrogation room aboard the Mon Cal cruiser Home One, Bilbringi Shipyards
The glow lamp flared on in front of me, blinding me for a moment. As my eyes adjusted I saw my interrogator had taken their seat across from me, the light prevented me from being able to tell whether it was a man or a woman, or some other gender entirely. I looked down at my cuffed hands resting in my lap; leaning forwards I put them on the table and smiled.
“So when does the torture start?”
The figure’s posture shifted uncomfortably, nervous I suppose, guess I wasn’t important enough to warrant a veteran. The silence, and the light, dragged on for several minutes as my interrogator looked over a datapad.
Then they finally broke the silence. “We don’t torture our prisoners, we aren’t your Empire.”
So it was a woman well maybe this wouldn’t be all that bad provided she was attractive. “Well then, I suppose I have nothing to fear and I doubt we
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