by A Good RPer Long Forgotten
Christmas Eve 7:00 AM
Deck 4, section 4A
Senior Officers' Quarters
Personal quarters
"The stars shine brightly on Christmas Eve, as if they
too know of the day's festivities. Here in the central square,
children are laughing, carolers are singing, and the smell of
goose fills the air. It's the time of year when one looks back
towards Earth and wonders, when will we be exiles no more? Merry
Christmas, Fury residents."
Paladin shut off the screen as he groggily arose. "Romantic
shit and false hope, ugh," he muttered as he climbed into
the shower. He let the steaming water run over his back as he
stretched the knotted muscles. He reminded himself that he did
not recuperate as fast as he had in his younger years. He climbed
out and wiped off the mirror and gazed at the pale figure that
stared back at him, his eyes bloodshot and his face drawn.
Turning from the mirror, Paladin tried to clear his head. The
other officers all seemed to be busy moping over their losses. He
felt somewhat sympathetic, but none of the casualties had been
friends of his. Not that he had had many friends recently.
After dressing quickly, he exited his room with a vague notion of
direction. Thinking always seemed to lead him to unpleasant
conclusions, and those were some of the last things he needed to
enjoy Christmas.
Idly, he entered the elevator and called out, "Bridge,"
without thinking. The elevator, unusually co-operative,
immediately took him there. As he stepped out, Drake turned to
look at him.
"Yes, Paladin?"
The sudden realization came to Paladin that he was not on duty
that day. He stuttered the first response that came to mind.
"I came to see if the ship was short-handed."
Drake's expression remained constant. "You're not needed
here."
"Right."
Paladin stepped back onto the elevator and lit a cigar. "Main
city level." Though the doors closed, the elevator refused
to move. "Uh, please?"
"Not until you put that ghastly thing out. I can't take the
smell."
"Damn piece of . . . you know that you don't have any
olfactory sensors."
"Old factory?"
"You don't have a sense of smell."
"Oh, right. Off we go, then," came the response as the
elevator moved down. Paladin sighed.
Eve of Christmas 9:21 AM
Deck 21, section 6C
Mid-level Urban area
Paladin sat in a small restaurant that had
popped up in the Fury's urban belly. He stirred his fifth cup of
coffee while staring at nothing in particular. A pang of regret
shot through him. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and
flipped it open to a picture of his parents. They had died before
the attack, and he rarely thought of them, but still . . . there
was something there. He and his father had not parted on the best
of terms, but parents are parents. He, for just a moment, wished
he had spent at least one Christmas with them since he left home
over two decades before.
But the regret passed through his maturity to realize that there
will always be some opportunities missed. Or perhaps it was just
plain giving up on the past, but he didn't care much anymore.
"You pull that out to pay, hon?"
Paladin glanced up at the waitress, slightly startled. "Yea,
I guess now's a good time." He paid his gil and quickly
gulped down the mug.
He walked out the door and past two arguing teenagers. One
shouted at the other something along the lines of "Macross
my ass!" while the other argued back. It crossed Paladin's
mind to stop them, but he shrugged it off like so much rain. He
wandered into the shopping district, and it occurred to him that
the other officers might have an exchange of gifts. Thoughts of
what gifts would suit who were wandering through his head when he
spotted what looked like a familiar face on a raised platform
above one of the shops.
The attempt to kick in his thrusters failed as he was not born
with them and the suit was in his quarters. He grunted in
frustration and began to move in the direction of the store when
he bumped into something scaly. Caught by surprise, he whirled on
the apparent threat. It was merely Xrileshr. He still was
uncomfortable with having one of them, the enemy, on the Fury.
"Oh, Tsivrixsh." Paladin looked back over his shoulder
at the platform. If it had been her, she would be long gone by
that time. He looked up at the tall alien. "Pull patrol duty?"
"That's correct, human. I found there wasn't really a point
not to take duty, for me, at least."
Paladin wondered at the parallel of speech. He merely called the
alien "Tsivrixsh" to keep things from getting personal.
While most were honorable creatures, good to their word, they
still weren't the most trustworthy of races. Years of fighting
the Tsivs didn't help his outlook on their race either, but he
thought he was being extremely friendly, considering the state of
things . . .
"Thank God somebody seems to be somewhat responsible."
"Discipline is an important that is stressed in Tsivrixsh
service... It is also an essential value to an honorable warrior,
so I take care to be responsible in my actions. Unfortunately, my
values are not entirely shared by some of the other officers here.
From what I've seen, at least," replied Xrileshr.
"They're actually getting better. But then again, there's no
way they could have gotten worse . . ."
"You were a member of the famed older Hunters, were you not?
What was their stance on discipline?"
Paladin thought for a moment. There was no sense in bad mouthing
the dead, but he shouldn't give the impression that they were a
great team. They were just a bunch of great individuals; there
was no "team." "Let's just say that discipline and
hunters are two words that don't mesh well."
"All the more impressive they succeeded against the
mavericks and Tsivrixsh forces attacking, isn't it then? Of
course, Xshiaver probably just wanted to get rid of Tsavra, the
Elder as he called himself. Probably explaining part of that
victory... It was a slightly unfortunate one though, I think. It
gave your planet a bit of overconfidence."
Paladin decided not to argue with the Tsivrixsh, but he was
fairly certain that there was some skill involved in the defeat
of the Elder. "Uh, Zehshaver? And the Earth has always, for
the most part, been overconfident."
"Most species are. A difficult flaw to overcome... Xshiaver
is the self-proclaimed emperor of the Tsivrixsh Empire. He took
over power from the High Council, and, I believe as does our
resistance against him, that he is trying to take complete power,
by getting rid of all in the High Council, save his lackeys like
Shretrav."
"My god, this is turning into an educational course on the
Tsivs . . . I'd better get out of here," thought Paladin. He
replied, "Oh. Ok, thanks for the lesson. I've got . . .
shopping, yes Christmas shopping to do."
"Ah, yes. Gift giving is a human tradition on this Christmas...
Perhaps I should attempt to give some gifts. Unfortunately, I'm
not confident in my ability to choose appropriate gifts for human
tastes..."
"Just got with fruitcakes. Anyway, I have to go."
"Hmm, I see. I will have to look into these fruitcakes.
Farewell for now."
Paladin shook his head as he walked away. The guy seemed to be
all right, but he was still a Tsiv. And worse, he was still loyal
to the Tsivs, just not their emperor.
He began to look for gifts.
Day before Christmas, 11:43 AM
Deck 23, section 2A
Upper-level Urban Area
Laden with his purchases, Paladin began to make his way toward
his quarters. He had arrived at one of the larger intersections
when he spotted her again. Shoving his way through the crowd,
Paladin made his way toward the opposite corner of the square.
He pushed forward. One of his bags caught on something. He pulled
it free. A large family began pushing him back. He made his way
forward. A transport blocked his path. He moved around it. The
crowd swelled into his path. He began to violently shove his way
forward. He arrived at the other side.
The head of red had moved a few yards and was facing away from
him and was facing into a store window. He walked forward and
grabbed her shoulder. A completely unfamiliar face turned to him.
"Yes?"
"Oh. I'm sorry, I thought you were somebody else."
"Lose somebody? Sorry hun, but I'm sure you'll find them
soon."
Paladin muttered his thanks and moved away. He was certain he had
seen her face, but she had disappeared again. Sighting her was
usually a biweekly occurrence, and it seemed to come only when
she wanted him to see her. So what was going on? Was she
following him, or was she just busier due to the season? His
thoughts were interrupted as he roughly ran into another familiar
figure. Or rather, ran through another familiar figure.
Paladin looked at the wavering visage of Gravedigger in disgust
as he brushed droplets of Gravedigger goup off of his leather
trenchcoat. "Uh . . . Jell-O Man, er, Gravedigger,"
Paladin said as he tried to regain his composure. No words came
to mind, so he just blurted out the first thing that came into
mind. "I'm sorry about your loss."
"Man, do you ever watch where you're going? Look at me, I'm
a quivering mass . . ."
Not really thinking about his actions, Paladin reached out and
poked Grave's chest. The jiggling was repulsive, yet hypnotic,
almost like the ocean.
Gravedigger giggled. "Hee hee . . . 'ey, waitaminute, that
ain't funny!"
"Shouldn't you be more broken up about the death of your
daughter, no . . . sorry, girl, wait . . ." He came to the
realization that nobody close to Gravedigger had died, even with
all of the recent demises. "uh, cat?"
" . . . uh, hate to break it to you, Binky, but I don't have
any of those."
Paladin gripped the bridge of his nose at the development of
another headache. "Sorry. It seems recently everybody has
had somebody die. Nobody seems able to just deal with death
anymore." He reached out and poked 'digger again. "Man,
I need one of those on my desk. The waves are soothing."
Gravedigger glared at Paladin. "Stop that."
"Anyway, what's going on? You pull duty?"
"Sorta. I've got a shit load of cases to take care of before
I'm supposed to help Drake meet a new arrival tomorrow sometime.
I'll tell you, I hate the holidays, way too many people go stupid."
"You've got no hard feelings for Drake?"
"Yeah, but he's paying me for it. He may be a hardass, but
as long as he's paying me, I'll put up with him.
"Mm. Well, that's great. Look, I'll see you around."
"Yeah, watching my ass, no doubt."
Gravedigger was a nice enough guy, except Wien seemed to have
influenced him a lot. Gratuitous insults seemed to be his forte.
Paladin shrugged and walked off. Gravedigger followed suit.
A few streets later, he almost bumped into yet another officer,
but decided that a conversation with Death Star was not something
he really wanted at the moment. Ducking down a side alley,
Paladin made a detour.
He wasn't quite sure why, but after he had received forgiveness,
resentment had popped up. Why hadn't Death Star been on earth to
protect it? Why did he leave just because of Spade? Why didn't he
fight? Paladin knew the answers, yet he still resented the
actions taken by his former CO. Hell, he resented a lot of the
team. But showing strong emotions was something trained out of
him. At least that was something CorSec had done right.
Look, it's the fricken day before the
celebration of the birth of Christ, ok? 3:47PM
Deck 6, maintenance labs
Paladin's work area
Paladin finished up the repairs he'd been meaning to do on his
suit. He had added the compartment to store street clothing and
to call them up for disguise during missions. Handy addition.
He walked over to the airlock he had chosen the area for. It gave
him a quick way in and out of the ship. Something to relieve his
stress. He used it.
Quickly suiting up, he stepped out. The Fury wasn't in hyperspace,
so he knew it would be safe to sit on the Fury's hull and stare
at the unobstructed light show of space. The shields would
protect him from space debris, as they always did. He flew out.
Paladin did not take the usual route. Usually he walked along the
surface and stopped above the bridge. For some reason, he just
felt like floating. He brought his relative thrust to the Fury to
zero. Floating out away from it, yet still within the shields,
Paladin gave his hip thrusters opposite thrusts. He began to spin
slowly. Being back in Zero-G calmed his nerves.
After meditating for a few minutes and clearing his thoughts, he
jetted to the hull. There he sat, and familiarized himself with
the patterns of the stars and how they were moving.
He sat there for about an hour before a voice came over his comm.
It was on one of the lower frequencies. The kind that don't
travel over distance or through obstructions. The kind used by
the toy walkie talkies that are used as kids' toys. It said,
"Hey."
Paladin recognized the voice and knew somebody was standing
behind him. He had felt the vibrations of magnetic boots gripping
the hull and walking in his direction. He did not turn around.
"You've been following me."
"At least you're as welcoming as ever." The bright
white space suit clumped next to Paladin and positioned itself as
to sit on the hull next to him.
"Hey, you shot me, remember?"
"That's only because you wouldn't leave. Don't be such a cry-baby."
"But you shot me!"
"Look, I'm sorry, but I wasn't ready to give up my lifestyle."
"You don't say you're sorry when you shoot somebody.
Generally it's an unforgivable offense."
"For God's sake, if I'd known you were going to be like this,
I wouldn't have come out here."
"All right, all right, I'm sorry. Does that mean you are
ready to stop now?"
"I didn't say that. It's just that . . . Well, you don't
have any family on board, and you don't give the impression of
being too close to your fellow soldiers . . . I guess this is an
invitation to spend Christmas with me."
Paladin sat in silence. He wasn't sure he could handle her again.
She had quite literally hurt him. Mind and body, she was poison.
"Gordon?"
Hell, it didn't matter, he was still in love with her, and he
doubted another opportunity like this would come up. When she got
hurt, she disappeared.
"Gordon?" she repeated, a little more urgently.
"Yeah. I mean, of course. Would I turn down a beautiful
woman?" He could hear her sigh with relief over the comm,
but he didn't let on. "Just don't shoot me again."
Lauren chuckled softly, knowing she was forgiven. She put her arm
around him, and they stared out together.
Same magical day, 8:36
Deck 32, section 7B
Lower-level Urban area
Gigi's Sushi Bar
After hours of talking and working out motivations, emotions,
and all the other boring complicated parts of relationships, they
had eaten at one of the lower levels. Paladin had never felt
better, and he was pretty sure that the feeling was mutual.
It was one of the grungier places that was not well known, but
the food was some of the best. There was a comfortable air to the
restaurant, and a feeling of anonymity. There was a quiet moment
of easy intimacy. Paladin was dancing on cloud nine; he was sure
everything would be grand and that nothing could ever be bad
again. Somewhere in the back of his mind, doubts screamed at him,
but he ignored them. Realty could take a back seat to utopia, for
a while.
"Look, I think the other officers are planning a party or
something later tonight, and I doubt it's the type of thing you'd
really want to attend. Officials, jerks, and combinations of the
two."
"Heh, I thought you might need to attend to some duties.
Here." She handed him a folded piece of paper. "It's a
frequency outside of the monitored range, at least inside the
ship. Contact me, we'll meet up in the big square on deck 21,"
replied Lauren.
Paladin put down the gil for the meal, and they walked out.
Wordlessly, she gave him a long, lingering kiss, and then they
walked in opposite directions. He brought a cigar to his mouth
and bit off the ends. He lit it. It was great to be alive.