Divine Bastard: Chapter Two
Divine Bastard:
Chapter two:
It is now 0600. The subject was still sleeping peacefully in the assigned room. As the subject’s primary caregiver, it was up to Jed Sulliman to go down to the Mess Hall with a metal thermos that would be filled with Chef’s own blend of coffee and mixed in with French Vanilla creamer. The gamma shift were there eating their late night dinners, along the other early raisers that were munching on breakfast. Aitheria’s own doctor was sitting at a table, nibbling on toast and working on a crossword puzzle. A fuzzy bunny slipper tapping on the floor to an unknown beat while the navigator was sleeping with his head on the table, snuggling a teddy bear dressed in doctor’s scrubs.
He wanted to sit down with the bleached-blond and chat for a bit but the subject would be needing the coffee in order to his great and awesome self. So with a quick wave, the security officer said good morning to Dr. Cletus, who just grunted, never looking up from his PADD. Jed nodded his morning greeting to sleepy crew members on their way to start their shifts or their way to their rooms for bed. Then he was standing in front of the door to his own personal Mecca. He took a moment to rest his head against the Holy Door, rubbing his hand against its smooth surface and just soaking in the pure awesomeness that radiant from inside.
Then he looked to the right and to the left, seeing no-one coming or going from either direction. Jed tapped in the code to unlock the door, wincing at the loud swishing sound, holding his breath before he walked inside. The big burly man felt so small and humble as he slowly walked around the room. To outsiders, it was a room of pure chaos, ugly tropical shirts and band shirts and other items of clothing clattered the floor as the desk and shelves are filled to the brim with models of ships and weapons and PADDS. But to Jedidaiah F. Sulliman, it was like being in God’s bedroom. He stood quite still, watching the lump under the green with black tiger stripped bed cover. After a few minutes of careful breathing, the big man placed the metal thermos on a clear spot on the work desk, and pulled out a clean white rag and took a coffee mug with a brass knuckles ring for an handle and slowly made his way into the pilot’s bathroom to wash the mug out in the sink.
The security guard would do anything for his pilot. The man was just so perfect, only five feet and eight inches with the cutest blond curls framing around his cherub face and big blue eyes that twinkle with their own light, even more so when he was handling a weapon or cutting down the Captian with his snaky but cute remarks. The pale skin has to be soft to the touch , like puppy’s fur. Not like he had a chance to touch the pale smooth skin. Alas, Jed has to admire from far since the pilot doesn’t even notice him except when it came to weapon protocol and when he was asking for his mug to be refill with coffee. Dark brown eyes narrowed in at the sight of unfamiliar items in the bathroom, like the herbal scrubs and unmarked bottles of other herbal things that lined the more cleaner side of the bathroom sink.
His pilot, his only meaning in this dull and empty life of a solider, has a new roommate.
A Magi roommate. A hoo-doo wielding ‘Holy’ man that had gotten Captian Cook all up in a tizzy the day before. The Captian was a prime example of a hands on pervert. He was easy on the eyes, if one has to say it like that. All the female crew members and some males were in love with his cocky smile and glistering grey eyes. But the man was a total moron and was only a figure head. While Lieutenant Andrey Bismark was the true Captian of The Aitheria. The man behind the shiny Captain’s chair if you will. But the Magi has now sharing the bathroom with the great man, when Jed has sent in request after request to take the empty room on the other side of the bathroom door. Clearly, he has to find out who does room assignments and persuade the officer to do some switching around,
Then shrill and blood-curling screams wrecked through the image of the security officer ‘persuading’ the room assigning crew member. The floor shook, Jed had to grab onto the edge of the sink counter while the pilot was jumping out of bed, fumbling around for his assigned gun. When the floor seemed steady to walked on again, the big burly man forced the door open, ready for action as he stomped into the Magi’s quarters.
Now this was a scene of chaos. Everything was all over the place, turned over or cracked as the dark haired Magi was clutching the side of the bed, he was sitting on the floor when he fell off in his terror. Jade eyes opened wide in unfocused terror and he was breathing in quick and shallow inhales and exhales.
Jed slowly moved towards the man, hands out and eyes watchful as if he was approaching a wild scared animal. Andrey just burst in from behind pushing the bigger man to the side.
“What the fuck?! Seriously are we under attack or what!?” His blond curls bouncing around against his forehead as he looked around at the mess then looking at the Magi who had claimed down and was standing up, fixing his bed back together. He kept his head down.
Paradise didn’t answer back, feeling way too embarrassed about having the two men rushing in after the little outburst. He suffered from chronic nightmares. They were from that the he was a teenager before his old master found him bleeding and dying after a gang raid in the desert. Just images of Hellish terror of people imploding, screaming before turning into ash. He was stuck in the center, covered in blood unable to stop himself from killing the dream people.
“Nothing is wrong here.” He looked up, calm and sure and eyes staring that said ’nothing to see, move along.’ The magi was dressed in layers of clothing, unable to feel warm in this freezing ship in his normal sleeping attire. He even had on five pairs of socks after expressing that first shock of bare feet on cold metal floor. Paradise kept his scared cheek hidden by keeping his head turned to the right.
“Says the man dressed like my grandma on her way to the knitting convection.” The pilot remarked and answered the Comm that was beeping for attention, asking what just happen with ‘it was just our resident Magi having a nightmare, carry on.’
“Jed, do you mind? Clearly everything is fine and we don’t need the head of security looming around.” He addressed the bigger man of the three in the room, yawning as he rubbed his hands in his fair curls.
Jed was memorized at the action and at the sight of the shorter man just in a pair of cotton boxers with little cartoon figures printed all over it and old faded to grey shirt with a smoking gun printed on the front. He coughed and nodded when he finally came to.
“R-r-right s-sir.” with that he just saluted and bumped into the door when it didn’t just swish open for him. “Umm…the mug is in the sink and the coffee on the desk. See you on t-the bridge.” He bowed at the waist and walked out when the door did swished open, rubbing his sore nose.
Pilot and Magi just looked at each other with mirrored looks of raised eyebrows at the whole scene. Then they both just shrugged their shoulders. Andrey gave a long yawn, rubbing his stomach as he made his way back to his side and Paradise began putting his room back into order. Tossing the broken items in a wastebasket, he sighed then groaned as he covered his face in his hands. His bathroom door was then closed as the pilot started up the shower.
Perfect. Perfect. At least on Aeryon, a mini quake could be explained off easy. No-one would pay attention to it at all. But on a ship that was flying through space , how could he explained it off? ‘Must have been a problem with the engine? Ha ha?’ Right, that could work. Not.
The Magi sat on the bed, stretching his back and grumbled when he felt his nose and ears turning cold. Why couldn’t they just turn up the damn heat? Not everyone were from ice planets for fuck sake. He pulled the hood that was connected to the pale red sweatshirt that he wore over the sleep shirt over his head and buried his face inside.
After the tackle from the Captian the day before, Paradise spent the rest of the day in his new room. He didn’t dare move from his bed when he felt the ship taking off, leaving the Magow Union station. Then once he felt safe to move, he just set up his room with his meager belongings. The Magi don’t get paid often, if at all, for their missions. Mostly any money that came from Temple were used mostly to buy needed supplies while away on missions. Most Magi don’t even buy clothes for every day use. Only for what was needed when they have to go undercover.
Students don’t even get the right to wear anything but the official student dress of simple green tunic and white pants to go with the brown boots and dark brown robes. So most of his clothes were freshly brought right after he graduated to Master. By most, he meant all. He really had hated the green tunic and white pants but as good little Magi student, he sucked it up and then burnt the clothes after he could afford to. Still he didn’t have a lot of clothes, just enough to fill up half of the space in the closet. There was no need to explain how he bought the clothes but just know that Temple would be very, very unpleased with his method.
The required Magi dress uniform which was really a light cream colored tunic and dark brown pants hanged in the far back, ready to wear when the time came for it. Mostly when a Master Magi of Temple ranking came to visit. Hopefully that would be a rare thing. The whole damn thing was itchy and uncomfortable to wear longer then five minutes. Cheap material for an order of monk-like warriors.
That made sense in a weird way, he guessed.
Once the room was set up as he wanted it to be for the time being, his stomach was growling. So pulling on the pale red hooded sweatshirt to wear under his robe to stay warm and also to be prepared for another stripping attack, The young Magi walked on out into the hallway of the crew quarters. He was told that he would be sharing the bathroom with a senior officer, the main pilot of the Aitheria. But since it was just now time for beta shift when he finally came out of his room, he hasn’t met his roommate yet. Nationally he was….not nervous, but curious about the man.
It would suck so bad if the pilot was anything like that insufferable Captian Cook. It would be bad to have to kill two men instead of just that one.
The Magi walked down the hall, feeling sort of lost on his way to the Mess hall. He bit at his lip, trying to remember what floor it was on if it wasn’t on this one. Before long, his hungry self was like fuck it and made his rational self, just sensed out for it, instead of just asking a wondering crew member for directions. He will not accept help from people when he has to be seem all powerful and all knowing. Paradise leaned against the metal wall and closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly through his nostrils.
A hard impact of air hit him as his astral body left the physical body and zoomed out through the ship before it located the most wanted area. The astral body then was pulled back in a deep inhaled. “Oof.” the sudden feeling of a hard object hitting into him, cause Paradise to back into the wall with thud. He rubbed his head, glad not to feel a bump growing behind there. Then he made his way to a turbo lift and hit the required button to make it go up one floor. Glad that he was alone so he could hug onto the walls as he felt the lift just flying up then come to a sudden jerking stop.
He would never get use to space travel. Desert life was simple. One could go outside, feel the heat of the suns and the sand under your feet. Could feel life all around you, not cold and metal. He really hoped that this mission was a short one and his next one was back at home, where he was comfortable and safe.
The lift open and he quickly pulled his robe hood over his head to hide his face when he saw that people were waiting to use the lift. He pushed his way put and walked with his head held high, creating the air of importance. He was Magi, he was important.
The Mess Hall was buzzing with crew members of the Aitheria, mostly from alpha shift on their meal break. He groaned when he saw the Capitan sitting at a table, talking to members of his crew while surrounded by the female staff. The key thing to remember about the crew that worked on the flagship of the Union is that they were the most un-orthodox of the entire Union Star Fleet. The crew don’t even wear the required uniform of blue and gold. Some were just the pants with a shirt of their choice, others the jacket with their own clothes. A lot of the women went the too small and not enough approach to the dress code. So to see Cook’s head bobbling among the sea of cleavage, Paradise felt his blood boil a little and ignored the captian call of ‘Olander over here!’ and planted himself in line for a bowl of pasta with meat sauce and gilled cheese sandwich. He grabbed a cup and poured himself some fruit drink before walking away from the buffet line.
He headed for an empty table, not really up to making buddies on the first day at meal time. But then something made the Magi changing his mind. More like a snarky line from a snarky blond pilot.
“Ever been so drunk that you flipped a tank?” He stopped and raised an thin eyebrow before stopping at the side of the pilot, then sitting down in the empty chair.
“Ever been so mad that you start swinging a cactus?” They both shared a curled of the lip as both men looked at each other, right before Paradise took a bite of his sandwich.
“Yep right before I flipped the tank.” The blond man took a sip of his coffee. From that simple action a bond was made.
A few tables away, a solder with a buzzed hair cut almost squeezed his cup into a ball, watching his Idol , his golden God of the stars begin to talk to the Aitheria’s new Magi.
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The door from the pilot’s side open just as Paradise was drying his hair from the morning shower with his Union issued towel. He barely had enough time to cover his right cheek from his roommate , feeling self-conscious about his scars. Even more so when he just provided the rough wake up call for the man. Andrey didn’t seem to care when he rushed for his toothbrush and paste and started brushing his teeth at the sink. He kept his blue eyes down as he scrubbed his teeth with quick jerking movements.
“If you going to treat us all to a wake up call, by the way, I greatly am against that, I suggest just setting an alarm next to Comm speakers. I don’t really like jumble around in my own bed unless I got a somebody doing the jumbling with me.” He looked up in to mirror to meet the one jade and the one lighter hue eye. Smiling a little as he spit out the minty spittle in the sink.
Paradise, despite not wanting to, allowed his lips curled up in a grin and snorted to keep from chuckle himself. “I’ll try to keep from shaking this ship around in the morning.” He shook his head as the towel hanged over his head, walking back into his room. He quickly grabbed his hood sweatshirt to pull over the blue midriff long sleeve shirt, cursing once more about the fake air of the ship.
Then he dropped down on the bed , grabbing his boots and sliding them on and tucking his pants legs inside before tying them up. The boots were black and went up to his calf with purple and green shoe strings.
“You know, Pari, Dr. Cletus would be very unforgiving if you jumbled him out of bed. Though much doubt that he would feel the impact of hitting the floor as much he drinks at night.” The pilot walked in, pulling on his Union uniform jacket to wear open and over a blue and white tropical shirt. “I have great beliefs that the man’s blood is fifty percent rum.”
“So when the rum’s gone, we could always drink his blood?” Paradise looked up as he tried up his left boot.
Andrey shrugged. “Or just raid his room for the bottles he got hidden there.” He tugged his pilot hat on the top of the blonde curls. Then walked back into his room to grab a pair of 3D glasses to wear,
At first sight of these from the day before, Paradise had asked him why he wore these glasses. The answer was scary as much as it was funny. The pilot just answered that he had no depth perception. It made him feel so much better that he was on a ship in space with its pilot unable to see correctly in depth. He rather not ask questions on how he came to be the Aitheria’s alpha pilot. Just as long he doesn’t crush into anything, he was happy not knowing.
They left through Paradise’s door for the lift. Andrey sipping on his coffee as he held the thermos in the other hand, cradled to his side like a precious metal child. He just loved it that fresh coffee with French Vanilla creamer mixed in was always waited for him in the mornings and throughout the day. He need this Heavenly drink to function and if Lieutenant Bismark couldn’t function, the ship would cease to be the glory that it was to the Union.
Lord knows that Captian Peter Cook wasn’t doing anything for the Aitheria. That dandy debutante. He just sat on the throne and flirt with the crew and practice his ‘why yes I am sexy’ smile in a small pocket mirror. So without Lieutenant Bismark, The Aitheria is just a ship filled with fools. It was still a ship filled with fools but fools that get the job done.
That was the important part.
He sipped on his mug as the two man plus three ensigns that looked like they were sleeping on their feet were carried in the lift up to the floor where the mess hall was located. Paradise of course had his robe hood up over his head to cover his face. Even that pansy ass Julius could see that the Magi was self-conscious about the scars on his face. But he saw nothing wrong with them, he had seen worse. Just not his place to just yank the hood down when the man doesn’t want it to happen.
The lift jerked to a stop and the riders walked. Paradise groaned as he saw the long line at the buffet spread and just pluck down in a chair. “I’ll wait.” Head tucked under folded arms. Andrey sat down with the thermos on the table.
“Don’t wait too long, these vultures would grab every single bit and then you would end up starving to death and then we would be needing a new Magi.” He sipped at his mug and then poured more of the Heavenly liquid into it.
“Well I’ll save y’all the headache of breaking in a new Magi for the third time and grab something when the line is a bit shorter.” He replied from under the cover of arms and cloth.
“That’s the spirit.” The blond pilot raised his mug in a half-hearted salute then sipped some more. He didn’t blink when Captian Peter Cook sat down across from the Magi. Just rolled his eyes when the man started speaking.
“Why, Olander. You look like a barrel of sunshine.” He grinded, reaching over to pet the jade-eyed man on the head. His hand was slapped away before it could made contact. Have to be amazed at those other-worldly skills.
“It’s Paradise, not Olander.” He raised his head to glare at the man in front of him. “Shall I bounce around in a little mini skirt and bra with a name tag on so you could remember my name? “ He groaned when the captian just grinned bigger at the image. “I’m not going to bounce around in a little mini skirt and bra.”
“I really don’t think you got the legs for it myself, Pari.” Andrey commented, setting the mug down on the table. “I see you in a lovely knee-long skirt with the spilt in the side.”
Paradise shrugged and made for a grab towards the mug to get some caffeine in his system. He let out a squeak when his hand was swatted by a pale hand. “Mine.” the pilot pulled the mug closer to himself to protect the cup.
“Back to the mini-skirt idea.” Cook held up a finger with a thoughtful on his light-creamy face.
“Let’s not.” Both men spoke in unison. Then the Magi stood up, wanting a spot in the line before it turned long again.
“Sir, if I may.” Cook turned his head to face his pilot. “He isn’t going to fall for your lack of charm and well practice smile, so why not quit well you’re just a pest to him and try to focus on your ship.” Blue eyes stared at grey eyes, as the mouth was covered once more by ceramic.
“But I got him where I want him, my dear Lieutenant. I’ll give it till the end of the week till he’s begging to be in my bed.” He chuckled and wink before getting out of the seat and headed over for another table.
“I’ll give it till the end of the week till you’re begging for the morphine for the pain in your back.” Andrey sighed, muttering to himself.
Across the large area, sat two fuming but very beautiful officers. Julius Conrelius Von Histanbul Aloquotious and Isabella Churchill were the senior communicator and the head of the Science branch of the Aitheria. Both thought to be the jewels of the Union flagship and only their little group of minions, or legally known as ensigns thought that. They were also the co-leaders of the Cook fan club aboard the ship. And they were not happy that their handsome and wonderfully charming leader was chasing after some riff-raff from a giant ball of dust.
“We need to get rid of him, some how.” The white-haired xeno tapped his perfectly groomed nails on the surface of the table.
“He’s the Magi. It won’t be that easy.” The redheaded woman picked roughly at her grapefruit. “Very doubtful that we could do the usual tricks on him.”
“We are the smartest minds of the Aitheria. We can think of something to get rid of that desert-worm.” Her friend retorted as he swirled his spoon in his raspberry flavored tea. “Magi or not, he isn’t that invincible. He is a just a man, therefore he shall be easy to remove. “ He pulled the ceramic cup up to his lightly painted lips. “Or at least be viewed lowly in our dear Captain’s eyes. “ He took a long graceful sip.
“Oooh, got any ide-” She started to speak but was cut off when her spoon cut deep into the pink pulp of the fruit and great amount of juice squirted into the pink eyes of the communicator.
He screeched to an un-worldly high pitch as he jumped up in panic, rubbing at his eye. Then he yelped when he toppled over a pulled chair and landed sorely on his rump, back and head. The entire Mess Hall was in silence as his minions gathered him up and quickly took him down to the Med Bay. Petting his soft white hair, cooing gentle words that it would be all right. Isabella nervously chuckled at the other crew members as she stood up, smoothing down her skintight, tiny tee shirt before running out of the Mess Hall after her best friend.
“Couldn’t write better stuff then that.” Andrey grinned against his mug as his new friend sat down beside him with his breakfast tray. Both were laughing at the whole scene as they spilt an omelet and sausage plate.
Chapter two:
It is now 0600. The subject was still sleeping peacefully in the assigned room. As the subject’s primary caregiver, it was up to Jed Sulliman to go down to the Mess Hall with a metal thermos that would be filled with Chef’s own blend of coffee and mixed in with French Vanilla creamer. The gamma shift were there eating their late night dinners, along the other early raisers that were munching on breakfast. Aitheria’s own doctor was sitting at a table, nibbling on toast and working on a crossword puzzle. A fuzzy bunny slipper tapping on the floor to an unknown beat while the navigator was sleeping with his head on the table, snuggling a teddy bear dressed in doctor’s scrubs.
He wanted to sit down with the bleached-blond and chat for a bit but the subject would be needing the coffee in order to his great and awesome self. So with a quick wave, the security officer said good morning to Dr. Cletus, who just grunted, never looking up from his PADD. Jed nodded his morning greeting to sleepy crew members on their way to start their shifts or their way to their rooms for bed. Then he was standing in front of the door to his own personal Mecca. He took a moment to rest his head against the Holy Door, rubbing his hand against its smooth surface and just soaking in the pure awesomeness that radiant from inside.
Then he looked to the right and to the left, seeing no-one coming or going from either direction. Jed tapped in the code to unlock the door, wincing at the loud swishing sound, holding his breath before he walked inside. The big burly man felt so small and humble as he slowly walked around the room. To outsiders, it was a room of pure chaos, ugly tropical shirts and band shirts and other items of clothing clattered the floor as the desk and shelves are filled to the brim with models of ships and weapons and PADDS. But to Jedidaiah F. Sulliman, it was like being in God’s bedroom. He stood quite still, watching the lump under the green with black tiger stripped bed cover. After a few minutes of careful breathing, the big man placed the metal thermos on a clear spot on the work desk, and pulled out a clean white rag and took a coffee mug with a brass knuckles ring for an handle and slowly made his way into the pilot’s bathroom to wash the mug out in the sink.
The security guard would do anything for his pilot. The man was just so perfect, only five feet and eight inches with the cutest blond curls framing around his cherub face and big blue eyes that twinkle with their own light, even more so when he was handling a weapon or cutting down the Captian with his snaky but cute remarks. The pale skin has to be soft to the touch , like puppy’s fur. Not like he had a chance to touch the pale smooth skin. Alas, Jed has to admire from far since the pilot doesn’t even notice him except when it came to weapon protocol and when he was asking for his mug to be refill with coffee. Dark brown eyes narrowed in at the sight of unfamiliar items in the bathroom, like the herbal scrubs and unmarked bottles of other herbal things that lined the more cleaner side of the bathroom sink.
His pilot, his only meaning in this dull and empty life of a solider, has a new roommate.
A Magi roommate. A hoo-doo wielding ‘Holy’ man that had gotten Captian Cook all up in a tizzy the day before. The Captian was a prime example of a hands on pervert. He was easy on the eyes, if one has to say it like that. All the female crew members and some males were in love with his cocky smile and glistering grey eyes. But the man was a total moron and was only a figure head. While Lieutenant Andrey Bismark was the true Captian of The Aitheria. The man behind the shiny Captain’s chair if you will. But the Magi has now sharing the bathroom with the great man, when Jed has sent in request after request to take the empty room on the other side of the bathroom door. Clearly, he has to find out who does room assignments and persuade the officer to do some switching around,
Then shrill and blood-curling screams wrecked through the image of the security officer ‘persuading’ the room assigning crew member. The floor shook, Jed had to grab onto the edge of the sink counter while the pilot was jumping out of bed, fumbling around for his assigned gun. When the floor seemed steady to walked on again, the big burly man forced the door open, ready for action as he stomped into the Magi’s quarters.
Now this was a scene of chaos. Everything was all over the place, turned over or cracked as the dark haired Magi was clutching the side of the bed, he was sitting on the floor when he fell off in his terror. Jade eyes opened wide in unfocused terror and he was breathing in quick and shallow inhales and exhales.
Jed slowly moved towards the man, hands out and eyes watchful as if he was approaching a wild scared animal. Andrey just burst in from behind pushing the bigger man to the side.
“What the fuck?! Seriously are we under attack or what!?” His blond curls bouncing around against his forehead as he looked around at the mess then looking at the Magi who had claimed down and was standing up, fixing his bed back together. He kept his head down.
Paradise didn’t answer back, feeling way too embarrassed about having the two men rushing in after the little outburst. He suffered from chronic nightmares. They were from that the he was a teenager before his old master found him bleeding and dying after a gang raid in the desert. Just images of Hellish terror of people imploding, screaming before turning into ash. He was stuck in the center, covered in blood unable to stop himself from killing the dream people.
“Nothing is wrong here.” He looked up, calm and sure and eyes staring that said ’nothing to see, move along.’ The magi was dressed in layers of clothing, unable to feel warm in this freezing ship in his normal sleeping attire. He even had on five pairs of socks after expressing that first shock of bare feet on cold metal floor. Paradise kept his scared cheek hidden by keeping his head turned to the right.
“Says the man dressed like my grandma on her way to the knitting convection.” The pilot remarked and answered the Comm that was beeping for attention, asking what just happen with ‘it was just our resident Magi having a nightmare, carry on.’
“Jed, do you mind? Clearly everything is fine and we don’t need the head of security looming around.” He addressed the bigger man of the three in the room, yawning as he rubbed his hands in his fair curls.
Jed was memorized at the action and at the sight of the shorter man just in a pair of cotton boxers with little cartoon figures printed all over it and old faded to grey shirt with a smoking gun printed on the front. He coughed and nodded when he finally came to.
“R-r-right s-sir.” with that he just saluted and bumped into the door when it didn’t just swish open for him. “Umm…the mug is in the sink and the coffee on the desk. See you on t-the bridge.” He bowed at the waist and walked out when the door did swished open, rubbing his sore nose.
Pilot and Magi just looked at each other with mirrored looks of raised eyebrows at the whole scene. Then they both just shrugged their shoulders. Andrey gave a long yawn, rubbing his stomach as he made his way back to his side and Paradise began putting his room back into order. Tossing the broken items in a wastebasket, he sighed then groaned as he covered his face in his hands. His bathroom door was then closed as the pilot started up the shower.
Perfect. Perfect. At least on Aeryon, a mini quake could be explained off easy. No-one would pay attention to it at all. But on a ship that was flying through space , how could he explained it off? ‘Must have been a problem with the engine? Ha ha?’ Right, that could work. Not.
The Magi sat on the bed, stretching his back and grumbled when he felt his nose and ears turning cold. Why couldn’t they just turn up the damn heat? Not everyone were from ice planets for fuck sake. He pulled the hood that was connected to the pale red sweatshirt that he wore over the sleep shirt over his head and buried his face inside.
After the tackle from the Captian the day before, Paradise spent the rest of the day in his new room. He didn’t dare move from his bed when he felt the ship taking off, leaving the Magow Union station. Then once he felt safe to move, he just set up his room with his meager belongings. The Magi don’t get paid often, if at all, for their missions. Mostly any money that came from Temple were used mostly to buy needed supplies while away on missions. Most Magi don’t even buy clothes for every day use. Only for what was needed when they have to go undercover.
Students don’t even get the right to wear anything but the official student dress of simple green tunic and white pants to go with the brown boots and dark brown robes. So most of his clothes were freshly brought right after he graduated to Master. By most, he meant all. He really had hated the green tunic and white pants but as good little Magi student, he sucked it up and then burnt the clothes after he could afford to. Still he didn’t have a lot of clothes, just enough to fill up half of the space in the closet. There was no need to explain how he bought the clothes but just know that Temple would be very, very unpleased with his method.
The required Magi dress uniform which was really a light cream colored tunic and dark brown pants hanged in the far back, ready to wear when the time came for it. Mostly when a Master Magi of Temple ranking came to visit. Hopefully that would be a rare thing. The whole damn thing was itchy and uncomfortable to wear longer then five minutes. Cheap material for an order of monk-like warriors.
That made sense in a weird way, he guessed.
Once the room was set up as he wanted it to be for the time being, his stomach was growling. So pulling on the pale red hooded sweatshirt to wear under his robe to stay warm and also to be prepared for another stripping attack, The young Magi walked on out into the hallway of the crew quarters. He was told that he would be sharing the bathroom with a senior officer, the main pilot of the Aitheria. But since it was just now time for beta shift when he finally came out of his room, he hasn’t met his roommate yet. Nationally he was….not nervous, but curious about the man.
It would suck so bad if the pilot was anything like that insufferable Captian Cook. It would be bad to have to kill two men instead of just that one.
The Magi walked down the hall, feeling sort of lost on his way to the Mess hall. He bit at his lip, trying to remember what floor it was on if it wasn’t on this one. Before long, his hungry self was like fuck it and made his rational self, just sensed out for it, instead of just asking a wondering crew member for directions. He will not accept help from people when he has to be seem all powerful and all knowing. Paradise leaned against the metal wall and closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly through his nostrils.
A hard impact of air hit him as his astral body left the physical body and zoomed out through the ship before it located the most wanted area. The astral body then was pulled back in a deep inhaled. “Oof.” the sudden feeling of a hard object hitting into him, cause Paradise to back into the wall with thud. He rubbed his head, glad not to feel a bump growing behind there. Then he made his way to a turbo lift and hit the required button to make it go up one floor. Glad that he was alone so he could hug onto the walls as he felt the lift just flying up then come to a sudden jerking stop.
He would never get use to space travel. Desert life was simple. One could go outside, feel the heat of the suns and the sand under your feet. Could feel life all around you, not cold and metal. He really hoped that this mission was a short one and his next one was back at home, where he was comfortable and safe.
The lift open and he quickly pulled his robe hood over his head to hide his face when he saw that people were waiting to use the lift. He pushed his way put and walked with his head held high, creating the air of importance. He was Magi, he was important.
The Mess Hall was buzzing with crew members of the Aitheria, mostly from alpha shift on their meal break. He groaned when he saw the Capitan sitting at a table, talking to members of his crew while surrounded by the female staff. The key thing to remember about the crew that worked on the flagship of the Union is that they were the most un-orthodox of the entire Union Star Fleet. The crew don’t even wear the required uniform of blue and gold. Some were just the pants with a shirt of their choice, others the jacket with their own clothes. A lot of the women went the too small and not enough approach to the dress code. So to see Cook’s head bobbling among the sea of cleavage, Paradise felt his blood boil a little and ignored the captian call of ‘Olander over here!’ and planted himself in line for a bowl of pasta with meat sauce and gilled cheese sandwich. He grabbed a cup and poured himself some fruit drink before walking away from the buffet line.
He headed for an empty table, not really up to making buddies on the first day at meal time. But then something made the Magi changing his mind. More like a snarky line from a snarky blond pilot.
“Ever been so drunk that you flipped a tank?” He stopped and raised an thin eyebrow before stopping at the side of the pilot, then sitting down in the empty chair.
“Ever been so mad that you start swinging a cactus?” They both shared a curled of the lip as both men looked at each other, right before Paradise took a bite of his sandwich.
“Yep right before I flipped the tank.” The blond man took a sip of his coffee. From that simple action a bond was made.
A few tables away, a solder with a buzzed hair cut almost squeezed his cup into a ball, watching his Idol , his golden God of the stars begin to talk to the Aitheria’s new Magi.
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The door from the pilot’s side open just as Paradise was drying his hair from the morning shower with his Union issued towel. He barely had enough time to cover his right cheek from his roommate , feeling self-conscious about his scars. Even more so when he just provided the rough wake up call for the man. Andrey didn’t seem to care when he rushed for his toothbrush and paste and started brushing his teeth at the sink. He kept his blue eyes down as he scrubbed his teeth with quick jerking movements.
“If you going to treat us all to a wake up call, by the way, I greatly am against that, I suggest just setting an alarm next to Comm speakers. I don’t really like jumble around in my own bed unless I got a somebody doing the jumbling with me.” He looked up in to mirror to meet the one jade and the one lighter hue eye. Smiling a little as he spit out the minty spittle in the sink.
Paradise, despite not wanting to, allowed his lips curled up in a grin and snorted to keep from chuckle himself. “I’ll try to keep from shaking this ship around in the morning.” He shook his head as the towel hanged over his head, walking back into his room. He quickly grabbed his hood sweatshirt to pull over the blue midriff long sleeve shirt, cursing once more about the fake air of the ship.
Then he dropped down on the bed , grabbing his boots and sliding them on and tucking his pants legs inside before tying them up. The boots were black and went up to his calf with purple and green shoe strings.
“You know, Pari, Dr. Cletus would be very unforgiving if you jumbled him out of bed. Though much doubt that he would feel the impact of hitting the floor as much he drinks at night.” The pilot walked in, pulling on his Union uniform jacket to wear open and over a blue and white tropical shirt. “I have great beliefs that the man’s blood is fifty percent rum.”
“So when the rum’s gone, we could always drink his blood?” Paradise looked up as he tried up his left boot.
Andrey shrugged. “Or just raid his room for the bottles he got hidden there.” He tugged his pilot hat on the top of the blonde curls. Then walked back into his room to grab a pair of 3D glasses to wear,
At first sight of these from the day before, Paradise had asked him why he wore these glasses. The answer was scary as much as it was funny. The pilot just answered that he had no depth perception. It made him feel so much better that he was on a ship in space with its pilot unable to see correctly in depth. He rather not ask questions on how he came to be the Aitheria’s alpha pilot. Just as long he doesn’t crush into anything, he was happy not knowing.
They left through Paradise’s door for the lift. Andrey sipping on his coffee as he held the thermos in the other hand, cradled to his side like a precious metal child. He just loved it that fresh coffee with French Vanilla creamer mixed in was always waited for him in the mornings and throughout the day. He need this Heavenly drink to function and if Lieutenant Bismark couldn’t function, the ship would cease to be the glory that it was to the Union.
Lord knows that Captian Peter Cook wasn’t doing anything for the Aitheria. That dandy debutante. He just sat on the throne and flirt with the crew and practice his ‘why yes I am sexy’ smile in a small pocket mirror. So without Lieutenant Bismark, The Aitheria is just a ship filled with fools. It was still a ship filled with fools but fools that get the job done.
That was the important part.
He sipped on his mug as the two man plus three ensigns that looked like they were sleeping on their feet were carried in the lift up to the floor where the mess hall was located. Paradise of course had his robe hood up over his head to cover his face. Even that pansy ass Julius could see that the Magi was self-conscious about the scars on his face. But he saw nothing wrong with them, he had seen worse. Just not his place to just yank the hood down when the man doesn’t want it to happen.
The lift jerked to a stop and the riders walked. Paradise groaned as he saw the long line at the buffet spread and just pluck down in a chair. “I’ll wait.” Head tucked under folded arms. Andrey sat down with the thermos on the table.
“Don’t wait too long, these vultures would grab every single bit and then you would end up starving to death and then we would be needing a new Magi.” He sipped at his mug and then poured more of the Heavenly liquid into it.
“Well I’ll save y’all the headache of breaking in a new Magi for the third time and grab something when the line is a bit shorter.” He replied from under the cover of arms and cloth.
“That’s the spirit.” The blond pilot raised his mug in a half-hearted salute then sipped some more. He didn’t blink when Captian Peter Cook sat down across from the Magi. Just rolled his eyes when the man started speaking.
“Why, Olander. You look like a barrel of sunshine.” He grinded, reaching over to pet the jade-eyed man on the head. His hand was slapped away before it could made contact. Have to be amazed at those other-worldly skills.
“It’s Paradise, not Olander.” He raised his head to glare at the man in front of him. “Shall I bounce around in a little mini skirt and bra with a name tag on so you could remember my name? “ He groaned when the captian just grinned bigger at the image. “I’m not going to bounce around in a little mini skirt and bra.”
“I really don’t think you got the legs for it myself, Pari.” Andrey commented, setting the mug down on the table. “I see you in a lovely knee-long skirt with the spilt in the side.”
Paradise shrugged and made for a grab towards the mug to get some caffeine in his system. He let out a squeak when his hand was swatted by a pale hand. “Mine.” the pilot pulled the mug closer to himself to protect the cup.
“Back to the mini-skirt idea.” Cook held up a finger with a thoughtful on his light-creamy face.
“Let’s not.” Both men spoke in unison. Then the Magi stood up, wanting a spot in the line before it turned long again.
“Sir, if I may.” Cook turned his head to face his pilot. “He isn’t going to fall for your lack of charm and well practice smile, so why not quit well you’re just a pest to him and try to focus on your ship.” Blue eyes stared at grey eyes, as the mouth was covered once more by ceramic.
“But I got him where I want him, my dear Lieutenant. I’ll give it till the end of the week till he’s begging to be in my bed.” He chuckled and wink before getting out of the seat and headed over for another table.
“I’ll give it till the end of the week till you’re begging for the morphine for the pain in your back.” Andrey sighed, muttering to himself.
Across the large area, sat two fuming but very beautiful officers. Julius Conrelius Von Histanbul Aloquotious and Isabella Churchill were the senior communicator and the head of the Science branch of the Aitheria. Both thought to be the jewels of the Union flagship and only their little group of minions, or legally known as ensigns thought that. They were also the co-leaders of the Cook fan club aboard the ship. And they were not happy that their handsome and wonderfully charming leader was chasing after some riff-raff from a giant ball of dust.
“We need to get rid of him, some how.” The white-haired xeno tapped his perfectly groomed nails on the surface of the table.
“He’s the Magi. It won’t be that easy.” The redheaded woman picked roughly at her grapefruit. “Very doubtful that we could do the usual tricks on him.”
“We are the smartest minds of the Aitheria. We can think of something to get rid of that desert-worm.” Her friend retorted as he swirled his spoon in his raspberry flavored tea. “Magi or not, he isn’t that invincible. He is a just a man, therefore he shall be easy to remove. “ He pulled the ceramic cup up to his lightly painted lips. “Or at least be viewed lowly in our dear Captain’s eyes. “ He took a long graceful sip.
“Oooh, got any ide-” She started to speak but was cut off when her spoon cut deep into the pink pulp of the fruit and great amount of juice squirted into the pink eyes of the communicator.
He screeched to an un-worldly high pitch as he jumped up in panic, rubbing at his eye. Then he yelped when he toppled over a pulled chair and landed sorely on his rump, back and head. The entire Mess Hall was in silence as his minions gathered him up and quickly took him down to the Med Bay. Petting his soft white hair, cooing gentle words that it would be all right. Isabella nervously chuckled at the other crew members as she stood up, smoothing down her skintight, tiny tee shirt before running out of the Mess Hall after her best friend.
“Couldn’t write better stuff then that.” Andrey grinned against his mug as his new friend sat down beside him with his breakfast tray. Both were laughing at the whole scene as they spilt an omelet and sausage plate.