Skeleton

[Maj Vaos 0]

Korix sat in the command chair of the USS Agincourt, quite pleased to be there instead of on Earth—god anywhere but Earth. Since he’d come on aboard the Agincourt, he’d done his best to be scarce around the command staff, least they invite him to that dreadful affair most of them would be attending.

 

Growing up in the midst of an occupation, grand gala affairs comprised very little of ones times, and as such weren’t welcome or comfortable events. More like complete and utter wastes of time.

 

They could be half-way to their next destination instead of wining and dining in some monument to the human affinity for opulence. Of course, the ‘reason’ for the ball—celebrating the second anniversary of the ToV—didn’t seem all the appealing either. The whole event seemed more of a PR stunt than an actual diplomatic event.

 

The skeleton crew around him worked diligently, monitoring the resting Agincourt. He wondered if this was how Harper punished people she didn’t like—give them skeleton duty while everyone else cavorted on shoreleave.

 

Korix let a smirk crease across his lips, and then hid it beneath the hard exterior he put forth. He glanced at the chronometer on the bridge, two more hours, and then he could get some sleep. Then, it would be back to the grindstone. Davies would get his orders from the Admiralty…most likely complain…resent Korix for it…and finally realize he pretty much didn’t have a choice in the matter.

 

Korix shook his head, he preferred when the Marines and the Fleeters were kept separate. No conflicts of power, no struggles of egos. But no…they just had to ship off on some half-baked mission with a bunch of green Fleeters and an unproven Captain.

 

Had Korix believed in the immanence of the Prophets a prayer would likely have followed that thought, however…he simply groaned instead.

Edited September 8, 2005 by Maj Vaos