"LUNAR:  Starship Andromeda"

Back to the LUNAR: Starship Andromeda page

LUNAR:  Starship Andromeda

By Jeffery C. Branch and Daryll Pung

Episode Two:  Into The Black

Rated: R

Nimitz Dockyard, in high orbit over Planet Luna, Sol system, 13 March 2740

 The SLS Andromeda

            On the main bridge, activity was quietly frenetic as the ship prepared to get underway.  Seated in the center of the bridge in a high backed, black leather chair, Sailor Siryn, her long legs primly crossed observed the activity of the officers and support staff at their various stations, expertly going over their pre-departure checklists, as was the entire crew.

While it didn’t show on her face- maintaining a public air of stoic professionalism was very important to her- the Irish Senshi was extremely excited about taking her ship out into the great unknown.  At that moment in time, Sailor Siryn never felt happier than to be a starship captain, even if it wasn’t her original career choice when she was a teenager.

“Mr. Ryvvius, ship status, please,” she called to her Operations Officer, seated in a smaller chair to her right where the First Officer would normally sit, as she had given Sailor Eldrea permission to fly in with her squadron.  The Vulcan, Setar, performing the Ops functions, occupied his own chair, to the captain’s left.

“All stations have reported in, captain.  Status:  green,” Ryvvius replied crisply, checking status reports on the smallish viewscreen on the right arm of the chair. 

“Support crews disembarked.  All umbilical supports detached.  Running lights activated.  We are floating free, captain,” Setar reported, gazing briefly at a similar screen on the arm of his chair.

“Very good.  Mr. Rostov, place thrusters at station keeping.  I trust you know where we’re going?”

At the helm station, forward of where the Captain and her two top officers sat, a clean-shaven, hard faced man nodded and pressed two buttons on his console.  “Thrusters at station keeping, ma’am,” said the helmsman in a thick, Russian accent.  “Course plotted and laid in.”

“Thank you.  Tactical.”

“All weapons systems functional, captain.  Shields and sensors are operational,” Khatari growled from the Tactical station.

“Engine room, Mr. Topper, are you ready?” 

“One hundred percent, captain,” came back the voice of Topper.

“Sickbay?”

“Sickbay here.  We’re prepared, captain.  I’ve got plenty of band-aids on hand for our little trip,” Doc Ellie glibly replied.

Sailor Siryn shook her head and grinned, as did Ryvvius from the joke about band-aids, a medical item that had been phased out centuries ago.  “Thank you, Doctor. Hopefully, you won’t have to use them.”  The Irish Senshi looked around the bridge, and then pressed a button on the arm of her chair, which activated the ship-wide intercom.

“All hands, this is the captain.  I want thank everyone for the long hours and hard work you put in on such short notice to prepare Andromeda for launch.  I also want to say that the road ahead doesn’t get any easier from here.  Now that we’re officially on active duty, our job will be to represent Neo-Queen Serenity and her mission objective to protect the citizens of the Golden Millennium.  And do so in one of the more perilous regions in space today.  I will demand of each and every one of you what I demand from myself:  courage, strength, loyalty, devotion, and selflessness, to give one hundred percent every day.  I expect no less, and I am certain you will respond in kind.  Stand by for departure.”

“Captain, the dockmaster reports that we are clear to launch,” said the Communications Officer, a beautiful, willowy Vegan woman with long, silky purple hair and eyes to match.  She was a very young officer.  “RSN Fighter Command reports that our squadron is in readiness for takeoff after we depart.”

“Very good, Lt. Miriele.  Andromeda, are you monitoring everything?” Sailor Siryn asked.

“I am indeed, ma’am.  All is ready,” came back the voice of the AI.

“Time to get this show on the road,” said Sailor Siryn, her eyes gleaming from anticipation swelling in her chest.  “Mr. Rostov, one quarter sublight.  Take us out.  Let’s see what’s out there.”

Starbase One

The large, circular space, accessible only to high ranking Senshi or RSN flag officers offered a magnificent view of the base, the docks and beyond via its floor to ceiling windows.  Standing at one window, Sailor Neptune, a melancholy look on her face watched as Andromeda slowly left its berth on her journey to the Alpha Zone.  So intent was the Planetary’s vigil, she barely noticed someone walk up to her and put an arm around her shoulders.

Sailor Neptune turned so see Sailor Uranus standing next to her.  The burly blonde gave her longtime partner a warm, loving smile.  “Hi, babe.  Your secretary told me you were up here.  Watching another chick leave the nest, I take it.”

The teal haired Planetary nodded then returned Sailor Uranus’ smile.  Instinctively, she slipped an arm around Sailor Uranus’ waist, and then rested her head on the taller woman’s shoulder, like she had thousands of times before.  “Funny you should put it quite that way, Amara.  But you’re right.  I always feel exactly like that.  Every time I watch a new ship leave, I can’t help but wonder if she’ll return home.  Especially in this case as I’m concerned about rushing Andromeda into service early, and sending her off to the Alpha Zone before she’s fully ready.  That worries me.”

“It’s not the first time you’ve had to do that, and it won’t be the last.  After all, we need ships out there,” Sailor Uranus said.  “Besides, I wouldn’t worry, Andromeda’s in great hands.  Fiona’s sharp as a razor and was born to sit in the big chair.  Despite being so young for a Senshi, she’s got excellent leadership and organizational skills.”

“Among her other... attributes,” Sailor Neptune added with a sly grin.

The burly Planetary chuckled.  “Well, I wasn’t going to mention that, but- DAMN!  Fiona’s also got the biggest fucking tits I’ve ever seen.  And a pretty nice ass to boot.  I’ll bet she’s a real firecracker in bed.  I swear, Mich, if I wasn’t married, I’d shack up with that girl in a heartbeat!”

Sailor Neptune, feeling playful, snapped her head up and pinioned her former lover with a look of feigned outrage.  “What?  You’d throw me to the curb, just like that?  After everything we’ve meant to each other over the centuries?  And over a pair of overgrown mammaries?  You miserable, two-timing whore!”

“Hey!  Friendship’s one thing!  But, big, juicy boobs to fondle are quite another!” Sailor Uranus joked before she and Sailor Neptune collapsed into laughter.  “C’mon, kiddo, I’ll treat you to a drink.  You need one.  I bought a four hundred year old bottle of Kentucky bourbon while vacationing in the States last month.  I guarantee it’ll put hair on your chest.”

Sailor Neptune giggled.  “Heh.  Sounds like fun.  It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten me drunk, Amara.  Gods!  How I miss the good old days!”

“You and me both, love.”  The two women, smiling fondly at each other, clasped hands, then left the lounge.

Nearing L-point, Sol system, 13 March, 2740

The SLS Andromeda

            From the large viewscreen on the main bridge, forty pinpricks of light, in five formations of eight each grew larger as they approached the ship.  As they came closer, everyone could see that the pinpricks were sleek, silvery but deadly Battlewings, the elite combat fighter ships of the RSN.

“Status,” Sailor Siryn ordered.

“The Battlewing squadrons are on approach course, captain,” Khatari reported in a growl from his post at the Tactical station.  The Isbanni officer’s catlike eyes were fixed tight on his displays.

“Captain, the squadron leaders are hailing us,” Miriele called.

“On speaker,” Sailor Siryn replied.

Miriele’s slim, long nailed fingers flew expertly over her board.

“Commander, Air Group, call sign ‘Gambler’, hailing Andromeda,” came the voice of Commander Eric Leialoha over the bridge speaker.  “Request permission to embark the Air Wing for duty.”

“This is Wing Leader of the 164th Squadron, call sign ‘Fullmetal’, hailing Andromeda,” said Sailor Eldrea.  “Request permission to embark the Seraph Knights for duty.”

“This is Andromeda to leaders.  Permission to embark granted,” Sailor Siryn replied.  “Bridge to Flight Control, prepare to receive Battlewing squadrons.”

“This is Flight Control.  We are ready, captain,” another voice replied.

“Mr. Ryvvius, please oversee the embarkation of the squadrons,” the Irish Senshi said to her Operations Officer.  “Then have Sailor Eldrea and Commander Leialoha report to me in my ready room.”

The Cygnian officer nodded as he rose from the chair at her captain’s right.  “It would be my pleasure, captain.”

As the Battlewings neared the ship, they broke off into three groups.  Twenty-four ships hovered over Andromeda’s two dorsal shuttlecraft bay doors while eight each hovered near the port and starboard doors.

In Flight Control, Lieutenant Trevor Newkirk, a blond, thin boned Englishman carefully observed the ships hovering outside on a bank of four monitor screens before him.  A second row of screens showed the interior of the bays with six shuttlecrafts parked near the bulkhead and were clear of personnel who had prepped the spaces for the arrival of the Battlewings.  As Ryvvius entered the space, Newkirk turned and nodded to the Cygnian as he walked up to him.

“What is your status, Mr. Newkirk?” he asked.

“The ships are at station keeping, sir.  Awaiting your order to bring them in,” Newkirk replied in a crisp, British accent.

“Very good.  You may proceed.”

With another nod, Newkirk activated the intercom system for the bays.  “All unnecessary personnel, depart bay areas at once.  I say again, all unnecessary personnel depart bay areas at once.  To shuttlebay crews, stand by.  Ship embarkment operation is now in effect.  Depressurizing bays, opening doors, tractor beams active.”

As Newkirk crisply and expertly worked his controls, the doors to all four bays slowly slid open.  After the doors opened, low level tractor beams drew the ships into the bays one at a time.  Newkirk and Ryvvius looked on as the ships were brought inside each bay and gently placed on their landing gear, which extended from the bottom of the craft onto white circular launch pads on the deck, then the doors slid closed.  In only five minutes, all forty battlewings were safely inside the bays.

“Doors closed, bays pressurized.  Shuttlebay crews, move in and mag-chock the craft,” said Newkirk.  “Battlewing pilots, your vessels are secure.  You can shut down your engines and deplane.”

“Well done, Mr. Newkirk,” said Ryvvius, pleased with the efficiency of the operation.

Newkirk grinned at the Cygnian.  “Practice makes perfect, sir.”

In the port side dorsal level bay, modified to contain additional fighter craft, and closest to Flight Control, the cockpit canopies of the Battlewings, lined up in two rows of eight opened and sixteen pilots rose as one entity from their craft.  Eight of the ships bore a black ace symbol with a leering skull in the center on the tail fin while the other eight sported a silver, downward-pointing sword with a golden halo around the hilt.  As support personnel entered the bay to chock the vessels with magnetic grapple hooks, the pilot of the lead ship looked behind him at the ships, neatly in a row.  Leialoha smiled from pride, satisfied with the embarkation.

The pilot of the craft next to Leialoha’s right was Sailor Eldrea.  The beautiful woman turned to Leialoha and gave him a friendly smile.  Few things in life made the Senshi happier than flying with her squadron.

“That went smoothly, Gambler,” said the Senshi.

“Of course it did, Fullmetal.  I make sure all my boys… and girls do everything smoothly,” Leialoha replied with a cocky grin.  “Your fliers are pretty sharp too.  I’m looking forward to my Marauders taking their lunch money during battle drills.”

Sailor Eldrea smirked back at him.  “Hmm.  Sounds like a challenge to me.  We’ll just have to attach a friendly little wager to that boast.”

“I thought you didn’t like to gamble.”

“And you’d be right.  The only time I do gamble is when I know I can win!” Sailor Eldrea added with a laugh.

“Sailor Eldrea, Commander Leialoha, please report to the captain’s ready room at once,” came the voice of Ryvvius over the speaker.

“No rest for the weary,” said Leialoha as he climbed down from his vessel.  “I’m guessing the skipper wants to go over strategies for the battle exercises.  Sailor Siryn certainly isn’t wasting time getting everything squared away.”

Nodding, Sailor Eldrea became grimly serious as she deplaned.  “None of us can afford to waste time, Gambler.  Not where we’re going.”

“Well, judging from this schedule you’ve drawn up, Doctor, we should be able to complete a good forty-five percent of the crew physicals within one month,” said Dr. Manuel Ortega, a short, balding, mustached Latino who was Andromeda’s Assistant Medical Officer as he sat in front of Doc Ellie’s desk.  He paused from going over readouts on a medical microcomp to grin at her.  “I must say that’s quite an ambitious goal you’ve set.”

Doc Ellie, nursing a mug of spiced Colombian coffee smiled back.  “But of course it is, Manuel.  Our captain expects us to be ambitious.  Are you sure I can’t interest you in some coffee?  I just brewed it myself.”

“I’ll pass.  You make that stuff strong enough to degrease shuttlecraft engines,” Ortega said with a chuckle.  He then turned to the Vulcan female who sat ramrod stiff in a chair beside his in a starched white nurse’s uniform.  “What’s your opinion, T’Sheyra?  You’ll be in charge of scheduling the appointments.  Can you manage it?”

Ensign T’Sheyra, the Head Nurse, gave Ortega a briefly reproachful look.  “I am a Vulcan, Doctor.  Meeting an objective is not a problem.  You can rest assured that the appointments will be made.  And kept.”

“If the crew knows what’s good for them,” Doc Ellie joked.  “I’ve viewed your bedside manner, dear girl.  To call it unnerving would be a gross understatement.  It’s like being ministered to by the Marquis deSade.”

The look T’Sheyra gave Doc Ellie bordered on annoyance, rare for a Vulcan.  “I merely believe in being efficient, Doctor.  And that often calls for dispensing with the usual physician-patient pleasantries.”

At that moment, the buzzer rang.  Doc Ellie checked her chronometer.  “Ahh, that’ll be my 1730 appointment.  I’ll leave the two of you to work out all the details and start the ball rolling.”

Ortega nodded as he and T’Sheyra rose from their seats.  “It’ll be taken care of, Ellie.”

The door to Doc Ellie’s office opened and a tall, shapely and utterly gorgeous black woman with waist long, glossy black hair, piercing, coal black eyes and full, dark red lips strode into the office.  Everything about the woman exuded class and elegance with just a hint of arrogance, something Ortega and T’Sheyra noticed right away.  After they left and the door closed behind them, the woman came to attention at Doc Ellie’s desk.

“Lieutenant Gabrielle Ventura, Ship’s Counselor, reporting as ordered, Doctor,” she said a smooth, mellow voice.

“Please, be seated,” said Doc Ellie, motioning to a chair.  The woman sat and crossed her legs, her posture perfect.  “I’m glad to have you aboard, Lieutenant.  As you know, the job of a Counselor is to monitor the emotional, psychological and physiological condition of the crew under stressful situations, such as combat.  You came highly recommended by the Surgeon General’s Office and have an excellent record.  I’ve read in your service jacket that you’re certified in diplomatic procedures and have a Class Three rating, two steps below full Diplomat status.  Impressive, but hardly useful in the medical field.”

“Perhaps.  Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve been intrigued with the work of diplomats.  They greatly fascinated me,” Ventura cooly explained.  “I have a Master’s Degree in Political Science from Harvard, and I studied for five years under Soluch of Vulcan, one of the greatest diplomats of the last century.  It never hurts to possess knowledge in more than one field of endeavor.  You never know when those extra skills may come in handy.”

“Can’t argue that.  By the way, I also read that you asked for this assignment.  If I’m not being nosy, might I ask why?”

“Nosy?  Certainly not, Doctor,” said Ventura with a wry, but guarded little smile.  “My previous commands were scout ships, destroyers and off-world bases, professionally rewarding but, on a personal level, considerably less than... stimulating.  I wanted the challenge of serving on a battleship, the vanguard of the fleet.  When the Counselor position on Andromeda became available, I saw it is a dream come true because I know this will be a positively exhilarating assignment.”

“Hmm.  Sounds to me like you’re looking for some excitement.”

Ventura nodded every so slightly, but the gleam in her dark eyes gave herself away.  “Yes, Doctor.  I am.”

Her expression hardening, Doc Ellie, suspecting she had a thrill junkie on her hands- one of the very few things she had no patience for since such people were inherently reckless and often wound up under her care, or dead- leaned forward in her chair and gave Ventura a steely glare.  “Be careful what you wish for, Lieutenant.  You may just get it.”

Ventura, unfazed, defiantly returned the stare while a trace of a smirk curled her lips.  “Not to worry, Doctor.  I’m always careful.  You can rest assured that I will not disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t.  I’ll want you on the bridge tomorrow morning to monitor the command crew during the first series of drills.  I’ll clear it with the captain tonight.  You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, Doctor.  I appreciate your taking the time out of your busy day to talk to me.”  Ventura rose from her seat, nodded slightly to Doc Ellie, then strode out.  

Once the doors closed, the Amaran physician sat back in her chair and shook her head.  “Whew.  What a piece of work she is.  Fiona’s certainly going to love that girl.  Or strangle her.”

The seven members of the Seraph Knights, a group as diverse as the modified Battlewings they flew were carefully looking over their vessels after the flight from Starbase One when Sailor Eldrea, smartly dressed in her RSN uniform (she rarely wore her fuku unless absolutely necessary) entered.  As one, the pilots came to attention and saluted their leader.  They noticed right away that the upper portion of the Senshi’s tunic was no longer gray, the recently-chosen color for Air Wing personnel, but white for Command crew.

“We thought you were never gonna show up, boss,” said Commander Maurice Smith, call sign Raptor, a wiry, good looking African-American, a wide smile splitting his dark face.  “What kept you?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Raptor, I have other duties which take up a lot of my time,” Sailor Eldrea replied with a grin as she pointed at her tunic.  “I was going over the schedule for the remaining phase of the shakedown with Sailor Siryn.  The captain demands my attention be focused solely on helping get this ship fully ready for duty.”

“I’ve heard she’s a real hardass.  Guess she’s got you hopping,” commented Lieutenant Commander Jillyn Lersai, call sign Void, an attractive Vegan female with dyed black highlights in her dark blue hair.

“Yeah.  But hey, I’m having a blast.  So, guys, what did you think of the modifications on the flight control systems?”

“They were a bit sluggish, boss.  Reaction times with the flight computers was a off by a second or so, but the new mods should work out fine after a breaking-in period,” said Lieutenant Commander Shin Yong, call sign Swift, a smallish but lean muscled Korean who was the Knights’ computer expert.  He then broke out in a wide grin.  “I hear we’re gonna be flying drills with Gambler’s gomers tomorrow.  Flying rings around those losers should be a piece of cake.”

Commander Breck Menlenn, call sign Rage, a fierce looking Isbanni who sported a scar that ran down his left cheek laughed out loud, as did a couple of others.  “You said it, Swift!  We’re the Seraph Knights!  The baddest of the badasses!  We’ll tear those rookies a new one so fast they won’t know what hit ‘em!”

“Enough!  Table that attitude!  Right fucking now!  I won’t have any of you showing disrespect to Gambler’s squadron!” a suddenly furious Sailor Eldrea snapped at her people and they fell silent.  “What’s more, you know I hate overconfidence!  That’s a sure fire way to get killed in combat when you think you’re better than everyone else, only to find out the hard way that you’re not!  Nobody’s perfect, not even us!”

Sailor Eldrea paused to stare hard at every one of her pilots.  “For your information, Commander Leialoha has 85 kills, that’s more than any of you in here, and nearly as many as me!  Behind that laid-back, easy going persona is an angel of death, and he’s taught his people to be just as skilled and lethal as he is!  You don’t fly with the Gambler unless you know your shit, forwards, backwards and sideways!  Bottom line, don’t underestimate his pilots or you’ll wind up scorched!  Got me?”

“You’re right, boss.  We shouldn’t act so arrogant,” Rage added.  “You taught us better than that.”

“Damn straight, Rage, I did.  Those are lessons you should never forget,” Sailor Eldrea sighed.  “Here’s another lesson, people:  we’re all one team on this ship.  We have to work together if we’re to survive our patrol in the Alpha Zone.  I’ll accept nothing less than full compliance from you on this matter.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” the seven fliers shouted in unison.

“Good.”  The Luna-born Senshi flicked her wrist and produced a microcomp which she handed to Smith.  “The full scenario and assignments for tomorrow’s drill is on here.  I expect you to know everything like the back of your own hand when we launch tomorrow.  Anyone who doesn’t is on engine cleaning detail for a month.  That is all.”

Without waiting for a response, Sailor Eldrea spun on her heel and tromped out of the bay, leaving her pilots silent, and dumbfounded.

Sailor Eldrea, still annoyed with the attitude of her pilots walked quickly down the hall when a voice called out to her.  “Fullmetal!  Wait up!”

The Senshi turned to see Raptor trot up to her.  A look of concern was on his face.  “You were pretty harsh on the guys back there.”

“I had to be, Raptor.  Things are different.  I have to be different,” Sailor Eldrea replied sharply.  She then let out her remaining anger with a long sigh.  “Look, I’m not just a hotshot Battlewing pilot anymore.  As Andromeda’s First Officer, my primary responsibility is to this ship, the captain, and her crew.  I gave Sailor Siryn my word that she could depend on me.  You, of all people know that my word means more to me than life itself.  I’d rather die than go back on any promise I make!”

Raptor sighed sadly. “I know, boss.  I know.”

Sailor Eldrea brightened the mood by breaking out in a huge smile and clapping Smith hard on the shoulder.  “Hey!  Don’t be so down, pal!  I’ll still get to fly, though probably not as regularly as before.  Hell, without me around, you slackers couldn’t find your asses with both hands and a search party!”

“I resent that remark, madam!” Raptor said with a hearty chuckle.

“Hah!  I don’t!  Raptor, I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now, and it’s high time to make it official.  I want you to be the deputy leader of the Knights.  The team will need a competent topkick to lead them into action on the occasions when I can’t.”

Raptor’s eyes widened from shock.  “What?  Me?  You can’t be serious!  Boss, you built the team, practically from scratch!  You picked the fliers, trained us, led into battle!  You ARE the Seraph Knights!  I can’t just take your place!  It wouldn’t be right!”

“Yes, it would.  You were the first person I picked, your skills, both as a pilot, and a leader are excellent.”  Sailor Eldrea paused to clasp Raptor’s shoulders.  “The others trust you.  More importantly, I trust you.  There’s no one else besides me that I want leading the Knights than you.  Raptor, please.  For me.”

Again, Raptor sighed before nodding.  “Okay.  I’ll do it.  I won’t let you down.  I promise.”

“Great!  After I lead us in tomorrow’s drill, you’ll take over more responsibilities as leader.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Sure!  I’ve got a friendly wager with Gambler on who scores the most hits, us, or his fliers.  Of course, my money’s on us!  We’re going to wax those clowns, but good!”

Raptor grinned.  “Say, what happened to all that blather you spouted to us about overconfidence?”

Sailor Eldrea smirked back.  “Well, as that ancient motto goes:  do as I say, not as I do!”

Leialoha was going over strategies for tomorrow’s drill on a microcomp while sipping from a glass of Canadian ginger ale when the sound of a throat softly being cleared caught his attention.  The Hawaiian pilot looked up to see Ventura smiling down at him.  Leialoha smiled back.

“Hi,” she said, her dark eyes sparkling.

“Hi yourself.  Have a seat,” said Leialoha, his heart beating faster at the sight of the elegant black woman; the woman who was his lover, his soulmate, and the most important person in his world.

With a nod, Ventura sat next to Leialoha.  She then rested a hand on his.  “I was wondering if you were ignoring me, Eric.”

“Any man who ignores you is terminally stupid.  I’m sorry I haven’t stopped to see you sooner, Bree, but I’ve been busy.”  Leialoha paused to show Ventura what was on the screen of his microcomp.  “Battlewing drills tomorrow.  Gotta study up for the war games.”

“Well, you’re forgiven.”  Still smiling, Ventura placed a hand on Leialoha’s cheek.  “I’m so glad we’re together at last, my love.  The months spent apart from you were agonizing.  As it was, I almost missed out on being assigned here.  I would’ve been horribly disappointed if someone else landed the Counselor’s position on this ship.”

“You?  Disappointed?  Bree, I don’t think you’ve ever experienced that emotion in your life,” said the Hawaiian with a chuckle.  “You’ve told me that you were hopelessly spoiled as a child and always got what you wanted, be it by hook or by crook.  Knowing you like I do, you would’ve resorted to anything, including blackmail to get stationed here.  Serenity knows I’m proof of that unstoppable desire you have.”

Ventura’s lips curled in a wicked smile.  “What can I say?  From the moment I met you after your performance with the Marauders for the Royals at the Lunar Air Show three years ago, I knew I was meant to spend the rest of my life with you.  And nothing in this bloody universe was going to prevent that dream from coming true.”

Leialoha chuckled.  “Yeah.  You made that point crystal clear to me when you introduced yourself.  I’m starved, do you feel like having dinner?”

“To be perfectly honest, darling, the only thing I’m starving for right now is your body,” the gorgeous black woman growled, the look on her face now one of blatant, carnal lust.  “We haven’t had sex in ages.  Hell, I’m getting wet just from the anticipation.  I don’t want to waste another minute waiting to climb into your bed so you can fuck my brains out.”

The Hawaiian grinned.  The idea of bedplay greatly appealed to him.  “For someone who’s devoted her entire life to the pursuit of elegance in all its forms, you sure can talk dirty.”

“That’s what passion will do to a girl.  Well, are you coming or not?”

“You also ask some pretty stupid questions too,” Leialoha replied with a grin.  Shutting off his microcomp, he rose from his chair and extended a hand to Ventura.  “My cabin awaits.”

Having powered down from her Senshi form, Sailor Siryn, now a bone weary Fiona Cassidy, undressed, indulged in a long, hot shower, then slipped into a pair of white satin pajamas.  After padding over to her desk, the Irish woman spent several moments in silent contemplation before activating her data recorder.

“Captain’s Personal Log:  Lunar Date 03-13-2740.  Nine hours from launch.  With the Battlewing squadron onboard and the ship fully secure, Andromeda is now underway for the Alpha Zone at RIFT speed to begin our one year patrol.  The timing couldn’t have been better for me to get some rest, if Doc Ellie found out I’d gone over three days without sleep while preparing the ship for duty, she’d have me chained me to my bed and pumped full of enough septonodrine to knock out an elephant.  Hardly my cup of tea since that stuff makes me sick to my stomach.”

“Onto more pertinent matters.  Even though Andromeda is only halfway through her shakedown, the crew is still settling in, plus the mild concern of a relatively untested First Officer, I feel supremely confident that, in the end, this vessel, and her crew will come through with flying colors.  Ever since fate forced me into becoming a Senshi, being a starship captain was my only dream, and here I am, commanding one of Her Majesty’s dreadnaughts.  Now it’s time to justify the faith Neo-Queen Serenity placed in me as one of her loyal captains.  I can’t wait to begin the challenge.”

Switching off the recorder, Fiona yawned and stretched like a cat.  Feeling the exhaustion from days of non-stop activity, the Irish woman rose from the desk, walked over to her bed and lay down under the covers.  The coolness of the pillow against her skin relaxed her greatly.  She smiled from how good it felt.

“Andromeda, set alarm for 0400 sharp.  Lights out.”

“Alarm programmed.  Good night, captain,” the AI replied.  The lights slowly dimmed, then went out.  Within minutes, Fiona was sound asleep.

TO BE CONTINUED...