Chapter Twelve; Cilla Mouchette

Presidium

Cilla's Ponder

I was doing what I was doing, when my combadge starts screaming.
Considering what I was doing; "This better be important."

"Uh...um.. Cilla, ..log aboard in.....?"

"Two or maybe three hours..." I reply and off communications with my Captain.

I look at the Sweet Face I'd picked up in the bar. It is even better the second time.
But a guy ten years younger than me means I'm the older woman, and I'm too
young to be an older woman.

I left the hotel, a robotaxi to the Pier. I didn't change my dress, Donnie should
know what he was missing, and what I was sacrificing by answering his damn hail.

The crew was there, so I realised it was important.

Donnie half sat on a rail and told us we would be transferring to the Invictus.

The Invictus?

For the first twenty seconds, dead silence...then sounds, before falling back into
shock; for there was no ship superior to the Invictus. ...I would pilot that?

This was the only possible summons better than what I'd been doing.

Donnie onned the com, displayed the shiny lanes we'd be flying. I'd never been
near Sagir Space, didn't know how many planets in its system. That's how out
Sagir was. This wasn't the time, in fact there would never be a time, to mention Gye.

Frank, Fool King, would. Donnie got reluctant.
Why, how, doesn't matter. Donnie had liked the bastard and pass.

Shelly, an ass, but a lovable one, changed the topic. In a few seconds we
were back enjoying what was left of our leave, knowing when we left Cyberus,
it would be on a ship that made the Presidium a bathtub.

I wanted to brag and slap my breast saying, "I'm the pilot of the Invictus!"
but at times of greatest boast, all you got is a sleepy eyed barman, or the
drunk beside you.


Thinking about it

I went up to my room, slept a good nine, then to the beach, feeling disconnected.
I hunted Frank Guthrie, who I didn't like on general principles. He claimed to be
watching football. I kicked heels two hours until he sauntered back to the Hotel
in with a shine on his stupid face like I wanted his bod.

He babbled about being hot and tired, needing to go up to his room.
These were lame 'lay me' lines when Granny was a girl.
I went up with him, into the room and as soon as the door opened I gave him
one double foot kick which shoved him into a table, from which he bounced
to the floor.


And What

"Don't mention Gye to the Captain, Asshole. Not Gye, not Sagir, nothing. You got that?"

"Hey, Cilla, who you think you pushing?" he says late.

"You, asshole. If you open that rectum you think is a mouth and say the name
Gye, I'll put my boot up your butt...you got that, Asshole?"
And I was through the door.

Not wanting to be on the same Planet as Frank, I logged aboard the Pres and
researched the 'Vic and Sagir space. As First Officer, my cabin matched hotel.
But the seat I'd occupy on the Bridge which was the real beauty.

Pilot of the Invictus, the primest warboat in the galaxy.

Sagir lanes would need pious mapping.
I progged a Simmie to give me the feel.
Not that a Simmie could give me what I wanted, but enough to mox a few guide stars.

Our first ride would be an easy from Cyberus to Smudge, we'd log a bag of
civvies then into unknown Space, motherducking a Milelong loading on Savorn.

No one sends Milelongs except Hawking, and usually, to and from Earth.

Where would the Sags get the coin to buy the quantity that a Milelong held?

And what would they fill it with?

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