Space Relations Pt. 04

"Oh, I'm sure Cocksander does his best to cover up all the shit Braxton sends his way, just as Braxton does here when Cocksander tries to put her in her place."

"If there's one thing I hate, it's when politics get in the way of getting things done."

Crumly nodded. "If I were you, I'd tread very carefully around Braxton. If she doesn't find anything on you that she can use to humiliate Cocksander, I wouldn't be surprised if she made something up."

"Thank you for telling me this, Crumly." Washington patted the older man's shoulder. "I just hope my crew behave themselves respectably."

"Don't mention it, sir." Crumly said. "I think you're got a pretty good bunch there. I'd love to be part of a jolly crew like that."

"Yeah, it's a real good bunch." Washington replied, although he didn't really believe it. In one way or another, they were all screw-ups like he was, otherwise the Space Corps administrative division wouldn't have recommended them. He sighed. His command and his starship were as good as gone, if Braxton decided to make a fuss over him or his crew's antics.

The electric cart kept humming along, threading through corridor after corridor. Washington noted the signs announcing the beginning of the administrative area. A couple of minutes later, Crumly pulled into a road shoulder where half a dozen parking stalls had been lined out. Two other carts were present. As Crumly parked, the lieutenant could see that the other drivers were smoking nicotine-free cigarettes.

Crumly greeted his peers.

"Hey, Crum, is it true that you had a blonde bombshell sitting on your lap?" One of the other drivers asked.

"Yes, I did!" Crumly exclaimed, fishing out his phone. "I got her picture, too! Let me just take the lieutenant here to the elevators, and I'll come back and show you guys." He turned back. "Follow me, sir."

The elevator lobby turned out to be just around the corner, Washington soon discovered.

Crumly took a moment to bring up the picture. He held it up so the lieutenant could see it. In it, Mary was making duck lips. "That woman is something else."

Washington grinned, and this time it was a genuine grin. "That she is."

"Well, anyway." Crumly pointed. "These are the elevators. You want to take them up to Executive Level Six. Once you step out, there should be a receptionist around to direct you to Braxton's office. With the game going on and all, there is a chance the receptionist won't be there. You'll have to try poking your head into one of the offices for precise directions, but in a general sense, Braxton's office will be toward the far end of the loop. Her door has these huge letters spelling out her name, so you can't miss it. I'd go up there and take you to the exact door, but Braxton has restricted lower class monkeys like me from walking around on her level."

"Thank you, Crumly." Washington said. "Will you be waiting here when I get back?"

Crumly shrugged. "Probably not. Since the game is about to start, I'll probably be called to shuttle people all around the stadium. There will be at least one driver here, though, at your disposal."

"Well, thanks again." Washington tried to bump knuckles with the man, but eventually had to explain the concept until Crumly got it right. He pressed the elevator's call button a second later, and had to smile as Crumly excitedly excused himself to go and show Mary's picture to the other drivers.

The ride up was uneventful. When Washington exited, he did in fact come face to façade with a classy receptionist's desk. He frowned when he noticed that it was unmanned. The room was a funnel to the rest of the floor, the lieutenant realized, as he started walking around the desk and into the passage behind it. He frowned once again, when he saw the single passage break off in three different directions. Washington started wondering if he should choose a direction at random when he heard a people laughing nearby.

The door where the laughter had originated was ajar. After a moment's hesitation, Washington stepped over and rapped his knuckles on it. The door opened by several inches when he did this. His eyes took in a nicely decorated conference room, whose large oval table held several bowls of chips, dips and pretzel mixes, as well as various sandwiches wrapped in paper towels. Around the table sat no less than eight Space Corp executive officers, he could tell by their patches. Of these, a full seven were male, and a full eight of them were white. The lone female was the only one to get up to greet him.

"Oh, hi! You must be Lieutenant Washington." The woman strode over, showing off a pretty smile. She reached out to shake his hand. "We were expecting you a little earlier."

"We were held up by traffic." Washington explained. "Must be a pretty big game."

"Oh, you're not kidding." The woman said. "I'm Barbara, but the people here in the office just call me Barbie. I don't get it, because I'm a brunette and not a blonde, but I'd rather have them call me Barbie than something worse. Right?"

"Right." Washington chuckled. "May I ask what your position is here on the ship?"

"Supply logistics." Barbie answered. "I move stuff around from where we have too much to where we have too little, and I order out when we're running low."

"Is that a demanding job?"

"It can be at times." Barbie said. "But it can be fun, too."

Several of the men started booing at once, prompting both Barbie and Washington to turn and see why. He hadn't noticed a large Magna-Vision screen mounted on a wall, partially concealed behind the door.

Barbie watched the screen for a few moments. "They're watching the highlights from the last game, when the Strider's handed us our butts."

"Oh, I'm sorry to keep you from the game." Washington said. "Could you please point me toward Commander Braxton's office and I'll get out of your hair?"

"I'm not a big football fan." Barbie admitted. "As for Braxton's office, I'll take you there myself. Follow me."

Full of purpose, the woman brushed past him and started down the corridor. Her pace was quick enough that the taller lieutenant had to increase his stride to keep up.

As they walked, Washington tried to keep his eyes focused straight ahead, but he frequently found them wandering to Barbie's frame. She was a little on the chubby side, he thought, probably from sitting around most of the time while she worked. Still, she was pleasing to look at. Her hair was a simple bob, ending at the collar. Her waist could have been a little narrower, but Washington didn't mind a woman with a little meat on her bones. What made the strongest impression on the lieutenant were Barbie's buttocks, which were big and round, and swayed in a very delicious way.

The two continued deeper into the executive area, making one final turn before they ended up in a short corridor with three closed doors. The door on the end had the words COMMANDER BRAXTON spelled out in a large, military stencil.

"Here we are." Barbie strode right up to the door and placed her hand on the knob. She didn't turn it right away, however, as instead she looked toward the lieutenant. "I should have told you earlier that I'm part reader. I've been reading your thoughts for the last four minutes."

Washington gulped. "I am so sorry."

Barbie shrugged. "You shouldn't be. I know I should be hitting the gym a little more than I have been lately." She turned the knob and opened the door enough to poke her head inside. "Commander Braxton, I have Lieutenant Washington here to see you."

The voice that answered was both cold and imperious. And perhaps a little bit evil, as well.

"Send him in."

Barbie motioned him inside.

"Thank you." Washington nodded, as he took his cue and entered the room.

As the door closed behind him, the lieutenant took a moment to scan through the lavishly appointed office. There was a bookshelf, full of what looked like legal books and ancient philosophical classics. There were two stands whose tops were covered with little glass domes. One of these showcased what seemed to be a fragment of a meteor, while the other exhibited an ancient glove from one of the earliest space missions. In the center of the office, and rather obtrusively, sat a great desk with a sinister black top and dark gray edges. It had a slight contour to it, giving the lieutenant the impression that it was a short wave of death.

There were three black, egg-shaped chairs in the office, the one behind the desk, and two before it. Braxton was at her desk, her features slightly clouded by two extremely bright fluorescent pillar lights set close behind her. A lean, gaunt looking man occupied a second chair. For some reason, this man's features reminded Washington of a vulture.

The lieutenant waited for an invitation to take the last chair, but none ever came.

"Lieutenant Washington, is it?" Braxton asked. The skin of her face was tightly stretched over her cheekbones and chin. Her brows and eyes were permanently set in a stern expression.

"Yes." Washington said, simply. He had the distinct impression that he was about to get reamed.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Sessler." Braxton motioned.

"Hello." Washington nodded.

Sessler held a remote control in his hand, he noticed.

"We have something we'd like you to see." Braxton said. "Right behind you."

Washington turned, noting a panel of three large screens set into the wall. They all showed black faces at first, but one soon flickered to life. It showed a clip of Mary, sitting on Crumly's lap as the electric cart that carried them wove it's way through the Neptune's dock. The second screen lit up, and on it was the single image of Cruz sitting in the driver's seat. As the last screen came to life, Washington grimaced. It showed Cummings and Margo flipping off the dock personnel, and came to a stop when Cummings pointed his butt out of the cart.

"Explain the actions of your crew, lieutenant." Braxton demanded.

Washington turned back. "Well, we've all been cooped in the starship for a few days, and some members of the crew decided to cut loose a little. There was no harm done."

"You would think," Braxton stated. "That a commander on his maiden voyage would have his personnel a little better disciplined. Your people didn't make it from the door of your little ship to the end of the dock before they made a mockery of everything that Space Corps stands for. Have you failed to understand what an honor it is to serve in Space Corps?"

"No, I have not." Washington answered, firmly.

"But yet you have your crew running around like undisciplined schoolchildren." Braxton rebutted. "I've half a mind to throw you off my ship this very instant."

Sessler chuckled. It was the kind of chuckle that made a man like Washington want to shove his fist down the man's throat.

"Would you like to know why I'm not throwing you off?" Braxton asked.

Washington stiffened up, as he had plenty of ammunition to lash out with, had he been standing before an academy instructor for example. The bad thing was that Braxton could take away his post on a whim and have him sent back to Earth as a civilian. His career would be over, just like that. He decided to remain silent.

"The reason I'm keeping you on board is this." Braxton revealed. "I am keeping my cameras on every single member of your crew that has set foot on my ship. I will be recording every thing they do. I will be preparing a full report of my observations and findings, that I will forward to Admiral Cocksander the moment your little tin can departs from the Neptune."

"We'll be watching you and your people very closely, lieutenant." Sessler added, as if to rub salt on his wounds.

Washington found that he hated both of them, very, very much.

"That will be all." Braxton callously waved him away, epitomizing the queen bitch persona he'd imagined earlier.

The door slid open, slightly.

"Commander?" It was Barbie's much sweeter sounding voice.

"Yes?"

"You asked to be informed when the last member of the Space Relations left the ship. He's waiting by the dock officer's booth right now."

"Thank you." Braxton said. "Please close the door, Barbie. Lieutenant, you will be staying for one moment longer."

"Yes, Commander." Washington said, begrudgingly.

Once Barbie had gone, the cold woman once again set her scrutiny on Washington. "Let us see what your last crew member is up to, shall we?"

They both turned, as Sessler punched up another image. The first screen soon showed Brukenfooken, wearing a yellow sweatband around his head, and a matching jogging suit. He looked sweaty and slightly out of breath.

"Another buffoon." Braxton said. "This one was too dumb to catch a cart and had to run his way across my dock." The cruel woman pushed a few buttons on her intercom. A moment later, the dock coordinator's voice answered. The commander spoke to him tersely. "Mulligan, have somebody drive that big lout to wherever the others are." She rolled her eyes and cut off the connection a moment later.

Sessler made that atrocious laugh again. "What an imbecile!"

The anger flared up in Washington's face. Cruz, Mary, and the other culpable parties he could understand. For Braxton and Sessler to berate his combat technician, however, when the strong man hadn't done anything wrong yet, was unacceptable. As he turned back toward the commander, his jaw quivered with barely reigned contempt.

"Struck a tender spot, have we?" Sessler chuckled. He pointed out both of his index fingers and bumped them together, to imply that Washington might have some sort of relationship with his combat tech. "Does this look familiar?"

Washington said the first thing that came to mind. "I have lain on that man's bunk, on occasion."

Sessler's eyes widened. For once he seemed at a loss for words, before he glanced over to Braxton.

"Get out of my sight, lieutenant." The woman said. "We will be watching you."