Space Relations Pt. 12

Captain Washington opened up his eyes and cast a casual glance at the cycle timer sitting next to his bunk. Time didn't matter much out in space, doubly so since they had such a small crew and not a lot of duties to get done. The only reason he looked at the timer at all was because he wanted to make sure he was getting between seven and eight hours of sleep. Also, he wanted to have a good chance of having someone to talk to once he left his bunk. What good would it do if he went out there and everybody else was still asleep?

Roughly, the black man estimated it to be between eight and nine in the morning, Earth equivalent time. Once he sat up, he quietly swung his long legs out and got to his feet. He snuck a peek at Barbie's soft and sexy back and derriere, before he gently covered her with a soft sheet and wrapped a towel around his middle.

Washington stepped out and took the short walk over to the lavatories. It was a very short jaunt because they were located right next to his bunk. Noting that the opaque door of the humidifier was steamed up, he politely knocked first.

"Yo." Cummings replied from within.

"It's the captain. You almost done?"

"Yuppers. You can come in if you want to."

The steam compartment could fit two people of average size comfortably, and three in a pinch. Also, since the shower facilities at Space Corps had accustomed personnel to crowd in together in preparation for space duty, Washington didn't mind showering with another man. He set his towel on the metal bar by the drying and dressing area, and entered the tube a moment later.

"How's it going, Cummings?"

"Oh, excellent, captain." The big man passed over a bar of soap. "We have to be the most over-sexed ship in the galaxy."

Washington laughed. "You might be right about that."

"How many times did you bang Barbie yesterday?"

That was a rather terse way to put things, the black man thought. "I made love to Barbie three times. Once on the bridge, and twice more in the bunk."

"That poor woman." Cummings shook his head. "I don't see how she can handle that big wanger you've got. If I was a woman, I'm pretty sure I'd run away from you the moment you pulled down your zipper. You can probably rope cattle with that lariat."

"Cummings, it is not that big."

"That's not what Willow said."

Washington decided to change the subject. "Well, what about yourself? How many times did you score?"

"Just once with Margo." The navigator replied. "After you and cuddle-bumps retired, Mary started going around the ship giving random blowjobs, so if you count that, it was one and a half times."

Washington couldn't help but chuckle. "Random blowjobs. Never in a million years would I have imagined something like that, back when I was at the Academy and fighting for my own ship."

"Don't complain too much, captain." Cummings stated. "You could have gotten a much worse assignment than this one. Space Corps could have assigned you to build useless military bases on uninhabited planets for one, or maybe to transport soldiers out to one of those bug planets that pop up every once in a while."

"You're right, Cummings. And when you're right, you're right."

Out of professional courtesy, Cummings waited for the captain outside. Once they were both dressed and had inspected each other's uniforms, the two men descended the ladder leading into the dining room.

Margo was the only person there, wearing a white muscle shirt that curved over her basketball-sized boobs, dog tags, olive green soldier's pants, and combat boots. That was one of her typical modes of dress, both men knew.

"Good morning, Margo." Washington greeted her.

"Morning, Cappy."

Cummings gave the captain a sly look and whispered. "Watch this."

The hefty navigator strutted over next to Margo, who was peeling potatoes. He sidled up next to her, and brazenly put his hand on her beefy buttocks. Margo said nothing, but her gaze at Cummings was less than friendly. Cummings smiled wickedly, nodded his head, and keeping his hand on Margo's large butt.

Washington could only describe what happened next as a flurry of motion. Potatoes were bouncing around everywhere. Cummings was flailing his arms out wildly, and Margo had him doubled over in a headlock. The cook viciously rubbed her hard knuckles against the top of his head.

"I give! I give!" The man was crying out, until Margo finally released him.

"Thanks for volunteering." Margo growled at him. "Pick up those potatoes and wash them off. Start cutting them into wedges."

"Aw, do I have to?"

"If you want to eat breakfast, you do." Margo went back to her task. "Cappy, you want coffee this morning?"

"Yes, please, Margo." Washington nodded, reminding himself not to ever touch Margo's butt without permission. "Can you tell me if anyone else is up?"

"The mighty Thor is piloting the ship. I think I saw Braxton heading over to the lounge a little while ago."

"I hope she's in better spirits than she was yesterday." Washington thought out loud.

"Hard to tell, Cappy." Margo replied. "She didn't say much to me."

"Well, I'll go and see how she's doing." Washington decided, taking the short trek across the corridor.

When the captain stepped into the lounge, he was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. There was a woman standing there with her back to him. She was leaning over a side table, beating its top with a feather duster. The woman was dressed in the shockingly skimpy outfit of a French maid. The tiny dress laced up the back, had a bateau neckline, a white tie-back apron, and was adorned with frilly white lacing on all the edges.

What was worse is that whoever was wearing that outfit looked damned good and sexy in it. The woman had nice, toned legs, a trim waist, and a shapely rear end. He'd almost assumed that he was looking at Willow, until he took a few steps forward and got a glimpse of pepper-colored hair.

"Excuse me." Washington called out.

Upon hearing the man's voice, Ensign Braxton turned and stood at attention, with her feather duster upright in her hand. "Good morning, captain."

Washington gulped, as Braxton looked even better from this angle. The older woman's hair was fluffed up and held back by a white bow and ribbon. Her face had light make-up on it that accented her features like a model. She was showing off an ample cleavage that the captain didn't think she even possessed.

The shock in Washington's face was quickly replaced by anger. "This is going to stop, right this minute! I cannot believe that Cruz and Mary forced you to put on that outfit. I am truly sorry that they've embarrassed you like this. I promise you that I will discipline them both! Please accept my apologies, Commander Braxton. I am so sorry."

"Permission to speak, captain."

Washington had gotten so accustomed to having his crew speak freely, that it took him a long second to remember proper protocol. "Permission granted, commander."

"Nobody forced me to put this on." Braxton explained. "Mary seems to have acquired quite a few costumes from the Starship Neptune. I was flipping through her collection and I picked this one out for myself. Mary thought this was a great idea. Her reasoning was that if I was forced to serve in a subservient position, I might as well have some fun with it. To tell you the truth, I haven't felt this sexy in ages."

Washington didn't think he'd heard her correctly. "You mean you're okay with what you're wearing now?"

Braxton nodded. "I am delighted with it. And you shouldn't call me Commander Braxton any more. I'm just an ensign now, remember?"

He stared at her, his brain refusing to process what his eyes were looking at.

"You can close your mouth now, captain." Braxton went back to her dusting, but clearly, she was pleased by Washington's reaction.

"Holy Machiavelli!" Cummings' voice cried out from the lounge door. "Is that who I think it is? Oh, doctor!" The big man ran away, only to return a moment later with a holo-camera. "I've got to have a picture, captain, I think I just found cougar heaven!"

Washington didn't realize that Cummings was pushing the camera at him, until the navigator started jabbing him in the ribs with it. Once he had it in his hand, Cummings hurried over and asked Braxton to pose with him.

Since the stern woman wasn't used to smiling, or even grinning much, she simply took up an official stance. Braxton held her chin up slightly, while Cummings placed his arm around her shoulders. Washington was surprised when Braxton didn't rip the navigator's arm off and start beating him over the head with it. He took the shot.

Cummings started away, doing a happy dance. "I've got a picture with Braxton, I've got a picture with Braxton!"

Braxton reached out and slapped him on the ass.

"Watch out, captain!" Cummings ran away from her. "She's a feisty one!"

The portly navigator snatched the camera out of Washington's hands and rushed out of the lounge, with the probable intention of waking everybody up.

Back on the Neptune, Washington had felt a very real hate for this woman, for how she'd spoken about his crew, and for how she'd tormented pretty much everyone on board that ship. The captain wanted to hate her now for all of that, but he found that he couldn't. Instead, he voiced, "You've made quite an adjustment of yourself."

"I suppose Admiral Cocksander had a point, when he sent me out here to rehab with your crew." Braxton admitted. "If there was ever a good time and a good place to make a fresh start, this is probably it." Her gaze suddenly faltered, and her duster started flitting about nervously. "There's one thing I need to get out into the open. You might find yourself hating me for even saying this. I have acted unfairly towards people of your color and to other people of color. I've kept them from acquiring positions they were well qualified for. I've even fired them for stupid reasons, when I've kept people of my own ilk at their posts who had committed the very same infractions."

Washington's face tightened. He'd suspected such prejudice had been prevalent on the Neptune, and mainly thanks to Braxton. Actually hearing her voice the words was enough to stir up his fury. Too many times, he had seen minorities such as himself stepped on and stepped over. Grimly, he said, "Carry on, ensign."

"Yes, captain." Braxton went back to dusting furniture, as Washington spun on his heels and basically trudged out of the lounge.

Washington was angry enough to hit something, and the stress bag he'd just left behind in a corner of the lounge. He didn't want to head over to the bridge or into the dining room either, because he'd run into a member of his crew at either end. Short of jumping out of the main hatch and into space, there wasn't anywhere else left for him to go.

"Captain?"

He turned around, becoming aware of Mary's presence only when he laid eyes on her. His cheek twitched.

"Don't say a thing." Mary said, motioning for him to give her his hand. Once she had it, she started pulling him away. "Just come with me."

Mary led him through dining room, where she warded off the stares and questions with a simple wave of her hand. Next, the science officer motioned him up to the bunks. Washington went along, mostly because Mary was giving him the excuse not to talk to any of the others. Shortly after, Mary walked him into her bunk, where Cruz was standing in his briefs and checking his teeth in the mirror.

"Hey, captain." Cruz nodded, then threatened, "Get out of my bunk, good sir. You have no god-given right to be standing here within my private sanctum. No, actually I'm just kidding. What's going on?"

"The captain needs a massage." Mary said.

"Right now?" Cruz asked. "Well, I suppose I can squeeze him in before breakfast, but if it's a hand-job I'm not doing it. That's more in your arena, Mary."

The pretty blonde started thinking at him, Washington noticed. Just the idea that they were talking about him while he was standing there, when he had no idea of what they were saying to each other, almost made him storm out.

"Oh." Cruz nodded, to some unheard comment. "I'll take care of it, Mary."

Mary slipped out of the bunk, before Cruz clapped his hands together.

"Well," The officer stated. "First thing's first. I've got to put some clothes on and you've got to take some off. We're basically going to become mirror images here because I want you to lie down on that bunk only in your underwear. I'll put on some sweats and then we can get started. Mary will be back in a moment with your coffee, because I guess Margo was just in the process of making some."

Resignedly, Washington stripped down. Once Cruz tossed a clean sheet over the bed, the black man stretched his long body out over it. Cruz pulled a portable stool from the wall and set it up at the end of the bunk. The ensign started massaging the captain's feet.

"Tell me what ails you, mein kapitan."

Washington sighed. "This isn't going to work."

"Well, it won't if you're going to be stubborn about it." Cruz replied. He started tickling the size twelve feet.

Washington pulled his feet away. "What kind of a massage is that?"

"No kind, I was just trying to gauge your mood." Cruz answered. "If you don't mind, would you please stretch your legs back out. I can see your balls sneaking out from the side of your boxers this way. It's a rather disconcerting sight."

Although he tried not to, Washington started laughing.

"I wasn't joking about that." Cruz said, and this made things even funnier for the captain. "Anyway, let's hear it. What seems to be the problem?"

"Didn't Mary tell you?"

"She did. But it's better for you if you tell me yourself."

"Braxton is a racist bitch." Washington admitted.

"You're right, she is." Cruz agreed. "Mary picked up on that last night. Braxton doesn't much mind bronze skin like mine, but she does have a sort of abhorrence for people born with slanted eyes or with darker complexions. Not just Asians and blacks, mind you, but people from India and the Middle East as well."

"Don't you have a problem with that?"

"Of course I do." Cruz went back to massaging the feet.

Mary stepped back in with an indented tray and four cups of hot beverages. She held the little tray out to Cruz and said, "Take your cup out."

"Which one is mine?"

"The one with a big C on the side of it, you goof."

"I suspected as much." Cruz nodded. "Thank you for getting these. I'd give you a squeeze on the bum, except I've got the captain's foot fungus all over my fingers."

Mary started giggling as she held out the tray for Washington. "Can you guess which cup is yours?"

Washington sat up and took the cup with the W.

Barbie came in next. Both her and Mary pulled out seats from the wall.

"I was just about to inform the captain of how we asked Braxton to tell him about her racial prejudice." Cruz told the two women.

"Wait, you two told Braxton to tell me that?" Washington squawked. "You put her up to telling a black man that she hates black people? I can't believe you guys did that!"

"Well, you can't make a clean break from your past if you've got it trailing around behind you everywhere you go." Cruz answered. "That's where the real healing begins."

"I think she's sincere." Mary said. "You can ask Barbie to read her if you'd like a second opinion."

Washington glanced at his lover.

"I just saw what that woman was wearing." Barbie looked astounded. "You have to remember that I was working under her command for a couple of years before she fired me. Braxton didn't just turn over a new leaf, she turned over an entire orchard."

"So, all of you think I should just forgive her?" The captain asked. "You think that I can just wipe away something like that in a heartbeat?"

"Of course not." Mary frowned at him. "But what you can do is communicate with her. Talk to her, be open with her."

"Why should I?" Washington frowned. "That woman hasn't done anything good for me, or for anybody else for that matter. All of you remember what she tried to do to us back on the Neptune."

Mary glanced over at Cruz.

"What is it?" Washington asked.

Cruz looked reluctant to say anything. "Well, it falls under the practitioner and client privilege."

"Oh, just tell him." Mary implored.

Cruz sighed. "After we got Braxton to loosen up, after we messed around with her, she started crying. She told us all sorts of things; how she hurt people, how she demoted them and fired them, how she screwed them out of promotions and the like. She cried for hours. Braxton broke herself down in a way she probably never has to anyone before."

"That woman doesn't have any friends, captain." Mary added. "Braxton only had that Sessler person who was sucking up to her. She knows that nobody on the Neptune liked her, and she hadn't even had a man hold her hand in like five years. We're not saying that you should forgive and forget everything that she's done, but we are saying that everybody deserves a second chance. It would go a long way if you, the captain, reached out a helping hand to her. Braxton was the top person on her ship and you're the top person on this one."

"What do you think about all this, Barbie?"

"Like I said, I've never seen her dressed like that before."

"That's the second time you've mentioned her clothes." Cruz said, right before he took a sip of his tea. "What does she have on this morning?"

"My French maid costume." Mary revealed. "She woke me up early this morning, just to ask me if she could put it on."

Cruz spat tea onto the captain's feet, before he rolled off his stool laughing.

"Thank you so much for that." Washington complained. He turned to the two women. "Can either of you honestly say that you'd forgive Braxton, after knowing what she was like less than a week ago."

Mary nodded. "I would, but I'm just nicer than most people."

On the other hand, Barbie shrugged. "I'd keep a close eye on her. After the things I've seen her do, I can't really say I would ever trust her."

Cruz climbed back onto his stool, his face red from laughter and his cup held out tentatively. "I've got to go down there and take a look at her, as soon as I can. But on a serious note, you're asking the wrong people about how you should deal with Braxton. You see, we're all below her station in her eyes. I'm certain she still sees herself as an authority figure."

"She does." Mary nodded.

"So it stands to reason, that she needs the approval and confidence of an authority figure in order to feel as if she's heading in the right direction. Mary's very right about that part."

"What are you saying?" Washington asked.

"Well," Cruz looked a little squeamish. "You may have to trust her with a few responsibilities, just to boost her confidence."

"Braxton ran an entire starship before." Mary said. "And I just saw her downstairs sweeping the lounge with a duster."

"She's pathetic, isn't she?" Barbie asked.

"We don't want her to feel that way." Mary countered. "We want her to feel special, because she hasn't felt that way before in a very long time. She's one of us now."

Washington sighed. "I'll take everything you've said under advisement. Thank you, all of you."

He stretched out his fist, knuckles out. Cruz and Mary, both of whom knew what that meant, bumped knuckles with him.

Washington looked to Barbie. "Come on, you too. Everybody in my crew does it."

"What? Like this?" She copied the other's actions, hesitatingly.

"That's right. I guess I'd better go wash this tea off my feet now, and get back to my post to do some serious thinking."

"It looks like all this space debris is thinning out." Navigator Cummings studied his screen. "I guess it's safe to say that we're leaving the Kuiper Belt behind."

"You've done a commendable job of navigating." Washington praised the ensign. "And we are on steady course for Proxima Centauri?"