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Adventures of the SPEW Gryphon III: The Epsilon Contingency



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Sat Feb 05, 2011 12:31 am
Griffinkeeper says...



Prompt: Set in the YWS Science Fiction Universe. A young Jr. Mod (Lumi) is paired with Griffinkeeper so that he can start his apprenticeship. On board Grif's spaceship, they embark on a simple trade mission to Epsilon Prime. But nothing is ever simple when it comes to YWS, spaceships, and moderators.
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Sat Feb 05, 2011 2:11 am
Lumi says...



“You should take the new boots they gave you at your coronation.” Jagged sat in the corner, feet kicked up on the table, spinning a keychain on her middle finger that simply read the word DELISHUS. Lumi turned to her and dropped a flat stare into her grey-but-not-too-dark-to-read-with-a-black-background eyes, just waiting for some punch line.

“But they’re JM Green, and the uniform for trainees wouldn’t match at al—“

“—I said, take the green boots.” Jagged snerked and shoved her face into a Holmes novel.

“Fine, I’ll take the boots.” Lumi grabbed them up off the floor and took a curious look at the shoes, eyeing the freakish color. “What’d they do to these, anyway? Drop ‘em in Neon?”

“Mmmh, chemical boots.” Jagged droned off with the distinct tone of drool on her voice.

Lumi sat down on the sofa beside her, staring at the pile of clothes stacked on his bed in the next room. “How am I gonna fit all that in my duffel bag?”

Jag looked up from her book and shifted her gaze between the stack of clothes and Lumi. The stack of clothes, Lumi. Without missing a beat, together, they said, “Haiku.”

Mere moments later, the two stood over the stack of clothes with looks of deadly seriousness. The two balled their fists and readied their assault on the clothes.

Lumi began, “Haiku! Take these clothes!”

Jagged continued, “Compress them with your magic!”

“Like leaves in the fall!” Together, they slammed their fists down on the pile of clothes, which shrunk at least half its size in mere seconds. Wiping sweat from his brow, Lumi sat down and began folding them.

“So why are you taking all of these clothes with you if they give you a uniform, anyway?”

Lumi stared blankly at the white shirt in his hands, not saying a word.

_____

“I really hope I got someone good,” Lumi murmured, his hands nervously smoothing out an already-smooth manila folder. Inside was his assignment. His mentor. “I hear that Persy got Demeter as her partner.”

Vulcan smirked and swung a pickaxe at the wall, making it break down into three tiny cubes of white material. “Yeah, yeah. Know who I got?”

“Who?”

“The ultimate supreme awesome above all other objects worthy of awesome praise.”

Lumi’s eyes widened. “Nate was your partner?” Vulcan turned and laughed, shaking his head.

“Jabber.”

Octave drifted through the doorway and sat down at the table with a cup of Ramen in her hands. “Who’d you get, Lumies?”

Lumi bit his bottom lip, shaking his head. “Not sure yet. I’m…getting there.” He nervously fumbled with the golden latch on the folder, anxious of its contents. “I mean, what if they decided not to give me a partner? What if I have to do this alone?”

“They wouldn’t magically erase a huge chunk of your schedule for nothing, Loser.” Vulcan began pickaxing the floor.

Lumi nodded. “Right.” The young greenie slowly lifted the latch on the folder, closing his eyes. With a gasp, he lost his breath as it suddenly left his hands via fishing line-and-hook. A round of chortles echoed from upstairs. Lumi shot a glare up at the air vent where his assignment was being drawn away and snarled. “Give it back, Nutty!” With fists clenched, he ran for the stairs, bounding up two at a time. When he reached the main floor, no one was to be found except for a seemingly sleeping Insomnia.

Lumi knelt down and poked him in the ribcage. He didn’t stir in the least. An echo of footprints rang out over the flat, and Lumi ran back to the stairs, heading for the top floor—the roof.

As Lumi opened the door to the rooftop, his eyes widened in shock. A mob of his friends were gathered on the rooftop with Nutty in the center of them with a megaphone; and in her hands was the folder.

Oh jeez.

This certainly wasn’t how Lumi expected to find out his assignment. What if it was supposed to be a secret? What if Nate kicked him from the squad just for this incident?

Oh jeez.

Lumi dashed forward, hands outstretched until he got to Nutty. A round of hugs and pats on the back (and spitballs from an unknown source) bombarded him before he could reach her. And just as he reached out for the folder, Nutty yelled out—loud enough for the entire Chat Room to hear—Griffinkeeper!

Oh jeez.

He felt like Harry Potter after being sorted. He was in the house of Griffinkeeper, which meant his training would take place in space. Not in the jungle with Nate; not in the Larvitar farm with JabberHut, but in Space.

SPEW.

Lumi facepalmed.

______

“Pros and cons,” Octave said.

“Pro: he apparently knows what he’s doing and has been doing it a long time.”

“Con:” said Vulcan, “He’s supposedly an alien who eats JM brains for every third dinner, only to regurgitate them and re-implant the information into his own mind.”

“Is that how they named SPEW?”

“Nah, I heard that someone just threw up on the ‘Name-a-Club” document, and they were too lazy to fill a new one out.”

“Fun.” Lumi sighed. “Now, how do I get ready to go to space?”

“Practice holding your breath?” Vulcan kicked back on the couch, turning on Community.

“I have less than twenty-four hours before I start training, guys.”

“Under Griff.”

“Under Griff.”

Jag looked up from her LJ fic. “I wonder what you’ll actually be doing in space.”

Lumi gulped, imagining the worst. “I’ll probably be shoveling Space Griffin poop.”

“Writing impossible prompts.”

“Banning space deviants.”

Lumi’s green eyes widened as he read the next line of the assignment.

”No poetry is allowed in space.”

The room grew eerily silent. It was obvious to all of them how much free-verse poetry meant to Lumi. It was also a known fact that it was basically all he reviewed on the mainland of YWS. But if poetry was taken away from him, replaced by rambling scrolls of tech-savvy prose…

Lumi paled. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Jagged fetched the bucket.

_____

“It’s okay,” Jagged soothed, waving a fan embroidered with the Golden Sun emblem over Lumi’s face. “Think good thoughts. Purple thoughts.”

Lumi groaned, filled with complete anxiety. “Life without poetry.”

“No!” Jag thwacked him with the fan, scowling. “Life with very beautiful, excessive hybrid prose!”

Lumi buried his head in his pillows, forcing out a scream-groan. Muffled, he yelled, “Nex thin y’knw, hll hv m’ fghtn’ alns.”

Jag grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up from his marshmallowy prison. “What was that, love? I don’t speak pillow woe.”

“Next thing you know, he’ll have me blindfolded with a bomb-apple in my teeth, fighting aliens with play dough chopsticks.”

Jag just stared ahead for a moment.

“You’re thinking of an impossible prompt right now, aren’t you…”

_____

Lumi hardly slept that night. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d slept at all, but he awaited the morning with more anxiety than ever, hoping for the best out of his Griffin partner. He compared the experience to a college roommate. A college roommate who would shape his modhood into what it would be. Every thought was laced with hopes of contraband free verse and care packages shipped from home filled with delishus. The poor JM rolled over in bed and considered calling in sick. What could excuse mod training?

Sorry, Nate, but I have carpal tunnel in my banning wrist.

My deepest apologies, Meshugenah, but I seem to be under the weather. Looking a bit green today.

Lumi groaned and covered his head with a pillow. Come this time tomorrow, he would be at the mercy of a Space Captain.

Oh jeez.
Last edited by Lumi on Sat Feb 05, 2011 2:34 am, edited 1 time in total.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Sat Feb 05, 2011 2:22 am
Griffinkeeper says...



The SPEW Gryphon III moved silently through space as it began its docking procedures. Inside the ship, all was quiet, save for the humming of the engines and the sound of "The Blue Danube Waltz." The former could be heard throughout the entire ship, but the latter emanated from the bridge. The Gryphon almost seemed to waltz itself into position; as thrusters all over the ship performed in concert to maneuver the Gryphon towards it's dock.

Responsible for this was Adelaide; the Gryphon's shipboard AI. The procedure took a lot of concentration; not because of any difficulty in computation, but because the margin of error was so small. So, while she moved the ship closer to dock; she was tracking all of the sensors simultaneously for the slightest indication that the Gryphon was moving off course. Of course; YWS had safeguards to protect itself if a collision was to occur. For Adelaide though, she took immense pride in docking a ship like the Gryphon perfectly, each time. She was a perfectionist when it came to the mundane.

Nearby, Grif watched the monitors. On one of the monitors was a short message from Nate. "Return for consultations." was all Nate said. Normally Nate let him run around the Galaxy, so when he did call him back, Grif knew it was important. Another mission! It had been a while since he had had a proper mission. Nate wouldn't mention what the mission was; partly because Grif occasionally had trouble with receiving transmissions that he didn't agree with, and partly because you never knew if anyone else was listening.

Still, experience had taught him to prepare for the unexpected. So, as soon as they were in range; he had had Adelaide download the latest articles of news from YWS Station, so that he could educate himself on the latest events on YWS. There was plenty of news to be had. In the Gamma Centauri system, Alteran and the crew of the Highwind had been chasing down a group of pirates, perhaps Nate wanted the Gryphon to join Alteran there. Another piece of news was that the SPEW Peregrine had been dispatched to the Hermopolis V to deal with a killer asteroid. Perhaps the Gryphon was needed there. On planet Gerrard, thousands of space turtles had been coming in for an unexpected mating season, Grif hoped that he wasn't needed there. And so the list continued on down the monitor.

Eleven minutes later; the humming of the Gryphon's engines died down.

"How are we doing Adelaide?" Grif asked nervously.

"Docking procedures are complete. We're well within acceptable tolerances. Did you find out what your secret mission is about?" Adelaide replied.

"No," Grif said, turning off the monitors. "It's difficult to isolate our task among the many possibilities."

"Not if you have access to Admin level communications."

"You know what our mission is?" Grif exited the bridge and began to move through the ship to the airlock.

"Of course I know. Nate is good, but that just means it takes a little longer for me to find out; it doesn't prevent me from finding out."

"So, what's the mission?"

"Why spoil the surprise? Besides, you might let him buy you dinner. He's got a table reserved at 7:30 PM at the Captains Club. Level D."

"You sure he's not meeting someone else?"

"He had the invite sent to me personally; with instructions to make sure you were there on time," Adelaide said.

"He might have mentioned it to me."

"He said that he didn't want any, and I quote, 'communication glitches' unquote."

"There is a lot to be said for free food," Grif admitted thoughtfully.

"And a generous patron. You're lucky he didn't ban you for disobeying a direct order to stay away from Princess Mystis," Adelaide reminded him.

"For the record, she came on to me. I can't help it that she tried to marry me at gunpoint. Then, when I did escape, how was I suppose to know that she stowed away on the ship?" Grif smiled at the memory.

"The Mystophians only saw a moderator of YWS kidnapping her royal highness!"

"I brought her right back. Why does everyone forget that?"

"I believe they were too busy focusing on the three warships you damaged on the way back to Mystophia."

"That was some pretty good shooting you did by the way," Grif said.

"My point is that when everyone wanted your head, Nate stood by you. You owe him."

"Big time," Grif agreed. "What time is it anyway?"

"6:30 PM, you better hurry."

"Keep the engines hot; I want to get out of here as soon as I've got the mission," Grif said, before exiting the airlock and walking out towards the main station. The holographic form of Adelaide appeared briefly and smiled while he walked away, before flickering out of existence.

-------------

The Captains Club was legendary. Not many people on YWS had the ability to Captain their own ship; pleasure yachts was about the best most people could do. On each of the walls were pictures of ships which belonged to the various Captains. Among them were pictures of the SPEW Gryphon I & II. It was under these pictures that Nate waited for Grif. As Grif approached, he rose and shook his hand.

"Thanks for coming Grif," Nate said.

"My pleasure," Grif smiled. A serving robot appeared.

"Good evening Griffinkeeper, what can I get you?"

"The usual," Grif responded. The robot moved obediently off.

"Did you have a pleasant trip?" Nate asked conversationally.

"It was satisfactory. Tell me about the mission."

"I see you're anxious to get started. Very well. It's called Operation Big Brother..."

"Does that have to do with the Gamma Centauri situation? Because I can be there in twelve hours..."

"It has nothing to do with the Gamma Centauri situation. I got a message from Alteran that everything was under control. No, it's much more important than that."

"Then it must be about that killer asteroid heading towards Hermopolis V!"

"Jenna deflected it into their sun, everything is fine. It's much more important than that." Grif was quiet for a moment.

"It's about-" Nate said, before Grif cut him off.

"Don't tell me; it's about the space turtles mating on Gerrard." Nate gave him a strange look.

"There are space turtles mating on Gerrard? I've never seen a space turtle before; I'll have to check it out," Nate said. There was an awkward pause, which was mercifully broken when the robot returned with Grif's food. It was a peanut butter & jelly sandwich, with cheesy poofs, and chocolate milk. Grif began eating immediately and Nate seized the small window of silence.

"Grif, Operation Big Brother is a special interdisciplinary program designed to augment our moderator strength by capitalizing on the synergy of binary pairs of moderators, where upon one moderator can gain knowledge and experience from the other then apply it in a real world setting that that moderator may otherwise not be used to. Without your participation in this program, YWS would be in serious danger," Nate said. Grif thought about it for a moment.

"Oh," Grif said finally, "You want me to take on an apprentice."

"Not at all. I just want you to mentor one of the Jr. Moderators. Take him on one of your trips abroad. He could come in handy."

"You forget, I have Adelaide. She can take care of anything I need. He would just get in the way at a critical time."

"I haven't forgotten. Adelaide is more than capable of handling the ship while you train the JM. I understand you listen to music and read while she maps entire asteroid fields."

"How would you know that?"

"She's got a blog. It's quite popular."

"In that case, you should know that I often tell her how glad I am that she is aboard, since it means I don't have to worry about some neon green newbie getting shot or killed or having to otherwise rescue me. Even if I did need it, it would be humiliating!" Grif said, taking a large chunk out of a cheesy poof. Nate smiled, then leaned in close to whisper.

"Grif, do you remember the Princess Mystis incident?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember who showed that Princess Mystis was under the influence of a love potion."

"You did."

"Do you know which member did the test that confirmed it was a love potion?"

"No."

"His name is Lumi and he's your mentee. Do you remember what the Mystopians were going to do to you?"

"They were going to put me in the dungeon of 1,387,642 tortures," Grif said nervously.

"Do you have any idea of what I'm going to do to you if you say no?" Nate whispered menacingly. Grif backed away from Nate.

"Fine. But if I'm going to be mentoring Lumi, I'm going to do it my way."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Nate said pleasantly. Grif smiled just as pleasantly.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do," Grif said.

"Good luck Grif," Nate said. Grif smiled and waved good bye. He then picked activated his comm.

"Adelaide?"

"Yes?"

"Inform the Jr. Moderator Lumi that if he isn't on board by the time I reach the Gryphon, he will be left behind."
Moderator Emeritus (frozen in carbonite.)





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Sat Feb 05, 2011 9:14 am
Lumi says...



“Welcome to mod school!”

Lumi tilted his head to the side, eyes weary, and stared at the monkey standing in front of the class. He furrowed his brow and looked around him at the other YWSers sitting in desks. Then he looked up at the monkey again.

“We’re gonna start you off with a test!”

The class monotonously chanted, “Yay.”

“Four hundred questions!”

“Yay.”

“And then you must write an epic poem to be judged by Principal Nate himself!”

The class did not respond; they simply began writing. Lumi squinted his eyes, scratching fingers through his dark hair, and looked down at his desk where a small booklet of a test had appeared. “Seriously?” he asked himself aloud, and jerked his eyes to attention as the monkey shrieked in front of the class.

“We have a cheater!” The monkey swung a banana around like a boomerang, clocking Lumi in the face. The poor guy fell out of his desk, bleeding light green from his cheek. With a hand pressed to his face, he looked up at the monkey, who pounced on him, dragging him to the principal’s office.

And there he sat.

May FRED have mercy on your soul, read a plaque. After several eons, the door to the inner sanctum opened, and an ominous voice echoed, “Come in.”

Lumi inched forward, standing in the center of a sole spotlight in a shadowed room. The young mod shivered and gripped his sides, ready for the worst. What could happen? Banning? Permabanning? Death?

“Lumi, you have committed a grave sin among the mods.”

He stared up into the blackness from which the voice came. “I remember saying one word, si—“

“—Enough. As punishment, you will now be sentenced to Death Via Company of Griffinkeeper!”

Lumi’s eyes rounded, his mouth gaping. He stumbled backwards and shook his head, trying to grasp onto the right words. “B-But—“

“Thus says the great Nate!”

Shadows grabbed onto Lumi’s arms, dragging him back into the blackness. He fought against them, but couldn’t move as something gripped his throat. Air left his lungs; his vision blacked out. His balance spinning, spinning—

“Thus says the great Nate, Lumi!”

The young mod gasped for air, suddenly very awake and very afraid in his bed. Sweat filtered through his hair and soaked his chest. “W-what?”

Jagged turned her Droid towards Lumi, letting him read the message. “Nate sent it via some weird correspondence. Looks like a new mod may be on the scene.”

Lumi stared off onto the wall, curious. “Why do I suddenly have thirty minutes to get to a ship I’ve never seen?”

“FFC…what could that stand for?”

“Why is Nate rushing me?” Lumi shuffled out of bed and proceeded to the shower, leaving Jag to ponder outside the door. When he came out, she was still waiting,

“Fast Food Creeper.”

“Twenty minutes.” Lumi staggered into a pair of jeans and checked his teeth in the mirror.

“Feed Firearris Cookies?”

“Good impressions are vital, right?”

“Freak For—“

“—Christ, I’m gonna be late.” Lumi pulled on his shoes and grabbed his bags and final things, rushing out the door without another word.

“I’ll send you poetry!” Jag yelled out the door before returning to her fanfic.

_____

Lumi ran around the corners of tall buildings, nearly running into an old Distinguished Member on the corner of Lyric and Dramatic. He staggered up to the loading docks and checked his watch. Less than five minutes. The trainee groaned and took off at his top speed, losing his footing as a strange figure stepped out in front of him. Lumi topped sideways, dropping several things on the ground. When he looked up, a notorious YWSer with a question mark on her torso stood before him, arms crossed.

“They’ll find your body sooner or later, but you’ll be just the corpse of a moderator.” The woman grinned, nodding to two lackies behind her. One dressed as an orange raccoon, one dressed as a dinosaur. “You’re in Puzzler’s territory, greenie.”

Lumi staggered to his feet, gripping the things that had fallen from his bag before fiddling with a small gun-shaped taser in his pocket. “This—this is inappropriate behavior!” He stepped back, eyeing the three. “I don’t want to ban you, so just behave already.”

Puzzler eyed him wearily, stroking her chin with her pointer finger. “What do you think, Isha? Is he bluffing?”

The dinosaur inched forward and Lumi pulled a trigger labeled G for Gag. The gun released an electric charge in the shape of a gym sock into Isha’s face, rendering her immobile. Puzzler, eyes wide and hands stretched out, backed up, shaking her head. “Fine—carry on, then. But stay out of Puzzler territory!” Before Lumi could move again, the three had logged out, leaving Isha to glitch several times before vanishing. Lumi stowed his gun and wiped his brow, checking his watch.

Late. He swore beneath his breath and began running again, wondering why the ship had not begun moving already. Then, it occurred to him.

The email must have been a hoax. A fraud.

His fists clenched together and he gritted his teeth; this was just the thing that he’d have to deal with for however long he was stuck with Griffinkeeper…but maybe not. Would it be worth it in the end? Grif was the best ban-shot around, and could smell an underrated topic from a mile away. Lumi paused, considering it. He could benefit from shooting lessons, sure. And outside of the YWS station, he would be in actual use.

Grif could teach him all the things he lacked. Did Nate foresee that much?

A rocket fired in the distance, resounding in Lumi’s ears. He looked up from his pensiveness and watched wide-eyed as the ship began firing up. “Holy Chat lag…”

He began running once again.

_____

When he reached the dock, he covered his face with his forearm, shielding from the blasts of hot air coming from the ship’s exhaust. As he squinted, his phone rang.

Answer.

“Hello?”

“You’re late, trainee.” A woman’s voice, no less. Hollow. Animatronic.

“Technically, I’m ear—“

“Jump off of the dock.”

“What?!”

“Jump. Off. Of the dock.”

Lumi grimaced. “This is no time for suicide!”

The voice replied very calmly, “Trust me. Close your eyes and jump.”

So Lumi neared the edge of the dock, gazing down into the endless expanse of space beneath him. After a while, the artificial oxygen would run out and he’d suffocate. But, if he missed this opportunity, everything his life as a YWSer had meant would be all for naught—so he jumped.

Completely in free-fall, he clutched his phone, shouting, “Are you happy?!”

“Engage,” said the woman’s voice.

Lumi’s boots—the tacky green neon accessories—lit on fire, propelling him upwards towards the ship once again. Lumi shielded his eyes as he picked up speed, his Modrockets thrusting him towards the only open entrance on the ship—the abduction port.

_____

“It seems that our trainee has missed his opportunity.” Grif said, seeming to brag.

“Perhaps we have either overestimated or underestimated his prowess, sir.” Adelaide peered off towards the materialization plate.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he noted. “I remember the first time I trained up a JM—just as disappointing, but at least he made it long enough to say—“

“—Hello.”

Grif turned, head tilted in confusion, as Lumi materialized on the plate. The boy’s hair was disheveled and his entire appearance hinted that he had just been mugged by living mucus, but he was there. Slowly, with apprehension, Grif nodded. “Get changed.” The captain turned his back to the recruit and faced the monitors, mulling it over in his mind.

Lumi stood where he appeared, staring incredulously at his new trainer. A thousand questions in his head, of course, he asked, “You’re human?”

The captain turned his head, nodding slowly. “You were perhaps expecting some sort of space Gryphon?”

Lumi sighed in his head, turning his focus to the holographic woman who merely smiled and—winked?—before dematerializing. He took a step off the platform and staggered a bit, not yet with his space legs. Wobbly, he walked from the room, awaiting some sort of motion from the AI.

“You’ll change into your uniform in your newly-refurbished quarters.”

“Quarters? Wow.” Lumi grinned. “I was expecting a broom closet.”

“Better!” the AI announced. “Pesticide storage closet.”

His grin dropped. “There seems to be a metaphor in that, Miss Holograph.”

The blue data woman smiled softly, shaking her head. “My name is Adelaide,” she said, “and there are no metaphors on this ship.”
Last edited by Lumi on Sun Feb 06, 2011 7:39 am, edited 1 time in total.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Sun Feb 06, 2011 5:28 am
Griffinkeeper says...



The Gryphon was designed to be utilitarian in nature. A section of the ship could be turned into a cargo bay, a hanger, a swimming pool, or even a barracks. Currently, most of the Gryphon sections were dedicated to cargo, though it wasn't their only function. The forward section contained the living quarters. Though Grif preferred to travel alone, there were times when he would take on passengers; such as visiting dignitaries or a black ops team. As unexpected as the appearance of Lumi was; Grif was by no means unprepared. The rookie would sleep in the guest quarters, Adelaide had arranged it that way.

The rookie, Grif wouldn't call him anything else until he had earned it, did present a problem. Becoming a moderator wasn't so much a matter of training; so much as it was a matter of judgment. Teaching him how to live and thrive in space wasn't a particularly difficult task. If Grif needed to learn how to speak a language; he could simply download it onto his neural link. Knowing what to say and when to say it; that was something that couldn't be downloaded. It could only be taught. But before a student could be taught, he needed a teacher. Grif smiled as a plan emerged.

"Adelaide, when he finishes changing out of the muck, take him on a tour of the ship. After that, put him through some of the training simulators dealing with space survival, movement in zero g, etc. When he gets bored of recordings and bouncing against walls, let me know," Grif ordered.

"What of the epsilon contingency?"

"The rookie is classified as a civilian, the epsilon contingency will not affect him... for now. What's the mission?"

"Given our new passenger; I selected a simple trade mission to Epsilon Prime. It's an M-Class planet, stable, and peaceful. We'll be exchanging 1 billion YWS Literary Journals for for 100 tons of sand."

"What do we need 100 tons of sand for?"

"The sand on Epsilon Prime is particularly fine; Nate wants to sell it to hourglass makers on Canis IV."

"We'll go over Canis IV when we've got the cargo. What do we have in terms of threats between us and Epsilon Prime?"

"Minimal. Recent surveys indicate no dangerous astrophysical phenomena; we won't be passing through hostile space; the only thing that even smells dangerous is that we pass into sensor range for the Mystophians for a day or so; other than that it should be smooth sailing," Adelaide said. Grif looked up.

"When do we get in their sensor range?"

"About five days."

"Hopefully they'll pretend we don't exist," Grif said.

"We could alter our course to avoid their sensors, it would add another two days to the trip."

"No, we'll go and see what happens. When in doubt, go boldly."

"Very well. What will you do on the way?"

"We've got a cargo hold full of books and you ask me what I'll be doing?" Grif said.
Moderator Emeritus (frozen in carbonite.)








Go in fear of abstractions.
— Ezra Pound