Author's Notes
Okay, granted, I haven't written that much, but there's a definite pattern to what I have written. Write it, type it, proofread, revise, convert to html from plain text, then chapterize, then give it a final go through. This one I'm going to try smashing that process. Write it, type it, upload it, essentially. I'll try to stay a few chapters ahead, but not all that far ahead. Guess another departure for me will be decreasing the blood content. Language already gets a little rough, but there's not nearly as much violence in this one as the Inuyasha-Nadesico arc-thing. Yes, this one is completely seperate from that whole mess and totally unrelated. Aaaand expect more typos and spelling errors. I'm just going to use a text editor and a dictionary. So, we'll see what happens...
// \\
Seated in the middle of a row of airline waiting chairs, a lone figure dozed, his feet propped on the baggage before him and his head leaning against the seat's back. The few travelers that walked past the man gave the impression that the man was a Goliath, a dark-skinned giant from Texas among the people of Japan at a full two meters in height.
Without warning a duffle sailed through th air and thudded into the chair next to him. He slowly opened one eye to find the busness end of a rather large sword leveled at him. The eye closed itself again and its owner heaved a sigh, raising one arm to brush the sword away from him as he stood. "You know, Edinburgh, someday you should really learn how to use that thing."
"And just where does the fabeled MIT student suggest I learn to use a Claymore? Sure I can find plenty of Kendo instructors around here, but Claymores? Come on."
The darker man laughed slightly and shook his trenchcoat more comfortably around himself. "Beats me. I'm not the one swinging the sword around. You know you're supposed to get a license or something for those things around here, right?"
"Unlike others in attendance, I do my homework. All that is squared away."
"You mean to say they let a loon like you walk around Japan with a sword?"
"Yea... hey!" The newcomer stuttered. Hused for a moment and smiled, digging the point of his weapon into the carpet before him. He shook his head, causing his massive locks to writhe around him. "Guess neither of us have really changed, have we? It's been what, two years, hasn't it Mike?"
The trenchcoat shrugged. "Something like that." He paused to pitch his voice into a mockery of an announcer. "Masters Michael Christenson of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and Joseph Tobias McLaren of the University of Edinburgh will be discussing trends in academic computing versus those in corporate computing. Who dreamed that up?" he finished, returning his voice to normal.
The latter laughed and wrapped his sword in its cloth. "Yeah, any place that refuses to call me JT scares me. Even moreso if they go for Joseph not Tobias."
Christenson returned the smile. "So what are you doing here? You're about to be working for 'The Man to end all The Men.'"
McLaren shrugged. "To get to work with Omoikane it's worth it."
"And the chance to meet El Fairy Electronico isn't?"
The Scotsman looked at his friend. "If I remember correctly, you were always the one chasing skirts, not me."
"Yeah, but it was during your stay in Texas that summer for the conference where you first saw her image on the news. 'Smitten' was a good word to describe you."
TJ smirked slightly and thickened his brogue. "Aye, maybe somewhat, but we could both feel empathy for her, couldn't we? She was 14, 15 and captaining a ship, and I was barely 16, you were 19, and we were up there leading a bloody panel discussion."
"That'd put her at about 17 now, wouldn't it? Yes, just about the right age for you, Junior."
"Shut up, Senior."
"Me? Quiet? Anyways. You know that vessel captains in U.E. Spacey as well as the Confederation are just hottie figureheads."
The Scotsman shrugged again noncommitently. "I'll admit I've tried to follow her 'career' a little bit, and I haven't heard enough to know if she's the figurehead type or not."
"Guess we'll find out soon enough," Mike said as he cocked his head slightly. "Hmm. Propane tram comin'. Guess that's Mr. Uribatake coming to pick us up."
The two watched as a tram careened down the hallway towards them, bouncing a few random travellers, suitcases, and now-unpotted plants off of its grill. The vehicle and its trailer screeched to a halt in front of them, and Christenson and McLaren were faced with their new immediate supervisor. "So! You two must be Omoikane's new lackeys!" Seiya said heartily.
Mike's eyebrow raised slightly as JT began loading both of the baggage onto the tram's trailer. "You know," Christenson said slowly, "I didn't think you could slide one of these around like that."
Seiya laughed loudly. "It takes some practice, I can tell you that."
Mike flopped into the seat next to Seiya, pulling his coat's ends into the vehicle lest they were shredded en route to the ship. JT barely had time to leap onto the tram's bed before Uribatake rocketed the small truck down the hall again.
// \\
"But Kanchou! Aren't we enough to run Omoikane?"
Prospector sighed slightly. The review he'd made Hoshino fill out on Makibi was correct. "Underestimates some areas of ability while overestimating others" was how she had phrased it. He was rephrasing it "alone, he sees himself as nothing but vulnerable, while with Hoshino-san he views the pair as invincible."
"Oi, Hari-kun," Saburouta piped up, "isn't there a difference between running and maintaining?"
"Demo..."
"Hari-kun," Hoshino interrupted, "you are correct that we are enough to run Omoikane, but Saburouta-san is also correct that we need others to maintain him for us."
"Maa, maa," Prospector said, quieting the parts of the trio before him in need of it. "Regardless, Akatsuki-san has made the decision and selected the crewmen already."
Saburouta leaned sideways to look at the datasheets Prospector held. "Two, eh?"
"Hai, one's 18, the other 21," Prospector replied, handing copies of the profiles to Ruri and Hari. "They will fall under Seiya's observation, so the two of you won't have to worry about shepherding them."
"Uribatake-san is staying onboard?" Hari asked.
"Hai," the bowtie responded. "A lot of the old crew have decided to return to their lives, but Uribatake-san opted to revive his comission for a while. Fressange-san will be joining us via shuttle."
Ruri looked up from the profiles she was still reading through. "Has Yurika-san accepted the posistion as resident admiral?"
"I may have to play cards with the UE Spacey as well as both Misumaru-san, but I think she will. I agree that she will fare better under Fressange-san's care than, shall we say, normal care?" Ruri nodded as she finished reading through the two engineers' profiles. Saburouta followed suit and commented, "How much money did you have to pay these two to recruit them away from their universities?"
"Suprisingly little," Prospector replied. "Both were quite eager for the opportunity 'to work with Omoikane,' as one put it."
Ruri and Hari both looked up upon hearing the pharse. "Demo... it's not common knowledge that Omoikane's sentient, is it?" Hari asked.
"I suppose it is not inconceivable that others know of Omoikane more than his name, particularly those in a field such as theirs. It is also possible that the one that said it did not fully realize the accuracy of his words," Ruri replied.
The group continued discussions of other new crew they were bringing onboard, though conversation tended to drift back to the two compsci students that were coming aboard. Even Ruri felt slight discomfort at letting strangers so close to Omoikane, though she understood the need for others to handle the more mundane tasks of Omoikane, freeing herself and Hari to focus on managing the ship as a whole. The debate continued until a soft chime at the conference room's door interrupted them. The entryway slid open to reveal Seiya flanked by two young men who both appeared to be rather shaken by their encounter with their supervisor's driving.
// \\
After the requisite formalities from Prospector regarding contracts and such, JT and Mike excused themselves from the room, reclaiming the baggage from outside the door where they had left it. Guided by a diagram of the ship through a maze of corridors, they finally found themselves outside of their facing quarters. They stood with their backs to each other, facing their doors.
"You know these used to be storage compartments before they created our posistions?" Tobias asked.
"Yeah," Mike said with a slight drawl. "At least we're right next to the central core, but..."
"But. Storage compartments."
"Exactly. On three?"
"One."
"Two."
"Three," they chorused and punched their keycards against their locks. Each stepped into his room and groped for the lightswitch.
Finding his first, Mike's eyes suddenly blinked against the flourescent lighting after growing accustomed to the darkness. "You sure these were storage compartments?"
McLaren finally found the switch in his quarters and hit it before replying. "Yeah, that's what... Mr. Prospector... said...."
"Damn storage compartment's bigger than my dorm room at MIT. Workstation, attached bath..."
"Well, we don't seem to be near any other crew quarters, either."
"Point," Michael said, tossing a backpack onto the bed. "So, should we introduce ourselves to Omoikane?" Upon not hearing a reply, he stepped back out into the hall to find his co-worker had donned his near-ever-present black leather jacket and was keying his access code into Omoikane's door.
"For you to be older than me, it appears I'm way ahead of you." The doors which comprised the end of the hallway parted and the two stepped into the Lexan-walled office overlooked the main arrays which comprised Omoikane. Silently, the two walked past the mass of terminals that made up their workstations and through the glass door opposite the one they had just come through. Their office space was well insulated as both winced slightly at the chill of the core itself. For some time, neither said anything and simply stared down into Omoikane's six-deck cavern.
"I once went on a trip to France," Mike said, his hushed voice almost inaudble over the roar of the systems around them. "While I was there, I visited the Louvre, as well as a couple of Cathedrals. That was nothing compared to this," he breathed.
His companion said nothing but slowly nodded his head. The two stood quietly for a few minutes longer before returning to the warmer confines of their work area. "So, which station's which?" JT asked as the door finished closing, breaking the silence.
"Well," Michael said, adopting a tone he might use with a child, "considering that the desks are arranged basicaly back to back, matching how our quarters face each other, that would be my first clue. My second clue would be the fact," he continued, shifting his tone back to normal," that you're the only moron I know who still likes old-fashioned keyboards around him!"
"There's that, I suppose," the Scotsman replied as he settled into his workstation's rather large chair and pulled a keyboard towards himself.
"I hate you, did you know that?"
"I hate you too, buddy," came the reply as both swivled their pair of IFS interfaces up into place and began the ritual poking around in the systems.
// \\
A few hours later, chirping at the door indicated someone entering their access code for the room, and the two turned to see Makibi Hari standing in the doorway. "Ano... Kanchou wanted to know if you'd have dinner with us..."
Christenson stretched in his chair. "Kanchou say 'you' as in 'JT' or 'you' as in 'y'all'?"
"Nani?"
"She means as in y'all, Tex," McLaren said, standing. "How else would she mean it?"
Mike stood as well and the trio moved out into the hallway. "I suppose it does make sense. All she'd have to do is find a way to ditch Hari and me, and she'd have Supah-Pimp Toby all to herself."
"I hate you, 'Mikey.'"
"I hate you too, buddy."
Hari looked up at the flowing-haired engineer as he led them through the ship. "Is he as bad as Saburouta-san?"
JT glanced down and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "Met Saburouta-san when I met you. Couldn't say."
"I can say," Mike said, jabbing a thumb towards himself. "I'm the Original Ecchi! Pheer mah womainizing!"
"M-mike-san!" Hari blurted.
"Don't let 'im get to you kid. Unless your bra size is bigger than his ego, he's harmless."
The banter continued as the trio trekked onward towards the ship's cafeteria where their Captain waited.
// \\
"Patient" was certainly a word synonymous with the golden-eyed captain of the Nadesico. Alternately, that had no bearing on whether or not she got bored. As such, she found herself wishing that she'd brought with her the novel she was currently reading or at least some paperwork to work on while she waited for Hari to arrive with Christenson and McLaren. However, she hadn't and had only her thoughts to occupy her while she waited. She let her mind drift back to meeting the two new engineers brought onboard for Omoikane's sake. Omoikane had no direct influence over the decision; it had been Akatsuki's final decision as Prospector had said. At the same time she held the opinion that the computer's self-awareness had asserted itself in the process and had quietly encouraged the hiring of these two particular candidates.
One of them, Christenson, had immediately hit it off with Saburouta during the introductions. She supposed ti was something of the womanizer in each of them that caused them to get along. She imagined on the walk here he would manage to embarrass Makibi at least once.
The other one, "JT", she hadn't decided what to make of yet. He hadn't said very much when they met, yet... The best she could express it was that his smile reminded her of Akito's. She know that didn't completely define the impression she had of him, but it was the best way she could express it at the moment. She wasn't too concerned, since there woul dbe plenty of time to sort out how she defined him, as well as the rest of the new crew, after the C re-launched in a few weeks, in addition to the fact that the party in question was stepping through the cafeteria's door with Hari and Christenson at the moment.
// \\
Footnotes...
Well, not much to comment on, although there are a few points...
First, McLaren's sword. Nope, no real significance, other than that it's attributed with which you'll read about in a few chapters. I figured I'd toss it in to kind of Mary Sue the character for a little bit. I don't intend for it to be a major plot-point or anything, just a conversation piece to waste words on. Cuz I'm long-winded.
Second, "El Fairy Electronico" is certainly not Spanish. It's just something that occasionally happens in Texas... I guess you could call it "faux Spanish."
Third, the storage compartments really are a joke, at least to me. It's kind of a "Trouble with Tribbles" kinda thing. Ya either know what I mean or there's no point explaining. I've just always been amused by Kirk's line about storage compartments.
Finally, "Supah Pimp" and "pheer" (which could more accurately be spelled ph34r). Yeah, I tried to put a little bit of Mac Hall and Largo into Mike. It's just a little obvious right there ;-)
I don't see a need to spell out what Japanese I use, I should warn you. My knowledge of the language is definitely subpar, just stuff I've picked up from watching subs, which anybody should pick up on. And if you've only watched Nadesico dubbed, GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?????
No, I don't feel strongly about the quality of the Nadesico dub, nope, not at all... damn, would you look at how big my nose just got?
Ja.