Griffith 070

Sargy: HALLO. This is a collaborated story between yours truly and mah mate Tonks. Who, at the moment, if not online so I am uploading this without her. Don't tell heeeer. Anyhow, the story is pretty much a science-fantasy genre, so if you don't like that sort of thing, don't read. Also, this'll contain lotsa slash. Again, don't like, don't read. Over and out!

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PROLOGUE

In the year 2300 a dying species known as the 'Magen' called to Earth for help.

Humans, being the rough but caring souls that they were, instantly took the aliens in as their own, allowing them settlement and the right to breed and recreate their kind.

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2603

Chapter 1 – Oily rags and a new job.

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He hummed to himself as he shoved the faintly glowing spanner into the Tron's innards, twisting until he heard a snap of wire and rune. He peered into the metal helper's stomach, "Where is iiiit…ah!" He shoved his hands amongst the mechanics, only to pull them back with a yelp of pain, "BUGGER! Shitting little-"

The dark-haired man looked at his burnt and sparking fingertips, "OuchouchOUCH…fuck…" He glared at the robot, "What's your problem anyway, you piece of junk?"

The robot, which was extremely lifeless at the moment in time, did not reply. Sirius frowned at it, scrutinizing, before letting his breath out in an annoyed sigh, "Go leak your oil elsewhere."

Moments later, he was back to humming and thrusting spanners at technology again.

It was a dump of a job. Fixing Trons and cleaning up oil-spills. But he made enough cash to keep himself alive, so he made do. The only thing that annoyed Sirius Black to no end was the fact that there were very high-ranking officials living in the same spaceship as him - it made him feel a little bit like a slave, rather than a working-class citizen.

He fixed the front of the Tron back on and got to his feet, grabbing the oily rag he always carried with him and using it to wipe his brow.

"Oi!" He called down the corridor, "Your robot's done, mate- sir." He corrected himself quickly. The pilot who had asked him to fix the Tron peered out of his office, pushing his glasses up his nose, "Ah. Very good, Black." He threw him a few lunch tokens and silver coins before picking up the robot and returning to the office.

Sirius, only a little annoyed at being dismissed so quickly, hoisted his toolbag onto his shoulder, feeling his stomach growling to be fed, "Okay, shut up a second, we're going to the canteen now."

The canteen was only half-full. Sirius knew he was late, and that most of the good food would be gone, but he found he didn't care an awful lot.

He walked over to the pay desk and handed in his tokens before collecting a tray and moving over to the hatch. Before him lay a selection of grey liquids and packet foods. Sirius selected the 'PadThai Sauce' and placed his tray under the processor. The lumpy grey substance splattered onto the tray followed by a plastic spoon which missed and clattered onto the floor. He picked it up with a grunt of annoyance and carried the tray back to his workstation.

The meal (if you could call it that) was demolished within a matter of seconds and soon Sirius was licking his plate clean of the disgusting 'high altitude snack'. He sighed contentedly, threw the tray into the disposal chute and picked up his toolbox.

He headed down into to the belly of the ship to fix more Trons.

"And on we go…" He muttered. His voice was distant, dramatic and determined. Oh, how his life was exciting.

"BLACK!"

Sirius spun round in surprise, "Uhm…yessir?" He replied slowly, unsure of who it was he was talking to.

A tall, bearded man was standing behind him, in a uniform which clearly said 'I am a top-notch person, so don't get on my bad side or I'll fire you'. "We have a job for you. I'm sure you're aware of the fact that people with your job-" -he spoke it with hint of disgust which did not go unnoticed by Sirius- "-are being appointed to members of the Flight Crew?"

Sirius was aware of the new regime, but had been hoping he wouldn't be chosen for it. Members of the Flight Crew were the elite – the quickest, the smartest and the most adept people on board the Griffith. They made up the pilots, advisors and exobiologists upon the ship's Bridge.

Now people of his status – janitors, Tron mechanics, trainees – were being picked out at random to pose as assistants to, again, randomly picked members of the Flight Crew.

Bugger. He thought.

The look on his face gave him away.

"Don't look like that. Your pay will rise considerably if you do a good job of it, Black."

"I know, sir." Sirius sighed quietly. "When do I start?"

"Tomorrow. Follow me." He turned away, marching off towards the Bridge, without looking back to see if the younger man was following.

They walked down a few enclosed corridors, past a few fire doors, and dodged a few working Trons as they made their way towards the Bridge. Sirius didn't speak much, but when he did, it was a question: "Uhh…sir? Do you think I'll be doing anything like my…old job?"
Old job? That didn't sound right. It was hardly old. He had just finished it. And it was only now, after just finishing it, that Sirius realised how fond of the job he was.

"I'm not going to decide your errands, Black. Your new director will."

The officious bloke led Sirius into the large, glass dome which was the Bridge. It was massive. The front of the area was taken up by large and fancy-looking technology, no doubt for piloting the ship. A few men were leaning over the controls, others were talking to screens, and fewer still were mapping out co-ordinates and bearings.

Slightly left of these people were several immense bookshelves. Will I have to read all of those? "I'm doomed." Sirius spoke out loud without realising it.

Luckily for him, his guide didn't seem to be listening; he had crossed the floor to talk to a young man who had been pouring over a large sheet of paper, which was either a blueprint or more bearings.

Quite suddenly, both men looked over to Sirius.

"Come here." Said the bearded one. Sirius did as he was told, trudging grudgingly towards them.

"Black, this is Remus Lupin. He will be your supervisor from now on. You are to do as he says and treat him as your superior."

And it was at the moment that Sirius decided that he was going to hate this new job with a passion.