Space Stations and the Ships Who Love Them
By Karen Hart
Disclaimer: In no
way do I own any part of the Xenosaga series, nor do I make any money
from this or other fanfictions. I write these stories for love of the
game(s), nothing more.
He was late, the Kukai Foundation realized when she accessed the main time display. Unacceptably late, even, given that it was nearly a full day since he'd been scheduled to dock. She folded her arms in a huff, or imagined she did, lacking actual limbs, and continued to wait.
---
They'd gathered together in the Durandal's casino, ironically the safest place to discuss any plans; the patrons were far more interested in their games than any potential intrigue. Lights flashed urgently around them, the smell of nicotine smoke and gamblers' shouts intermingling. Even they were having trouble hearing themselves.
Shion leaned forward, one elbow on the high-stakes table. "So how're we gonna get in there? They've probably established something in the way of defenses." She threw down a yellow chip. "Fifty credits."
The redhead sitting across from her smirked. "Seen. Raise you another fifty." Two more chips hit the pile, clinking inaudibly. "Easy, we just do what we've been doing. Though I'm sure Matthews'll have a few objections."
"I'll say!" Shion glanced around, as if expecting the Elsa's captain to show up right behind her. "I'm amazed he's gone along with things this far. You'd think he'd stall at some point."
Jr. shook his head. "I wouldn't say that. We pay him well, and the man can't resist a fat paycheck."
"But if that's the case, then why is he in debt all the time?" MOMO piped up, curiosity getting the better of her.
"Because," Jr. said, grinning impishly, "he can't stop buying things in advance!"
---
She began to worry. It wasn't like him to put off a docking sequence this long. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe he was injured, in need of serious maintenance. Worry turned to outright fretting, and she paced by way of setting off the maneuvering jets, little bursts that sent workers into frothing fits, panicking over system malfunctions and mandatory overhauls.
Where was he?
---
A chime broke through the din of the casino, though no one paid much attention to the announcement that issued from the overhead speakers: "We will be entering normal space in approximately four minutes, twenty-two seconds. All hands, please return to your designated stations immediately. I repeat: We will be entering—"
MOMO stood up, only to be pulled back down by Jr. She looked at him in confusion. "Doesn't apply to us. Don't worry about it." She nodded.
---
There he was! The Foundation watched in eager anticipation as the gate grew, first a slight distortion, then a sphere of energy and finally a soundless explosion of light and color. Two of her external cameras were trained on him, anxiously searching for any signs of trouble.
There were none.
Worry turned into anger and the misgivings she'd tried to suppress came floating back to the surface. Where we you! she shouted through a communications line no human could ever intercept.
I was on a rescue mission, the crimson ship's "voice" came back, defensive.
The Foundation snorted at that. I'll just bet you were! Always have to go and save someone or other, don't you? So who was it? That little teal-colored hussy? The Durandal seemed to glow a brighter red.
There was (guilty, she thought) silence from the Durandal. Look, Foundy, baby, you know we never actual do anything…!
Oh really! Then why the hell is she riding you all the time? Hm! And don't you call me Foundy!
This time the Durandal's silence was aggrieved. Oh, please don't be jealous. I'd never cheat on you with that tiny thing. Look, how about you just let me dock? You'll feel better. I promise.
She was silent this time, offended by the advance. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Well, I don't think so!
---
"What the…?" Mary stared blankly at the screen. "What do you mean the docking mechanism is jammed?"
A man in orange coveralls stared back and shrugged, helpless. "Just that. We can't get the bar to retract and we've tried everything. Looks like you're going to have to circle around for—wait a sec…!" The mechanic dived away from his comm screen then, then back a moment later. "That's odd. Looks like it's all fixed now. Wonder what went wrong."
Mary shrugged it off. "Don't know. Oh well, make sure to check that as soon as possible, though. Right now I want to get off this can and get some fresher air."
The mechanic grinned. "It's still pumped through a purifier, you know."
"Oh hush!"
---
The Durandal remained motionless and silent. When she got like this, it was hard to reason with her. It could be done, however, with the right openers, the right promises. All right. I know it always looks bad, but it's not. It really isn't. Her Logic Drive failed her. And I couldn't just leave her there. But I promise you, once you let me dock, she'll leave and it'll be just us again. If he had eyes he would've winked suggestively. I promise.
She could feel herself relenting. …all right. But if she stays there an hour longer, I swear you won't get any docking time for a month!
I hear and I obey! the Durandal replied instantly, startled by the ultimatum. As the red ship began docking procedures, it sighed without breath. Sometimes, being him was just so hard!