2. McQueen.
McQueen had been angry - no furious in fact - that Commodore Ross had asked - no - TOLD him that the 5-8 was to provide an honour guard to the "guest" they were expecting. The whole idea behind it was ridiculous! He had argued with Ross until he was blue in the face, but the "high ups" had decided that this was a good idea, and could be of benefit to the Corps. So he had no final say in the matter. Humiliating - that's what it was. Damn humiliating!
The transport door opened and it seemed at first that no one was there. Then slowly a hand appeared, white knuckles gripped the doorframe. It was followed slowly by a pale, fearful face peering around the edge of the door. Eyes widened as she saw them standing there, her short, brown, curly hair bobbing slightly as she pulled her head back fast, to look behind her. Looking for someone, he thought, as she turned back and stared straight into his eyes with piercing blue eyes of her own that seemed to see down into his very soul. To see the amusement he had felt as she first slowly appeared. She made him feel uncomfortable just by the way she looked at him, damn her!
On route to her quarters he had had to stop three times to let her catch him up - once because she'd stopped to stare out at the stars! Damn civilians! A carrier was not the place for them. He delivered her to her quarters and gave her the Commodore's message. He left, anxious to get away from the eyes he could feel boring into the back of his head, anxious to get out of his dress blues and into his regular flight suit. He'd feel better then, he told himself.
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McQueen had been angry - no furious in fact - that Commodore Ross had asked - no - TOLD him that the 5-8 was to provide an honour guard to the "guest" they were expecting. The whole idea behind it was ridiculous! He had argued with Ross until he was blue in the face, but the "high ups" had decided that this was a good idea, and could be of benefit to the Corps. So he had no final say in the matter. Humiliating - that's what it was. Damn humiliating!
The transport door opened and it seemed at first that no one was there. Then slowly a hand appeared, white knuckles gripped the doorframe. It was followed slowly by a pale, fearful face peering around the edge of the door. Eyes widened as she saw them standing there, her short, brown, curly hair bobbing slightly as she pulled her head back fast, to look behind her. Looking for someone, he thought, as she turned back and stared straight into his eyes with piercing blue eyes of her own that seemed to see down into his very soul. To see the amusement he had felt as she first slowly appeared. She made him feel uncomfortable just by the way she looked at him, damn her!
On route to her quarters he had had to stop three times to let her catch him up - once because she'd stopped to stare out at the stars! Damn civilians! A carrier was not the place for them. He delivered her to her quarters and gave her the Commodore's message. He left, anxious to get away from the eyes he could feel boring into the back of his head, anxious to get out of his dress blues and into his regular flight suit. He'd feel better then, he told himself.
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