Chapter 1
Jagger walked into the large garage-like section of the Abol Space Station. She was wearing her uniform, grease stains splashed here and there. She took the cross hanging around her neck on a silver chain necklace and softly tucked it beneath her shirt, along with her W.W.J.D. wristband, tucking that under her sleeve. Those were about the only things she did mind getting dirty. Whistling, she walked into a small room and tied her electric blue streaked hair into a short ponytail. Her hair was only down to her chin, so there wasn't much to work with. A small, built, but older man walked out of an even smaller office in the room, shaking his first at her. "Everyday, you're 10 minutes late!" She smiled. "But I make up by staying 10 minute's later than I have to, and that's when you're always busiest." She grabbed her tools, casually listening to her boss ramble. "Jagger, where is your motivation in life? What do you plan to do once you get a new job?" She grinned. "Who says I'm getting a new job?" Her boss sighed, turning to face the large window in the room that allowed him to view the garage. Clasping his hands behind his back, he made a face suggesting that he was contemplating things. "I may have to fire you someday if you keep it up, Jagger." She quoted every word he said, yawning boredly. "Now, boss, can I go? I am quite ashamed of my tardiness and I need time to th-.." She was cut off by a young man walking in. He looked in his early 20's, a few years older than Jagger. He saluted them both in an odd way before being rushed into the small office by her boss. She paused, shook her head, then walked out and made her way over to the advanced hover vehicle she was repairing. Yawning again, she slid under it on her back and continued her work. So involved in what she was doing, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching. "Excuse me, miss." Jagger, startled and caught off guard, smacked her head on some pipes beneath the vehicle before groaning and sliding out from under it. Although keeping a serious face, he was trying hard to contain his laughter. Hesitating, he then spoke. "I'm sorry." She stood slowly and held her head. "It's OK." "What is this you're working on?" She examined him, not answering his question, but instead thinking to herself. Wow, I should've got a better look at this guy before. The young man was tall, about 6 ft. or so, had cold blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair which was neatly done into single spikes. He wore the typical ship commanders' uniform, blue slightly baggy pants, with a gray coat, which adorned some badge-like symbols. Each signified some special characteristic of the commanders, such as being the best pilot of a fleet. His boots were neatly shined and Jagger began to think of how informal she must've looked in her own clothes to these people. She was about 5' 8 and had dark brown eyes with blue streaked hair, having been bored with the natural black hair she had. She always wore her black wristband with white letters reading W.W.J.D. (What Would Jesus Do?) and a beautiful cross that dangled around her neck on a silver chain. Her clothes consisted of baggy black pants and a fitted t-shirt along with boots, although not nearly as shiny as the commanders'. There was also a brown belt she wore. It slanted down her waist slightly for one side was weighed down a bit by the gun she carried. He raised a brow. "Hello?" She finally glanced over at the hover vehicle. "You tell me." He nodded. "What's your name?" Jagger paused before answering. "Jagger.Jagger Tucker." The commander narrowed his eyes. "Well, Ms. Tucker, I think you should lose your attitude and gain some respect for others." Jagger continued to watch him for a moment before smiling fakely. "It's an equipped force model, t 500-4600." He nodded, as he often did. "I see." Irritated with her, he turned away and walked towards the entrance. "And, you were right, you weren't stealing last night." Jagger paused, realizing he was the man in the dining hall from a few nights before. Meanwhile, the young commanders' brain was working hard, trying to bring up the reason for why her last name, Tucker, sounded so familiar.
Jagger walked into the large garage-like section of the Abol Space Station. She was wearing her uniform, grease stains splashed here and there. She took the cross hanging around her neck on a silver chain necklace and softly tucked it beneath her shirt, along with her W.W.J.D. wristband, tucking that under her sleeve. Those were about the only things she did mind getting dirty. Whistling, she walked into a small room and tied her electric blue streaked hair into a short ponytail. Her hair was only down to her chin, so there wasn't much to work with. A small, built, but older man walked out of an even smaller office in the room, shaking his first at her. "Everyday, you're 10 minutes late!" She smiled. "But I make up by staying 10 minute's later than I have to, and that's when you're always busiest." She grabbed her tools, casually listening to her boss ramble. "Jagger, where is your motivation in life? What do you plan to do once you get a new job?" She grinned. "Who says I'm getting a new job?" Her boss sighed, turning to face the large window in the room that allowed him to view the garage. Clasping his hands behind his back, he made a face suggesting that he was contemplating things. "I may have to fire you someday if you keep it up, Jagger." She quoted every word he said, yawning boredly. "Now, boss, can I go? I am quite ashamed of my tardiness and I need time to th-.." She was cut off by a young man walking in. He looked in his early 20's, a few years older than Jagger. He saluted them both in an odd way before being rushed into the small office by her boss. She paused, shook her head, then walked out and made her way over to the advanced hover vehicle she was repairing. Yawning again, she slid under it on her back and continued her work. So involved in what she was doing, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching. "Excuse me, miss." Jagger, startled and caught off guard, smacked her head on some pipes beneath the vehicle before groaning and sliding out from under it. Although keeping a serious face, he was trying hard to contain his laughter. Hesitating, he then spoke. "I'm sorry." She stood slowly and held her head. "It's OK." "What is this you're working on?" She examined him, not answering his question, but instead thinking to herself. Wow, I should've got a better look at this guy before. The young man was tall, about 6 ft. or so, had cold blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair which was neatly done into single spikes. He wore the typical ship commanders' uniform, blue slightly baggy pants, with a gray coat, which adorned some badge-like symbols. Each signified some special characteristic of the commanders, such as being the best pilot of a fleet. His boots were neatly shined and Jagger began to think of how informal she must've looked in her own clothes to these people. She was about 5' 8 and had dark brown eyes with blue streaked hair, having been bored with the natural black hair she had. She always wore her black wristband with white letters reading W.W.J.D. (What Would Jesus Do?) and a beautiful cross that dangled around her neck on a silver chain. Her clothes consisted of baggy black pants and a fitted t-shirt along with boots, although not nearly as shiny as the commanders'. There was also a brown belt she wore. It slanted down her waist slightly for one side was weighed down a bit by the gun she carried. He raised a brow. "Hello?" She finally glanced over at the hover vehicle. "You tell me." He nodded. "What's your name?" Jagger paused before answering. "Jagger.Jagger Tucker." The commander narrowed his eyes. "Well, Ms. Tucker, I think you should lose your attitude and gain some respect for others." Jagger continued to watch him for a moment before smiling fakely. "It's an equipped force model, t 500-4600." He nodded, as he often did. "I see." Irritated with her, he turned away and walked towards the entrance. "And, you were right, you weren't stealing last night." Jagger paused, realizing he was the man in the dining hall from a few nights before. Meanwhile, the young commanders' brain was working hard, trying to bring up the reason for why her last name, Tucker, sounded so familiar.