I'm ba–ack! Just couldn't sit idle all day without publishing the first chapter of one last story before all my free time gets eaten up by the daunting prospect of campus life. A word of warning, if you're looking for something along the lines of Borne Up on Angel Wings, this isn't it. I need a break from the suspense and angst and drama and weightiness of that story...so I get to write this instead!
Borne Up on Angel Wings was written from the heart. This comes from somewhere else, possibly the pancreas. Business Trip is a funny, almost nonsensical little blurb whose purpose is none other than to make you guys laugh (although it does have a plot! I managed even that!) It's just something I've been wanting to write for a while, so if you're curious, read on! Keep in mind it wasn't written very seriously, so it shouldn't be read very seriously. Like I said, it's good if you're in the mood for a laugh.
Takes place before Shion's trip on the Woglinde (Xenosaga Episode I), but then the storyline branches off completely, so the story is 100 percent spoiler free.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, besides a few ill-conceived plots. Stop calling me!
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Business Trip
Chapter One: Drunk and Fabulous
---
For Aeris1172, who shares my same obsession with crude, inappropriate humor.
For KP-X, who helped me rediscover my love of putting words to paper.
For Wends, whose whip-like sarcasm is inspiration for this story.
For rdsullivan, without whose support I would never be writing this.
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"Will the Chief Engineer of First Research & Development Division please report to the President's office...That is all."
Shion Uzuki looked up from her computer screen. Two tired, bloodshot eyes stared out through her glasses at the blurry world around her. She grunted, winced and held her throbbing head. Today of all days. These sorts of things, she reasoned as she staggered out of her chair, only happened to her.
Stupid Allen and his stupid birthday party. Why did he have to be a loser all year and then for one day throw the wildest party known to mankind on a Tuesday? Had she known she was going to drink herself into a fantastical stupor last night, she would have reconsidered attending the party, and instead would have sent him a nice birthday card. Stupid Allen... She had expected a boring get-together with boring friends who played scrabble all night and retired at 11:30. She didn't expect to wake up on Allen's couch the next morning wearing nothing but the Managing Director's pants and her bra around her head. The half-tattooed Vector logo on her butt and the vomit in her purse weren't very reassuring either. (However her dermatologist had said that the tattoo could and would be removed through excruciatingly painful surgery...how comforting.) At the very least, her wasted mind had no recollection whatsoever of the party, which soothed her, since she didn't really want to know why she happened to wake up that morning wearing the Marketing Director's pants. Stupid party...
Which is why a cold shower and five cups of coffee later, Shion had tottered clumsily into the First Division offices with a head-splitting hangover hoping nobody would notice her heavily intoxicated state. She had almost managed to pull it off, until the loud, cold voice of Vector's "listen to me for I am all powerful" PA blared around the steel walls of her office, calling her to meet the head honcho—of all freaking people! She was not pleased.
Tripping and swearing loudly, she staggered down her office towards the shuttle that would take her to the president's quarters. Her underlings, elated that today their boss was too hung-over to notice if a computer terminal exploded, upon seeing her, immediately began shuffling papers and accessing text files on their monitors purposefully, giving the incredibly false impression that they were in fact very busy at work and had not done absolutely nothing of any consequence since the day began, except maybe restock the water-cooler.
"Morning Chief!" Allen chirped happily as she passed his desk. He motioned emphatically to the jacket he was wearing—the one she had given him for his birthday.
"I hope you die and suffer in hell." She grumbled inaudibly, shooting her best, bloodshot, "I hate you" look before stumbling over a chair and hitting the sliding door three times until it opened for her, allowing her to leave the office with about as much dignity as if she were naked.
Once she was out of sight and ear-shot, one of Shion's younger employees stopped typing his college fight song on his computer and stood up on his chair, "Alright! She's gone! Foosball tournament upstairs in Advertising!"
—
Her trip to the President/CEO's office was about as painful and nerve destroying as humanly possible. The shuttle that took her from the First Division offices to Vector's Central Headquarters must have been piloted by a hyperactive five-year-old who had no sense of speed, balance, or momentum and had apparently never flown a shuttle through the Dammerung in his life. The shuttle's lurching and veering and banking made Shion believe in miracles once she exited it in a nauseous daze: she hadn't thrown up once. Although she had come really close...
After making two full, humiliating cycles in the building's rotating doors, she wobbled into the Central Headquarters—a gigantic, multi-complex skyscraper that dominated the Dammerung's interior—as the lobby spun tauntingly in front of her. She should have braced herself, because she was about to gain a profound loathing for elevators. The President's office sat at the top of Central Headquarters, and since Shion didn't feel like walking up 317 flights of stairs, she opted to take the elevator instead. Big mistake.
The crowded container that she stood in as it blasted up its shaft like a rocket not only gave her the queasy feeling of having her heart plummet deep into her bowels, but also emitted the harshest, loudest, most annoying "beep" every time it stopped at a designated floor. Normally, the sound was nothing more than a slight nuisance, but in Shion's inebriated state, every "beep" felt like a double-headed axe plunging deep into her throbbing skull. She had to go to the penthouse...the elevator was crowded...she was in for a lot of stops...
After the 67th "beep" she thought her head was going to split open. She was so irritated she felt she would murder the next person who so much as breathed too close to her. And she was about to meet her employer...One of the most powerful men in the cosmos. Stupid Allen and his stupid wild party...
The elevator finally lurched to its final stop at the 317th floor, emitting one last, head-splitting "beep." Shion hurtled out of it swearing to all that was holy that she would never drink again. Upon entering the president's office (which looked simple enough but was in fact the most expensive/luxurious office in the Dammerung), he seemed delighted to see her. Although she doubted anyone would be really delighted to see her, considering she looked like something an excavation team dug up from some decrepit ancient ruins.
"Ah, Miss Uzuki, thank you for your promptness. Please, have a seat." He motioned for her to sit in front of his desk with all the coolness in the world.
She walked over gingerly, careful where she placed her feet, and grabbed the chair's armrest, lowering herself gently into the seat, trying her best not to reveal to Vector's President that she was still rather drunk.
"So," he smiled, after looking at her for a fraction of a second longer than normal, "How are you feeling?"
Like shit warmed over, she thought. "Oh, very well, thank you, Mr. President. I'm just a little tired." She smiled and blinked the grogginess out of her vision.
"Please, no formalities. Call me Wilhelm." He smiled and his red eyes were calm and friendly, in a creepy sort of way.
Call me drunk as a monkey. "Very well, Wilhelm. May I ask what the reason is for this honor?" She hoped the sarcasm in her voice wasn't as thick as her liver.
"Of course," He smiled his oh-so-creepy smile again, "But first let me ask you, are you familiar with the event that will take place a month from now?"
She racked her intoxicated brain, having trouble figuring out just what next month was, or which month she was in, or all the months in general for that matter. By a sheer stroke of luck, (and the screaming voice in her head that told her not to make herself look stupid in front of Vector's President), she stumbled upon the date:
"Yes!" She cried, a little too excitedly, "The Fifth Jerusalem Software Exposition will take place a month from now. It's the most important convention in our business."
He nodded, "That's correct. I think it's obvious what Vector will be revealing this year at the convention..." He winked at her.
Shion knew he was alluding to the project she was Chief Engineer of, the KOS-MOS Project Something Something Something (the full name of it didn't come to her at the time.) She merely nodded in understanding. The KOS-MOS Project Something Something Something was responsible for creating Vector's new humanoid Anti-Gnosis weapon, and was very much hush-hush. Nobody except for her team and Wilhelm knew of all the details. Most people still thought the project involved a really big gun.
"Your enthusiasm pleases me," Wilhelm told her, "and I will tell you why shortly. But first," he folded his hands neatly on his lap (she tried to do the same, but gave up after she found it too complicated), "I'd like to ask another question–"
Crap.
"–How many planets in our galaxy are capable of supporting human life?"
Huh? Where the heck did that come from? "Uh...I believe 500,000 planets capable of supporting sentient human life are under autonomous rule within the Federation." She blinked, surprised that she could use advanced vocabulary while drunk but couldn't fold her fingers.
"Very good. However, and this is shocking, on how many planets did life spontaneously originate?"
"One." She said proudly, "Lost Jerusalem is—er, was—the cradle of human life, but its whereabouts are unknown to mankind now...that's why it's lost." Oh yeah! Go Shion, incredibly smart even during the aftereffects a drunken stupor.
"Right again." He paused, his eyes shining, and he leaned closer to her, lowering his voice, "What if I told you that my sources have reason to believe they've found Lost Jerusalem in the third quadrant of our galaxy?"
She gaped, her intoxication momentarily melting away at the magnitude of his statement, "That would mean you'd have made the single most important discovery of the millennium."
He nodded, allowing his curly white hair to bob around his face, "Do you have any idea what kind of fortune that discovery would bring to this company?" He asked her, his voice still confidentially low, his eyes glowing.
"I could imagine." She breathed, awestruck.
"Vector's power and influence would increase ten-fold, our affiliates would prosper, our stocks would soar, our products would monopolize that market, and—"
My salary would triple!
"—our opposition would weaken, wither, and die." His eyes burned with a fiery rage. In an age where war was obsolete, "war" took on the form of competition between big businesses. One's loyalty to a country was replaced with one's loyalty to a company, and one was expected to give his or her all for that company, to ensure its victory and its well-being. This was the predominant philosophy in Shion's age.
Shion shared Wilhelm's excitement but was confused, "That's unbelievable, but...What does any of that have to do with me?" She asked as her throbbing headache returned to her like a brick in the face.
"I'm glad you asked. First of all, I must tell you that we're not the only ones who think they know where Lost Jerusalem is. Our enemies—er, competitors—have a very good idea as well. We must not allow them to discover Lost Jerusalem's location before we do, since that would mean Vector's certain death. More specifically, you must not allow our competitors to steal the spoils of the discovery from us."
Oh double crap. She didn't where this was going, "Uh...I'm not sure I understand..." Her brow furrowed above her bloodshot eyes.
He merely smiled, "Do you remember last year's Software Exposition?"
She did. Vector's upgraded, auto-flushing, voice activated flying toilets—the apex of First Division's creative endeavors last year—had not been very successful, and had dealt a huge blow to the company's stocks and all-around credibility. Shion had thought it a little weird that Vector had advertised to the galaxy something that people crapped in. Her colleagues had affectionately dubbed last year's convention as "shitty."
"I do. Is it safe to assume that Vector didn't preform as well as we had all hoped?"
"Yes it is. That is why I am sending you, along with a few other important members of the KOS-MOS Project, to the convention on Fifth Jerusalem this year."
She gaped.
"As Chief Engineer, you will be responsible for compiling an interesting, exciting, and stimulating presentation about KOS-MOS during the convention, as well as preforming a Gnosis-simulating Encephalon Dive with her which will be broadcast throughout the galaxy, displaying her abilities and weapons systems. Members of Advertising and Production will be helping you with the presentation, of course."
Shion's hung-over face scowled. She was an engineer, not a commercial director. This little presentation had big business theatrics written all over it: Vector's plan to sway the public over to its side with flashy fireworks and an Encephalon action-movie showing off KOS-MOS destroying Gnosis. It rather disgusted her, "I'm flattered you chose me, Wilhelm, but I'm not–"
"I obviously understand that this is not part of your job contract, so you will be given a very handsome bonus for your efforts."
Then again, there was nothing wrong with a little bit of advertisement, "Um...well, thank you, but I still don't understand what any of this has to do with Lost Jerusalem."
His eyes glowed again as he smiled, "If the Software Exposition goes well, then all eyes will be on KOS-MOS—and Vector. That will give us the perfect opportunity to make an earth-shattering discovery. If KOS-MOS is the one to discover Lost Jerusalem..." He let her finish the though.
"Oh, I get it." She wasn't that drunk, "It would be like a one-two punch. Set the galaxy's eyes on KOS-MOS, and then have her do something that will go down forever in the history of humanity. Our competitors would never be able to recover from the blow, and–"
"–Vector's power and influence would exceed even that of the Executive Committee." Wilhelm breathed dreamily, a very disconcerting gleam in his eye.
"R-right." Her throbbing brain nudged her on, "But how would KOS-MOS discover Lost Jerusalem?"
"You don't need to worry about that. It will be arranged."
Her annoying conscience forced her to open her mouth in protest, "That sounds a bit like a set-up though. I mean, it seems as if Vector is only trying to reveal Lost Jerusalem's location for personal profit rather than for the benefit of mankind."
"Miss Uzuki," Wilhelm stared her down coldly, and his eyes flared, "the business world is not a place for bleeding-hearts. Do you not wish for the success of Vector Industries?"
"Of course, but—"
"Then please understand this: whoever makes the discovery—be it Vector, Kukai, Hasegawa, or Dawson Pharmaceuticals—will drive all its other competitors into the ground and have complete freedom over the market. If we do not succeed, we will die. If we make the discovery, we will live. If a well-advertised KOS-MOS makes the discovery, we will prosper forever. We have no choice but to fight for supremacy."
She nodded weakly. Even though something deep inside her screamed of foul-play, she didn't dare go against her president. His eyes showed a fearsome killer who would crush all those who stood in his way.
"I see." She tried to smile without looking too drunk, "So...When do I leave?"
Wilhelm's gaze immediately softened, and he was friendly again, happy they now saw eye-to-eye, "In three weeks' time, the warship Woglinde will take you and your team to Fifth Jerusalem. In light of the increasing Gnosis attacks, I have arranged for Federation ships to escort you."
She nodded, miraculously getting up without stumbling, "Very well. I'll go inform my team."
"Excellent." He got up as well and walked her to the door, "I think very highly of you, Miss Uzuki. You are an incredible engineer—one of the best. That is why you will be representing Vector at the Software Exposition–"
She knew where he was headed, "I won't let you down." She asserted, trying her hardest to ignore the room that spun mercilessly around her.
A wide smile spread across his face, and he dismissed her.
—
"The Fifth Jerusalem Software Exposition!" Allen gasped. He and Shion sat at a table in the First Division food court as she briefed him on their new mission.
"Yup. We need to make a presentation for KOS-MOS. And I have to do an Encephalon Dive with her that will be broadcast throughout the entirety of the U.M.N.."
He gaped at her, "You're going to fight Gnosis on galactic television? Are you nervous?" "Not really," she responded cooly as the thought of it nearly made her wet her pants, "I've done test dives with KOS-MOS dozens of times. The one at the convention should be no different, just a little flashier so the general public will go 'ooh and ah'."
He nodded, somewhat enamored by her courage, "Who else is going to the convention?" He asked nonchalantly, hoping the answer would be 'just you.'
"Actually..." She pulled out her Communicator and accessed the list of Vector employees that would be boarding the Woglinde for Fifth Jerusalem, "Not a lot. Three guys from advertising and the Vice President of Production, but other than that, it's just you and me from the KOS-MOS Project."
Allen's eyes seemed to light up the room.
"Oh, no. Wait, there's someone else. I missed her because she works in Second Division now." Shion smiled, "As a matter of fact, she should be meeting us here any minute now."
His romantic fantasy of the two of them sharing their living quarters together on the Woglinde crumbled like trash in a garbage truck, "Oh. I see." He muttered, crestfallen, "So...who is she—" But he was interrupted as the food court's doors whizzed open, and in rushed a former First Division programmer.
"Oh God no..." Allen recoiled.
"SHION!" Myuki Itsumi, the company's hyper, caffeine-saturated, happy-go-lucky dynamo raced towards her friend, knocking over benches before hurling her arms around Shion's neck with the force of a bullet train.
"Oh my God!" She squealed, "Did you hear the news? Isn't this exciting? I—Allen, move over—" Myuki knocked Allen of his bench and took her place in front of Shion, "Can you believe it? We're going to the Software Expo on Fifth Jerusalem! Wilhelm only sends the best of the best there!"
Really? I didn't know that..." Shion said, trying to be friendly but secretly wishing Myuki would tone it down a notch; the high pitched voice was a horror for her hangover.
"Yeah! Our salaries are going to skyrocket! Going to the expo is like, the biggest honor for those who work at Vector!" She cried out happily, very loudly (to Shion's annoyance).
"At least I'll finally have good credit." Allen grumbled, picking himself off the floor.
"Oh, happy birthday, by the way!" Myuki chirped, "Awesome party last night, it was wild!"
"Yeah, about last night, thanks for destroying all my fine China."
Myuki blushed sheepishly, remembering the game of tag-frisbee she had played with Allen's delicate plates, "Oh...right. Sorry about that."
Shion laughed, but then her eye caught a familiar face in the crowd of Vector employees jostling for tables, and she quickly hid her face behind her menu. The Marketing Director walked past her table and winked at her.
"Ooh, Shion! He's really hot! Congrats!" Myuki gushed.
"Who?" Allen asked, oblivious.
Myuki ignored him, "He's been going on and on about last night! Apparently you—"
"Don't remind me!" Shion scowled, "That was so unprofessional and irresponsible. I'm shamefully embarrassed!"
"What? What happened last night?" Allen asked again, more frantic now.
"Well, either way," Myuki began, (ignoring him once more), addressing Shion, "He's got a...flattering picture of you on his desktop. Says he wants your number!"
Shion's stomach lurched, "Well don't give it to him!—"
"WHO WANTS YOUR NUMBER?"
"Allen!" Shion winced, holding her head in pain, "Don't yell! God, how are you people not in an agonizing hangover right now? I feel like there's a jackhammer ripping up my brain, and both of you drank way more than I did last night!"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Allen's face went blank, "Vector released a legal version of the hangover pill—won't save your liver but it'll stop the headache. I distributed them last night at the party. Myuki and I took them this morning..." His voice trailed off.
Shion glared at him in a way that would have scared the Devil. And here she had been suffering for hours!
"Er...I thought you knew about them—" He began.
"GIVE ME THE GODDAMNED PILLS!"
—
Five hours and two cups of coffee later, Shion, Allen, and Myuki were busy working (mostly) in KOS-MOS's Development Laboratory, running some tests on her external mainframe. Myuki had taken the liberty of lingering around First Division (and anywhere else she wanted) since she was one of the chosen few that would be boarding the Woglinde in three weeks; this, for her, excused her from all and any type of work she would have to do until then.
"Well, Chief, her upgrades are done." Allen said as he reported to Shion, referring to KOS-MOS's mainframe.
"Good," She yawned. The hangover was gone, but not the fatigue due to little sleep, "Who installed the upgrades?"
"Uh...I did." Allen nervously averted his gaze.
"What?" Shion glared at him, "Allen, you know how I feel about you making aesthetic upgrades to KOS-MOS's mainframe. Especially after what happened last time!"
"What? What happened last time?" Myuki inquired.
"Don't you remember? What Allen and Kevin—rest his soul—conspired to do during KOS-MOS's construction?"
"Ohh..."
She remembered. Who could forget? In the early days of KOS-MOS's development, Allen, Kevin, and a few other male members of the team got together in a less-then-sober state of mind and drew up KOS-MOS's first prototype. Shion stumbled on their notes by accident. The blueprint read something like this:
KOS-MOS MUST HAVE:
1) Huge well-developed breasts
2) Soft, long, lustrous hair
3) Long shapely legs
4) Svelte body w/flawless skin
5) Perpetual pout; strut like a model
Small drops of what looked like drool littered the bottom of the page. At least she hoped it was drool. Needless to say, Shion was none too happy, and she terminated the perverted tradition as soon as she became Chief Engineer of the project. Despite her efforts, KOS-MOS did wind up with all the aforementioned qualities.
"Heh, heh, heh, we were just playing around..." Allen muttered sheepishly, handing Shion the blueprint of KOS-MOS's recent upgrades (which had no mention of breasts anywhere.)
"Playing with yourselves is more like it." Myuki scoffed, sitting down at a computer where she planned to do absolutely no work, much like everybody else, "At least that wasn't as bad as the time you guys trapped Shion in the Encephalon with a horny KOS-MOS!"
"God," Shion scowled, remembering the trying experience, "I was so pissed. Heads flew that day!"
It had been another drab day in the First Division offices when the men on the Development Team once again were eager for some sexual stimulation, so they tweaked some of KOS-MOS's behavioral circuits behind Shion's back, and watched wide-eyed when she and KOS-MOS dove into the Encephalon to run some battle tests. Shion remembered with loathing their conversation in the Dive:
"The enemies have been exterminated. Shion, I need to be cleaned."
"What? But I just waxed you two hours ago."
"I need you to wax my body again."
"Why?"
"I am very dirty, Shion."
"Wh—"
"My sexy appearance is up 20. Naughtiness drives increasing."
"...Huh!"
"Shion, I need to be spanked."
"WHAT!"
"I had no part in that reprogramming!" Allen shouted, interrupting her thoughts while lying shamefully through his teeth, "I wasn't even watching! I was worried about you!"
"Really?" Shion leered at him and gave him a 'you're so full of crap' look, "Then why didn't you pull me out of the Dive when KOS-MOS started groping my ass?"
"Ha, ha! That was so funny!"
Shion looked up. The entire team had decided they were tired of doing nothing and had gathered around Shion, Allen, and Myuki for a trip down memory lane.
"Is that so?" She eyed the outspoken, disrespectful colleague with a disapproving look.
"Hey Ridgely, great party last night!" Someone else called out.
"Yeah, that was wicked!" Yet another person chimed in, "Did you see the pictures of Uzuki naked? That marketing guy is handing them ou—oh shit! She's here..." An unfortunate colleague's voice died out immediately.
Shion, mortified but enraged, got up to her feet, "Well everyone, I'm glad you're all here—no don't leave, I have an announcement to make. First of all I'd like to say how impressed I am with the work ethic of this team. You all diligently finished your work so fast today that you found enough time to have a foosball tournament while I was speaking with the president of this company. Perhaps I'm being a negligent chief? Perhaps I've not challenged you enough. That's why I want everybody to compile a 50-page, succinct, exciting, and informative script for my presentation at the Software Exposition. I want the script to be complete with charts, statistics, quotes, and easy-to-read, public-friendly material, and I want it no my desk by tomorrow morning—proofread and flawless. Anybody who does not contribute to the script will be sacked immediately."
A dull, fearful silence fell on the laboratory, with the exception of Myuki, who was now watching the scene as if it were a horror movie and Shion was the monster about to drink everybody's blood.
"And one more thing," she scowled, "if any of you ever decide to pull a fast one on me while I'm absent or not feeling well, whether it be sitting on your asses twiddling your thumbs or playing foosball, I will fire you so fast and blast your resumes so efficiently that you won't find work in this quadrant of the galaxy ever again." She headed for the exit, "Have fun staying up all night writing that script."
"Chief..." Allen whined, realizing he was not exempt, "What are you doing?"
"What am I doing? This is me being the Chief Engineer of First Division telling my lazy employees to get their asses in gear, because I'm the boss, they've all misbehaved, so tonight they'll work until the wee hours of the morning while I sleep."
"Go Shion! Go Shion..." Myuki cheered, the only one in the room not under Shion's ruling fist, and thus the only one who could laugh at everybody's expense.
"One last thing!" Shion scowled, facing her employees, "If those pictures of me aren't destroyed by tomorrow, you can all kiss your Christmas bonuses goodbye. And for the record, I didn't sleep with anybody last night. We made out for an hour and a half, then he passed out. The Marketing Director is impotent. Feel free to spread that around on the company forums!" She cackled happily and left the lab.
—
Three weeks later, the lucky Vector employees chosen to represent their company at the Fifth Jerusalem Software Exposition presented themselves at 4:30 A.M. (much to everybody's intense displeasure) at the Dammerung's Spaceport, ready to board the sleek warship Woglinde. Shion thought if someone didn't get her a cup of coffee in the next five seconds she would rip Allen's head off and start eating it. Her already disgruntled mood was made worse by the discovery that, due to Vector's pathetic performance at last year's convention and some unfortunate Federation cutbacks, the Woglinde would not be given a Federation escort to Fifth Jerusalem. Which meant that in the very likely event of a Gnosis attack, the Woglinde's passengers would have to put their heads between their legs and kiss their butts goodbye.
That's what most people thought anyway, since they didn't know KOS-MOS would be on the Woglinde as well, even though she was being carried in a conspicuous nine-foot long casket-like, glowing maintenance bed. The KOS-MOS Project was very hush-hush. It was apparently so hush-hush that not even the security guards on the Woglinde knew about it.
"Hold it." One of them said, as Allen attempted to board the warship rolling in KOS-MOS on her nine-foot long maintenance bed, "What's in there?"
"Uh..." Allen mumbled. He wasn't very good at thinking quickly on his feet (or sitting down, for that matter), "Potatoes."
The guard raised an eyebrow, "Potatoes?" He said as he gazed at the softly pulsating maintenance bed.
"Y-yeah. T-this is the food for the Vector employees on the Woglinde." He blubbered. Was inter-stellar ship security lax enough to believe him?
"Oh..." The guard gave an understanding nod. Yup. "Right. Ok, welcome aboard. We'll take it from here." And he carted said "potatoes" to the Woglinde's kitchen.
—
"Alright Chief. Here's your coffee."
Shion ripped the cup from Allen's hands and drank the sacred liquid greedily, "Allen, you're the best." She breathed in between gulps.
His face took an the hue of a tomato very quickly, "Um...well...you know...it was nothing!" A stupid smile crossed his face, "Sorry if they only had decaff."
She stopped drinking, glared at him coldly, and tossed her half-drunken cup of coffee into a nearby trash can before slumping in her seat. She and Myuki lay slouched in the Woglinde's business lounge (given the term "lounge" because it had a couch, a U.M.N. Terminal, and a little droid who brewed decaffeinated coffee.) Shion figured they would be spending most of their time in the lounge, since their individual cabins were not much bigger than a shoe box.
"Hey, look at this," Myuki said. She was reading an electronic newspaper on her Communicator (actually, she was reading the funnies, but a stray headline caught her attention), "They're closing down Moby Dick's on Second Milita."
"What!" Shion climbed over Allen, who had just sat down next to her, squashing his crotch beneath her knee, and peered over Myuki's shoulder at the newspaper, "That restaurant has been around for hundreds of years! I grew up in that place...Why are they closing it down?"
"AAAHHH! Ch-chief! M-my..."
"It says here a company bought it out." Myuki told her, "They plan to put up a mall or something in the restaurant's place."
Shion sighed softly, "What a pity. Who bought Moby Dick out of business?"
Myuki scanned her Communicator, and her eyes froze, disgusted, "The Kukai Foundation." She spat.
A chill ran down their spines. The Kukai Foundation was Vector's number one enemy...er...competitor. Not only did it threaten Vector across the board in every market, but it had also made Vector look pathetic at least year's convention. The Kukai Foundation had walked away from the expo with great praise, basking in the glow of Vector's humiliation. The deep loathing rivalry between Vector Industries and Kukai stretched back hundreds of years when Kukai refused to contribute to Vector's "Save the Semi-Retarded Monkeys Fund." The fact that nobody else contributed to the fund did not excuse the Kukai Foundation from its heartless, inhumane, and outrageous behavior.
"Bastards." Shion muttered, childhood memories of dinners spent at Moby Dick's flooded her.
"I'm sorry, Shion." Allen muttered, deciding this was a wonderful opportunity to put his arm around her.
She shrugged it off, "We have to beat the pants of Kukai this year!" She declared, ignoring a heartbroken Allen.
"Of course we will," Myuki said reassuringly, "we have KOS-MOS! Nobody can top that. We'll drive our competition into the ground at the Software Expo; we'll have our clients eating out of our hands!"
"I hope so," Shion said resolutely, "But considering we need a flawless presentation in order to pull this all off and we're two weeks behind schedule, and the script my team wrote for me is a cheesy piece of crap, we better get to work."
—
Later that night, Shion stumbled groggily into the Woglinde's main kitchen for a glass of water and unleashed such a loud, blood-curdling scream that half the ship woke up and Allen was by her side in three seconds.
"Chief! What's wrong?"
She stood aghast, pointing at the horror beside her but not looking at it, "Allen...I don't know how she got in there, and you're lucky I'm not firing you for this, but could you please get KOS-MOS out of the refrigerator!"
"Um...well...er...yes, right away."
"And take off the sign labeled "potatoes" that's stuck to her forehead, will you?"
"Absolutely." He blushed terribly.
She breathed deeply, grabbed her glass of water, and returned to her bed. It was a three day trip through hyperspace to Fifth Jerusalem. She would be trapped on a warship with Allen and Myuki for three long days and three even linger nights. Maybe she should turn herself in now, because she knew she would wring someone's neck before they even crossed the first hyperspace column.
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If you come away laughing, then this story has served its purpose. Next chapter (whose next posting date is unknown, but I will do my best) will be the (un)peaceful trip to Fifth Jerusalem.
Tell me what you think, since I've decided to write something completely different. R/R!