Sorry about the wait! I had no internet and computer access for a while, so I'll do two drabbles for the next few days so I can catch up. This request was for the Karyuu crew in the prompt snowmen.
Despite what Marina professed in her rants, productivity aboard the ship did not always come to a standstill. Every time she paced the length of my room, I reminded her how the men took their jobs seriously and missions generally went off without a hitch.
But sometimes the men made it difficult for me to stand up for them. As the bay doors opened, a blast of snow and thin, chilled air greeted me like a slap to the face. I nabbed the brim of my hat before it could fly off, while the lift lowered me into the planet's snowy surface. Though it was far from an ideal stop for repairs, the hole punched through our hull left us little room to be picky. The sooner we fixed it, the sooner we could head out to the next mission, which was exactly why the men were stalling.
I heard them before I saw them, laughter carried along by the wind. Their footsteps crunched in the snow while they tossed jokes back and forth like snowballs. I spotted them scattered across the ground, rolling snow into what appeared to be pieces for the dozen snowmen added to their ranks. Not one of them worked on patching the hole. They were all too busy having fun. I wasn't sure I could fault them for that.
I walked over to them, hands stuffed in my pockets to keep feelings in my fingers. The snow swallowed my feet until I reached the circle the men carved out from rolling it up. The base of each snowman reached my hip or higher. Those with heads stood taller than Grenadier, who appeared to be the leader of this whole operation. He barked orders to the rest, directing them in their task. From what I could see, each snowman followed a pre-planned format. Each face, thrown together with spare pieces, had a unique expression. One had eyebrows made from electrical tape. Another sported a mustache with the help of a few wires. I couldn't say they weren't creative.
But productivity was definitely at a standstill. I strode over to Grenadier, looked up to him, and waited for an explanation. He took little notice of me at first, only turning my way when he realized I wasn't moving. "Need something, Captain?" he asked as though nothing abnormal was happening around us.
"I do need that hole fixed," I said, tilting my head toward the damage. "I'd prefer it was done before the ship fills with snow."
He smiled and shrugged it off. "Ah, it'll melt."
At this rate I could already hear Marina grumbling an "I told you so." I heard that from her enough without this incidence to help.
"Look," I sighed. "I'm glad you're all having fun, but if we don't get going soon, our bosses will be chewing me out for an explanation. I am too sober right now to deal with the chairwoman and Marina telling me off."
"So Marina counts as one of your bosses?" he asked with a grin. Before I could find the words to shut him up, he turned his attentions back to the men. "Make sure to put angry eyebrows on the captain's too." I turned back to look only for a burst of wind to blow through my hair. Frantic, I grasped for my hat and spun around to find it in Grenadier's hand. "And since he's here, we can put this on it too," he said. "We still need a carrot or something for his nose though."
None of the other snowmen had anything resembling carrot noses. I placed my hand across my face to cover the blush heating up my face as I realized what was going on. "Do not make a snowman of me," I hissed.
"Why not?" Grenadier asked. "We made one of Marina." He cocked his thumb toward a particularly angry-looking snowman with snarling teeth made of nails. If she found out, we were all dead.
I reached up to grab my hat back, but he held it out of reach and placed his hand on the top of my head to keep me down like some schoolyard bully. "You could at least try to make them flattering," I snapped as I pawed for my hat.
"I think accuracy is better." One of the men came to take the hat from him, and I followed its course to the head of a pouting snowman. Then the men jammed a screwdriver in the middle of its face, so the handle stuck out for the nose.
"You're all fired," I muttered.
Marina came out a few minutes later and screeched the same thing, sending them men scurrying back to repairs. She examined each snowman with little more than a curious frown, pausing when she found mine. "He's cute," she said as she took the hat down to dust away the snow. "You're practically twins."