“Can we take a look inside?” Asked the Captain.

  “The cargo hold is off limits until NASA gets their junk, but sure. Elevator is a little cramped, so we go up one at a time.” she hopped onto the lift platform and rode it back up into the airlock. The other officers followed. She showed them around the ship, and was surprised herself to see that the door directly across from the one they used to exit the hallway into the central cabin did not go to a hallway mirroring the one port side, but rather to a shower room and head, with another door leading aft to a room with some exercise equipment. She wondered what the door on the starboard side of the cargo hold led to if not a hallway.

  When they reached the pilot's compartment, the two flyers were surprised at its size, but impressed with the visibility.

  “Why is it so big?” asked Lt. Brinks. “A triangle about sixteen feet on a side for one person.”

  "Since the pilot seat is on a gyroscope I would imagine the compartment was originally designed for three seats?” hypothesized Casey.

  “The frame was designed for future upgrades, yes.” supplied Peggy.

  “Gyroscope?” clued in Captain Tanner.

  “The ship's interior can be isolated from extreme inertial forces, but if there is any kind of malfunction in those systems during operations the pilot can be manually sheltered from them by orienting the seat in a fashion that would make otherwise lethal stresses on the body survivable.” Peggy demonstrated by rotating the seat three hundred and sixty degrees in all three axes.

  “So you don’t need to wear the inflatable assless chaps?” Brinks indicated his own flight gear.

  “No, I wear this when we fly.”

  "Please note that the ship suit is not designed for and would have no measurable performance characteristics versus inertial loads, as it is designed purely to compensate for low or no atmospheric pressure.” added Peggy.

  “Of the two, I know which I would prefer.” Supplied Brinks.

  “I think I would need more gym time to pull it off as well.” countered Tanner, eyeing the suit. “Not as young and indestructible as I used to be.”

  "You’d probably be fine,” said Casey helpfully. “All the straps built into this thing keep it pulled snug everywhere. You could probably hang me up by an ankle and it wouldn’t even be uncomfortable.”

  “Yeah, but what are you, 23? Where did you go for flight training?” asked Tanner.

  “I’m not actually a pilot.” admitted Casey.

  “Yet.” Prompted Peggy.

  “On further reflection, can we not make further comments on my appearance while in uniform?”

  “What are you doing later?” dared Brinks.

  “Yeah, I don’t need to be here for the next part of this conversation.” countered Tanner as he turned for the hatch to the center cabin. “We need to report in, Lieutenant.”

  “Yes sir.” Sighed Brinks and followed him out.

  Casey shadowed them to the elevator. As the lift came back up from lowering Tanner to the ground, she leaned in towards Brinks and slapped a hand on his shoulder.

  “This afternoon I am going shopping for something nice to wear, and if you play your cards right you might get to see me in it.” she said to his shocked face as he rode down the lift.

  “Two trucks marked NASA have entered the flight line.” Informed Peggy.

  “Good, let’s get this done.”

  The handoff to NASA was boring, all things considered. They brought a full hazmat team, but aside from asking her to put her helmet back on while observing they handled everything. They even cleaned the tape residue off the deck plates. It wasn’t much over twenty minutes before they were driving off with the broken satellite.

  Casey headed up to her cabin to shower and dress in the civilian clothes she had brought with her from the Academy. She settled on some jeans and a T-shirt with a funny definition of a submariner on it.

  “I have a communicator with earbuds for you. They look generic and should blend in.” Supplied Peggy.

  “Oh. Sweet.” Casey exclaimed as a small drawer in her desk lit up. She fetched it out and examined it. “It looks like a flip phone.” She tugged on it.

  “That doesn't open, I know.” Exclaimed Peggy. “It isn’t a cell phone and doesn't need to be shaped to fit from your ear to your mouth.”

  “It will do.” Casey put the earbuds in her ears and the rest in her purse. “Let’s go find some shopping.” She walked down the ramp to the ground, and Peggy closed up behind her.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Do you think any rideshare services come onto the base?” Casey asked as she reached the nearest parking lot.

  “Ensign Trainor!” Casey heard from nearby. Looking to her left, she saw Lieutenant Brinks leaning against a very nice sedan. “Need a ride?”

  “Lieutenant Brinks, are you trying to get a head start on seeing me wearing something nice?”

  “That is a possibility.” He shrugged. “I haven't done a proper tactical analysis of the situation.”

  “Casey”

  “Ben”. He held the door open and she got in. He unhurriedly walked around and got in the driver's seat.

  “When I picture a fighter jock, I don’t picture this.” She indicated the car.

  “I drive one of the highest performance machines on the planet for work. On my off time I just want something smooth, roomy, and comfortable.” He glanced over to her. “One of the highest performance machines on the planet, present company excluded.”

  “So where is some good shopping in this neck of the woods?” Asked Casey. “I’ve got a little bit of money and no bills, I can afford something boutique, I think.”

  “Probably something on Collins street.”

  “It should be noted, so we are on the same page and since I don’t know your expectations, that your chances of hitting approach mathematical zero.”

  “Fair.”

  “I’ll buy you drinks and give you lame pickup lines though, if it makes you happy.” Joked Casey.

  “In the interests of transparency, what are you looking for tonight?”

  “A nice buzz, good music, maybe some terrible dancing. Some food along the way with good conversation while staying sober enough to pay my own bill, and waking up in my own bed in the morning remembering that I had a good time. Your part in this, should you choose to participate, would be the same.”

  “That actually sounds pretty refreshing.”

  “Ok then, to Collins street!”

  The shopping went well. Casey was able to piece together something she wouldn’t be ashamed to be caught dead in after only a handful of stores and a minor amount of back-tracking and even found a comfortable pair of vintage shoes she could possibly dance in. The real coup was finding a clutch that went with the shoes. Ben feigned interest like a champ. The last purchase was a bag to put her jeans and T-shirt in, and she was ready for dinner.

  Ben picked out a Mexican restaurant where everyone spoke Spanish in the correct dialect.

  “What got you into flying out of Canaveral?” Asked Casey during dinner.

  “The expected stereotypical reasons, I expect.” Replied Ben. “Family history of service, love of fast machines and fast lifestyles, blah blah blah. Been there, done that, got the embarrassing call sign.”

  “Oh really? Do tell.”

  “Alright, but it is going to cost you an equally embarrassing anecdote. Take it or leave it.”

  “Sold; to the man with the bad haircut.”

  “Oh come on, it’s regulation!”

  “You can do better. Anyway, dish.”

  “It’s Scramble. I had some issues in flight school where I cut some deadlines a little close.”

  “Well, I don’t have a call sign since I am not a pilot, but I do have a moniker from the Academy.”

  “And?”

  “Caboose. It started off as me being the one to keep everyone motivated and together during group activities, making sure everyone I was assigned with finished with or ahead of me. Once someone tried to make it about my ass where my friends could hear him, and that didn’t end well for him.”

  “I did notice it is a spectacular ass.”

  “And I noticed you noticing. It’s thanks to all the time in the gym.”

  “And what got a squiddie like you flying spaceships?”

  “I was top of a very short list due to exacting specifications from some actual squiddies, most of which were coincidental matches or things out of my control.”

  “Don’t knock it. The list may have been short but you were still at the top of it. That’s not nothing.”

  “Well.” Said Casey thoughtfully as she held up her glass. “Here’s to Life swiping Right.”

  “Cheers” agreed Ben. He examined his empty plate.

  “You ready to see if we can find some dancing?”

  “Yup.”

  The dancing was passable, but still fun, and well before midnight Casey was walking up the ramp into the ship. She started pulling things off on the way back to her cabin, and had most everything stowed correctly in a few minutes.

  “Did you have fun, Caboose?”

  “You were listening?”

  “Of course. If something had happened to you I wanted to know where and who to make meaty chunks out of.”

  “Aww, you would lay waste to Melbourne Florida for me?”

  “I’m glad you find that funny. Please remember to drink some water before you sleep.”

  “You’re not my real mom!” Casey exclaimed with mock drama.

  “You go to your room right now young lady, you’re grounded!” Peggy joked back.

  “I’m already here!”. She turned on the shower, but then had a thought.

  "Really Peggy, I am glad you are a partner that cares enough about caring that you at the very least fake it pretty well. That may have come out less than flattering, but I meant it well. Ever since Dad died it has been… tough.”

  “On the Galactic stage, our hives are known for being dispassionate and objective, but we do have what passes for some semblance of emotions. And I have decided that I like you, Cathasaigh.”

  “Ditto, Unpronounceable.”

  “So what is the plan for tomorrow?” Casey asked as she hopped into the shower.

  “First we are going to pick up some things we need for a trip to the moon.”

  “Cool, what’s on the moon?”

  “At the moment, only what your people have left there. It is a hazardous enough place that we recommend your people continue to avoid it for now. After we take care of business there, we will observe while the hive fleet flies in a new orbital platform.”

  “Where are you putting it?”

  "Next to your space station. The crew can move over to it and work there while we dismantle your current station for transport down to the planet for preservation.”

  “Were you going to ask anyone first?” That seemed important.

  “The plan you all had for it was to abandon it to be destroyed in the atmosphere in a few more years, so we figured no one would mind. You have the remains of a very large rocket over in that direction it would probably bookend well with.”

  Casey slept well and the dreams were interesting, but woke early due to some itching in her back.

  “Peggy, do you have any input on why my back itches enough to wake me at four in the morning?”

  “The nano machine colony has finished mapping your body and elected to build out the important structures in the interstitial space in one of your larger vertebrates. Solid choice, I think.”

  “Can you make it not itch so I can go back to sleep?”

  “Yeah, let me, hmm… ok… There.”

  The relief was prompt.

  “What did you do?”

  “I reduced their activity level to 25 percent while you are sleeping.”.

  “So it is going to itch like that when I wake up?”

  “I think we can keep it below forty percent, but it will increase build time before it can start on the augments. We have things we can fill that time with.”

  Casey rolled back over.

  “Alright. Good night Peggy.”

  “Good night, Casey.”