THE SPACE NAVY AU (18+)

You grin at him incredulously. "You two saved my life, you know! Room and board in this floating trash compactor's really the least I could do."

 

"You know what, bro, I'm starting to think you legit have no clue how nice it is here."

 

"Well, I've never been anywhere else, but I suspect you've never had to keep a transport operational with a skeleton crew and equipment dated from the last millennium. Though I suppose the new recreational area's done, by now, so that's nice, at least. Have you been there yet?"

 

"Yeah, I went yesterday, lost twenty caegars at the casino just to cross it off my list and then went to Murfey's for a sammich and a beer. I got to hear all about you an' Bel's goth night out." You grin and poke his still blingeed prosthetic.

 

"I hope you saw some pictures, too, we were gorgeous."

 

"No, do you have any? I wanna see!"

 

"You'll have to pester Bel for them, I don't think we used my phone. I bet he's printed them out in a little album somewhere."

 

"That's so cute. With a lil' spade on the cover? All puffy like a pillow." You laugh at the thought. "You gonna keep that bling on your leg?"

 

You grin at the thought, but shake your head. "No, the glue's not permanent, see?" You pull off a small yellow hopbeast and flick it at Jethro. "I figure I'll just shed kawaii little chunks all around the ship for a few weeks. Let Bel's daring fashion statement be everyone else's problem."

 

You laugh. "I bet that'll actually bother him, too. Nice table-turn."

You savor your final bite of steak, eyes closed, then set the empty plate aside with a sigh. "That was so good, dang. So -- you wanted me to take some crabs. Wanna show me how to do it without messin' up your habitat?"

 

You slide off the counter and sway, despite yourself, as fatigue hits. You're going to sleep very well today, you figure, and probably a chunk of tomorrow night as well.

"This way," you tell Jethro, and lead him off to the tide pool room. You're vain enough to lean against the door and watch his face as he takes in the high-ceilinged expanse of rock and sand and moving water.

And crabs. Way too many crabs. "If you had a box or a basket or something we could just shovel a couple score in. I'll try to flash-freeze the rest, I suppose, I need to literally decimate the population and they really don't keep."

A thought occurs. "I say, d'you think I could sell the lot to Murfey? It really is a shame to even freeze them."

 

"Oh hell yeah, I have no doubt he'd be all over that. Lemme just..." You get out your fishing gear box, dig out your collapsible crab trap and pop it into shape. "I could just set this down with a lil' bait in, let 'em climb on in themselves, then they'll be all healthy and nice until it's time to cook 'em. No rough handling, dig? If you wanna call Murfey, I can truck the trap on over there when it's full. My modus'll accept a full crab trap as a 'box', I tested."

The thought of what Murfey will do with a load of fresh crab is mouthwatering. It'll probably involve sweet-and-sour sauce and deep frying.

 

"Clever! Can I just—" You take the crab trap from him and take a number of pictures of it from different angles, then bundle them and send the file to the eggheads in the fabrication blocks with a request for about twenty. "—there. At the very least having them all cooped up will be easier on my poor fish. I expect the shrimp are all well and truly extinct by now, I'm going to have to baby my filters and play extremely nicely with the next Captain that comes through."

This accomplished, you settle yourself onto a comfortable roundish rock by the door and go text Murfey.

FG: what's the going price for hi class snak crabs and do you want a disscount
FG: becus i need to get rid of

You look around and try to construct a rough estimate.

FG: a lot

 

(erskin's handle is frightfulGardener in this au btw since he has neither flintlocks nor gallivanting)

FG: Jethro's got a crab trap he says he can run over to you
FG: but I suppose I could just tell him to Dump them in the Nearest Cafetearia if you don't want any...

 

FG: sure I'll tell him
FG: 30 caegars a pound? and free delivery

It occurs to you that perhaps you shouldn't be volunteering Jethro's services like that.

"Do you want anything for the delivery service?" you call over. "You might be able to wrangle some free drinks."

 

"Yeah, thanks for thinking of me! Tell 'im a six pack of sumpin dark, Sigs likes that oatmeal stout. That's for collectin' an' deliverin', I'll do it whenever you got extras to get rid of." You shrug happily, perched on a rock barefoot to watch the crab trap fill up. "I got free time. Ain't much call for physical therapists nor romcom writers on this ship at the mo, aside from your good self."

 

"I suppose that's a good thing! I know there were one or two plague victims that lost limbs during the latter stages, but I could see how that doesn't exactly fill up a week. Perhaps you could get a side delivery job. I wouldn't mind seeing you bring me lunch every day."

Was that inappropriate? It was probably inappropriate.

"On account of, it's just nice to see you," you fumble, which is worse. "But of course you should stick with whatever's most important. To you. Er. Professionally."

You hunch over your phone and transmit, as quickly as you can, Jethro's request for beers.

 

You look over your shoulder at him, curious whether he's teasing you, but it seems he's embarrassed himself instead. "I dunno about every day," you venture, "but I could totes bring you lunch sometimes. Just cuz."