Galaxy Corps Interactive Fiction: Corann and Mijara...?

System Error - Corann and Mijara...?

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Corann and Mijara...? (18/07/00 )

Dr. T’ran led her charge, Corann Xo, to a lift, and tapped the button to call it. “The temporary quarters are a deck below the main crew area,” she commented. “They’re not all that exciting—is there a certain reason you wanted to stay on board VDS1 instead of back on the Patriot?”

“Trying to get me to leave before I even get here? Getting a bit hasty there, aren’t we? I just wanted a larger amount of space, that’s all.” Corann replied coolly.

T’ran blinked. “Surely you know that’s not how I meant, Ensign.” The lift arrived, and they stepped inside. T’ran keyed for Deck 4 and stood against the lift wall, looking bemusedly at Corann, or at least at his unusual “uniform.”

“So, how’s it feel staying in the same place for most of your life? Doesn’t it get boring just sleeping and working?” Corann said while brandishing his earring.

The Doctor shook her head. “I’d hardly call it ‘just sleeping and working,’ Ensign. As a station doctor, things are always changing for me, whether it’s tending to a group returning from a mission, or examining the physiologies of new races.” She smiled slightly. “And besides, though you might not have known, I do pilot a Mek whenever I get the chance.”

“Ah, so I see, you work and pilot a Mek. No sleeping involved here, huh?” Corann smiled wryly.

That comment actually brought a full, though lopsided, smile. “Some days, that’s certainly the case. I’m sure I’ll have my hands full long into the night, once people start returning from this current operation.”

“You sure don’t show much confidence in your own Corps, do you?” Corann made a sort of a worried smile. “Well hopefully you won’t be too full of jobs to visit my brand new quarters?”

T’ran shrugged. “I have the utmost of confidence in the Corps, Ensign, but I don’t delude myself about the reality of war.” She raised an eyebrow as the lift stopped and released them onto the lower crew deck. “As for visiting you, what, do you plan on getting badly hurt in there?” She smiled wryly, brushing a strand of hair back behind her right ear. “I don’t make house calls except in emergencies.”

“If you really need me to I can stick my head in an open conduit for you… I can’t say that I’d enjoy the experience, but the time afterwards would be nice.” Corann smiled.

The Doctor looked at the young man skeptically. “I wouldn’t recommend it.” She stopped next to a plain-looking door, the same type as any of those that lined the corridor. A Vendorian tech strolled past, nodding to the Doctor. She gestured at the door. “I believe this is your assigned room, Ensign Xo.”

Corann pressed the open button on the door and stepped in. “Well, I see why they call this the ‘lower crew’ deck.” He stepped inside and looked around the humble abode, and began unpacking his backpack. He pulled out several medals and a very small photo album, along with some emergency rations and his holdout blaster pistol. “Don’t worry, the safety’s on.” Corann picked up one of the emergency rations, and smiled. “If I eat one of these, does that mean I have an emergency?”

T’ran leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t think so, Ensign. Unless that thing is contaminated somehow, in which case you might end up with one.”

“I’m thinking it would be bad to have a contaminated emergency ration…” he unwrapped the small cracker-looking food product, and looked it over. He took a bite from the ration and chewed for some time. “Well… the skin on my throat is boiling off, and my stomach is beginning to feel nauseous, but I guess that’s just common side effects from eating an emergency ration, huh?”

She chuckled. “If you’re not used to them, maybe.” She glanced at her wristcom’s chronometer. “Are you settled in well enough, then?”

He kept unloading his backpack, taking out some clothes, then stopped as he came to one sweatshirt. He threw it on over his current shirt. The shirt said in bold letters “Kiss me, I’m a Kalai!” Corann smiled as he pulled out some various pictures. “Oh, yes, I guess I’m all settled in. It really would be nice if you would grace me with your presence though.” He finally took out the last object, which was a picture of two older humans, one female and one male, standing in front of the Kaliar Museum of Arts, holding a young child.

“Well… perhaps a bit longer.” With one last glance at the time, T’ran took a step into the room, looking as amusedly as ever at the various items Corann was producing from his luggage. “Pictures of your family?”—the usual Human conversation-starter.

“No, not all of them. Most of them are just pictures of various places I’ve visited, and this one,” Corann pointed to the small album on the table, “is of random people I’ve met on stations during our travels.”

“Impressive.” Then she understood, as the door slid shut behind her. “And I suppose you’re looking to acquire a snapshot of me as well...?” This was certainly an unusual situation for her, but it was endlessly amusing, so she played along.

“Usually the people just give their pictures to me. I’m not even quite sure why, a lot of the times, but getting your picture in here too would be nice.” Corann sorted through his backpack, looking for his PicCam 2000, as the Doctor watched him with silent curiosity. He picked out a small round device with a lens on the front, with a small tripod stand that came out from the bottom after being activated. He placed it on the transparent table in front of him. “There it is.”

She looked at the camera, and stole a glance at the album next to it. For a “random” bunch of space station personnel, the assortment was rather heavily female. Almost universally, as a matter of fact. She folded her arms. “So what do you want, a pose?” J’or. She hadn’t been in a situation like this since she’d attended the University.

“Just what ever feels comfortable for you. And of course if you have something against getting your picture taken, or you don’t feel comfortable being asked to get your picture taken, then we may move on to a different subject.” Corann readied the camera and sat back in the opposite chair.

“Hardly, Ensign.” She kept her arms folded and shifted to a more relaxed stance, looking at the camera with a faint but expressive smile. Briefly she considered doing something more girlish, but that of course was silly. It was strange enough that she, an officer, was in here at all. “Fire when ready, Mr. Xo.”

Corann picked up his holdout blaster and pointed it in T’ran’s direction, taking the safety off. Stunned, she stayed in place, staring wide-eyed at the weapon, her mind racing for an explanation. “Ensign?…” Surely this had to be a joke…

He quickly turned on the safety and tapped the “Take Picture” button on the PicCam 2000 with the barrel of the gun, taking the picture with her wide-eyed stare still in place. Corann smiled, “Sorry, I had to do it.”

Dr. T’ran let out the breath she’d been holding, and glared at the grinning Human for a moment. Then she shook her head and backed out of the room, tapping the door switch with the heel of her hand. “Farewell, Mr. Xo. I hope you enjoy what you got out of that.” And don’t blackmail me with it, either, she thought with dark humor, as the door closed.

Suffice it to say, even the University hadn’t had anyone quite like Corann Xo.