<FWG> Re: [Shadowdancer]-untitled-

  • From: Jason Ziredac <ziredac@xxxxxxxxx>
  • To: fwgalaxy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Thu, 25 Jan 2007 22:42:37 -0800 (PST)

Well done, chap. And if you can't ever come up with a title, do what I do. Pick 
a song by some really cool band and steal its title. There are few logs of mine 
that aren't named after songs. :)

Your dialogue cracks me up sometimes, by the by.

Jet <offerings_burnt@xxxxxxxxx> wrote: *Yeah, I couldn't come up with a title. 
I know, I'm lame.*
  by Nate Farris
  "Dancer," Nate called out to, busy checking the readouts in the phaser 
control room.  Stuck repairing damaged segments of the ventral phaser array 
took nearly five hours.  Blame went to the places of the damaged systems, as if 
fate decided it was fun to damage systems at random areas instead of the whole 
thing.  His knees felt as though ice had pierced the kneecaps, freezing the 
joints and nerves that only registered a sharp needle pain.  He got up, a 
little too frustrated with the whole weapons systems, and 'Dancer's sudden 
resolve to ignore him.
  "'Dancer, hey, anytime a response I could get sure would be appreciated."
  "Christ-o-mighty, what the hell do you want now?"  If Nate wasn't so tired, 
he'd laugh at the  computer, she was too much a person than a ship.
  "I've been asking nicely you give me updates on the weapon systems.  Come 
three hours I ain't heard so much as a bleep from one of your consoles.  What 
are you doing?"  Nate reactivated the power flow to the phaser array, 
immediately the results were shown, a fifteen percent increase from the thirty 
percent power rate they were running on.  
  "Giving myself a manicure.  I didn't want to spoil your hard labor with my 
yammering, so excuse me for being a little considerate."
  "That ain't what I asked."
  "Yeah, but that ain't so bad either, so stop bitching at me will ya."
  "You know, I'm seriously thinking on reviewing what Bella's done with you."
  Nate smiled finally, making sure the  power flow wouldn't overload the 
conduits.  It was a patch job and Nate made sure the weapons were one of the 
few key systems taking priority in the long list of major repairs.  "Anyway," 
Dancer started up again, "the systems are a hell of a lot better.  Feels nice 
to know I can unload these guns without bein' made fun of."
  "Yeah, I bet."
  "How long have you been at this?"
  "Uh, a couple of hours?"  Nate shrugged, finding it amusing 'Dancer decided 
to strike a conversation after all these silent hours.  He picked up flux 
capacitor and went back under the console.
  "Try near twelve hours."
  "'Cuse me?" Nate responded loud enough over the tool.
  "Twelve hours."
  The capacitor stopped whining and Nate pushed himself out to see Dan  
standing near the entrance.  He resisted the urge to pack his tools up and 
leave.  Avoiding Dan was the best right now, and he'd been doing a perfect job 
at that.  Pushing down the nervousness, panic at Dan's sudden presence, and a 
tightening knot in his gut, Nate slid back into the console and began working 
agian.  "What do you want?"  Nate asked.
  "I need to know what exactly we'll be doing."
  "Fix the replicator, get supplies, whatever's on the list."
  "I meant about the job."

  "You'll get details later when we're there."  His anger was suddenly rising 
like an ocean building up a violent tidal wave.  Why was Dan here?  Wasn't part 
of the whole 'away from you, Nate' still going on?  
  "That ain't good enough.  You haven't even said more than five words to Micah 
since we've been  back."
  "He knows what we're doing, he's got the details," Nate replied, hints of 
annoyance that Dan was beginning to sound persistent and meant to stay until he 
was done... what? Bitching at him? Blaming him for something he undoubtedly 
missed?  "Was there something else you needed, Dan?  Ain't exactly got time to 
  "How 'bout you get some sleep?  Twelve hours of work is alot."  There were 
days where Nate would've dropped what he was doing and take the suggestion.  
Now, it just another sharp sting to remind him they weren't together.  
  Forcing to keep his annoyance for Dan's presence at bay, Nate replied with as 
neutral a voice as he could get, "Try eighteen, 'Dancer's just being nice about 
my sudden workaholic addiction."
  "Nate, get some sleep."  He was close now, at Nate's feet, and Nate felt like 
a foolish  teenager trying to control his nerve.  Dan's voice was a cross 
between reasonable, inviting, and warm.  Something to wrap around and feel 
safe.  It was a blessing the console hid Nate's face.  Damn the man and the 
effects he had on Nate, right now it felt like wounds being poked and played 
at, to see how much more their seperation would hurt.  Nate wrapped his 
emotions tighter than a noose, concentrating on the repairs.
  "I'm fine," Nate replied tightly.  His anger slipped past, "Was that the 
entire reason to coming down here?  To tell me to go to bed?"
  "We need a functioning captain when this job happens."
  "Oh, I'll be there, on that you won't have to worry about," Nate smirked.  
  "We'll be at No Hope in less than eight," Dan replied and walked out of the 
room. The air felt breathable agian. 
  He bumped his head against the cold metal, eyes closed and focusing to just 
push the pain down as far as he could bury them.  He'd done it before Dan ever 
came into his life, he could do it again.  Sleep called like distant promise of 
comfort and escape, but he rebuffed the alluring call and opened his eyes, 
reactivated the capacitor.  Now if he could only stop the tears.
  "So, Dancer, after this, how bout we take a look at deflector control?"  Bury 
yourself in work, Nate told himself, it was better than moping about.
  "If you like," 'Dancer replied ominously, "but boy do I got a list for you."
  "Well alright."

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