Welcome to the Journal of Now and Forever. This Journal is a collection of my Star Control and Star Control 2 fiction. Note: Some of this material is, by necessity, extrapolation from the slim information provided by canon sources.

New fiction is posted first at My Livejournal before it appears here. This story is in response to 15 Minute Ficlets' Challenge #29.

Things could be going better, I'll admit. I mean, I can go about five hours in solitude now, which is better than I'd ever imagined, but that's not a full night's sleep, even if I cheat and say a full night is seven hours. So mostly I've been going to the commissary, since someone's always there, and falling asleep with my head on the table...

Nick broke off from his internal message-composing and checked the progress of the meal. So far, so good. He knew Dean could cook, but over time, his roommate's skills had declined to where he barely managed to make things edible. At least now that Dean was in boot camp, the meals would, by default, be complete.

It's just easier to write things out in my head, so to speak, than try to commit them to the messaging system. All I'd need is for someone else to intercept it, or read it over your shoulder, and I don't want that. Maybe I can just sort of condense it down from this into a short message instead. I mean, it's not like you really need to hear most of it – just me trying to get my thoughts in order, I suppose.

Anyway – a couple days after you went to boot, we finally got the new pipe couplers in. You know, the things that keep the shower unit from malfing on you clowns? Those. They finally were manufactured, I guess. It's weird, we've got computers and fiber-optic lights that pump sunlight directly into buildings during the day, and hover shuttles, but paper is scarce, we have hand-carved wooden furniture, and you're not supposed to use the communal showers more than twice a week at maximum to keep wear and tear at a minimum. Not that I suppose the shower restrictions ever bothered you, slacker. Nick smiled briefly as he reduced heat to the main dish: barley with chunks of wild game and chicken.

So. The couplers. The manufactories finally made up a batch, and now they need techs to install all of them. And guess what? Since I helped put the pipes in 'way back when, I get to help with the couplers. It's not too bad, really, since at least I know what I'm doing, and it looks like the senior tech they sent here knows his stuff too.

Since there's so many here in Whitehills, we'll have a lot to do, and someone – one of your foafs, I guess – told the senior tech that you went to boot camp, and, well, he's staying here now. Maybe I won't tell you that part, if I send you a message. Don't worry, he's not going through your stuff or anything. He just got here today and he's spent most of the afternoon working up a plan of attack on how to replace all these couplers in the shortest time possible. He's all right, I guess. We'll see how things go in a day or two. I can't exactly ask him to leave, though, unless I want to go back to sleeping in the commissary, and that's got its own problems.

Food's about ready, so I suppose this is it for now. Hope I can remember all this when I get to the computer. 'Course, you probably won't have much free time to read it in, either. I know I didn't. Still would've been nice to get more messages than I did, though.

"Food's ready," Nick said aloud. "Hope you don't have any dietary restrictions."

"No, no problems there," came the voice from Dean's bedroom. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Hunger makes the best sauce."

"No argument there," Nick muttered. Most Androsynth had learned to cook in self-defense during the first years on Eta Vulpeculae 2. It was that or go hungry until the commissaries were built and functioning. He placed the barley dish and mixed vegetables on the small wooden table.

"Smells good," said the tech as he emerged from the bedroom. "You always eat like this?"

"Um, sometimes, sir," Nick said, seating himself. "It depends. I've been eating more since I got back from boot camp."

"Mm." The tech seated himself also, and began spooning barley and meat onto his plate. "I think tomorrow we'll start with this building and the two next door, since we're here, and then head south the day after. We'll probably pick up speed as we get the hang of these things and you re-acquaint yourself with the tools."

"All right, sir."

"Please, we'll be working together for a while. Call me Jack."

Comments? Email me: laridian at aol dot com