CHAPTER 7 : REALIZATIONS

  The Necronomicon felt cold and unwelcome as the Captain made his way through the halls of crew quarters. He waved at Heather as she retreated to her own chambers, a chocolate chip muffin in her hands. He was glad to see everyone in fair spirits; he knew it was a difficult time and the crew seemed to be handling the situation well. Both Heather and Ramirez were making a good physical recovery too and Vanessa remarked that it was a good sign for them to have a healthy appetite.

  He checked the time on his wrist; it was almost noon. The reception had ended about ten minutes prior and he was going to check on the one member of the ship that wasn't invited. The Captain had made the decision that had to be made, but he still had a twinge of guilt that he knew he would have to learn to live with.

  He stopped in front of Gryphon's quarters. The door was unmarked, as was Gryphon's right, and it was also locked with the 'do not disturb' signal glowing brightly. The Captain pressed the door chime and heard it buzz.

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  Gryphon raised his head at a sound that rang from somewhere off in the distance. His face had a few errant crumbs of potato flakes and salt around the stubble that dotted his chin. His boxer shorts were tight around his thighs and hugged the large erection that his hand kept straying towards. He relished the sensation of it; it gave him a sense of power.

  The buzzing sound came again. He looked at his computer screen and grimaced. The files for Alyssa's program had just loaded and appeared as his head turned. He sighed and switched off his console.

  "Come in." The door automatically unbolted at his command and it swished open. Gryphon looked away and sneered.

  The Captain looked around the quarters as the door opened. They were unkempt, littered with the days and nights of life that had yet to be recycled and renewed; but there was no shame in that. Gryphon sat with his back turned, sitting in front of a dark screen with numerous bags of eaten snacks strewn about his chair. He was clad in his briefs and a tank top that was stained with a spilled beverage from weeks past.

  "What can I do for you ... Captain?"

  The Captain ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

  "I'm lifting your restrictions and putting you back on the duty roster."

  Gryphon turned his head back towards his computer and gave a out a short laugh.

  "Well, isn't that just plumb dandy?"

  "Gryphon," he wiped the back of his hand over a weary brow, "I've tried so hard to give you a chance. I've invested faith, time, and energy in you and you've given nothing but grief and hardship in return. I want to believe that you'll turn yourself around and join us; that you'll chose to be a productive member of this crew."

  "Sir, I don't know," Gryphon turned in his chair; his eyes were red from staring at a computer screen for the past few hours. "I mean, I know what everyone thinks of me up here. I know that I don't really belong."

  "Gryphon, it's nothing like that. You do belong here, you just need to understand that you're not the only person in this group. That there are others here that are making an effort to survive and that we expect you to do the same."

  "I'm thinking of leaving the ship Captain."

  The Captain looked down and scratched at the scar on his cheek.

  "That's your right Gryphon. I'd understand it if you chose to depart."

  With your blessing I'm sure.

  "We'll be putting in for repairs soon. We're scheduled to arrive at Tokyo Airstation in two days. At that time, all personnel will be given shore leave until the Necronomicon is restore to full working order. I'd appreciate it if you took that time to think about your decision."

  Gryphon looked back at his computer screen. He had planned on leaving as soon as possible, thinking everyone would be just as happy to see him on his way; he hadn't counted on the Captain's sense of fairness.

  "I'll have to think about it, sir."

  The Captain nodded and smiled a faint smile.

  "I'll let you get back to what you were doing."

  "Thanks, actually I think I'll go down to the Galley and get something to eat. All of these snacks just aren't doing it for me."

  "Go for it, there's plenty of stuff left over from earlier."

  Gryphon nodded. He began to slip into a pair of old sweatpants as his commander turned to leave.

  The Captain began walking down the corridor away from the tense conversation. He was about to turn the corner when the computer panel set into the wall began to glow. Alyssa's face brightened somewhere within it and he turned to squint at it.

  "Captain?"

  "What's on your mind 'Lyss?"

  "I'm afraid I have some bad news to report."

  "Everybody else has, why not you?"

  Alyssa frowned.

  "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay, don't get your circuits in a bunch about it. What is it?"

  "I'll patch George through now sir." The speaker crackled.

  "Sir?"

  "What's up George?"

  "It's Mr. Fleetwood, sir."

  "What about him?"

  "He's dead."

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  Robert was talking to Gus in the doorway to his quarters when he saw the Captain walking up the corridor. He shook his head once more and Gus grimaced. George was at the door of Mac's quarters as he looked around and made notes on his security pad. As the Captain made his way towards the scene, he found Krista inside as she pointed to various things of relative interest for George's benefit. There were blank pieces of paper strewn about the room and a faint scent of cigar smoke lingered. On the bed, lying face down in a small pool of dried blood, was Mr. Fleetwood.

  "Oh my god."

  George looked up and raised his hand in salute.

  "Sir."

  "What the hell happened?"

  "I came to check up on our guest after he didn't show up for breakfast this morning. Psi said he was in here and when he didn't answer the buzzer," George shrugged, "I bypassed the lock and found this."

  "Any idea what caused it?"

  Krista walked over to the bed, her high-heeled boots ticking in time with the old clock that hung from the wall. She placed a hand on top of the corpse's head and lifted it up. One eye was opened wide, the white of it stained a deep red.

  "Off hand I'd say high cholesterol and nicotine."

  "What do you mean? Heart attack? Stroke?"

  "Aneurysm, fairly messy one too."

  George stepped forward and looked up to his Captain.

  "What do you want us to do with him sir?"

  "Send him down to Medical and have Vanessa run an autopsy."

  "You don't suspect foul play do you?"

  "No, I just want something concrete to tell Mr. Fleetwood's employer and family." He turned to leave. Behind him, just arriving down the corridor, was Ramirez. She had a burgundy halter top that showed off a firm stomach and powerful arms and pushed up her small breasts. To Robert's delight, she was also wearing an incredibly tight pair of black, leather pants that stopped just below her calves and hugged every inch of her legs. The lines of definition in her toned thighs flexed with each high-heeled step that she took and the Captain couldn't help but be impressed.

  Gus clapped his boots together and brought his hand up.

  "Sir!"

  "You better salute me, I don't care if I am off duty."

  "Nice outfit Lieutenant."

  "Thank you, though I can't tell you what it took to squeeze into this thing." She looked at Robert with a smile, "I'm just happy to have the consolation of knowing that I'll be out of it soon." Robert was visibly shaken, but he stood his ground so as not to lose face before his male cohorts. The Captain frowned and was about to say something when Krista put a hand on his shoulder.

  "Sir, I've informed Vanessa of the situation. She's preparing Medical for her charge."

  "Good," he looked at Ramirez and squinted, "have your team take care of the mess in there." He pointed back towards Mac's quarters and she adopted a puzzled look.

  "Why? What's going on?" He turned on his heel and began to walk up the corridor; Krista nodded once to everyone and followed. A few seconds later they heard Ramirez cry out at her discovery. Krista spoke without turning her head.

  "Is there something else troubling you Captain?"

  "Ramirez's attitude just surprises me that's all. She's usually not so forward."

  "Maybe current events have taken a more serious toll on her than previously suspected."

  "Maybe. We'll have to worry about it later. I have a call to make and some bad news to break."

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