“How many times you going to tell that story, Captain?” asked a sly masculine voice. “Especially considering that I’ve heard it at least a thousand times, as has most of the crew.”

Breaking her unwavering stare on the stars, Captain Diana Spacey’s violet gaze slid silently over the interior of the bridge. Her entire lithe form turned, long blonde hair glinting softly in the pale light as she turned to rest her sights on the man who had spoken. He was devilishly handsome, his wavy blonde hair falling just short of the rims of his glasses. Colder pale eyes watched her from behind the shielding of those glasses, seeming to pierce her soul. She didn’t particularly care for the gaze and yet at the same time it sent not entirely unpleasant shivers down her spine. “I wasn’t speaking to you, Rosy,” she murmured smugly. She knew he despised that name. His full name, Berkley Rose, had earned him the nickname a few weeks after she had hired him as a pilot on her ship. Now she did it simply to annoy him.

“Forgive me, Captain. I assumed you were, considering we’re the only two people on the bridge.” He spoke with a crisp, clear articulation that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but well-born upbringing. After all he was born and raised in Persephone, second son of the famed Rose’s and the talk of the gossip mills across the cosmos because of his disregard of the family fortune. Why he had chosen to enter flight academy and become a pilot was beyond Diana’s reasoning, and she never questioned him.

“Well that’s what you get for assuming, Rosey.” She saw him cringe at the name and she smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and sighing. “I think I’m going to get some rest. Don’t work too hard, all right?”

Berkley gave no response but nodded, his eyes lost behind the reflection of the control panels on his glasses. Diana doubted that he would listen to her suggestion but instead of dwelling on his impending disobedience, she simply shrugged and made her way down to her chambers.

As she strode through the gut of what she lovingly called her ship, she slid her hands along the wall of the passage as the heels of her boots echoed through the tunnel with every footstep she took. It seemed that there was no one around or there would be much more noise. She liked the silence. It was calming.

“Dammit Carol, what more do you want from me?!”

“I don’t know, Bikky, maybe some gorram support instead of you just wanting sex all the time.”

Following the shouting beginnings of what would most likely be a long argument was the clang of tools hitting something, most likely the hull of Diana’s ship. So much for the silence. Angrily, Diana stalked to the end of the hall, turning a sharp right and slipping into the engine room. She gasped and ducked just as a wrench went flying over her head. “What the HELL is going on in here?” she asked, her voice echoing off of the walls. She watched as her mechanic, Bikky, turned to face her. His wide blue eyes fixed on her and he grinned boyishly. That smile had gotten the young mulatto boy out of many fixes. Diana never fell for it. “I asked you what was going on, Bikky. Why are there tools flying about my ship?”

“That’s my fault, Captain.” From behind the spinning structure of the engine that kept that ship in space appeared a young woman of eighteen. Her pale brown hair was a bit mussed and her shirt and pants looked like they had been hastily put back on. Her aquamarine shaded eyes sparkled, then blinked, erasing the trace of tears that had been there. “I’m sorry, but your mechanic has been giving me trouble.”

Bikky’s shoulders slumped a bit, his head bowing as if to say: Now I’m just a mechanic?

Diana took mercy on the fifteen year old boy and gave Carol a warning look. “You should be asleep, Carol. Lord only knows when a medical emergency might present itself, especially with tools flying around.” Diana stood aside so the girl could pass, and when she was gone Diana turned back towards Bikky. He cringed away, obviously thinking he was going to be yelled at. Instead, Diana sighed. “Just clean up, and if you don’t stop acting all an ass to her, you’ll lose her.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Without another glance she turned and strode out in the direction of the hull. She needed a moment to herself but it seemed that it wasn’t in her cards that night. The second she set foot in it, a soft voice caught her attention from above. “Captain? I thought I heard some commotion.”

Slowly Diana’s eyes drifted upwards, not stopping until they reached the person who had spoken from the platform above. Deep black eyes gazed at her from a handsome and angelic face that was framed with feathery, chestnut brown hair. He was dressed in a pair of silk red night pants and a white sleeveless nightshirt. His feet were covered with silk slippers. His name was Ryo. Ryo McLain. He was a registered companion and One of Diana's closest friends.

“You did,” murmured Diana, sliding her hand over her face tiredly. “Bikky and Carol were at it again. I hope they didn’t wake you.” Diana offered him a little bow, a joking smile on her face. Diana and Ryo had grown up together; at least during the time he hadn’t been studying to become a companion. She always joked that he’d made something respectable of himself while she had just become a common (but honest) thief.

“Good night, Diana,” he said, unable to keep a straight face at her mock show of respect.

“Good night, sweet prince.” She watched him leave and laughed to herself, heading across the hull and to her chambers. Sighing softly she climbed down the ladder into the cramped area that served as her bedroom. She stripped and pulled out her bed, laying naked between the sheets and sighing softly to herself.

Another typical day aboard the Bard.