Welcome Aboard
A short story for Mordecai
Whilst he had undergone the training, like any respectable young officer, and indeed he'd passed. Perhaps not in the upper percentile. But he had passed all the same.
And that was what mattered to the queerly coloured kangaroo.
Decked out, in the tyrian purple uniform of the Confederacy, all high collar and respectable trim. Bare of all but the minimum of qualifications designating him a Warfare Officer, and a solitary Midshipman's stripe.
The purple contrasting with his own black and purple mien.
"Can I help, Sai?" came the helpful reply of a less overly-dressed spaceman, some avian looking lass, sporting a Senior Spaceman's chevrons.
He straightened his posture just a little more, recalling his instructions on bearing and posture and being 'Gentlemanly', he replied. "Ah, Yes Senior Spaceman," he enunciated the rank exactly, "I'm looking for the CFS Redoubtable. He's the ship I'm assigned to."
The avian gave a slow, understanding nod and held out a scaled hand, whilst reaching for, and unfolding the flexIpad with a deft flick of her wrist. "Could I have your tags, sir?"
Holding out his wrist, the implant was checked over and with a few deft swipes of her fingers, compared to the database. A glance up at his face, back to the screen and she gave a satisfied bob of her head. "If you'll follow me, Mister Tyler. I'll show you aboard."
Through the bustling dock, towards the Spacey hangar, the duo went. The roo looking around him, with a sense of awe. Watching the transparent-aluminum windows that showed the myriad of attached vessels sitting in the dark of space.
Each was like a large midnight blue capsule, primary thrusters at either end. It's surface festooned with sensors and weapons, looking stark, if a little bland. Their hull classification number on the prow as the solitary means of identifying each one.
"Hey guys, I got some fresh meat for you," the avian NCO spoke to the two guards. One, bearing the same purple uniform and another, in the charcoal grey of the Espatiers; the ground-forces portion of the Spacey.
As guardsman, they were both carrying rifles.
The roo was again, given the same security measures, checked over visually and by his tags, before he was permitted to pass through the hatch into the gangway.
"Do you require any assistance getting aboard, Mister Tyler?"
Tyler bit back an annoyed retort. What did she think, that he was some civvie? But he held it back. After-all, she'd doubtless seen many new Midshipman embarrassingly land....
Flying through the tunnel, to where the ship lay moored, he approached it with a faster speed than he'd anticipated in his eagerness to board.
Before he could impact the hatch, which padded as it was (for just such an occasion), he was intercepted and through deft manoeuvring was set down onto the hatch.
Looking over at his saviour, Tyler regarded the Espatier. He was sporting fatigues, set in a neutral grey tone, a tan canine of some sort..oddly long muzzle (which bore some shades of grey; even if the didn't seem to be all that old), rounded very un-canine ears. A tail that he bore stiffly.
Then his eyes widened, "You're a thylacine!"
The thylacine grinned, sheepishly and nodding his head. "Guilty as charged, Sai." He thrust out a hand, the leathery palm was calloused, not soft like kid-leather, and bore a mottled design on the skin. "Staff Sergeant Coorinna, Second Herd."
Taking in those purple eyes, with his own green eyes. Dark, jovial. Still, if he was being entirely honest, that wide smile sent a primordial shiver up his spine.
He remembered, back when recoms like himself were prey to creatures like this fellow.
Still, it was repressed as quickly as the unbidden thought appeared, he thrust out a hand to clasp the friendly grip. "Thanks for the save, Staff. I'm Midshipman Jii-Bidi Tyler."