very mature

The three siblings all talked at once. Their voices bled into each other and built up, filling the narrow length of tactical comm. One by one, the other officers had squirmed through the door as soon as it slid open wide enough. Talib saw them in the corner of his eye, but by the time he turned, the door was wide open, the hall beyond, lit dark blue, empty.

Only Makros and Talib sat at their consoles. Their surfaces flicked red whenever Cornix waved her hands or jabbed a finger at the central display, but then Dorea would snap her fingers across. The white and black of statistical data and survey results flashed up at the two remaining officers. Lysander swiped a finger over a particular cluster of data, and it lit a soft blue.

Cornix threw a hand in front of his. Again the consoles flashed red—error: repeat command. She repeated some choice obscenities. Flash red—error.

Snap—black and white.

“Fuck you—”

repeat command.

“Very mature—”

error.

“Lick my—”

repeat command.

“I said: lick my ass.”

Cornix shouted out above her siblings. They both stared at her with wide eyes, and she began to laugh. Dorea and Lysander raved at Cornix as she laughed.

The ship shook with a deep clunk. A loud whirring replaced the soft hum of the engines. The lights—both the white overhead and the green along the floor—blinked out. An alarm screeched up from decks below. Red light hummed on as the ship jerked, the back-up systems kicking awake. They were all silent. Floating in the red light.

Cornix chuckled.

“I don’t fucking believe this.” Lysander ran fingers through then pulled at his hair. Heels of his hands pressing into his forehead, he shook his head. “What did you do?”

She giggled. “I broke the fucking ship.” Then bent over, curled up and rocked back in the air as she laughed.

Dorea pushed off a wall. Gliding past her brother, she yanked him along by his collar. Makros kicked over to help them pry the door open. Cornix was still laughing, her olive skin flushed red, tears rolling down her cheeks. Talib, grinning, shook his head. His stomach hurt watching her. But as her laughter petered off, the others wiggled out into the hall and left the narrow room quiet. She rubbed at her eyes. Sniffled a bit. Chuckled a little more then sighed.

“I need a drink.”

“We should probably check on the rest of the crew.”

“Probably, yea, okay.”

“But, after—I’ve got a bottle of rum. Been saving it.”

She grinned. “What’s the occassion?”

“You broke the fucking ship.”