there's this specific vibe...

Hugh's wife kissed him on the cheek in passing. "Well, the good news is the extra time means the kids are actually ready. The bad news is the cab wouldn't wait, so I'm going to need you to pull some strings or throw your weight around, or whatever it is you do, and figure out an alternative."

"Okay, I -" Hugh dug in his pockets for the paper he'd written the address on "-honey -"

"I'll grab the kids."

"Wait -"

She paused halfway up the second step and turned to lean on the banister, looking slightly down at Hugh's concerned face.

"I need to tell you something."

"Okay."

He dug in his pocket for another second before finally extracting the paper. He glanced at it awkwardly before returning his wife's gaze. "I don't have a mistress."

She blinked at him once, twice, then nodded. "That's great. Congratulations."

"No, Hugh. You're clearly too busy lying to all your bosses at once to also be lying to me about something like that."

"Uh -"

"Also, I've seen alllllll the women you've been around lately, and I flatter myself that I married a man with more discerning tastes than that."

"Ok -"

"Anyway, why did you need to tell me this?"

"London might bring it up at dinner. I wanted you not to be blindsided. Although, if you act a little indignant, that could be helpful."

"Indignant miffed? Indignant surprised? Indignant furious, like this-bastard-might-not-make-it-home-from-dinner furious?"

He squinted at her. She seemed to be enjoying this.

"Personally, I think I could play up the last option into a really heart wrenching scene," she said. "The tabloids would be all over it."

"Have you thought about this scenario before?"

She shrugged. "You told me politics would be messy, Hugh."

"Uh, les's just start with miffed and we can escalate from there if London presses the issue."

"Sir, I'm not sure that's a good idea," Kalae said. Her left hand clamped her right wrist to her side, trying to disguise the amount of adrenaline that had just dumped into her system.

Quill assessed her shaking hands, then considered Admiral London's face. The Admiral seemed about ready to strangle someone - anyone - and Kalae was certainly the closest target.

Quill shrugged. "No, I think it's a very good idea."

He turned on his heel, leaving them alone in the loading bay.

--§--

"Captain." Mirin greeted Quill blandly as he walked into maintenance. "You sure that's...advisable?" She indicated the camera feed framing Kalae and London.

"He tried to kill us," Quill said. "It's really only fair."

He and Mirin watched the screen for a moment before London reached, foolishly, to grab at Kalae.

In the second that Kalae dodged London's arms and wound up to retaliate, Quill kicked at a power feed box near the door. The camera feed cut out.

"Arrest me, then." Kalae tossed a roll of paper rags at London's chest. They bounced uselessly to the floor. He stared at them. He stared at Kalae. He stared back at the rags. The blood streaming down his face slowed to a trickle.

After a moment he straightened, glaring at Kalae. "Do you have any idea," he tugged at the stars on his collar, "What these mean? What type of shit sandwich you've just cooked for yourself? Who do you think you are, going around like you're too good for the chain of command?"

"Nobody," Kalae retorted, "But I'm a nobody who isn't part of your Arc-Sector."

"And you think - you insolent, insubordinate brat - you think that absolves you of any military decency?

"Speak for yourself."

London's face went white. Too abrupt to be from the blood loss, Kalae figured. Probably rage. She took a conspicuous step back toward the door, which London failed to notice as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"You have assaulted a superior officer. You disobeyed my direct orders, and I don't know everything lurking in your record from the Eridani incident, but I know enough. And when I find out the rest of your special history, I will make you regret ever hearing about SDB. I'll make you regret ever having laid eyes on a Starfighter! I'll find everything that -"

"Respectfully, sir," Kalae droned, "You know where I live. I take correspondence every cycle at ten hundred." She swatted the hangar door open. "Sal'e'pax."

"Really?"

"It's not just the armor that's a problem," she said, "it's the entire thermal system that goes with it."

"So you've solved the fracturing problem?" Quill asked.

"Well, no. Sort of. Maybe." She popped one piece of cheese into her mouth. "The only blades I've tested that are actually hard enough to break through the shell immediately warp from the heat, making them single use."

"is that a problem?"

"it is if you don't want to be fielding a platoon with the galaxy's most expensive disposable combat knives." They passed another sample tray, and Kalae paused. "Ooh, croissants." She grabbed one of the sliced halves, wrapping it around the remaining cheese cube.

"Kalae, we have food on the ship."

"Sir, I'm not sure that's a good idea," Kalae said. Her left hand clamped her right wrist to her side, trying to disguise the amount of adrenaline that had just dumped into her system.

Quill assessed her shaking hands, then considered Admiral London's face. The Admiral seemed about ready to strangle someone - anyone - and Kalae was certainly the closest target.

Quill shrugged. "No, I think it's a very good idea."

He turned on his heel, leaving them alone in the loading bay.

--§--

"Captain." Mirin greeted Quill blandly as he walked into maintenance. "You sure that's...advisable?" She indicated the camera feed framing Kalae and London.

"He tried to kill us," Quill said. "It's really only fair."

He and Mirin watched the screen for a moment before London reached, foolishly, to grab at Kalae.

In the second that Kalae dodged London's arms and wound up to retaliate, Quill kicked at a power feed box near the door. The camera feed cut out.