This Is Sirse's Job!

Jennivien looked at the  smoldering wreck that had been her and her employer’s ship not minutes before. The once streamline hull was not dented in an irregular pattern, and the number two engine all but hung from its twisted frame.

‘Don’t worry!’ the massive shark called from somewhere in the cockpit area. ‘It is not as bad as it looks. The internal guidance computer and computation unit are still intact. So consider that a blessing.’

‘Great.’ Jenn managed in a small voice, surveying the arid desert that they had crashed into, rocky hills and scorched earth all around. ‘That’s great. I can die happily knowing that.’

The shark stuck its massive head back out from the ships interior. Wiping his hands on a lubricant stained rag. ‘Now for the bad news.’

‘The bad news?’ Jenn glanced at their ship. There was worse news than being stuck on a hostile world in some throne forgotten dimension, and in who knows what time line. Only with a great deal of personal restraint did she manage to keep her voice reasonably calm. ‘And what might that be?’

Slamming the hatch closed and leaning against their ship, The Raven, he regarded her with beady black eyes. ‘The fusion reactor is offline. We’re going to need to find some replacement parts to get the ship back up and running again. And by we, I mean you.’

Underhandedly he flipped a small pack her way, along with a dosser. Nearly dropping the latter Jennivien fixed her employer with a look of pure horror.

‘Me?’ she looked between the back and her boss. ‘I’m not a field agent! I’m not trained for this sort of thing – that was Sirse’s job! I just work with numbers – filing bills, keeping your taxes up to speed. Why cant you go? Your bigger, stronger, and better cut out for this sort of thing.’

Rather than rebuke for such an outburst the shark’s smile widened as he slapped the ships hull.

‘Simple.’ He began. ‘We sort of made a grand entrance here and I would not put it past the locals here to know that there is some valuable bit of salvage now free for the pickings in their back yard. So, if you feel like sitting on Ground Zero, I could go in your place.’

He held out a hand indicating the survival bag. Jenn clutched it closer to her fluffy chest.

‘After careful consideration.’ She bit her lip, not believing she was about to say the words. ‘I have decided to try and find the necessary items on the list and return here with them.’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Striding over he gave her a hearty slap on the back, nearly buckling her knees as he did so.

‘What is this place called anyways?’ Jenn queried as she slipped into the packs harnesses. Looking at the dosser, she frowned. The cover page bore several miss spellings and appeared to be written in crayon. Her hope for making it out of this situation dropped a degree.

Her employer squinting at a glinting construct in the distance, made a grunt of acknowledgment returning his attention to the present. ‘Oh, this place. This is called The Waste Land – and that, that over there is New Vegas.’  

C.S. Notes: Hello and welcome to a side story featuring Jennivien, and arctic fox that handles accounting in the sub-basement, and myself as her employer. This takes place in the FALLOUT universe, after an unfortunate accident of crashing the Raven into the alien mother ship in orbit around the planet. Sirse being on vacation do to stress issues. Jenn got promoted to take her place as field assistant, though she has no, in the field experience. Da da daaaaaaa!

Why FALLOUT though? Well, knowing to much about interdenominational worlds, I discovered something of interest that required further investigation. A symbol that appears in the series, that is identical to one that appears in the new Battle Star Galactica series. So, naturally an investigation was required. Hope you enjoy the story.

yous,

C.S.