Fields of Paper White
If there was one thing that irritated Malik Yadav more than anything was technology that didn’t work. Balling his hand into fist, Malik banged the view screen console in front of him, the static hesitating a moment before resuming its annoying haze. Shaking his head, Malik let out an aggravated sigh and leaned back into his seat. There was nothing he could do now but play the waiting game. Malik, after all, couldn’t leave until he received his orders from the Admiral. His foot tapped lightly on the marble floor beneath him, and strong arms crossed over his chest in boredom and irritation. Malik had been awake since six o’clock this morning and considering the topic of his conversation with the Admiral, he had a feeling it was going to be a long night. The static cleared and Malik turned dark eyed to the screen once more, a look of irritation on the Admiral’s face as well.
“Unreliable piece of junk,” the Admiral muttered, shaking his head at the screen. Malik, who had never been a fan of this particular Admiral, clenched his jaw in agreement and let his arms fall to rest at his sides once more.
“Repeat your last incoming, Sir,” Malik asked, leaning forward a little so he could hear a bit more.
“You’ve been a Captain for a long time. You don’t exactly follow protocol or do things by the book, and on more than one occasion you’ve stepped quite over the line,” the Admiral repeated, eyeing
Malik with a knowing stare. Malik bristled at the comment but kept his mouth shut. “But you’re a good Captain, and you’re the best person we can think of to give this job to,” the Admiral
continued, making a face that clearly stated he was regretting having to say these words. It didn’t bother Malik in the slightest, however, and he waited patiently for the Admiral to quit beating
around the bush and just say what he needed to say. “You’re being given command of the Mei-Mei,” the Admiral finished, waiting for Malik’s response. Malik blinked once, twice, even three times
before leaning back into his seat again.
“Did you say the Mei-Mei?” Malik asked, his Australian accent as thick as ever.
“Confirmed. You are to report to the Mei-Mei at 0500 hours tomorrow for a debriefing and for further orders on the new mission. It’s going to be a long one, so make sure you pack well Captain Yadav,” the Admiral said curtly, leaning forward and pressing the off switch for the monitor. Malik was so absorbed in the news that he didn’t even get in one insult or sarcastic comment before the communication was terminated. He sat in the hard metal seat, placing a bronze colored hand over his mouth.
“The Mei-Mei…I knew you’d come back to me,” Malik whispered to himself, unable to stop the smile from forming onto his face. Standing up in the abandoned communications room, Malik ran a hand through his thickly curled black hair, shaking his head a little. He needed to have it cut before he got to the ship’s yard tomorrow, as well as a shave. Heading out of the room, Malik felt much lighter than when he stomped into the room earlier. Actually, he felt pretty elated. The Mei-Mei was his rightful place, and as far as he was concerned, he had been away from it for far too long. Tomorrow he would deal with the mission, the war, his duties, the paperwork, and the stress. But tonight? Malik had his home back. Stepping out of the military compound, Malik turned his collar up to the wind and stepped out onto the sidewalk, heading back to the housing unit that served as his ‘house’ when he was stationed on Earth. The sun had just about set on the horizon, and Malik hurried to get home.
He did have to pack, after all.
© Copyright 2016 Chika Croi. All rights reserved.
Book / Science Fiction
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