Chatterbox: Inkwell

Yipee, new story, whoopee, hurrah, huzzah, and a bunch of trumpets. it's a spin off my old story idea about a cadet getting stuck in acid snow. Here's the short beginning. Obviously, i just started.

“Calling command-repeat, calling command center A-49 Andromeda! Come in.” The tinny voice had an underlying sense of impatience as the communicator in Tyskavonbleeped uncontrollably. As the incessant beeping continued, soft footsteps came quietly down the corridor. Around the edge of the slick, white plastic walls, a teenage girl dressed in a silver jumpsuit padded to the large communication screen. Her long, shimmery, pale blue hair cascaded down her back. In a silvery, musical voice, she spoke to the screen.

“Cadet Emzara Rakeel speaking, A-49Andromeda Tyskavon.” The screen flickered to life. A larger than life digital movie of a middle-aged man blossomed before Emzara'seyes. He looked muscular and capable of many things. Emzara noticed the captain's symbol appliqued on his lapel, and immediately jumped to attention. He opened his mouth and spoke. “Emzara Rakeel, may I please speak to your trainer?” She narrowed her eyes.

“Trainer Navv? Why?”

“Nothing, just get him.”

“No, seriously. I did greet you properly, right? That is, sir!”

“Emzara...” He glared at her. She gulped. “Right, going sir!” She hurried off. As soon as she was out of earshot, or so he thought, he chuckled. “Oh, how I love her spunk.” Grinning, Emzara stuck her head around the wall. “Why, thank you, captain. And I love you, too. But, really, you should update your vocabulary. Spunk?”

“EMZARA!” He bellowed. But she had already scurried away down the corridor. The captain sighed and leaned back to wait for Trainer Navv.

“Trainer?” Reli Navv swiveled around in his chair, which was floating about a foot above the gelfloor. Running his hand through his fading silver hair, he leaned forward expectantly. “Call for you.” Reli heard the concealed mischief in her voice, and growled disapprovingly.

“What did you tell the intergalactic telemarketers this time?” Mumbling about calls from telemarketerson Jupiter, Milky Way, he slid down from the chair, bouncing slightly on the gel, and left through the sliding door. “Oh, and, Emzara? Go to the energizing booths. Looks like you need it.”