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On her days off, Jilleen often would escape to the triple-domed resort liner Shangri-la and spend her leave with those not directly associated with the military. It was not because she did not enjoy the company of her ship mates, it had always been her thing. Long before the war when she received her commission into the Colonial Forces, she had the financial means beyond her pay rate to live off post and afford an apartment in the more fashionable districts of a city.
Someone's financial portfolio had no importance these days, three years after the fall of the Colonies but someone could gain in social standing by the influence they held within the fleet. The Strike Group's Operations officer had nearly enough pull to determine which civilian ship would benefit from her decisions. At least she had more of a say before the new government had been formed, but it did not hurt to put in an appearance and socialize on the Shangri-La, which had become the de facto flagship of the government.
The dark blond was not here today to mingle with the elected members of parliament on the government side of the ship. No she was here for some recreation and some escapism.
“Thirty days worth?” she asked the well manicured man in a black suit and tie.
“Thirty days,” he confirmed, showing her the wrapped plastic baggy of tiny green pills.
She opened her black evening handbag to take out a small coin purse. Before paying the man, she looked over her shoulder and passed the pot planted false tropical tree they hid behind, and then down the side corridor to make sure they were not being watched. No one was there to witness the transaction, as she placed gold cubits into the man's palm, who then passed the baggy into her hand.
After tucking the baggy into a secret compartment in her hand bag, she checked again that the way was clear before she would part from her supplier. Jilleen could now continue with her day aboard the ship and pass her time socializing with the privileged and the well to do passengers.
Later she sat at the bar chatting with the bartender, when someone called her by her familiar name. She turned around to discover a blondish hair man in a wheelchair looking up at her with a grin.
“Mister Princeton,” she returned his grin with a cheerful smile. “You're looking good these days.”
“Ah, I bet you say that to all the guys,” he replied.
“Only the brave ones, Mister Princeton.” She admired Derrick Princeton as others did, who known of his heroic sacrifice the day they found the Virgon liner in distress in Scorpio space. If it had not been for his actions that cost him the injuries that led him without the use of his legs, the ship full of Virgonese pilgrims would have been lost.
“That's nice of you, Jill,” said the former ship engineer turned public activists and new member of parliament. “I'm am glad to have you on my side.”
“No problem,” she giggled. The effect of what she had ingesting earlier had taken hold of her. “Would you like a drink?”
“Thank you, but no.” He nodded in the direction of the dinning area. “I have a dinner date in a minute. I only wanted to come by and say hello.”
“Ok,” she replied.
“Alright then, I'll catch you later Jill. Have a good time.” He then started to turn his wheelchair around with the use of an electric joy stick, that operated the motors of the of the chair.
“Enjoy your dinner, Mister Princeton.”
Someone's financial portfolio had no importance these days, three years after the fall of the Colonies but someone could gain in social standing by the influence they held within the fleet. The Strike Group's Operations officer had nearly enough pull to determine which civilian ship would benefit from her decisions. At least she had more of a say before the new government had been formed, but it did not hurt to put in an appearance and socialize on the Shangri-La, which had become the de facto flagship of the government.
The dark blond was not here today to mingle with the elected members of parliament on the government side of the ship. No she was here for some recreation and some escapism.
“Thirty days worth?” she asked the well manicured man in a black suit and tie.
“Thirty days,” he confirmed, showing her the wrapped plastic baggy of tiny green pills.
She opened her black evening handbag to take out a small coin purse. Before paying the man, she looked over her shoulder and passed the pot planted false tropical tree they hid behind, and then down the side corridor to make sure they were not being watched. No one was there to witness the transaction, as she placed gold cubits into the man's palm, who then passed the baggy into her hand.
After tucking the baggy into a secret compartment in her hand bag, she checked again that the way was clear before she would part from her supplier. Jilleen could now continue with her day aboard the ship and pass her time socializing with the privileged and the well to do passengers.
Later she sat at the bar chatting with the bartender, when someone called her by her familiar name. She turned around to discover a blondish hair man in a wheelchair looking up at her with a grin.
“Mister Princeton,” she returned his grin with a cheerful smile. “You're looking good these days.”
“Ah, I bet you say that to all the guys,” he replied.
“Only the brave ones, Mister Princeton.” She admired Derrick Princeton as others did, who known of his heroic sacrifice the day they found the Virgon liner in distress in Scorpio space. If it had not been for his actions that cost him the injuries that led him without the use of his legs, the ship full of Virgonese pilgrims would have been lost.
“That's nice of you, Jill,” said the former ship engineer turned public activists and new member of parliament. “I'm am glad to have you on my side.”
“No problem,” she giggled. The effect of what she had ingesting earlier had taken hold of her. “Would you like a drink?”
“Thank you, but no.” He nodded in the direction of the dinning area. “I have a dinner date in a minute. I only wanted to come by and say hello.”
“Ok,” she replied.
“Alright then, I'll catch you later Jill. Have a good time.” He then started to turn his wheelchair around with the use of an electric joy stick, that operated the motors of the of the chair.
“Enjoy your dinner, Mister Princeton.”