"Nice landing Captain"
"That was a shit landing at best and you know it. I was three degrees off center, another half and you'd be in a cast. If you're going to lie, try harder."
"Is that the conversation you want to be having right now captain?"
"Don't get on my bad side today. I'm in no mood." The gnarled end of a cigar splintering in his teeth. Face red with whiskey and rage.
The thin Vigani feigns interest. "If this is how you want to spend your time, I'm not going to argue."
"Don't you lecture me." Switches flip, things turn off, spindles fire and shut down. The captain stands and turns --
"Do you want my advice?" -- but an arm blocks his way.
He turns and evades, both the question and it's asker. "Shut your goddamn mouth." It's more of a roar than a murmur.
"Talk to your wife captain."
He slinks back down into his seat, defeated. "Someday you're going to wake up with a bullet in your back."
"Get in line Captain." The pale faced walking freckle casually stretches his arms behind his head, flips the bird, and exits the bridge.
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