It’s Tuesday which means the fun of the #BlogBattle is back! Hosted by Rachael Ritchey, it’s a lively competition which you should definitely think of joining! Check out her blog for all the rules!
Genre: Sci-Fi (Duh, I had to write about Frankie and Fyrn with a word like Mars)
Captain Frankie Baum thought he was taking on an ordinary cargo. Turns out he got the head of the rebels that have been stirring up trouble in the galaxy. After a run-in with the galactic police, Frankie and Fyrn have crashlanded on the planet Cristol where they were forced to ask assistance from the F.R.O.G.s – Forest Reconnaissance and Observation Gendarmes…
Frankie tightened the last bolt and replaced the paneling over the starboard engine. If he ever saw the police crew that had done the sabotage again, he was going to have some strong words with them. He didn’t appreciate people trying to kill him by going after his ship. He’d rather a straight fight. He wiped his hands on the rag and noticed a spot of grease on his bright green suspenders.
“Perfect end to a day,” he grumbled.
Fyrn, the cargo he was smuggling and currently pretending to be galactic officer, was still flirting with Captain Leroux.The F.R.O.G. commander was enthralled by the purple-haired woman. She was ending up more trouble than the payment Radar had promised and she hadn’t even been on his ship a full day. Frankie decided to go interrupt their conversation, mainly to figure out what they were going to do for the night. He was going to need another day to work.
“Ah, Captain,” Leroux smiled as he approached. “How go the repairs?”
“Fine. How goes standing in the shade all day?”
Leroux flashed another grin. “Jones said there are still some repairs to be made?”
“Yes, I should be able to finish up tomorrow then we can settle payment.”
Leroux’s smile faded. “Yes, about that… General Rathson is on his way.”
A chill settled in Frankie’s stomach. The “General” and he did not have a positive history. And if Rathson was coming himself that meant that he wanted something from Frankie. He noticed Fyrn looking concerned and forced a smile.
“I’d better go get cleaned up then.” He sauntered back to the ship with Fyrn tagging along behind.
“What’s going to happen?” Fyrn asked, once inside the ship.
“With Rathson, who knows? I don’t think I’ve broken any laws around here yet, so he’s going to need a really good reason to throw me in prison.”
Fyrn rubbed the back of her neck anxiously. “It is because I gave Leroux the fake I.D.? I’m sorry, I thought it would help speed things up.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll see what he wants before jumping to any conclusions,” Frankie reassured her before working to get the grease stain out of his suspenders. They were his favorite pair. While they soaked in his own concocted solution, he ducked into his room to change shirts to a navy tee with faded lettering reading 82nd Airborne. He laced up his boots over a fresh pair of dark grey military-style pants. He had his backup pair of lucky green suspenders handy and headed back out to meet his nemesis.
To say that Rathson resembled a tank would have been an insult to said tank. He was about as friendly as a tank, and Frankie (unfortunately) knew how to get right under his skin.
“Well, if it isn’t Captain Frank Baum,” Rathson drawled. Frankie dug his hands into his pockets and meandered over, aware of Fyrn close behind.
“Rathson,” Frankie rolled his eyes ever so slightly.
“I was prepared for another boring day when Leroux called in the report. An officer and a…well, not much of a gentleman.”
“Ha. Ha. Are you done trying to be funny?”
“Well, there is the matter of you paying us for these ship parts, which could end up being hilarious.”
“How much?” Frankie sighed.
“That really remains to be seen. What are you willing to do to keep your ship and not get handed over to the galactic police?” Rathson smirked.
“What do you mean?” Frankie guardedly asked.
“Oh, I think you know. She’s an officer? Really? Travelling with a smuggler? Spare me whatever cute lie you two might concocted or Frankie here goes on a wanted poster right beside you,” he addressed Fyrn. Frankie glowered.
“So, you need to pay us for the parts, and you also need to avoid the police. All I need you to do is make one little jump for me.”
“A jump? You crazy? You know I don’t jump anymore,” Frankie stepped closer to Rathson.
“Yeah, I heard about that. I also heard you got a shiny new leg before shipping out to the space academy. Besides, you know people like us never stop jumping.”
Frankie whirled away. It was true. He still dreamed about jumping but after the disaster that had ended his military career, he hadn’t gone near a drop zone. But he needed to finish repairing the ship and Fyrn most likely wanted to avoid the police.
“Well?” Rathson prompted.
“I’d rather help colonize Mars,” Frankie snapped. Rathson laughed.
“One little jump, Frankie. As much as it pains me to admit it, you’re the best man for the job.”
“You just don’t want to get your hands dirty. Send one of your boys.”
“I did, and they didn’t make it.”
“Why? What are you after?”
“You gonna take the offer or do I need to have my boys scrap that wreck you call a ship?”
Fyrn raised an eyebrow at Frankie, letting him make the final decision. It was his ship.
“Let me get this straight. I do this stupid mission for you and it’s payment in full?”
“We’re even,” Rathson confirmed. Frankie kicked the ground, his better judgement telling him he’d be better off selling his soul than accepting whatever mission Rathson had in mind. But his better judgment had long ago accepted that he didn’t often listen.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Perfect. If you wouldn’t mind stepping this way to the helicarrier, it will be easier to show you.”
For those that enjoy the shenanigans of Frankie and Fyrn, I’ll attempt to finish up this “two-parter” next week! 🙂