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[h1][color=firebrick][b][u]An Unexpected Guest[/u][/b][/color][/h1]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uj8DYegtrHg](Mood Music)[/url]
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Dearil looked over his exhaustive manifest and checked to make sure that every item that was coming off of his ship was meant to come off. He had the deck crew of the cruiser doing all the hard work while he handled the logistics, and they were more than happy to do such if it meant getting a small discount at Dearil's canteen. His arrival aboard ships was always looked forward to as he brought with him a sizeable stock of local goods from the surface of whichever planet they were moored over. Being Cerol, Dearil made sure to bring to the planet's signature export, 'hyperwater'.

The minerals in Cerol's rivers and ocean beds had made the H2O on the planet quite rich. Not only was it safe to drink, but Hyperwater acted as a sort of energy drink to human beings, without any additives or chemicals. It was a truly healthy drink that people had come to appreciate, especially the marines of the UEE. Dearil's canteen supply was paid for out of his pocket, which was thankfully cushioned by a healthy salary afforded to him by his previous experience as an officer among the Imperial Secret Service. Anything he made from the canteen also went right back into the supplying of it. No matter where the fleet went or what planet they were over, Dearil's biggest seller was always cigarettes and energy drinks, and they were always the first things to run dry in his stock. Still, Dearil's other stocks made money, as people who had come for one or both of the hot commodities would often feel bad for arriving and wasting his valuable time, so they would buy something else instead. The men and women of the fleet appreciated Dearil and his efforts, even if he was just a lowly cargo pilot.

[color=white][i]"Hey, Ferryman!"[/i][/color] Dearil heard someone call out. He glanced up from his datapad and saw the ship's chief petty officer stomping toward him. Well... Almost every man and woman appreciated him.

Dearil sighed quietly and came to attention, [color=firebrick][b]"Haah... Sir."[/b][/color] he acknowledged him professionally.

[color=white][i]"How many times have you told you not to sell your goodies aboard my ship and to my crew?! It takes away from the ship's wallet for its own canteen! And none of the stuff you're selling has been properly vetted! What if you bring aboard some sort of hostile microbes from the surface?! You could get my hole ship sick!"[/i][/color] he scolded.

Dearil remained at attention and turned his brain off as he got a strip ripped from him. Getting yelled at was part for the course in the military, and it didn't matter who you were. There was always a bigger fish. But as Dearil was getting his yelled at by the old croak of a chief, the deck crews continued to offload stuff from Dearil's ship. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two crates. One was a crate of the vaunted Hyperwater! Dearil cut the chief off and pointed accusingly at the deckhand, [color=firebrick][b]"Oi! I didn't say you could offload that! And didn't you hear your Chief?! My stock isn't allowed in here! Put it back in!"[/b][/color]

The chief, who was obviously frustrated by Dearil's interruption, heard what he had to say and joined in with him to then rip a strip off of the deck hand, [color=white][i]"What do you think you're doing?! Do you know what we do with thiefs, Grafton?! We damn near hang 'em aboard this ship!"[/i][/color]

[color=firebrick][b]"And that!"[/b][/color] he pointed at the other crate, a nondescript black box with the mark of the ISS on it, [color=firebrick][b]"Where the hell did that come from?! Why are you grabbing classified equipment of the Secret Service?!"[/b][/color]

Grafton looked between Dearil and the Chief with bewilderment and record high levels of anxiety. Some sweat was even beading off of his forehead. [color=white][i]"Y- yes, sir! Sorry, sir! I'll back it back right away, sir!"[/i][/color]

Dearil and the Chief continued to bark at Grafton as he hurried to load the two crates back onto the Carry-All. He quickly skidded to a halt and came to attention facing the hold of Dearil's ship, all while he and the chief were continuing to simply just mess with his head at this point. A moment of entertaining, spontaneous solidarity between Dearil and the Chief of the cruiser [i]Hammerhand[/i]. Dearil blinked and stopped yelling at Grafton, and the Chief Petty Officer followed suit not long after. [color=white][i]"Hey, Grafton."[/i][/color] the chief started, [color=white][i]"I'm over here. What are you doing?"[/i][/color]

Grafton looked over the Dearil and chief, then cautiously pointed into the ship. They both followed the notional line that was being drawn and saw two men in black armor stepping out of Dearil's Carry-All, both bearing the mark of the Imperial Secret Service. Dearil raised a brow. They weren't on his ship before... Wait... Why do they have crates on my ship?! Dearil shot a look at the chief, who patted Dearil's shoulder, [color=white][i]"Ah yeah, that's what I was originally coming here for. You have some guests accompanying you on your next flight. Oh and I think you're next destination has been changed too."[/i][/color]

Dearil looked down at his datapad to check his flight path, and he had indeed noticed that the order of ships he was flying to was changed. In fact... His runs were seemingly coming to an end. What was supposed to be a whole day of flying between eight different ships of the fleet became a one-way ticket to a single ship. [i]The Roanoke[/i]. Dearil rubbed the back of his head, if the ISS was involved, there really wasn't much he could do about it. But why the secrecy? What were they even doing on the Hammerhand to begin with? Why the rush to move to the Roanoke? But he collected himself and waved off the deck crew, [color=firebrick][b]"Sorry, boys, canteen isn't opening this time due to... ISS."[/b][/color] he gestured to the black armored figures waiting patiently for him on the cargo ramp.

The crew groaned and slumped when they realized their work had been for nothing. Not that Dearil could help the matter at all. [color=firebrick][b]"Sorry, everyone. I'll spend some extra time and have more goodies for you on my next flig-"[/b][/color] he caught the burning gaze of the Chief with his hands at his sides, [color=firebrick][b]"I mean my canteen is off limits and I will most certainly not be selling un-vetted goods out of the back of my ship on my next flight in. Nope. Not at all."[/b][/color]

Dearil heard a few deck hands struggling to contain their snickers and laughs as he paid lip service to the Chief. Everyone knew it was formality. He'd be back and selling his goods the next day, and Dearil and the Chief would once again be having their meaningless (and scheduled) back and forth. Satisfied, the Chief left the cargo hold, and the deck crew began to disperse. Dearil sighed and looked back at the ISS agents, and made his way onto the ramp. The agents wordlessly watched him until he was about to step into the ship. One of the grabbed onto his shoulder firmly to stop him. Dearil scowled, [color=firebrick][b]"Hey, what gives?"[/b][/color]

[color=lightgoldenrodyellow][b]"Hello, Dearil. It's been a while,"[/b][/color] a feminine voice said from further in the cargo bay.

Dearil looked past the ISS agent and spotted the source of the voice. His shoulders relaxed, and Dearil let out a very long sigh, [color=firebrick][b]"Ahh shit..."[/b][/color]
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