ECHOES
By
A.j.
Timeline: Before Pilot
Author's E-Mail: jetfixer@interaccess.com
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This story takes place about four months before the launch of Eden Advance, and our collective little vice. A more appropriate title would be Echos of Things to Come, but I don't go for long titles. It's a Devon/Danziger story, and I personally think it's kinda cute. There are a few adjectives that are put in here from my personal point of view, and that of my, before-unmentioned, brother. He visited for Thanksgiving, and was just as bored as I was, so we dedcided to write this story. Took me awhile to edit it.
Smiles---A.j.I don't know how to copyright, and I personally don't feel the need.
Echos
by A.j.
At the clack of high heels, John Danziger brought his blond head up from looking for a particular piece of rigging. High heels weren't something that were normally worn in a construction zone, and curiosity, as usual, got the better of him. He was *not* prepared for what he saw. Coming at him was a mob of people, the 'bosses' as he so _lovingly_ refered to them.
'Great, just what I need.' He carefully wiped his hands on a convenient rag, and stretched out his spectacularly-large frame. 'If I'm gonna face the bosses, might as well be as imposing as I can.'
When he glanced back at the advancing mob, he noticed something, or rather someone, different within their midst. There, at the center of the chaos, was a woman looking supremely unruffled. She had the bearing of a queen, and John was no fool, she was one. He knew that auburn hair and those calculating blue eyes anywhere. Anyone who didn't was either an idiot, or had lived in a deep hole for the past twenty years.
Devon Adair, once and possibly future, given that she forget the little hobby she was indulging herself in, queen of high society, marched along the hallway lined with half-welded steel garders and I-beams as if she were right at home.
'Then again, maybe she is.' The idea struck John. 'She's spent most of her adult life designing and building stations, she's prob'ly been to a job site or two.'
There was something disturbing about Devon Adair that John just couldn't put his finger on. Something about the way her body moved, how her hair slid across her cheek as if both were the finest quality silk, that just made John want to reach out and touch her.
'Whoa big fella! Don't go fantisizin' 'bout yer boss. Besides, even if she would go for a guy like you, of which there is absolutely *no* chance in hell, you couldn't. Elle was the love of your sorry life, and there won't ever be another.'
His thoughts were quickly put away as the mob arrived.
The first thing Devon Adair noticed when she stepped into the unfinished hall of the Eden Advance ship engine room was something akin to surprise. There, at the end of the corridor, was the man she had hired to supervise and direct the Ops crew, working on a power coupling.
'Why the hell is he doing that? Where in God's name was the rest of the crew!?'
Stepping purposefully, Devon avoided the beams protruding from the floor and walls on both sides with practiced ease. She'd been crawling around this ship for the better half of the last six months making sure that everything was right. Heading towards the mechanic, Devon ignored the chaotic exchanges around her. She knew the men were needed, and each had his own unique purpose, but, damn, they got irritating. All that bickering and conniving got on her nerves, and, though she gave no outward sign, she was ready to slug every one of them.
Suddenly, the mechanic (Danziger was the name printed on his jacket) straightened to full height, and treated Devon to her first full look at him. The only coherent thought that came into her head was, 'WOW.' The man, Danziger, had a full head of bright blond curls that reached almost to his ears. His strong jaw had the hint of a five o'clock shadow, and his lips were set in a hard line, defining his Roman nose. But what really caught her eyes were just that, his eyes. They were the clearest blue that she had ever seen. There was promise in those eyes. Promise of pleasure, strength, and, most of all, honor.
Devon blinked. 'Whoa there, Dev,' a little voice inside her chimed. 'He's prob'ly married, and you don't need a man in your life to begin with, let alone a drone.' But another voice rang out, a voice that had been banned long ago, clearly and loudly saying 'So what?!'
Devon waved the little voice away mentally, and stopped, entourage intact, about five feet away from the lanky mechanic. She brought her face up to address him, but one of her annoying hive beat her to it.
Immediately after stopping in front of him, one of the bosses stepped up, and practically screamed, "What is going on here!? Where, pray tell are the rest of the people on this crew? We hired ten people to be down here at *all* times, working! And you...I hired you to supervise them."
"Actually, you didn't."
The short, slightly-balding, pot-bellied mant sputtered, "Didn't what? Hire you?"A slow smile spread over John's lips at the sight of the little man, righteous indignation glowing on his face. "No, sir, *you* didn't hire me. The man in the pin-striped suit behind you did." The line came out in a matter-of-fact tone reserved especially for bosses.
The man sputtered again, looking like he was about to split a seam, and was on the verge of saying something, when the slightly musical voice of Devon Adair rang through the passage.
"Getting back to the point, where *is* the rest of the crew?" Real curiosity glittered in her eyes. It was the first time John had noticed her eyes. They looked like slivers of crystal cut from a blue sky. Round, and perfect in every way, they shone with something special, almost ethereal. (isn't that the *coolest* word? Eh-the-real... It is so mystical. Oops, sorry.) But
behind the mystical glaze was something hard, and yet vulnerable. A deep sadness that looked like it went on forever. John blinked. Now was *not* the time for romantic fantasies."They're at home, in bed," he answered simply. "AT HOME!?" The bald man had regained his voice, and shouted the words directly into John's face. "What the HELL are they doing in their quarters? We have provided perfectly good ones here onboard!" The little man's eyes shown viciously. "Well, they'll pay. They are going to find a rude surprise instead of their paychecks tomorrow."
"Sir," John used the word almost as if it were an insult. "They are in their personal sleeping quarters because the facilities, supposedly, provided had no room for everyone, *and* no room for families. These people you hired to do a job, most of them won't see their loved ones for another 50 years, and they want to spend some time with them. I'm sure you don't mind. *Sir*." Danziger gave the last word emphisis.
"Of course I mind!" The little man did not know what to do, and John could see it. There was something about the man that suggested he had never been stood up to, and certainly *not* by a mere drone. "They were paid to do a job, and they signed a contract. That contract stipulated that they were to remain onboard at all times. And you, sir, are responsible to keep them in line. You are the foreman, and you will be held accountable. They won't lose their jobs, but you certainly have." A smile of triumph came over the man's face as he watched the consternation cross Danziger's face. The man had protected his honor *and* in front of his boss.
Devon kept quiet as the testosterone flew through the air until the last statement was issued.
"Hold it, Karter. What's this contract you had them sign? The one I gave you never said *anything* about the crew staying on board until departure." The level of anger rose in Devon's voice. The strain of listening to these annoying men was finally surfacing, and when Devon Adair lost her temper, heads would roll.
"You know what family means to me, and yet you set up a contract that forbids contact!? That's it. I forgave that little scandal you caused with that girl from the Allen Street Station, but this... THIS is unforgivable. This man did nothing but let people go home and see their families."
Devon was picking up speed and months of frustration and bottled-up rage finally found an outlet in poor Karter. The bald man stepped backward and kept moving back until he bumped into the nearest wall. That didn't stop Devon. She moved right in front of him and pushed her finger under his nose, her voice deathly quiet.
"That man will not lose his job, in fact, he's getting a raise. He brought some very valid things to my attention, and I want to know why they weren't raised before. I want a full report on my desk, tomarrow, of his and the crews' other complaints, right before you pick up your last paycheck."
Devon spun on her heel, leaving a gasping Karter slumped against the wall.
"Adair!"
The voice from behind stopped her short. It was the mechanic. She wheeled around and faced him. No one had ever adressed her in anything but Ms. Adair, or Ma'am for ages. Having a migrant worker adressing her as merely 'Adair' was a shock."What?"
"Don't fire him on my account." Danziger smiled a tight smile to soften his normally gravely voice. (He-YA, but *what* a voice...)Devon brought her face up to meet his. "I assure you, sir, that I did not fire him just because of what you brought to my attention, there are some past grievances as well."
Silence cut through the hall, none of Devon's remaining entourage daring to interrupt the gaze held between their boss and the mechanic. It was as if the air was charged with electricity as the equally stubborn individuals stared each other down.
"Well, good. If that's the case, it doesn't matter. As long as it just wasn't me." Danziger broke the silence first.
A rare smile flitted over Devon's face, and she turned back in the direction she had previously been heading, feeling all the way the intensity of Danziger's gaze.
-The End-
And the rest is Edenite history!! (I think. ::sigh:: <dippy grin..>)
Me (A.j.)
This text file was ran through PERL script made by Andy. Original text file is available in Andy's Earth 2 Fan Fiction Archive.