First-Class Smugglers

Unhappy Clients and Unwelcome Crewmates

"Alright! Chop chop people we're on a tight schedule here!" A tall young man in a brown leather jacket and dark jeans walked across the airport apron, one of three airplane landing and loading areas on the small base, and waved his hands at the dozens of loading crew workers who were rushing about carrying boxes and pushing carts. It was nearly noon, the sun was trying it's best to shine through thick clouds, and everyone in sight was scampering around preparing for a last-minute flight.

The man casually ducked his dark-red-haired-head under a long suitcase two workers were carrying on their shoulders, and clapped his hands together with his words. "We. Do not. Have. All." He jumped over a passing trolley, "Day. Let's move it! Come on come on come on come on—!"

"Jase!"

A short, young black woman wearing a standard stewardess uniform and carrying a small pile of folders hurried over to him from farther up the apron. She was forced to dodge two more trollies laden with luggage as big as herself on the way, looking somewhat distressed. Jase stopped talking to wait for her.

"Wendy!" He exclaimed with a smile, "Perfect timing, I was just about to bask in the glory of my promotion. Bottle some of the star beams that come off me will you? I want to remember this moment." He put his hands on his hips and arched his back dramatically.

"Ok well, while you bask," Wendy opened up one of the folder she was holding and scanned it, "I'll go over mission specs. The client hasn't arrived yet, but since there's no one else on the base today we're clear to take off whenever they get here. But there's been a change in—"

"Perfect!" Jase spun on his heel and continued to walk through the frantic workforce.

"Jase!" Wendy hurried after him and bumped into one of the workers, dropping her folders. With an exasperated groan she gathered them up in a heap and dashed after Jase.

"This is the day Wendy!" He called over his shoulder, then sidestepped a box filled with cutlery that fell off a cart and spilled at his feet. "Someone clean that up and get it on board." he ordered. "This is the day! I finally get to call the shots on my own flight. Captain Jase! With nothing and nobody telling him he can't—"

"Jase!" Wendy grabbed his arm and whirled him around, "There's been a change of plans."

"The bad kind of change of plans where my perfect, long-awaited, pee-myself-I'm-so-excited day is ruined, or the good kind of change of plans where nothing's really changed and you're just pulling my leg because you hate seeing me have fun because you're really an alien sent to torment me with your nit-picking and rule-keeping and ethereal beauty?" Jase asked, all in one breath, with his eyes wide and pleading.

Wendy rolled her eyes, "A personnel change of plans. The twins and Luke are on other jobs today, so we've got some new cremates." She tried to take one folder out from the jumbled pile in her arms, but had trouble with one hand. With a huff, she reached out and grabbed a worker who was passing by the back of his jacket and dumped the pile of papers in his unprepared arms, quickly organizing them. Jase watched with an amused smirk.

"You know," he said, "with your diminutive design and delicate disposition, you'd make a positively perfect little pamphlet pixie."

"Your alliteration has holes in it." Wendy replied. She finished putting the folders right and waved the worker away, opening the one on top, "The good news is they're all someone at least one of us has worked with before. There's the flight engineer, Jude Spudowski—"

"Spuds?!" Jase snatched the folders out of Wendy's hands and looked in the first with a grin, "Good old Spuds! We were in training together way back when. He's a genius, the best engineer this side of whatever scale of measurement would impress you. Perfect! And who else...?" he flipped to the next file and squinted, "Rita...Delsin. Meh." He threw her file to the side, "Never heard of her."