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The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1 By Christina Engela Characters: 5403

Updated: 2018-06-30 19:02

This was true, she knew. Being intimately involved with him gave her the privileged position of knowing him better than most. There were nights when he would wake up screaming, crying – when the nightmares returned after a peaceful period sometimes weeks long. Growing up in the middle of a fierce civil war was certain to indelibly mark a child, and that was the case with Mykl d'Angelo. To Mykl, birthdays had been – and still were – just another year under the belt, where the only reason to celebrate, if any, was that he wasn't dead yet.

"That's why all the fuss." Ripley breathed as she grasped his hand, squeezed it tight, and led him inside.

The combined mess hall, rec-dec and bar complex was filled to capacity. Practically the whole crew, except possibly those on duty in critical areas, was there. On sight of him, music began playing over the com system as they all started singing together. He swallowed. It was a well-rehearsed traditional rendition of 'happy birthday to you' in e-minor, backed by what sounded like a mariachi band. Party decorations brightened up the bland gray walls. Tables were covered in snacks and treats, courtesy of the galley no doubt. Everybody was smiling – no dammit, they were actually grinning at him – and wearing pointy little paper hats! Some figures in the vague mass of people started blowing little things that fluttered, lit up and went squeaked. The whole effect reminded him of an insane asylum… Or perhaps, a vision of Dante's Inferno. It looked like substantially more effort had gone into this than the recent new years' party. At any rate, it was certainl

ridge showed a navigational graphic of the region. No stars streaked past like the old movies showed – that sort of thing only showed at sub-light speeds, just at the threshold of warp. At light speed or higher, the ship moved too fast for light to catch up to them – he supposed that's why they called it light speed, duh.

Their current assignment was rather low priority, simply a charting mission. The Antares was one of several ships engaged in the task, spread light years apart. Some felt it was just an excuse to keep the crews busy; others that it was just an excuse to keep the fleet pretty much in the area of Meradinis, just in case something else came up. Mykl felt it was probably a little bit of both. In either case, it was better than just sitting in orbit around Meradinis, with a crotchety old admiral breathing down his neck about protocol and how things were done 'back in his day'. He felt good, relaxed. Out here he was out on his own, metaphorically speaking. He was free. And that's what space meant to him. Freedom. He was too contented to be bored.

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