Oh man it was hard to chose one segment. But thought this one would be fun, even if it’s rough and unfinished.
Stamets held his smug look as Culber watched the tips of the Commanders ears go red. He might have been staring at the back of his head but he didn’t need to see his eyes to know the fury that would be held in them, directed at Stamets. He seemed to have that effect on people. The Commanders body was tense, and Culber watched as the man’s fingers inched towards the hilt of his blade. Bad move, Commander.
In a flurry of movement the Commander brandished his weapon, making a move to lunge towards Stamets. Stamets reeled backwards but was stopped short of moving to a safe distance by the console behind him. His reaction was a poor automatic response, he didn’t reach for his own dagger, didn’t assume any defensive or offensive stances and he didn’t adequately assess his surroundings before pissing the Commander off. He will chastise him later for this.
In the moment that the commander lunges, Culber does too. He was already making his move towards the two of them as soon as he calculated the mans intent through his body language. Culber’s hand seized the Commanders arm before he could come into contact with Stamets, the tip of the blade only a breath away from piercing him. The Commander freezes on contact, whipping his wild eyes around to see Culber. He was right; they’re filled with fury. Stamets really did have quite a way with people.
The Commander searched Culbers face, then his uniform in turn. When his eyes settled on his rank his eyes shifted from fury to fear, though his face remained cold and neutral. “Admiral Culber.” He blinks as something unknown passes over his face. “How long have you been with us?”
Culber smiles but it does not reach his eyes. “Long enough.” He says without an attempt to hide the malice behind his words.
With a quick twist of the arm in his grip, the Commander’s strength no match to his own, he contorts his arm behind his back. It’s a painful position, the force in which Culber holds him is threatening to pull his joints apart, so he does the smart thing and drops dagger. There is a hypogun at his neck before he can start to spew any pathetic reasoning to justify his attempt on Stamets’ life - before he can offer any sort of weak bargaining and reduce into a pitiful bubbling mess. Culber presses the release button, jabbing a short needle into the foolish commanders neck releasing the contents of the vial. He Instantly goes limp and Culber lets the man fall to the ground in a crumpled heap with an undignified thud.
“Keep talking like that, Lieutenant, and next time that will be you on the floor.” He spits, re-holstering his hypogun.
Stamets eyes him warily. “Is he dead?”
“No.” Stamets gives him confused look. “Not yet. He’ll wish he was long before I’m finished with him.”
Stamets frowns. “You didn’t have it in mind to rescue me when you got here, so why are you here, Admiral?”
Culber reaches into a compartment on his utility belt then tosses a data module at him. “Test results. Some adjustments to the compounds need to be made. They’re not yielding the results I need, Lieutenant. The results that I want.”
Stamets scowels as he turns the data module over in his hand as he walks back to his station to plug it in, stepping over the unconscious commander on his way, but not without giving him a kick in the side first.
The data pooled onto the screens before him and began without a word to rifle through the lines. Culber leant against the console watching him as he worked. His eyes were quick, acting in quick reflex to his work, siphoning through the code with speed and precision. It was a commendable skill, invaluable in his position, but Stamets needed to apply that to combat training too. It was painfully apparent that he was a new recruit, recently a civilian, and thrust into a moderate rank without proper training to accompany it. He needed to have better reflexes than just his ability to code in order to survive serving under the Empire.
“Your combat skills are atrocious.” Culber said, breaking Stamets concentration momentarily, which he was awarded a filthy scowl for.
“I’m a scientist, not a soldier, Doctor.” he said a little too vehemently.
“And the way you talk to your superiors will get you killed quicker than you can say Amantia.” Stamets continued to glare at his code with increased intensity. “I can’t be around every time to save your soft ass.”
With that Stamets flicked his attention back to Culber. He looked taken back for a moment.
“You need extra training,” Culber continued, unphased. “Take on the combat training simulations. You need them.”
“I don’t have time for simulations.” Stamets grumbled, taping at the screen harder than usual. “I don’t have time for games.”
“Fine. Then die. Although then I won’t have anyone to create such devastatingly beautiful bio hacks anymore. So really asking you is acting in my own interest.” Did I just flirt? He thinks, surprising himself.
“Is that an order?” Stamets asks skeptically.
“No.” the tone that Culber answers is more genuine than he thought himself capable of anymore, surprising himself again.
Stamets frowns in thought, and Culber isn’t sure if its from his suggestion or from what he’s working on. “A compromise.” he says, pulling the data module free from it’s socket, holding it out to Culber. “You teach me. You’ve clearly survived long enough to get to where you are, Admiral.”
Culber didn’t know what about that made him smile, but it did.
