Star City - Flight 30

When the bright red Piralan had received the little scroll from his friend, the Minister of Draconic Relations, Boserro Egretudo, he had thought it was simply a follow-up note to his visit to the Abstract Destiny and, consequently, to Star City.

What he found had surprised him so much that he'd squeaked, and shortly after that his head was thrown forward and his wings were mantled with his laughter. As loud and booming as that was, it didn't take long for those that were living with him to sneak out and see just what was so funny!

"What's so funny, daddy?" Favilli asked--the newest arrival to his apartment (and the sweetest, at that!) she was still a youngster and she was perplexed by his sudden outburst.

The note wasn't, however, for Cemitae to divulge to just anybody. He managed to quiet himself and absently patted his biosynthed daughter with an extended wing. "I just got a note from a friend, darling. He's got a funny job."

"What is it?"

"He's a Minister at the space station, he has to work with other dragons and the funny things they do."

"Is that why you were laughing?" She didn't seem convinced.

"Yes, pumpkin," Cemitae crooned, nudging her to go back to her room. "Go back to your story, little one, I have to run some errands."

"Okay!" The dragonet puffed up and trotted off. Agreeable, she was--far different from the person he was about to meet!

"You're what?" Andy seemed a little green-faced, or maybe it was just in contrast to his human-formed bond's bright red skin. "Cemitae Rufasilex. Are you out of your fucking mind?! You're not going to follow up on that, are you? I know you," he spluttered, "you're going to bring back more babies, you always do!"

Cemitae was rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Well maybe, I don't know! Boserro sent me a note inviting me to the station for the first flight in over a year, what's to keep me from going?" He shrugged, grinning faintly. "I wouldn't bring back a horde."

"Yeah, not this time," Andy muttered. He crossed his arms over his chest, was standing rigidly this whole time as if his head might explode were he to move in the least. Perhaps that was true--Cemitae could almost feel the headache that he was giving his bond. "Look," the human leveled, "I know I can't stop you from doing anything, but you've already bitten off more then you can chew with your current brats--"

"They're not brats!" Cemitae interjected, sounding a little hurt.

"--Okay, kids. If you go off again and come back with more, our work with the Ala is going to suffer and we'll run the risk of being booted out, and you and I don't make any money to pay our way at the Nidus. Then where are you and your baker's dozen going to stay?"

Cemitae looked crestfallen. "I wouldn't get us kicked out of the Nidus, Andy, you're taking this out of proportion."

"Maybe, but I don't think so. You can't just fly off and have sex with every girl who catches your eye and then collect babies like marbles--the Nidus isn't a daycare."

"You're just... just bitter," Cemitae retorted, feeling defensive now. "Just because you and Adara don't get to see each other as often as you'd like doesn't mean you can pick on me, you're not being fair at all. Besides," he dropped open the piece of parchment that Boserro's typed letter was printed on, "it's not like I'm just flying off, this is an invitation!"

Andy shook his head. "You don't get it."

"You don't get it!" Cemitae wheeled away from the human and stormed off, unable to convince him that this was a good thing, natural. He never could convince Andy that anything that he wanted to do was alright... so he'd just have to prove that he could follow up with the consequences.

There was no way that he was going to miss out on this, not just because his bond didn't like kids. That wasn't fair.

By the time that the Piralan had made the proper arrangements for his offspring and with the Ala and Nidus-general, much of his anger had been blown off, and by the time that he'd arranged transport for the space station, he was back to his good old self.

This was a good thing, since he ran into the Minister sooner then he'd expected to--just after he'd purchased a hotel room and had set out for supper, in fact!

The pearlescent white dragon was sitting out on the court of a dragon-bent restaurant, and hollered to the Piralan when he spotted him. "Cemitae! I'm surprised to see you so soon! Did you get my note?"

The Avengaean perked, and soon found himself at the Minister's table. "I did, actually, that's why I'm here. How've you been, Boss'?"

The hybrid chortled. "Well, but busy. There's a lot going on now that I've been voted into the Ministry. Gearing up for 'business', again. Speaking of which, have you made a decision...?"

Cemitae simply nodded, his expression serious.

"Ah, and the verdict?"

"I'd like to take you up on it, Boserro. But I'm a little confused. Isn't it that the dragoness rises, and guys like us chase?"

"Used to be," the white corrected. "I've been changing things around a little. If you want, you can simply sign the board and I'll pass you the contact info for the ladies who sign up--you can choose who you want to visit and so on and such-forth. If you want something, ah, more traditional, we can arrange that too." He grinned, his ears tilting askance at the irony of the statement.

Cemitae chortled. "The chaser becomes the chased, is that it? That might be interesting, actually. I think I'd like that."

"You would, would you? Well we can work out details over dinner--ah, there's the waiter--let's have you order something and we can talk, meal's on me."

And that was how Cemitae Rufasilex found himself signed up on Star City's Flight Board, the first in over a year, at that!