“What the am I reading?”

Laurent’s voice bounced off the aluminum walls, back to the cargo bay where Commander Stephanopoulos leveraged a crowbar into a wooden shipping container.

“They call it fan fiction,” she yelled back twisting the crowbar further into the crate.

“Fan fiction, for a fucking meme?”

“Yes, its a long, very dull story. Ignore that. Watch the YouTube.” Always underestimating her strength, she pushed the crowbar too far, and the door popped off the crate crashing to the metal floor. Opening these crates, she always drifted into memories of Christmases with her family. Long before the waves of fire destroyed her home and left her weeping, the only time, at Laurent’s feet.

A trickle of piano music bounced around the hull.

“Oh my fucking christ!” she heard him between howls of laughter, “that is the best thing I’ve seen since our morons let the faggots leave Nusku.”

“I thought you could use that,” she replied through a wide smile.