The Cliche Team

Who: Marwood
Where: Blue Dwarf, Starbug & New France
When: After Keto brewed the formula.
Marwood looked up at the green, bulbous form of Starbug 3, one of
the fifty odd shuttles aboard Blue Dwarf, before making his way up
the steps into entry hatch. He had met with Jay, Keto and some guy
looking like something out of Stalinist Russia, and had ordered to
take a supply of the vaccine down to New France and dump it in one
of the reservoirs. He'd also been ordered to take a small group of
technicians to help him install the vaccine. To this end, there were
three khaki suited technicians sat at the co-pilot, science and
navigation desks in the cockpit, and a large tank of sparkling
liquid in the mid-section. Marwood sat himself down in the pilot's
seat and mumbled a hello to his new crew.
"Right, let's get this show on the road" Marwood said to the group
of naïve looking crewmen.
"Course plotted, retros engaged and cargo bay doors open" said the
blonde, annoyingly handsome technician sat next to him at co-pilot.
"Er…thank you, 2nd Technician…" breathed Marwood
"Anderson, sir" replied the Technician
"Thanks, Anderson"
"It's a pleasure sir."
"Right….shall we go?" Marwood didn't want to make anymore small talk.
Starbug 3 lifted up and down the half-mile runway to the cargo bay
doors. It skimmed out into the darkness, like a flea leaving a large
blue dog, the cargo bay doors closing behind it.
"ETA T-Minus 19 minutes and 11 seconds sir, shall I initiate a
handshake with French Air Space Control?" said the young Asian woman
sitting at the Science desk.
"Thanks, Stevenson right?"
"Yes sir" she said, continuing with her work on the console.
`19 minutes of awkward silence with this team of cliches. Great' was
all Marwood could think, as the ship began it's descent to the
marble planet below.
Ten minutes passed. Ten whole minutes of stunted silence. It was
like an annual meeting for the deaf, dumb and blind society. Heck,
even THEY probably talked more.
"S-Sir", said the nervous looking geeky-yet-cute technician sat at
Science.
"What is it Sanderson?" he asked, looking at her name tag.
"W-Well it s-seems there is a l-large French Battle cruiser h-
heading straight for us"
<To Be Continued>