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There are references to other art in the story. The mentions of the nudist camp "The Pines" and its patrons appear with permission from author Nick Scipio. Writer KMB allowed me to include a nod to his "Harem" series (which takes place in a separate but connected universe from my own celebrity fanfiction). I give my thanks to these great artists for letting me plug their writings. I also credit Greg Weisman, John Kovalic and the creators of all the other works mentioned in the text. I don't own any of these people's conceptions and I did not contact any artist other than KMB and Nick Scipio for prior advertising assent. However, all these artisans' labors inspire me. I hope they and their fans will appreciate the ways I have paid them homage here.In my series timeline, you can consider this tale the bridge between "Passion of Erika Christensen" Chapters 4 and 5. I would call it a "Passion" chapter, but Erika is not the lead of the story. She's just one of many important characters. I. ”“That’s not the problem,” Brad snarled. “You’re a brat. You have no idea how much you don’t know.”“I probably do,” I said. “But that’s neither here nor there. You just have to obey orders. I’ve already heard that you had trouble listening to Ensign White earlier.”“Who cares,” Private Morgan muttered. “We’re now trapped on this floating closet with a captain that isn’t old enough to shave.”“Guys, we just outperformed Ipanema in our first trial. This crew is the best in the system. Don’t get petty and I’ll get you home alive,” I said. “Now why don’t you leave Private Morrison to do his job alone.”The two missile crewmen left. Private Kelly glared at me as he passed through the doorway. I ignored their antics as I watched Private Morrison make some adjustments to the medical pod. When the door finally closed Private Morrison sighed.“I don’t like those two. They are going to cause trouble,” he said sadly.“I know, but we don’t have spare crew,” I responded. “Ensign White is dealing with.
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Valery's flight arrived an hour ago. He's checking into a hotel and will be heading to City Hall. We must be there to greet him."I nodded as my mother brought over a glass of fresh orange juice. She smiled at me as I grabbed the glass. I sat down and started drinking as she headed over to the stove to prepare her own breakfast.The meal passed in silence. My father was looking at his phone and reading what appeared to be a series of text messages, while my mother finished cooking and then sat down to devour her breakfast. I barely had time to finish my orange juice and a couple of slices of toast when my father slapped his phone into a holster and stood up. "Time to go."I swallowed a last bite from the toast. Mother snatched the plates from the table and rushed them over to the counter leaving them next to the sink as my father stood up and grabbed a jacket. I bent down and pulled my shoes on. My father ignored my antics as he strode confidently to the front door.My mother followed my.

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