Aryll's long shuttle trip...

Posted on Wed 13th Jun, 2012 @ 4:49am by 1st Lieutenant Aryll LeStrat

634 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: http://sb109.sim-station.net/index.php/sim/missions/id/1
Location: Shuttle 2317 Alpha

"Hey! Scanner, I want you meet someone."

"Scanner? Why do you call him scanner?"

"Because he scans things, Gunny. Why else? He's also pretty good at fixing things, but he's got the best scanning arm this side of Sol."

"Yeah, Cap'n, what'd you want?"

"Lieutenant LeStrat, this is Gunny Vance. She's a combat technician, and explosives expert."

Aryll remembered turning, and seeing him for the first time. Tall, brown hair, broad-shouldered, sharp-blue eyes...

"Yo, LeStrat, it's your bloody turn." An unfamiliar voice said, and Aryll opened her eyes.

"That's First Lieutenant LeStrat." Another corrected, sharply.

"Don't care, She ain't in marine uniform. You gonna call me, or not?" The private asked.

"Sure, just to get you to shut the hell up for 5 seconds." Aryll said. "How much is the wager?"

"All of it." The Private said.

"Fine." She said, shoving the last of her Replicator allotment chips into the pot.

The dealer counted the Privates, and then Aryll's, and handed her back four. "Too much." He noted. Then put his own in, save three.

The private put his hand down first, three Kings, two queens. Impressive.

The dealer threw his cards down on the pot, annoyed. Two twos, two fours, and a three.

The private put a hand on the pot, and Aryll smacked it with her walking stick. "You don't count your winnings until everyone's cards are on the table." She said, scoldingly.

"Well, you put 'em down then, Lestrat."

"First. Lieutenant. LeStrat." Aryll said. "I earned my rank, thank you very much."

The dealer pointed a finger at the private. "Once more, and you'll be in the brig for a week, once we get to Protector. That's enough, Jensen."

Aryll put down a two. Jensen laughed. Another two. He was still laughing. An ace. He wasn't paying attention. Another ace. His attention returned, and his laughing subsided.

And... another ace.

"YOU CHEATING LITTLE WENCH!" Jensen yelled, trying to lunge over the make-shift table of equipment bags.

There was a brief rush of people expecting to have to pull him off, but the sound of metal hitting bone, twice, and a resounding crack, silenced the shuttle.

Jensen was holding his arm over his chest, while the other dangled, uselessly, having been broken. A titanium rod, used as a walking stick, was still a weapon. Having been smacked, well, in the ribs, and then hard, across his fore-arm, with just such an implement, Jensen was in no position to attack. The issue was resolved, and the chatter in the shuttle resumed.

"Someone get this green kid off my winnings. I want to count how many shoes I get to buy." Aryll said, with a comical appearing unamused look on her face.

"Nah, I'm goin..." Jensen groaned, as he got up off the bags. "I'm... goin."

He made it about two steps, before passing out.

"Anyone here a medic?" The dealer asked.

Nobody spoke up.

"Guess we'll just have to leave 'em for Protector's med bay, then." He said, shrugging.

Aryll chuckled, at the marine way of handling new guys who hadn't been properly trained yet, and collected her replicator chips. She smiled, as she kept a running count. She'd be eating like a queen, in royal slippers, for the next month. She just doubted she'd be able to con any of these folks into playing Poker again, anytime soon. Not that it mattered. They wouldn't get more replicator rations for a few weeks, and she hoped they were smart enough, not to bet with ALL of their rations.

"Attention Shuttle 2317Alpha, please prepare to dock at docking bay 14." A voice came from the pilot's console.

"Roger that, Protector control. En route." The pilot noted.

Aryll took a deep breath, and hoped this would be better than her last posting.

 

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