Finally Off the Ship

Posted on Mon 28th Nov, 2016 @ 5:21am by
Edited on on Mon 28th Nov, 2016 @ 5:41am

576 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Murder on the Silent Night Express
Location: Video Game Arcade, Deck 682
Timeline: MD1, 0730 hours
Tags: cristree

It was such a freaking relief to be off the Silent Night, Cris Tree thought as he settled into the chair at the gaming computer and inserted a bar of gold-pressed latinum into the slot. Using hard cash forced him to stop playing at a certain point and prevented him from spending all of his money, which he had done once when he'd used his credit stick to pay.

Cris suppressed a shudder. That act of stupidity had meant that he'd been stuck on the ship with Captain Kringle during its next stop at a port, instead of being able to escape for a couple of hours. Kringle's feet hurt him so badly that he didn't like to walk farther than was strictly necessary and so rarely left the ship. But instead of being sensible about it and getting his bunions or whatever it was removed, or using a wheelchair, the idiot insisted on preserving his supposed dignity by walking on feet that clearly pained him with every step and certainly did not sweeten his temper. He still performed his own inspections, and the pain in his feet made him critical as hell--to the point where compassion for him had simply withered away.

But enough about the captain--ex-captain--Cris thought. The asshole and his aching feet were history. Time to come here and do what he came for--immerse himself in the glory that was Starfleet: Universe.

He keyed in his username and password and reviewed his resources and play history. His ship needed some repairs. Cris navigated it to a nearby space station and used a combination of his own crew and his game credits to pay for outside contractors. Before long, he was off on a new mission to hunt down a Borg Cube that had begun attacking planets and assimilating people.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Cris presumed the voice was talking to someone else until he felt a hand clasp his shoulder and shake him slightly. "Sir."

He flinched, not used to being touched. "Huh--what?"

A Trill in a green Marine uniform towered over him. "Are you a Mr. Criston Tree, crewman on the SS Silent Night?

Cris gave the Marine a wry look. "Yeah. Why?"

"I've been ordered to escort you back to Bay 56 for quarantine, sir."

"Quarantine?" Cris echoed. "I'm not sick."

"You are a person of interest in a murder investigation, sir. All of your ship's crew are required to keep to the docking bay until this has been cleared up."

Cris shivered. It only made sense that they were all under suspicion for Kringle's death, but it was still frightening. Better not to think about that. Better to just concentrate on the good stuff. "Aw, come on! I've been dying to play here for weeks! The gamer community is all excited that Vanguard's Promenade is back up and running. There's talk of having a LARP-Con including an Ingress Mission Week here soon."

The Marine gave Cris a blank look. "A what?"

"Only the biggest live-action role-play gaming convention in the Federation! And while the rest of those fools are LARPing, I can rack up a ton of AP and collect lots of Mind Units."

"Do you not have apps on your PADD?" the Marine inquired, looking as if a migraine was coming on.

Cris sighed. He was used to getting that look when people spoke to him.

OFF

Cris Tree
Crewman, SS Silent Night

 

RSS Feed

Comments (1)