Laughter surrounded them. The conversation had attracted the attention of people at nearby tables who were curious to watch the match. A couple of rows beyond their rapidly growing circle bets were being placed.
Still smiling sweetly, the woman removed a pair of knives from her boots and, reaching under the table, stuck the blades through a pair of slots on either side of the surface. All but an inch of the blades stood tall and proud in the lounge’s artificial light.
“Sagittaran rules it is,” she said coldly twisting the blades from underneath. There was an audible click as each tang was locked into place by mechanisms only seen if one were to lay on the floor.
“I was wondering what those holes were for,” one of the Captain’s friends muttered.
Things were about to get dramatically interesting and Brandell was not certain he wanted that kind of interesting in his life at that centon. Looking at his friends, he knew he couldn’t back out now. His personal reputation was at stake as was that of his Colony. Lieutenant Starbuck would have laughed at him if he had been here.
He finished the tankerd of alcohol, telling himself that she was just a girl and not very strong at that where as he had just finished working out in the KOBOL’s gymnasium and was well muscled. No, he’d win this round then take her to Life Center to get her hand bandaged up. Maybe he’d kiss her boo boo as well just to be nice.
Elbows down on the table’s surface between the knife points, the pair clasped hands and the crowd murmured their excitement.
The pair of Scorpions at the corner table didn’t move. They’d seen this scenario played out before and knew without even looking what was going to happen. The Captain motioned to the barkeep for another round of drinks for him and his wingmate as the signal to start the game sounded.
The twin security officers who were cleaning up the mess they had created paused to look towards the game, but their Lieutenant cleared her throat drawing their attention back to the task at hand and they reluctantly turned away from the fun.
For a couple of centons clasped fists stayed upright for the most part before wavering first one way, then the next. Strain showed on the player’s faces while those who had bet urged on their chosen champion.
Wilda was starting to worry that she had gotten in over her head, even though she had seen him earlier lifting weights. He could press just a little more than she normally did and she vowed that if she came out of this without embarrassment she was going to up her routine.
The man returned his opponent’s smile, sensing her focus shifting.
“Care to… surrender?” he asked, grunting the words out. “I’ll go easy on you. I… promise.”
“Suck fumes… flyboy!”
With renewed effort, Wilda slowly moved her opponent’s hand back. If she could just move him a few more centimeters she’d have him off balance. Once there it would take little to finish the game.
Sensing his disadvantage and a painful loss eminent, Brandell took a deep breath and mustered every ounce of strength he had left. The alcohol he had been drinking before the game was starting to wear off replaced by the adrenaline rushing through his system. He’d press her hand only so far, nigh her with he own weapons. He’d claim his satisfaction with First Blood. After all, he really didn’t want to hurt her. It was just a game after all.
Just as her hand was reaching that point where balance would work against her, Wilda gave a war cry nad exerted all of her strength, pushing her opponent’s hand backwards. Panic set in and just as his flesh touched the tip of the balance Brandell jerked his hand away, breaking the connection with the woman. In that split micron he realized that no matter what he did, one of them was going to get hurt. Blinking was too slow for the speed in which the lieutenant’s hand went flying onto the point he had attempted to avoid.
Gasps from the crowd seemed to suck the very air from the room as the sound of flesh hit wood. Three heartbeats more and everyone in the room exhaled in unison. The redhead’s hand lay flat palm down on the table, the blade of the knife sticking up from between her middle and index fingers.
“You lose,” she purred, staring at the man across the table from her. She hadn’t meant for it to sound as sensual as it did, but the excitement worked like a drug on the woman.
Lost bets were paid and winning bets were claimed. People looked either dejected at the parting of them from their coin, or elated to have a few extra cubits finding a new home in their pouches.
No one was more pleased about the outcome that the woman herself. She was certain that when the Caprican had pulled away in fear that she would be visiting Dr. Majel once more that secton, and for the very same injury. The scar on the back of her hand was a reminder and a personal badge of honor. Yes, she could have had it removed, but what would she have to brag about if she let that happen? The doctor had made her promise not to do that again.
Better she had told a gale force wind to stop blowing for all Wilda would listen. Maybe some day, but today was not that day.
After retrieving her knives from the table and returning them to the sheathes in her boots, she stood to leave. The man in the chair just started. Was he just a shade paler now than when they first started their game? Serves him right.
As she turned away she heard a chair scraping floor, and a hand lighjtly touched her elbow.
“Don’t go. Let me buy you a drink.”
He was right there at her elbow, his demeaner suddenly changed.
“Sorry, but I’m all drinked out. Maybe next time. I’m going to find something more entertaining.”
“You want some company?”
“Sorry, but I’m looking for more excitement than you can offer.”
“How do you know until you try?”
She looked him up and down. Earlier she had acted like some school girl chasing after a boy, but now the situation had changed and she found she liked this new development.
“Why not? I wonder how much trouble we CAN get into together.”
☆★☆★☆
“But I MUST see the Commander! It’s urgent that she be informed of what has happened,” the rotund man exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, Sire, but the commander left orders that she was not to be disturbed.”
Indeed, Commander Phoenix had a guard set on her quarters to ward off such visits while she was busy. In light of all the interruptions she was even further behind taking care of the most important details of her job. She regretted not having the twins on her door as Eyjan had done on past occasions, but they would be out of commission for a while. Perhaps their fellow Security officers would be impressing upon them the merits of good behavior since this little escapade had left the team with a couple of shifts to fill with the bodies they did not have in the first place.
“Young man, do you know who I am?” “No sir I don’t, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
As had the last three people who had come on board the KOBOL with the express purpose of seeing the commander for whatever reasons they had deemed important enough not to make an appointment for. The guard was tired and digging deep to maintain his composure in the face of scathing remarks, preening and strutting their oh so vaunted important ranks as well as the sly verbal insults was wearing thin on the young man. Deep down he was certain that when he was finally able to retire to his bunk for some badly needed shut eye that he’d find another couple of grey hairs on his head that hadn’t been there when he woke that morning.
“You’re damned right I am, sonny.” The man drew himself up to his full height which wasn’t much higher than the guard’s shoulder and tried to puff out his chest which only resulted in his stomach proceeding him.
“I am Sire Rodan of Taura, Council elect, and Commander Phoenix will certainly hear about your rudeness young man. I have no time to waste on ground pounding muck suckers like you, sir, so step aside and let me pass.”
Great Mother Goddess, yet another fracking burecrat! This one seemed just as bad if not worse than his predicessors.
“I’m sorry, but I have my orders, sir.” The young man replied.
Lords of Kobol save me, he pleaded silently.
“Who’s your superior officer? I demand to see him at once!”
Before the ensign could answer a voice boomed from the intersection of the corridor.
“Keep it down out here or I’ll call Ships Security and have you hauled away in chains!”
Rodan turned as a tall, dark skinned man strode towards them. His left arm still bandaged, was held close to his body in the sling. The guard recognized him from the daily briefing as being Chiron,. Personal assistant to Supreme Admiral Thorbin. Just what official rank the man actually held was still a mystery. For the centon he was to be addressed as Agent or Sire. To the ensign either one seemed a little pretentious in the first place.
“Who let you on board, Rodent?”
The Tauron almost seemed to exhale clouds of smoke from his nose and his face flushed bright red at the rude nickname. In short – no pun intended – the man looked as though he could burst at any centon.
“Chiron! Talk some sense into this… this … guard daggett! I have to see the Commander immediately, but this imbecile refuses to let me pass. Order him to stand aside.”
“Is what he says true, Ensign? Are you refusing to announce this man’s presence to the Commander?”
“Yes sir. Commander’s working at this centon and she ordered me to keep everyone out until further notice.”
Chiron turned to the man in the robes and shrugged helplessly.
“Sorry, Rodentl I’ve done all I can, but orders are orders. Allow me to personally escoprt you back to your shuttle so you can return to your ship. It’s the last I can do,” he finished with a smile.
“No. I refuse to degrade myself or my station by being seen in the presence of the likes of you. I can see myself back to the shuttle bay, thank you very much.”
With that the man stalked off in a flurry of brightly colored robes swirling about him as he went.
“And don’t call me Rodent!” he exclaimed without turning around.
One the self professed council elect had rounded the corner both men breathed a sigh or relief.
Chiron snickered, than laughed.
“What did HE want to pester the Commander about?”
“Just the food shortage,“ the man replied with a yawn. If his relief didn’t get here soon he was going to fall asleep right where he stood.
“Does she know about it?”
“Oh yes, sir. Yahrens ago. I think that’s the first ting she’s addressing in the morning.”
It wasn’t as if the subject was a secret. Phoenix had made an announcement to Security Chief Jartan regarding the rumored hoarding of food and other badly needed supplies. His team along with a handful of warriors were to search every ship and distribute what supplies they could find equally among the citizens of their small fleet.
“Well woujld you please see to it the CXommande rgets this before you go off duty?”
Chiron held out a folded piece of paper which the young man took.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2014-11-21 04:35 am (UTC)Still smiling sweetly, the woman removed a pair of knives from her boots and, reaching under the table, stuck the blades through a pair of slots on either side of the surface. All but an inch of the blades stood tall and proud in the lounge’s artificial light.
“Sagittaran rules it is,” she said coldly twisting the blades from underneath. There was an audible click as each tang was locked into place by mechanisms only seen if one were to lay on the floor.
“I was wondering what those holes were for,” one of the Captain’s friends muttered.
Things were about to get dramatically interesting and Brandell was not certain he wanted that kind of interesting in his life at that centon. Looking at his friends, he knew he couldn’t back out now. His personal reputation was at stake as was that of his Colony. Lieutenant Starbuck would have laughed at him if he had been here.
He finished the tankerd of alcohol, telling himself that she was just a girl and not very strong at that where as he had just finished working out in the KOBOL’s gymnasium and was well muscled. No, he’d win this round then take her to Life Center to get her hand bandaged up. Maybe he’d kiss her boo boo as well just to be nice.
Elbows down on the table’s surface between the knife points, the pair clasped hands and the crowd murmured their excitement.
The pair of Scorpions at the corner table didn’t move. They’d seen this scenario played out before and knew without even looking what was going to happen. The Captain motioned to the barkeep for another round of drinks for him and his wingmate as the signal to start the game sounded.
The twin security officers who were cleaning up the mess they had created paused to look towards the game, but their Lieutenant cleared her throat drawing their attention back to the task at hand and they reluctantly turned away from the fun.
For a couple of centons clasped fists stayed upright for the most part before wavering first one way, then the next. Strain showed on the player’s faces while those who had bet urged on their chosen champion.
Wilda was starting to worry that she had gotten in over her head, even though she had seen him earlier lifting weights. He could press just a little more than she normally did and she vowed that if she came out of this without embarrassment she was going to up her routine.
The man returned his opponent’s smile, sensing her focus shifting.
“Care to… surrender?” he asked, grunting the words out. “I’ll go easy on you. I… promise.”
“Suck fumes… flyboy!”
With renewed effort, Wilda slowly moved her opponent’s hand back. If she could just move him a few more centimeters she’d have him off balance. Once there it would take little to finish the game.
Sensing his disadvantage and a painful loss eminent, Brandell took a deep breath and mustered every ounce of strength he had left. The alcohol he had been drinking before the game was starting to wear off replaced by the adrenaline rushing through his system. He’d press her hand only so far, nigh her with he own weapons. He’d claim his satisfaction with First Blood. After all, he really didn’t want to hurt her. It was just a game after all.
Just as her hand was reaching that point where balance would work against her, Wilda gave a war cry nad exerted all of her strength, pushing her opponent’s hand backwards. Panic set in and just as his flesh touched the tip of the balance Brandell jerked his hand away, breaking the connection with the woman. In that split micron he realized that no matter what he did, one of them was going to get hurt. Blinking was too slow for the speed in which the lieutenant’s hand went flying onto the point he had attempted to avoid.
Gasps from the crowd seemed to suck the very air from the room as the sound of flesh hit wood. Three heartbeats more and everyone in the room exhaled in unison. The redhead’s hand lay flat palm down on the table, the blade of the knife sticking up from between her middle and index fingers.
“You lose,” she purred, staring at the man across the table from her. She hadn’t meant for it to sound as sensual as it did, but the excitement worked like a drug on the woman.
Lost bets were paid and winning bets were claimed. People looked either dejected at the parting of them from their coin, or elated to have a few extra cubits finding a new home in their pouches.
No one was more pleased about the outcome that the woman herself. She was certain that when the Caprican had pulled away in fear that she would be visiting Dr. Majel once more that secton, and for the very same injury. The scar on the back of her hand was a reminder and a personal badge of honor. Yes, she could have had it removed, but what would she have to brag about if she let that happen? The doctor had made her promise not to do that again.
Better she had told a gale force wind to stop blowing for all Wilda would listen. Maybe some day, but today was not that day.
After retrieving her knives from the table and returning them to the sheathes in her boots, she stood to leave. The man in the chair just started. Was he just a shade paler now than when they first started their game? Serves him right.
As she turned away she heard a chair scraping floor, and a hand lighjtly touched her elbow.
“Don’t go. Let me buy you a drink.”
He was right there at her elbow, his demeaner suddenly changed.
“Sorry, but I’m all drinked out. Maybe next time. I’m going to find something more entertaining.”
“You want some company?”
“Sorry, but I’m looking for more excitement than you can offer.”
“How do you know until you try?”
She looked him up and down. Earlier she had acted like some school girl chasing after a boy, but now the situation had changed and she found she liked this new development.
“Why not? I wonder how much trouble we CAN get into together.”
☆★☆★☆
“But I MUST see the Commander! It’s urgent that she be informed of what has happened,” the rotund man exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, Sire, but the commander left orders that she was not to be disturbed.”
Indeed, Commander Phoenix had a guard set on her quarters to ward off such visits while she was busy. In light of all the interruptions she was even further behind taking care of the most important details of her job. She regretted not having the twins on her door as Eyjan had done on past occasions, but they would be out of commission for a while. Perhaps their fellow Security officers would be impressing upon them the merits of good behavior since this little escapade had left the team with a couple of shifts to fill with the bodies they did not have in the first place.
“Young man, do you know who I am?”
“No sir I don’t, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
As had the last three people who had come on board the KOBOL with the express purpose of seeing the commander for whatever reasons they had deemed important enough not to make an appointment for. The guard was tired and digging deep to maintain his composure in the face of scathing remarks, preening and strutting their oh so vaunted important ranks as well as the sly verbal insults was wearing thin on the young man. Deep down he was certain that when he was finally able to retire to his bunk for some badly needed shut eye that he’d find another couple of grey hairs on his head that hadn’t been there when he woke that morning.
“You’re damned right I am, sonny.” The man drew himself up to his full height which wasn’t much higher than the guard’s shoulder and tried to puff out his chest which only resulted in his stomach proceeding him.
“I am Sire Rodan of Taura, Council elect, and Commander Phoenix will certainly hear about your rudeness young man. I have no time to waste on ground pounding muck suckers like you, sir, so step aside and let me pass.”
Great Mother Goddess, yet another fracking burecrat! This one seemed just as bad if not worse than his predicessors.
“I’m sorry, but I have my orders, sir.” The young man replied.
Lords of Kobol save me, he pleaded silently.
“Who’s your superior officer? I demand to see him at once!”
Before the ensign could answer a voice boomed from the intersection of the corridor.
“Keep it down out here or I’ll call Ships Security and have you hauled away in chains!”
Rodan turned as a tall, dark skinned man strode towards them. His left arm still bandaged, was held close to his body in the sling. The guard recognized him from the daily briefing as being Chiron,. Personal assistant to Supreme Admiral Thorbin. Just what official rank the man actually held was still a mystery. For the centon he was to be addressed as Agent or Sire. To the ensign either one seemed a little pretentious in the first place.
“Who let you on board, Rodent?”
The Tauron almost seemed to exhale clouds of smoke from his nose and his face flushed bright red at the rude nickname. In short – no pun intended – the man looked as though he could burst at any centon.
“Chiron! Talk some sense into this… this … guard daggett! I have to see the Commander immediately, but this imbecile refuses to let me pass. Order him to stand aside.”
“Is what he says true, Ensign? Are you refusing to announce this man’s presence to the Commander?”
“Yes sir. Commander’s working at this centon and she ordered me to keep everyone out until further notice.”
Chiron turned to the man in the robes and shrugged helplessly.
“Sorry, Rodentl I’ve done all I can, but orders are orders. Allow me to personally escoprt you back to your shuttle so you can return to your ship. It’s the last I can do,” he finished with a smile.
“No. I refuse to degrade myself or my station by being seen in the presence of the likes of you. I can see myself back to the shuttle bay, thank you very much.”
With that the man stalked off in a flurry of brightly colored robes swirling about him as he went.
“And don’t call me Rodent!” he exclaimed without turning around.
One the self professed council elect had rounded the corner both men breathed a sigh or relief.
Chiron snickered, than laughed.
“What did HE want to pester the Commander about?”
“Just the food shortage,“ the man replied with a yawn. If his relief didn’t get here soon he was going to fall asleep right where he stood.
“Does she know about it?”
“Oh yes, sir. Yahrens ago. I think that’s the first ting she’s addressing in the morning.”
It wasn’t as if the subject was a secret. Phoenix had made an announcement to Security Chief
Jartan regarding the rumored hoarding of food and other badly needed supplies. His team along with a handful of warriors were to search every ship and distribute what supplies they could find equally among the citizens of their small fleet.
“Well woujld you please see to it the CXommande rgets this before you go off duty?”
Chiron held out a folded piece of paper which the young man took.
“Be glad to, sir.”
“Good night, Ensign.”
Good night, sir.”
☆★☆★☆