On the Wings of Dirty Angels, Part 5
Posted on Wed Jun 28th, 2017 @ 1:01pm by Lieutenant JG Jai
Edited on on Wed Jun 28th, 2017 @ 1:02pm
Mission:
Fastest Ship in the Quadrant
Location: Asteroid Blue Heaven
Tags: Jai
769 words - 1.5 OF Standard Post Measure
"...and now on to sports. Time trials started today for the Antarian Trans-Stellar Rally. Reporting from the starship Vesta, our own Jorb Kh'tar has more details."
"Qon, it was fast and furious here today, where the Terrellian team once more beat all expectations when they..."
The mention of the Vesta caught his attention, stealing it away from the patient as the boy's dark eyes glanced up at the monitor overhead. A sector-wide news broadcast filtered through the background noise, as the young monk was finishing up work on an Imhotep man's shoulder.
Lothian was an admitted thief and smuggler. He considered those some of his better traits, or so he said. Among his worse were swindler and con man, but it seemed that the wars that had once ravaged this sector had left him with a few too many wounds and bereft of a place to call home. The planet he had called home had been traded to the Aksani as part of the peace negotiations that had culminated in the present armistice.
In so many ways, what Jai was hearing sounded very much like the Cardassian-Federation Peace Treaty that had been signed in 2367. Several worlds had swapped borders, and the people of those worlds suffered similar tales of woe.
"...so there I was, two cups and a gladius, with a cheater up my sleeve and a small fortune on the table," Lothian was saying. The old Imhotep pirate rambling on as Jai worked on a rotator cuff that was stiffened almost beyond use by the scar tissue that had formed around it. "I thought I'd just won the lottery, and then Marty had to walk into the bar."
"Marty?" the boy echoed, without looking up. Shutting down the dermal regenerator, the young monk put the diagnostic device away before he looked up at the man. "There, try it now."
"Marty, Bertha's lover - if you can believe such a thing," Lothian explained, even as he moved his arm and shoulder. There was a murmur of appreciation. "Hasn't felt this good since I was your age."
The boy offered a wan smile in reply. "So what of the game?"
"Not much to tell. The whole table went up over end once Marty came into the bar."
Jai's expression went blank, as the boy wondered for a moment if his universal translator was malfunctioning.
Lothian gave a gruff laugh, before clapping the boy on the shoulder. "Not all lovers enjoy one another's company," the old man intoned sagely. "In fact, some are sparked to violence. We were running for cover and just hoping to get out of there with our lives."
For some reason, love and violence didn't seem like they'd belong in the same sentence. Were these robots or Klingons? "That sounds... complicated," Jai noted finally.
Lothian gave a smile. "Women usually are. Mechanical or not," the man uttered, rotating his arm and flexing the shoulder a second time. Then, he looked down at the diminutive physician. "My thanks. Pirates make good smugglers, but terrible doctors."
Bowing, Jai demonstrated his respects as Lothian stepped out of the room. Passing through the threshold, K'Ythri stepped into the hold that had been re-purposed into an infirmary. "Well, it seems you've upheld your end of our bargain," the Aksani man said gruffly.
Plucking a small padd-like device from off his belt, the man input a sequence of commands and then held the device out for Jai to take. "Show that to Bertha. She'll see you're provided payment."
Bowing a second time, the boy intoned the obligatory, "Thu je che." Then, his medkit slung over one shoulder, proceeded to depart the pirate's ship.
There were all manner of questions as to whether he'd done the right thing or not, but there seemed no simple answer. He was far and away from the Federation, his ship, and had no discernible means of communicating with them. His shuttlecraft required repairs, and those repairs necessitated payment in hard currency. Something that Jai lacked as a Federation native.
So he walked amid the gray, either to do a wrong right or to right the wrong that had resulted in his being here. He knew not. But this seemed the most sensible approach, so he would follow it down where ever it might lead him.
And, in this case, that seemed to be a second visit to the Drunken Binome.
As he walked through the door, the acrid taint of burning ozone stung his nostrils.
It was his only warning before the shot rang out.
