<USS Banshee> Past...Again?

  • From: "Amy Jerint" <heathermclouson@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: ussbanshee@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Mon, 17 Mar 2003 01:05:49 -0500


Heather Mclouson


"Can you take me here?" I pointed to a spot on the map of Earth. I was talking to a man at the loading dock for transport ships. He was a thin, greasy, unwashed, rat faced, shady sort of character. He sniffed his nose rubbing it on the back of his sleeve while he looked at the spot I pointed to.

"Neow you listen her laydie," I could barely control my urge to cringe at the foul odor that emitted from his mouth, smelling something to the equivalent of sewage and dead animal, "Ah kin take ye inywheres ye be wantin ta go. Fer a price a course."

I nodded and held out actual credits I had pulled out of my account, but snatched them back from his grabby hands as he reached for them, "No. You don?t get paid until I get dropped off. Understand?" I was being as blunt as possible remembering vaguely dealing with people like this before.

I wished so badly to smile in triumph as the rat spat and stuttered at me, wallowing in his defeat. "Wiell fine then laydie. Whut is the naime of this her town ye be wantin to drop off at?" He was looking intently at the map I help out for him, his beady eyes keeping a close eye on where I moved those credits to.

"Druzna, Russia. In the central part."

His rat face became even more skewed, "Whut you be wantin wit that there place?"

"I believe that?s my business. As long as you get paid I doubt you?ll care. How soon can we leave?" I admit my manner was harsh, but in dealing with subordinates, or merely beings of little or no intelligence it?s always best not to confuse them too much and to assert yourself as their superior.

He looked at me again. I could feel his small black eyes looking over every inch of me. I knew this would come, I also knew how to dress so as to pass inspection of this sort. Tight fighting leather pants and a billowing shirt, topped off with dagger holsters and a cord of woven leather encircling my head like a crown. Admittedly, most of the outfit was for show, the daggers only useful in keeping roving hands in check. But I knew that my careful planning had been well worth it when he slinked into his vehicle.

"We kin leave as soun as ye get in."

And that?s exactly what I did. Assuming a dignified posture in the seat provided to me. I did have business I needed to take care of, the question was, had I done it already...or why was I doing it...or what was I thinking? My mind is a wreck, all sense of time lost. But as I ride off in this tin can, I can?t help think that I may have lapsed my self somewhere. Is this just a case of deja vu? Or am I here for the first time...settling business...again.


Other related posts:

  • » <USS Banshee> Past...Again?