Extraction

Posted on Mon Apr 7th, 2025 @ 2:57am by Captain T’Kal & Lieutenant Commander David Erickson

1,151 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: ARYL 1X01: Bound for Cold Frontier
Location: Recreation Area II, Deep Space Station K-11
Timeline: Evening, approx 3 weeks after departing Earth Spacedock

ON

As the old saying goes, no one likes a dom-jot hustler, and the middle-aged man dressed in a trader’s jacket appeared to like his opponent even less. His brow was furrowed and his salt-and-pepper hair was unkempt from him running his hand through it in frustration more than once.

His opponent kept his confident smirk as he bent his tall frame over the table once again. His blonde hair was combed neatly back, giving his blue eyes an unobstructed view of the board as he smoothly swept his arm forward, the cue sending the terik banking along two jots and into straight nines for the second time. “Jot, jot, I get the pot,” he said cheerily, picking up the padd with the Federation credits they’d wagered and proceeding to transfer them to his account.

“Three games in a row,” the trader grumbled. “No one’s that lucky. You’re cheating.”

“Yeah, no,” the blonde man said, laughing. “I’m definitely not cheating.”

“Prove it!” the trader said, angrily. “One more! Double stakes! Let’s see if your ‘luck--” he made a pair of exaggerated air quotation marks-- “holds out.”

The blonde tapped the padd and shook his head. “No thanks.”

The trader blinked and stammered. “Y-you won’t? Why not? Afraid you can’t fake another victory? Helps when your dupe doesn’t realize what you’re up to, doesn’t it!”

“Helps when he’s stupid, too,” the blonde man said, pocketing the padd in his khaki trousers. He straightened his polo shirt and grabbed his cue.

Now the trader’s face turned as red as the first ball and he walked up to his reluctant opponent. “Are you calling me stupid, because you think I can’t play? Set up a game and let’s see who’s stupid.”

“No, sorry, you misunderstand me,” the blonde said, looking down his nose at the man. “I think you’re stupid because you’ve fallen for one of the classic blunders. The first is, of course, never get involved in a land war on Tellar. And the second is, if you’re going to try and hustle someone in dom-jot, don’t make it so obvious.”

The trader sputtered and threw his cue down on the table. “I’m hustling you?” he said, trying to sound incredulous. “You’re the one who took me for six thousand credits!”

“Yeah, that would be the first point,” the blonde said. “Who carries around that many credits on hand to bet with? Plus you’ve been playing with your non-dominant hand to avoid accidentally relying on muscle memory, you’ve known when to compliment me on tricky shots, and you have three guys larger than me as muscle in case I do what I’m about to do, so why would I double my bet when I can just walk away a winner?” He stopped, realizing he may have tipped his hand too much as said muscle stood up and began advancing.

“Then I guess I’ll just take my credits back,” the trader said as he joined his backup in cornering the man against the wall. “And a few of yours for my troubles.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” the blonde said, backing up to the wall and rapidly glancing around the room. “But that would also be pretty stupid. Want to know why?”

“Do tell,” the trader said, snarling. “What smart-assed thought did you have that will spare you from the ass-kicking you’re due?”

“Three words,” the blonde man said. “Captain on deck!”

The gang stopped and looked confused, then turned to see a Starfleet captain and a few security officers standing with her.

“Captain! Good to have you join us!” the blonde man said. “These gentlemen were just about to give a very physical confession to dom-jot hustling.

The muscle immediately backed off a step and the trader looked daggers at the man before smoothing his hair and looking back at the security men. “No, no, nothing like that,” he said. “We just had a minor misunderstanding.”

A single arched eyebrow communicated everything that both the blond man and the trader needed to know. Captain T'Kal was slightly amused, while also not pleased.

"Mr. Erickson," she said, bemused. "One day, you will look for me to have your back and find that I am otherwise engaged. What will you do then?" She then looked about the room to the gathered Starfleet personnel and civilians. "Leave," she commanded.

The bar quickly emptied, save for David, T'kal and her security. David calmly walked over to the bar, grabbed an abandoned drink and downed it quickly, then walked up to the captain, looking her in the eye. "One day, you will look for me to have your back and find that I am otherwise engaged," he said, imitating her intonation, if not her voice. The left side of his mouth then turned upwards and he gave her a cheeky grin. "And they say Vulcans don't lie. Shows what they know," he said, laughing. "Good to see you, Chief."

"Likewise," she said with a nod. "You know why I am here?"

"Well," David said, exaggerating the pause, "either Solan has finally come around to the idea that I'm charming and will have dinner with me, or Starfleet has decided my assignment in purgatory is complete and I'm back on a bridge. Given you're in uniform, I'm guessing the latter."

"If it were the former, I doubt you would survive the experience," T'Kal quipped. "Nevertheless, you are correct. USS Ark Royal. Chief Navigator. My team has already processed the necessary administrative measures. Your expertise on this Sector is an asset." She paused a moment before continuing. "I need you working for me again, David."

"I can think of no higher compliment," David said, grinning. "In the mean time..." he reached into his pocket and pulled out the padd he'd slipped in there, grinning. "I have a few extra credits to burn through before we ship out. I might go get myself a good meal and a few accessories to bring with; I didn't take many personal effects when I transferred here."

"Only logical," T'Kal agreed. "That said, if you are flush with credits and planning to use some of them to buy a nice dinner, you can treat your former Chief to a meal, permitting us to catch up. I understand there is a very good Italian restaurant two decks up."

"Lead the way, Captain," David said. As T'kal turned and exited the bar, he fell in practiced step to her right, the security men behind her.

"Seriously, though, she hasn't even asked about me?" he said as the doors closed behind them.

END


Captain T’Kal
Commanding Officer, USS Ark Royal

Lieutenant Commander David Erickson
Chief Navigator, USS Ark Royal

 

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