November 17, 2024

Alysianah's World

All things Star Citizen

Trolley Cart Interlude

You’re asleep in your berth aboard the NightBus, dreaming of the credits you’re going to win gambling on MacArthur in Kilian. Like taking candy from a baby, you plan to fleece as many military types as possible. If you’re lucky, you might score some primo narcs to sell out of your wrecked Cutlass, turned home base, in Spider. Your mouth is full open, gargling back a snore when a knock at the door startles you awake.

TROLLEY CART INTERLUDE BY ALYSIANAH NOIRE

Audio version available on YouTube: Star Citizen Nightbus Episode2 

You’re asleep in your berth aboard the NightBus, dreaming of the credits you’re going to win gambling on MacArthur in Kilian. Like taking candy from a baby, you plan to fleece as many military types as possible. If you’re lucky, you might score some primo narcs to sell out of your wrecked Cutlass, turned home base, in Spider.

Your mouth is full open, gargling back a snore when a knock at the door startles you awake. Swiping drool off your face you grunt, “Who is it?” No reply but another knock. Caution makes you slide quietly off the cot. You creep to the door and flatten a bloodshot eye against peephole.

You see a young man dressed in an attendant’s black and purple uniform. He has a food trolley beside him. Sizing him up, he seems a bit bulky for dressing like a dandy. He has one hand on the cart and the other bent behind his back.

Releasing the cart the stranger knocks again, bellowing “Breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbles. Rubbing your chin you think, “It’s near time for it. But don’t like the look of this bloak. Hmm – Didn’t have no active warrants where we boarded but could have wherever the hell we’re rollin’ through now.” Just as the attendant is about to knock again you shout, “Sleepin. Shove off!” You wonder if you have enough time to assemble your pistol, disguised as disassembled random parts across multiple suitcases. You curse yourself for not having done it before you got snookered in the bar after boarding last night.

Turning away from the door, you scan the small berth for your luggage. As you do, you hear pressure on the door. You lean on it again, about to tell the attendant to fuck off with his breakfast. You press your eye back to the peephole.

The attendant is bent over, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he leans toward the peephole himself. There’s a personal shield crackling in front of him, it’s blue aura glowing. The hand that was behind his back, now reveals a military grade stun pulse-rifle and it’s pointed at your door. You see him press a button on the side of the massive goggles he’s wearing. Probably a radar device. You start backing away from the door.

With a shit eating grin he says, “Peekaboo, I see you. It’s time for me to earn my — BREAKFAST.”

Copyright © Alysianah Noire – 2016 All Rights reserved
Please note that this is a work of fan fiction, set in the Star Citizen universe. The marks and properties, ‘Star Citizen’, ‘Squadron 42’, ‘Cloud Imperium Games’, and ‘Roberts Space Industries’ are the property of Cloud Imperium Games Corp. and Roberts Space Industries Corp (“RSI”). All rights in the content, including places, characters, concepts, and ships produced and created by RSI relating to said marks and properties belong to RSI.

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