Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.
The ship rocked as vectored for approach to Nott Terminal. Asher hunched in his seat listening to bolts screech from torque. From that, and from the man flailing next to him.
He glanced sideways. Riley, if Asher recalled, bounced in his restraints, swinging high enough for Asher to duck beneath. Thank the stars the roaring engines drowned out his prattling. Weeks out of Sol had been too much.
The seats tilted forward as the ship landed, but the bolts held. Asher unstrapped, sliding into the aisle before Riley could finish the work.
Asher’s ears buzzed as the ship went silent. The cargo doors slid open. The worn, but whole, corridors of Nott Terminal appeared. As did the station guard. Asher frowned.
“Hey,” Riley wailed. Asher glanced back. The buffoon was mostly free of his restraints and stumbled out of the remainder. “We’re mates now.”
Asher bit back a retort and glanced at the guards and their intense appraisal. He turned back to Riley and rolled his eyes, making a gesture. The man went red, his eyes tightened, and Asher knew what was next.
He stood as Riley swung. Crumpling to the floor, he curled up, wrapping his arms about his head. The guards pulled Riley off, and Asher nudged his teeth with his tongue. Mostly intact. One was a bit loose.
The guards looked at him disgusted as they hauled Riley away. Others were taken too, but not Asher. He grinned at the ceiling. He’d managed to hid his acumen.
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