Lt JG Imril - A Day At The Races
Chris Taylor
(( Running Track, Kerrit Dromos, City One – Rylor ))
Imril wasn’t much of a gambler. They’d managed to avoid it on Ferenginar, of all places. It wasn’t for any moral objection. They just preferred to enjoy whatever game was being played (or bet on) for its own merit. Certainly not because they didn’t put much faith in their ability to calculate constantly shifting odds based on uncontrollable and/or unknowable factors.
But that Satan’s Robot model would look pretty nice on their book shelf…
Perhaps menacingly wielding the chunk of concrete they’d kept from Callis…
So into Ensign Garlonak’s stash of prizes went some of the tchotchkes they’d picked up on the Ferengi homeworld. And into their hand went a betting slip.
Their wager was on Roy. Who was admittedly a long shot. The Commander was by all available accounts a practiced runner. And that monster mustache of his probably generated a not inconsiderable amount of drag. But, of course, they would support their friend in this race!
Not that there wasn’t another reason for joining on this particular bit of wagering…
Every ship and station in the fleet had an Ensign Garlonak. The wheeler-and-dealer. The horse trader. The fellow with contacts on other ships -- not all of them Federation -- and strange ports of call. The fellow for who, for all their quirks and schemes and floating tongo games, knew Starfleet bureaucracy inside and out. The fellow who could get you what you absolutely needed to complete a mission or assignment when no one else could.
Imril wanted Ensign Garlonak to look kindly on them should they ever need something that no one else could get. So, today, Imril was a gambler. There absolutely had to be a Rule Of Acquisition to cover this sort of foreward planning.
The Doctor beamed in wearing his running clothes and slowly approached a crowd that he had surely not expected too seen.
Imril waved to him, and offered a thumbs-up of support. Nearby, a pair of superior officers were engaging in conversation.
Vailani: Response
K’Wara: ::innocent smile:: And good to see you too, Lieutenant Vailani. Here to spectate?
Vailani: Response
K’Wara: Please, sit with me. I think they’re about to start.
Closer to Imril, Garlanak was running his own game.
Garlanak: Doctor! Odds are still shifting!
Roy blinked once. Then he looked back toward the track. Where Commander Munro was writing for him. Relaxed and ready. Roy clasped his hands loosely behind his back and approached her. Over the din of nearby conversations, Imril could just make out what they were saying.
Munro: ::deadpan:: Bancroft.
Roy inclined his head politely.
Bancroft: ::steely eyes:: Commander.
Bancroft: Issuing the challenge months ago and collecting on it without warning is an exceptionally effective strategy. I’m very impressed.
His gaze drifted briefly toward the crowd.
K’Wara: Obviously, Ava has this in the bag. Not even a question. What do you figure?
Imril: ::To K’Wara:: Roy’s done just as much running as the Commander, lately. That’s got to count for something.
Callis had put everyone who’d been there through a non-stop workout, after all.
Vailani/Any: Response
Munro looked to the gathered crew.
Munro: You can forfeit if you like? I'm not sure your dignity would remain intact but it's an option. If you're not ready?
Bancroft: I appreciate the concern, Commander. ::beat:: I assure you my dignity has survived far worse than five kilometers.
Munro: Response
Imril suddenly felt the need to speak up, for sake of his friend’s morale.
Imril: ::Clapping:: You can do it, Roy! I’m betting on you!
Vailani/Any: Response
A voice from the small crowd called out: “Alright – runners ready!”
Roy stepped to the starting line beside Munro. A long red arc of track lay before them both. He rolled his shoulders once and drew in a slow breath. Beside him, Munro looked utterly relaxed.
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
“Go!”
Munro exploded forward.
Munro: Response?
Imril clapped along with the rest of the crowd. Ars pumping as fast but not as hard as the competitors’ legs.
The Commander kept ahead of him as as they rounded the far curve of the track, her lead extending to several comfortable meters. Roy lengthened his stride slightly as they approached the far straightaway.
At approximately the five hundred meter mark, Roy slowed. He lengthened his stride again, attempting to close the growing distance between them. And continued to make adjustments.
Ahead of him Munro remained steady, her stride carrying her smoothly around the next curve.
By the time they approached the one-kilometer mark, Munro held a decisive lead.
Imril: ::Clapping:: Keep on her, Roy! Wooooo!
Munro/Any: Response
Imril: He’s just keeping some in the tank for later.
If not, Imril could always replicate the Satan’s Robot toy.
Bancroft/Any: Response
They kept on cheering for Roy regardless.
Munro/Bancroft/Any: Response
TAG/TBC!
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Lieutenant JG Imril
Engineering Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240110I12