Snippet #2445664

Archer's voice resonated over the speakers on the ship. Tyraus could tell that he was hungover. When wasn't he hung over? The execrul had long since stopped trying to change the man deemed to be in charge of the ship. Trying to get that man to change would have been no different than trying to stop a gnirloc from hunting a klexel. It just wasn't going to happen.

"Well... It's that time of the day once again, kiddies." he began, "Just got off the phone with one of our top clients... Looks like that big job I mentioned awhile back is happening. Like, right now. That means it's time to WAKE UP, you lazy sacks of shit! Ow... It's time to go to work! Hnng... Let's get Rev started up and heading for planet Alta Jarvis, located in the...Centaur Region. Don't keep papa waiting! Guh..."

He had wondered...

The captain had been boasting of an upcoming job a lot lately. Tyraus took it for nothing more than fluff. He hadn't really counted on the job to manifest itself and had been looking for other jobs. Things had been so slow lately that he'd been entertaining the possibility of looking for other work. Of course, he had a certain loyalty to Archer and the rest of the crew, but no work means no money and no money means you might not get to eat. There had to be a point where he said enough was enough.

But, thankfully, things seemed to be looking up.

Tyraus had his quarters nearest to the armory, by the exit of the ship, as he'd taken to unofficially labeling himself the chief weapons officer while aboard the ship, just as Archer had taken to unofficially labeling himself as the captain of the ship. By this point, most of the crew was willing to trust him with their weapons, especially if they were having problems. The only notable exception was Jag. He didn't even bother trying with the noxchi crew member. That would have been as futile as trying to change Archer's self-detrimental habits.

The vaegoth execrul that shacked up by the armory rarely ventured outside of it or his room these days, except for twice a day when he went to mess to have a meal. And, even then, he rarely saw any of the other crew members. A few days ago, he came upon the tatari, Salis, in the mess, but she didn't stay long after his arrival, and no words - other than a greeting and a farewell - were exchanged. He would have to bring up her reluctance to carry or use weapons at some point. If they were going to be facing gunfire, then they may not be able to afford to have her aboard the ship. Emergencies were inevitable, and if they needed the medic in the field as soon as possible, well, it wouldn't end well.

Tyraus relished the quiet whenever he could get it. In his younger days, he would hunger for battle, to the point where he would have gone stir-crazy after a wait like this. But now, there was a certain serenity that he took in his work, making sure his own weapons and the ones in the armory were maintained.

He had spent nearly fifteen years fighting pirates in the outer rim day in and day out. A break every once in a while was rare, and now he was glad for it.

But, at the same time, if he had remained in the outer rim, he would probably still be fighting them and helping the colonies out there. Now, he was just sitting around, trying to find some way to be busy. For the first time in years, those pirates would probably now have a chance to raid those colonies. Some sacrifices had to be made, and Tyraus had to make one in order to close a certain chapter of his life that had been open since the incident that had caused his discharge.

Normally, Tyraus wasn't one to hold grudges, but he didn't like to call this a grudge. He always told himself that this was justice. It was about more than just him. It was about Averii, and Frael, and Ket, and the rest of Omega Squad. They all deserved closure on the issue.

That was another task for another time. Now, he had to get to work. After the announcement had been made, Tyraus had gone to his room, where he had picked up a holopad and looked up the planet Alta Jarvis. The planet was a smaller hub world. Not as busy as some other worlds, but it had a fairly large population of mixed races. At least they wouldn't be out of place there.

A hub world like that meant that they could expect almost anything. Their contact could be anybody. He might have been of the reputable sort. He might not have been. Either way, he would have liked to know what they were getting themselves into.

So, that meant that the execrul was going to have to venture up the ship to the captain's quarters and ask him about it. And that's exactly what he did.

Archer's door was open when he arrived, and he let himself into the captain's quarters without so much as a word of warning from himself or a word of permission from the captain.

"Archer," he began, not bothering to sit down, as the white-haired human turned to look, "About this job. You haven't been exactly forthcoming. You know how I dislike surprises. Don't you humans have a saying about traps?" Knowing them, they probably had ten or twenty, "I'd much rather avoid walking into one. It would be good to have more than just yourself knowing what we're getting ourselves into. What kind of job is this? Who is our contact?"

Tyraus wasn't exactly hopeful that the captain would be willing to disclose the information that he had. He liked to do that from time to time, which directly contradicted Tyraus' own personal philosophy of being as prepared as possible before going into a job.

But, here he stood expectantly. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered.