Astray Among The Stars

Chapter 7: Day Off Pt. II

Holloway stormed into the infirmary, carrying an injured Larson with Polla. Crewman Jack and Heather dragged an unconscious Haltra into the room.

"Sparky! Help him!"

The medical droid rushed over. "Condition?"

"He's critical."

The bot scanned at the ensign, noting the severe internal and external damage.

A stream of stizza blood poured from a gash in Larson's forehead, the least of his injuries. His uniform was torn, burned by residual weapons, his face a collage of indigo and violet bruises, sprinkled with crimson cuts.

Polla watched from a far, struck by horror and dread, tears flowing down her cheeks. It was her fault, all her fault.

One hour earlier...

Holloway smiled, sitting next to Polla at the oceanside docks. She gazed at the deep ruby skies, contrasted by the glowing coral clouds. The ocean reflected the dim binary stars, the scarlet light glittering against the waves.

Polla sighed, absorbing the beauty as she rested against him. "I wish we could stay forever."

Holloway snapped a picture. "Yeah, me too. The locals seem quite all right, except for those Dedalians. They seem kind of sketchy."

Haltra rolled her eyes. "Would you please stop taking pictures and enjoy yourself for once?"

Holloway snapped another. "I am enjoying myself. What's with the attitude? Do you want to head back?"

"No."

"Then stop complaining. You didn't have to tag along with us. You could've gone to the bar with—"

"Hey guys," Larson yelled from afar, "they got a bar over there with crazy drinks, man!"

He stumbled over to the group, leaving a dotted trail of foaming lime liquid from the coastal shops behind them.

"Larson, you're. . . drunk?"

"Hell yeah. I'm fucking wasted, man!"

Holloway grimaced. "Travis, go back to the shuttle—"

Larson grabbed his uniform collar. "Come with me. You got to try the Alrisian Martinis or whatever this is called!"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Jesus, Larson! In two hours? How much did you drink in two fucking hours?"

He smiled sheepishly, hiccupping. "I lost count."

A sulfur reptilian ran towards them, his appearance like that of a fat bipedal lizard, his scarlet eyes sizzling. "Hey!"

Larson turned around, his smile dying. "Aw, shit! Run!"

The Dedalian bartender chased after the drunkard. "Get back here! You never paid!"

Larson ran back to the small pier shops, ducking into an alley way. Stumbling, he glanced back at his persuer. The drunkard tripped in a failed attempt at jumping over a crate. The reptilian bartender leapt on top of him.

The drunkard rolled, retaliating with an uppercut. "Suck my ass!"

The reptile seized his throat, threatening Larson with inaudible cuss words. He pummeled the drunkard as his human comrades raced towards the action.

Larson vomited, soaking the bartender. "Refund, bitch!"

The bartender cringed and slashed his claws across Larson's face, plowing three deep cuts in his cheek.