This was not what Carter had had in mind when command had ordered him to take some shore leave. He had expected to wind up in some... quiet, touristy destination, where he could just... breathe, and try to blend into the local populace. But apparently the galaxy had other plans in store for him, and his Condor had broken down midflight, and he’d wound up crashing into the wilderness of the human colony of Cascade.
Not the planet he’d intended to wind up on, although at least he could be thankful for the fact that it was in the same star system as his original destination. Perhaps he could hitch a ride to where he was supposed to go?
That was his long term goal, at any rate.
So far, all he’d managed to do was gather his belongings, and hike all the way out of the wilderness, into a backwater township in the middle of... well, nowhere. He was footsore and tired, and completely lost. All he wore was a plain grey t-shirt, a pair of khaki cargo pants, and combat boots; he was not equipped for the climate of this planet, and he’d found himself cold, despite Spartan physiology rendering his body temperature running higher than a normal human’s.
Thus it was that he’d wandered into the first open establishment he’d come across: the local watering hole. It was relatively heated, and it was, thankfully, a quiet night — as far as he’d gauged, at any rate — and so he’d settled himself at the bar with a glass of whiskey to nurse. While alcohol had no adverse affect — thanks, Spartan physiology — the burn in the back of his throat and heat in his belly was comforting and familiar.
The Commander planned on staying for as long as the joint would allow, drinking not so much to as give the owner or manager cause to think that he would be drunk — not that he could get drunk, but who would believe him after downing enough alcohol to knock a regular man out? and he didn’t want to accidentally run these poor people out of their stock — and learning as much about the township as he could. Overhearing conversations was relatively easy, and if he had to wind up conversing with one of the locals... Well, he’d figure that hurdle out whenever he got there.
But for the most part, and for the time being, he’d found relative peace in what he was doing. Uninterrupted, undisturbed... Just the way he liked it.
@hell-and-starlight || semi-discussed starter !
He sighed into the cool night air, glancing skywards for a moment at the stars high above, before his gaze tracked towards his new companion.
“I should, uh, at least offer my thanks vocally; it’s the polite thing to do.” he began, and then cleared his throat, feeling very much out of place. “And I mean, y’know, if there’s any kind of help you need, I’d be happy to pitch in, as payment. Or I could offer credits. It’s… it’s up to you, really. But, uh, thanks for doing this. Most locals wouldn’t go out of their way to help a stranger, and especially not one as obviously military as I am.”
“Hey, I’m a Helljumper, remember? If we don’t look out for each other, who will?” She smiled slightly, looking over her shoulder as she approached a hulking beast of a pickup truck. “I’m not gonna ask for money. But if you want to help with the horses, I won’t say no.”
Grace paused beside the bed of the truck, tucking her hands into her pockets as she looked skyward for a moment.
She knew that what she was doing was risky, but wasn’t everything? Sure, maybe this guy wasn’t as trustworthy as he seemed, but she doubted that very much. He didn’t seem to have a guileful bone in his body. And what was the worst he could do, anyway? There weren’t a whole lot of scenarios that scared her.
Not anymore.
With a heavy sigh and a mental prayer, she patted the truck’s flank and continued towards the cab, pulling open the driver’s side door..
“Go ahead and stow your stuff in the bed, and make yourself comfortable in the back seat. It’s a bit of a drive back to the ranch, so feel free to stretch yourself out if you need to.”
