Armory Duty

An elevator dragged Jol to his first day of actual work in Cloudseeker, to the floor five stories above his sleeping quarters. The lobby he enters trades the decadent barrage of color for pragmatic and militaristic greys. He gives the clerk at the front desk a nod before asking him "Do I need to report in here?"

"Jol right?" The man asks.

"Yeah."

"You're all good. Your wrist computer should have all the permissions uploaded already."

"Got it. Thanks."

Jol moved on to the door to the hallway, before heading through the first door on the right. There, he walked among all the eyes that watched him whenever he walked by. Even after all those months, he still couldn't shake the gazes or the judgment that barely hid behind them. He'd failed his duties once already, and there was a chance he'd fail again, even if he had more combat experience than the entire room combined.

Before going to the armory, Jol went through the door opposite the one he'd entered into the gym, ready for a workout. He might not be on any serious duties, but he wanted to demonstrate he was serious about staying in shape. Most of those still working out steered clear of him, leaving Jol with nothing but his workout and the hum of computers from the floor underneath.

After his gym session, Jol went to the armory. Waiting for him was Jani, arms crossed and scold directed at him.

"You're late, Private." She mumbled.

"Sorry, ma'am. Gym session went a little longer than planned."

"Don't make it a habit. We've got a shipment of new M430 carbines which we need ready for deployment by the end of the day."

"Yes ma'am."

Jani gave Jol a nod before leaving him to the grey armory and the weapons that lay on the table. His decade or so of service with the Raiders meant he knew the M430 carbine like the back of his hand. He sat down and got to work, checking over the M430 carbines as he settled into a day of monotonous work. Part of him wondered if this really was better than a prison sentence. Both involved slaving away in a room, hoping one day he'll be given his chance to prove himself once more.

After an hour or so in the armory, Jol found himself looking at the wiring of another M430 carbine. As he did so, a woman approached him. She wore black combat overalls and had a buzz cut, giving her a militaristic look. She looked to Jol who asked "Can I help you?"

"You're Jol right?" The woman asked.

"Yeah. I don't believe we've met."

"My name's Verilia, I'm with the Swift Response Team. We trained together a few years back."

Jol shook her hand. He knew that the Raiders often trained with the Royal Guardsmen team of elite responders. "Sorry Verilia. It's been a long few months."

"Of course. My condolences by the way."

"Thank you. So what brings you here?"

"We need some M430 ammo."

"Right. Training hard?"

Verilia nodded. "We've been running drills all week."

"I'll go get you some."

Jol headed to the back room, where he found a crate filled with M430 barrels, fully loaded with ammo. He carried it back to Verilia and says "Is this gonna be enough?"

"I'll be back if it isn't. Thanks Jol."

"Not a problem."

Verilia left Jol to lament the fact he wouldn't be joining her or her team to train. Instead, he was stuck in the armory, squandering his potential in hopes that one day someone else would realize what that potential was.