What About My Problems!?

Writers: Avery, Yvonne
Date Posted: 31st March 2015

Characters: Solis, Ricker
Description: Ricker complains about the lack of help that J'ackt's fight has left him with
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 11, day 4 of Turn 7
Notes: Mentioned: J'ackt, Cyradis,

"And then, and _then_--" Ricker leaned forward, jabbing a finger at Solis for emphasis. "And then I get told-- get this. I get told that I only get _one_ weyrling to dig my ditch, and not only that's it's that kid who stabbed a man for who even cares why!"

"You're kidding. One? That doesn't seem fair," Solis agreed as he sipped at his own ale.

"Yeah. And the stabby one at that!" Ricker snorted. "Dangerous _and_ injured. Apparently he broke a hand, and I think some ribs too. How the shells is he going to dig with broken ribs?!"

"Yeah, he's not going to be able to do very much. Are they expecting the dragon to help?"

Ricker shook his head. "I hope that bronze is ready to dig. Otherwise my project will be put behind by months, instead of just a month. And this is with me digging alongside the blighter. I have _knots_ - I shouldn't be doing this sort of drudge work anymore, especially not at a Weyr." He paused, his gaze focusing on Solis. "Maybe you can pull some strings for me and fix this mess?"

The Master took another drink of his ale before he spoke again. There were a few variables to consider here. He shared Ricker's outrage at the lack of help. Nobody wanted this project done more than the technician group. But at the same time, the Weyrleaders must have had reasons for making the call, and they were here on their recognizance.

Thorny mess. How did one weyrling cause this much whershit?

"I can ask the Weyrleadership, but no promises. After all, we don't want to get us all kicked out," he reminded his friend.

"They invited us. They're not going to kick us out." The Journeyman sighed and stared at his mug of ale as if it held answers along with alcohol. This was supposed to be his big chance. Ricker had debated for a while whether or not to go for his Master's knots, or whether or not he was happy with the opportunities to get his hands dirty as a Journeyman. Coming to the Weyr was supposed to position him for both, no matter what he decided. It wasn't supposed to give the Weyr a dumping ground. The Weyr's problems shouldn't impact his work, hurricane not withstanding. "You know, I thought the Weyrwoman was actually pretty friendly. She gave me a bottle of that citronello she makes-- did I tell you that?" He shook his head. "Then she goes and throws me to the felines."

"Did she? Nice of her," Solis said.

Ricker made a face. "Which, the citronello or the felines?"

"The citroncello part. The giving you just one assistant is less so," he said.

"Have you tried it before?" Ricker asked curiously.

"Not hers, though I'd heard she had skills. It's not something I expected to find. Though it's an advantage to have someone familiar with the Halls in charge. I'm used to Weyrleaders knowing nothing about the Crafts."

"Apparently she understands some Crafts better than others," Ricker said dryly. "Otherwise I wouldn't be digging a ditch with a wounded man."

"I'll see if I can get you a few more. If not weyrlings, maybe we can persuade a few retired riders to lend a hand."

"Much appreciated." But Ricker saw the offer for what it was-- an attempt at appeasing an irate Journeyman whose work was meddled with by those far above him. He stared at his pint of ale for a moment, then finished the glass is one large swallow. It was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Last updated on the May 9th 2015

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What About My Problems!?