Erik slowly moved around the shuttle’s flight compartment in his sweat drenched flight suit, his helmet sitting on the co-pilot’s seat facing him as if a stalwart companion. There had been little time to change after moving everything and the shower facilities were fairly limited on shuttles arms station. It didn’t matter, the smell from his suit this morning smelt like victory. Well sweaty victory.
For a second, Erik was worried he had forgotten it on the station, but then his face lit up as his victory stash was located. He moved his helmet off the co-pilot’s seat and onto the floor as the small bag was yanked out from under the seat and placed in the helmet’s place with a distinct tink. Slowly Erik removed the contents: A fine bottle of Caprican wine, a single cigar in a sealed case, and a wrapped wine glass.
Erik uncorked the bottle; he had been saving this particular bottle for just such an occasion, a treat to be enjoyed after a job well done and there had been so few such occasions lately. This load was going to make him rich enough that he could settle down for a minute and buy a few replacement bottles without much effort. Slowly, the dark and richly red liquid began to fill the glass making Erik’s mouth water in anticipation.
Erik took a deep breath over the glass, letting the woodsy aroma fill his nostrils before setting the glass down on the control panel. His mouth continued to water, but he didn’t want to drink the wine just yet, it would be much better after it had been given the chance to breath.
As he waited for his wine Erik began to slowly unroll the cigar’s container, his eyes glancing across the control panel. He needed to check his course and make sure everything was going smoothly. His casual glance over the controls showed no change and Dradis appeared free of contacts. The Shuttle's ballistic course had been laid in hours ago, now Erik was left with the task of entertaining himself and randomly checking dradis to make sure nothing had moved into his path.
As he completed the quick check to confirm there was nothing in the shuttle’s path, Erik finished unwrapping the Caprican Imperial and pulled out a combat knife to sliced the end off. Combat Knives weren’t particularly valuable cargo, but he picked one up as a memento of his major score.
Erik felt his pockets, attempting to locate his lighter with no avail, his expression turning somewhat sour. “Great, you can never find your lighter when you need it. What else could go wrong?”
Erik rose from the pilot’s seat and begun the annoying search for the lighter he had obviously misplaced and preventing the celebration from getting under way.