B7 ficlet: Landslide
Re-posted from the ffa "100 words" prompt of Elections. Why, yes, I am just off to go vote...in the pouring rain. Speshul newsy icon instead of default icon!
Trooper Gurvan raised his right hand, and waved it in the air, waiting for the thin strip of black to set. Outside the barracks, the rain hammered down. He wondered if that would mean it would take longer. It rained 280 days a year in this crapsack planet.
From the smell of nail varnish in the sanitary area, he assumed that, while troopers were selected not to be great minds, they thought alike in this respect. Instead of hauling arse over to the polling place and having a fingernail marked to show that they had voted (no corruption here, no ma'am!), they just saved the trip.
Certainly they wouldn't risk a re-assignment to a planet rich in slime and lasers to vote for the fools who stuck their heads above the parapet to run as opposition candidates. Once, on a bet, Trooper Zajurek had written in his own name for Justice Machine Arbitrator. No one had seen him around for a while.
Tomorrow morning, after the polls closed and the absentee ballots were tallied, there would be an assembly to announce the record turn-out and the election results. Although not suspenseful, at least it would be indoors.
Trooper Gurvan raised his right hand, and waved it in the air, waiting for the thin strip of black to set. Outside the barracks, the rain hammered down. He wondered if that would mean it would take longer. It rained 280 days a year in this crapsack planet.
From the smell of nail varnish in the sanitary area, he assumed that, while troopers were selected not to be great minds, they thought alike in this respect. Instead of hauling arse over to the polling place and having a fingernail marked to show that they had voted (no corruption here, no ma'am!), they just saved the trip.
Certainly they wouldn't risk a re-assignment to a planet rich in slime and lasers to vote for the fools who stuck their heads above the parapet to run as opposition candidates. Once, on a bet, Trooper Zajurek had written in his own name for Justice Machine Arbitrator. No one had seen him around for a while.
Tomorrow morning, after the polls closed and the absentee ballots were tallied, there would be an assembly to announce the record turn-out and the election results. Although not suspenseful, at least it would be indoors.