Imposition Read Online Free PDF

they'd had the same amount of field experience and were both Lieutenants.
    Therse managed to get around Gen again by setting the ball up to land just where he wanted it. Gen was pelting towards him at full speed, eyes fixed on the little black prize. Therse hit the ball, and sent it towards empty space on the skin of the dome.
    "Where the hell are you aiming?” Gen laughed, breathless.
    But Therse didn't look back at him. He just stood there calmly, waiting.
    A dense-tone purple twenty-point spot appeared just where the little ball connected with the dome.
    Therse turned to his crew-mate with what he thought might be a sufficiently arrogant expression. Gen looked back at him with a stifled mixture of masked awe, jealousy, and irritation. “Any idiot can whack a ball at some spots. What sets me apart from you is my ability to read a situation.” Therse told him.
    Gen puffed a strand of hair out of his eyes under the visor, and pretended to ignore him.
    I guess we complement each-other, in a way . Two generals of a very different ilk.
    That had been impressive, yes, but they were both very close to the target of fifty points total, and for all his clever tricks, Therse was still losing. The next sink would probably determine the game.
    The ball dropped a little distance away from both of them—the ship at this point not even bothering to re-set properly with the field-boxes—but it looked arguably closer to Therse.
    "What you going to do now?” he yelled back at Gen, running for the ball to claim his self-assured victory.
    Gen ran right at him at break-neck speed, grabbing Therse around the waist with one arm. The sudden force and distraction made him falter, shoving down on Gen's arm to get himself released—but it was too late. He was already heading straight for the ball in a way that would see him to a nice juicy points deduction. His only option was to go for a full stumble and miss the ball altogether, hoping Gen would fudge the shot and allow him a second chance.
    He rolled as he thudded to the floor, facing upwards just in time to see Gen's last points land.
    "Third mark: Genham Drisjic. Match: Genham Drisjic."
    "Oh, yes,” Gen said, grinning and stepping almost ceremonially over Therse's fallen body.
    Therse had half a mind to grab Gen's ankle and bring the cheating bastard down, but he kept the urge to himself and stood as gracefully as possible. “You are such an asshole. Didn't you see that?” he asked the ship.
    "There is nothing in the rules prohibiting physical contact,” it replied, with all the luster of someone vaguely involved with their dealings whilst at the same time studying the back of a ration packet.
    "There's that, and then there's rough-housing."
    "You never change, do you?” Gen sneered. “Always wanting an honorable outcome."
    Therse wanted to give him a good hard shove. He settled for words though, as always. “And what about you? Always wanting to find the easiest, most reliable route to a quick, certain victory, no matter the consequences."
    "That's war,” Gen snorted. “History only remembers the victors."
    "I'd like to think history is a little more discerning than that."
    "You would, wouldn't you? Still, you played well.” Gen flipped the play over in his hand. “Want another?"
    "Not fucking likely, if you're going to be a shit about it. I'm taking this off now,” Therse replied, pulling the induction collar and visor off. The game board dissolved, leaving them back in the dull gray box.
    "Spoil sport,” Gen told him, pulling off his visor too. “The universe isn't always fair, you know."
    Therse leaned in. “That doesn't mean you have to help unfairness into all the corners of the universe where its absence would otherwise be a merit, just so everything fits your jaded world view."
    Gen moved in a little more, smiling; so close Therse could almost feel his breath. He refused to yield.
    "You get so wordy when you're mad."
    "Fuck off,” Therse told him with a flat shove