"FWLS3" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

Dead silence filled the Security lounge, as the twenty or so
red-clad youth gazed at the companel in mutual horror.

"Break out the hat," someone in the back muttered.

We had a procedure for this. They didn't care WHO went on
the teams, as long as someone went. All we had to do was fill
the quota, which we did by the Hat Method(TM).

This consisted mostly of A) getting a hat, and B) putting a
pre-made deck of cards in it with the name of one Ensign on each.
C), shuffle 'em around, D) draw out as many as needed. E) Read
out the names - send the doomed on their collective ways.

"How many did they want?" the guy with the hat asked,
jumbling the cards around.

"Four," piped a voice to the left of me.

"Okay. First lottery winner - Ensign Disposable."

There was a brief intake of air to the left of me. Poor
guy.

"Next, Ensign Throwaway."

Throwaway apparently had less guts than Disposable, breaking
out in tears at the mention of his name.

"Ensign Fodder."

Fodder gave a depressed sigh, then hiked up his phaser belt
a little, trying to look manly under the circumstances.

"Ensign Expendable."

Eek. I knew that name well -- it was mine, after all.

*

The impending doom was put aside as the four of us were
ushered into the green/orange transporter room. Yow. I had
never been this close to the senior officers before. There was
Jones, our manly but gnarled ship's doctor. Mr. Tock, science
officer, one of the few aliens we had on the ship; he was a Ytt,
which meant he had pointy ears. Well, that and green fur and a
rabbitlike form.

And the biggest of the big, the one, the almost saintlike