Fiction Archive - Good Morning by Les-R
Posted on 05-09-2005 09:47
Joined: August 30 2005
"...I trust you're well rested Ensign."
No, thank you very much, I am not well-rested. I am sore all over and my head feels like it's being split-open with rusty chisels driven through my eyes, thank you.
They say that cryo-sleep is 100% safe, that it does no harm to the body whatsoever, don't believe them! This is hardly the way a war-vet should be treated. Yes, I am one and I have the combat-pay to prove it. I was on the carrier "Precocious" when she was transferred to the "Pride of Higarra"'s fleet for the the final campaign against the Vaygr's Grand Crusade and I served aboard her through the entire shooting-match, through the Karos Gravyard, through the Gate of Balcor and through the final breaking of the seige of Higarra. I've been told it was all quite immpressive.
I never actually Saw the old Progenitor foundry, or the ancient Dreadnaught, or Balcora Gate, or Sajuuk firing it's weapons in anger... Breaker take-it but I never even saw the Pride of Higarra before she was de-commissioned in-space. I'm back-up crew, which explains the cryo-sleep. Carriers don't have the facilities to house all the pilots and crewmembers for all the strike and service-craft and frigates they may or may not manufacture while out in the field, so we all get put on ice. It's a scary feeling when they call your name for assignment as 'backup'. Every time they put you under you wonder if you'll ever wake-up, if this will be the time your ship will head out and suffer a mischief with you still dozing deep in her hold.
They're supposed to thaw us out on regular intervals so we can stretch our legs and such, but during time of war those intervals tend to fall by the wayside and we get treated like parts that need changing-out when the rest of the ship comes in for refit. Makaan may be space-dust but the rest of the Vaygr didn't obligingly follow him into oblivion, so technicaly that 'time of war' still exists.
The sadist who claims to be a doctor is blathering about something, I suppose I should pay attention...
"...and we'll need to do some bloodwork to, purely routine. Command will need that done soonest so they can expidite your recovery and re-training."
Maker damn-it, what about my needs? I haven't had a hot meal or a hot shower since the last time this tub pulled into dry-dock, not to mention I haven't been laid in...
"Here, You'll be getting your certification on the new Kopesh class corvettes. I suggest you study this." And then he shoves a data-sheet in my hand and returns to watching the monitors in his 'don't bug me' pose.
Right, so what have we here? Maker! Did they put enough guns on this thing? Hmm, four-man crew. Pilot (That's me by the way, I fly the boat.), Co-pilot/Commander (That's the Jackhole who bosses the rest of us around.), Gunery Chief (That's the guy in charge of all the shooty-shooty stuff, huh.. only one for so many guns?), EWO... hmm, that's new. Looks like the new gunnery interface is all point-and-click, bet it flies like a pig though.
"When will I be getting space under my butt?"
The Doctor/Sadist looks annoyed that I have interupted his comuning with his medical gadgets and gizmos, he annoys me in return by pretending to not know the lingo before answering, "Oh, I'm afriad time and budget constraints won't allow for that. You'll be transferred temporarily to the shipyard 'Aramis' to use their simulators."
Great, absolutely fantastic. I know all those guns and the powerpacks for 'em will play merry hell with the boat's handling but it looks like the first chance I'll get to learn it's quirks will be while under fire, wonderfull. The sims are nice, but they Never get the inertial feedback right. Dosn't matter what they're pretending to be, a classic gunboat or a pulsar-rig or even a 'bricklayer', they all 'feel' like the same toothless training-ship you cut your teeth on at Academy when you're in the sim.
Ahh well, nothing for it. I suppose I'll just have to study what I can, submit my request for permanent re-assigment for the 100th time, contemplate for the 1,000th time why I'm not submitting my resignation instead, and in the meantime try to make the best of it....
...what else can a girl do?
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