I could feel nothing but the wind lashing against the exposed skin where my half helmet ended and the smile I had permanently glued to my face began! This is the ultimate relaxation and exactly what I need to forget the harsh environments of space, Whilst I love being a combat medic in the thick of things, where every wrong move could cost you everything. Nothing beats getting on my antique Harley Davidson with its four-stroke engine and opening the throttle all the way, As I said space can get to you and an overactive imagination or crazy sense of humour are some of the best tools to survive unless you are blessed with uncanny luck such as one of my Org buddies Om3n the guy can’t seem to lose. Then you got Sarah & Robeenio. Those lot keep morale high among our military guys. Finally Noximilien Caldero is one of the head honcho’s in charge. A decent guy and the Admiral for the science & exploration sector, my sector. Noximilien does good work, gets things done, hasn’t let the power go to his head although he has a habit of….
“Oi Tycan, Tycan…Get up you lazy S.O.B quit your daydreaming”
“Alright alright damn! Can’t a guy get some R&R around here without you jerks thinking there’s a Vanduul swarm behind every asteroid, moon or floating piece of space rock.”
“Yeah yeah whatever just get up, Vice Admiral Absoluteleigh want’s a word with you, something about pistol whipping one of other troops Nooby, Hooby, Scooby I don’t know something along those lines.”
“Sheesh say that a little louder why don’t you I didn’t do anything to anyone, you know T.B.A.C wouldn’t stand for that sort of thing I’d be hulled in front of Org Admiral Banksy quicker than an m50. Plus it really was an accident. Someone had been messing around with my Gemini A03 Sniper. The backend weight felt off, so I was testing it out and didn’t see them coming through the hatch. It was an honest mistake, erm, honest!”
…Oh boy what had I landed myself into now, I really was telling the truth and the last thing I wanted was a HR incident recorded on my permanent file, I’d never be in contention for the currently vacant Lieutenant Commander promotion. Even one strike against me, the Admirals would never allow it! Guess I’d better get up to the VA’s office and take what’s coming to me.
45 minutes later and a roasting worthy of a Christmas dinner on correct weapons handling etiquette, I manage to come out of the meeting more or less unscathed, Punishment was a week on the scrubbing deck aka the cesspool that is our lovely Idris hangar bay
It could’ve been worse so I just swallowed any ill thoughts towards being assigned to the lowest of the low jobs on-board, it’s a hard thought to swallow and hits my throat hard as it slides down.
“Ah what do we have here, another useless so-called combat medic for the scrubbing deck?”
Go ahead laugh it up one day soon you’ll be bleeding out, losing consciousness and I’ll be the most important person in the verse, you won’t be so smug then…Well that’s what I’m thinking what I actually say is
“Yessir”
I chuckle quietly to myself, I know I know but here rank is rank and orders are orders. I may not like them but I’m an organisation man through and through such is life, could’ve been different though, I almost joined the civilian side of medical working out of Orison now that would’ve been a sweet gig!
Truth is it came down to ONE thing. I like shooting things then patching them up way too much to stick to just patching them up. Nothing beats being on the ground in the thick of things where everything can change from one heartbeat to the next, and every decision you make can literally mean life and death, someone lives or someone dies.
Being a combat medic is what I was born to do!
“Tycan, no way you got sh*t duty, I mean scrubbing duty.”
“Snakelane, What are you doing here? Heard you transferred to another sector”
“You heard right! This time next week I’ll be shooting the breeze over at…”
“HEY! Stop your chitter chatter and get back to work. Those decks aren’t going to clean themselves.”
“Yessir” “Yessir”
Not a few moments later the ominous red glow caught my attention a split second before the blaring alarm let everyone know that it was go time! The enemy….are….here. Every man & woman on-board knew what they had to do each one tasked with their own set of instructions that when put together would surely spell the destruction of anyone or anything who dared seek it out
The British are coming, are a force to be reckoned with…We’d earned the reputation and we made sure it was both well respected and well maintained!
All these thoughts swimming around my head weren’t even close to a distraction as I said we were prepared and well trained, I was already sliding on my battle armour, taking position behind cover with my rifle cocked, ready to repel any potential borders. It was a simple instruction! If I didn’t recognise them then they shouldn’t be standing hmmm pretty simple alright and perfectly fine with me. I’m not a cruel or heartless person but in times of war those things got you killed quick, really quick!
It felt like hours but the rational part of my brain tells me it’s more like seconds….I hear the loud clunk and begin to see the tell tell signs of the ship’s hull being cut into like it was made of paper, With a swift thud there’s a new door leading onto the deck where none existed before.
Spilling onto the deck through the depressurisation smoke I’m barely able to see but there’s no mistaking the outlines I can see standing within….The Vanduul are here!
