This drop really left us in the lurch. After nearly three weeks of no support, and only three burst-comm transmissions, Betty and I have only gotten the bare minimum of information. The 255 BR (Assault) has gotten nothing but shafted by a command structure that wants to watch us succeed while safe in their little domiciles a few parsecs away. Were it not for the capital ships retrofitting with advanced HPG capability, we wouldn't even know that much. The Sullivans is not a battleship, but she is a ship of the line, and in the newly reconstructed capital navy of the human race, she is something to behold. I'll never bitch about the Navy again, knowing that those poor bastards spend so much time in those cramped quarters. It wouldn't be so bad if they could have a little self determination, but knowing that their whole existence might be snuffed out by an errant or well placed shot from planetary orbital guns, or the capital weapons of another ship of the line.......I'll take my Betty any day.
We still have approximately seven minutes until contact. That is such a short lifetime to wait on a battlefield. So many hours spent listlessly patrolling sectors and bases to be punctuated by such relentless and devastating assault from legions of petty insurrectionists. Betty and I would give real money for a chance at a stand up fight.....
Monday, June 18, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
PLS-7Z Polaris
Dust lifts in small clouds from the soles of my boots. Boots.....my these have travelled afar. I chuckle to myself as I contemplate how they would see the world and what they would say if they could speak. Perhaps a thanks for avoiding feces when possible, and maybe an admonition to attempt the same with other piles of the fecund? Who knows. Maybe they are just content with being there, supporting me.
Where are we travelling today? Another far away place in the voids of terror and grief? A seldom found spot in the expanses of joy and pride? We'll see when we get there. As for now, the grit and sweat I swipe from my brow seems to be the focus of my world. There is a small twinge of regret as I realize that every swipe removes a countless number of my own skin cells. Microscopic peices of me scattered across the universe. Heh. More than a few drops of blood too....mucous for the maintenance of this fragile shell....solitary tears on occasion. I can ill afford more than one at a time, and those rarer than the full eclipse of Sol.
A warming crescendo builds in the distance. They are on the move. I turn and regard the silent menace of my partner. She's the most dependable part of my world, enfolding me with her gentle yet firm caress when I gird for battle. We have been through much together. A multitude of worlds and a plethora of enemies. She bears the scars across her stressed ferro-fiberous plating, at least a dozen repaintings in the past year to try and re-affix a visual complement to her electronic warfare and passive stealth camouflage systems cannot mask the patches and refits. Other wounds she has borne only reveal themselves by the careful eye of an expert technician...those deep inside her core, the replaced heat shields and cryogenic systems from an engine critical strike more than 3 years ago on Luthien. Her injuries have gone deep time after time. Mine lie deeper still, I fear........ My remorse, my anger, my vengeance, to be hidden in her cockpit behind my interface helmet, to be melded with her fury and power on the field of battle. Soon it will be time again to breach the walls. Soon.
Where are we travelling today? Another far away place in the voids of terror and grief? A seldom found spot in the expanses of joy and pride? We'll see when we get there. As for now, the grit and sweat I swipe from my brow seems to be the focus of my world. There is a small twinge of regret as I realize that every swipe removes a countless number of my own skin cells. Microscopic peices of me scattered across the universe. Heh. More than a few drops of blood too....mucous for the maintenance of this fragile shell....solitary tears on occasion. I can ill afford more than one at a time, and those rarer than the full eclipse of Sol.
A warming crescendo builds in the distance. They are on the move. I turn and regard the silent menace of my partner. She's the most dependable part of my world, enfolding me with her gentle yet firm caress when I gird for battle. We have been through much together. A multitude of worlds and a plethora of enemies. She bears the scars across her stressed ferro-fiberous plating, at least a dozen repaintings in the past year to try and re-affix a visual complement to her electronic warfare and passive stealth camouflage systems cannot mask the patches and refits. Other wounds she has borne only reveal themselves by the careful eye of an expert technician...those deep inside her core, the replaced heat shields and cryogenic systems from an engine critical strike more than 3 years ago on Luthien. Her injuries have gone deep time after time. Mine lie deeper still, I fear........ My remorse, my anger, my vengeance, to be hidden in her cockpit behind my interface helmet, to be melded with her fury and power on the field of battle. Soon it will be time again to breach the walls. Soon.
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