Old bodies and young souls
06 Apr 2020Onkeldata
0604060209 I fell in bad company - and I like it.When I came home from the Heart Nebula I had to do something exciting. So I fought for whoever was a democracy and had some bounties to pay, and sat in station bars to tell the tales. One evening a greyhaired, spaceweathered veteran sat next to me, drinking something that smelled suspiciously like exhaustcleaner. The order he gave to the barman sounded like "bananawine", and Dave didn't dare to let the grizzled pilot go dry.
I can't seem to recall everything that happened that evening in that bar. I woke up from the impact of a banana on my already hurting head. Vage memories of strange, hairy rituals and slinging of, hu, stuff flared shortly over the abused canvas of my mind.
"Rise and shine, recruit, a Silverback has work to do!"
"Good for them", I replied, "but you got the wrong man. I am gray, yes, but no Silverback".
"Aye you are, recruit, and now in your ship, there ships to shoot, diamonds to mine and stars to explore" he answered, waving a tablet with my signed commitment to Silverbacks.
The next few weeks went by in a haze. It may be that the evil concoctions regularly consumed at Dead Man's Delay, the squads watering hole, are taking a toll on my mind, but I can't remember such good times in this galaxy before. From all drunken decisions ever made, that was the best of my life. It may have been a man's world on earth, but space belongs to the apes! Especially to those who have seen and done their share, and still have not lost their good humor and thrive. There is a reason they are old, and still there...
Cmdr Onkeldata signing out, proud Co-Pilot of the Silverback Squadron