HUMBLE SPACER 26 JAN 3307 (a day like any other)
26 Jan 2021Igli
An unberable howl of an alarm siren peirces the skull. 40 seconds to get dressed. 90 to get to the hangar. Good, I'm not the latest. All available pilots stand at attention, and space fighters behind us are being prepared for combat by technical personnel. Reactors are being accelerated to operating power, ammo loaded into armoured compartments, engines are being heat tested, sheild emitters warmed up. Everybody is busy, the air is dense with electicity and a low humming of machinery reverberates in the bones. We wait for the sergeant.A couple of minutes later he marches into the hangar and addresses the pilots: "A volunteer is needed for a security run in LHS 3384 system. Step forward now." Before anyone can move he points his finger at me and says: "I see that you make a fine volunteer. Good. The task is to track, locate and detain a known pirate Bob Malethron. Here's the signature of his spaceship," - he hands me a holo-pad - "He was last seen in BD-01 3500 system, but he jumped into hyperspace before local security could apprehend him. The wake scan decoded the probable destination - LHS 3384. Details are in the holo-pad. Any questions, soldier?" Before I can even utter a word he shouts: "You grasp on the fly, soldier, that's good! Off you go now! Dismissed!"
I turn and run to my fighter. It's no use to argue with the sergeant. He treats any objection as a personal insult and can easily punish an overly inquisitve pilot with extra duty shifts. Obviously, he has all operations planned beforehand and believes his strategy is always perfect. As I'm buckling up in the cockpit and loading the holo-pad data into the flight computer, the lift is already bringing my fighter onto the flight deck. Docking clamps released. Power to engines, throttle up - and I'm into space.
While the computer is plotting a course to LHS 3384 system I have time to examine the combat mission. Damn. The target won't be alone. A familiar feeling of nausea comes with a hyperhump - I can't get accustomed to it and don't think I ever will. Dropping back into euclidean space now. A white dwarf instantly grows from a tiny dot and takes half the front view. A beautiful picture, every time. Must turn away from it and fast. Now for a naviagation beacon. Scan. The little naughty boy registers every craft coming into the system. There's the target.
Hmm, harrassing a transport convoy. Hello, there, - here comes justice. A warning laser impulse. He doesn't get it, I see. A frontal assult - all guns on the target. Three minions join the fray? I can't see how I can detain the scoundrel. Blow him to pieces and to hell with him. Flight assist off, turn around, gun him down. Throttle up. Damn, my shields are about to fail. Activating reserve power banks. It's getting hot in the cockpit, I'm already drenched in sweat. There are too many of them. I've almost finished the bandit, but my shileds are gone. One more attack run - good bye, Bob, R.I.P. Time to jump away before I join him...
- You should have brought him alive, - says the sergeant at the debriefing.
- There was a wing of four, sir.
- A Yuri Grom's soldier alone is worth forty-four criminals.
- Aye, sir!
- Well, we can't resurect him, right? Good job, soldier. Dismissed.
To shower first, then eat a protein dinner, and then - my bunk is waiting. A soldier sleeps - his service runs.