Logbook entry

An unexpected offer

15 Feb 2022Alysianne
Agh, this is stupid. Braindead. Out-of-this-world idiotic. What was I thinking ? Fighter pilot, El, really ? And what do you have to show for it, a couple search and rescue missions, a little soapy text about saving lives, and a jaw-dropping Pilot’s Federation rank of… Harmless. Got any more good ideas where that came from ?

Gah. I get to my feet and start pacing around in the blandly furnished room. The large hulk of a man reclining on a battered couch on the other side of the room glances over at me, before looking back at his nails and continuing to calmly pick at them with a small plastic file. A snarky smile plays around on his lips. None of the other bored applicants move from their minding their own business. Although I can feel the disdained amusement emanating from them. They all know exactly what rank I am, and how much more of a chance they have than me of attracting the eye of a passing Commander.

An uncharacteristic spike of rage flares in me. Damn it what was I thinking, accepting that idiot Burr’s offer, and then getting caught up in it all, and now… Ugh. What a mess. I glance over at the closed door to the corridor outside, through which the occasional Count’s lackey walks in to announce someone’s recruitment. It hasn’t budged for the past few hours now.
I guess I just have to wait here then. Like I did yesterday, and the day before that, and… Pah. I badly need the cash, and to get away from this bloody planet, so I ain’t got much of a choice.

Letting out a long breath, I sit back down on the cheap plastic chair I’ve been using for the past few days. Bloody hell. I’m screwed, aren’t I. What in the world was I thinking… Fighter pilot, me ? Who’d want me as their fighter pilot ? Hah. Nobody in their right mind, that’s who.
So now I’ve just got to wait it out here until Burr finds me, and then I’m pretty much done for, or as good as done for, he isn’t really known for his kindness, is he…

“Uhhhf… Eleni Sherman ?” a voice calls from the entrance. I glance over wildly to the figure standing in the doorway. No way. He couldn’t have found me already ? “Ya got someone for ye in hangar 9,” the voice continues flatly.
No way, no way… Wait, what?
“Someone… For me?” I ask, totally lost.
“Well yeah, that’s what you’re bloody ‘ere for innit? Commanda’ pickin’ ya up n’ all that? Now get a move on, I don’t got all day,” the figure responds. As he shifts impatiently, I suddenly recognize the Count’s livery on him.
Oh stars.
Silence falls in the Lounge. Everyone is looking at me.
Me? A Commander for me? I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. After a second I clear my throat and try again. “Uh… Sure I’ll, uh, I’m coming right away,” I answer shakily.
I glance over the people amassed in the dingy room. Different levels of disbelief are painted over all their faces. The large man at the back has stopped filing his nails.
In a burst of recklessness I smile at them, and give them a weak wave of the hand.


Walking down Van Scyoc’s long corridors behind the official feels totally surreal… everything passes in a blur. The guy is rambling on about how he never thought someone would be crazy enough to employ me, and how I was a bit of a running gag at his office, and how that Commander must be completely out of her mind, but you know, Feds are weird like that…
A Fed? That’s… odd. What’s a Fed doing here..? I mean sure we’re pretty close to the Federation but like, this place is boring, a backwater Imperial system with a petty Count who likes to play tyrant, and a total population barely large enough to fill a small city…


The official drops me off at the shuttle-lift. A few minutes of zooming around the settlement’s bowels later, I step out of the small cabin to hangar 9. And am greeted with the hulking figure of an off-white Federal Gunship towering over me.
Dear stars above, up close it’s so much bigger than I thought. I never really got so close to ships like these before, ever - I mean sure I already saw patrol Anacondas and stuff off in the distance over Van Scyoc, but doing odd jobs on a planetary colony doesn’t really give you the chance to visit actual warships, does it.
I look up and down the docked vessel, trying to take it all in. The writing on its flank reads “FLC Warhammer”, painted over a black Federal Stars-and-Worlds. It looks brand new.
What… I still haven’t processed that someone might have actually recruited me. I just can’t wrap my head around it.
Alright, uh… Well, I guess I should look around for that half-crazed Commander who supposedly employed me, now, right? Let’s see… there’s a reinforced metal ladder reaching down from the back of the ship to the ground. So then… in I go ?


The Gunship’s main corridor is… spartan. And a pretty tight fit for my lanky build. Bare metal floor, walls, and low ceiling, with a host of hatches and doorways leading off to various modules I can’t figure out the use for. The whole place is also vibrating slightly, a guttural hum that runs up my legs and fills my ears, and becomes deafening when I pass in front of what I assume to be the ship’s power plant.
After a minute or so of cautious advance, the corridor brings me to an open blast door on the other side of the vessel from where I came in. I glance in. An empty co-pilot’s seat is set to the left of the entrance, on some sort of small mezzanine overlooking the rest of the ship’s cockpit. A narrow staircase to the right leads down to the lower level, where the pilot’s seat is. And… Someone is singing?
I walk over the threshold to get a better look down. The seat downstairs is surrounded by six or seven individual holo-screens, panned out to let the pilot look over them all at a glance, and a hand regularly reaches out to move one out of the way, bring another closer, type a few figures into it, swipe something on it to the side… I can vaguely distinguish a couple horribly complicated spreadsheets, graphs showing different trends of sorts, what seems to be the text channel of some chatting app, a map of the system, of the Bubble… What on Earth ?
And… yeah, some soft music is playing, with a female voice humming along to it. I don’t recognize the song, although it vaguely sounds like one of those old pre-FSD explorer’s tune.
I watch for a few moments the ballet of moving screens being pushed left and right, feeling like a complete stranger who just barged into someone’s private life.

I clear my throat softly. “Ahem, uh… Ma’am? You asked for me..?”
The pilot doesn’t seem to hear, so after a second hesitation I speak up again. “Hello?”
“Gah ! What in the -” the Commander jumps slightly and cranes her head around the side of the seat to look back. She has ruddy brown-reddish hair, an absolute riot of freckles and a look of confusion is pasted on her face as she squints at me. “Who the fuck are you ??”

Oh. Oh, I see. I knew it, it was too good to be true. That Count official played me well, hah, he’s gotta be laughing his head off at that office with his “mates” by now - how could I have ever imagined that someone really wanted me as their fighter pilot, dammit? How could I have fallen for that?
“You, uh… recruited me, uhm, as your fighter pilot, right?” I try desperately. Awh, fuck it. “Look, I’m sorry, I was misled I -”
“Ohhhhh wait no I did get someone for the fighter, didn’t I ! Wait, lemme check, wait…” The Commander turns back and frantically swipes at one of her screens a few times. “Here ! There we go… Ellen… Eleni Sherman, is it?” she asks, glancing back at me with a grin.
What. That’s… But why !?
I nod, dazed. “That’s, uh… Yeah, that’s me.”
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