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War Stories : Serco 240th Pursuit Squadron
[Personal Log : Lt Commander Theska "Henry Jekyll" Brosarus, 240th Pursuit, Geira Watch]
A quick promotion....
That was the fastest promotion I ever had. Serco Reserve Officer one day, Commanding Officer of a Serco Pursuit Squadron the next, and I have not even met my squadron yet.
And the briefing docket I am holding in my hands right now is all about my responsibilities as "Executive Officer, 240th Pursuit", not CO. But, well, I guess such is war that the actual commander, LT Commander Hamadus Baratus, bit the dust before I even had the chance to see my new squadmates.
[Personal Log : Lt Commander Theska "Henry Jekyll" Brosarus, 240th Pursuit, Geira Watch]
So this was my command, standing before me in Hanger 17, with their rather forlorn looking SVGs behind them. Their not-so-state of the art implants told me that they are just like me, reserve pilots, not front line hot fighter jocks. That guy with a cybernetic pegleg was particularly ragged looking, but his toothy grin was the best welcome I got. The rest of them, they just look glum.
"Report," said I, in the best commanding voice I got. It turned out to be rather wimpy, but I do what I can.
"Fo, Lieutenant," was the almost immediate reply. It was from the small guy, almost hidden behind the peg-leg pilot. His implants were almost new, but the nasty looking cut upon his right eye told me he was not new to this War business. He was constantly moving, twitching and fidgeting and looked extremely nervous. I sure hope he knows how to fly.
"Chimaera," said the sharp looking Serco next to the peg-leg pilot. "Lt Commander...Like *you*." He glared at me, unmoving, hands crossed. So, the fight for alpha-male status began right here. I was about to respond with a nasty comment when the peg-leg pilot bellowed so loudly that I could feel the wind pass my ears.
"Ho Ho Ho!" came the coarse jolly voice. "Ar! Matey! I be JackRum, yer friend'y neighbourhood poi-rate! Anndd...". He paused for effect. "ol'e El. Tee., ma Lady Re-serve!"
The Serco Military must be scrapping the bottom of her barrel. But, well, I guess beggars can'tbe choosers.
There was one more pilot. He had not spoken nor even moved since I came in. But his eyes have been following me with deep intent. He was wearing a pilot's flight suit, but it looked like an older issue. Indeed, my docket didn't indicate that I have another pilot under my command, so perhaps he was just incidentally around the Hanger minding his own business.
I was wrong.
"Lt Commander Brosarus," said he in a deep tone, with an accent that I could hardly make out. "May I fly with you? A blackbird sent me."
A quick promotion....
That was the fastest promotion I ever had. Serco Reserve Officer one day, Commanding Officer of a Serco Pursuit Squadron the next, and I have not even met my squadron yet.
And the briefing docket I am holding in my hands right now is all about my responsibilities as "Executive Officer, 240th Pursuit", not CO. But, well, I guess such is war that the actual commander, LT Commander Hamadus Baratus, bit the dust before I even had the chance to see my new squadmates.
[Personal Log : Lt Commander Theska "Henry Jekyll" Brosarus, 240th Pursuit, Geira Watch]
So this was my command, standing before me in Hanger 17, with their rather forlorn looking SVGs behind them. Their not-so-state of the art implants told me that they are just like me, reserve pilots, not front line hot fighter jocks. That guy with a cybernetic pegleg was particularly ragged looking, but his toothy grin was the best welcome I got. The rest of them, they just look glum.
"Report," said I, in the best commanding voice I got. It turned out to be rather wimpy, but I do what I can.
"Fo, Lieutenant," was the almost immediate reply. It was from the small guy, almost hidden behind the peg-leg pilot. His implants were almost new, but the nasty looking cut upon his right eye told me he was not new to this War business. He was constantly moving, twitching and fidgeting and looked extremely nervous. I sure hope he knows how to fly.
"Chimaera," said the sharp looking Serco next to the peg-leg pilot. "Lt Commander...Like *you*." He glared at me, unmoving, hands crossed. So, the fight for alpha-male status began right here. I was about to respond with a nasty comment when the peg-leg pilot bellowed so loudly that I could feel the wind pass my ears.
"Ho Ho Ho!" came the coarse jolly voice. "Ar! Matey! I be JackRum, yer friend'y neighbourhood poi-rate! Anndd...". He paused for effect. "ol'e El. Tee., ma Lady Re-serve!"
The Serco Military must be scrapping the bottom of her barrel. But, well, I guess beggars can'tbe choosers.
There was one more pilot. He had not spoken nor even moved since I came in. But his eyes have been following me with deep intent. He was wearing a pilot's flight suit, but it looked like an older issue. Indeed, my docket didn't indicate that I have another pilot under my command, so perhaps he was just incidentally around the Hanger minding his own business.
I was wrong.
"Lt Commander Brosarus," said he in a deep tone, with an accent that I could hardly make out. "May I fly with you? A blackbird sent me."
Good story, more please
"The Serco Military must be scrapping the bottom of her barrel. But, well, I guess beggars can'tbe choosers."
Serco senior citizens & drunken pirate task force?
Sounds cool. Great story.:P
Serco senior citizens & drunken pirate task force?
Sounds cool. Great story.:P
awesome!