09-14-2009, 03:19 PM
The glaring of the lights did nothing to evaporate the head splitting pain.
Monsieur? Vous ?tes ?veill?. Comment vous vous sentez? a soft female voice rang out.
What? Where am I? was all Gol could muster as the world swung round and he planted his feet firmly on the ground. The first thing that hit him was the smell the thick, moist scent of overly recycled air mixed with engine fumes and a trace of humanity in the mix.
I apologise sir, I didnt realise you were an outsider the woman replied in an accent Gol thought familiar but couldnt quite place maybe it was the same as those military types who spaced him.
Gol looked her up and down, on first impressions youd not notice her good looks for the fact she was wearing a baggy, piecemeal reactor/boiler suit, covered in oil and grease stains that extended up to her face, giving her the look of an industrial commando on stealth ops.
He stretched, and felt a popping sensation come from his side, followed by a pain like someone stabbing him in the kidney and lung at the same time.
She rushed forwards, tutting, as Gol lowered himself gingerly onto the rickety iron bed.
Youve popped all your stitches it took me an hour to seal you up she said with an air of disappointment whilst jabbing a large, dirty syringe into his arm.
The pain eased away quickly, whatever it was, this stuff was quite agreeable.
So, how did I end up well, where I am and who are you? Gol managed to slur out as the drugs kicked in.
Just rest, I will explain it all to you later. Rest now monsieur youre lucky to be alive she said placing a reassuring hand on his forehead and Gol entered a wonderful, drug induced slumber.
Of course, looking back on it (it seemed like a lifetime ago) its not how he would have wanted his first meeting with his now wife to have been but hell, out of the hell of being blown to smithereens by the Gallic Royal Navy and loosing a kidney and rib to debris smashing into his escape pod, hed snagged himself a hot wife and a decent extended family.
Also of course there was the vessel the Casabianca she was magnificent hed seen Salvagers on his travels over the years and heard the rumours of how they were grown not manufactured but nothing had prepared him for the experience of captaining one.
He often smiled to himself over that last part within a week of him and Helena becoming married hed been offered the captains chair by her father. She was next in line when the old man, Uriah, decided he wanted to retire but shed refused on the point that her talents were as an engineer (and it must be said a damn fine medic to boot), not a stick monkey as she so finely calls pilots. So it came down to Gol, the newest member of the family and the only other person on board with decent flight experience.
Yes it seemed, deep down, Brostin was finally ready to admit he was on his way to settling down in a hopefully long and fruitful career plying the space lanes, continuing his new found families Junker traditions and steering clear of other peoples conflicts its rare that sticking your nose into others business pays off and Gol decided not to tempt fate again by giving out opinions, after all as his father once told him Opinions are like backsides, everyone has one and they all stink
Monsieur? Vous ?tes ?veill?. Comment vous vous sentez? a soft female voice rang out.
What? Where am I? was all Gol could muster as the world swung round and he planted his feet firmly on the ground. The first thing that hit him was the smell the thick, moist scent of overly recycled air mixed with engine fumes and a trace of humanity in the mix.
I apologise sir, I didnt realise you were an outsider the woman replied in an accent Gol thought familiar but couldnt quite place maybe it was the same as those military types who spaced him.
Gol looked her up and down, on first impressions youd not notice her good looks for the fact she was wearing a baggy, piecemeal reactor/boiler suit, covered in oil and grease stains that extended up to her face, giving her the look of an industrial commando on stealth ops.
He stretched, and felt a popping sensation come from his side, followed by a pain like someone stabbing him in the kidney and lung at the same time.
She rushed forwards, tutting, as Gol lowered himself gingerly onto the rickety iron bed.
Youve popped all your stitches it took me an hour to seal you up she said with an air of disappointment whilst jabbing a large, dirty syringe into his arm.
The pain eased away quickly, whatever it was, this stuff was quite agreeable.
So, how did I end up well, where I am and who are you? Gol managed to slur out as the drugs kicked in.
Just rest, I will explain it all to you later. Rest now monsieur youre lucky to be alive she said placing a reassuring hand on his forehead and Gol entered a wonderful, drug induced slumber.
Of course, looking back on it (it seemed like a lifetime ago) its not how he would have wanted his first meeting with his now wife to have been but hell, out of the hell of being blown to smithereens by the Gallic Royal Navy and loosing a kidney and rib to debris smashing into his escape pod, hed snagged himself a hot wife and a decent extended family.
Also of course there was the vessel the Casabianca she was magnificent hed seen Salvagers on his travels over the years and heard the rumours of how they were grown not manufactured but nothing had prepared him for the experience of captaining one.
He often smiled to himself over that last part within a week of him and Helena becoming married hed been offered the captains chair by her father. She was next in line when the old man, Uriah, decided he wanted to retire but shed refused on the point that her talents were as an engineer (and it must be said a damn fine medic to boot), not a stick monkey as she so finely calls pilots. So it came down to Gol, the newest member of the family and the only other person on board with decent flight experience.
Yes it seemed, deep down, Brostin was finally ready to admit he was on his way to settling down in a hopefully long and fruitful career plying the space lanes, continuing his new found families Junker traditions and steering clear of other peoples conflicts its rare that sticking your nose into others business pays off and Gol decided not to tempt fate again by giving out opinions, after all as his father once told him Opinions are like backsides, everyone has one and they all stink