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post #41 of 48 (permalink) Old 12-29-2015, 01:23 PM Thread Starter
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Elizabeth vaulted from the bed, and called 'SAM?'

'Good MORNING Commander!' SAM's s eager feminine voice surrounded her.

'0500 Medevac from Tilba base

0700 Environmental malfunction aboard ESV Greeley , voice message follows... ' 'Mekong' began a shivering, angry bass...

'Back to screen!' Green hoped SAM wouldn't take it personally. Scrolling quickly, Green digested the information. Almost. Like Anyongo's Harissa chicken there was something about 1 entry that didn't sit right, lingered. Anyway, time to get moving. 'Motivated' she yawned.
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post #42 of 48 (permalink) Old 03-09-2016, 06:04 PM Thread Starter
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The antigrav shower was just the right temp, and she gloried in the hot water, as it swirled around the chamber. And like dog scent made her old cat bristle, something in her refused to surrender completely to the comfort of the soothing, invigorating swirl.
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post #43 of 48 (permalink) Old 05-26-2016, 03:45 PM Thread Starter
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Elizabeth was on her 3rd cup of coffee, when things fell into place. She'd had a big breakfast, time to get the show on the road. Finishing her sausage, and a stack of pancakes, she'd begun checking out the medevac report.Tossing back half a cup of Ecuadorian, shed scrolled to the the retinal scan. Maybe she'd have more java. Maybe she'd have a bowl of Paleoyum Crunch. She might get some stares. Heckwithit. Maybe... She froze. Recognition surged through her like the rinse cycle of a antiquated clothes washer she'd seen in Sydney. Only a computer could identify someone through a retina scan. But she recognized the EYES. Setting down the coffee cup, she rose so abruptly, the steward backed up. Control. '20 on ...Archer...BIRDMAN?' She snarled.

Last edited by bluemilk; 05-26-2016 at 03:50 PM.
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post #44 of 48 (permalink) Old 05-26-2016, 03:50 PM Thread Starter
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THE SR. ANNNE... She must have a legit reason. This was a medical issue... She texted Dr. Strickland.

HE'D BETTER ANSWER...
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post #45 of 48 (permalink) Old 06-07-2016, 04:59 PM Thread Starter
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As Anthony Ridge drifted toward wakefulness, he felt no need to speed the process. his stint in the tactical forces had taught him that waking was a shock to the body and mind, better to acclimate yourself to the bright clanging world of complete awareness. Dreams closed over him, dreams of fire, war and terror. He allowed himself to drift upward, past the surplus film still in his head. Ouch. His arm felt like a star in flare season. He had sensation in his hands and he allowed his awareness to trickle into his wrists, his hands, his fingertips. And encountered an iceberg of pain. O.K, Anthony, let's take her slow. Memory stirred.
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post #46 of 48 (permalink) Old 06-07-2016, 05:02 PM Thread Starter
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He was a boy growing up in Xenia, then a youth in Youngstown during the Consortium scandal...
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post #47 of 48 (permalink) Old 06-07-2016, 06:18 PM Thread Starter
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A face fluttered from the recesses, haunting, familiar. Teasing, inviting... Their lips had locked, then their arms, then...

That old movie, suffering and war. Liz piloted the orbital cruise liner, taking her down, down, into the carnage and destruction, resolute, as weaponized plasma fountained sublimely around the ship. He snorted and brushed her off. 'Hunh, a space queen with guts.'

Blackness replaced image, as his body devoted energy to the task of gathering tactile data and getting his limbs on line.
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post #48 of 48 (permalink) Old 06-07-2016, 06:43 PM Thread Starter
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Was his circulation slow or was it cool around him? Five by five. The air was cool around him, crisp and sterile. He was safe on a ship, yet data from his rebooting brain told him this might not be a good thing...

He and Liz had fought and trash talked. he was joining the Tacs and that was F-I-N-A-L. And Liz was going in with him. Liz was joining the exploration service, conversation finis, and Anth would join her.

His eyelids fluttered. Light, painful and clear. Colors resolved into objects. And a figure.

He had fled across Rum Su's desert. He knew of an ancient ship, SHE must not...

The figure became small in stature, with fiery dark green eyes flaring and dancing on an aqualine face. Vocabulary began to return, of a low variety. 'Archer Birdman' had fallen into the snare.

'Anth. It's me. It's Liz. And I am so angry with you. But you can rest. Nothin' bad's gonna happen. you're safe.' When he resisted, violently, a nurse pressed an injector against his arm and triggered it. As he began to drift back down, Elizabeth Green leaned close. 'It's all wrong down there, I need your help' She may have said 'I need you', but he couldn't really be sure.
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