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Stoat · (This post was last modified: 10-02-2012, 09:39 AM by Stoat.)

The tannoy barked into life

'Battlestations! Battlestations! All pilots to your vessels. All crews to your guns. Battlestations! Battlestations!'

Rachel fell out of her bunk, hauled on her flight suit and ran for the hangers. A month she'd been stationed on the Harlow now, and the training regime was getting tedious. She longed for some real action, an actual fight.

As she approached the hangars, a figure stepped out of a doorway, too close to avoid. She noticed the insignia of a Lieutenant Commander on the figures shoulder as they collided, both crashing headlong to the deck. She got to her feet, and hurried to the Lieutenant Commander as he started to rise. Standing aside him, she reached forth her hand to help him rise. A firm hand grasped hers.

'Sir! Oh, sir, I'm so .........' she stopped suddenly as she caught sight of who she was talking to, flustered.

'Oh!' she exclaimed. She was looking into the eyes of none other than Austin Rodney Goodman, Bretonian war hero, anti-hero, and barracks room pin-up. He was also one of the reasons she had decided to join up. Deep down, she wanted to be just like him. A Bretonian hero. 'I ....... ah...... um......... Sorry sir! Battlestations! Must dash!!'

She spun on her heel and flew the remaining distance to the hanger bay, and the safety of her Templar, muttering one word over and over.

Five minutes later she was in space, safe, but still swearing.

'Delta wing, report in.' The voice of Lieutenant Carter crackled in her headset. Her wingmen started to sound off.

'Delta seven, sir!' she called in order.

'Good show, delta wing. You're getting there. Break and head for home. We'll be debriefing in fifteen.'

The Templars turned and headed back to the Harlow. Once docked, Rachel joined her wing and headed for the debrief. Sat in the room, she chatted idly as they awaited the Lieutenant. Eventually he entered, and they stood as he made his way to the podium.

'At ease.'

The ensigns sat back into their chairs. All eyes were on Carter. This, they knew, was where they got their assignments. This would be the final part of their training. Active service as part of one of the fleets. Collectively they held their breath in anticipation.

'Well done, delta wing. You have all successfully completed the training program, albeit some more successfully than others. You get a week planetside, then you report to your new fleets. These are as follows. Jenkins, Markey, Baldock, you're headed for the Essex. Brown, Jones and Grey, the Derby. Simkins, Furlough, Hachett, the York. Wright, Maxey, Millar, the Suffolk. Carter, Blake, O'Grady, the Ark Royal. Congratulations ensigns!' Carter saluted. Delta wing rose and returned the salute crisply, smiles on all their faces. 'Dismissed!'

A cheer erupted from delta wing and they turned to congratulate each other on their postings.

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