Will Richard Save the Day on his Day Off? You Decide!
You walk down to the mess and get your bowl of government issued glop. The room is pretty busy right now and you wonder if you'll be able to find a place to sit. After wandering around, you eventually find a seat next to your roommate/copilot, Peter.
"Hey Richard, how's it going?" he asks.
"Fine," you say. You take a bite of your meal and grimace. "I don't know how they expect us to win the war eating stuff like this. What is this, synthetic oatmeal?"
Peter laughs, "We should be so lucky. I hear this stuff is made of recycled plasma engines and horse meat."
"What?"
"Never mind, my attempt at humour. Seriously though, there have been rumours flying about, and I don't mean about the food. I hear that things have been heating up around the Polaris System and a lot of the armada has been sent there to secure the region, leaving us to virtually fend for ourselves. A guy I know in Intelligence says that the enemy could try to break through the front line and come for us."
"That ridiculous," you say, with your mouth full of the disgusting glop that passes for food in the military. "What would they want with us?"
"Well," Peter continues, obviously getting excited, "If they manage to seize this station not only would it be a big morale boost for them, it would also give them a foothold in this quadrant. I'm telling you, there's an attack right around the corner that we can't handle, and Brass isn't telling us anything because they're worried that we'll all mutiny or desert or something."
"You have some good points, but I think you're just being paranoid."
"Listen, if there was an attack soon the enemy would probably have some forward scouts around here. I say we take our glider and go out looking for them. We can say we're just volunteering for more reconnaissance. What do you say?"
"Hey Richard, how's it going?" he asks.
"Fine," you say. You take a bite of your meal and grimace. "I don't know how they expect us to win the war eating stuff like this. What is this, synthetic oatmeal?"
Peter laughs, "We should be so lucky. I hear this stuff is made of recycled plasma engines and horse meat."
"What?"
"Never mind, my attempt at humour. Seriously though, there have been rumours flying about, and I don't mean about the food. I hear that things have been heating up around the Polaris System and a lot of the armada has been sent there to secure the region, leaving us to virtually fend for ourselves. A guy I know in Intelligence says that the enemy could try to break through the front line and come for us."
"That ridiculous," you say, with your mouth full of the disgusting glop that passes for food in the military. "What would they want with us?"
"Well," Peter continues, obviously getting excited, "If they manage to seize this station not only would it be a big morale boost for them, it would also give them a foothold in this quadrant. I'm telling you, there's an attack right around the corner that we can't handle, and Brass isn't telling us anything because they're worried that we'll all mutiny or desert or something."
"You have some good points, but I think you're just being paranoid."
"Listen, if there was an attack soon the enemy would probably have some forward scouts around here. I say we take our glider and go out looking for them. We can say we're just volunteering for more reconnaissance. What do you say?"