Coming Aboard
Larry Rongside
"Are you absolutely sure this is a necessary and proper JMC scientific test
protocol?" the poultry farm hand asked, as he set the last of the twelve
chickens in the air lock.
Staring blankly at the hold of birds and not caring to look at the chicken
man, Larry Rongside extracted his JMC Department of Science identification
card, with the new rank markings of Lieutenant, from his pocket. As he held
the ID card toward the man, Larry took another long, hot gulp from his
oversized coffee mug filled with deep black caffeine-enriched java. The
poultry farm hand shrugged and went about his assigned work- they were the
genuine orders of a Lieutenant.
"All set," the chicken man stated, closing the inner door of the air lock.
Larry nodded. "That will be all."
"I have to ask," the man said, not yet willing to leave, "What is this all
about? I'm not finding a need for a scientific test-study of the living
quality of twelve chickens enclosed in an airlock. Is this some kind of
emergency survival..."
As the man rambled on, Larry punched the airlock controls to watch the outer
airlock door pop open at an alarming rate. As if a chicken didn't have a
hard enough life, what with all the eating and pooping, the loss of gravity,
oxygen, and pressure from a somewhat set life schedule (ingestion and
excretion) seemed to overwhelm the edible foul. Lieutenant Rongside nearly
cracked a gleeful smile as he watched the birds fight to lose their newly
attained ability to fly (or float) and return to the airlock floor. It
didn't take long for the feathery free-floaters to be out of sight and out
of mind.
As the mortified farm hand stood watching the now empty airlock, Larry
picked up his bags and headed for his next destination. Java in hand and
bag over shoulder, Rongside was right in life. His brief stay at the
Poultry Factory was simply a fruitless layover from the JMC who knows what
to the JMC Blue something, his fifth ship assignment this year. The fact
that he jumped ships every month or two didn't bother him too much. He
could never settle in and buckle down to actually make any progress or do
any work so his tour of duty was almost a full time vacation including
endless scenery changes.
It didn't take long for Larry to find the ship, shake the greeting hands,
say a few quick hellos, and forget everything and everyone that he just
encountered. Not that it mattered- this ship probably wouldn't keep him on
any longer than the others. He dropped his bag in his room and immediately
went on a hunt for a means to refill his coffee mug. His hunt led him to
the science deck- after all, if there wasn't a universal java dispenser
within reach of his desk already, he would have to get one installed before
the Dwarf left dock.
Larry walked into the labs and carelessly noticed something was amiss.
People were scrambling in all directions with various forms of
hazard-control tools and protective gear. Larry strolled through and
watched as fires and chemical spills ranging in all forms were tended to by
a frantic science team. The whole thing didn't really phase Larry- he still
hadn't found his coffee dispenser.
"Lieutenant!" cried the voice of a science ensign.
Larry almost neglected to respond- the concept of authoritative rank was so
new to him. He slowly turned to look at the young man.
"Lieutenant Rongside, Sir, we've had a small explosion caused by an
experiment station but we think the problem will soon be under control," the
ensign reported.
Larry didn't give any though to it and turned away to continue on his quest
for a caffeine high.
"Lieutenant!" the ensign persisted, "This is a contaminated area- you may
want to find a protective suit!"
Larry thought about shrugging but proceeded without making the effort. He
finally came to his office at the other end of the deck- the walls were not
blackened and warped from the explosion. He opened his door, noted there
was no coffee machine, and promptly exited. How could this be a productive
working environment without a coffee dispenser. He proceeded down the hall
to the next door. Opening the door he found a young woman sitting back in
her chair reading something from a file. Her eyes darted across the small
room to see him enter and she wasted no time jumping to attention.
"Ensign Cauty reporting for duty, Sir" Marlene stated in a most proper
greeting.
Larry bobbed his head up and down and waved his coffee mug lazily in
greeting. Why did these ensigns have to have such ambition this early in
the... whatever part of the day it was. He looked past her to examine the
enormous mechanical mess on her desk.
"Does that make coffee?" Larry asked, indicating the mechanism.
"Actually," Marlene replied, somewhat taken by surprise, "it's a printer..."
Larry rolled his eyes and sighed to himself. Would java never come?
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