Shaking off the rust...
Hi, I hope you all had a nice Christmas, and still have a relaxing time.
Thank you all for your cards, sorry, no cards from me, but this year just wasn't.... it, for me.
Instead here a little drabble, hope you enjoy:
He flew above the range of the elements, almost, no, sure to be out of safety margin. Longing caused a drawn-out, squirted look at the deep blue sky above. Above, where the stars promised an endless freedom, the stillness of the universe. Still out of reach.
He sighed and keyed the board. Obedient the small craft banked, left the impossible height, the dark blue expectation of immunity. Duty. Responsibility for his peers, his friends, his people. He craved this solitude, here, up in the sky, but also warmth, closeness, after the too short bout of freedom. Also out of reach. Well.
An insistent beep signaled the expected nagging of flight control, again, sure to curse him out, again, for his reckless flight, far above the planned height on this test run for the small craft. He grimaced. Let them. They would curse, and spit, and scold, and threaten, but in the end all would grin and pat his back and gossip about the fabulous work they did in engineering. Absently he bit his lip and added a few more keystrokes, transferred the small craft on a more steep course, and closed his eyes as the abrupt embrace of clouds ended his sense of freedom.
He acknowledged the transmission, monosyllabic, checked the data transferred, worked the board and watched the screens as the small craft descended further, ran the check for landing, all which ended his valued solitude in flight, all to soon. He nibbled his lip as he set the craft down, gently, engaged the brakes, using all the length of the runway before executing a full stop. Well.
A crowd of people babbled as he finally stepped in, musing about this latest successful run, and absently setting his helmet down on the nearest plain surface. His flight suit half undone, sleeves knotted at his waist, he sauntered to his terminal, checking the readout. All well. The chatter had ebbed down as he finally straightened and turned. He raised an eyebrow and looked around. Only at most a third of the terminals were manned.
Of course, most of the staff were on leave today, and only a small crew, mostly bachelors had stayed, monitoring this test run, and they, too, were busy shutting systems down, and getting ready to retire for the rest of the day. He sighed quietly. Considered to stay some time longer, and decided against it. He began shutting down his own terminal, gathered some clutter from his workstation and discarded it, switched his screen off. In his mind, he already pictured his apartment, dark, and unwelcoming, and shortly pondered a detour for some take out. Asian would be nice.
He sighted. There had to be more than an empty apartment, and work.
Gathering his helmet, still undecided on his meal, he left the now empty control room and closed the security door. It clicked and a gentle note signaled the engaging of the lock while he already strolled along the gray painted corridor to the locker room. He reached his locker, opened it and stopped, hand on the still half opened zipper of his flight suit, his focus suddenly sharp. His senses told him there was someone else here. He should be alone in this room.
Turning slowly he took in the room, the lockers, the benches, Heero....
He stood, shell shocked. Stared. Blinked. Heero, who should be out on L2... wasn't. Sitting there, on the locker room bench, hair mussed, eyes glittering.
“Hello, Duo”, Heero stood, taking a step. “Merry Christmas. I missed you.”
Asian, definitely, it was.
Be well, and merry.... ^^
Thank you all for your cards, sorry, no cards from me, but this year just wasn't.... it, for me.
Instead here a little drabble, hope you enjoy:
He flew above the range of the elements, almost, no, sure to be out of safety margin. Longing caused a drawn-out, squirted look at the deep blue sky above. Above, where the stars promised an endless freedom, the stillness of the universe. Still out of reach.
He sighed and keyed the board. Obedient the small craft banked, left the impossible height, the dark blue expectation of immunity. Duty. Responsibility for his peers, his friends, his people. He craved this solitude, here, up in the sky, but also warmth, closeness, after the too short bout of freedom. Also out of reach. Well.
An insistent beep signaled the expected nagging of flight control, again, sure to curse him out, again, for his reckless flight, far above the planned height on this test run for the small craft. He grimaced. Let them. They would curse, and spit, and scold, and threaten, but in the end all would grin and pat his back and gossip about the fabulous work they did in engineering. Absently he bit his lip and added a few more keystrokes, transferred the small craft on a more steep course, and closed his eyes as the abrupt embrace of clouds ended his sense of freedom.
He acknowledged the transmission, monosyllabic, checked the data transferred, worked the board and watched the screens as the small craft descended further, ran the check for landing, all which ended his valued solitude in flight, all to soon. He nibbled his lip as he set the craft down, gently, engaged the brakes, using all the length of the runway before executing a full stop. Well.
A crowd of people babbled as he finally stepped in, musing about this latest successful run, and absently setting his helmet down on the nearest plain surface. His flight suit half undone, sleeves knotted at his waist, he sauntered to his terminal, checking the readout. All well. The chatter had ebbed down as he finally straightened and turned. He raised an eyebrow and looked around. Only at most a third of the terminals were manned.
Of course, most of the staff were on leave today, and only a small crew, mostly bachelors had stayed, monitoring this test run, and they, too, were busy shutting systems down, and getting ready to retire for the rest of the day. He sighed quietly. Considered to stay some time longer, and decided against it. He began shutting down his own terminal, gathered some clutter from his workstation and discarded it, switched his screen off. In his mind, he already pictured his apartment, dark, and unwelcoming, and shortly pondered a detour for some take out. Asian would be nice.
He sighted. There had to be more than an empty apartment, and work.
Gathering his helmet, still undecided on his meal, he left the now empty control room and closed the security door. It clicked and a gentle note signaled the engaging of the lock while he already strolled along the gray painted corridor to the locker room. He reached his locker, opened it and stopped, hand on the still half opened zipper of his flight suit, his focus suddenly sharp. His senses told him there was someone else here. He should be alone in this room.
Turning slowly he took in the room, the lockers, the benches, Heero....
He stood, shell shocked. Stared. Blinked. Heero, who should be out on L2... wasn't. Sitting there, on the locker room bench, hair mussed, eyes glittering.
“Hello, Duo”, Heero stood, taking a step. “Merry Christmas. I missed you.”
Asian, definitely, it was.
Be well, and merry.... ^^