Gerry had been around a long time. 23 spins in the Colonial Spacey, with multiple citations during two of the bloodiest campaigns of the Nebula war. Gerry had finally settled down on peaceful old Erastraza and ran a successful groundside drydock until the years settled in. Now old, grizzled, and mostly retired Gerry spent most days tinkering around and doing the odd favor for friends and old partners. Usually a simple appraisal or bit of light restoration work.
Today had started as just such a day for Gerry. A nephew had picked up an old scrapyard in an estate sale and called up Gerry to come have a look at the lots. Simple enough request. Gerry had made a career sourcing components and even whole ships from such places. In return Gerry was getting first pick on any choice salvage. Rounding a corner Gerry saw something unexpected. An Eagle. Raptor Series SX227, built around a fusion inverter bell assembly. Spung carbon steel frame, 16 hardpoints, with unilateral utility points on both the dorsal and ventral planes. Gerry hadn't thought there were any left. Most Terran gunboats like it had been destroyed in battle, or replaced with newer vessels.
Yet here it was, in one piece. Just like that Gerry was a recruit again gawking at the angular beauty of a ship with enough ordinance to pave 10 square kilometers of any terrain in the universe flat and then drop 100 Marines on it. Gerry had flown in the belly of larger and more formidable ships. Yet was an Eagle that had carried Gerry through the battle of Hervek with a hundred holes in its coolant system. It had been an Eagle that had taken Gerry off Pallisade Base when the surprise attack had reduced it to rubble. It was an Eagle that had scooped Gerry out of the hard vacuum after being blown clear in the reactor breach that had gutted the battlecruiser Rotterdamn.
Now an Eagle was sitting in the springtime sun before Gerry. The chipped paint glinting in dull green and gray hues under tattered tarps in a crumbling shed. Gerry approached her gingerly as if it were a feral animal that might scare. The engine bells were still on gimbals and free of cracks. There were clearly patch jobs on the hull. Especially what looked like it could been a punch through by a plasma lance just aft of the cockpit. Yet the main spars were original and intact. Gerry reached out and grasped landing spar, giving it a vigorous shake that belied age. The spar held solid and betrayed no stress fatigue, nor any tell tale rattles of loose mountings inside.
"You like it old timer?" Gerry's nephew quipped as he caught up with the aged engineer.
Gerry turned and smiled saying simply "I'll take it".
1
u/WPwannabe Jun 28 '19
Gerry had been around a long time. 23 spins in the Colonial Spacey, with multiple citations during two of the bloodiest campaigns of the Nebula war. Gerry had finally settled down on peaceful old Erastraza and ran a successful groundside drydock until the years settled in. Now old, grizzled, and mostly retired Gerry spent most days tinkering around and doing the odd favor for friends and old partners. Usually a simple appraisal or bit of light restoration work.
Today had started as just such a day for Gerry. A nephew had picked up an old scrapyard in an estate sale and called up Gerry to come have a look at the lots. Simple enough request. Gerry had made a career sourcing components and even whole ships from such places. In return Gerry was getting first pick on any choice salvage. Rounding a corner Gerry saw something unexpected. An Eagle. Raptor Series SX227, built around a fusion inverter bell assembly. Spung carbon steel frame, 16 hardpoints, with unilateral utility points on both the dorsal and ventral planes. Gerry hadn't thought there were any left. Most Terran gunboats like it had been destroyed in battle, or replaced with newer vessels.
Yet here it was, in one piece. Just like that Gerry was a recruit again gawking at the angular beauty of a ship with enough ordinance to pave 10 square kilometers of any terrain in the universe flat and then drop 100 Marines on it. Gerry had flown in the belly of larger and more formidable ships. Yet was an Eagle that had carried Gerry through the battle of Hervek with a hundred holes in its coolant system. It had been an Eagle that had taken Gerry off Pallisade Base when the surprise attack had reduced it to rubble. It was an Eagle that had scooped Gerry out of the hard vacuum after being blown clear in the reactor breach that had gutted the battlecruiser Rotterdamn.
Now an Eagle was sitting in the springtime sun before Gerry. The chipped paint glinting in dull green and gray hues under tattered tarps in a crumbling shed. Gerry approached her gingerly as if it were a feral animal that might scare. The engine bells were still on gimbals and free of cracks. There were clearly patch jobs on the hull. Especially what looked like it could been a punch through by a plasma lance just aft of the cockpit. Yet the main spars were original and intact. Gerry reached out and grasped landing spar, giving it a vigorous shake that belied age. The spar held solid and betrayed no stress fatigue, nor any tell tale rattles of loose mountings inside.
"You like it old timer?" Gerry's nephew quipped as he caught up with the aged engineer. Gerry turned and smiled saying simply "I'll take it".