Day Zero

Posted on 2023, Thu Sep 28th, @ 2:46pm by Lieutenant Rose Andrake

289 words; about a 1 minute read

Day Zero's always Hell. Every new ship. Every new crew. New family.

Today was no different. I got my uniform issue, and apparently the Admiral overturned part of my summary judgement and promoted me. Nervous was the understatement of the century, but there I was, sitting in the Admiral's office, watching him drink coffee and explain something I've explained a dozen times to a hundred people, what I don't remember versus what I'm told I did.

He ordered me to see the counselor. His wife. Interesting choice, but you know, the Halo's supposed to be a good ship. And the man in charge apparently believes in second chances. I guess I'm home. I guess she'll do.

No hullsong, though. The warp drive's too even. I can still feel its thrum through the walls. But I can't feel the dust on the shields or the flickers of power in the walls. I can't hear the gurgling of water in the pipes or the slight hiss of gasses in the vents. Lexington was a Defiant class. And her song was glorious, like the ringing of an opera all the time. Such a mighty little ship. Loved her.

Even the San Clemente. California Class ships are old and rusty, but they've got this voice and this rhythm to them. Like the souls of everyone whose ever been on board is, in some small way, still there. Vulcans... Eeh? The Caerea was... Almost as tight lipped as her crew, And the Jorgenson was a wild old bird. Old bat more like.

But not all ships sing. It's weird. I grew up on centuries old hulls, where the song was so strong and so normal, that now when I can't hear it... It stings.

Tags: diary

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