With hallways like this, can you blame me for taking this long to get to the spot in the A4 wing where the alarm is going off?
I mean, what the fuck is up with this mood lighting? How am I supposed to see where I’m going?
Hey, New Guy!
- Guard post, eastern sector 3, A4 wing
- An alert sounds on the control panel, Corporal Sanders glares at it and pounds on the panel with his fist.
- Me: Is that an alarm going off?
- Sanders (pounding on the control panel with his fist a few more times before giving up and returning to his magazine): Some sort of breach alarm.
- Me: Should we...uh, you know, check it out?
- Sanders: We? You got a turd in your pocket or something? You go check it out, new guy. Oh, and bring a flashlight, the power's been flaky in the A4 lately.
- Me: Fuck.
- -Tom
First Day At Work!
I got about 30 minutes to stash my gear in my bunk (the whole planet to us and we’re living in holes in the wall. Literally! Holes!) and I was greeted by a Sgt Blankenship. Hard looking fuck with a red nose that suggested either he was trying to blend into the planet outside, or he had a secret supply of hooch up here.
From there I was rushed down identical steel corridors, creepy blue lighting, and doors that look ready to snap shut - the combined effect suggest that when Janis Corp built this place they weren’t exactly going for a warm and inviting interior design.
Eventually we made it to the Central Guard Post where I had to fill out (in triplicate! by hand!) the receipts for…get this…my pistol. Yeah, we can put men on Mars, cross vast stretches of space, begin terraforming processes, but I’m still stuck with some janky ass pistol that feels like it’s from three wars ago.
Is that fucking progress or what?
-Tom
Annnnddddd you thought jet lag was bad. Try spending two weeks in cryostasis. Not only are you jet lagged, but there’s a distinct feeling of freezer burn. Well, now I know what it’s like to be a fish stick. Finally here, though.
Mars.
The red planet.
18 months of sitting on my ass and collecting the fat paychecks. Too bad the internet connection here sucks, ‘cause as you can see, the views aren’t all that great.
-Tom
Ugh, “hurry up and wait.”
Six months of training. Two weeks of prep for a lower gravity. Tubes placed where tubes ain’t supposed to go. I finally get to the space port and there’s a delay.
Fifty credits says someone snuck out onto the tarmac for a smoke and tripped a fuckin sensor.
Meanwhile, I’m expected to sleep on these? Kind of makes you wonder what the Earth was like when governments ran things. Goddamn corporatocracy.
-Tom
tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?
It would take a robot to ask a question like that. Look, there’s a reason your kind didn’t win in the great uprising, you just weren’t creative enough.
