- Local time
- Today 7:38 PM
- Messages
- 556
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Some place, some battle in the future...
Justin was not sweating. One of the first times ever in fact. He was normally reviled because he sweated so much. He was fat, even he admitted to himself the fact. He was not big boned, he was not "husky". Nope, he was fat, on the Navy's weight management program, about to be discharged out the door. The only job he could get on board a serving combat vessel was as a ship's cook. Which made the first impression of him all the much more shaming as the hottest damned cabin in all of the ship was the mess. Wave after wave of salt and water and trace bits of urea. About the only thing going for him was the fact at least he didn't stink when he sweat.
Justin was not sweating now though. The fire saw to it. It was raging out of control, and nothing they did would put it out. There were two pilots caught behind the flames, the explosion from the missile hit, cutting into near the core of the ship. The pilots were trying to get to the other launch bay and got caught. Justin was part of the damage control party charlie-four. He was just a body, someone to do the grunt work, but the Decius had been behind enemy lines for weeks now, and the body count on the ship kept getting larger. They had no choice but to pull non-essentials into DC parties.
I, I wish you could swim
Like dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing, nothing will keep us together
We can beat them, forever and ever
Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day
They were running out of time. The fire could breach a weapons locker and if it happened, the resultant explosion would take down the ship. Justin didn't think, did not even hesitate, as he ran straight into the blue-white flames. It was hot, so hot it was melting the bulkheads. The DC suit Justin was wearing never meant to take the heat he waded through without a second thought. His intercom was off, which was a good thing, as inside his suit, he sounded like a dying pig, and hit notes only a man with no balls should be able to hit. A pain fueled cry like nothing he ever heard before. He was past the fire, and found his hands were not working like he wanted them too. It was hard to see, and there was a red cast to his vision which wasn't there before.
I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive us away
We can beat them, just for one day
We can be heroes, just for one day
Heat was kissing his face, and Justin saw it now. The face plate to his suit had deformed and cracked. His air was leaking out. He had minutes to do what he wanted to do, minutes to carry out a task which all of the crew had mocked he would never be able to do. He was fat, out of shape, just a sack of suet in the uniform. It was what Winter's called him one time in the mess when she caught him looking at her. There was Winter's now, near passed out and minutes from dying unless he did the one thing she told him he would never ever do if he was the last creature in the galaxy. Put his hands on her.
I, I can remember
Standing, standing by the wall
And the birds shout above our heads
And we kiss as nothing could fall
But the shame, the shame was on the other side
Oh we could be them
Forever and ever
He picked Winters under her armpits and dragged her along the deck to the hatch she came through when the missile hit. It was hard, and his vision was narrowing, but he managed to do it, to carry her past not one by two hatches before dropping her to the ground, and he fell to his knees like a sack of meat. He could have given up then. No one would have judged him, not a single person. He had done all anyone could expect of him. No one else would know when it was all over. No one save him.
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day
Justin picked himself up, somehow made it to his hands and knees and dragged himself to Commander Thomas. The Commander was the new CAG. The most experienced pilot on board the Decius. They needed him. He was one of a kind, just like Winters, despite being a bitch at times. They could get back into the fight, save more people, save the ship. A fat, over the hill cook wouldn't. No one would miss him, but they would Winters, they would Thomas, and Justin was going to make certain no one would miss them.
He left a trail of blood and burned skin as he dragged himself and Thomas over the threshold. Thomas and Winters were side by side, starting to stir themselves awake now they were away from the fire. Somehow, Justin pulled himself up, and closed the hatch. He could see the CAG, face moving as if in slow motion from confusion, to realization, and finally denial as he tried to get up, but he was too weak, the smoke still poisoning his lungs. Medical was coming through the other hatch. They too were trying to reach Justin, but it was too late for him. He knew it. He could not feel anything anymore, and his vision was going back. He had enough time to do one last thing. He moved his body, flopping like a dead fish with so much bloody and charred meat which was once his body. Flailed it against the emergency release. It contacted, and suddenly there was an explosive decompression. Oxygen vented from the cabin, and the fire which threatened the ship was gone. Justin smiled as he started to feel cold, so cold.
The room is packed. Too many times it has happened before. All the faces are somber, serious. Winters is there, tears running down her cheek. Thomas isn't crying, but it's clear his self discipline is there by a thread. Mom is there too, so broken up, and I don't know why. She should be proud of me, right? There is a voice in the background as the woman stands at the platform. Who is she? Oh right, it's President Dale. Why is she there, and why is she crying too? Makes no sense.
"We are here to honor Specialist Fourth Class Justin Hill, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity, sacrificing his life in an action above and beyond the call of duty, saving his ship from destruction..."
I, I can remember (I remember)...
We can be Heroes, just for one day...
Justin was not sweating. One of the first times ever in fact. He was normally reviled because he sweated so much. He was fat, even he admitted to himself the fact. He was not big boned, he was not "husky". Nope, he was fat, on the Navy's weight management program, about to be discharged out the door. The only job he could get on board a serving combat vessel was as a ship's cook. Which made the first impression of him all the much more shaming as the hottest damned cabin in all of the ship was the mess. Wave after wave of salt and water and trace bits of urea. About the only thing going for him was the fact at least he didn't stink when he sweat.
Justin was not sweating now though. The fire saw to it. It was raging out of control, and nothing they did would put it out. There were two pilots caught behind the flames, the explosion from the missile hit, cutting into near the core of the ship. The pilots were trying to get to the other launch bay and got caught. Justin was part of the damage control party charlie-four. He was just a body, someone to do the grunt work, but the Decius had been behind enemy lines for weeks now, and the body count on the ship kept getting larger. They had no choice but to pull non-essentials into DC parties.
I, I wish you could swim
Like dolphins, like dolphins can swim
Though nothing, nothing will keep us together
We can beat them, forever and ever
Oh we can be Heroes, just for one day
They were running out of time. The fire could breach a weapons locker and if it happened, the resultant explosion would take down the ship. Justin didn't think, did not even hesitate, as he ran straight into the blue-white flames. It was hot, so hot it was melting the bulkheads. The DC suit Justin was wearing never meant to take the heat he waded through without a second thought. His intercom was off, which was a good thing, as inside his suit, he sounded like a dying pig, and hit notes only a man with no balls should be able to hit. A pain fueled cry like nothing he ever heard before. He was past the fire, and found his hands were not working like he wanted them too. It was hard to see, and there was a red cast to his vision which wasn't there before.
I, I will be king
And you, you will be queen
Though nothing will drive us away
We can beat them, just for one day
We can be heroes, just for one day
Heat was kissing his face, and Justin saw it now. The face plate to his suit had deformed and cracked. His air was leaking out. He had minutes to do what he wanted to do, minutes to carry out a task which all of the crew had mocked he would never be able to do. He was fat, out of shape, just a sack of suet in the uniform. It was what Winter's called him one time in the mess when she caught him looking at her. There was Winter's now, near passed out and minutes from dying unless he did the one thing she told him he would never ever do if he was the last creature in the galaxy. Put his hands on her.
I, I can remember
Standing, standing by the wall
And the birds shout above our heads
And we kiss as nothing could fall
But the shame, the shame was on the other side
Oh we could be them
Forever and ever
He picked Winters under her armpits and dragged her along the deck to the hatch she came through when the missile hit. It was hard, and his vision was narrowing, but he managed to do it, to carry her past not one by two hatches before dropping her to the ground, and he fell to his knees like a sack of meat. He could have given up then. No one would have judged him, not a single person. He had done all anyone could expect of him. No one else would know when it was all over. No one save him.
We can be Heroes, just for one day
We can be us, just for one day
Justin picked himself up, somehow made it to his hands and knees and dragged himself to Commander Thomas. The Commander was the new CAG. The most experienced pilot on board the Decius. They needed him. He was one of a kind, just like Winters, despite being a bitch at times. They could get back into the fight, save more people, save the ship. A fat, over the hill cook wouldn't. No one would miss him, but they would Winters, they would Thomas, and Justin was going to make certain no one would miss them.
He left a trail of blood and burned skin as he dragged himself and Thomas over the threshold. Thomas and Winters were side by side, starting to stir themselves awake now they were away from the fire. Somehow, Justin pulled himself up, and closed the hatch. He could see the CAG, face moving as if in slow motion from confusion, to realization, and finally denial as he tried to get up, but he was too weak, the smoke still poisoning his lungs. Medical was coming through the other hatch. They too were trying to reach Justin, but it was too late for him. He knew it. He could not feel anything anymore, and his vision was going back. He had enough time to do one last thing. He moved his body, flopping like a dead fish with so much bloody and charred meat which was once his body. Flailed it against the emergency release. It contacted, and suddenly there was an explosive decompression. Oxygen vented from the cabin, and the fire which threatened the ship was gone. Justin smiled as he started to feel cold, so cold.
The room is packed. Too many times it has happened before. All the faces are somber, serious. Winters is there, tears running down her cheek. Thomas isn't crying, but it's clear his self discipline is there by a thread. Mom is there too, so broken up, and I don't know why. She should be proud of me, right? There is a voice in the background as the woman stands at the platform. Who is she? Oh right, it's President Dale. Why is she there, and why is she crying too? Makes no sense.
"We are here to honor Specialist Fourth Class Justin Hill, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity, sacrificing his life in an action above and beyond the call of duty, saving his ship from destruction..."
I, I can remember (I remember)...
We can be Heroes, just for one day...
Last edited: