------------------- 3 Days after Lehon:
Atrus ----------------------------
Sweat poured down his brows as Will sat back in the seat. He could hear the heart beating in his chest, feel it pounding against the rib cage, painfully. His legs and arms screamed in pain from their last ordeal. But above all other pain, his head ached from the thoughts that flowed through it. He couldn’t remember the last time this had happened to him, at least not in the last three years. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much trouble with a simulation program. But then again, never before had he had to go through what he did in the last mission, what his squadron went through, what his wing went through. Near total annihilation.
The mission at Lehon was officially declared a victory, but deep down, Will knew, just as every other surviving member of the mission, it was far from victory, it was a disaster. When you serve with a small group of people, over time, feelings develop, regardless how little. You become a family. You start to care for their well being. Even if there was someone you hated, the sense of dislike is still a feeling. When they are gone, you realize just how much that feeling of dislike had become part of who you are. As a previous squadron commander, Will had lost numerous members under his command. All good men; all gone. The first one was always the hardest. Then, as the numbers stacked up, one by one, you get used to it. Until it was no longer a question of if anyone will die in a mission, but who, and when. Rarely had he come out of mission where no one screwed up, no one died. But never before had it been more than one or two for each mission. Losing entire squadrons, two-thirds of a six-squadron wing, that was something new to Will. The sudden loss of life, the mental trauma, has finally caught up with him.
“Step out of the simulator please, Lieutenant.”
Will didn’t really want to. The pain, even if they were just inside his head, and not really there, was too much to bear. He wanted to just sit there, in the little dark room, where time could be imagined to stop, and was in a separate dimension from the rest of the universe, where he could just wither away, and not have to do anything about anything.
To his dismay, the imitation hatch hissed slightly as it was opened from the outside. “C’mon, you’re not going to accomplish anything sitting in there.”
Irony. Will thought,
or can this guy read minds too?“Have a seat on the bunk over there.” The doc said after Will got out of the machine, and then proceeded to give Will a medical check. After ten minutes, the doc put away the instruments and looked at will, contemplating how he was going to say it. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, though not terrible, and could be worse.”
“C’mon doc, just spit it out, what the hell is wrong with me? I mean, I feel fine. When can I go back to my room?”
“No, you don’t feel fine and you know it. I’m a doctor; don’t try lying to a doctor. I’m putting you on probation. You are suffering from a light case of posttraumatic stress disorder, as you clearly demonstrated just now inside the simulator. You’re having trouble concentrating; you’re spazzing out. You’re letting your emotions get in the way of better judgment; you just lost an entire squadron there, including yourself. As a doctor, I’m pulling you from active duty. You will go through rehabilitation for the next three months. If your condition does not improve, you may be discharged with honor from service. While you’re in rehabilitation, you are forbidden to go even near a star fighter. Do I make myself clear, Lieutenant?”
Will didn’t answer. The words were spoken by the doc, but weren’t heard by him. His mind started slipping as soon as the doc said “probation.” The next few sentences were in a blur, as he heard bits and pieces of it only. And the mind completely shut the voice out after “I’m pulling you from active duty.”
To the doc, he may have said “discharged with honor”, but to Will, it was no different than a dishonorable discharge. Anything short of personal retirement was dishonorable discharge; aside from retirement, all other options were made by superior officers, not he. And he wasn’t going to allow that.
“What am I supposed to do in the mean time?”
“You will be given a desk job.”
Are you frakking shitting me? Was what Will wanted to say, but he managed to refrain from it. He was too exhausted to start something at the moment.
“I know you don’t want this. But it’s either this, or three months of seclusion inside the medical bay. Your choice.”
“I’ll take it. Am I allowed to leave the ship in the meantime, doc? I might do some light traveling while I’m off anyway. May help get my mind off things, you know.”
“Yes, but only if you’re not the one flying. A change of environment will be quite helpful.”
----------------------- 5 Days after Lehon:
Abrae -----------------------
“Lieutenant Willtconq here to see Admiral Denethor.” Will saluted lightly with a wave of hand to the aid sitting outside the double office doors.
The aid keyed the comm, then allowed the Lieutenant through.
“Sir.” Will said lightly.
“Hi there. To what, do I owe this pleasure?” The Admiral asked with a warm smile.
“Ah, you know, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m always running to you when I’m in a pinch.” That part was actually true. When Will just joined the Navy, fresh out of the Academy, he had the luck of being placed under the two would-be-most-powerful-men in the Navy, his then flight leader, now Naval Executive Officer Shazam, and his then squadron commander, now Naval Commander in Chief, Denethor. And he’s got to admit, having friends in those places has its perks.
“Yea. So, what can I do for you? Drink?” The Admiral asked while pouring himself a glass of ale.
“No, thanks. Well, you’ve probably heard, Phoenix Wing got…”
“Yes, I gave the authorization. I’m sorry. The decision wasn’t easy, but after all these years, I thought it would be a good time to finally lay it to rest.”
“It’s not about that.” Will said quietly, with this head half bowed.
“Then what is it?”
“I need your help. I was ordered to take a medical exam two days ago.” Will, just like the doc from two days ago, paused slightly to contemplate how to deliver the news. “I was given a desk job.”
“What?” The sudden release of a breath as the truth came out stopped even the Admiral in his thoughts. Will was still young. For him to be given a desk job was nothing short of tragic. Men in their twenties should not be confined to a desk, especially someone as skilled and talented as Will. Denethor knew that. “What for?”
“The doc declared me unfit for duty due to a slight case of posttraumatic stress disorder, from the Lehon incident. I had to get special permission just to fly from the
Atrus to come and see you. And if my conditions doesn’t improve, I will be discharged from service.”
“Oh. Well. At least there’s a good reason. What do you want me to do about it? I can perhaps postpone the discharge for an additional few years, but,” Den looked up from his glass, then after a brief silence. “Oh, no. No. There’s no way I can put you back into a fighter. Will, you know better than that. Not only will you be charged with insubordination, I will most likely be charged with recklessness. How can you even suggest that?”
“I didn’t. I knew that wouldn’t fly. So I had something else in mind.”
“Another one of your brilliant schemes?”
“Heh, I hope so. The doc said I’m prohibited from fighter piloting. And I’m not to go anywhere near a Tie. But he didn’t say the ‘desk job’ had to be
stationary. Nor did he say anything against a change in profession.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Sir, I am formally requesting to be transferred from Star Fighter Corps to serve on a ship instead. That way, I can still get to see action, at the same time, fulfilling the requirement of staying away from piloting. Look at me; I’m twenty five years old. I have another fifty to eighty years before I die a natural life. You know as well as I do. I won’t be able to stay away from flying, it’s my life. If it’s not with the navy, then it will be with some other group, maybe by myself. But since I’m going to fly anyway, you might as well put someone like me to good use. I understand your concern lies with the lives that could come in danger. That’s why I suggested this. I won’t be faced with the kinds of situations I had to face from the inside of a cockpit. According to the doc, the symptoms only show if I’m inside the cockpit. I can do this.”
“You’re sure about this? This kind of favoritism will not be looked upon lightly. And I don’t want to hear that you crashed a ship into a god damned planet.”
“Yes, sir. Of course not, sir.” Will saluted sharply, then with a softer tone, “Thank you, Den. This means a lot to me.”
“I’ll get back to you in a few days with your new assignment. I can’t promise you anything, but it will be a ship, and a suitable position for someone of your rank and skills.”
- OOC:
- Alright already. Happy now?
wc: 1653
