Hortan put on a new pair of regular issue TGFT-green pants, instead of the old pair that was now a part of the ever expanding cloud of debris, formerly named "The Ole Sloth Moth XC V". Actually, that was just about the only good news, he thought, at least now he would have a pair that fit. The TGP station klaxons were blaring in the background,
"Incursion detected Ukari/Helios wormhole, unknown; incursion detected Dau K-10, Jolly Roger, dispatching Strike Force immediately...."
If that was not bad enough, the TGFT SSCU unit was going full tilt as well,
"All fighters scramble. Multiple bogeys inbound on all UIT wormholes. All fighters scramble. Call your squadron leader upon launch for intercept vector."
He tightened the belt and noticed that the pants were just as small as the last pair. And the name tag on his chest was still Horton. Sighing deeply, Hortan turned to ask the recovery technician why they insisted on giving him pants that were too small, but he had no time for questions and ushered Hortan out of the immediate recovery facility with some haste. In the background Hortan could see the blue glow of several activated APR systems and decided that he was probably right. He could take his questions elsewhere.
One of the worst things of the APRS, was that it always left Hortan famished. Even if he was in the worst situation of his life, he had always trusted his stomach and was not about to stop now. Pocketing his no flight belongings such as his wallet and keycard, he headed towards the TGFT mess hall, but had to quickly move to one side as three pilots in regular green flightsuits with the nametags Mor Isil, Lambin and Pasqual came running the opposite way. Pasqual stopped at Hortans side.
"Pilot, haven't you heard? General alert, all fighters are to scramble?". He looked at the nametag on Hortans chest, "Horton, where have I heard that.." he frowned and looked at his left thumb and index as if mentally counting.
"Ah, HortAn, they misspelled it didn't they. Happened to me too, I was Pascal for the longest time. Quick, come get your combat ship and call your squadron commander, ok? Oh, and I am nearly out of Helio Mists, better have some when we have kicked some pierat ass, eh?"
He pricked Hortan in the chest, and when Hortan looked down, he moved his finger up to Hortans nose. Pasqual gave a quick laugh and ran after the others.
Hortan considered the situation. As a pacifist, there was no way he would launch in a combat vessel. He didn't even own a weapon, what could he do? On the other hand, he had no real desire to go and sit alone in the TGFT mess hall when everybody else was out fighting the pierats, pierats he may have been the cause of. He turned and walked towards the TGP general mess area.
The TGP mess area was much larger, than the now familiar intimacy of the TGFT mess hall. Somewhat of an agoraphobe, Hortan went to the nearest food outlet along the bulkhead, and ordered some NiceSoy™ stir-fry. The only bad thing about the TGP mess hall, was that he had to pay for the food, but at least he seemed to be the only TGFT member here. He sat at the plastic table and looked shyly around. Why was that girl with the light brown hair in the light blue flightsuit staring at him? Well, she didn't now, but before for sure. He started eating, and felt eyes staring at him again. Looking up, nobody was looking at him. The girl had obviously finished her food, because she was moving towards the trash collection point to Hortan's left. Maybe that was what she had been looking at. He relaxed slightly and started to eat again, only to be startled as the girl fell, slipping in some grease leftovers. Hortan immediately reacted and tried to catch her, only to fall on top of her leftovers, but at least cushioning the fall for her, as she hit him squarely in the chest with her elbows.
"Sorry", she said as she hurriedly stood up, "I truly am". She turned and walked away briskly.
Hortan was speechless. Not that he didn't want to say something, but the air was punched out of him badly. He only had strength enough to turn and look at the brown eyed girl as she almost ran out of the mess hall.
Getting up in his now soiled new uniform, he decided that the best thing to do now was to get clean, get some sleep, and tomorrow go see the local Ship shop about getting a new Moth XC. He would probably have to order it specially painted, not many pilots used neon yellow these days. And then he would get the sizes fixed for the uniform too. And a new blanket. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. He was going to make sure of that.
He went down to the very quiet hallway and took his keycard to his cubicle from his pocket. Well, he would have, but it was no longer there. And neither was his wallet. Hortan was certain that he had received them at the usual post recovery booth along with his clothes, had he left them at the TGP mess hall? He turned and walked back to the table he had occupied, but it was not there. Sighing, he decided that it would have to wait until tomorrow. He went to his cubicle again and enabled the manual scan override. He punched up the form for reporting lost items, but decided that the 13 different forms he had to fill, was not going to run away, and so could wait.
With his Queen smiling at him, he went to sleep.
In the seat of his favourite combat vessel, Miexon looked out at the alerted PA fighters with a sense of pride. The summons to alert status had been met by 11 fighters, surely PA's finest. Something was brewing, and he didn't like to be caught unawares. The situation had not involved PA so far, but TGFT and the Vipers were sorely pressed on all wormhole sectors. Until he knew why, he was going to maintain this alert.
A message flashed on his SSCU. Punching the receive button, he noticed that it was from his forward observer, the liaison officer to TGFT.
->MiexonBionic: "The pilots name is Hortan. Don't know what he did to start this. Will investigate further."
He punched a message back to the observer
->xxx: "If needed, ask TGFT HQ directly. You have 24 hours."
He lifted the left buttock to let some blood come into his leg. He feared it was going to be a long wait.
