Journal Entry 212 / 0164 "Kennet?" The shout from the command cabin jolted me awake from yet another short catnap.Journal Entry 212 / 0164 "Kennet?" The shout from the command cabin jolted me awake from yet another short catnap. The four-day transit time to Terra was trying on my nerves and stamina; Kangaroos are great trans-atmospheric shuttlecraft, but they're cramped inside. Information is light, so I had plenty of reading, music, video, and even writing to keep myself occupied if I so desired. Consumables such as food are not, and our technology in that field isn't as advanced as Terra's, so my stomach, and I guessed the stomachs of my five companions, were not so content. I groaned audibly as I creaked out of my chair, stiff and sore, and walked forward on velcro slippers to the CC. I grabbed hold of a support strut and leaned in casually, looking down at our lovely Felinzi pilot. "What's up?" She didn't look up from her console as she said, "You said advise you when we were leaving hyperspace. Ten minutes." "Mph," I agreed tiredly. I noted the copilot's chair was empty. "Shtamed taking a nap?" "Yep," she replied. "Go ahead, have a seat." I eased myself into the red-upholstered chair and strapped the harness on, looking over the ever-bewildering array of readouts, displays and consoles. In the first six years of Pendor's shift to a space-faring culture, many people had been surprised at the sudden rush of people anxious to get "out there." I had not been so surprised. I'm so fully aware of diversity that I was sure we'd have hundreds of talented starstruck Pendorians anxious to take their place as crewfen. Pendorians who would understand why I insisted on having a small crew learn about zero gravity and spaceflight even before we lived in a place with stars in the sky. |