Eric Olafson, Midshipman (Vol 4) - Cover

Eric Olafson, Midshipman (Vol 4)

Copyright© 2008 by Vanessa Ravencroft

Part 35: WOLFCRAFT

Midshipman duty was not just intensified learning but we also rotated to different duty stations on the ship. Security, Navigation, Science, Medical, Engineering and so forth and worked alongside experienced officers who instructed us often by example. This was almost like my time on the Hyperion and what we called the real Officers, Chiefs and Crew members of the Devi were professionals through and through, proud to be good enough to be on the Devi. They were patient and if you did your job and showed you understood what they wanted you to know they treated us like real crewmembers as well.

This was the main reason why the third year was completed aboard a ship. To put into use what we already learned, and work and serve alongside professionals in real situations.

It did not always go smooth of course and we did not always meet the expectations of our instructors.

The rivalries among the Midshipmen groups became more intensive and Wetmouth, we called Wetty believed it was done on purpose to intensify the team spirit within the dorm groups. It was all supposed to be one big Navy family of course, but Departments aboard the Devi competed with each other, in a friendly professional manner of course, the Marines competed against the Navy. Captains competed against other ships with drill times, engine performance, weapon precision and a million other things. Har Hi said it was the same in Dai Fleets and subtle encouraged by the underlying command philosophy to keep everyone keen and on top of their game and always a little aggressive. It was easier to go into battle with an alert, well trained crew that was not afraid to compete and always wanted to win. In Civilian live it was okay to say, you go first or to say it is okay you came in last, you gave your best. Not in the military, the one that came last would be dead and no one cared if the last gave its best. With this philosophy in mind it was understandable why Clusen or now Lt. Merkus often ridiculed a group, unlike Clusen however, Merkus was not picking on one group but let whoever was last have it.

Aboard the Devi there was constantly something going on. Sport contests in every conceivable sport. Ring corridor marathons, wrestling matches, dancing contests, chess competitions, art and music exhibitions just to name the top of the list. Contest carried prestigious prices such as ribbons, medals and trophies. The most convened prizes were Captains Recognition awards or the ultra-rare Admirals Recognition awards. Our instructors either ordered us or encouraged us to participate and to win for the team.

Last week workmen installed transparent show cases next to each dorm door. Awards could be displayed in those for bragging rights.

Even though we understood the psychological reasons for the awards and the show cases and I hated to be vane, I could not dismiss a sense of pride looking at ours, every time I walked by.

It was Friday afternoon Ship and Union time and Mao and I came back from Tactical. We had worked seven days under the stern command of a Gunnery Chief who made us do Level 1 maintenance on three Translocator Cannons and their bomb elevators. While it was a prestigious patch and ribbon, as only selected few were allowed to know the ins and outs of a Translocator cannon and required a higher Security level than most Midshipman had or could obtain; it was bone breaking work and we were covered from head to toe in that slick hard to get off anything silicon grease for almost the entire time.

The Gunnery Chief was Thauran just like Suppor; at the beginning he displayed the same asshole qualities all Thauran seem to have in common but it turned out it was more for show and to test us than anything and after the third day turned out to be a great guy. He crawled with us through access shafts, was covered with the smeary slick silicon gunk just like us and I never met anyone as knowledgeable about Translocator Cannons than him and Mao and I learned things and details I was sure were not covered in any handbook or technical manual.

It had taken us two hours of actually bathing in a special solution to get the molecular grease of. Under normal conditions techs had little contact with the stuff, but during level one maintenance every component was taken apart to its smallest piece and cleaned, measured, scanned and measured and scanned again. When it came to TLCs not the smallest tolerance anywhere was accepted. I remembered the demonstration aboard the Shetland and didn’t mind the diligence and attention to detail.

While the silicon grease was odorless, the solvent was not and even after a long shower, we both still smelled like a Chemistry factory after a major spill.

Bognar, a spotted Attikan of the Blue Team, the Galaxy Masters stood in their dorms open door and snorted. “Iktane and Sorrows what a stink duo.”

Galman, a tall blonde guy claiming to be from Terra itself even though he was born on a place called Luna appeared behind Bognar and held his nose. “It’s two primitive barbarians of back water planets, they never heard of cologne and thought Detoxo-Scrub is the same.”

I wanted to ignore it but Mao turned. “This primitive barbarian might just forget all civilized behavior and perform an old manhunt. I bet you would look good as a shrink head in our display case, but then there is little room in ours.” Mao opened ours and put the Advanced Capital Weapon Expert badge we received inside. “Come Eric let’s see what the Galaxy Jokers added this week.”

“Maybe an empty bottle of Cologne so it won’t look so empty.” I could not resist saying, knowing full well that it was childish and could easily escalate.With the result of us end up in the Environmental tanks, sick bay or the Brig. Neither places I wanted to see on a Friday with a full weekend of nothing much in terms of duty on the schedule.

Of course the other teams weren’t bad they would not have been picked to serve their third year on the Devi, but all humbleness aside. We had a Saturnian, a Dai and Wetmouth in our team, not to mention Krabbel or the others and compared to the other cases ours looked stuffed full.

“How interesting,” Mao said leaning forward examining the Blue team’s case,”they actually added the fifth place medal of an Ice bowling competition. Now there is an award to be proud off.”

Bognar curled his chaps and revealed his formidable canine teeth and made a growling sound that came from the bottom of his chest and Galman smacked his fist in his open palm. “You may also note the bare fist boxing trophy, Captains Champion Middle weight. So I think you two crawl back to your dorm or I demonstrate to you how I got that trophy.”

Mao folded his hands. “Please, please tell me you just challenged me and not Eric.”

Bognar put his paw like hand on Galman’s shoulder. “Let it go friend, it is not worth it. Mao is Kick box champion, Heavy weight and I don’t think you want to go against Eric.”

“I am no coward.” Galman said.”I go against both of them for our honor.”

I said.”No one thinks you are a coward, at least I don’t and I congratulate you winning a Captain’s Championship, perhaps even going against a Marine or a load handler.”

Bognar growled less aggressive. “Twelve rounds against Glen Bosnick the former Devi Champ and a clear knock out. It was a great fight.”

Elfi and Wetmouth came down the Corridor. Elfi was wearing a short white dress and Wetmouth an almost skintight white coverall accepted outfits for medical personnel. Medic personnel outfits had changed over the years back and forth, but it was a noted boon for morality, especially for humanoid troops and soldiers needing treatment if the female medic personnel dressed that way. Now it was decried as sexist discrimination, but since wearing dresses was voluntary and not mandatory the civilians raising the issue had no real argument. I noted that almost all female human Med personnel I met so far opted for the short dresses. Deep inside a voice I hoped would stay silent told me why that choice was made.

There were many other female Midshipmen both humanoid and not, but these two were at least in human terms the sexiest and in Elfi’s case the prettiest of them all. Both of them knew that of course.

We left the two of the Blue team standing by their display and followed our dorm beauties.

Part of me was very attracted to the sway and the movement of those perfect round behinds and the long legs and I was certain Mao had similar thoughts, but there she was again. Almost forgotten and I hoped finally outgrown or gone, but my female side came up strong. It was all so clear on Coven and I could accept it there, but Coven was far away and my cursed confusion was back. I glanced at the ring that reminded me of my visit, it had become so much a part of me that I didn’t even feel it anymore or thought about it. No one had ever objected me wearing it and no one asked me about it either.

I was glad Krabbel and Har Hi interrupted my thoughts as they came in, followed by Hans, Shaka and Circuit.

Our chrome polished friend went right past us and plunged onto his bunk. “Friday and a whole weekend ahead, without any contests for me or chores, I think I sleep till Monday.”

Elfi sounded disappointed but she had an impish smile on her face a she said. “What a shame and I thought you might want to come with us to go shopping. Tomorrow is market day at the Village, with booths and stands and all that.”

Circuit made a weird shrieking sound and like a streak of chromed lightning he was out of the bed.

Har Hi laughed. “You did hear her say tomorrow, right?”

Lt. Merkus came in; it was never a good thing when a superior officer walked into a dorm at a time like this. Duty full we all stood in attention after Krabbel had announced him.

“As you were,” and then said what I actually almost predicted he would say. “I am sorry but two of you can’t go on R&R. Mr. Hi and Mr. Olafson you are with me.”

We looked at each other but Har Hi was shrugging his shoulders just as I was, but we followed the officer outside. He didn’t speak until we reached the next IST and then he turned. “You have earned your off time as much as anyone, but you two logged more simulator time than anyone and it was noticed. It does not happen very often and not every year, but you two are to report to Hangar Deck Sixty. Fighter Wing 12 and report to Commander Cotton.”

He smiled at us. “You are going to learn how to fly Wolfcrafts for the next three weeks.”

Har Hi blinked and swallowed. “For real Sir?”

“Report to Commander Cotton now and on the double and you find out.”


A lean and tall Commander wearing a flight suit even in his office didn’t really grret us and started right away.”I noticed that two Midshipmen booked simulator time, more than anyone else.

Again I hear the Midshipmen on Deck 54 have a weekend off and what do I see? Mr. Hi and Mr. Olafson’s name on the list for SIM time.”

He looked us up and down. “Over the last few weeks I sneaked a peek to see what SIMS you were running. Lord and behold, two Midshipmen running Wolfcraft SIMS at level 15 and scoring notable results.”

He leaned sideways and put his feet on his desk. “You two are going to serve the next weeks in my squadron. Each of you will get your own Wolfcraft Fighter and we forget you’re Midshipmen. I want you to get to know your craft to the last bolt and everything it can or can’t do. If I think you have what it takes I might even recommend you for fighter school.”

We both stood in attention but I could not completely control my facial muscles and that grin that kept creeping back, glancing over to Har-Hi, and even his usual stern face was not so stern anymore.

Wolfcraft fighter pilots where considered an elite among Navy Officers, and especially the pilots themselves believed that. They had a collective arrogance and pride second to none. Wolfcraft Pilots walked like Marines down a corridor, they owned it and others made way. Their state of dress was always different and less regulations.

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