Tevun-Krus #100

81 - The Helmet Story - @JeffreyVonHauger - Military SF

The Helmet Story

By JeffreyVonHauger

Figgs straightened up. She loved telling stories, especially ones about herself.

"You know I'm Seventy-two right?" Figgs physically looked like a teenager.

"Advanced maturity level and everything," said Zorpia.

"Grumpy. When you're twice as old as you are now, let me know how you like it."

"Sorry."

"It's ok. I still like you. Anyway, the helmet story."

"Yes, the helmet story," repeated Z.

"At the beginning of the Neptune annexation, they were rushing everyone through the academy. I was a real rule follower back then."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I was. They rushed us through to get as many of us into action as possible. I was a gunner on a dual-turret assault craft. A DT-17, do you know what those are?"

"Yeah, little planet hopper killing machines, snubnosed, kinda phallic-looking?"

"That's the one. So, they would drive a freighter right up to the front, drop a hundred DTs off, and high tail it out of there. Basically, the hanger bay would open into a firefight. You either lived or you got blown to pieces. There weren't a lot of casualties during the crusades, just deaths." She paused.

"Crews got real lax about protocol."

"Now, that I believe," said Z.

"Right. So, they might dump us out in a barren desert, above a city, near a base, or in open space, you never knew until the last second."

A moment later, she continued. "I, being an ever-faithful rule follower, always wore my helmet and my harness. It was just something my drill instructor pounded into my head. He was such a towering hulk of masculine wisdom. The things that man taught me." Figgs feigned a swoon.

"You were telling the helmet story." Zorpia folder her arms.

"Right, well, they dropped us just beyond the orbit of Triton and all hell broke loose."

"The helmet story is from Triton? As in the Siege of Triton? That they teach at the academy?"

"Yep. The colonial forces blew us to bits from the second we left the hold to our approach to the surface. I was firing like a madwoman all the way in. A real kill-anything-that-moves kind of entry. Our pilot was a badass and could dodge anything. We zig-zagged our way over to the volcanist city of Forge."

"You fought in the Battle of Forge?"

"Yep."

"The last time nuclear weapons were used in space against humans?" asked Zorpia.

"That happened three days later. After we failed to take it by force. So, there I was blasting away, strapped into my gunner's seat, the youngest gal on the crew, and bam! A ship not fifteen meters away from us blows into a million pieces. An academy buddy of mine, Curtis, was piloting that ship. Curtis was good, really good. Maybe even as good as you. And like you, Curtis made one mistake. Just a split second of misjudgment. A momentary hesitation that caused the loss of his life, every person on board his ship, and everyone but me on mine."

"I'm sorry, Figgs."

"It was over fifty years ago. So, the ship blew to pieces in a fiery explosion, so big and so close I thought for sure we were dead. But we weren't, yet. A million parts went flying in all directions, including a titanium chunk of the motor assembly that sailed right through our port hatch window." Figgs paused for effect.

"A million to one shot. A 7-centimeter jagged chunk of metal through a 10-centimeter window on a spaceship doing five times the speed of sound. I mean what are the chances?" Another pause.

"Being the only one who wore a helmet and harness, I got a lot of guff from my crew. They called me lucky and chicken, and I started to flip up my visor. Call it my first step in a gradual descent into rule-breaking. Anyway, when that window broke we were still in orbit and the vacuum sucked out the entire crew, and everything not nailed down in the ship. The sound was horrifying. A smash, followed by quickly muffled screams, and the air ripped from my lungs. It left behind an acrid burnt smell and insane cold."

Figgs looked Z in the eyes. "I only experienced it for the second it took me to lock down my visor but in that second I nearly died. It was like driving a bullet train through my head. I needed skin graphs, facial reconstructive surgery, eye surgery, and artificial eardrums."

"So everyone is gone and I find myself, blurry-eyed, deaf, and in horrible pain on a ship hurtling out of control. I unbuckled my harness and made my way out of my turret down to the empty cockpit. It was all training instinct from thereon. Me fighting the controls. Me desperately searching for the right switch. Me pulling out of the spin, turning around, and making it out of there without being shot down. Which I did. Somehow. I didn't even know I was deaf until I landed back on the frigate."

"And that is why I always wear a helmet on takeoff and landing; the most dangerous times."

Zorpia looked out the big curving glass window in front of her, then to her right where her helmet sat stowed since the day she took the job a year ago, then to her intriguing new friend. They both wore flight suits that would protect them from minor exposure but would be worthless without the helmet in the event of a breach.

"You're one surprising first mate."

"Thanks. I'm lucky to have a Captain who tolerates a messed-up war vet. Don't ever join the military." Figgs sat there humming and looking pleased with herself and her story.

"Why do you still fly then?" asked Z.

"It's all I know. It makes me feel in control. I couldn't do anything else." She finally made a serious face. "One day it'll kill me. Just like everybody else."