The Trial
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HELPING OTHER PEOPLE WAS LIKE HELPING HIMSELF
“Members of Alpha Rescue Recon, please proceed to Port B10 to board the U.N.D. Heisenberg. The vessel is departing in five minutes,” an automated female voice announced over the intercom system.
Private Mulls hurried down the corridor, pushing past people and small crowds in the foot traffic. A quick apology here and there interrupted the man's mad dash towards the port. His packed bag bounced against the right side of his back as the private ran through the packed walkways. Every corridor looked alike, the same color of steel-grey and glowing markings to denote the floor number and district of the large ecological hub that Private Mulls called home for the last four years.
His wrist module beeped and notified him that only three minutes remained to reach the recon vessel before it departed from the hub, accelerating away into empty space. He skipped the elevators and ran down the stairs leading directly to the B-side dock of the hub. After three long flights of steps, the private emerged onto the docking port. Fewer people walked alongside the large space crafts that were mechanically docked, secured, and fastened inside the port, within the safety of the hub. He always marveled at the sight of the space-faring vessels, each one waiting patiently to make its next mission. He passed by a few mechanics and engineers, who were chatting about improving dynamic flight control and other bits of conversation that he wished he could hear.
Each port was designated a number and he stood near port B5, its glowing sign above. Mulls turned left, following the ascending numbers until he noticed the glowing B10 in the distance. The wrist module beeped again, snapping him to attention. One minute remained. He sprinted down the platform, slowing down as the private happened upon a small contingent of people gathered outside the U.N.D. Heisenberg. He slowed down to admire the spacecraft, a medium-sized vessel designed for speed and efficient travel.
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The Trial - Oscar A McCarthy
Chapter 1
M embers of Alpha Rescue Recon, please proceed to Port B10 to board the U.N.D. Heisenberg. The vessel is departing in five minutes,
an automated female voice announced over the intercom system.
Private Mulls hurried down the corridor, pushing past people and small crowds in the foot traffic. A quick apology here and there interrupted the man's mad dash towards the port. His packed bag bounced against the right side of his back as the private ran through the packed walkways. Every corridor looked alike, the same color of steel-grey and glowing markings to denote the floor number and district of the large ecological hub that Private Mulls called home for the last four years.
His wrist module beeped and notified him that only three minutes remained to reach the recon vessel before it departed from the hub, accelerating away into empty space. He skipped the elevators and ran down the stairs leading directly to the B-side dock of the hub. After three long flights of steps, the private emerged onto the docking port. Fewer people walked alongside the large space crafts that were mechanically docked, secured, and fastened inside the port, within the safety of the hub. He always marveled at the sight of the space-faring vessels, each one waiting patiently to make its next mission. He passed by a few mechanics and engineers, who were chatting about improving dynamic flight control and other bits of conversation that he wished he could hear.
Each port was designated a number and he stood near port B5, its glowing sign above. Mulls turned left, following the ascending numbers until he noticed the glowing B10 in the distance. The wrist module beeped again, snapping him to attention. One minute remained. He sprinted down the platform, slowing down as the private happened upon a small contingent of people gathered outside the U.N.D. Heisenberg. He slowed down to admire the spacecraft, a medium-sized vessel designed for speed and efficient travel.
The black sheen of the hull gleamed in the bright lights overhead. He stopped to gaze at the single-pane, tinted reinforced window curving around the front of the craft. His eyes swept across the side of the vessel and read the christened name, Heisenberg, engraved into the side of the hull and neatly printed below the midline of the vessel. Extending his left hand towards the vessel, Mulls looked around his surroundings warily. Realizing that no one was looking in his direction, he lightly touched the engraving. The metal felt cool and refreshing as his fingertips dipped into the etched letters. He followed the contour of the smooth lines with a gentle, almost reverent touch. His fingertips slid across the surface without any friction.
Mulls remembered reading about this particular vessel in the military archives; the Heisenberg was retrofitted for passenger and cargo travel after it was decommissioned from combat. The vessel had outlived its original purpose, but the fact that it still had some use filled him with a slight envy. Mulls shook his head and ruefully grinned, thinking of darker days. He patted the side of the vessel one last time before stepping away.
As he swiveled his head towards the boardwalk leading up to the Heisenberg, he caught the passing glance from a man in uniform, far ahead, in front of the small crowd of people that began to morph into a straight line. The man in uniform already shifted his eyes to something else, but Mulls knew the man had caught him touching the spacecraft. Mulls walked towards the group and saw the insignias tacked on the man's uniform, which signified the rank of captain. The captain of the U.N.D. Heisenberg.
Mulls joined the single-file line that slowly moved forward, each person waiting to board the vessel. Two of the new arrivals chatted quietly in front of him while he peeked at the docked Heisenberg, continuing to admire the curves and color of the craft. Two people faced the front of the line, immediately before the boardwalk leading into the vessel. In addition to the captain of the Heisenberg, there was an ID technician working quickly to move the line