The long road to recovery

Posted on 11 Oct 2012 @ 9:29am by Chief Warrant Officer 4 Cyrus Kiwosk

757 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Episode 02 - Resupply
Location: Shuttle 937, Arrival on VEGA IX
Timeline: 1300 MD 1

The loud agonizing bell rang for what seemed to be the tenth time that flight followed by the same loud male voice of the shuttles captain.

"Attention all passengers, we shall be arriving on Vega IX in approximately three hours and twenty minutes. Please stay tuned for more details.

Cyrus pressed his hands against the sides of his head in order to repress his ever growing headache. His shoulder was irritated underneath the fabric of his plain white T-shirt and the inner lining of his black leather jacket. He tried to ignore it all but it just seemed that it bothered him even more every time he tried NOT to think about it.

He sighed and placed his hands on his lap and attempted to lean back on the extremely uncomfortable chair that he had been sitting in for the past few hours. Despite the Captain giving his numerous updates on the voyage of the small transport shuttle, relatively little had transgressed during the entire length of the voyage except one person had been sick in the bathroom.

He knew he needed sleep, but without the medication that was safely locked away in the cargo bay, he knew that sleep would give him nothing but tortured memories of death and the dying. He would simply have to endure the rest of the voyage in silent agony.

The three hours and twenty minutes ticked by slowly, but sure enough they did pass and soon Cyrus was awaiting his duffel and hand bag of personal affects. He claimed them both with relative ease and proceeded to the hotel San Frenso, where he had made reservations for the night.

He decided to grab a local map and walk, the site he had found had said that it wasn't too far away from the docking yards. He wondered aimlessly for what seemed like hours when he spotted her.

The USS Galileo looked like it had gone through a wood chipper. The hull was littered with holes large and small, scorch marks tarnished the gray-white steel. Cyrus couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be like the Fitzgerald all over again and that he had transferred himself from the fry pan into the oven. He took a steadying breathe, desperately fighting back the flash back that was threatening to overwhelm his senses and tore his gaze away from his new home away from home.

Instead, he turned his eyes forward and sure enough he spotted a large red sign flashing in bright white lights: SAN FRESCO. "Well looks four star-ish to me." He murmured under his breathe as he continued walking toward the large building attached to the massive sign. A door man, bent by time and age smiled and opened the door for him, which seemed funny to the 203lbs brickhouse of a man. He smiled and nodded in recognition to the elderly man as he walked into the building where he was greeted by a large lobby and marble tiled floors.
"Sturmgeist really pulled some strings..." He said out loud...his voice echoing down the halls.

"hmmmmmm. May I assist you sir?" A small whine pierced Cyrus's thoughts. He looked to see the man in the receptionist, a small, thin man with a long mustache that Cyrus thought could only be found in bad villain movies.

"I'm looking for a room under the name Kiwosk?"

"Hmmmmmm, one moment please, yes." Cyrus couldn't help but notice the man's nose seemingly jumped straight up, he couldn't look more pompous even if the receptionist tried. The little man typed slowly as he brought up the guest list.

"Mr. Cyrus Kiwisk?" The man asked.

"Um, Kiwosk...yeah that would be me." He coughed anxiously.

The man reached under the desk and procured a set of swipe cards. "Your room is on the third floor, yes, second on the left....hmmmmm enjoy your stay ser." The man overused the last syllable as if he were greeting some knight from mythology. Cyrus mumbled his thanks and took the card keys from the desk, making for the elevator.

Once he was in his room he took out the his toiletries back and popped his two sleeping pills. The effect worked instantly as he curled up into the overdecorated hotel bed. He had enough time to glance at the clock and set it for 0830 for the following day before drifting off into a deep dreamless slumber.

morning would bring him one step further on the way to recovery, and the Galileo was the ticket....

He hoped.

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