The Mind of a Pilot
Mechanics Son: "Good Luck Sir!"
Pilot: "Luck doesn't have anything to do with it."Out there, survival is about respect and trust. You have to respect the machine and trust the pilots that you patrol with to have your back no matter what. You have to do the same for them. If not you will truly be lost to the daisies. Now finish strapping me in and tell your father I will be off patrol in a few hours. He owes me a rematch tonight in the pub. Close the hatch. I must get going my patrol is starting in a few minutes."
The Hangar Doors slowly slide open and I stride out into the vast embrace of the sun.
I turn around and wave to the young man that helped me into the javelin. As I do this I notice a daisy popping thru a crack on the landing deck. I gently reach down with the javelin and grab it. I walk it over to the young man and give him the daisy. I slowly back up toward the edge of the landing deck taking in all the sights and sounds of the local market and the inhabitants of the tiny little space camp. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I take one last glance at home then dive backward off into the unknown. As I free fall into the cavernous jungle below, I realize that anyone of these patrols could be my last. It saddens me, but not because I'm frightened or scared. I'm torn because people like that young man I just left behind will never truly know what it means to be free. To be in this exotic place amongst the exotic wildlife and vegetation is like nothing I've experienced before. I wish my wife and sons could have seen this.
I roll the javelin over, turn on the thrusters, let out a big scream and head out to the northeast quadrant of the jungle where my patrol will begin.
written by fatalKombo