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The briefing had gone, well about as well as could be expected all things considered. Palmer was clearly competent and knew her job, but she didn't trust D.C>, which was probably for the best. The Counselor had always been very attentive to reports and connections made with others, the whole point of Freelancer was not to be noticed until you were gone. That she'd even stepped out of her bounds to speak with Tom alone had been teetering on breach of orders, but she couldn't have done it any other way. He deserved better than to be lie to, again.
Chyler and Tom had been so young, so full of promise. There had been days when she thought one day they'd have their own command together. Pipe dreams, but she at least had enough heart to dream them back then. Before everything changed, she didn't dream anymore, sometimes she'd remember, but never really dream.
Four or five days was a lot of time to kill and she couldn't just hole up in her room and wait, some of the Freelancers might, others might start fights, one would surely be training the entire time. But she wasn't like them, she sure as hell wasn't like Texas. Out of her armor she could fairly well blend in, something it would be hard for true Spartans to do. She though could fade into the crowd and get lost, listen to conversations and life and remember what she'd had something like that.
She'd decided to walk the ship, get a feel for Tom's Command, and what a ship she was. Huge really, ten times as long as Mother of Invention at least. She'd read over the specs before ever coming on board but still, caustically seeing it was incredible. By the morning of day two she'd walked far enough to find Memorial Park and had been stunned by how lovely and out of place it was. Suddenly a forest inside all that cold metal. She'd have to revisit it later, but something about it reminded her of other places and other times.
Her journey stopped at the mess hall, she followed the line like everyone else with no word or complaint. She could have chosen the officers mess but that seemed like pushing herself in somewhere she might not be wanted. She got her food and most importantly a large cup of coffee, still with cream and sugar. She'd never gotten used to it black and would only drink it that way if no other option was available.
With tray in hand she found an empty table along the side wall and sat, a data pad laid beside her tray and she began to read as she slowly ate cereal.
Chyler and Tom had been so young, so full of promise. There had been days when she thought one day they'd have their own command together. Pipe dreams, but she at least had enough heart to dream them back then. Before everything changed, she didn't dream anymore, sometimes she'd remember, but never really dream.
Four or five days was a lot of time to kill and she couldn't just hole up in her room and wait, some of the Freelancers might, others might start fights, one would surely be training the entire time. But she wasn't like them, she sure as hell wasn't like Texas. Out of her armor she could fairly well blend in, something it would be hard for true Spartans to do. She though could fade into the crowd and get lost, listen to conversations and life and remember what she'd had something like that.
She'd decided to walk the ship, get a feel for Tom's Command, and what a ship she was. Huge really, ten times as long as Mother of Invention at least. She'd read over the specs before ever coming on board but still, caustically seeing it was incredible. By the morning of day two she'd walked far enough to find Memorial Park and had been stunned by how lovely and out of place it was. Suddenly a forest inside all that cold metal. She'd have to revisit it later, but something about it reminded her of other places and other times.
Her journey stopped at the mess hall, she followed the line like everyone else with no word or complaint. She could have chosen the officers mess but that seemed like pushing herself in somewhere she might not be wanted. She got her food and most importantly a large cup of coffee, still with cream and sugar. She'd never gotten used to it black and would only drink it that way if no other option was available.
With tray in hand she found an empty table along the side wall and sat, a data pad laid beside her tray and she began to read as she slowly ate cereal.
