Up And At Em
Posted on Sat Nov 8th, 2025 @ 7:38am by Lieutenant Colonel Cornelius Tremble
Edited on on Thu Nov 13th, 2025 @ 7:40am
785 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Episode 17 - Going Home
Location: The Quarters of Cornelius Tremble - Deck 2 - USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD008 0700 hrs
Neil couldn’t lay in bed any longer. He had too much work to do and babying himself wasn’t going to get much more than paperwork done. He’d been back in his own quarters for a couple of days and spent both of them letting the graft for the mechanical leg’s hard point heal with his flesh. Healing wasn't quite the right word. It was more like...meshing. The thing was knitting itself in, and that felt odd.
On top of that, his foot was always cold. Bone chilling cold no matter what he wrapped it with or had the heat on the binding wrap set at.
At least that’s what his brain was telling him as his nerves tried to make sense of the messed up signals. The cold was only the most persistent of sensations, but it was the one that kept waking him up at night. It had only been a a week since the events on Wren IX, but he knew he’d be carrying all of that with him for the rest of his days.
However many of those there would be.
Sitting on the edge of the bed that he now routinely shared with Jayna (It was more of a matter of whose quarters they spent time in than anything) he considered that as well. Their relationship wasn’t a secret by any means but where was that going and what did he need to do to make sure things kept on an even keel ? He’d thought about it more and more and knew he wanted her in what bits of life he had left in him.
The events on Wren IX had him reconsidering his mortality.
Again.
And he hated that.
Neil knew that without the EAS suit, he’d been dead a couple of times over, probably. He’d reviewed all of the after-action reports and footage that Rommie had reconciled and tied together from all of the Cure’s suit recorders. The AI had definitely proven herself and he thought that Tyler was warming slightly, though Neil knew he was going to have to review the AI’s role and redefine it within the Cure and aboard the Pioneer as well.
The general was missing, and someone, somewhere needed to do something about that.
Something rather permanent if Neil had a say.
Also in the mix, the Cure were due on Mars at the proving grounds in a couple of weeks for a detachment exercise where all the parts would be measured up to Corp standards. Given everything they’d been through, Neil had tried to get that particular dog and pony show cancelled, but had been told firmly to shut up. His argument that this wasn’t a Battalion exercise had gotten him only so far.
It was going to be up to Ed to make sure the kiddies were on the bounce and get things ready. The MARVEL-EAS suits were going to take weeks of work to get back field ready….
And the crew needed healing. This last mission had effected just about everyone. The Cure and ground team had had the opportunity to get some of their own back, but it had been a mess. Neil was well aware of that.
Speaking of mess, he would also have to meet with Vura. He couldn’t let the stick up her back-side get between the running of the ship, so that was on the list too.
Looking again at the bed that had taken him five minutes of awkward flailing to make, he wiped at his brown and pushed himself up onto his mechanical leg. The arm-crutch was tied into the mechanical wrap that criss-crossed his left left leg, giving support and was set to gradually increase the weight he could put on the leg as his body got used to it. He needed to be fully signed off by the time they got to Mars or he wouldn’t be allowed in the war-games, Suit or not. Checking the time in his HUD he got his uniform tunic on and stumped his way out of his quarters, well aware of the limp and jerking motion he was having problems smoothing out.
Neil needed to see and be seen around the ship. He needed practice walking again and there was a lot to do, as usual. Including something Larta wanted to talk about. Neil fully intended to get everything done on his own two feet.
Or foot.
A Post By:
Lieutenant Colonel Cornelius Tremble
Executive Officer, USS Pioneer
Battalion Commander, The Cure
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