Stranded on Verdana 4

"TORPEDO INBOUND, BRACE FOR IMPACT!" Said the ship computer. Thank the stars you'd gotten that glitch in your shield's software fixed; it wasn't going to be enough to save your light corvette, but it might be enough to keep you alive.

Five seconds later the crash made you lose consciousness and all the world went black.

This week had started so nicely.

Being an Engineer in the fleet of the United Terran Federation was not a thankful task. The Sailors and Marines were often lacking consideration for the non fighting personnel of the fleet, and your young age and intelligence did not help you fit in. For instance, just today your technical analysis of the glitch in the shield systems was met with great deal of skepticism by most senior engineers and fewer than a quarter of the ships you contacted even bothered to respond to the suggested patch you had sent out.

You had hoped when you graduated four years early from the academy with multiple advanced degrees (engineering, physics, hyperspatial theory and artificial intelligence programming) that you would find dedicated personnel much like you in the UTF Navy, but it turned out that this was a sure way to be an outcast even amongst your own.

Orphan to two war veterans, you were raised in the Institute. It was its only name anywhere it was, its purpose: raise the children of fallen heroes to replace them. Because of your genius level intellect, you advanced through your classes so rapidly that girls found little interest in you, the girls your age saw you as a incomprehensible dork, and the girls in your classes a prepubescent nuisance. The only 'dates' you managed to get ended being study sessions with girls that expected you to do their homework without any compensation but their presence. (when they didn't leave for a real date in the middle of it.)

Still, you graduated and joined the fleet. After years of indoctrination at the Institute you may have anyway, but you had . Despite the generous offers from private defense contractors, you were required to serve a six year term to reimburse the state for raising you. It wasn't all bad, you turned twenty during your second year on the Grendel, a massive troop carrier, and were promoted to second engineer of the reactor room. That was a pretty cool job -until the attack.

During a patrol your ship was boarded by a Draykchin slaving party. It went very wrong, all the support team died in an explosion and the reactor went into critical failure. Rather than flee to a lifepod, you went back alone in the blazing fury of the overloading reactor.

That day 12,765 lives were saved by your actions. By stopping the explosion you gave time to the marines to repel the boarders and save the ship and all its crew. It took you almost a year to recover from the radiation poisoning and the skin grafts that covered over 60% of your body.

Decorated with the Ultima Star, one of the fleet's highest distinction, you were awarded a commission to Captaincy on board of a small engineering support corvette attached to the ship carrier Acheron. (75% attrition in its last battles had left the Acheron Expeditionary in need of new blood)

The Gorgon, an Ophidian corvette newly launched from the shipyards on your homeworld, was your reward for service to the Fleet. The small support ship had been highly modified from a design originally intended for prospecting and scouting, into a ship capable of rendezvousing with ships in space and making small repairs. The bulk of what was once the cargo space was converted into a light manufacturing shop and two weapons bays to provide light fire support. With its streamlined hull it was capable of landing on planets, but it had the latest Ophidian hyperspace drive that let it travel pretty much anywhere. The Gorgon normally carried a crew of 5 and one android. It is currently is flying with a skeleton crew (you and two crewmembers) until the rest of your command is transferred the ship is so new that you had to remove the protective plastic wrap from your bunk the first night, and the repair-bot is still sealed in its case.

While in transit to the Acheron you got your last good news of the week. The Office for Growth and Population Replenishment approved your application. With a breeding license in your possession you'd soon be able to have sex with other crewmembers and do your second duty to Mankind. Your genes, aptitude and heroism got you an exemption from the strict non-fraternization rules of the fleet; you are one of its few members able to engage in such activities without censure. Furthermore, your luck with women would be sure to change as the possession of the breeding license gives you the UTF's official directive to reproduce. It is difficult (almost treasonous) for anyone you ask to procreate with to refuse.

Barely arrived, your bags thrown into the small commander's cabin of the Gorgon, the Acheron and its small fleet jumped for a patrol mission in the Verdana system, rumored to have an habitable world. You are still understaffed, but in a way that was not all bad, because both your pilot and engineer seem to know their jobs, and it was unlikely that you'd need either the missing weapon's officer or gunnery sergeant on this routine mission.