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On Patrol: The Morning After is Like Any Other

The morning came too quickly. I awoke to the shrill whistles cursing myself for being human. My muscles ached and cramped if I didn’t stretch them out which was decidedly difficult in the net hammocks that we used for beds. For the first time since flight school, I longed for a real bed with a matress and thick soft blankets.

Nightmares that I thought I’d outgrown had plagued me, incorporating the most terrifying events of last night like those grinning clockwork monstrosities. I lost track of how many times that hanging suspended in mid air, I fell to the rocks below. Those dreams more than anything allowed me to to fight the urge to go back to sleep and I wrestled myself out of bed.

I stopped to warm my hands near one of the steam pipes before proceeding to the showers. Water, adding considerable weight to the ship was severely rationed and reused. Showers were little more than a quick spray of mist, vigorous soaping and another quick misting before drying.

Once I was shaved, I was ready to face the day.

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