The Search for the Fluron Particle
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
It wasn't fair. Not at all. She mulled over in her mind how mission control could make such a decision and not even consult her. The audacity of it boggled her mind.
Taylor had been assigned to this mission on accident essentially, but her contributions were many. It wasn't like she was unqualified, it was just that the person that was supposed to go was a slightly better choice on paper. It wasn't her fault he died in a training accident, but she knew that even though she was miles away that somehow the crew here and back home in the command center had blamed her on some subconscious level.
And now they were going to get their way, apparently. A scouter was zipping its way out to the rift to pick her up and take her home, even though the search for the mysterious and possibly nonexistent fluron particles had yet to cease.
An infinite source of energy. Something she wrote her thesis on. It was in her wheelhouse and they wanted to take it away from her.
"Not without a fight," she said under her breath.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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- Published 6 years ago.
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If you are qualified and others want to remove you, you better well fight and prove your worth.