Join Date: Sep 2012
Location: Deepest, darkest Buckinghamshire...
“Borski! What’s taking you so long?” Churian marched over to where the technician was squatting beside the open control panel.
Borski scowled before getting up and turning to face the approaching lieutenant.
“The fragging thing’s well and truly jammed, sir,” retorted Borski, placing more than a little sarcastic emphasis on the ‘sir’. The two men glared at each other, visors barely an inch apart, for several seconds before Borski broke the silence.
“There’s no way we’re getting that door open unless we cut through it,” he said.
“That’s not an option. We’ve lost enough time already with you failing to do your job,” Churian replied scornfully. “Cutting through the armour of that blast door could take hours. I have a far better idea.” Borski did not like the sound of that one bit.
Churian turned to the other two crew members. “You two; give your crew mate a lift. Borksi’s going to see what’s on the other side of that door.”
Cursing to himself, Borski stowed his gear and shouldered past the gloating lieutenant.