p marker.
Mostly this was ignored (or at least not spoken of). But one man, an older professor who had seen a lot of young astronauts come through the program and leave better people--or at least people better at being flung into outer space--reached out his hand in respect, tutelage, and affection to her. He was later found in a hallway, sitting on the floor with a black eye and sobbing quietly to himself.
Everyone feared her, but were also equally impressed by her, so it was generally the opinion of those who were asked that they should remove her from the planet as soon as was feasible.
So she was chosen for all sorts of difficult and dangerous training missions to speed up the process. They tossed her from airplanes, dipped her in freezing water, spun her in circles at incredible speeds. Each and every test seemed to have absolutely no effect on her, either mentally or physically, at all.
"I hate all of you," she would say to the poor soul whose task was to fetch her from a drop zone, fish her from the water, or take her from the centripetal force vehicle.
And she meant it.
For months this went on. The Angry Astronaut was put through indescribable difficulty. Pokes, prods, jabs, pills, diets, suppositories, duress, sleep deprivation, drugged sleep encouragement, sensory inducement, sensory deprivation, observation, embarrassment, brainwashing, braindrying, brainfolding. Essentially she was pushed to the edge of reasonable existence and then thrown off.
At which point, much to the surprise of not that many, she stood there past the edge. Glaring.
A small ceremony was given. She received an award and medal for "Greatest Astronaut Ever" and she promptly threw her plaque and medal at the attendees of which there were very few but who, anticipating this, had brought cafeteria trays. She stomped off as the Astronaut Marching Band played Pomp and Circumstances.
Mostly this was ignored (or at least not spoken of). But one man, an older professor who had seen a lot of young astronauts come through the program and leave better people--or at least people better at being flung into outer space--reached out his hand in respect, tutelage, and affection to her. He was later found in a hallway, sitting on the floor with a black eye and sobbing quietly to himself.
Everyone feared her, but were also equally impressed by her, so it was generally the opinion of those who were asked that they should remove her from the planet as soon as was feasible.
So she was chosen for all sorts of difficult and dangerous training missions to speed up the process. They tossed her from airplanes, dipped her in freezing water, spun her in circles at incredible speeds. Each and every test seemed to have absolutely no effect on her, either mentally or physically, at all.
"I hate all of you," she would say to the poor soul whose task was to fetch her from a drop zone, fish her from the water, or take her from the centripetal force vehicle.
And she meant it.
For months this went on. The Angry Astronaut was put through indescribable difficulty. Pokes, prods, jabs, pills, diets, suppositories, duress, sleep deprivation, drugged sleep encouragement, sensory inducement, sensory deprivation, observation, embarrassment, brainwashing, braindrying, brainfolding. Essentially she was pushed to the edge of reasonable existence and then thrown off.
At which point, much to the surprise of not that many, she stood there past the edge. Glaring.
A small ceremony was given. She received an award and medal for "Greatest Astronaut Ever" and she promptly threw her plaque and medal at the attendees of which there were very few but who, anticipating this, had brought cafeteria trays. She stomped off as the Astronaut Marching Band played Pomp and Circumstances.
