As dove stepped into the stasis tube the second time, he heard the now familiar Pshh of gas being released into the tube, and was out in a heartbeat.
"Establishing link." An operator called out to the team of scientists. "Roger that, connecting link with clone." the answer came back. "And consciousness in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. We have a successful link."
Dove woke up. He was laying on a bare bunk with urban camoflague combat fatigues on. On the floor next to the bunk there was a pile of body armour. It was regular combat armour, not the experimental full-suit armour that he had been weaaring at Hell's peak. There was a chestpiece, two greaves, two upper greaves, two wrist-guars, two arm-guards, boots and gloves. And lying on top of it all, there was a helmet, with a full face covering design, but nowhere near his old one. Dove strapped the armour on, before taking a good look at the helmet. The helmet had a metal sheet in a V-shape going from the chin to the tip of the nose, with the ends of the arms curving around where the chin was meant to go all the way up the cheeks, and the tip of the V was meant to touch the nose. The scalp of the helmet was the standard SALS (Space Air Land Sea) design with a semicircle of metal running down behind the scalp. Standing out black on the urban camo was the name: DOVE.
As Dove lifted the helmet off the ground, a pair of goggles fell out of them. It was at this moment that Dove realised that he hadn't been wearing his glasses for the last seven months. His eyes were fixed. Dove put the goggles on, and the familiar display of information his old helmet's visor had appeared before his eyes. Dove put the helmet on, and he was Sergeant Dove all over again.
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Simulation! (Complete)
Science FictionWhen George is refused entry into the Feyanne Army as a tank operator, he wakes up in a strange environment where it's kill or be killed, divided into two teams. Highest rank: #67 in sci-fi Current rank: floating around between 85 and 400 in sci-fi
