For as long as he could remember, Gallager was always in awe with planet hopping. He was only 5 years old the first time he saw a hopper launch and it was the most glorious event he had ever witnessed. The next decade of his life he spent pouring over every article, periodical, and book he could acquire on the topic of planet hopping. As soon as he became of age, he applied. And applied. And applied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry son\u201d the administrators would always start. \u201cYou don\u2019t meet the criteria. We require all applicants to be in perfect health, and you do not fit the definition.\u201d they would finish flatly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He would always argue the point that there was absolutely nothing wrong with his health and nothing would ever interfere with his ability to perform his required responsibilities and then proceed to list off his astounding accomplishments that the average individual of his young age would fail to achieve a quarter of.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They always cited the rule that any individual with any artificial appendages would need to be certified at a level 5 cybernetic system or higher to be considered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He would then thank them for being inconsiderate shitbags while slinking away feeling defeated once again. Forty-Two times he attempted and forty-two times he was rejected.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m nothing, if not persistent.<\/em> He was in line for attempt number Forty-Three and he really felt he had it \u201cin the bag\u201d. This day appeared to have twice as many applicants as usual and felt very crowded to Gallager. He estimated he would be waiting several hours for his turn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Waiting sucks.<\/em><\/p>\n\n