Boneyard Dog

It’s odd the way some things work out. You expect to wake up dead, and instead, you wake up to the beautiful face of your wife. I was understandably confused. I had died…or at least I sure as heck thought I had. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’ve been alive for a number of years now, and to be honest…I’m quite fond of it. I just didn’t understand "how" I was alive. My name is Fleet Admiral Jeremy Riker…but my friends call me Dog. This is my story.

Did you ever wake up wondering where you were…and perhaps equally important, how you got there? Yeah, me too. The only the thing is, it usually happens when I've been drinking…and I'd been dry for the better part of two years. I'm Commodore Jeremy David Riker…my friends call me JD or just plain “Dog.” I have the dubious honor of running a starship boneyard in the middle of nowhere. 

You know, there are some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed. This was one of those days. My head hurt. There was blood everywhere. My ship was shot full of holes and leaking more gases and fluids than a 1976 Chevy Vega...the one with an aluminum block. I should have just pulled the sheets up and rolled over when I had the chance.... 

It’s odd the way some things work out. You expect to wake up dead, and instead, you wake up to the beautiful face of your wife. I was confused. I had died...or at least I sure as heck thought I had. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’ve been alive for a number of years now and to be honest...I’m quite fond of it. I just didn’t understand "how" I was alive. My name is Fleet Admiral Jeremy Riker...but my friends call me Dog. This is the rest of my story.