Finished another chapter

Cutting_room_floor.md

@@ -34,7 +34,7 @@ no expectations, no comments. Had the rest had been like this things
 would have been considerably easier.
 
 The Gerbil was already striding through the dark server room towards the
-(aptly named, he mused) restroom for his usual *embarrassing medical
+(aptly named, he mused) restroom for his usual* embarrassing medical
 issue* when one of the many pointless IP phones in the great hall rang.
 He picked up and said nothing because he still thinks it's really funny.
 
@@ -74,8 +74,8 @@ engraved in his sorry psyche as the aroma of despair and stupid.
 
 He strode towards the squadron as the jobnics were already pouring in
 with their little backpacks and single Airpods talking enthusiastically
-to their friends about the *crazy* party last night, praying to no one
-in particular that none of *them* show up. None of the bastards did --
+to their friends about the* crazy* party* *last night, praying to no one
+in particular that none of* them *show up. None of the bastards did --
 likely too busy parking and shaving and whatever it is they do - and he
 stepped into the first squadron's soothing, people free inner courtyard
 and towards the Trainer's door, where Tavor awaited him next to the
@@ -89,7 +89,7 @@ and frowned. 'You look pretty tired'.
 'Do you want a Mud Coffee, maybe? Was just making one for myself'.
 
 Sitting down for Mud Coffee with a pilot was every self respecting Air
-Force soldier's *dream*, man, but the Gerbil had an appointment with a
+Force soldier's* dream*, man, but the Gerbil had an appointment with a
 smelly beanbag, and he meant to honor it. It was his highest duty as a
 jobnic, a rebel, and an irritable ass. Even though they have those nice,
 tall coffee glasses here\...
@@ -103,12 +103,11 @@ Tavor took his phone from the phone shelf and strode away with purpose.
 
 Adir kind of liked Mike Tavor. He still treats him as human.
 
-He casually hid his phone in his pajama pockets (with a loud
-*ccccrrrrk!* from the scotch pockets), entered the code on the numpad
-and stepped inside. He didn't need the phone -- in fact, it was a
-hindrance -- but it was a matter of principle, like most other matters
-in the Gerbil's life right now. This is his domain and he answers to
-none.
+He casually hid his phone in his pajama pockets (with a loud*
+ccccrrrrk!* from the scotch pockets), entered the code on the numpad and
+stepped inside. He didn't need the phone -- in fact, it was a hindrance
+-- but it was a matter of principle, like most other matters in the
+Gerbil's life right now. This is his domain and he answers to none.
 
 The Trainer room was blessedly dark -- even the blinds into the
 courtyard were shut. The only light was the big digital clock, filling
@@ -117,10 +116,10 @@ moments before the instructors arrive.
 
 He entered the small side room and did the whole usual nonsense --
 flipped only some of the switches in that specific order, closed the
-hatch, put the AC on the thingy, made the three beeps, waited for the
-*Vrrrrruuuhhhhh!* to start up and the *Hhhhhuuurrrrrv* that died down
-and crouched his way back to the main room, where the eight big screens
-slowly lit up and started complaining.
+hatch, put the AC on the thingy, made the three beeps, waited for the*
+Vrrrrruuuhhhhh!* to start up and the* Hhhhhuuurrrrrv* that died down*
+*and crouched his way back to the main room, where the eight big screens
+slowly lit up and started complaining.* *
 
 *You and me both*, he thought. Both stupid old things.
 
@@ -129,8 +128,8 @@ seconds of booting up, and five hundred and forty seconds of him staring
 at it. He then clicked on the thing and waited for it to start up --
 thirty seconds of starting the program and three hundred seconds of
 staring at it. Add about thirty scattered seconds of taking out his
-phone, checking the time, sighing grumpily and putting it back with a
-*ccccrrrrk!* Because he still could, dammit. Just as he pressed the
+phone, checking the time, sighing grumpily and putting it back with a*
+ccccrrrrk! *Because he still could, dammit. Just as he pressed the
 gamepad (they paid millions for this! how?!) to confirm the thing works,
 today's two instructors walked in.
 
@@ -411,7 +410,7 @@ there was no sound.
 Adir deducted something was amiss using his superb emotional
 intelligence.
 
-'**WHO**', the man bellowed, '**IN THE** ***FUCK,*** **LET HIM OUT LIKE
+'**WHO**', the man bellowed, '**IN THE *****FUCK, *****LET HIM OUT LIKE
 THIS?!**'
 
 In the background, people started scurrying. A hand reeled him back in
@@ -528,11 +527,11 @@ soldiers from Adir's department scattering randomly in every direction.
 
 'What do you mean you're not running!?' roared Henesee, loud enough to
 slow the scattering around them, if momentarily. 'I am your *Department
-Commander!,* and as your ***Department Commander!** I demand that*
--**'**
+Commander!, *and as your ***Department Commander! **I demand that
+*-**'**
 
-'*How are we still having this conversation??'* Adir shouted back at the
-top of his lungs. *'I could have gotten there **TEN TIMES** by now!'*
+'*How are we still having this conversation??' *Adir shouted back at the
+top of his lungs. *'I could have gotten there **TEN TIMES **by now!'*
 
 '*IF I TELL YOU TO GO THAT WAY, THEN -'*
 
@@ -589,7 +588,7 @@ prepared in the event of war'.
 man but he just won't take a hint. What did you tell him?'
 
 'Look, we've been over this. I will not keep 'undergarments' here. I
-will *never* keep 'undergarments' here. Not for two weeks, not for two
+will* never* keep 'undergarments' here.* *Not for two weeks, not for two
 hours!'
 
 'Not even for the war?' asked Ronen with an air of triumph
@@ -801,7 +800,7 @@ happens every single day'
 
 'You know,' admitted Gilad, 'It's true.'
 
-'A real *Computanovella*', said Yoav
+'A real* Computanovella*', said Yoav
 
 *'*Shut u- no, wait. That's actually brilliant', said Gilad.
 '*Computanovella, chapter 3253: Opal configures the squadron's emails*'
@@ -837,7 +836,7 @@ them.
 
 'Me?! How dare you! While you loiter an-'
 
-'*Loiter!?* You come waltzing in from headquarters and think you know it
+'*Loiter!? *You come waltzing in from headquarters and think you know it
 all? Can't you see we're discussing strategy?'
 
 '*Out in the open?*' the officer demanded. 'That's against information
@@ -1314,7 +1313,7 @@ the exchange is taking so long.
 'Since September'
 
 'You're telling me', he said, furious, 'You've been here since
-*September* and you don't know your commander, soldier?'
+*September *and you don't know your commander, soldier?'
 
 'Let me go somewhere in peace.'
 
@@ -1578,7 +1577,7 @@ Tamar broke the drawn out silence.
 
 'Adir, I find this highly unlikely.'
 
-'I know you do. I do as well. But take a *good look* at me -- do you
+'I know you do. I do as well. But take a *good look *at me -- do you
 think I had that beard approved? Can you see I bear no rank? Please, be
 my guest -- let's go down to the pit right now and see if anyone
 recognizes me at all.'