[Panda]

Voyage Home
(click here for the planning thread)
~~~

Sometimes, if you found the right place, it was almost possible to forget for a moment that there was a war going on. Many of the halls of the battleship Avenir Assombri were wide, empty, and spotlessly white. There was nothing in them to indicate the tumult outside except for the occasional long shudder and the thud of hurried footsteps running up and down adjacent corridors. The contrast between these quiet places and the busy noise of the rest of the ship, between the orderly paneled walls and the wreckage that might be found behind sealed doors at the end of the very same hallway, was just absurd.

In one such hallway, a door suddenly opened. The ship's captain, Simona Rissen, stepped out of the war room alone with a grim look. A monitor shut off behind her. She closed her eyes, replaced her captain's hat onto her head, and stood there in thought as the door shut behind her. She gave herself a minute to think while there was still silence to think in, and when the minute was up, she opened her eyes and walked resolutely down the hallway and back into the fray. That was all the time she needed to consider the orders she had just been given.

As she reached the corner a number of uniformed men and women rushed by with repair equipment in tow. She continued on past other groups of occupied personnel, navigating the labyrinth of corridors as if she had been walking them her entire life. Finally she reached her destination.

When Captain Rissen entered the bridge, the personnel seated at numerous blinking monitors went deafeningly silent, staring at her expectantly. She returned to her own seat without a word and gazed at the status screens before her.

"Ma'am... our orders...?" murmured a communications officer. They were tense; the captain had gone to receive their mission privately instead of accepting it on the bridge as she always had before. There had been brief speculation as to what they would be doing now, but no one quite expected what she now announced.

"Call all fighters to return to the ship," the captain answered. "...we're going home."

[Dain]

"I thought I told him I didn't like cake,” said a man sitting in a swivel chair, glaring at a small slice of plain cake. He had found the dessert outside his quarters earlier with a small handwritten note reading “Happy birthday, Dain” attached, decorated with a single smiley face. Though left anonymously, Dain knew it could not have been from anyone other than a certain timid private named Winston, who at times acted more like a stalker than a friend.

Dain turned his attention away from the cake and glanced over the the holographic clipboard he never left out of arm's reach. He expected Captain Rissen's private briefing was just about over and anticipated an announcement was about to be made that would require his attendance. With a few waves of his hand, images of close-by solar systems, data of the Asurian fleets and current statistics of the Avenir Assombri began projecting themselves from the holoclip in hand.

“I best get to work,” he muttered to himself, raising himself from his chair and heading over to the door of his quarters, still giving a vast amount of his attention to the holoclip. The door opened and Dain made his way down the long hallway, headed towards the bridge.

This post has been edited by Dain: May 23, 2010 - 6:05 PM

[Panda]

Everyone stared at the captain in disbelief. It was well-known among the combatants that the colonies' forces were dwindling now, that despite an initial advantage they had suffered large losses, unlike the extremely close-knit Asurians. There were many who would have agreed that a retreat was the best move for the colonial fleet to make, but it seemed unlikely that anyone at the top would approve it. The captain’s statement, simple and resolved, completely contradicted all the propaganda that had led up to and permeated through the war. That the colonists were seeking justice, only what they were owed, that they were not going to put up with being toyed with by an antiquated race who often acted without explanation, as if they ruled the universe. "There's no going home until we find justice." One of the many key slogans that the colonial administration had latched on to and repeated in broadcasts again and again. No going home without proving their strength. Above all, no surrender.

And yet Captain Rissen seemed to have announced something that could only be interpreted as running away. The bridge personnel cast worried glances at each other. Traditionally, deserting a battle was considered treason. You couldn't just up and go home; leaving to save your lives would mean having to start new ones elsewhere.

"This isn't a retreat," she continued, leaning forward in her chair. "We've been given a mission to deliver an important cargo back to the colonies. Something that mustn't be lost or intercepted. You are all aware of our ship's condition. We cannot be of any more use in this battle. But we do stand a good chance of slipping away unnoticed by the enemy. All incoming and outgoing transmissions are to be blocked--we need to go as silent as we can. Call all relevant officers to the bridge. ...the longer we take the more our success is put in jeopardy. What are you waiting for?"

Their unspoken questions answered for now, the bridge crew returned to work. Within a few minutes, several personnel arrived on the bridge to receive orders and coordinate the move.

"Dain," the captain said when she saw the navigator come in, "Prepare a route back to the colonies. I'm sure you're aware of the condition of the ship already?"

As the final officers filed in, Captain Rissen signaled for the communications officers to put her on the ship-wide intercom to make the announcement official.

-----

A few moments later her voice rang clear across the ship:

"We have received new orders. Prepare for departure in one hour. Any non-essential personnel who can pick up a wrench are to report to the engine room and see if the mechanics have a use for them. Everyone else is to find another way to help out or just get some rest. Our priority is to get this ship back in working order. We're going home."

This post has been edited by Panda: May 31, 2010 - 9:08 PM

[Val]

All was tense in the kitchen of the Avenir Assombri. It was common knowledge that Captain Rissen was currently receiving private orders from the top dogs at this moment and that it was only a matter of time before an official announcement was to be made.

In the kitchen, nine of the eleven kitchen staff had gathered to wait for Captain Rissen's official announcement. Most of the staff only saw each other on these special occasions due to the hours they work, the kitchen being open 24 hours a day meant there needed to be three or four people on at all times. The two absentees were a slacker named Ritz, which was no surprise as he was rarely seen even when he was supposed to be on shift, and Jolly--the Head Chef himself.

The Head Chef's real name was long and complicated and no one really cared much for him to even bother trying to pronounce it. Everyone, including Captain Rissen, either call him Head Chef or the nickname Jolly--probably named as such because whenever he got angry his face turned bright red and he forced a giant grin onto his face.

As Sous-Chef, Maxxie was in charge during Jolly's absence--he was probably lurking around the bridge somewhere trying to look important or something. Maxxie looked around the room anxiously, waiting for the official announcement. He shot a stern look over at Spence, who seemed to be subconsciously about to light a cigarette. Spence looked at Maxxie and could see the disapproval in his eyes and then realised what he was about to do; quickly he shoved the cigarette and lighter into his pocket. Maxxie then gave a glance or two over Jayda standing opposite him. He would have loves to ask her out if he wasn't so terrified of her beating him up.

Suddenly, a brief moment of static could be heard coming from the ceiling-mounted speakers. All nine of the kitchen staff present immediately looked upwards at the speakers, their bodies becoming more tense and after a moment that seemed like hours, the silence was broken.

"We have received new orders. Prepare for departure in one hour. Any non-essential personnel who can pick up a wrench are to report to the engine room and see if the mechanics have a use for them. Everyone else is to find another way to help out or just get some rest. Our priority is to get this ship back in working order. We're going home."

A few moments passed while the message sunk in. “Home?” Jayda said finally, “We're going...” Then suddenly they all began to cheer with beaming smiles and hug who ever was close enough. Grey watched as the rest celebrated... he wasn't one for hugs.

“Alright guys!” said Maxxie, finding an opportunity to speak through the cheering. “You heard the order, the kitchen is closed for now, go make yourselves useful!” he said smiling. He turned and started walking towards the door, holding up an arm to say goodbye. “I'll see you guys later, I'm going for a nap.” With that he left.

[Dain]

Dain finally entered the bridge, and by the look on the faces of those already present, it seemed the Captain had already revealed what she had planned to do. “I guess my suspicions were correct: we will be heading back to the colonies.” Dain had already begun plotting a route home and was almost finished with it.

He had only been on the bridge just a moment and already he could see that the Captain had him in her sights. “ Troublesome woman,” Dain thought to himself, “You are about to order me to do a task I have already almost completed, are you not?”

"Dain,” Captain Rissen said, “Prepare a route back to the colonies. I'm sure you're aware of the condition of the ship already?" The order finally came, as expected. Dain simply gave the lady a nod and continued plotting the course home, not wishing to call the Captain out on how predictable she was at this time.

Dain made his way to the back of the room, where the other two (pretty useless) navigators were located, Claire and “damn, I can never remember the other one's name.” He offered them both a nod as he approached and leaned against the wall beside them. The route was practically complete, taking the ship's current statistical condition into consideration; just a few more touches and he would run them by the captain for approval. He stopped for a moment to listen to the official announcement. He already knew exactly what was going on, but he could not help but look away from his holoclip and listen.

"We have received new orders. Prepare for departure in one hour. Any non-essential personnel who can pick up a wrench are to report to the engine room and see if the mechanics have a use for them. Everyone else is to find another way to help out or just get some rest. Our priority is to get this ship back in working order. We're going home."

Dain smiled slightly, but only for a brief moment so no one would see. “We really are going home, ha... there will be hell if they think I will be going to the engine room after the course I plotted has been approved.”

[Vchan]

As the announcement ended, the others in the hangar started to move again out of their frozen and slightly surprised states. A few of them smiled and patted each other on the back. They were going home...that had such a nice ring to it.

Alan stood up from his crouched position on the ground as orders started to be called to clear the hangar so the fighter planes could land. Damaged ships that were in there for repair were moved aside and the crew started to hustle about, preparing to guide the pilots back in. Still in slight shock, Alan stared at the commotion that had sprung to life in a matter of seconds and people yelled orders back and forth.

"Wiser," one of the mechanics came over and put a hand on his shoulder, "we have plenty of hands here. Go see if you can help in the Engine room, 'kay? Hurry."

Alan nodded, his mind finally starting up again as he started jogging toward the exit as several others who didn't need to be in the hangar made their way out. He would rather be there when the pilots came back in, after all the fighter planes were his specialty, but they needed to get the ship going and out. They would probably be working on the fighter planes later if necessary.

They entered into the engine room after winding through several hallways, task being given out and directed and general eagerness from those willing to help. Everyone wanted to get home as soon as possible and they would help to make the time to do that shorter. Alan was no exception. Maybe when they got back he could start his training as a fighter plane pilot and finally get on with his life as he wanted it.

This post has been edited by Vchan: Jun 3, 2010 - 11:55 AM

[Vchan]

"All fighter planes belonging to the Avenir Assombri return back to the hangar as soon as you can. I repeat, all fighter planes of the Avenir Assombri, return back to the ship."

After that transmission, Lei cut off all lines to fighter planes since no transmission were to be allowed ingoing or outgoing. She sighed as she took on other tasks given to her on her screen in front of her. She already knew everyone was excited about all of this. After all, everyone wanted to return home where they were far from the destruction of war, but Lei only had one thing on her mind.

Would they be greeted back home warmly or with hostility and shame? Even if this wasn't a retreat, would the media perceive it that way?

As the fighter planes started to land back in and the crew on the ship was on full throttle, Lei glanced around at the other communication officer faces. For some, they had slightly grim faces, probably having the same thought as herself. They were also probably wondering what exactly was this important cargo they had to take back. Lei flexed her fingers before continuing her work. Soon enough, the ship's transmissions were completely closed and all the fighter planes were back in. All that was left was the ship to start moving toward home.

[Bewoulf]

Tobias was mid chew on his blueberry pancakes during the Captain's announcement. Home? He can't be going home yet! He still needs to take a piece out of these Asurian bastards. After the conclusion of the announcement, Tobias glanced back at his data pad containing the condition of the ship, and his new duties being issued. "The Cap'n is crazy." he mumbled slightly to himself. One of his fellow engineers leaned close to him. "What?" Tobias looked back at his co-worker. "Nothin'. We need to get to the engine room. Looks like the Cap'n is goin' to be demanding more from us." Tobias stood up and grabbed his tray. Blueberry pancakes... his favorite breakfast since he was a kid. He felt a little disappointed that he wasn't able to finish them. Maxxie always made them just like when he was a kid. Tobias dropped his tray off at a disposal unit and gave a smile and a nod to Maxxie. Tobias always tried to maintain a good friendship with the cook staff. After all, they made his meals.

Tobias stepped into the hallway, greeted by the chaos of the various crew members getting to their posts. Tobias gritted his teeth as he noticed most people were grinning. Of course Tobias wanted to go home. But he wanted the Asurian's to pay first. Right now, he felt like they were tucking tail and running. Tobias arrived at the engine room to several officers issuing orders. He bumped into Alan Wiser. "Hey, Alan, not down with the birds?" Alan quickly nodded and scuttled off to see where he could help. Tobias liked Alan, but always felt like he was never where he wanted to be at.

Tobias stood in front of his team. "Alright, Listen up. The Cap'n wants the forward batteries up to 70% efficiency. They are currently at 42%. Rear batteries, the Cap'n wants operational in 8 hours." His engineering team glanced at each other, all understanding the insane requests. Tobias was right there with them. But he was in charge of the team, he couldn't question the Captain's orders. He liked his job... most of the time. "Jesimae, git goin' on a mode tune of the forward batteries. That ought to bump the efficiency up another 6% in an hour. Just watch your diode balance." Tobias glanced back at his holoclip. "As for the rear batteries... we're going to have to replace the entire enclosure." One of his crew spoke up, "In 8 hours? I don't see how- -" Tobias cut him off. "Well, it looks like we have our work cut out for us, don't it? Fact o'the matter is, we need these laser batteries operational in case those Asurian's decide they want to chase us. We can't survive another fight like that last one. Git to work, I don't wanna hear it." The engineering crew split up and Tobias followed Jesimae to help with the tune on the lasers. At that moment, Tobias was determined to get those lasers working. He also hoped the Asurians would chase them.

This post has been edited by Bewoulf: Jun 6, 2010 - 7:43 PM

[Panda]

Red lights flashed and alarms blared as a large steel barrier descended and various workers rushed to get on the other side of it. A final straggler lugging a toolbox dove beneath it just in time before it clamped down on the floor, sealing off the room they had just been in. It had been fine until someone had misread a gauge, and it had all spiraled downhill from there until the environmental control system kicked in thanks to too many overheated components, throwing the small group into a panic. A swarm of curses replaced the now-silent alarms, and instead of the twirling crimson alert lights, a red-faced man turned on them. He glanced over the men and women panting in the hallway. All of the crew he’d been working with were accounted for.

“Get up!!!” shouted the bald man, Eric Murphy. Head of maintenance and engineering, he was smaller and older than most people expected when they first heard his overpowering voice, but still big and skilled enough that his wrath was no small threat. As he shouted he keyed in an override code on a panel on the barrier, hardly willing to wait for the interior of the room to cool down. Damn safety protocols were too sensitive these days. “And stop sabotaging my ship or I’ll toss you all off it!!” he added.

It was what he always called their handiwork, no matter how close they came to being experts: sabotage. He had always been upset at the number of trainees who had been assigned to maintenance and repair duties though they had no experience at all. The people Up There had clearly never replaced so much as the simplest of power cells before, and even the captain (bless her heart, anyone who could pick up a wrench? Really? Somebody was bound to break something or get hurt, and they were more in the way than anything) sometimes appalled him in her lack of understanding, though she at least tried. Really they were the ones responsible for the “sabotage.” Though there were a number of more experienced technicians among them, he hadn’t thought it would be enough to make up for the number of new recruits that had to be trained from the ground up. It was hard to pick up the dead weight and look after them. Still, Murphy and his older crew had worked a miracle to get the newbies freshly pulled in by propaganda and war fever as well-trained as they were now. The most skillful among the engineers had each been assigned a team to direct, and under their direction, slowly but surely the newbies among them had shaped up. They could handle day-to-day repairs smoothly by the time they had arrived at their first battle. And now, so many critical problems at once? If they managed to fix them all it would be by the skin of their teeth.

Maybe he was being pessimistic. The team leaders were, for the most part, exceptionally capable. He had to admit that they could hold their own. Murphy himself was hardly needed anymore. To tell the truth his position as the head of engineering was more of a matter of age than anything else nowadays. Here he was bossing around some of Rissen’s “anyone who can pick up a wrench” (damn her, bless her little heart again but damn her!!! how much did she think a wrench could do!) volunteers, trying to bring a minor thruster back online, while his team leaders took care of more prioritized work elsewhere, repairing the laser batteries and optimizing the main engines. Of course this was a sign that he trusted them to do what needed to be done, to keep the ship’s lifelines intact. Lord only knew who was doing what, there was so much work to complete, but it’d get done somehow. Usually he made it a habit to continuously underestimate his staff and watched their repair work for mistakes like a hawk. It was how he kept himself from feeling too secure and slacking off, and hopefully would keep everyone else working harder—going over all the things that could go wrong and assuming that they would, starting with the human part of the equation. Some people (very uninformed people, in his opinion) said that fighter pilots and artillery operators were responsible for success on the battlefield, but for Murphy, the front lines were in the engine room and the battle most certainly did not end after the final shots had been fired. It continued on indefinitely until the ship was functioning perfectly, at 100%, without any problems, and that was never.

The barrier in front of Murphy rose, allowing him access back into the chamber. A blast of heat puffed out. The damage had been worse than he expected; it was a good thing they’d all managed to get out. But he’d be damned if he let the word “irreversible” creep its way in.

Right now the human error responsible for this catastrophe—no matter how minor the component he would not forgive undue damage to any ship he was stationed on—was attempting to follow him back into the room with everyone else, waving her hands in front of herself to disperse the immediate heat. Technically she wasn’t a volunteer who knew nothing. She had the basic background knowledge for the job. But she rarely responded verbally and didn’t know how to apply herself. She didn’t ask questions when questions needed to be asked. She was a tinkerer who spent too much time in her own thoughts. She didn’t realize that you had better learn everything Eric Murphy has to teach you before you even begin to think about tinkering. And that was why she pissed him off.

“You,” said Murphy sternly, looking back at her, “I don’t need you here. Go away.”

The girl stared at him from behind her fogged-up glasses. The cooling system worked its magic and diffused the thick hot air. Then she turned and left just as ordered without a word.

-----

The shuddering and shaking throughout the ship gradually lessened as they maneuvered behind the lines of other colony spacecraft, toward the outer edge of the battlefield. When the bridge received confirmation that all fighter ships had returned to the hangar, Captain Rissen turned to Dain for the completed navigation route.

“Let’s move out.”

Once again the bridge burst into activity, and the Avenir began to creep away.

[Asura]

“And just another few stitches. You might feel a little prick…” Sure enough there was a short shout of pain. “There! All fixed up.”

His patient, a dark-haired man in a flight suit, had been brought in nearly unconscious, with a massive gash across his forehead from when he hit the control panel. It was remarkable that he had woken up as fast as he did, and even more surprising that he was already getting up to leave. “Thanks, Doc.” He said simply, standing and stretching out his arms and legs, gingerly touching the bandage on his head. “I’ll remember that if I ever get hurt again…” he began, stopping as he turned to the doctor with a grin, “that I should just go to the Asurians.”

This got a small laugh out of the doctor, who replied, “Oh? Well go for it then! I hear they’ve just learned that bleeding is the number one cure in this modern day!” They both got a laugh out of that.

“I’ll leave you to it then, Doc. I know how busy you are.” He gave a smile and a short nod before leaving for his quarters. There were surprisingly few occupants in the Medlab, the majority of which were being treated for broken bones and scrapes from the shaking during the battle. Terran himself was one of the only ones being treated for open wounds, and that was mostly because he had just barely managed to land his dying fighter.

He had been just about to fire the entirety of his ship’s payload into the very heart of the enemy’s battleship, when the unthinkable happened. Counting down from five as he came in range, it seemed far too well timed as a sudden explosion sent his ship tumbling over itself, just as the computers fired every rocket and beam he carried. Twin lances of ionized plasma barely grazed an enemy fighter while rockets lost their targets and spun wildly out of control, several impacting the Avenir just above her engines.

His ship was by now leaking fuel and air at an alarming rate, yet somehow he had managed to keep calm. A gentle feathering of the throttle here, a manipulation of the gravimetric systems there. In a matter of a few minutes he had brought the husk of the former fighter into some semblance of control, at least enough to point himself in the direction of the ship’s hangar.

Landing gears buckled as he made contact with the hangar floor, and his ship somersaulted over itself once before being seized in a heavy net. Automated fire suppression systems flared to life, covering the metal shell with thick gray foam. That was the point at which he had lost consciousness. He didn’t quite know who pulled him out of the wreck, but he was sure he owed them a drink…

Hell… He was really wishing for a drink himself.

[Dain]

“Ah, she is looking at me,” thought Dain as he noticed the captain staring at him through impatient eyes, “I suppose this means she is finally ready for me.” He began to approach the captain from the back of the room, coming to a halt by Rissen's side.

“I will keep this brief,” he finally spoke. “I will spare you all the jargon so everyone can follow. As every competent person in the room should be aware, the Avenir Assombri is uncomfortably close to being in critical condition. If we were to encounter an Asurian vessel, chances aside, statistics say we will die.”

He paused for a moment while operating his holoclip, and a 3D display of the surrounding solar systems burst out of the device. Many in the room were quite surprised by how large and clear the image was compared to the standard-issue holoclips. “The Avenir Assombri is here.” He pointed to a speck on the display. “And now, this is the fun part, the line you are about to see will be the course we will be taking.” And with that a red line began to extend from the speck Dain had pointed out. Most watched bemusedly as the line scrolled across the image, bobbing through the field of stars and interstellar gas clouds, until it came to a halt at what could clearly be made out as the colonies-- Home.

“A bit of a round-about way of doing things, no?” One of the bridge crew spoke up, crossing his arms as he gave a wary glance to the navigator. “We are already going slow enough as it is without pissing about.”

“The course I have plotted will take us the safest route away from the battle,” Dain said matter-of-factly, not even looking to the one who spoke out as he brought a few bubbles of colour onto the map. “I have looked into where the 'hot spots' are, the areas where this battle is most intense, as well as where there have been any sightings of Asurian ships. A path directly home would take us far too close to these two battle zones.” He pointed to two red blobs on the map. “Let alone the Vaar-Si Rift.” Another blob of colour was brought to the screen, this one a translucent green-blue. “Without a sustainable warp field, or at the very least full shields, there is no way to survive in there. The fields would tear the ship apart before we got so much as a foot in.”

“With this course, rather than going straight home, we will take a bit of a detour as to avoid being completely destroyed, whether by the environment or Asurian ambush.” With that, he turned to face Captain Rissen once more. “This route has already been sent the Avenir Assombri helmsmen via Nehalem; they await your approval.”

[Val]

“Perfect, things are going to plan.” A large, tanned man began to laugh to himself after hearing the Captains announcement. He was in the Avenir Assombri's holding cell, sitting on a bench that was attached to the wall, wearing oddly-fashioned handcuffs.

“And what are you laughing at, scum?” shouted the holding cell's warden, banging on the bars of the cell. “Do you find something funny? Oh, there's no use asking a dumb [expletive] like you what goes on in your head... you can't even understand simple English!” The warden sneered and went back to his desk to read a magazine that was published about a year ago.

The imprisoned man just stared at the warden. “Scum? dumb [expletive]? You haven't even realised that the door has been unlocked this whole time; I could kill you so easily but I must endure this ridicule until my mission is complete." He stood up and began to pace around the room. "You would know my name if you read the I.D. you confiscated when I came aboard. It's Kimber, you fool." He sighed to himself; he couldn't wait to finish his mission and get back home.

He stood before the bars and glared at the Warden, who seemed to be ready to start nodding off. Kimber looked towards the speakers.

“Soon...”

He smiled.

[Vchan]

Alan cracked his knuckles as he made his way down the corridor back to the hangar, one of the many non-regular engineers slowly trickling back to their normal stations and assignments. He was ready to see the fighter planes again and their conditions. Eight had been functional, Five were in repair, and the others were beyond repair last time he had checked. He hoped they hadn't lost any of planes this time (or anymore pilots). It was sad to look at a twisted up piece of metal that had looked so powerful before. The task of salvaging parts made it even worse--like stealing from a dead man's pockets.

Alan moved further to the side, keeping his eyes to the ground as others passed by him, laughing obnoxiously at some joke one of them just told.

A few minutes later, he arrived into the hangar. Everyone seemed generally relaxed, not hurried to get anything done with the fighter planes. A few groups talked about the excitement of finally heading home and what they were so looking forward to--family, friends, a nice place to rest their heads without the constantly known presence of a seemingly unending war. Alan thought about his own home and was skeptical about heading back there, but he wasn't sure why.

Alan eased his way over to a group of five younger guys like him, all of them smiling about whatever topic that they were speaking about and sitting on crates and tool boxes. Alan cleared his throat getting their attentions as he asked them about the fighter ships. They looked at him wearily and explained to him that three came back pretty bad--especially "that Morroth guy's" ship--and that meant only five now we're alright to use. They also told him all three pilots made it out alright by pure luck. After they explained it, Alan tried to get into the conversation, but the group kept dismissing what he said or disagreeing with him. He could see on their faces that they were annoyed with him so he finally told them he'd see them later and walked off.

Alan made his way to where the damaged fighter planes were as he winced at what had happened to the three new obsolete. The other mechanics had been right, Terran Morroth's ship looked the worse. It would take a miracle to even salvage one part of the thing. The only thing that Alan knew about the guy was that he was a hell of a good pilot and he would do anything to fly like him.

Alan decided to take a more thorough look at the ship even if no one else seemed to be working. He just felt too antsy to be sitting around talking anyway and he couldn't understand how everyone else was.


-------

Lei stopped her work for a few moments to watch the course being drawn on the holoclip and listen to the navigator explain why they were taking such a roundabout trip. Even though she knew she shouldn't complain, Lei knew not only did they look like cowards turning tail and running, but now it was going to take forever to get back home. Now not only those like her who reluctant to leave because of the uncertainty of how the public would react were a bit frustrated, but the people who were ready to get home soon would be highly disappointed in having to take such a long course. She hoped this wouldn't cause any sort of hostility towards the Captain--after all it was far out her control.

Honestly, Lei couldn't even understand why they were asking the Captain to approve the course, there wasn't any other way to get home without risking the whole entire ship and crew.

Lei turned back to her screen, not waiting for the Captain to say what she needed. Might as well get her shift done with (it ended in an hour) then she would be able to find out what was happening around the ship that she hadn't already heard there and then figure out more on how to work her contacts.

This post has been edited by Vchan: Jun 27, 2010 - 1:34 PM

[Panda]

A body at rest remains at rest; a body in motion remains in motion.

Marianne Jasper's short and unremakarble life, as well as her even shorter but slightly less unremarkable military career, had been something like this, but mostly centering around the at rest part. It wasn't so much that she was lazy or a bad kid. In fact she was a pretty good kid--well, hardly a kid anymore--all things considered. Hardworking when she needed to be, never involved in anything illegal. She did what she was told and kept her mouth shut because that was what she had always done.

And that was exactly the problem. She didn't know what to do with herself, and people thought her tendency towards silence was either because her head was in the clouds (sometimes true) or because she couldn't think for herself at all (usually not true). She highly doubted she could do anything with herself because she had seen so much go wrong for the people who tried much harder than she to do something with themselves. That was life working scrapyards and the like. Even in this age there was still a place for scavengers and career part-timers, drifting from one place to the next and living on paycheck to paycheck. Usually on less. Jasper was lucky; as far as the scrappies went her family was somewhere on the top of the pile. But somewhere along the line she started to think that there wasn't much more than this, not for them.

So when she kept on working for her father at his scrapyard after finishing compulsory education, she was surprised by the sad look in his eyes whenever they worked together salvaging pieces and parts.

"You should find something better for yourself," he finally told her. "See the galaxy. Make a difference somewhere."

Or something like that. She could no longer remember exactly what his words had been. Just that what he had said had spurred her on, and she'd tried to understand what he meant by better, by difference.

Before long a concrete, fast solution stared her straight in the face. The government started a recruiting campaign for their military. Something about Asurians making trouble and justice that needed doleing out. It was, arguably, something better, where she could make a difference, and see places far and wide all at once, not to mention learn innumerable useful skills. Not exactly what her father meant, she was sure, but it was a start. So she went with it in a split second and had been riding the momentum of that decision ever since.

At least until now. Now that it seemed like it was about to be over she was wondering what she'd done wrong. She didn't feel any different, certainly not like she'd made a difference, and the shock that maybe she'd done something far too compulsive and very, very stupid was distracting her like nothing before. And now she'd just end up back home where she started. The thing about her part in this operation was that it was so impersonal. There was nothing she could do that someone else couldn't. Hell, she was still technically a trainee as far as actual, meaningful keep-everything-working maintenance went. It wasn't even her real job, which mainly consisted of making sure trash made it to the trash chutes. Another thing anyone could do.

Her first mistake had probably been saying nothing when the recruiter told her that was the job he'd sign her up for, after glimpsing over her meager work history. Riding the current silently like that was a hard habit for her to break. But at this point it was too late for all the what-ifs and could-haves.

Now convinced that she had wasted the last year, Jasper was out of sorts trying to figure out what came next. Home. It would be nice to have solid ground (well, not exactly real ground all the time but at least something more substantial) under her feet. But she didn't feel ready.

So for once when her boss, Murphy, told her quite plainly to go away (which was typical Murphy-speak for I'd better not see your face for the rest of today and perhaps not tomorrow either or we will have Problems), she didn't internally curse him for overreacting for whatever amateurish mistake she had made this time (and tried not to admit that it was by far the most amateurish, dangerous slipup she had done so far on this ship, which he wouldn't forgive her easily for). This was too hectic of a time to be lost in her thoughts, though things seemed to have calmed down since she left as ordered and found a place to mope in the mess hall. For once he was right to be insufferable. Couldn't think well with everything going on anyways.

After an hour or so, even though there hadn't been any announcement about being in the clear yet, the mess hall started to get crowded as personnel trickled in. Jasper spotted a few of the off-duty bridge crew and even a few engineers she vaguely knew. Most of the immediate damage had probably been contained by now, with mostly the more specialized work left, plus the repairs that would take time no matter how many people you had on them.

Somebody was breaking out the drinks for an impromptu celebration. What exactly they were celebrating--going home, still being alive, etc--hardly mattered.

It was about time they got a pick-up. And hopefully the momentum of it would last all the way home.

-----

“This route has already been sent the Avenir Assombri helmsmen via Nehalem; they await your approval.”

Captain Rissen went over Dain's route quickly. At this point it didn't make much of a difference but there were procedures to follow. Not that she had to follow them, particularly now, but it helped. They were the procedures for a reason, after all.

She gave Dain a brief nod when she finished and silently hoped that he would go away. He was a smart man, with a good future waiting for him. Of course, that meant that he understood the difficulties of getting back in the first place, and that was exactly what she didn't want to hear any more about right now. The infinitesimal probability that she could complete her mission as successfully as she would like to, all the little obstacles that her education and experience couldn't prepare her for but that people like him were paid to foresee days or months or years before they would actually occur.

"Right then," proclaimed Rissen, an anticipatory strike on her part before anyone else could speak. She stood up. "We stick to Dain's route; for now we seem to have gotten away without the enemy noticing but keep an eye out for any movement--any vessel approaching, whether ours or theirs, I am to be contacted either way. The engineering crew already has their priorities. If anything comes up, direct it to my quarters."

It wasn't very often that she needed to stop being Captain Rissen and be just Simona for a few minutes, but this was one of those times.

She had a feeling that it wouldn't be long before she was too busy for that.

[Val]

After trying for a while, Maxxie gave up on the idea of having a nap. People were running up and down the hallways, lights were flashing and officers shouting commands from the top of their lungs every few moments, all in preparation for the journey back home. “Does it really take this much to turn this thing round?” Maxxie thought to himself, rubbing his eyes before stretching out his arms and legs.

As he laid there, Maxxie realised he was completely naked, and though he didn't remember getting undressed, he thought nothing more of it; this happened quite often for him. He looked around his room and noticed his 'porn drawer' and with a slight shrug of his shoulders and the simple thought of ”Might as well” crossing his mind, he got out of his bed and closed his curtains before walking over to his wardrobe. He opened his 'porn drawer' to find it empty. After a moment of looking in horror into the depths of the bottomless pit that was his drawer, he took a swing at the mocking wardrobe door in his sheer anger, smashing it into many pieces like glass.

“Who stole my fu*king porn!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Quickly, he jumped into his trousers and threw on his kitchen jacket, not even bothering to button it up, before storming out of his room into the hallway. “No one has any idea how much effort it was to sneak my collection on here dammit!” he stressed. After a while of walking down the--what seemed like--endless hallway, he eventually calmed himself down and even forgot why he was angry before finding himself on the bridge. It was strange that it was completely empty, especially at a time like this.

“Where's Rissen?” he thought to himself, frowning a bit. Looking around the empty room, Maxxie thought that though there was no one beside him there, it looked undeniably smaller than usual.

He turned around and left, thinking he probably shouldn't be in there on his own. He was only a sous-chef, after all. “I should probably go help out in the kitchen,” he thought to himself. Maxxie headed towards the kitchen, and after making a miss-turn into the gym, he found himself in the mess hall, which was also completely empty.

“Where is everyone?” he said, this time out loud as there wasn't really anyone around to hear him; he could say whatever. Suddenly he heard the unmistakable sound of a frying pan. Maxxie walked up to the service counter to see who was doing the cooking; he hadn't seen a single soul since he woke up, even though they were running up and down the hallways moments before. He placed his hands on the warm glass of the counter and leaned over to try and get a better look.

“Did you not know the kitchen was closed?” said a voice. Maxxie moved his head slightly to see Dain, the Chief Navigator, stood before him holding a ladle, and wearing the same cold expression he usually wore.

“Dain?” Maxxie said, confused, “Why are you behind the counter? Where are Jayda, Spence and the others!” He didn't have a clue what was going on, and out of everyone on this vessel why did it have to be him to appear first? “Who's back there cooking?”

“Winston,” Dain said simply, “The kitchen is closed, would you mind breaking the news to the peons behind you?”

Maxxie looked at him for a moment. “The what?” he asked, but didn't receive any form of response, as Dain was no longer there. “What's going on!” he shouted in his frustration, finally turning around to see who Dain could have been talking about.

At the opposite side of the mess hall were several people sat around a table eating. Where did they get food? Maxxie thought to himself as he cautiously approached them. As he got closer, he found that he couldn't quite see them. It was like they were just blurs. He made his way towards them, walking around and even over some tables; the hall seemed to be around ten times its usual size. Maxxie couldn't see all this effort to be worth it, especially not under Dain's command. He may have been a high rank, but Maxxie could never see him as superior to himself. Having had enough of climbing over tables, he sat back onto the one he had just cleared. “Hey!” he shouted. “You're not supposed to be in here!!”

Those that were eating stopped, dropping their utensils in unison, each of their faces turned in Maxxie's direction, no longer blurred, he looked back at those that were before him. Large muscled figures, dark hair, tanned skin and aggressive expressions: they were Asurians. Maxxie threw himself backwards off the table he was on with only “What the hell!” running through his mind as the Asurians began to open fire. Maxxie flipped up the table before him to act as a shield, though the Asurians had unusually bad aim for their reputation. After a brief look, Maxxie could see there were now around fifty or more Asurians shooting at him. Maxxie pulled out a gun and returned fire, though his aim was equally as bad. He felt he had no control over where he was aiming.

Moments passed and Maxxie finally realised, “Where the hell did I pull this gun from?! What's happening!? Where is everyone? Why am I the only one fighting!!??” He found a grenade in his hand and looked at it questioningly for a second before pulling the pin and throwing it. “I'm dreaming! That can be the only answer; I should have realised when I closed my curtains! I don't have curtains, we are in space!” Maxxie stood up and began to run. The exit was only just behind him, and as he passed through, he was back on the bridge.

The bridge was bigger now but still empty. He walked into the centre of the room and realised he was wearing shoes now, as well as his complete uniform. Maxxie was a little freaked out, this all felt so real to him and yet--he just left a war zone and moments later ended up in a room that was at least a five minute walk away. Suddenly he felt a tug on his shoulder pulling him backward before finally falling into a chair. Now the room was full of cheering people, none whom he recognised. In fact, they were all shrouded in a similar blurriness as the Asurians earlier. But with these people, it was obvious that they weren't dangerous, but rather happy.

What pulled him back, Maxxie soon realised, was a hand belonging too Bryn Cale, the captain's personal adviser. Bryn looked down at Maxxie with a beaming smile on his face. The cheering had stopped, but Maxxie hadn't noticed. Bryn removed his hand from Maxxie's shoulder and took a few steps back, always smiling.

“Boy, you know you're dreaming, don't you?” Bryn said without warning in a quiet, yet very clear voice. Maxxie's vision seemed to zoom in on Bryn's lips as he spoke.

Maxxie looked around himself and noticed he was sitting in the Captain's chair. “Yeah, I realised a little while ago...” ”If I'm in the Captains chair, then where is Rissen?” he asked himself.

“Then...” Bryn took a few more steps back, but now it seemed more like he was gliding than stepping. “Then why don't you wake up?”

“Yeah, we need you in the kitchen.” Another voice came from behind. The chair he was sitting in began to spin to the right under guidance of the owner of the new voice. Before him stood Captain Simona Rissen, wearing nothing but a laced bra and thong, confirming that this really was a dream, as this was how most of Maxxie's dreams ended up. “Maxxie, you should wake up, honey,” she said, pouting her lips.

“I can't wake up now, you just got here!” Maxxie moaned, trying to touch her but she seemed out of reach.

“But you need to wake up now, Maxxie, we need you in the kitchen,” Rissen continued, about to undo her bra strap. “MAXXIE, WAKE UP AND GET YOUR GOD DAMN ARSE TO THE GOD DAMN KITCHEN.”

Maxxie's eyes widened at the suddenly aggressive tone of voice. It didn't even sound like Rissen any more. He blinked a few times before realising... He was back in his room. He bolted up and looked around. He was still in his uniform, there were no curtains, and most importantly, he could see a porno hanging out of the draw. He signed, leaning back. He couldn't believe the dream had ended there. “Gah... at least it's over,” he said.

“Not quite,” said a very broad voice from beside him. It was Bryn laying beside him, wearing nothing but the same laced underwear as Rissen and his own large smile. Always smiling...

Maxxie woke up again and jumped out of his bed, making sure the room was normal and completely empty besides himself. Everything appeared to be fine, though he was out of breath and sweaty. “Maxxie, wake up, damn you!” he heard, coming from the communications device attached to his collar.

“Jayda?” he answered.

“Finally! Dancer has been trying to get a hold of you for awhile now,” Jayda stressed. “We need you in the kitchen. The route home has been approved by the Captain so now we are getting overrun with personnel from the bridge. And most people that get told to get out of the engine room by Murphy.” She stopped for a breath. “It's only me, Grey and Dancer here, we could do with a hand, please?”

Maxxie was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Sure, Jayda. Let me just wash myself up a bit and I'll come there as soon as I can,” he said, standing up and unbuttoning his jacket. “I think I feel a headache coming on, though.” He turned the device off and went for a shower.



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”Hmm, it would seem as though the ship is aligning itself with the route back to the colonies,” Kimber thought as he felt the ship begin to rotate. He sighed. If only he had a window, he could tell his location by the constellations. All he could do now was wait. ”Where did that Warden Helgrin disappear too? A janitor could do a better job guarding me than him...”

“I'll just have to wait... they'll need me eventually.”