Weyr
28-12-2004, 04:53
Fluffy flakes of snow danced in the soft wind, the first snowfall of the year. Fleet Admiral Hawksblood whispered something to his High Guard counterpart, the High Marshall Storm. Some errant aerostats might have tried to catch his words, had they not been too busy trying to stay aloft, pulled down by rapidly accumulating white fluff. Standing forty meters above the flat plain behind them, on the roof of the High Guard Paradigm District Center, the two Weyreans had a perfect view of the Sea of Ghosts. Tall waves crashed against the jagged cliffs directly below.
"I love this uniform," Hawksblood tore his eyes away from the sea to brush a few flakes off his jacket's sleeve. "Got the last batch distributed yesterday."
"This is what you used your funding for?" Storm raised a bushy black eyebrow. He knew the admiral was just trying to hide his nervousness. After what had happened five years ago, who wouldn't, the stocky Weyrean thought.
"No. But we needed new uniforms," the blue-haired admiral chuckled, a bit nervously, thought Storm, leaning against the small structure that housed the building's two elevators. How're the kids?"
"They're three and one," Storm sighed.
"True," Hawksblood smiled. He was technically a great grandfather, though such things meant little in Weyr now.
"Kira's back," Marshall Storm stated after a long moment. Hawksblood blinked. "Don't tell me you haven't heard."
"Isn't she supposed to be..." he began.
"...Right here," a voice said cheerily from directly above the blue-haired admiral. "Think I'd miss all the fun?" the redhead dropped lightly onto snow-covered rooftop. "You need better security," she grinned at Storm.
"Oh, let her stay," Hawksblood sighed before Storm could say anything, adjusting the high collar of his dark blue military jacket. "Besides, they're starting."
The gray sea seemed to open, releasing a behemoth craft. Gunmetal gray barrels and turrets seemed to cover every part of its shimmering mithril-steel hull. Red and white navigation lights flashed painfully in the half-light of the day. Water poured off the smooth armor plating, its sound carrying to the three Weyreans standing on a rooftop four hundred meters away. The vessel hung above the tall waves, as though unsure of its next action.
"Whoa," Kira gasped. From her position, the young woman could just read the name emblazoned on the craft's side -- 海洋の運命 WSGS Ocean Destiny -- from two hundred meters away.
"Meet the Ocean Destiny," Fleet Admiral Hawksblood smiled, leaning back against the hard eternastone lift housing. Repulse engines suddenly hummed, making the permacrete beneath Kira's feet shudder as tehy propelled the craft upwards. [i]"Commodore Blake is going to be very happy." The vessel rose towards the steel-gray clouds. Kira craned her head, blinking quickly to keep the snowflakes out of her eyes, until the vessel disappeared into the veil of falling snow.
"Well," Hawksblood sighed, pushing off the gray wall. "Shall we see who tried to blow up the Destiny?"
"What!?"
The ocean Destiny was the second Ocean-class Ship of the Line. The first had been the Ocean itself, destroyed minutes after ascention. The culprits had been found, already dead beyond ressurection.This sime, Storm and Hawksblood had made sure they would get the ones involved alive.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Heaven's Gate was the center for Star Guard activities around the Paradigm Systrem, larger than even the Star Guard enclave on Starhavven Station. The armored mithri-steel disk hung over the planet Paradigm, at a distance from the private orbital construction and shipping yards that ringed the planet. The Star Guard insignia on its hull -- the star-speckled teardrop white flame -- was a reminder to the phyles and corporations that despite all of their new power the Kingdom was still there, a force that would not tolerate dangerous and armed idiocy.
Ranks upon ranks of marines and Star Guard stood in the Assembly, the caverous space where new craft came to recieve their first crews. There was silence, punctured by the whirr of hydraulic docking clamps and hiss of pressure seals.
"Tench-hut!" the marine major's voice was drowned out as a thousand soldiers in Grenadier battle armor snapped to attention. The commodore's boots clicked against the plasteel deck of the station. He was an average-looking Weyrean, with gray, braided hair and long ears, holding his cap under his right arm.
The iris of the large dock aperture at the end of the hall opened. A young Weyrean woman came out to stand by the side of the entrance, dressed in Star Guard officer grays.
The commodore halted before her, bowed to a precise, forty-five degree angle, and held it for five seconds. "Permission to come aboard?" his gravely voice was heard only by those in the ranks closest to him and the docking aperture.
"Permission granted, commodore," the woman replied, bowing in turn. "Welcome to the Ocean Destiny."
The tradition dated to the first ship Constructed Intelligences. The CI avatar piloted the craft, could control its every function, could respond faster and better in combat than nearly any human. Aboard a craft, the ship avatar had authority even over the commanding officer. Thus, the avatar brought the vessel to the station alone, assisted by specialized slave pseudo-intelligence systems. The tradition was a sign of respect to someone who had the power of life and death over everyone aboard a star craft.
OOC: Apologies if the name is mistranslated. I used Google's BETA translation tool, so....
"I love this uniform," Hawksblood tore his eyes away from the sea to brush a few flakes off his jacket's sleeve. "Got the last batch distributed yesterday."
"This is what you used your funding for?" Storm raised a bushy black eyebrow. He knew the admiral was just trying to hide his nervousness. After what had happened five years ago, who wouldn't, the stocky Weyrean thought.
"No. But we needed new uniforms," the blue-haired admiral chuckled, a bit nervously, thought Storm, leaning against the small structure that housed the building's two elevators. How're the kids?"
"They're three and one," Storm sighed.
"True," Hawksblood smiled. He was technically a great grandfather, though such things meant little in Weyr now.
"Kira's back," Marshall Storm stated after a long moment. Hawksblood blinked. "Don't tell me you haven't heard."
"Isn't she supposed to be..." he began.
"...Right here," a voice said cheerily from directly above the blue-haired admiral. "Think I'd miss all the fun?" the redhead dropped lightly onto snow-covered rooftop. "You need better security," she grinned at Storm.
"Oh, let her stay," Hawksblood sighed before Storm could say anything, adjusting the high collar of his dark blue military jacket. "Besides, they're starting."
The gray sea seemed to open, releasing a behemoth craft. Gunmetal gray barrels and turrets seemed to cover every part of its shimmering mithril-steel hull. Red and white navigation lights flashed painfully in the half-light of the day. Water poured off the smooth armor plating, its sound carrying to the three Weyreans standing on a rooftop four hundred meters away. The vessel hung above the tall waves, as though unsure of its next action.
"Whoa," Kira gasped. From her position, the young woman could just read the name emblazoned on the craft's side -- 海洋の運命 WSGS Ocean Destiny -- from two hundred meters away.
"Meet the Ocean Destiny," Fleet Admiral Hawksblood smiled, leaning back against the hard eternastone lift housing. Repulse engines suddenly hummed, making the permacrete beneath Kira's feet shudder as tehy propelled the craft upwards. [i]"Commodore Blake is going to be very happy." The vessel rose towards the steel-gray clouds. Kira craned her head, blinking quickly to keep the snowflakes out of her eyes, until the vessel disappeared into the veil of falling snow.
"Well," Hawksblood sighed, pushing off the gray wall. "Shall we see who tried to blow up the Destiny?"
"What!?"
The ocean Destiny was the second Ocean-class Ship of the Line. The first had been the Ocean itself, destroyed minutes after ascention. The culprits had been found, already dead beyond ressurection.This sime, Storm and Hawksblood had made sure they would get the ones involved alive.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Heaven's Gate was the center for Star Guard activities around the Paradigm Systrem, larger than even the Star Guard enclave on Starhavven Station. The armored mithri-steel disk hung over the planet Paradigm, at a distance from the private orbital construction and shipping yards that ringed the planet. The Star Guard insignia on its hull -- the star-speckled teardrop white flame -- was a reminder to the phyles and corporations that despite all of their new power the Kingdom was still there, a force that would not tolerate dangerous and armed idiocy.
Ranks upon ranks of marines and Star Guard stood in the Assembly, the caverous space where new craft came to recieve their first crews. There was silence, punctured by the whirr of hydraulic docking clamps and hiss of pressure seals.
"Tench-hut!" the marine major's voice was drowned out as a thousand soldiers in Grenadier battle armor snapped to attention. The commodore's boots clicked against the plasteel deck of the station. He was an average-looking Weyrean, with gray, braided hair and long ears, holding his cap under his right arm.
The iris of the large dock aperture at the end of the hall opened. A young Weyrean woman came out to stand by the side of the entrance, dressed in Star Guard officer grays.
The commodore halted before her, bowed to a precise, forty-five degree angle, and held it for five seconds. "Permission to come aboard?" his gravely voice was heard only by those in the ranks closest to him and the docking aperture.
"Permission granted, commodore," the woman replied, bowing in turn. "Welcome to the Ocean Destiny."
The tradition dated to the first ship Constructed Intelligences. The CI avatar piloted the craft, could control its every function, could respond faster and better in combat than nearly any human. Aboard a craft, the ship avatar had authority even over the commanding officer. Thus, the avatar brought the vessel to the station alone, assisted by specialized slave pseudo-intelligence systems. The tradition was a sign of respect to someone who had the power of life and death over everyone aboard a star craft.
OOC: Apologies if the name is mistranslated. I used Google's BETA translation tool, so....