Dneprdaniya
25-05-2008, 19:09
Somewhere outside of Home Space
Zhmivod Sector
Reconaissance Space-going Aviation-capable Vessel Vezhtek
Friedman was wrong. There certainly is something as a free lunch, Captain Petrosov reflected as he bit into his sandwich. He paused for a moment and looked around. Who the hell was Friedman? He shrugged. It was not his job to think about those sort of things. His job - or at least a part of it - was to look for new planets to spread the Glory of Socialism to. He considered himself a pioneer, and according to the propaganda posters, radio broadcasts, and television "shows" he had come accustomed to, everyone else considered him that, too. He was, however, hardly a hero. The Vezhtek was, for all intents and purposes, unarmed, an old DVKS ship converted to a reconaissance-carrier, its weapons removed for propulsion and observation purposes. Indeed, if he met any foreign fashistskoy pigdogs, they would probably be able to swat his pathetic little craft out of their way with no trouble at all. Finishing his sandwich, Petrosov leaned back in his seat and looked at the stars flash brightly. He had often wondered who would be the Dneprdanii people's first contact, what they looked like, how they behaved...
"Comrade Captain, we are holding orbit over the planet."
This was the big day. Their first discovery had come onto the scopes last week and they had been travelling to their destination ever since, as fast as their engines would take them. An apparently untouched planet, with a fully working atmosphere. Probably a rarity... or maybe not. Who knew? The Captain withdrew a bottle of vodka from a drawer in his command desk, and began pouring the clear substance into a little glass. "Bring us into the atmosphere, Comrade Myagovsky." The ship was rather small, but definetly cramped, and it was normally of reconaissance ships to have extremely tight crews, occasionally resulting in a breakdown of discipline or protocol. It hadn't happened on the Vezhtek, but Captain Petrosov was aware of other ships were the crew treated each other in the most egalitarian fashion. He at least knew the names of all of his 42 crewmembers, but he ran a fairly tight ship compared to some. None of his crew had ever complained though - at least to him, anyway. The Captain sat and watched as his crew brought them down through the atmosphere of the planet, with sirens sounding throughout the ship and the gravitic stabilisers kicking in.
As the ship descended through the clouds and looked over the bright, rolling expanses of the world, observing a fully active ecosystems. Bluey-green seas washed over rocky cliffs and huge beaches, breaking into rivers which snaked inland through untouched fields and through forests, spreading into huge lakes where the sun's generous rays bounced off the water's surface and spread their life-giving properties to the foreign plants around them. "Yob tvoyu mat..." the Captain murmured, standing up and look down over what he could see. The rest of the crew, too, were in a similar degree of awe. "Comrades. Behold." Still maintaining control of the ship, they halted and hovered at eight klicks above the surface. The whole crew who were not directly involved in the process of running the ship looked out over what they could see. It was like a very lucid dream, but nobody was going to snap out of it. Not yet, anyway. Rubbing his brow, the Captain turned to his Aviation Officer. "Prepare the landing craft, Comrade." The Officer gave a weak salute and no response and left the room silently, still taking in the new sights to his eyes.
Detaching from the belly of the ship, where previously the huge anti-shipping rockets had nestled, a single helicopter with a landing team began its course down to the surface. Upon landing, the wheels of the helicopter digging into the soft mud, they raised the Dneprdanii flag on the planet, its soft materials barely capable of movement in the warm and windless habitat of the new prize.
Zhmivod Sector
Reconaissance Space-going Aviation-capable Vessel Vezhtek
Friedman was wrong. There certainly is something as a free lunch, Captain Petrosov reflected as he bit into his sandwich. He paused for a moment and looked around. Who the hell was Friedman? He shrugged. It was not his job to think about those sort of things. His job - or at least a part of it - was to look for new planets to spread the Glory of Socialism to. He considered himself a pioneer, and according to the propaganda posters, radio broadcasts, and television "shows" he had come accustomed to, everyone else considered him that, too. He was, however, hardly a hero. The Vezhtek was, for all intents and purposes, unarmed, an old DVKS ship converted to a reconaissance-carrier, its weapons removed for propulsion and observation purposes. Indeed, if he met any foreign fashistskoy pigdogs, they would probably be able to swat his pathetic little craft out of their way with no trouble at all. Finishing his sandwich, Petrosov leaned back in his seat and looked at the stars flash brightly. He had often wondered who would be the Dneprdanii people's first contact, what they looked like, how they behaved...
"Comrade Captain, we are holding orbit over the planet."
This was the big day. Their first discovery had come onto the scopes last week and they had been travelling to their destination ever since, as fast as their engines would take them. An apparently untouched planet, with a fully working atmosphere. Probably a rarity... or maybe not. Who knew? The Captain withdrew a bottle of vodka from a drawer in his command desk, and began pouring the clear substance into a little glass. "Bring us into the atmosphere, Comrade Myagovsky." The ship was rather small, but definetly cramped, and it was normally of reconaissance ships to have extremely tight crews, occasionally resulting in a breakdown of discipline or protocol. It hadn't happened on the Vezhtek, but Captain Petrosov was aware of other ships were the crew treated each other in the most egalitarian fashion. He at least knew the names of all of his 42 crewmembers, but he ran a fairly tight ship compared to some. None of his crew had ever complained though - at least to him, anyway. The Captain sat and watched as his crew brought them down through the atmosphere of the planet, with sirens sounding throughout the ship and the gravitic stabilisers kicking in.
As the ship descended through the clouds and looked over the bright, rolling expanses of the world, observing a fully active ecosystems. Bluey-green seas washed over rocky cliffs and huge beaches, breaking into rivers which snaked inland through untouched fields and through forests, spreading into huge lakes where the sun's generous rays bounced off the water's surface and spread their life-giving properties to the foreign plants around them. "Yob tvoyu mat..." the Captain murmured, standing up and look down over what he could see. The rest of the crew, too, were in a similar degree of awe. "Comrades. Behold." Still maintaining control of the ship, they halted and hovered at eight klicks above the surface. The whole crew who were not directly involved in the process of running the ship looked out over what they could see. It was like a very lucid dream, but nobody was going to snap out of it. Not yet, anyway. Rubbing his brow, the Captain turned to his Aviation Officer. "Prepare the landing craft, Comrade." The Officer gave a weak salute and no response and left the room silently, still taking in the new sights to his eyes.
Detaching from the belly of the ship, where previously the huge anti-shipping rockets had nestled, a single helicopter with a landing team began its course down to the surface. Upon landing, the wheels of the helicopter digging into the soft mud, they raised the Dneprdanii flag on the planet, its soft materials barely capable of movement in the warm and windless habitat of the new prize.