Weyr
09-10-2007, 10:00
Coruscant, Imperial Capital System
Far edge of the system
Black turned to white, white turned to black, and the universe paused for a moment that took an eternity.
Artisan fell from the 'line in a brilliant flare of golden light, blinding scanners for a million miles around. Space-time twisted and pulsed, feebly struggling to adjust to the intrusion of so vast a mass. Tentacled somethings slipped into reality, were instantly fried by exotic radiation. Dimensional rifts sealed; space-time smoothed; the light died to leave the vast ten-kilometer peach-pit that was Artisan, neither engine ports nor antennae or turrets marring armor blacker than the space between the stars, floating in absolute silence at the far edge of the Imperial capital system of Coruscant.
"Admiral on deck!" the watch officer was at attention before the hatch to the main bridge had slid open to reveal a slight woman in navy blue and black.
"As you were," Fleet Admiral Ser Gerald Fear Mell smoothly returned the salute, pausing at the entrance to Artisan's cavernous main bridge, command and coordination. Though the bridge was once again humming with post-translation activity, the watch officer still stood by the captain's crash couch. She walked up to him, to the heavily cushioned chair set on a low dais surrounded by multi-colored displays and consoles, above and apart from the stations and hands that coordinated every function of one of the most powerful warships in known space. "Status report?"
"Translation completed with an error of two-point-four em-kays, and dilation of four hours, fifteen minutes. Core control reported successful ignotion of both 'galaxies. Engineering reported capacitors at fifty percent and rising. Longscan had detected no activity in the immediate volume..."
Though it was all information she could have pulled from Artisan's data nets, Fear preferred verbal reports, which told her of immediate problems without having to sort through countless data flows.
"So we're all green?" she asked. The trouble with inexperienced officers was they didn't know what was essential and what was not, she smiled inwardly. He would learn, she knew, and normally she'd have taken the time to help, but there was one major something she had to hande first.
"Yes, ser."
"Very good. Thank you, commander," Fear settled into the captain's crash couch, not strapping herself in just yet. Artisan was not in a combat situation, and did not expect to be involved in one if everything went well. This was why Fleet Command had insisted, against pressure by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, to have any warship sent to the Imperial capital translate as far away from planets and traffic as possible, rather than drop into reality in Coruscant's orbit and be attacked by some trigger-happy Imperial commander. "Signals, prepare to record a message for immediate transmission." There was no reason to keep them guessing.
"Destination, ser?"
"Make it general." It would be difficult for the Imperials to claim they had not recieved a transmission sent out all across the system.
"Aye, ser. Standing by to record."
One of the displays floating before Fear flickered, the scrolling notifications replaced by an image of her head in real-time, the seal of the Self-Defense Forces Fleet behind it. That same seal, and the seal of the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr, would precede her message. She took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the silence that took hold of the bridge around her, and toggled the switch now saying 'transmit'.
Greetings, Emperor. I am Fleet Admiral Gerald Fear Mell, commander of the Self-Defense Fleet Ship Artisan of the Second Mobile Fleet, here as a diplomatic delegate representing the government of the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr. It has been a long time since Weyr has fought alongside the Empire; we hope the Empire has not forgotten our service in its name. I seek an audience with you or your representative, Emperor. We have much to discuss. Artisan will await your reply here, on the edge of this system.
She toggled the transmit switch, resisted the urge to relax in her crash couch, well aware every person on the bridge and by extension Artisan's entire crew were watching her every move at that very moment.
"Commander Jacobson," she rose, turned to the ship's executive officer.
"Ser?"
"You have the watch."
"I have the watch, aye," he saluted, and Fear returned it before striding out of the bridge, the moment of silence vanishing behind her.
Far edge of the system
Black turned to white, white turned to black, and the universe paused for a moment that took an eternity.
Artisan fell from the 'line in a brilliant flare of golden light, blinding scanners for a million miles around. Space-time twisted and pulsed, feebly struggling to adjust to the intrusion of so vast a mass. Tentacled somethings slipped into reality, were instantly fried by exotic radiation. Dimensional rifts sealed; space-time smoothed; the light died to leave the vast ten-kilometer peach-pit that was Artisan, neither engine ports nor antennae or turrets marring armor blacker than the space between the stars, floating in absolute silence at the far edge of the Imperial capital system of Coruscant.
"Admiral on deck!" the watch officer was at attention before the hatch to the main bridge had slid open to reveal a slight woman in navy blue and black.
"As you were," Fleet Admiral Ser Gerald Fear Mell smoothly returned the salute, pausing at the entrance to Artisan's cavernous main bridge, command and coordination. Though the bridge was once again humming with post-translation activity, the watch officer still stood by the captain's crash couch. She walked up to him, to the heavily cushioned chair set on a low dais surrounded by multi-colored displays and consoles, above and apart from the stations and hands that coordinated every function of one of the most powerful warships in known space. "Status report?"
"Translation completed with an error of two-point-four em-kays, and dilation of four hours, fifteen minutes. Core control reported successful ignotion of both 'galaxies. Engineering reported capacitors at fifty percent and rising. Longscan had detected no activity in the immediate volume..."
Though it was all information she could have pulled from Artisan's data nets, Fear preferred verbal reports, which told her of immediate problems without having to sort through countless data flows.
"So we're all green?" she asked. The trouble with inexperienced officers was they didn't know what was essential and what was not, she smiled inwardly. He would learn, she knew, and normally she'd have taken the time to help, but there was one major something she had to hande first.
"Yes, ser."
"Very good. Thank you, commander," Fear settled into the captain's crash couch, not strapping herself in just yet. Artisan was not in a combat situation, and did not expect to be involved in one if everything went well. This was why Fleet Command had insisted, against pressure by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, to have any warship sent to the Imperial capital translate as far away from planets and traffic as possible, rather than drop into reality in Coruscant's orbit and be attacked by some trigger-happy Imperial commander. "Signals, prepare to record a message for immediate transmission." There was no reason to keep them guessing.
"Destination, ser?"
"Make it general." It would be difficult for the Imperials to claim they had not recieved a transmission sent out all across the system.
"Aye, ser. Standing by to record."
One of the displays floating before Fear flickered, the scrolling notifications replaced by an image of her head in real-time, the seal of the Self-Defense Forces Fleet behind it. That same seal, and the seal of the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr, would precede her message. She took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the silence that took hold of the bridge around her, and toggled the switch now saying 'transmit'.
Greetings, Emperor. I am Fleet Admiral Gerald Fear Mell, commander of the Self-Defense Fleet Ship Artisan of the Second Mobile Fleet, here as a diplomatic delegate representing the government of the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr. It has been a long time since Weyr has fought alongside the Empire; we hope the Empire has not forgotten our service in its name. I seek an audience with you or your representative, Emperor. We have much to discuss. Artisan will await your reply here, on the edge of this system.
She toggled the transmit switch, resisted the urge to relax in her crash couch, well aware every person on the bridge and by extension Artisan's entire crew were watching her every move at that very moment.
"Commander Jacobson," she rose, turned to the ship's executive officer.
"Ser?"
"You have the watch."
"I have the watch, aye," he saluted, and Fear returned it before striding out of the bridge, the moment of silence vanishing behind her.