Directorate Officer
[member=" Megàn Alestria"]
Captain's Quarters, Altier-class Frigate Athena, in orbit via Tholatin
Captain Quee leaned back in his chair, idly reading the latest report from the fleet's administrative officer. Much of it was bureaucratic housekeeping, like listing promotions, awards, transfers, and the local commander's vision. As he scrolled down towards the bottom of the article, the man from Hast noted his own name, finally listing both his somewhat recent promotion as well as a notice about his new command. Yet he found the reasoning statement behind that notice somewhat oddly worded: “in order to better the Republic Fleet”. What does that even mean? Better the Fleet? Get out of someone's way, or I'm actually doing something right? Glancing at his wrist chrono, the man quickly dismissed the thoughts as he buttoned the upper part of his tunic. Almost instinctively, the man grabbed an aged black trenchcoat, one of the few possessions he had retained of his biological father, and tightened its loose folds around his waist. A deferential voice emanated out from behind him.
“Heading out, sir?” quipped T4-TU, silver humanoid-shaped droid.
Gir slowly nodded, “I'm meeting with several local officials on the ground.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“Well,” mused the blonde man wistfully, “I really hope so. We've definitely been spaceside long enough. And the holo-teleconferencing really hasn't helped; not after seeing where Captain Tukea is stationed. I don't need to think about those meetings any more.”
“But will there be more meetings on the ground?”
“Doubtlessly,” admitted Gir, “but there should be time to take some photos.”
“You should take some holos, sir,” suggested the droid, “I think Salmakk would appreciate them.”
“Maybe,” said Gir, “just maybe. I have to get going T4, but I'll tell you all about it when I get back.”
“Yes sir.”
The man exited the room, past a pair of marines guarding his quarters, and followed a labyrinthian corridor that eventually drew him into the hatch of a different vessel: the Moonlight. After his experience on the ship over Zeltros, the man had began to think of the shuttle as something of good luck charm. He waded past the passenger seats to the front of the cockpit and buckled himself into the pilot's seat. After testing the crash harness for tightness, the man slipped on a headset and toggled the comm.
“Moonlight requesting permission to launch,” stated Gir plainly.
A low voice somewhat suffused with static came back to him, “Permission granted Moonlight. Safe travels Captain.”
A metallic clank echoed throughout the tiny shuttle as his ship began to drift away from the frigate. Several meters later, he engaged the Moonlight's engines; the ship rocketed towards the world below. And to think at point in time, Tholatin was infamous as a smuggler's den in our navy textbooks...I guess I'll get to see what people are really like down there thousands of years later...that's enough time to become respectable, right?
Captain's Quarters, Altier-class Frigate Athena, in orbit via Tholatin
Captain Quee leaned back in his chair, idly reading the latest report from the fleet's administrative officer. Much of it was bureaucratic housekeeping, like listing promotions, awards, transfers, and the local commander's vision. As he scrolled down towards the bottom of the article, the man from Hast noted his own name, finally listing both his somewhat recent promotion as well as a notice about his new command. Yet he found the reasoning statement behind that notice somewhat oddly worded: “in order to better the Republic Fleet”. What does that even mean? Better the Fleet? Get out of someone's way, or I'm actually doing something right? Glancing at his wrist chrono, the man quickly dismissed the thoughts as he buttoned the upper part of his tunic. Almost instinctively, the man grabbed an aged black trenchcoat, one of the few possessions he had retained of his biological father, and tightened its loose folds around his waist. A deferential voice emanated out from behind him.
“Heading out, sir?” quipped T4-TU, silver humanoid-shaped droid.
Gir slowly nodded, “I'm meeting with several local officials on the ground.”
“Sounds delightful.”
“Well,” mused the blonde man wistfully, “I really hope so. We've definitely been spaceside long enough. And the holo-teleconferencing really hasn't helped; not after seeing where Captain Tukea is stationed. I don't need to think about those meetings any more.”
“But will there be more meetings on the ground?”
“Doubtlessly,” admitted Gir, “but there should be time to take some photos.”
“You should take some holos, sir,” suggested the droid, “I think Salmakk would appreciate them.”
“Maybe,” said Gir, “just maybe. I have to get going T4, but I'll tell you all about it when I get back.”
“Yes sir.”
The man exited the room, past a pair of marines guarding his quarters, and followed a labyrinthian corridor that eventually drew him into the hatch of a different vessel: the Moonlight. After his experience on the ship over Zeltros, the man had began to think of the shuttle as something of good luck charm. He waded past the passenger seats to the front of the cockpit and buckled himself into the pilot's seat. After testing the crash harness for tightness, the man slipped on a headset and toggled the comm.
“Moonlight requesting permission to launch,” stated Gir plainly.
A low voice somewhat suffused with static came back to him, “Permission granted Moonlight. Safe travels Captain.”
A metallic clank echoed throughout the tiny shuttle as his ship began to drift away from the frigate. Several meters later, he engaged the Moonlight's engines; the ship rocketed towards the world below. And to think at point in time, Tholatin was infamous as a smuggler's den in our navy textbooks...I guess I'll get to see what people are really like down there thousands of years later...that's enough time to become respectable, right?