Fate of Terra - Rise of Empires

Chapter 3.6 - Continuation

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Michael stood on the lip of the Destroyer Flight Deck. Pan, Kat, Stacey, Sun Mi along with Marcus and Aurora stood a step or two behind him. A siren sounded, the immense bay doors began to slip back into the hull; the inky black stars held at bay with force fields. With a clang that vibrated the very deck they stood upon, the immense metal doors halted. The large orange and grey freighter began to inch itself inside cautiously, its horizontal stabilisers attached to stubby fins along its nose and tail lazily venting. Slowly the bloated and blemished cylinder neither wobbled or trembled in the steady control of its pilot. The Old Girl slipped within the confines of the force field, translucent blue shielding bending and slipping over the numerous contours of battle scars; like water lapping against the shore. Underfoot, the decking - which had just enough time to stop vibrating - began to tremble and rumble as it retracted to enable the larger freighter within.

The Old Girl froze sharply, wobbled with indecision, then sunk into position. Hydraulic pumps whined as extendible arms - tipped with magnetic clamps to hold the ship steady while docked - ended with a resounding, hollow clang. It was only made louder by the now empty bays of the patrolling Destroyers acting as an amplification chamber. That done, Pan began connecting the two ships together. Large rigs of scaffolding and rubber pipes swung out and slid into the ships external couplings. Michael thought it oddly looked like the ship was on mechanical life support with so many hoses and tubes snaking off of it. Mechanics got to work by pulling open hatches and undoing fastenings to external plates.

Gangplank lowered, Marcus and Aurora stepped forward with Stacey. "Alright listen up," Marcus boomed like a Drill Sergeant proud. "I'm going to say this once and only once." He strolled to the centre of the cargo bay where most of the crew were waiting. "My name is Marcus Webber. Welcome aboard the Intrepid. While on this ship, you're my responsibility. Any complaints, worries or queries are directed to Rear Admiral Stacey Whitmore."

Stacey stepped forward at that, "While aboard the Intrepid you'll be put to work, either on your own ship or on ours. If you don't have a task, report to any of the FSD Interfaces. You each have a card already programmed to Pandora. Swipe, collect your task and do it well. Your performance here will define your roles in the future."

"Precisely." Marcus's amplified voice barked. "If you'll come with us, we'll assign you your duties. Remember, this is our ship, pride of the AI Nation. Perform successfully and expect swift rewards, perform unsuccessfully and expect further training. Failure to perform is on your head and only on your head. If you need the help then you best ask for it." Pausing to let that sink in, Marcus nodded, "Good, all troops report to me, all other personnel, report to Rear Admiral Whitmore." With that, Marcus and Stacey lead their respective columns towards where their duties would be allocated.

Michael watched this with a small smile. Returning his attention to the gangplank he was stood at, he noticed the Captain of the cephalopod Aliens - named the Rohepensend - make its way down to him.

"Impressive as the stories are, it's another thing to meet ya in the flesh." The smartly dressed Captain bowed low, "Good to meet you, Fleet Admiral."

Pan had briefed him about the middle-gendered Captain while they waited. It was unlike the female Admiral he'd spoken with the day prior. The Captain stood a head shorter than Michael on four squat knee height legs. Atop that was a stout fat body that undulated slightly as it walked. From each side spawned squid like tentacles with large pads for hands, while smaller, frailer tentacles protruded where shoulder blades would have been on a human. The mouth was located in the centre of the body while the head, a small glob of glossy semi-transparent gloop, balanced upon a long snakelike neck. Two large black eyes blinked upwards as the being straightened itself.