HANGAR 10, POPOV HUB, CAERUS SYSTEM
“Nice ride.” commented the ship technician, wiping her hands on her overalls as Furieux returned to the hangar. She had just finished repairing some light scratches on the hull of a scarlet red Saud Kruger Orca that the commander had commissoned. “It isn’t often you see these vessels in for repairs here. A pity really, she is truly spectacular to look at.”
Furieux stopped at her side and smiled. The two of them looked up at the curvaceous and glossy hull for a moment. “Yeah, she is a beauty. Took me forever to gather enough credits to buy her. She has that ‘something’ that no other ship has. A sense of pure style. I named her the ‘Delicate Heart’.”
The technician burst out laughing. Furieux returned his gaze to the woman questioningly, puzzled by her outburst at the mention of the ship’s name...
Intelligence Room – Freedom Party HQ – Popov Hub – Caerus System
Geryk Lepinski was alone, hunched over a terminal in the intelligence room when Furieux arrived. His slender fingers danced over the interface with practiced ease and accuracy. The old fashioned keyboard was of the mechanical type and Furieux puzzled over why such a highly trained data adept would use such a relic over the more modern and commonplace holographic input devices. Everything in the room was white, from the technology to the furniture to Lepinski’s attire, a loose fitting kimono style garment that gave him an almost feminine appearance. His bald head tilted from side to side as he worked. Furieux felt a little like he was interfering with the harmony or ‘feng shui’ of his surroundings being clad entirely in black...
Popov Hub Hanger
July 8, 3301
20:48 hrs, UST
The pad lift slid back bringing the ship safely into the dock. Though safely might have been a bit of an over statement as the ship was smoking heavily. The smell of burning electrical systems billowing out from rents in the ship’s hull. The port side pylon was crushed, the C3 Beam Laser that was supposed to have been housed there, was nothing more than the remnants of the gimbal it once sat upon. The main body showed signs of a severe impact with evidence of laser fire along the trailing edges of the ship. The whine of the engine as it spun down sounded more like a dull rattling hiss, than the sophisticated hum of a Gutamaya power plant . The once proud Imperial Courier had been reduced to a barely functioning piece of space garbage.
The Popov Hub klaxons rang as crews rushed out with extinguishing equipm...
“Fuel scooping complete.” declared the Lady Muck as Commander Deuil Furieux swallowed the last remaining liquid from a bottle of Geueze before wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand.
The ship was currently suspended in the orbit of Sugrivik, a large class G star from where it was collecting base hydrogen fuel. The journey from Gliese 900.1 to Zeta Tucanae wasn’t a long one, but the combination of the new Imperial Clipper possessing such a small tank along with an overall thirst for gas, it had become necessary to make a stop in the system and replenish the reserves. Gazing out of the viewport, Furieux observed the large, swirling yellow ball of plasma for a few self-reflective moments. Even now, after all the myriad stars he had witnessed up close since he had first taken leave of his home planet, they still fascinated him. Every one was unique...