Deep Space Station Naramsin | Thrashian Imperial Space | Classified Location
2.11.001 of the New Galactic Era
Neil Ramius clenched his teeth, though had control over his emotions enough to not visibly grind them together. A naval officer, let alone a ship's captain, never let his frustration show; let alone any other emotion that he or she was not prepared to reveal. The lead officer sitting behind the metallic desk before him was nearing the end of his remarks.
"Please understand, Captain Ramius, that this is not a slight to you or a demotion. While I can readily understand any anger or frustration you may have at this transfer, please know that the Admiralty still holds you with high regard," said Vice Admiral Luthor Huss.
The rear admiral sitting to Huss' right nodded and folded his arms. "Indeed! Neil, you're a fantastic officer of the line and your experience in the last few campaigns speak to that. It's why I recommended you two times for commendation."
Ramius lifted his head slightly, "I thank you again, sir, for those recommendations."
Admiral Huss smiled. You must think that that is a winning smile...and it isn't, thought Ramius.
"Well deserved commendations - like the Order of Valor, with Stars -- for your bravery and action. I know a lot about you thanks to Rear Admiral Doutiere. Your AARs also show a clear minded ship captain, even in the worst of situations."
The third officer chipped in. "Your account of the Knight Hammer's action at Bilbringi do not do you justice, Captain Ramius. I had to interview three of your bridge crewmen to get the full story from them. It seems you tried to play down the effort that allowed those three civilian liners to escape the Chaos flotilla in the system."
The three men all sagely nodded and harrumphed.
Ramius wanted to take out his blaster pistol and use it as a club.
"If none of you objects, and if there is no other recourse, I must leave to see about my duties for this new posting," Ramius said, slightly impressed by his own ability to sound neutral.
Vice Admiral Huss nodded. "It's not the Knight Hammer, but I'm sure you'll adjust soon enough. Good luck out there in the wild beyond, Captain Ramius."
A sharp salute and perfect spin on his left heel brought Ramius to the exit door where two naval stormtroopers stood immobile. They did however snap to attention and one opened the door to him as he approached. Without further word or even looking back, Ramius left the briefing room and headed into the myriad hallways of the Naramsin station.
He stopped by a transparisteel observation point to breathe. A refreshment machine was next to him and a couple of lounge chairs. Without caring who might be watching, Ramius picked up a chair and smashed it into the vending machine. The chair snapped, made from cheap plastic, and pieces flew all over. If he hadn't been wearing his officer's gloves, the shards might have cut his hand.
"Whoa! Cap'n! No need to be destroying chairs or beating up on vends." The thick drawl drew Ramius around and he found his 3rd Officer, Commander Lyran Trix, standing a few feet away from him. His hands were up and a look of concern was on his round, farm-boy face.
Ramius sighed and tossed the remnants of the chair to the ground. A few junior officers that had been passing by picked up their pace, faster after Lyran gave them a hard stare. Within a few moments the hall was deserted except for the two of them and a cleaning bot that appeared and quietly cleaned up the broken chair pieces.
"It's just not fair, Trix," said Ramius, grinding it out. "It's just not fair."
Lyran Trix looked out the view port. The station was an amorphous mass of durasteel. The light of nearby ship engines seemed brighter for all the fact that there was no nearby star. Naramsin Station was a special deep space facility -- one of many seeded throughout the Empire -- and at the moment there were a dozen Imperial-class Star Destroyers docked with it. Lyran could see, fourth down the row, the Knight Hammer.
"They took your ship away?"
Ramius sighed and stood up. "It wasn't my ship, it's the Navy's, or that's what they told me."
Lyran suddenly turned back to his captain, shock on his face. "What about the crew!?"
"I get to take one or two with me, the rest remain with the Knight Hammer."
"Does that mean..."
"Yes, Trix, you're coming along. Let me see your code cylinder."
Lyran took out his code cylinder and handed it to Ramius, who walked over to a data port and accessed it using his own code cylinder. So long as his command codes were verified, he could access his latest mission log and duty files at nearly any point on the station. He spent a few minutes checking 'yes' and 'confirmed' on some preliminary documents that popped up, presenting him with his new mission profile and dossier. He then went into the crew list for the Knight Hammer and selected three names: Lyran Trix, Commander; Eduard Dinep, Chief-Engineer; and Wen Vintish, Starfighter Operations Coordinator.
A few button pushes and code authorizations later and Ramius was finished.
He turned and handed Lyran back his code cylinder.
"I expect to see you and the other two at the designated crew entry point tomorrow at zero-eight-hundred hours," said Ramius. "Is that understood, Commander Trix?"
Lyran grinned big, his farm-boy face making him seem far too young to be in uniform. He snapped a passable and hyper-eager salute. "You betcha -- uh, I mean, yes, sir, Captain!"
"Good. Now, get scarce. I've got my own duties to attend to."
Lyran took out his datapad as he walked away, back to the "shore" quarters for the Knight Hammer crew members, and slid in his code cylinder to the pad's reader. His new orders popped up within a few moments, detailing his new assignment and transfer orders.
He paused for a moment, squinting at the display. "Hangar bay 12-A...why the hell would we be in a hangar bay?"
Ramius turned and walked away from his encounter with Trix. He spent a slightly longer than average time getting back to the command officers' quarters. He chided himself as he walked, berating himself for allowing his emotions to get the better of him. It was hardly like him, to get so angry that he'd lash out in such a foolish and unprofessional manner. But taking away a Captain's ship...
His private room on the station had only a few personal effects. A model of a Corellian spaceship on his desk, a painting of his wife hanging on the wall, and a photograph of his twin sons smiling in their cadet uniforms. Seeing them made him jot down a mental note to send them a message. As hard as it was to meet under normal Naval circumstances, this new assignment would see to it that he'd not see his sons for quite a while longer.
He spent the next few hours reading over his orders and the details of his mission, before eating a small dinner and then falling asleep.
* * * * *
Deep Space Station Naramsin
2.11.001 NGE
Earlier that same day...
"Doctor, sir -- I mean, ma'am -- Colonel! You're sure we need to bring all of these?"
The young adjutant seemed more than a little confused and upset. Jessica Noel considered the scene before her. Five naval ensigns were trying their best not to show strain from the weight of the cargo boxes that she'd stacked in their arms without so much of a warning other than a muttered, "hold this."
Ensign Bretti seemed particularly encumbered due to the 10,000+ year old slab of rock, a stele with proto-Ixkrian xeno glyphs carved into it's surface, that was in his arms.
"I need these to help me in my work, Ensign," replied Noel. She decided to use her sweet voice, after that. "Please deliver it to my quarters aboard the ship. It's not too far away."
She thought she heard one of them mutter something about being treated little better than droids, but they did turn and carry her things away.
Jessica turned about her office, trying to make sure she wasn't going to be leaving anything behind. Several of her dictionaries, physical copies and not digitized in a datapad, had already been packed. Two of her xeno artifacts had already been sent off and Ensign Bretti was carrying the third. All that remained was...her clothes and Pixie.
Pixie was a protocol droid that was currently standing immobile in the corner. Jessica began throwing her clothes into her duffel bag, not really caring if they weren't folded. "Wake up, Pixie! It's almost time to go."
The eyes flashed blue and Pixie awoke from her slumber status state. Her gears whirled softly as she looked around and considered what 'she' was seeing. Stenciled on her back was her designation: P-1X13.
"Mistress, it would appear that we're moving out."
"You're right about that, Pix. I want you to take my bag to our new quarters aboard ship," replied Jessica, tossing her bag at the droid.
"And here I thought that all members of the Chiss species were suppose to be neat and orderly about their belongings," Pixie said, looking at the bag in her hands.
"Enough of your complaining, Pixie, and get to it. I've got a board meeting to attend before I can get to the ship," replied Jessica.
Before she left her room, Jessica did at least try to make sure her uniform was mostly presentable. She was one of the Imperial Military's leading xeno-biologists and part of the R&D Branch, all of which meant that she didn't quite need to be as starch-y as the other goofs marching about.
Her chronometer beeped and Jessica sped away through the halls. Various officers and personnel dodged out of her way, saluting with equal parts surprise and confusion on their faces.
She arrived in the conference room with three minutes to spare.
"Took your damned time I see, Dr. Noel," greeted the gravely bass voice of Dr. Ericson. The aged man was kindly looking, different from the deep and authoritative specter that his voice seemed to convey. He pushed his bifocals up onto the bridge of his nose, an oddity he liked to keep even though surgery could easily have fixed his eyesight problem.
"Don't mind him, Jessica, he was the first one here only because he thought he might be late," interrupted another. Stepping up next to Dr. Ericson and also wearing a science officer's uniform was Egret Lamarr, physicist and cyberneticist extraordinaire; and one of Jessica's oldest friends, roommates even back in their Academy days.
A third voice gave a disapproving tut-tut. "Please, let's try to keep decorum and pretend that we respect the rank that the military gave us."
A middle-aged man with a bushy beard grumbled.
Jessica smiled. "You're right, Dr. Major Zewali. Otherwise our normie fellow officers on this mission will get angry with us."
"Undoubtedly," muttered Dr. Ericson.
"Alright then, let's all be seated and get this meeting started," called Jessica. A dozen doctorate-holding scientists, experts in various fields, sat down around a conference table. All had coffee brought to them, except for Dr. Bone, who preferred tea.
"We're going to be the lead scientists aboard ship, to find and to explore strange new star systems, to seek out new life and new civilizations, and research and record everything we find!" said Jessica, happily. "I've been appointed as the mission commander and I'll make sure that--."
"That no one starts a war."
The interjecting voice came from behind Jessica. All eyes turned to see a flashily dressed woman with startlingly bright golden eyes, obvious genetically modified, and white-blonde hair. She strode into the room and seemed to act as if she owned it.
"Uhm, and you are?" asked Dr. Ericson.
"Lady Baroness Diana Quincy," she said, smiling.
She must have been expecting a reaction from that pronouncement, but tsked in frustration when all she got was a dozen blank looks of confusion and noncomprehension.
"Typical," she said. "Too busy with your collective noses in texts and research to know anything about high society."
"I'm sorry, but why would a Baroness be here?" asked Jessica, frowning.
"I've been appointed as an Imperial Envoy," smiled Baroness Diana. She took out a small datapad and handed it to Jessica, who nearly dropped it.
Jessica scanned through the file on display. It was an authorization from the Imperial Foreign Ministry and co-signed by Grand Moff Noventa himself. Lady Baroness Diana Quincy would accompany the science and research mission in order to act as an Imperial Envoy with plenipotentiary powers. Jessica's eyes widened at that part. This is way, way above my pay grade and I so do not want to deal with this.
"So...you're taking command of the mission?" Jessica asked, looking up with apprehension. With the authority invested in her by the authorization on the datapad, the Baroness could do pretty much all that she pleased.
Diana laughed. The seated scientists all exchanged more looks of confusion.
"Silly girl," Diana smiled, again. "Of course not! Maker forfend I do that. I'm more than happy to let you and your little book club members here handle the mission."
All of the seated scientists gave an open sign of relief.
"However..."
Breathing stopped and eyes quirked.
"I will handle any first-contact situations that we have. I'll be relying on your collective skills for translation and such. Would hate to start a diplomatic incident due to bad translating. You're all highly accredited, so I know you won't fail me."
Most of the room nodded and Jessica handed her back her datapad.
"Alright then, lovelies! I'll see you all aboard ship. Ta-ta for now."
Without another word the beautifully dressed baroness turned and left the room. Her exit was as sudden and surprising as her entrance. No one spoke in the room for a few minutes, everyone simply either exchanging a few looks of further confusion, incomprehension, or staring at the closed door as if hoping that whatever had just happened was an illusion.
Jessica turned back to them.
"Well, at least we won't have to handle those details. Instead we can focus on the research opportunities. Now, if you'll turn to page 3, section triple-4, one...."
* * * * *
Deep Space Station Naramsin
3.11.001 NGE
0500 Hours
A beeping alert woke Ramius up. He turned to see not his alarm beeping, but his datapad. He rolled over and begrudgingly picked it up.
A new message appeared, appending his previous orders.
Ramius read it. Twice.
"GODS DAMN THEM ALL!"
He threw the datapad against the wall. It smashed to pieces. He rolled back to his previous sleeping position, pulled up his sheets, and closed his eyes.
Four minutes later, his alarm sounded.