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Opposing Sun Spaceport - Alhira – Demaria
A golden statue of mighty Altheor, the commanding warrior who centuries ago led the Demarian fleet to a self-sacrificing victory against the Nall, rises about two hundred feet above the hundred-foot-high black marble dome that contains the Opposing Sun Spaceport. Once, in 2613, a traffic control mishap led to disaster when a descending freighter had to swerve off course to avoid a launching courier - the freighter slammed into and through Altheor's right fist where it rested on his hip. That fist has never been replaced. Instead, the mangled remnants of the hand (fused with some freighter wreckage) serve as a centerpiece at the heart of the spaceport main terminal.
Nimblefoot stands next to the boarding ramp of the newly commissioned Sharpclaw, which is still getting a few last minute checks and adjustments by technicians. Various access panels across it are open in which they are working. Underclasser laborers work diligently to load supplies into the ship's cargo hold while Nimblefoot looks over a PDA with a junior officer.
The public shuttlecraft flys in overhead, setting down near the Sharpclaw. After a few moments, the doors to the shuttle opens and a number of individuals disembark, mostly Demarians. Amoung them, Blackmane can be seen, his hands behind his back as he walks across the spaceport, looking for something, or someone. He is running late - can't trust the public transit system.
Nimblefoot nods to the junior officer. "See to it, Short Tooth. Report to me when it is done." The Short Tooth steps back and offers a salute, placing his closed right fist over his left breast, before turning to depart.
After a few minutes of wandering across the spaceport, Blackmane finally spots the Sharpclaw. He smiles, thinking it is quite the spectacular looking ship - afterall, he's used to serving on smaller ships. He picks up his pace as he comes up to the Sharpclaw and is stopped by a member of the crew. "I have been summoned by your commanding officer, he is expecting me." He says, waiting to be let through and directed to Nimblefoot.
Nimblefoot looks up and sees Blackmane and the crew. "Let him pass." he says, and the crew member steps aside. "Second Fang Blackmane. I've been expecting you, I received your transfer orders this morning from command."
Nodding to the crewman after he is allowed to pass, Blackmane heads straight for Nimblefoot. Standing at attention, his eyes straight forward in respect of his superior, the Second Fang replies, "Yes, sir. Second Fang Blackmane reporting for duty, permission to come aboard?" Some formality here to the transfer, as the Second Fang is not familiar with how Nimblefoot runs his ship.
"Permission granted." Nimblefoot says. "Welcome aboard. I'm sure you'd like to see the ship as soon as possible. Come." he says, and turns to head up the ramp.
Bridge - <DMV Sharpclaw>
This spacious command center offers a mix of functionality with comfort. The floor is covered with a deep plush purple carpet that has ample padding underneath to provide a comfortable walking surface. On a slightly raised dias in the center is the command chair, which looks more like an easy chair. It has deep, soft cushions of a lighter shade of purple, with control panels covered with wood highlights are mounted on the fronts of the chair arms. Before this is the main navigational console, a large arc of wood and gold trim that provides all the necessary controls to operate the vessel while maintaining a look of fine furniture in the process. Auxilliary control consoles are on the starboard and port side walls for functions such as science analysis, communications, and computer access, all sharing the same wood paneled look. The viewscreen itself on the fore wall is surrounded by an opulent gold frame, which complements the varnished wood panelling that covers the walls of the bridge. Lighting is provided by recessed lighting in the ceiling, as well as brass sconces spaced along the walls. The console chairs are cushioned much like the command chair, and each station, command chair included, has a polished round mirror mounted on a brass swing arm next to it. A single wood panelled door leads aft to the rest of the ship.
Nimblefoot steps onto the bridge and steps near the command chair. "Our home away from home, as it were." Nimblefoot says as he seats himself in it. "Once we have completed our command staff the ship will begin shakedown trials, but they will have to be quick. We already have a mission assigned."
Following closely behind the First Fang, Blackmane nods as he listens. He can't help but smile slightly as he walks through the ship, and the smile grows as he steps onto the bridge. "Yes, sir. What are we missing with regards to the crew? And in what capacity am I to serve?"
"You shall be the vessel's executive officer." Nimblefoot says, tapping on one of the panels on the command chair, bringing up a crew roster on the panel's small screen. "Primarily we are awaiting assignment of a helmsman, engineer, and security chief." he says, scrolling through the list. "I have been looking through various candidates but none have possessed the requisite experience this mission will require. Having science personnel aboard would also be prudent."
Nodding, Blackmane looks over at one of the consoles and some of the crew members on the bridge. "As you wish, sir. I can assist in matters of security, I was posted as a security officer aboard a ship years ago. But I shall act as your first officer in my primary capacity. What will our first assignment be?"
Nimblefoot taps a few buttons and the viewscreen switches to display mode, bringing up a star chart. "We've been assigned to explore the space beyond our official borders... here." he says, highlighting a section of the galactic map. "Probes sent into that region have detected some rather odd readings coming from a star system a few sectors beyond our border. Our orders are to investigate the planet, determine the nature of the readings, and if possible, stake a claim to any resources it may possess."
The Second Fang steps over to the viewscreen and examines the starchart. "Sounds easy enough, sir. But as we both know, nothing is ever simple." Blackmane states, as he continues to look at the chart. "No information on the strange readings? Life signs on the planet?"
"Unfortunately the probe suffered damage on the transit to the planet." Nimblefoot says, rising from the chair and joining Blackmane at the viewscreen. "All we know is that lifeforms were detected, but the readings were very unspecific. Atmosphere readings indicated high levels of greenhouse gases, so the guess is that it is a volcanic planet. It's enough to get their attention, and they are sending us rather than sending another probe. Besides, they are rather expensive."
"And a ship is expendable compared to a probe, sir?" Blackmane muses, sarcastically - which after he says it he hopes it caught by his commander. "I suspect you will want to send down a landing party to secure a small area before sending down scientific staff?"
Nimblefoot permits a small smirk to Blackmanes comment. "Yes. An area will be secured before we risk non-military personnel."
Blackmane nods, expecting the answer but to allow his commander to be credited with coming up with the plan. "It should be interesting, sir. Let us hope we can secure the planet and take it for Demaria. I trust this is for us and not the Consortium?" He asks, just clarifying.
Nimblefoot shakes his head. "This is a Vanguard mission. It will be Consortium territory, thus some of our scientific personnel will be from other member worlds." he says.
"Understood, sir." Blackmane replies, turning to back the First Fang. "When do you expect to be ready to depart, sir?"
"I have set our departure date within the next two weeks, to allow time for shakedown trials. With luck our personnel transfers at that time will be complete." Nimblefoot says.
"Very good, sir." Blackmane says. "In the meantime, what are your orders? Anything in particular you need me doing?"
"Look over our personnel records, and if you find officers that fit the parameters, or perhaps officers you have served with in the past you would recommend, write up those recommendations and submit them to me." Nimblefoot says. "In the meantime, oversee the ship's preparations. We still have supplies to load."
Blackmane nods, "Understood, sir. If you require anything of else of me, I shall be aboard the ship. I will begin searching through the files right away."
Nimblefoot nods. "Dismissed, Second Fang."
The Second Fang salutes his commanding officer, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." He nods, and turns and departs the bridge.