"Admiral on the bridge!"
The words resound through the almost cavernous bridge of the GTVA Perses, the flagship of the 157th GTVA Terran-Vasudan Expeditionary Task Force, as Admiral William 'Scorpion' Aldritch stepped through the lift doors. A Colossus-class juggernaut, the ship was just over 6 kilometers from bow to stern, a behemoth of a ship. He knew every rivet in her by now - the six years they had been making their way through uncharted space, through Shivan territory and beyond, through fights and exploration. The ship had held up amazingly well, and the men and women of the fleet, green and veteran alike, now worked together like a well-oiled, finely tuned machine.
Looking out the viewscreen, he can see the disorienting, swirling blue tunnel of light that was the path of the subspace corridor they were now in - a familiar sight, by now - that seemed to stretch into eternity before them, despite the pulsing starburst of brilliant white light that seemed to mark an end one would never reach if they traveled a million years. he turns to the captain's chair and meets the eyes of the Vasudan sitting there. "Captain Nikare?"
The Vasudan stands automatically at razor-edged attention, eyes ahead in the formal method their people had that he had tried to dissuade them of, with little success, as he starts to speak. The language comes out - at first - as a low, rumbling, gravelly sound that is at once growling, and yet somehow harmonious at the same time, before the translator they all carry catches up. He's always found it strange that the synthesized voice always came out as a woman that, if the Admiral closed his eyes and imagined, might have been damned sexy, despite the low gravelly tone of the female Vasudan's real voice.
"Admiral, we are approximately ten minutes from emerging into realspace."
He nods at that, looking around the bridge for the face that should be there as well, and isn't. "Where's Captain Moceanu?"
The Vasudan turns her head towards him again, a slight tilt to it that is the rough equivalent of a Terran raising an eyebrow. "I called for the Captain just after I summoned you, Admiral. She stated she was occupied at the moment."
He chuckles at that, nodding. "Yeah, I'll just bet that's what she said. Probably distracted her from trying to threaten Commander Sheppard into letting her have a fighter so she could be off the ship when we come out." He sighs, shaking his head. He respected the woman's ability, surely enough, but she is his Executive Officer, not an escort pilot. Still, he could understand that itch to be at the controls, at times - everything was much more simple in the cockpit.
He steps over to a panel and touches the screen, punching up the commands for a fleet-wide broadcast. "Attention, Task Force, this is Admiral Aldritch. We'll be emerging into the next system on our journey in 8 minutes. All hands to your stations, all pilots to your fighters."
Another couple of touches confines the next broadcast to the Perses, and he speaks again. "Captain Moceanu, report to the bridge on the double."
The words resound through the almost cavernous bridge of the GTVA Perses, the flagship of the 157th GTVA Terran-Vasudan Expeditionary Task Force, as Admiral William 'Scorpion' Aldritch stepped through the lift doors. A Colossus-class juggernaut, the ship was just over 6 kilometers from bow to stern, a behemoth of a ship. He knew every rivet in her by now - the six years they had been making their way through uncharted space, through Shivan territory and beyond, through fights and exploration. The ship had held up amazingly well, and the men and women of the fleet, green and veteran alike, now worked together like a well-oiled, finely tuned machine.
Looking out the viewscreen, he can see the disorienting, swirling blue tunnel of light that was the path of the subspace corridor they were now in - a familiar sight, by now - that seemed to stretch into eternity before them, despite the pulsing starburst of brilliant white light that seemed to mark an end one would never reach if they traveled a million years. he turns to the captain's chair and meets the eyes of the Vasudan sitting there. "Captain Nikare?"
The Vasudan stands automatically at razor-edged attention, eyes ahead in the formal method their people had that he had tried to dissuade them of, with little success, as he starts to speak. The language comes out - at first - as a low, rumbling, gravelly sound that is at once growling, and yet somehow harmonious at the same time, before the translator they all carry catches up. He's always found it strange that the synthesized voice always came out as a woman that, if the Admiral closed his eyes and imagined, might have been damned sexy, despite the low gravelly tone of the female Vasudan's real voice.
"Admiral, we are approximately ten minutes from emerging into realspace."
He nods at that, looking around the bridge for the face that should be there as well, and isn't. "Where's Captain Moceanu?"
The Vasudan turns her head towards him again, a slight tilt to it that is the rough equivalent of a Terran raising an eyebrow. "I called for the Captain just after I summoned you, Admiral. She stated she was occupied at the moment."
He chuckles at that, nodding. "Yeah, I'll just bet that's what she said. Probably distracted her from trying to threaten Commander Sheppard into letting her have a fighter so she could be off the ship when we come out." He sighs, shaking his head. He respected the woman's ability, surely enough, but she is his Executive Officer, not an escort pilot. Still, he could understand that itch to be at the controls, at times - everything was much more simple in the cockpit.
He steps over to a panel and touches the screen, punching up the commands for a fleet-wide broadcast. "Attention, Task Force, this is Admiral Aldritch. We'll be emerging into the next system on our journey in 8 minutes. All hands to your stations, all pilots to your fighters."
Another couple of touches confines the next broadcast to the Perses, and he speaks again. "Captain Moceanu, report to the bridge on the double."