Howard had waited in what felt like an eternity of agony, in reality had only been a few hours. Awaiting the response of his superior, the highly respected leader Bartholomew Kelsomagus.
When a response finally came, his heart sank as he had clearly made the wrong decision in light of his best intensions.
Regardless of Bartholomew's decision, course of action to follow, suspension or even dismissal; Howard was ready.
In the same starflea in which he boldly confronted the aggressive Sails leader, he set course for the magnificent Nichols station. Scanners blipped with SCRA contacts for a moment as he passed through the Dartmoor cloud, it was known they operate close but regardless were of no threat. His ship being faster than almost every other ship-class in use locally.
Upon exiting the cloud, the sheer size of the behemoth creation that is Nichols Trade Centre appeared. Cruising silently toward the station, it getting increasingly larger on approach. The level of engineering required to pull off such a fete in engineering; having such a massive station whilst maintaining planetary orbit, let alone the wonders of technological and scientific advancement from within was more than most could comprehend.
Howard approached dock thirty-eight and was granted docking as if everything was normal.
Leaving his starflea behind, he made his way through the corridors he knew all too well, onward to his expecting senior.
