The Queen

[PKPower]

Flagship Ostara
Somewhere in the walker nebula
02/25/825

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It has only been a couple of weeks since Ernst Fischer arrived on the Ostara, but he already could not wait to leave the ship again. It was crowded, filthy, smelly and a whole bunch of other adjectives describing things Ernst did not appreciate. Exiting his meditative state he stood up from his bed in the small room he was residing in for the time of his stay. The ceiling was just barely high enough for him not to hit his head and he could touch both of the opposing walls when he stretched out his arms. Not that he would want to touch the walls. The few things the room contained were positioned in a meticulous order, that could be described as obsessive, or compulsive.
Ernst put his bed back in order with the precision of a surgeon, until there was not a single fold left in the covers. They still smelled like like their previous owner, a woman with a strong perfume, but at least they were pleasing to look at. He logged back into the neural net and was instantly notified about a transmission he missed two minutes ago. To his surprise the sender of the transmission was no other than Generalministerin Nika Haupt. She wanted to talk to him in her private quarters asap. While this invitation might sound strange in a different context, her quarters doubled as her office in this case.
Fischer put on his thick-rimmed glasses, but on his beige trenchcoat and took one last look at himself in the oxidized mirror. The amount of grey hairs on his head must have doubled since he arrived on the Ostara and the skin around his mouth and his chin was irritated from shaving without water for days. Overall he looked presentable enough. He left his quarters and stepped into the humid hallway.
The distance to the quarters of Nika Haupt was not too long, but just long enough to make lesser men a little nervous. It was also required to go up one floor, which gave the positioning of the room a certain sense of importance. After passing one of the men guarding the room of the Generalministerin, Fischer stood in front of a blue door. Knocking on the door firmly some of the paint chipped off, revealing that it must have been painted in at least three different colors before it was blue.

“This is Fischer. I’m here because of your transmission.”

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