Aboard the Odysseus, Emily had found her way to the observation deck, datapad in hand. Not even the glimpses she caught from the windows on her way could really prepare her for what she bore witness to. Earhart. Serene, deadly, yet with an underlying beauty that she could appreciate through the swathes of debris and radiation.
Emily tried to write some notes on what she saw, but found herself failing to capture the true elegance of the pocket of uncharted space that was temporarily where she lived. The pad found its place laid on the floor, while the newest recruit of the Consortium took in what she could. The structures gave her more questions, questions that’s have to wait.
And there within distant view was the Dreamscape. A battered shell of its former glory, but there. Intact. At least, at the moment. Radiation had worn her integrity down, and the collisions of debris had taken its toll, but she was still there, in relatively one piece. A tremor danced up Emily’s spine. This, this moment. This is what she was here for. Returning the Consortium’s long lost pride and joy home. There wasn’t a moment to waste. She tapped a comms panel connecting the observation deck to the bridge:
“Observation to bridge, Emily here. Eyes on her, port side, ten O’clock. Where do you need me to be?”
Every second felt an eternity, but the response came through.
