Crack in The Wall

[Culbrelai]

. . . Captain James Marshall , Liberty Insurgency . . .INS-Fretensis, Captain's Quarters / Omega-55 System A field of wheat - once swaying listlessly in the wind , turns to flames. A backdrop of a burning, crumbling city lies near the horizon. The soft touch of a lover caresses the skin, before fading away... An alarm blares A grizzled man with a greying, patchy beard shoots up from his slumber, drenched in sweat. He rubs his eyes, digging his knuckles into his forehead in frustration like he'd done so many nights before. Get out of there, damn you. He shakes it off, stands and gazes out of his cabin's window, at the Fretensis's escort, the Justicar, and then his eyes list into the endless abyss of the nebula. It is another unremarkable day in a seemingly endless chain of unremarkable days. It has been some time since we've heard from anyone whom does not want us in prison - or at the wrong end of a blaster. The intercom opens, and the captain is shaken back to reality "Sir, I am sorry to disturb you but you may want to have a look at this." the Comms officer, Lt. Shepherd, sputters out in between crackles of interference. I take the long walk to the bridge - this had better be good. The captain makes his way through the labyrinthian maze of sparse corridors, the interconnecting crew accommodations, passing sealed bulkhead doors leading to parts of the ship now no-longer in service, which once bustled with crewmen going about the days business. He eventually arrives at the bridge. "What is the situation, Lieutenant?" He points at the screen - The Captain looks over the Lieutenant's shoulder at the console - an incoming transmission on a secure frequency once designated for priority messages from High Command.

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#NotMySNAC