Destiny

[jammi]

An hour later I found myself at the spaceport once more. Another Armoured Transport awaited me, this time with Bretonian heraldry painted on the side. It was the Eastbourne according to the name emblazoned across its flanks.

As I boarded the ship I caught one last glimpse of the baleful New Berlin sun. After that the door was sealed and I was bathed in artificial light. I was escorted by the Detective up to the bridge where a pale looking man with lank greasy hair which clung to his forehead waited. He was probably in his mid twenties. I took him to be the ships captain, considering the lack of other staff.

He held out a frail looking hand to shake. I had a sudden compulsion to snap one of his stick-like fingers, just to observe his reaction. In order to preserve my deceptive facade, I grasped his hand and shook. I made a mental note to wash my hands at the first opportunity.

Good morning Mr Aldridge. Im Paul Smith, and I run the Eastbourne. Technically Bowex owns and operates this ship, but the BPA own it on a lease basis. Well be heading to Cambridge after a brief stop at Bonn Station to take on supplies and crew. A Rhienland fighter escort of three Valkaries will be accompanying us as far as the jump gate to Omega 3 from Omega 7. In Omega 3 well RV with either BAF or BPA fighters cover. Is that to your liking sir? I nodded and looked around the bridge.

It appeared to be well maintained, with various data banks humming and screens reeling off detailed statistics on something to do with the ship. Smith took a seat at the helm and pressed a few buttons, probably activating the auto-pilot. The ship lurched as it angled upwards towards the docking ring, something I watched with trepidation through the fore view screen.

Eventually we broke loose from the atmosphere, and the inky black nothingness of space embraced us.

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