Demise

[Boss]

The flight from the New York gate to the sector determined by COMSCAN was uneventful, but tensions were high aboard ship. Once out of cruise, the engine technicians set about restoring power to the turret capacitors. With the guns on standby, she had to rely on orbiting escort craft for protection.

"Fighter Control, get me a half-wing of Upholders in a low orbit as soon as you can put a squadron of Guardians on deck. Pop those sleeping caps off the Solaris, people, I want defensive batteries online." And so the juggernaught woke up as men scrambled to prepare the vessel for any eventuality.

Upon reaching its destination, the giant hangars disgorged waves of snubcraft into defensive positions as the massive antimatter cannons ran through their paces, swinging through unlimbering arcs to check the bearings. All was good aboard the great carrier Reliant as she entered territory unknown, presumed hostile.

"COMSCAN, start your sweeps. See if you can pick up the Raleigh's engine trails. Also, see if you can raise her now that we should be closer." A chorus of "Yes, sir" met his ears, and Darryl walked back to his command console, took his seat, and waited for the first report. It wasn't long in coming.

Johnson looked up and called out "Sir, I've got something matching the Raleigh's signature. No comms yet, but we have a direction. From the looks of it, it got hit pretty hard. Pretty damn hard, if you'll pardon me, sir." Darryl nodded sharply and faced Navigation. "Lock that path in. Helm, take us in on impulse power." "Aye, sir." Hold on, Sarkovski. We're coming. We're coming.