It didn't take long. Many people were hauling luggage of different sizes, carrying what they could to leave. Reading the room, you can tell that people were making haste, but without panic. Transport ships were organised by Cryer to ferry off the mixed groups of scientists, researchers, crew, families of all towards Freeport 1. Even an Albatross-Class transport that was not yet scrapped for parts was utilized to carry off people and equipment. All other pilots launched their own vessels, forming a fleet of Starflier light fighters, Cryer transports and a single Albatross. This group flew towards the south-western end of Sirius. Seeing the last ship leave, the lockdown procedure initiates and the doors slowly slide shut. Around him, not lot was left for him to keep him company.
"Is that it, sir?"
"Of course that's it. Everyone is gone. Just you, me and that group of techs."
"So what do you want us to do?"
"Keep yourselves occupied, I don't know. Check the storage tank levels for starters."
Over the last few days the remaining crew on board Starflier Base have tried to keep busy. Without visitors coming in and out, researchers buzzing around and the development wings filling the data warehouses of information, the hallways of the station have become vacant. Instead of traversing multiple hundred meters to the crew's rooms, those rooms have been emptied and all 17 beds have been relocated to a corner of the docking bay. This was to make sure everyone wasn't split up when sleep was needed. Crates were stacked around the beds as a barrier, to muffle any sounds for any light sleepers. The Dockmaster was taking a small nap at his desk, chair leaned back with feet planted straight on his terminal's screen.
"Sir, we may have a problem."
A grunt is heard and the Dockmaster's eyes open slowly.
"Why'd you wake me up? Go away."
"The techs, sir. They're... having fun."
"Having fun? Don't bother again."
"It seems they have built something, you might want to have a look."
"You do realize there's no hierarchy here, no chain of command, no supervisors. Next time, try deal with it yourself."
The chair snaps back as the dockmaster tries to grab his cold coffee. He instead accidentally pushes it off the table, shattering it against the ground. Standing there for a few seconds while he registers what happened, he takes a big breath in and sighs. The loud smash woke him up a little more, now being a little alert, he hears construction sounds coming from where the techs are usually located. The two men walk over to see three Starflier-Class light fighters facing them, one without wings and another without a cockpit shield. The front half of an Albatross-Class transport was on it's side, a couple of members taking panels off, stacking them next to a construction stand.
"Where did these beauties come from!?"
"I told you so, sir."
One tech looks over at the Dockmaster and makes his way over. He looks back at the ships, chuckles and then looks back at the two.
"We're pulling apart the transport and making our favourite ships! Luck has it that we all love the Starflier!"
"Do they fly? I'd love to get out of here. Leon won't notice us going for a few days at a time."
"He'll know, sir."
"How's that? You'll tell him?"
"That's right, sir."
"They don't fly, we don't have any spare engines. Thought to have some fun by using the parts from the Albatross to put some things together! I think we're able to make one more Starflier before we run out of materials. Then we think of something else to make."
"Can I suggest something?"
"What have you got?"
"Make something new. Modify an existing design. I'm sure you techs have ideas for a ship."
"Huh... what do you think guys? We got something in mind?"
All the techs shake their heads, not even taking a moment to stop what they're doing.
"Guess not."
"Had to try."
"So you brought me out here for ships that don't fly? Good on you. I'm gonna go back to my nap."
With him gone, the crew member sits down on a stack of Alloys and watches the techs finish off construction of the Starflier chassis.
A screen blinks in an office on the third floor of the outer ring of Starflier Base. Priority one message, the kind that has causes the terminal's light to blink purple to indicate the urgency of the message. This was 2 days ago, it continued to blink at no one. The dockmaster was found asleep at his desk by the same crew member who has been, according to the dockmaster, harassing him. Little did they know that this message was one that would end their time within the Dark Matter Storm. A quick tap on their shoulder wakes them up.
"Go away."
"No, sir."
"Go... away."
The crew member rolls his eyes, grabs the side of the dockmaster's chair and spins him around. They fall of their chair, due to being startled and groggy. The impact skips the wake up process and goes straight to being furious.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!"
A finger is raised, motioning to the nearby terminal, the light above blinking purple.
"Priority one! Now? What's going on..."
The dockmaster, kneeling infront of their desk, surprised, quickly sits back on their chair. Their fingers moved at lightspeed across the keyboard, the loading screen to login was longer than entering the 30-character password. Pressing a couple of buttons opens up the message.
![[Image: PVArGCT.png]](https://i.imgur.com/PVArGCT.png)
![[+]](/forums/images/collapse_collapsed.png "[+]")
Priority One Message![[Image: unknown.png]](https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/822422703368962058/873158933483749407/unknown.png)