Prospect, Unfinished Mega City
Dell hates this ship.
If the Providence flies like a steel block under planetside conditions, then this ‘spacecraft’ flies like a cathedral bursting at the seams with steel blocks. It’s slow to respond and hard for Dell to see where he’s directing said cathedral. While he’ll admit that perhaps things will become easier to account for the more he flies this ship, he longs to return to flying the Providence. For now, he’s stuck white knuckling the controls of a vessel that really wants to faceplant into the ground.
The ship passes over the rolling hills and moores, eventually beginning its approach to the city proper. As soon as he took off from Mr. Hayes’ manor, he was given a flight path and told not to deviate from it. Dell had decided it was best not to argue with the ex-exec with dead looking eyes and guides the ship along the chosen route: up and around the city, allowing it to approach it from the north. The winds from the sea buffet the ship’s starboard side, making him feel like the whole craft was leaning left.
The approach to the city makes it seem even more desolate than when seen from a distance. The true scale of it makes its empty status even more perplexing and frustrating. The amount of time, money and manpower put behind this project is staggering to think about. The city could house nearly seven million souls, and had all the infrastructure and amenities necessary for them to live in it.
In the low light of morning, the thousands of homes along the neat and angular streets can barely be seen in the immense shadows cast by the skyscrapers that rise up in each district of the city. These skyscrapers were docks meant to house starships; instead, all of them sit lifeless and empty, Dell able to see clean through them all, save for one.
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It rises up in the fog, its lights barely piercing the coastal gloom. There he can see ships darting to and from there. If he understood things correctly from the locals, that’s the only part of Prospect City you can land without being ripped apart by security drones. Although according to those same locals it’s not exactly the safest place either.
As he follows the flight path Dell sees a scar running through the untouched city: a trail of debris and the telltale signs of ammonia fires here and there along the path. At its apex, Dell spots the burnt and scarred hulk. The large engine block of the freighter has yellowish flames dancing out of its ruined ion engines. The nose of the ship has pierced clean through an apartment complex, the ship itself just barely below the roof of the four story building it landed in. Dell can see the shipping company’s logo on the side, a lightning bolt connecting two stars, barely poking out from underneath a pile of rubble. Dell looks over it, bemusement manifesting in a simple: “Hmm.”
“Hmm?” Domitia returns the hum.
“Think I found our ship.” Dell says, pointing with his tail.
Domitia leans over Dell, looking over the ruins of the vessel, “So that’s the Stormrunner.”
“What’s left of it anyway.”
“Quite the fate, huh?’” Domitia asks.
“Something like that.” Dell says.
“Your destination is on your left.” The ship’s locator chimes in.
“Can it.” Dell barks at it.
“Bring us down, somewhere we can approach with some decent cover.” Domitia says.
“Right... Working on that.”