Illion
Three variants of cybernetics aboard The Marillion, and we still haven’t imploded. That means they’re probably not too harmful.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself. I managed to catch a few on my own, and after enlisting a few other crew members, we’ve set up a perimeter on the upper decks.
But two hours wasn’t enough time to purge them all, and now it’s the official boarding, so I’ll have fun dealing with the rest of it later.
3 months until the Zyxien arrive. 24 hours until our departure.
But with the upper decks off limits, it’s going to be difficult to fit about 1,500,000 people into the rest of the ship.None of the other 6 ships are allowed to take up any more people, due to ‘regulations’ from the Capitol Planets.
They didn’t want any people evacuated from the outer rim planets – but they couldn’t just let them all die. That wouldn’t look good for the politicians. So, they sent the worst equipped ships to evacuate them, (aka; my fleet), with almost no supplies.
Woke us up from cryosleep prematurely too, probably damaged us a lot; no symptoms yet, but I don’t doubt there will be some.
“We’re all set.” Lolli-N’s voice warbles through my headphones, “your wifey and her sister are buckled in.”
“Peachy.” I flick a few orange switches, and the control board lights up. “All supply shuttles lift off in ten.”
“Guess what?”
“What?”
“Aurelia’s here. In this shuttle.”
“Peachy?” I raise an eyebrow at the control panel, and push a large red button. “Shuttle lifting off in five. All systems normal.”
Lolli-N interrupts my professional vibe, “are you ready to greet her?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Not particularly.” I swipe left, and the image of our shuttle hovers over the control board. The pink holographic ship spins slowly; red dots on the back-end flash as the computer monitors the engines.
Our ships haven’t been run in over a hundred years, and I haven’t operated a small ship like this for about the same amount of time. Hopefully my fingers are still nimble, and I haven’t lost half my brain matter rotting in cryosleep.
The doctor said I should be fine.
I take a sip from the massive milkshake in my left hand and press a melon sized green button with my right.
The humming of the engines intensifies, and the familiar jerk of the landing gear retracting rattles the ship.
“Illion.” Lolli-N sounds very cross over the intercom.
“What?”
“Are you drinking a milkshake?”
“What? That’s bananas. Of course not.”
“That was the smoothest take off yet. You’re drinking milkshakes; don’t deny it.”
“It helps me concentrate.”
“The doctors said no milkshakes!” Her voice raises to a half screech, “direct orders from medical!”
“Whoopsie.” I try to sound apologetic, and quickly disconnect her com from mine so I don’t have to listen to another lecture about health and safety.
My sneakiness isn’t very good at the moment. My brain is a bit foggy from waking up so suddenly. I’m mildly concerned Lolli-N will report me to medical – and if any serious side effects should occur, they could have me temporarily removed as captain.
That would be terribly bad.
I’m the only one capable of handling The Marillion and her fleet. There was a reason they chose me!
Sure, other captains are great, but there’s just something better about me (obviously). I’m the only one in history who built an entire engine from a junior mech kit. Like, please. You can’t replace me.
Anyway, our flight to the orbiting Marilllion starts off smooth, but once we reach the stratosphere, there’s a rapid change in the engines, and the shuttle starts rattling again like a child shaking a bag of skittles.
I grab the microphone from the side of the control panel: “all crew and passengers, please hold on to your loved ones and pray hard!”
It’s doubtful we’ll actually explode and die, but it’s best to be prepared for the afterlife. Just in case.
Pulling hard at the throttle, I smash a few more buttons. The engine sputters for a second, the control board flashes; systems return to normal. For now.
I take another sip of amphetamine milkshake, breathe a sigh of relief and ease my grip.
The Marillion is directly ahead of us now, a blur of pink, blue, and yellow against the sun. It glitters in the light, like…like glitter. Pretty.
I turn a knob on the side of the control panel, and my favourite song begins to play, drowning out the monotonous beeping of the radar. Another twist of a knob, and the shuttle is on autopilot. I lean back in my seat, boots on the dash, admiring the view of my beautiful star palace.
We land within the hour. Aurelia Anique and her sister are escorted to the main reception by Lolli-N. Sure, I could have just introduced myself straight away, but first impressions are important.
And I plan to make one she’ll never forget.