It was a good day. The crew's morale was elated, and the runs to Foster were going smooth. But then, the inevitable happened. On our way to the Galileo Jumphole, my ship, the Norseman, was ambushed by a rogue horde. P-38 immediatly engaged the swarm, which had a gunboat backing them up. My men moved into the battlestations, preparing for the worst. The first evasive manouver failed. The second was interrupted as well. Now we were running low on flares. I had to make a decision...
''Turn the ship 90 degrees and fire up the turrets. Let's give 'em hell boys''
The rest went in a combination of slow-motion and blur. It seemed the gunboat's razor managed to punch a hole in the hull of the Mammoth. We had no time to close the chambers surrounding it to deal with the suction. All I could do was give the order to eject using the escape pods. I had practiced this many times with the crew, though that was nothing compared to the real thing. My heart was racing, I counted the heads to make sure everyone got out. Then a large bang as the shuttles boosted out the ship. The last thing I saw was a big explosion, and pieces of the once mighty ship scattered for as far the eye could see.
''No time to look and mourn, get yourself to Foster''
A few days later, my crew and I have recovered from our wounds, and are ready to leave Foster. One of my officers managed to get himself a robotic arm, but he was glad he was still alive to go show it to his wife on Pittsburgh. Now we we're facing a new problem. We needed transportation to Baltimore, where arrangements for a new ship were being made.
It became clear another Mammoth was not going to be commissioned. It was bad news, for it meant the crew would have to be split up, and I would lose a few good men. Nonetheless, a new model DSE Camara, christened the Constellation, was ready for me at Pittsburgh.
With the help of our President, we got back to Baltimore without any complications. I gave the men a chance to take a break. Surpringly, all but my navigator, on-board engineer and my two most trusty gunmen, wished to take up on that offer. It was obvious we would set out immediatly to outfit the new vessel with the needed requirements. Requirements for more dangerous missions, to Foster Base.
''And that's the story of how the Norseman perished. I hope this old geezer didn't take too much of your precious time!''
Kenzo fills the glasses of all who are present with milk, ice cubes and a hispanic sweet liquor called Cuarenta y très. He raises his glass, and looks around to see who will follow him.
''To the Constellation, and to Deep Space Engineering!''
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