First Light (// SCRA and invited only)

[Tomtomrawr]

February 23rd, 819A.S., 18:28 local time

By the time he arrived at the command centre, his leg was throbbing. He'd left his walking stick behind and hadn't had time to return and pick it up. Bah, he thought. It'd slow him down too much.

The command centre of Sevastopol was what Miller believed a news stations news room would look like. Monitors of every size covered all walls, showing different pictures. Live guncam images from patrols, incoming transmissions from various locations around the system, everything that needed to be shown on the monitors was shown. Even episodes of "Shoot the Fascist" were occasionally viewable.

Upon entering the command centre, there were three paths to take. Two, the left and right, led down or to the side to a number of terminals. These terminals controlled all of the operations of Sevastopol and the Shanghai. The central path led down a perfectly straight and flat line to the end, where the platform - by now several feet elevated above the lower levels with the terminals - bulbed outward to provide extra space for a chair. It was Miller's chair.

He rushed into the room, but proceeded casually down the central walkway across the shiny steel to his chair. The chair was a solid metal cube mounted on a fixed swivelling base, with the vague outline of a chair carved out of it to accommodate the commander of the station. Padding had recently been added on Miller's request.

'What's the situation?' He asked his crew as he lowered himself into his chair. The armrest was littered with various buttons of different sizes and colours, allowing him full control of the station in case the terminals were offline.

'We have an unknown transport inbound, Comrade. Dromedary class. It's broadcasting various Coalition IFFs.' The woman monitoring the sensors turned in her chair to face him. 'They're from some of the people we lost on that secret mission. The one you were on.'

For a moment, Miller was stunned. How could that be possible? It wasn't; it couldn't be true. He composed himself quickly. 'Establish a video and audio channel with the ship. Instruct two Revolutions to break off normal patrol and escort it to Sevastopol Depot. If it deviates from the course set out for it, shoot it down.'

There was no response. There didn't need to be. They knew what they needed to do. Hands became blurs over console keypads as the crew performed their assigned instructions. They were a good crew.

The central monitor, previously showing some still shots of a Storm in transit, became a static storm. It soon cleared up as the link between Sevastopol and the Dromedary was established.

'It is an honour, Commissar-Captain,' Maktu said.

// For more information on the Primusian Communists, see this thread: http://discoverygc.com/forums/index.php?sh...c=88354&hl=

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[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.

Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.