Humanity Endures

Part 1 - The Expeditionary Fleet | Chapter 5

The deafening roar of approval Velan heard in response could be heard in adjacent moorings, such was its thunderous intensity. His mind surging with adrenaline and his body shaking with anticipation, Velan, after ordering his crew to start packing, began to daydream about what fame he would receive for being the first military ship to explore the system, doubtless hours before the Military Council threw together a fleet and arrived in force. Indeed, he was surprised that none had done what he intended to do already; whatever the case, he was not disappointed by others' measured restraint. His name would be forever etched into the hallowed annals of history, he thought. He thought this, until his thoughts were interrupted by a priority textcomm-borne order from the office of the Military Council itself, a textcomm directed towards captains across all systems in his entire quadrant of the galaxy, even if they were one of the more autonomous "executive captains," as Velan was. The order compelled its recipients to cease doing whatever they were doing, and instead rendezvous at a point just above Earth's atmosphere, where they would be placed under the personal command of the Prime Admiral Terilan himself. The expeditionary fleet that the admiral was leading was to explore and quarantine Light's End, which had officially been designated a restricted area of space to all the galaxy the moment that Velan received the message. Velan realized in that loathsome moment that the damnable order condemned him to be yet another captain in a millions-strong fleet as it went to investigate in force; if he were to go and investigate Light's End by himself then, the only thing waiting for him would a court-martial, rather than the fame and glory he had dreamt of. There was nothing to be personally gained from venturing to the system as part of a millions-strong fleet, though he and his crew were still risking their lives, but, even for an executive captain, orders were orders. Velan's job was to perform them well, not to agree with them.

While the Council's decision was a sensible one — whatever great threat lay in the system, it made sense to approach it in force rather than allowing a trickle of enterprising ships to potentially get themselves killed — this decision did thoroughly confound Velan's attempt to make his name known, and contribute to sciences in the process. Cursing loudly, Velan then broke the news to his equally disappointed crew; many of them followed his example, filling the air with vigorous expletives, before they were ordered by Velan to continue packing. Their only clear chance at fame having been taken, many crew members were upset, and none more-so than Velan, though the latter still intended to be on time: he soon asked Terxah to deploy and manage the ship's drone complement to expedite the task of loading. Even if Velan was to be part of an impossibly large fleet and even if he was to lose out on all the potential fame because of that, he could at least arrive at the rendezvous early, if only so that he could leave the Capital Complex sooner.

Due to how he had ensured his ship was almost entirely combat-ready before the recent crisis had even begun, Velan was confident that he would arrive while the rest of the fleet was still scrambling to get its ships packed — an entertaining, yet somewhat sad truth that reflected partially on the state of Earth's planetary armada. It was hard to imagine that such a situation had arisen when all in this armada were professional soldiers: with much of the Empire's vast population also being part-time reservists in the military, those who were full-time soldiers or sailors were generally expected to embody the profession, and execute their duties with both skill and speed. Naturally, asking an Earther to do anything with skill and speed was a foolish endeavor, but Velan, who committed himself wholly to his noble profession, had idealistically clung to the now-dashed hope that Earth's military could at least mobilize quickly. Chief among his worries now was the idea that spending so much time in Earth may have made him soft, though Velan suspected that Light's End would give him ample opportunity to prove otherwise.

Time passed, though the packing went swiftly; unlike most other captains relegated to the Capital Complex, who in peacetime left their ships completely bare of munitions and other supplies, Velan had ensured that nearly all of his ship's necessary munitions, fuel, and other resources — save the particularly volatile ones — were already onboard. This was done to ensure both combat readiness and also to guarantee that, when he was eventually allowed to leave Earth, he would be able to do so almost immediately. Due to his forethought, and because of the Nemesis's inordinately helpful complement of loading drones, the ship was ready to finally leave the Capital Complex within a mere hour. Needless to say, the impatient Velan ordered his vessel to do so the moment the last of his crew arrived — Ralthina, her form exuding ruthlessness, her garb exuding opulence, and her demeanor exuding class, was the very last person to arrive at Velan's warship. A tall, imposing, and powerful woman, Ralthina may have been mistaken for a Tekran if it were not for her eyes being a piercing blue, rather than a royal purple. Velan noted that she wore a gold-encrusted black business outfit that was as stylish as it was intimidating; her military uniform was loosely held in her left hand as she clambered aboard, though he realized that she likely had no intention of putting the thing on, even when she had the time to do so. Looking at the sort of attire that she owned, and how well she wore it, Velan understood well her lack of inclination to don a comparatively bland soldier's uniform — this standardized uniform was one of the last holdouts of practicality that the Earth's regular military possessed.