Humanity Endures

Part 1 - The Expeditionary Fleet | Chapter 7

As time passed, the Expeditionary Fleet spent hours assembling itself, and as all the various ship-wide diagnostics or other relevant tasks were accomplished with ease, many members of Velan's crew gradually filtered out of the bridge. Many of these did so harboring the reasonable intent to visit the ship's bar where they could socialize and drink — a favored pastime of many across the Empire — while those who were more disciplined, or who had more self-restraint, partook of a number of things with much greater variety. Falmenec walked purposefully to his compact laboratory aboard the ship, doubtless with the intent of delving further into the newfound mystery of Light's End, while Dentor marched forth to design something arcane, or optimize something that was already sufficiently optimal. Terxah, diligent as always, remained at her post the entire time, thinking, while Ralthina left shortly after arriving to attend to some of her business interests; she had to do so quickly, before the Nemesis's entry into the Remnant cut her off from the rest of the galaxy. Kalcxikan, the Nemesis's communications officer, also had plenty of things to occupy his time — his family of nine would doubtless love to know about his ungrounding, and how he was currently venturing blindly into an erratically behaving black-hole system, for this kind of thing was exciting news to those ignorant enough to not be terrified. Having grown weary of military life, Kalcxikan was, at that moment, only a few months away from retirement. Velan's lieutenant, Xandra — a short, rather reclusive woman, whose unremarkable appearance and outright shyness betrayed what Velan deemed a powerful intellect — immediately stood from her digital desk, took care to adjust her spotless uniform, and retired to her chambers for some unknowable reason. Indeed, thanks in part to the aforesaid shyness, one never knew what she was doing, or why she was doing it — Velan had no doubt that this was intentional, though he had not the faintest idea why anyone would act in such a way without good reason. When life in the military had become so dull, socialization tended to be a frequent escape for those trapped in military service to humanity, and lieutenants were the worst-off. The role of lieutenant in the modern warship was to be a replacement officer, to occasionally interact with other captains on their captain's behalf, and to command their warship in the event of their captain's death or departure from the vessel. While a critical and prestigious post during war, in peacetime, where Velan's vessel had been grounded for over a year, and officers died only of natural causes or accidents — and rarely, even by "accidents" — the duties of lieutenant had become almost as defunct as the role of turret-operator in the age of advanced fire-control programs; Velan had nothing but pity for both of these types of people, and allowed them their quirks, if they were what kept them sane.

Velan, finding himself bored just thinking of Xandra's job, and intent on using his time productively to reinforce morale before a potentially dangerous encounter in a mysterious black-hole system, soon left the bridge to converse with and generally inspire his crew. Meandering through a corridor that connected to the Nemesis's bridge, while greeting and saluting every sailor he passed, Velan made sure to track and avoid Korthekar — the Nemesis's security chief, who was also a living, genetically engineered, violence-loving weapon — for he was the one thing Velan truly feared when on his own ship. He epitomized the sheer physical power of the "enforcer" super-soldiers more than any other one of them Velan knew. Indeed, Korthekar's brutality would have served a purpose if Velan had been able to do what executive captains were supposed to — not only would Korthekar be an exceptional asset during negotiations, where intimidation could mean a lot more than logic or the law, but he would be priceless in any possible boarding action. Nevertheless, when Velan was trapped on Earth, Korthekar, who was not known for his patience, only served to intimidate Velan. A year of being confined to the Capital Complex had not been beneficial for the morale, or sanity — if he truly had any to begin with — of the hulking titan, who seemed to only be happy when he was crushing skulls with any of his four hands, attached to his four trunk-like arms. As Velan had been stuck on Earth for well over a year, and with the Empire embroiled in one of the greatest eras of stability that it had ever known, Korthekar had been lacking a skull to crush for some time.