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Operation: Armada de Vitor

Raius · 3 · 14399


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Stardate 97729.3
Undocumented Mountain Range
Undocumented Continent
Undocumented Solar System
Undocumented Sector
Large Magellanic Cloud 

A jet black moustache wiggles below the optical lens of a large mobile refracting telescope, a cold polar breeze whispering around Captain de la Vega's gilded armor, barely visible under a billowing black trench coat and frosted knee-high boots.

"There!", he barks and hurriedly points to the night sky, slightly rattling the telescope, and the tripod that it stood on. The rest of the team around him shake their heads, almost in unison, albeit still writing down notes of the "point" that was being pointing to. It comes as quickly as it goes. Invisible, not due to something hidden or else in another space-time, but that nothing was actually there...yet. A place for...something. A communications relay, most likely. The solar system had yet to be named or explored. What was the being of this planet, past, present, future, neighbors, friends, fiends, what was the balance of terror in this small & ancient corner?

The team began to pack their things, and head out to a different location. The last one for the evening. The Terran Equinox had yet to be celebrated.
« Last Edit: December 12, 2020, 06:05:10 AM by Raius »


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Captain de la Vega stood at a wooden podium, esoteric symbols of Terran deep history carved throughout; dim light created a faint glow of the bronze, gold, and silver presented throughout the massive stadium. This, a crossing of thresholds, a declaration, reorganization, announcement, in that order. It would be difficult for some, sacrifices were made every day for survival now, but this was different...a sacrifice beyond the present moment or the moment thereafter.

Captain Raius Marco Antonio de la Vega, Esq., Paramount of Marrakand, Master of the Order of the Green Flame, Forger of the Terran Will, spoke succinctly.
"Captains Log complemental, Stardate 97947.25...", most of the stadium audience gently chuckled, as did the Captain before regaining his signature frown, "Comrades, we verily greet this day. Our colony grows as much as our resurgence, supplies continue to increase, and this dead world is reborn in our image, and the in image of our Creator. We stand here today, ever nearing our destiny", he peers out, examining the thousands before him, "...look around you...all you see, this place, our new order, would not have been possible without the collective effort of all present, and those not. To the assembled, and to those attending to duties elsewhere on our world, I could not have asked for a better unity.", the assembled applause while remaining seated, echoed by those pausing elsewhere for the live audio feed, "As we know all to well, however, time is an ever-tightening grip on those who do not seize the day; no matter how pious we are in this life, it is material and of temporal that requires regeneration against entropy. Our infrastructure, and those of our predecessors, will make great winds in our sails to see us to the horizon and beyond.", the Captain sighs before taking the plunge, "Many of you may reckon where this speech is heading...I have been considering our options for many days and nights, almost since we first awoke from our slumber. Upon final review with my senior staff, I have taken it upon myself to organize Project: Count Table. To expedite the state of the project, I am ordering a medical review pertaining to the state of our fertility. Male and Female shall both be examined, in the alphabetic order of their names. After reviews are concluded and passed, Counselors and various Medical specialists will advise matching. If and when matches are successful, courting will be guided by Chaplains, who will officiate mass weddings shortly thereafter. After this initial process concludes, Females will be given 12 months of shore leave, be honorably discharged from Imperial Starfleet thereafter, if they so desire, and be inducted into the Order of the Fruitful; Males will be commendated and assigned familial quarters throughout constructed and explored areas. Report to your sector's Medical Headquarters A.S.A.P. to begin evaluation. If you do not pass the initial review, you are to have your PADD authenticated by your sector's Chief Medical Officer, and report to my office. There is need of those who have only themselves to give for our Empire. Dismissed!"

The stadium soon emptied, leaving de la Vega to momentarily contemplate what had been detected on planetary sensors. A key to the stars, for sure, and a handful to get into shipshape. He swiftly headed to his offices, although upon completion they were closer to a vacation loft than a mere workspace.
« Last Edit: January 12, 2021, 05:09:11 AM by Raius »


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Stardate: 98032.08
Wright's Triumph Mountain Range
Northwestern Continent
Marrakand IV
Marrakand System
Marrakand Sector
Large Magellanic Cloud

One Meter.

That's all the facility roof was able to open. More than enough for a small team to scout whatever lay within, but it was less climactic than de la Vega had anticipated.

He led a small team, 5 women, 2 men, and a brave Akita, who began as the sun rose above the dormant volcano summit turned abandoned outpost that they were preparing to investigate; 2 Engineering, 1 Medical, 3 Science, 2 Security, 1 Tactical, in total, and the unknown ship that lay below.  The armor plating was bone-chilling, just as the air below the opened doors; it would be much easier to think on this without so much snow.

"How long has this been here?", asked de la Vega. Lieutenant Jameson answered first, "I'd say about 100 years, sir...", before she continued, the team, hound included, bowed their heads for a moment of silence. "No Terran lifesigns aboard, sir. Recommend we send a probe to the nearest deck.", "Agreed.", stated de la Vega, "...but cloaked. We don't know what's down there.", "Sir!", Jameson briefly snapped to attention and assembled a small probe, while the rest of the team began to construct a miniature heat shield to melt the snow away, and the Akita stood guard, periodically perking his ears.

"This is a saucer...", de la Vega spoke under his breath to himself, reasonably away from the rest of the team, "...the dimensions of this facility...a facility exclusively used for the maintenance this vessel over all others. Why this one?" The thought crossed his mind when the sensors picked it up, but it was fleeting. His luck could not be that bountiful...surely it could not. Could it not?

The heat shield started to hum, slowly being moved towards where the registration would be. The snow, over a few minutes, melted away. Number by number. Letter by letter.

I.S.S. Barracuda

Ensign Jonathan exclaimed, "Sir, the Barracuda!". Captain de la Vega was overtaken by emotion, dropped to his knees, and prayed. Things were...on his side. Long Live the Empire, indeed.