3rd of Springtide, 739 N.E.
Atlas Class Battle Cruiser
Nandinia Onyx Fleet
Section 3, Subfleet B
CO Admiral Lucian Periid
Power levels are currently running at emergency level. Engineers are currently attending to minor repairs suffered from the TS jump. All readings show functionality of the ship at large to be hovering at 98.8%. Slight damage with the engine.
All other ships assigned to Mercaion are accounted for. Roster attached to CNS Polyphony log.
Operation Vigilant Sky is all according to plan.
“How much damage did the engine suffer, Polus?”
“Only minor holes and dents. Shouldn’t take long to fix. I’m surprised Persephone survived her first trip through Peripheral Cantarri.”
“The shipwrights of the Periphery are the most dependable in the galaxy. See to it that all repairs are made.”
“Roger, Admiral Periid.”
The screen collapsed Polus’ face into the darkness, and Lucian pulled his head upright. Desmus was not too far now, and yet he could only catch a fraction of it behind the stalwart Polyphony that obscured his view.
Desmus, an insignificant speck of the Mercaion. At least, that was what Lucian saw it as. He saw no reason to send an entire fleet when Cantarri is collapsing into civil war. Lucian believed he should have led a blockade to defend the Cantarri star system. Admiral Thorian’s words bounced through his head:
“Desmus will become a strategic advantage for us—”
“What advantage will it be if our current bases are torn apart by Central Cantarri?”
“We have enough ships defending the capital to prevent any assault against the Periphery.”
“But we are largely outnumbered by the Capital’s military force. They can decimate us right now if they wanted to.”
“That will be a risk I am willing to take. They will not attack us...not yet.”
“If you are that sure, then we’ll see how Central Cantarri will manage without me.”
Lucian, although skeptical of the mission, did not hesitate to fly his newly built Persephone through the Periphery. Desmus was so close to Central Cantarri, and immensely far from the Geris Fiefdoms that used to be his home. He lived meagerly with his wife and son, whose photo is perched upon his seat in the command room. He abhorred the peaceful, impecunious lifestyle of the Fiefdoms, and dreamt of commanding his own ship for Cantarri. Thorian was the man who brought his family to Peripheral Cantarri, becoming the most prospective to become an admiral to the separatist cause. He continues to look back on his life with pride.
Persephone was still approaching Desmus. Lucian checked the ship’s star maps to estimate its time of arrival. It was maybe another hour or so before they would land. Another hour, before he could see his family’s faces again, after they left him for catching himself within the war. Deep in thought, Lucian was snapped out of his daze by the turbulence beneath him. He decided to check on the engine status. With the click of a button, Polus’ face appeared on the screen in front of him.
“Polus? What was that turbulence about?” He asked.
“Uh, just a couple wrenches on the exhaust. Nothing to worry about, repairs are almost all complete,” Polus replied with an inflection of uncertainty in his voice.
“Thank you, Polus,” Lucian turned off the screen, and left towards the engine room to see the damage for himself.