Wayward

Darkness Pierced

        The dark veil of space twisted and turned on a sub-level as a trans-luminal object burst forth into the wisps and outstretched maw of a nebula. On its side reads UP-T-204427 U.P.S. Ragnus. The usually white, black, and grey ship glowed a bright, luminescent white as it transitioned into real space, eventually reflecting the purplish hue of dust from the dead star that cast itself into the reaches of hundreds of other star systems. 

        The system that the Ragnus had just entered, though, was different from all of the other systems that this nebula harbored. It was different in a way that no one on the Ragnus or anyone else knew. For from what they could see, as the order was given to set a course for orbit of the fourth planet, was that it was just another desolate world, teaming with the remains of whatever super-power that once ruled this now long dead galaxy. 

     At least it seemed that way, but for now that was the last thing on everyone's mind, especially the engineering corps keeping the Trans-Luminal Core stable, and it was this core that was the heartbeat of the ship sustaining the shields that were quickly disposing of the radiation field the ship was currently in. 

     This engineering corps was regarded by many as the best in the entire Terran Navy branch, and it was all headed by a newly promoted Lieutenant Commander, one Tiberius Frazier, or Tib, as most people called him. Tib, 24, had just been transferred from the Carolina UP-T-74119, and had barely anytime to adjust to Admiral Maxwell's flagship, let alone say proper goodbyes to friends he had on the Carolina, but he did find enough time to bring his collection of relics. 

     It was funny to Tib that things had turned out the way his nostalgic memorabilia had once dreamed of, but he had no time to dwell on that now. "Tib, make sure the new Core is handling well, we can't get a new chief engineer as easily all the way out here," said Admiral Maxwell through the ships interlinked comms. The thought of what had happened to the Ragnus's old chief was a gruesome one, stabilizing a core is a difficult task, and space is a very unforgiving, cruel place. But Tib, although younger, had more experience on this newer generation of Trans-Luminal Core than her. "No Sir, the Core shouldn't be a problem at all," Tib said with an almost tangible confidence. 

     Tib was confident, extremely confident, and he had every right to be, because this was the core he had grown studying and the same model used on the Carolina. Tib found his mind wondering on a fact brought about by the thought of his old ship. The fact that Maxwell had made his flagship for the new Triangulum Project the Ragnus. Not to put the ship down though, she was once the experimental version of one the most prominent backbone classes of the fleet, and Tib had seen these ships absolutely dominate opponents if captained well. He still wondered, however, why not a storied ship like the Carolina or Triumph? Maybe it was that gritty, old-fashioned way the Admiral carried himself in? "You know, Kateline was a good friend of mine, Tib," said Maxwell, breaking Tib's train of thought, "and so far you've done a tremendous job, I'm sure she wouldn't have had it any other way."  "She was my friend too, Sir," said Tib, who had been trying not to think about the whole situation, "we studied together, had a fling back in the Academy even." "That so?", questioned the Admiral, with an honest interest. "Yes, Sir, and if you don't mind, Sir, I'd like to get back to the job at hand to keep us all from ending up like Kae," quipped back Tib, clearly agitated.  

     Tib was glad as his wrist comm chirped subtly signifying a quiet ending of the conversation by Maxwell. Of course, Tib was proud of being promoted, he was the youngest to get the so called "Ring of Sol," well, as far as humans are concerned, but it was bittersweet. The instrument panels in front of him seemed distant as memories came to Tib, memories he very quickly pushed out. "Tib, you ok?," a voice said that sounded close in the cavernous and vast engineering deck. The question came from a familiar face, which were far too uncommon for the introverted Tib, since he had only been the Ragnus's chief engineer for a few weeks at most. "Yeah, Lark, I'm doing just fine," Tib forced out. "Well since that's the case why don't you take the time to actually meet some of your crew?," Lark said with an almost sadistic tone. 

     She was right though, Tib barely knew the names of half of his new engineering corps and even then, had only conversed with maybe a dozen of those. "Fine, Lark," Tib begrudgingly said, glancing at one of the master status icons and then a view monitor, "this reactor won't go critical for another hundred years at that level, plus it looks like good old Max has found another one of these mysteries were out here for," Tib said turning his gaze to meet Lark's. "I guess heading out and actually socializing wouldn't hurt too much, but if anything breaks, you're fixing it Ms. Calot," Tib continued with a tinge of defeat. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Tibby," Lark chirped with a smirk, "come on now, I hear the chef on Deck 45 is trying his hand on some Orion dishes." As Tib followed Lark to the closest lift, he couldn't shake the feeling that this ship was cursed, or at least its engineers were.