EVE Fiction

His vision was a throbbing mixture of mixed colors and misshapen outlines.

The sharp, penetrating sound of a warning klaxon was the first thing to cut through the dulled senses of the half-asleep captain.

"Sir, your presence is requested on the bridge."

Stirring groggily from his mid-shift sleep cycle, Loros's hand fumbled its way to the intercom panel situated beside his bunk to initiate his reply. Constant fleet action and tactics briefings from the previous day had taken their toll on the man. The blaring claxons, he surmised, must surely have some meaning beyond a simple briefing.

"This is Loros," he said, lazily angling his mouth towards the speaker without making any measurable effort to sit up. "Disengage audio warning and stand-to, I'm on my way. Out."

With all the willpower he could muster, Loros forced himself to sit up in his bunk. Slowly, his eyes began adjusting to his surroundings, with objects becoming more clear with every passing second. There was no way he had completed a full rest cycle. He hazarded a glance at the ship-board clock.

He was right. Whatever had caused the klaxons to engage had also cost him 1.4 hours of rest.

For a moment he considered the luminescent turquoise numerals staring at him from across his quarters. Loros was not one to feel overwhelming anger or hate towards any person or object. But the holographic time-piece was one object he had no particular affection for. Still, there were apparently more pressing matters to attend to.

Slowly, he stood up from his bed and began preparations for duty. As with most ship captains, he moved with a certain deliberance but no particular urgency. Commanding a space-faring vessel during nearly any type of mission did not require incredible speed, but when dealing with astronavigation and distances measured in AU's, accuracy was essential. It seemed to Loros that time slowed to a crawl as long as he and his crew were star-side. One by one, he donned the articles of the duty uniform. Undershirt, stained with sweat and old drink. Grey blouse and trousers, with the Liandri Covenant emblem emblazoned on the left shoulder, State Protectorate emblem on the right. His rank, as indicated by the insignia on his shoulder epaulettes, Lieutenant Colonel.

"Captain, priority transmission coming in. It's the 'Valiant.'"

"Put it through in here, Ensign," Loros said dismissively. Good, he thought, let's see what they've got to say.

Lt. Colonel Loros walked to his communications console, gestured his security clearance in the air above the projector, and waited for the system to boot. Command had re-engineered the communication console system several years prior, requiring additional steps to be taken before any intelligence-centric messages could be retrieved. He had become accustomed to the lengthy procedure, but his patience for it had become thin as time wore on. Repeated requests to simplify the clearance system had fallen on deaf ears, and he along with the majority of Liandri continued to live with these over-bearing security "gates."

The dull hum of the communication console became a busy whirring, as projectors warmed and a turquoise, semi translucent log-in screen appeared in mid air, along with a virtual keypad. Loros sighed, opened a mechanical drawer at the base of the console, and removed from it a mechanical keyboard. While virtual input was reportedly the way of the future (according to fleet memorandums and propaganda), Loros had decided long ago that nothing could replace the feel of heavy-set keys under one's palm. His fingers punched several keys in rapid succession, as they had done every day for years. Being a nonstandard piece of equipment, this mechanical keyboard was one of the few secrets he kept from his higher-ups, although he wasn't entirely certain they weren't entertaining its continued use.

The turquoise entry screen vanished, replaced by a multi-colored display. This one contained transmissions and fleet-wide flashes from across all of Caldari operational space. New messages slowly began sliding into the column titled "New," flashing to attract attention. Unlike so many other pieces of equipment onboard the ship, the layout of the communique screen hadn't changed in nearly a century. Loros hoped that would remain the case for many years to come. He gestured his index finger towards the latest transmission, this one in virtual format. Loros raised an eyebrow. Video transmission weren't standard operational practice. Regardless, he'd had a fairly good idea of what was coming.

As his fingers punched the air containing the visual representation of the message, the icon expanded to fill roughly half the display. Projector fans began spinning louder, with clinking sounds of metal against metal. Video transmissions tended to demand more of the shipboard processors than other tasks.

A face appeared in the new display.

"Ah, Colonel Loros, glad to see you're still in one piece."

"General Dowosi, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Even through the pixelated transmission, Loros could see the stress in the General's face. His hair, jet black with a slight greying normally at the temples, seemed somewhat greyer than usual. His face bore clear signs of fatigue. Loros figured it was probably just the image quality.

"I figure I'd start preparations, seeing as you're already in-system," Dowosi answered. "Intelligence is reporting our initial tactical evaluation as accurate. We're looking at a resumed assault coming within the next thirty minutes. No group composition reports as of yet, but we're predicting similar numbers."

Loros grimaced. "I guess I'm not surprised. The repair crews aboard the starbase are reportedly nearing completion on repairs. Most systems should be coming online within that time period."

(Cont...)

Spectacularly written, though I'm wondering how you are going to incorporate capsuleer piloting into this. Also the Caldari had been losing horribly in the weeks prior to Asakai.