>Normally there was a small welcoming committee to welcome every ship into
>Sapcedock. Usually it was just some nameless fleeter from the Harbor
>Master, or the like, to welcome those aboard and to see to the station
>side part of docking. This time, however, there were seriously armed
>station security. Behind them were folks from sickbay to take the South
>Hampton folks to get checked out. Behind them stood Bedru's personal aide
>to brief her on recent events. There was no one to take bags or to
>provide directions. This was not the warm welcoming place it was when
>they left. Now, it was an orbiting fortress recovering from an attack.
As Steven stepped back onto the decks of Spacedock, the feeling hit like
a ton of bricks that there was something seriously wrong. It wasn't just
the tight security, or even the far-less-than festive reception.
'In fact,' Steven thought to himself. 'Someone totally lacking ANY empathy
at all, special skills or otherwise, could tell something terrible had
happened recently AND that something was continuing to go wrong.'
He watched as Admiral Bedru was met by two people, one of whom left shortly
afterwards, and he turned away as the meeting seemed to turn into a
private reunion of sorts.
Shoving down the twinge of pain he knew he'd have to deal with later,
he approachded the nearest Security person he could find.
"Permission to come aboard?" He asked.
"Permission granted, Commander. Welcome back to Spacedock.", answered the Lt.
{what now, CMDR?}
Co-GM of Spacedock
GM of JSOC
Characters:
Adm. Samuel Lasiter, RAdm. Markus Garibaldi, and a host of others.
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