Will Richard Save the Day on his Day Off? You Decide!
You walk through the station, feeling relaxed in the knowledge that for today at least, you have nothing to do but relax. The interior of the station has the look of pretty much every other military space station you've been in: stark, sterile, white.
Eventually your meanderings take you to a large observation room and lounge. You use your earnings from your meager salary to buy some ten year old scotch; barely aged enough to be anything more than old moonshine. You take your drink and settle into a plush chair facing the wall of windows looking out on space. Against the background of stars you can see the sun rising over the planet you've been scouting recently. When flying over it in a glider it's just an ugly grey pile of rock and sand, but from here it appears almost beautiful.
"Little early for the hard stuff, isn't it?"
Startled, you look up to see Peter. You were so busy enjoying the sunrise and scotch you didn't even notice your roommate/copilot sit next to you.
"Somewhere on that planet down there it's late enough," you say, taking another sip. "So what are you doing here?"
"I have the day off just like you, which is why I'm on the station. If you mean what am I doing in this room specifically, I'm trying to avoid Jake. The guy's my friend, but he can be a real pain sometimes, y'know?"
"Hm," you grunt in acknowledgment and take another sip, eyes still on the window.
"Hey, you hear the latest rumour going around? I hear that things have been heating up around the Polaris System and a lot of the armada has been sent there to secure the region, leaving us to virtually fend for ourselves. A guy I know in Intelligence says that the enemy could try to break through the front line and come for us."
"Whatever," you reply, finishing your scotch. "What would they want with us?"
"Well," Peter continues, obviously getting excited, "If they manage to seize this station not only would it be a big morale boost for them, it would also give them a foothold in this quadrant. I'm telling you, there's an attack right around the corner that we can't handle, and Brass isn't telling us anything because they're worried that we'll all mutiny or desert or something."
"You're getting all worked up over nothing," you say, looking sadly at your empty glass. You call over a nearby server and order breakfast.
"Listen," Peter replies as the server brings you some unidentifiable gruel and coffee, "if there was an attack soon the enemy would probably have some forward scouts around here. I say we take our glider and go out looking for them. We can say we're just volunteering for more reconnaissance. What do you say?"
Eventually your meanderings take you to a large observation room and lounge. You use your earnings from your meager salary to buy some ten year old scotch; barely aged enough to be anything more than old moonshine. You take your drink and settle into a plush chair facing the wall of windows looking out on space. Against the background of stars you can see the sun rising over the planet you've been scouting recently. When flying over it in a glider it's just an ugly grey pile of rock and sand, but from here it appears almost beautiful.
"Little early for the hard stuff, isn't it?"
Startled, you look up to see Peter. You were so busy enjoying the sunrise and scotch you didn't even notice your roommate/copilot sit next to you.
"Somewhere on that planet down there it's late enough," you say, taking another sip. "So what are you doing here?"
"I have the day off just like you, which is why I'm on the station. If you mean what am I doing in this room specifically, I'm trying to avoid Jake. The guy's my friend, but he can be a real pain sometimes, y'know?"
"Hm," you grunt in acknowledgment and take another sip, eyes still on the window.
"Hey, you hear the latest rumour going around? I hear that things have been heating up around the Polaris System and a lot of the armada has been sent there to secure the region, leaving us to virtually fend for ourselves. A guy I know in Intelligence says that the enemy could try to break through the front line and come for us."
"Whatever," you reply, finishing your scotch. "What would they want with us?"
"Well," Peter continues, obviously getting excited, "If they manage to seize this station not only would it be a big morale boost for them, it would also give them a foothold in this quadrant. I'm telling you, there's an attack right around the corner that we can't handle, and Brass isn't telling us anything because they're worried that we'll all mutiny or desert or something."
"You're getting all worked up over nothing," you say, looking sadly at your empty glass. You call over a nearby server and order breakfast.
"Listen," Peter replies as the server brings you some unidentifiable gruel and coffee, "if there was an attack soon the enemy would probably have some forward scouts around here. I say we take our glider and go out looking for them. We can say we're just volunteering for more reconnaissance. What do you say?"