Senior Lieutenant Dimitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov leaned back in his chair, boredly sipping his cup of cold oil while looking at the screens inside the main Armoured capsule housing himself and the small crew of 10 Worker drones under him. KIF Mochalivi had made good progress in its expedition thus far. Though, as of yet, all they'd discovered were empty sectors with no signs of life. Perfect for future expansion, but immensely dull to the young commander. Over the course of days, they traveled from one to the next, mining the occasional asteroid using the ship's mining lasers. The Razborka drone occupied the time by humming to himself on the odd occasion, idly checking his weapons, or playing sim games using one of several headsets on board. When on duty, he sat in the bridge, watching the scanners. "Hopefully this next sector will host something more promising."
"I'm sure it will be, Your Excellency." Came the cheerful reply of the his second in command, Petty Officer Vlad Fyoderov, as he flipped the switches that would return them to realspace. Yet, if he'd only known how right he would be, as the Bystryy Class Prospector exited hyperspace, only to find itself face to face with a fleet of ships sitting above a green planet in the distance. Both their eyes could only widen as several approached their small craft.
Dimitri leapt up, nearly knocking his cup over and damaging the table in the process. "Vlad, plot a course to get us out of here if need." He commanded as the drone offered a salute before doing as ordered. Next, he opened the internal comms. "All crew to battlestations, all crew to battlestarions!" Of course, he knew it wouldn't do much good, as the single chain gun mounted near the front would obviously not be enough to stop anything short of small craft. But, all the same, the metallic thudding of drones filled the ship as they awoke from sleep mode and occupied their positions.
"Course set, Your Excellency." Vlad interjected as the Senior Lieutenant nodded before opening the comms in hopes of avoiding the destruction of his ship. After all, while it would be highly unlikely for the crew to be harmed due to where they were located, he didn't want to risk being stranded in unfriendly territory waiting for a rescue that could possibly never come.
With all the preparations complete, Dimitri muttered a silent prayer as he pushed the "All channels" button on the comms. "Это старший лейтенант Дмитрий Сергеевич Ярославов, командир разведывательного судна КИФ «Мочаливи» 9-го Копперовского флота. С кем я разговариваю?" (This is Senior Lieutenant Dmitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov, commander of the KIF Mochalivi reconnaissance vessel of the 9th Copper Fleet. Who am I speaking to?)
"I'm sure it will be, Your Excellency." Came the cheerful reply of the his second in command, Petty Officer Vlad Fyoderov, as he flipped the switches that would return them to realspace. Yet, if he'd only known how right he would be, as the Bystryy Class Prospector exited hyperspace, only to find itself face to face with a fleet of ships sitting above a green planet in the distance. Both their eyes could only widen as several approached their small craft.
Dimitri leapt up, nearly knocking his cup over and damaging the table in the process. "Vlad, plot a course to get us out of here if need." He commanded as the drone offered a salute before doing as ordered. Next, he opened the internal comms. "All crew to battlestations, all crew to battlestarions!" Of course, he knew it wouldn't do much good, as the single chain gun mounted near the front would obviously not be enough to stop anything short of small craft. But, all the same, the metallic thudding of drones filled the ship as they awoke from sleep mode and occupied their positions.
"Course set, Your Excellency." Vlad interjected as the Senior Lieutenant nodded before opening the comms in hopes of avoiding the destruction of his ship. After all, while it would be highly unlikely for the crew to be harmed due to where they were located, he didn't want to risk being stranded in unfriendly territory waiting for a rescue that could possibly never come.
With all the preparations complete, Dimitri muttered a silent prayer as he pushed the "All channels" button on the comms. "Это старший лейтенант Дмитрий Сергеевич Ярославов, командир разведывательного судна КИФ «Мочаливи» 9-го Копперовского флота. С кем я разговариваю?" (This is Senior Lieutenant Dmitri Sergeievich Yaroslavov, commander of the KIF Mochalivi reconnaissance vessel of the 9th Copper Fleet. Who am I speaking to?)
