I am by no means a grammatical expert...so disregard any errors and enjoy.
Amidst the darkness of space, the Tarask Class Merchant Vessel, Hamel's Gambit, drifts deeper and deeper into the abyssal void. It's halls, dark and dank, seemingly devoid of life. lone, mechanical, humanoid beings wander the halls, silently patrolling the Ship for any possible instances of malfunction. In the Hanger, massive transport vessels and Cargo Landers lay docked and dormant, sleeping beasts that patiently wait to be awoken. A crisp film of moisture blankets the cold steel of the crafts, fuel and oil leak from their massive Engines and a thick fog of condensation wraps around the windshields of the cockpits.
Suddenly, a blaring alarms shatters the silence and coats the halls with a bright, pulsating, red, glow. A loud, deep, resonating, voice roars into the intercom system.
"Get yours ass's up lads and ladies!" the deep, baritone, voice shouts. The interior of the Ship is suddenly engulfed with light as the fluorescent bulbs above the halls snap to life. The halls and quarters are swarmed with bodies as the Crew of the Ship rush to perform their duties. Officers march down the corridors screaming orders and preparing the crew for the day.
"We are currently experiencing severe malfunctions to our Thrusters and our Servitors are doing a piss poor job of repairing them! You know what that means people, get to it!" the deep voice bellows once more. Lucas leaps out of his cot and stumbles towards the Vanity cabinet in the corner of his Quarters, gazing into the mirror in a half conscious gaze. Twisting the the knob of the faucet, Lucas cups his hands, filling them with brisk, murky, water and proceeds to splash the liquid upon his face in an attempt to rid his drowsiness. Suddenly, a tall, slender bodied, Officer stormed into Lucas' quarters.
"What do we have here? A deckhand pampering himself? You trying to impress someone you swampy Rat!?" the Officer's demeanor secreted arrogance, Lucas could tell that this man was just some pompous, brat, probably the son of some Noble somewhere on some backwater Planet. Lucas stretched his back and jerked his torso left to right, popping out the kinks from his slumber. With each passing second, the Officer's patience thinned, Lucas knew this pretentious brat wouldn't pull his LasPistol on him, so Lucas decided to test this man-child, a very wrong decision. As soon as Lucas stretched his jaw to yawn, he was violently shoved into the wall with the officers elbow dug deep into his throat, limiting his oxygen intake.
"You listen here, you'd better fall in line or I'll make you fall in line! As soon as I release my grip on you, you're going to grab your kit and report to the Engineering Department for duty, do you understand that, scum?" the Officer's face was within inches of Lucas', the Officers deep panting blasting Lucas' face. Lucas gritted his teeth but ultimately accepted defeat. With what little air was left in his lungs he uttered;
"Yes, Sir." the Officer released his grip and shoved Lucas out the door of his Quarters and proceeded to follow him closely until Lucas made his way into the cramped elevating platform which led down to the Engineering Department. Upon reaching the Engineering Department, Lucas was approached by a tall, broad shouldered man.
"About damn time you got here, what took you so long my friend?" his deep voice beckoned.
"How goes it, Mathias, my apologies, got caught up with one of the Security Officers, a real piece of work, man" Lucas responded, massaging his own throat, trying to relieve the pain brought on to him by the Officer.
"Yeah, I bet it was Officer Galaway, he is indeed a real piece of work, too good for the Imperial Navy I suppose!" Mathias laughed, Lucas followed suit.
This is an introductory part of a three part series I'm planning on making, I'd love to see what you guy's think of it so far, so leave your thoughts down below
