Damian stared at the screen in front of him and felt the temperature in his blood begin to plummet. He had been expecting a call sooner or later, knowing without a doubt that things would eventually take a turn for a worse. Now it was time to learn how bad things had become, though he dreaded answering the request for the conference call on the screen. He lifted his hand to press on the caller's name to accept the call but halted his hand mid-air when he saw that it was trembling.
He had begun to connect the name "Zane Knight" with bad news ever since he was little, and now that his name was displayed on the screen Damian knew that he would once again be the receiver of distressing news.
He remembered the first major time Zane had delivered bad news to him, it was when he was only ten years old. Zane's face had appeared on the screen, his nose much too large for his face, his chest sticking out to proudly show off his brand new red uniform. He was probably one of the youngest people to be promoted to the control room- the place on a spaceship where the brightest and most diligent crew members controlled every aspect of the ship; he being only seventeen years old.
Zane had peered down his eagle-like nose towards him, his expression grim. He stated the message in monotone and quick to the point, much too proud to be seen expressing any emotions no matter the message. "Mum is dead."
Damian hadn't believed the message at first, but as his older brother continued to explain, laying out all of the cold facts of the case, he had no choice but to accept the veracity of the harsh statement. Ever since that point he had dreaded answering calls from Zane, registering him as the ultimate bearer of devastating news.
His suspicions had always proven correct. They had both grown up to be very bright individuals, Zane rising quickly through the ranks as Damian chose to specialize in something that would not get him any titles as his brother had, and both of them were brilliant at what they did.
Zane had never called to check up on his younger brother and only reached for contact when something had gone terribly wrong. He had recognized Damian's talent for solving his problems early on, though he hated on calling on his younger brother for help because of his severe pride. When things became too difficult for him to handle Damian would always be the one he would call on.
Damian stared questioningly at his trembling hand, wondering why he was having such an adverse reaction to his brother's call. He had long grown accustomed to Zane's requests; always beginning with something drastic- a war has started, there has been a nuclear explosion- before a desperate plea for help. Though he had always expected such tragic news at every call, he had never had such a reaction as this and he hadn't even learned what the problem was this time.
Something inside of him told him that this problem was much bigger and much worse than anything he had ever faced before. He pressed the name on the screen and quickly lowered his hands onto his lap where they would not be seen as the call was answered.
His brother's face filled the screen, his steely grey eyes peering down his overly-large nose towards him. His chest was puffed out as he stood with his back ramrod straight; his natural proud stance that made the silver color of his uniform seem to shine ever brighter. Though his eyes shone fiercely Damian could see the gauntness in his expression; his lips forming a thin line, his eyes sunk in, the lines across his forehead a permanent crease. He must be in a very desperate position in order to look so stressed, Damian mused.
Damian rested his head back against the seat as the shuttle he was in blasted away from the main ship towards his new destination. He slowly let out a deep breath, trying to relax his tense muscles and stop the slight tremor that still remained in his hands though it had been a few hours since he had received the conference call.
His suspicions had been correct; his body somehow anticipating the drastic news. He had been hailed with the worst possible situation his brother had ever asked him to fix, the problem so severe that he was unsure if he was even capable of fixing it.
He was on his way to a privately run spaceship- his shuttle wouldn't be able to take him all the way where he needed to go, so instead he had to hitch a ride on this spaceship. His brother had assured him that he would be placed in good hands and that the captain would be able to be filled in on all of the details. He wasn't sure of what to think of that, as a rule he generally worked alone, but in this situation he realized he was a bit out of his depth. He speculated on the type of person the captain would have to be in order to agree to take on this daunting task and whether or not they would be able to be trusted.
Damian passed through the large spacecraft with relative ease. Apparently his arrival had been announced, as the crew members mainly ignored him and let him walk where he wanted and no one had confronted him on his arrival. He continued forwards down the long hallways and was a bit astounded at the sheer size of the spaceship. It was huge, much bigger than any ship he had ever been on. When he had arrived he had found a large map painted on the side of the hangar wall, though it did no justice to the range of the large ship. He had studied it until he had determined how to make it to the bridge, one of the highest levels at the forefront of the ship, but now as he walked he realized it would take him a while to get there. According to the map his location was on the side of the ship in one of the lower levels.
He had no idea who the captain was. He figured that the captain was a humanoid of sorts, as most of the crew here were humanoids that he had seen. He didn't know much about the ship at all, except for the fact that it was capable of handling delicate missions covertly and with expertise, exactly the sort of thing he required for his mission. He was a bit put down by the size of the ship, it wouldn't be able to pass unnoticed as he had requested. He shuffled the duffle bag on his shoulder and pressed onwards, noticing how he stood out from his surroundings like a sore thumb.
The crew members were all different shapes and sizes and races from several different planets. But there were several things about them that were the same. All of their uniforms were the same, black pants and belt and long sleeved shirts, though the shirts varied in color according to station. The few crew members he had passed in the hangar wore bright orange shirts. There were also green, red, yellow, and assumingly several other colors as well. Another thing that was similar among all of the crew members were that they all walked with a purpose, and from the doors he peered into he could see that all of them were working diligently. How could every person he see be working so hard? That type of devotion to their work was impossible to achieve anywhere else. He saw nobody meandering around or looking as if they weren't doing something important. It was everyone there were happy to do their tasks.
He passed through the corridors mainly ignored. He would receive glances of course, but their gazes would quickly drop and they would continue working. Odd. He made it to the lift at the end of the hallway, knowing that the main control room was just above him. He waved his hand over the sensors and stepped onto the elevator as the doors swished open. He looked down at the buttons and the many levels, and noticed that the top floor's number didn't correlate with the highest floor on the map he had studied. He clicked the top button, knowing that it lead to the control room, but the map had said that there was a higher floor. He wondered why the lift didn't go to the highest floor as the doors swished shut and the elevator began to rise.
The lift stopped rising as he reached the top door and the doors swished open. Damian stepped into the control room, his eyes flashing wildly all around him. The room was dim, and directly in front of him stood or sat rows of people, staring at transparent screens as their hands waved wildly in the air or typed at invisible keyboards in their laps. The long room extended far to his right, and he stared in amazement at the large window separating the ship from the outside that spanned against the entire front of the room. There had never been a spaceship to have such a large or thick glass partition before, he would like to see how they managed to keep the material in place without it cracking or breaking apart. The view was stunning as the many stars expanded out into the infinities, distant planets twirling into view.
He peeled his eyes away from the amazing view to better examine the rest of the control room. To his left was an upper level, its white color starkly different from the rest of the room. A large circular platform extended from the open area, a small staircase leading up onto the bridge. Beyond the circular platform was a white wall, a lone doorway standing in the center. He contemplated what the doorway could lead to, and realized that the upper level that had been missing on the lift he had taken must be beyond that doorway and up another lift. He presumed that it must lead to the captain's quarters, as he knew that there was a rule on most spacecrafts that only the captains could be on the bridge, so only the captain would be allowed passage through that doorway. To the right of the doorway and nestled in the corner was a small desk and high backed chair, similar to the chairs the crew was sitting on in the lower area of the control room. A woman sat at the desk, he could tell immediately that she was a Treshiss because of her green scales. He wondered if she were the captain, but his instincts told him that she was not the head person in charge. The woman on the bridge was wearing a different uniform, unlike any of the uniforms he had seen on his journey to the console room with her red skirt and short-sleeved dress. Certainly she must be the captain, he reasoned, because of her change of dress, but again he felt that she wasn't.
He turned his attention to the crew members in front of him, who completely ignored him and instead focused diligently on their work, each one of them wearing the custom uniforms with matching red shirts. There was a constant stream of chatter as they conversed with each other, and their postures showed that they were all relaxed. Something strange was definitely going on, something that he couldn't place. How could all of these different races work side by side, without any struggles? He had seen enough racism and prejudices amongst the different aliens, and in here they were all working harmoniously. Not only that, but several of them were actually smiling. Smiling. No one he had ever worked with had smiled, though he assumed it was because no one could tolerate him long enough to work with him and be happy about it. Still, working for several hours in a day in a dimly lit room shouldn't illicit any smiles. It was all too strange.
Realizing that no one was going to approach him and ask him what he was doing there, Damian walked over to the wall and dropped his dufflebag by his feet. He had been told to expect the Captain to meet him when he arrived, so he decided to wait for the Captain to enter the room as he examined his surroundings.
The crew members would glance at him but for the most part he blended into the wall as they went about their work. They waved their hands or tentacles in the air as several of them spoke into headsets or merely chatted with each other. He looked up at the bridge and noticed the Treshiss look up from her desk and glance at his direction before turning back to a small tablet on her desk. Strange, he hadn't seen an e-book in years. Based on all of the up-to-date technology surrounding him, he figured that the reason the woman on the bridge was using the outdated technology was because of personal preference and not lack of funds.
He wondered why everyone in here was so happy. They weren't bubbling for joy or anything like that, but he could tell that each one of them enjoyed their jobs. He wondered what type of ship this captain was running was. Would the crew be able to keep their mouths shut? Will the captain be able to work with him and follow his orders? Were they trained enough to embark on some missions that would require stealth and advanced fighting techniques? Not that any would be required, but just in case.
After spending a few minutes in his own thoughts as he examined his surroundings a loud bell rang throughout the room and suddenly the entire atmosphere changed. The talking and other noises completely stopped as all of the crew members sat up straighter in their chairs and focused more intently on their work. Damian raised his eyebrow in response. Even the Treshiss on the bridge stood up from her desk and walked to the doorway in the center of the bridge, waving her hand and typing in a few numbers into an invisible keyboard near the door. The heavily reinforced door slid open, it would take a lot to blast through or break into that room. Damian strained his head to see through the doorway and could only make out a long hallway that the Treshiss passed into, the doors sliding shut behind her.
Damian wondered what that was about. The crew members continued to sit upright as their movements became more precise, their talking quieted as they spoke into their headphones, no longer turning to each other for conversation. Were they being monitored now? That would explain their change in behavior. He heard the swish of the doors again and turned to look at the bridge.
He was completely taken aback as the captain stepped into the room. A tall woman stepped into the room, her tight uniform fitting nicely to her well formed body, her shirt a navy blue. Even without the insignia on her chest or the color or her shirt Damian knew without a doubt that she was the Captain, her entire demeanor and appearance shouted confidence and control. As she stepped into the room, her boots (noticeably taller than the uniform boots of the rest of the crew members) clicking against the hard floors, the entire work station snapped to attention. The dozens of people in the long rows in the room had swiveled in their seats and jumped to their feet, unless they were already standing, to raise their hands in a salute towards the captain, each face showing utter respect towards their leader. Damian was dumbfounded. He had never seen such an act before in his life, normally when the captain enters a room the crew members might acknowledge the entrance but wouldn't jump to attention like he just witnessed. He then realized what the bell had been for, it was a warning for them that the captain was coming.
"At ease." Her clear voice rang throughout the room as the crew sat back in their seats or turned to return to their work, somehow even more focused and precise than before. It was astounding. He wondered what would make the crew members so willing to work so hard while in front of their captain, where before there had been a dull roar of chatter everyone now seemed intent on solely their work. Were they afraid? He examined their faces. No, he decided. Such demeanor had to come from respect and not fear, if they were terrified of their leader they wouldn't have showed such happiness before. In fact, even now, he could tell that there was a certain gaiety to their work, as if everyone there wanted to prove their worth and show their diligence. It was so... odd. Disconcerting. No one should look so happy while focusing so intently on their work. He marvelled at the atmosphere this captain had created.
He looked back up to the bridge and caught himself staring at the very attractive captain. She was standing directly in the center of the circular area of the bridge, her hands behind her back and her feet shoulder width apart as she watched her crew members with bright eyes. She seemed to take in every small detail as she scanned the room until finally her eyes rested on him near the doorway. Damian became ensnared by her gaze and was unable to break the eye contact as she stared at him with piercingly bright blue eyes that matched the color of her shirt.
Finally she broke the intense stare and turned to walk to the small staircase on the side of the bridge. As she stepped down the stairs her blonde hair bounced against her back, and Damian realized that she was heading straight for him. He stood a bit straighter and quickly ran his fingers through his dark curly hair, realizing too late that his hair was a complete mess. His hair took time to wrangle into an appropriate appearance, but normally he didn't care if he looked like a complete mad man with messy hair and strange clothes, but suddenly he became extremely conscious of his appearance. She was attractive, stunningly beautiful, and Damian became very shy and insecure as she approached. A woman like her shouldn't be a captain, instead she should be a supermodel, winning pageants, she could easily win Miss Universe he mused. Again he wished that he had at least brushed his hair during his long trip over.
He quickly glanced away from her as she approached, shocked by his thoughts. He had never really admired a woman before, sure he could tell when they were attractive, but he had never wanted to seem attractive to them in return, and here he was worrying about his appearance. Who cares what she thought of what he looked like? He thought to himself, setting his jaw. He still didn't want a partner and would probably never look at her as such. He was in charge of himself and he doesn't play nice with others.
She drew closer to him and extended her hand, and Damian had no choice but to look back at her, getting drawn once again into her intense gaze. Her eyes were so beautiful, her irises forming deep pools that seemed to stretch onto the infinities; he wanted more than anything to just spend the rest of the day staring into her eyes. Quickly he wrenched his gaze away from hers, embarrassed by his thoughts, and looked at any other part of her; her confident stance and outstretched hand, her lips pulled into a smile to reveal perfectly straight and blindingly white teeth. Finally he extended his hand to engulf her small hand and slender fingers, her grip was firm and revealed her powerful strength.
"I'm the captain of this ship," she announced, "It's a pleasure to meet you." Her voice was clear and bright, and it sounded as though she actually were pleased to meet him. That would certainly be a first; no one was ever pleased to meet him. She must not have been warned about his reputation.
"Likewise, Captain," Damian responded, dropping her hand. He glanced away from her, not wanting to be entranced again. He noticed several crew members glance away from them as he caught their stares. He wondered if they knew why he was there, though he highly doubted it as they had still let him on the ship.
"Shall we find someplace private?" The captain asked.
Damian glanced at her, shocked by her abruptness as he considered the possibilities of her meaning, most of his thoughts not very appropriate.
"I'm certain you have a lot of things to tell me." The captain clarified, though her smile widened. Damians felt his cheeks inflame as he realized that the captain had probably recognized his thought process.
"Of course." Damian said with a curt nod. In return the captain turned on her heel and headed towards the lift he had used to enter the control room.
After waving her hand over the sensor and stepping into the center of the elevator Damian followed her, picking up his duffel bag and tossing it over his shoulder. She eyed the duffle bag and then pressed a button on the wall, leading to the floor just below them.
"I could show you your room first so that you could become situated," she offered.
Damian shifted the weight of his bag as the lift began to lower. "No, I'll be fine. Lets have our meeting first."
The captain nodded in response as the lift doors opened. She swiftly stepped out, leaving Damian to follow. He couldn't help but to admire the way her hips swayed as she briskly walked down the long hallway, but not wanting to stare he quickly turned his gaze away to examine his surroundings. The hallway was long and narrow, closed doors on either side spanned down the length of the walls. The captain stopped suddenly in front of a door to the right and waved her hand over the sensor and then punched in a code, which Damian couldn't see. The door slid open and she stepped through.
Damian followed her close behind and examined the large room in front of him. A long table extended down the room, dozens of chairs surrounding the table. It was a meeting place, he realized, though it was rather large and extravagant for their small, two person meeting. The walls were bare and the entire area was very proper and refined with the high arching ceiling and dimmed lights. Instead of walking to the table to take a seat the captain turned to the right and led him to another doorway, which she opened with another wave of her hand and a quick code. She passed inside.
Damian peered around the doorway and to his surprise found a rather pleasant looking room. It was small and had two plush looking chairs in the center of the room facing each other. On the walls were paintings and a small bar sat in the corner, glistening wine glasses hanging from the ceiling by some unseen force. He stepped inside as he watched the captain make her way to the bar. The door slid shut behind him, a loud click resounding through the room as the doors shut. They were locked in he realized with a start as he glanced back at the doorway.
"No one will be able to enter this room from the outside, though you can leave at anytime you wish," the captain said, seemingly reading his mind. Damian turned to look at her as she merrily plucked two wine glasses from the air. "There are no 'bugs' or recording devices either, and the walls and door are soundproof." She picked up a metal tray from the counter and placed the two wine glasses on top of it, then withdrew a wine bottle from beneath the counter. She popped off the cork with a twist of her wrist and began pouring the sparkling liquid into the two glasses, setting the bottle on the tray as well. When she picked up the tray she glanced at Damian, who was still standing in the doorway.
He was glad that the room was safe to have their private meeting, he knew that if what he said leaked there would be a large price to pay. He dropped his bag to the floor and chose the chair that pointed towards the bar, plopping himself down he watched her make way towards him.
She stepped in front of her chair and held out the tray so it would be between them but off to the side, within easy reaching distance for the two of them but not obstructing their sight of each other. She pressed a button on the bottom of the tray and let go of it as it remained hovering in the air. Satisfied with its position she sat as well, her back straight and her hands on her lap.
Damian wondered how he was going to start their meeting, he would have to choose his words carefully. He stared at the floating tray of wine and wondered if she was trying to get him drunk.
"It's non alcoholic." She explained, plucking a glass of wine from the tray, dissuading his doubts, again reading his mind. She held the wine to her nose and breathed in, "It's one of my favorites." She held the glass to her lips and the clear liquid slipped into her mouth, he watched her slender neck as she swallowed.
So the wine wasn't poisoned, he justified, his thoughts dark. He reached his hand forwards and grabbed his own slender glass, and following her actions he also held the liquid to his nose. The clear smell of grapes finely sweetened wafted into his nose, as well as a faint scent of... lemon. Lemon? Interesting, he thought as he brought the glass to his lips. The wine was fine indeed, it was a sparkling type of grape juice, he could sense no alcohol. He also couldn't sense any lemon, which was strange, as he could definitely smell it in the room.
He returned his glass to the floating tray as he examined the captain. She demurely leaned back in her seat, holding her glass in her fingers as she returned his gaze. Damian steepled his hands together and brought them up beneath his chin as he pondered who exactly the captain was. She was very confident in herself, he could tell by her position and her calmness. She was curious as to why he was there and what she was going to be up against, which was made obvious as she waited for him to speak first, content to wait. She took good care of herself, her body was finely toned and he could see her strong muscles under her tight uniform. The amount of respect her crew gave to her was outstanding, and completely strange. What had she done to receive such level of respect? They didn't respect her merely due to her station, it was from something deeper than that. Could he trust her?
The things he was going to tell her were mind numbing, and he knew that they would be difficult to comprehend for any logical thinking person. Even if she accepts the information he told her, her task would be daunting and dangerous. He wondered how she would react. If she disagreed with him, stubbornly refusing his facts and deciding not to risk the lives of her crew, would she kick him out? Kill him? There was a lot at stake, but he knew that the Admiral and trusted this woman to help him in the task. There wasn't another option for him to turn to.
He took in a breath of air, deciding to begin with a question to determine if she were capable to help him.
"What are your thoughts on time travel?" Damian finally asked.