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-====== Writing Dribble - Fic ======
-[[fic:stuff|More information!]]\\
-<color #ff7f27>6:15 AM OCST - Oshima-Gooth L1 Lagrangian Point, Toole Star System</color>
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-Most even in this age of colonization thought space was empty, nothing but a hungry howling vacuum absent of everything and while this was true for most significant forms matter what the near empty spaces between worlds didn't lack is energy. Radiation, high energy particles, emissions from stars all zipping about seeking matter to strike. Around a singular point in space these particles and waves began to dance, striking a rising 'bump' in the very fabric of the universe and emitting a bright glow as something slowly eased open the membrane between dimensions allowing the passing of a vessel back into real space.
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-A sleek double bow and mat grey paneled hull rose from this artificial event horizon, the impossibly black grasp of jump space disgorging the hull as it was greeted by the lethal rays of the system's yellow star. Before the vessel the blues, greens, and whites of the Anglo-American colony world of Oshima Prime expanded out below. As the frigate oriented itself, the bright blue glow of its fusion sub-light drive spinning up the shadows slowly receded from a certain section of the bow, the stenciled letters 'UMV Bonneville' soon glowing in the hard white light. She is a Kannon-class Frigate of the Union Colonial Navy. A keen eye would note the various small pieces of damage across the plating, impact marks, energy weapon scorching, all signs of more then a few close calls. A result of the Frigate's current tasking as a loaned operations platform to the Colonial Navy's 'SpecWar' Command group. Within seconds of her transition between spaces automated electronic signals reached out from both the vessel and the various pieces of orbital infrastructure over and near the world and the men and women within the ceramic and metallic hull all collectively breathed a sigh of relief... the mission was over for now.
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-For two on board however the return to port wouldn't be the end, the first sat on the vessel's command bridge. Buried under layers of ceramic plate, spall liners, and honeycombed empty air it was a dark and foreboding place when the vessel was underway. The grey interior paneling broken by access panels, hull mounted boxes containing electronics or emergency systems, and the occasional station manned by a grey-blue uniformed member of the bridge crew. For his part despite the wild escape not even a few hours behind them Captain Keshav Joshi kept his face of impassiveness even as the low blue glow of his tablet showed him the report from his 'mission package'. He was an Anglo colonist of modest space born origins, his ancestors from a southern region of a subcontinent that was now thousands of light years away. Those genes however left him with a darker than average complexion and a thin wiry body and a pair of piercing dark brown eyes that even now narrowed at the lines of text.
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-'Did we start a war?' He vaguely wondered, remembering the final moments before their emergency jump, the ship's optical suite showing them the Bonneville's torpedoes finding the lead vessel of a five ship squadron that nearly ended his vessel's existence.
-Letting out a sigh he slowly lifted himself from centrally located station, dropping a foot to the decking as five pairs of eyes turned toward him. His gaze met one set, "Lieutenant Colson you have the con, I'm heading aft." He said with a hair of fatigue creeping into his voice.
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-From her station the American colonist stood, a low and tired 'Aye Sir' drifting across the bridge's recycled air as he stepped to the rear hatch in the half G gravity. Part of him wondered how they'd done it, he could see some of them starting to fold. Heads bobbing, hands rubbing eyes that hadn't closed in sleep for nearly fifty hours since the snatch and grab mission had started. He could feel the creeping fingers of fatigue starting to slide their influence into his own form as well. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, banishing the thoughts of sleep for another few hours he looked up, his last view before the lift hatch sealed was Colson manning his vacated station, grey bags hanging under her eyes.
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