The hangar bay settles into a low, steady hum. Packed crates sit lashed beside the shuttle cradle, and the star map keeps throwing pale light across Diechee, Sena, and Talik.
Talik
I checked the last seal twice. We can move the moment you say so.
Sena
And I packed for a fight, not a funeral. There is a difference.
Sena’s tone is sharp, but her shoulders ease a fraction as she looks to Diechee. Talik leans on a supply crate, trying too hard to seem casual.
Talik
He is quiet. That usually means he is carrying too much alone.
The star map blooms brighter for a moment, then settles back into its glow. No alarm follows, only the patient thrum of The Nova holding position in Tahk’s calm waters.
Sena
Say the word, Diechee. Or don’t. We can stand here a while longer.
“"Talik, where the hell is your brother, and our two wannabe mercs? I said assemble everyone, we go like this, and I'd never go on if I lost you two."”
SUCCESS (Great Leadership, rolled +2)
Diechee
Talik, where is your brother, and where are the two mercs? I said everyone assembles before we leave.
Talik straightens from the crate and answers before the hangar can settle back into silence. Sena turns her head, watching him with open, measured concern.
Talik
Below deck, arguing with the cargo lift. They are alive, just irritating. I sent for them again.
Sena
He means the brothers never do one simple job at one simple speed. One is trying, the other is pretending not to.
Talik’s mouth quirks despite himself. He glances at Diechee, then lowers his voice.
Talik
I know you would not go if you thought you might lose us. I heard that part.
Sena
And that is why we keep talking, before you decide carrying all of it alone is noble.
From the star map, the red route swells brighter. A thin outbound probe tone slips through the hum, cold and precise, asking for attention.
“Well your brother is the best pilot we have, and I need everyone strapped in before we make our first jump. Hop to cuties, Sena offensive systems, Talik I think you like letting your brother goof off cause you want the punishment. I smirk, I'll cover any psionic issues”
SUCCESS (Great Leadership, rolled +0)
Diechee cuts through the hangar’s tension and lays out the order. The crew hears it as a command, not a debate, and the half-ready bustle snaps into motion.
Sena
Offensive systems, on it. If that probe tastes us again, I want teeth waiting.
Talik
Fine. I’ll get the pilot fed and the wake clean. Someone has to make the jump look easy.
Sena is already moving for the weapon controls. Talik turns away from the crates and heads for the flight access, his grin thin but obedient.
Diechee
The pilot stays where he belongs. I’ll cover any psionic interference.
At that, both of them answer with quick, undeniable trust. The hangar lights stutter red as the outbound ping brushes the hull again, colder and closer than before.
Sena
Then don’t let it touch us. We move now.
The star map flares along the dead-sector route, bright enough to paint their faces. The Nova is no longer waiting, it is being armed for departure.
{"action":"The Nova safely exits the hangar, then the atmosphere. \"Alright, since somebody expects us to walk right into a trap, I'm gonna pull an old trick, just follow the jumps I had Malik
Talik
input.\" I proceed to start gathering psionic energy. \"You guys ever see 1 ship turn into 4, that can each take a couple hits?\" I laugh maniacally as I release the stored energy, creating 3 more identical Novas.","outcome":"success","trait":"Agility","traitLevel":"Good","roll":1,"sceneTitle":"The Calm Before Departure","location":"The Nova hangar bay"}