>>5949252>>5949269>>5949383You take a step inside the austere office and salute crisply before standing at attention. Despite your burning need to know exactly what’s been going on with your simulated nightmares, you decide to respectfully let the Captain set the pace for this meeting. He obviously hasn’t summoned you here at this hour of your morning for idle chit chat. Captain Annon taps a few times on his holoscreen, then shuts it down and levels his even gaze at you. Your Father simply sits there considering you for a long moment, before leaning forward and interlacing his fingers on the desk, brow furrowed.
Hamish Annon has served aboard the TPN Coober Pedy for a little over 40 years, and has been its Captain for over half that time. His dark hair and heavy brows gives him a wise and stern demeanour, but his passionate devotion to his duty presents a more youthful presence despite being in his early fifties. Yet as he looks silently over you it seems as if every one of his fifty-three years is bearing down on his shoulders. With only a flick of his flinty eyes towards the open hatchway behind you, the doors whoosh closed and a soft thunk indicates a physical deadbolt sealing them shut. Your implant HUD fuzzes with static for a moment before indicating <span class="mu-b"><span class="mu-s">NO SIGNAL</span></span>.
“At ease, Son.” He sighs eventually.
You adjust your stance into a more relaxed pose but maintain a disciplined silence as you watch the man in front of you as closely as he seems to be studying you. Eventually, something about you apparently having satisfied his search, he speaks again.
“Despite your lack of punctuality, I take it you received my message. I hope you followed my instructions better than you managed your time?”
“To the best of my ability, Sir.” You shift restlessly under his scrutiny, despite your best efforts to remain professional.
“You didn’t return to your bed? Didn’t report to medical. You stayed off the comms and didn't talk to anyone about this?” The Captain’s tone shifts subtly, seeming more anxious than demanding. The feeling is infectious, never before have you seen the man so agitated.
You swallow the hard lump that has formed in your throat but only nod curtly, not trusting your own voice.
“Then take a seat, quickly boy. We’re shielded from the ship’s network here but there’s no time to lose.” He gestures to a small visitors chair, one of the few other pieces of furniture in the bare room, and continues muttering to himself as he withdraws a long cable from his desk.
“There’s still time… not again… it’ll be different… I swore never again… won’t take another…”
You can only make out snippets of what the man seems to be unconsciously saying under his breath but none of it seems to be directed at you. Hesitantly taking the offered chair you eye his deft movements with increasing worry as he plugs the cable into his console and rapidly punches in commands. His hand suddenly snaps out to you, proffering the other end.
