At 08:00 sharp, the command bridge of the Aethelgard was fully assembled.
Arthur Vance sat at the head of the central tactical table. He was flanked by Pilot Kira and Chief Engineer Szabo. Around the outer edge of the bridge, the five friend beasts took their places with solemn, disciplined focus. Grimm sat on Arthur’s right, his black ruff brushed and alert. Vesper sat upright on the navigation console, her silver tail wrapped neatly across her paws. Titus’s massive head filled the forward watching hatchway. Echo floated serenely in his high-pressure sphere. And Pip perched on Arthur’s shoulder, his nine tiny suns glowing with steady, crisp amber light.
In the center of the tactical hololith, a three-space-folding projection of the entire solar system revolved in slow, majestic vectors.
Arthur tapped the control screen, bringing up the long-range mission profile.
“Before we commit the ship to this flight path, I want everyone to understand the reality of where we’re going,” Arthur began. His voice was calm, clear, and commanding the complete attention of every person and beast in the room. “The Grand Council on Earth has sent three formal transmissions requesting that we return home for a world-size triumph. They believe the war ended with the death of the Eclipse Sun-Eater.”
