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Visions of Black
Planetoid
- Joined
- May 23, 2014
- Location
- Somewhere, France
The expected day of the launch had come but the problems with the ship persisted. The Proxima mission, as it was commonly called had its share of problems but none were so dire as the thruster issue. Working on a prototype system, the new class of ship, Stargazer a frigate with the potential to carry a crew of ten or less to the nearest system, was a plethora of problems on its own. Stargazer I, the flagship of this new class had problems with its thrusters, its mining lasers, and the engineers were almost making last minute changes to different systems, especially the hull.
Not to be outdone in his fastidiousness by other engineers, the operations chief David Sommers, the engineer who was to actually go on the journey called for last minute changes to the hull’s integrity just days before launch. Proxima was a relatively dead system, meaning that it had little asteroid activity. But due the discovery of a rogue meteorite that was passing through the system soon he worried about the damage that micro-meteoroids might have on the hull. Having been approved to work on the system for two more days and alter some of the shielding, the launch had been delayed.
To the relief of the rest of the crew and the USP (United Space Program), the repairs were completed on time and, while still hesitant, Chief Engineer Sommers gave the ship a go ahead. Captain d’Escallier, the man in charge of the mission was eager to go and had been pressuring Sommers, perhaps too hard, to keep things on schedule. Having been warned that the safety of the crew might be in jeopardy if not enough attention was paid to the hull, he pushed even harder. It seemed that the time table he and the director of the USP had issued was wrapped in enough bureaucratic non-sense to overrule the general safety of the crew.
Stargazer I left the earth without issue. A near perfect launch (almost delayed by weather) was attained and the rendezvous with fueling station Alpha in high earth orbit was successful. Plotting a position towards Sol’s nearest neighbor, Proxima, was only a matter of pre-planned calculations and an intuition sequence. Which, were all completely successful as well.
The first journey to another star system had begun, a journey that would last for at least two years (barring any problems) and hopefully result in a plethora of scientific understanding and research for humanity. The crew was set to live and work in the system and on the ship for at least a year while attempting to determine if landing on the surface of any planet was a viable option and then carry on operations for at least another year before setting off on a return journey home. Communications home would be difficult, but not impossible, as the signal (a new FTL system set up by buoys between Sol and Proixima) would take over a month to return home. The crew would be well into orbit around some body or another and operating before the earth even knew they were there.
The ship was a new design, a sleek craft made for quick (relatively) travel between solar systems. There were comfortable quarters for at least ten crew and three labs set up for any sort of need. The scientist, engineer, and medical officers would be well equipped to carry out their duties when the time came for them to start working.
The consisted of six members; Captain Jerard d’Escallier, Co-Captain Alana Morgan, Weapons Specialist Martin St. Clair, Medical Officer Dr. Natalya Voronova, Science Officer Dr. Shannon O’Connor, and Chief Engineer Dr. David Sommers. They had worked together for two years on this project with the exception of Captain Morgan who was a late addition due to her predecessor’s illness.
Now, on their way between the solar systems the team prepares to cross the boundary of Neptune, the point of no return and soon out of the sun’s sphere of gravity. The team, spending their last moments together before cyro-sleep, will wake up in an entirely different solar system, the only ones to have ever gone so far.
*~*
Sweat dripped from his brow as he leaned forward, his corded biceps tanned brown and tense, his large hands gripping soft white flesh, fingers digging in deep to the thin frame beneath him. Groans, in an almost growling fashion issued from the lips of Martin St. Clair, the sweat on his brow dripped, landing on the bowed back of the woman beneath him. His hand explored, but never released. Grasping pale breasts as they hung beneath her, she bent over on her knees and her hands as he barreled into her with abandon from behind. Her supple curves moving with the motion of his thrusts, his strong shoulders and hips tensing with each push.
He had her where he wanted her, where he had enjoyed her before…where he would have her again. His thick cock, throbbing harshly, swollen with lust and entering Natalya again and again was on the verge of exploding, but he held back as best he could. He had to distract himself, he needed more of her, he wanted more. As he thrust forward again with a groan his hands dipped down below to grasp tightly at her breasts, no longer allowing them to sway, but instead he held them in his rough hands, squeezing, caressing…pinching as he took what pleasure he could from the Russian beauty beneath him.
“Merde!” he cried out with ecstasy. “Natalya!” he groaned, his eyes rolling…close, but he refused to finish.
Sound proof walls of cabins were a blessing when you shared a wall with someone else. David Sommers, Chief Engineer of the ship sat silently in his room, enjoying the his last hours of restless relaxation with the book Contact, a great work written by, in his opinion, one of the greatest scientists to ever live. Carl Sagan. Sighing as he turned the last several pages he nearly reached the end, but he wasn’t ready to.
When this was finished he had nothing to look forward to except for a cold sleep…he had been told you felt nothing and you woke feeling as If you had just stepped in…but he didn’t believe. He had dreams, vivid dreams. Unlike Sagan’s book, if they were to come across undiscovered life forms he wasn’t so optimistic. At all. Maybe he played too many video games as a kid or watched too many bad sci-fi flicks, but it just didn’t seem right.
And he was lonely.
Shannon had been a wonderful respite for him during training, and during the Journey so far (short as it was). But, he had held out hopes for more though he knew that couldn’t be the case. Shy as he was, he could never bring himself to make a move, she was married anyway…what did she care. Though, he was content to have his friend on board, and stay nothing but friends, if that is what she wanted.
There was very little work for him to do though, until they landed. Or so he thought. A voice over the intercom, which issued through the entire ship begged to differ.
“Sommers, cockpit, now.”
Rolling his eyes he place his book in the back pocket of his jumpsuit and stood up. That jackass would pull him away at the end of the book…probably for something trivial. He never called Natalya or Martin up…but what did they have to do anyway….nothing. Probably just fucking anyway. They all knew that’s was their favorite past time. But no one talked about it.
~*~
In the cockpit, Captain d’Escallier frowned at the HUDissued out over the screen. He was staring into an inky blackness pock marked with stars, a sight he had seen a million times. Those spots hadn't meant anything to him, until now. Before they had been a great unattainable, a goal which he wouldn't ever reach. But now, in space…even if this mission went sour, he might get to see one of them much closer. He of course would be the first human, though maybe Morgan would too.
He smirked at the thought as he looked over at the younger and very attractive officer at his side. He had been pretty pleased with the appointment of her to his crew, even if she was a little green.
“How are the shields holding?” he remarked to her, waiting for Sommers. Knowing full well the shields were okay, just wanting an excuse to hear her voice. A voice he had imagined several times screaming his name. Her sweet young voice would sound perfect intermingled with his rougher accented tongue in the throes of intense pleasure. He waited for her response. Wondering if when he eventually bedded her (as he was sure he would) she would still call him sir from a position on her knees.
Not to be outdone in his fastidiousness by other engineers, the operations chief David Sommers, the engineer who was to actually go on the journey called for last minute changes to the hull’s integrity just days before launch. Proxima was a relatively dead system, meaning that it had little asteroid activity. But due the discovery of a rogue meteorite that was passing through the system soon he worried about the damage that micro-meteoroids might have on the hull. Having been approved to work on the system for two more days and alter some of the shielding, the launch had been delayed.
To the relief of the rest of the crew and the USP (United Space Program), the repairs were completed on time and, while still hesitant, Chief Engineer Sommers gave the ship a go ahead. Captain d’Escallier, the man in charge of the mission was eager to go and had been pressuring Sommers, perhaps too hard, to keep things on schedule. Having been warned that the safety of the crew might be in jeopardy if not enough attention was paid to the hull, he pushed even harder. It seemed that the time table he and the director of the USP had issued was wrapped in enough bureaucratic non-sense to overrule the general safety of the crew.
Stargazer I left the earth without issue. A near perfect launch (almost delayed by weather) was attained and the rendezvous with fueling station Alpha in high earth orbit was successful. Plotting a position towards Sol’s nearest neighbor, Proxima, was only a matter of pre-planned calculations and an intuition sequence. Which, were all completely successful as well.
The first journey to another star system had begun, a journey that would last for at least two years (barring any problems) and hopefully result in a plethora of scientific understanding and research for humanity. The crew was set to live and work in the system and on the ship for at least a year while attempting to determine if landing on the surface of any planet was a viable option and then carry on operations for at least another year before setting off on a return journey home. Communications home would be difficult, but not impossible, as the signal (a new FTL system set up by buoys between Sol and Proixima) would take over a month to return home. The crew would be well into orbit around some body or another and operating before the earth even knew they were there.
The ship was a new design, a sleek craft made for quick (relatively) travel between solar systems. There were comfortable quarters for at least ten crew and three labs set up for any sort of need. The scientist, engineer, and medical officers would be well equipped to carry out their duties when the time came for them to start working.
The consisted of six members; Captain Jerard d’Escallier, Co-Captain Alana Morgan, Weapons Specialist Martin St. Clair, Medical Officer Dr. Natalya Voronova, Science Officer Dr. Shannon O’Connor, and Chief Engineer Dr. David Sommers. They had worked together for two years on this project with the exception of Captain Morgan who was a late addition due to her predecessor’s illness.
Now, on their way between the solar systems the team prepares to cross the boundary of Neptune, the point of no return and soon out of the sun’s sphere of gravity. The team, spending their last moments together before cyro-sleep, will wake up in an entirely different solar system, the only ones to have ever gone so far.
*~*
Sweat dripped from his brow as he leaned forward, his corded biceps tanned brown and tense, his large hands gripping soft white flesh, fingers digging in deep to the thin frame beneath him. Groans, in an almost growling fashion issued from the lips of Martin St. Clair, the sweat on his brow dripped, landing on the bowed back of the woman beneath him. His hand explored, but never released. Grasping pale breasts as they hung beneath her, she bent over on her knees and her hands as he barreled into her with abandon from behind. Her supple curves moving with the motion of his thrusts, his strong shoulders and hips tensing with each push.
He had her where he wanted her, where he had enjoyed her before…where he would have her again. His thick cock, throbbing harshly, swollen with lust and entering Natalya again and again was on the verge of exploding, but he held back as best he could. He had to distract himself, he needed more of her, he wanted more. As he thrust forward again with a groan his hands dipped down below to grasp tightly at her breasts, no longer allowing them to sway, but instead he held them in his rough hands, squeezing, caressing…pinching as he took what pleasure he could from the Russian beauty beneath him.
“Merde!” he cried out with ecstasy. “Natalya!” he groaned, his eyes rolling…close, but he refused to finish.
Sound proof walls of cabins were a blessing when you shared a wall with someone else. David Sommers, Chief Engineer of the ship sat silently in his room, enjoying the his last hours of restless relaxation with the book Contact, a great work written by, in his opinion, one of the greatest scientists to ever live. Carl Sagan. Sighing as he turned the last several pages he nearly reached the end, but he wasn’t ready to.
When this was finished he had nothing to look forward to except for a cold sleep…he had been told you felt nothing and you woke feeling as If you had just stepped in…but he didn’t believe. He had dreams, vivid dreams. Unlike Sagan’s book, if they were to come across undiscovered life forms he wasn’t so optimistic. At all. Maybe he played too many video games as a kid or watched too many bad sci-fi flicks, but it just didn’t seem right.
And he was lonely.
Shannon had been a wonderful respite for him during training, and during the Journey so far (short as it was). But, he had held out hopes for more though he knew that couldn’t be the case. Shy as he was, he could never bring himself to make a move, she was married anyway…what did she care. Though, he was content to have his friend on board, and stay nothing but friends, if that is what she wanted.
There was very little work for him to do though, until they landed. Or so he thought. A voice over the intercom, which issued through the entire ship begged to differ.
“Sommers, cockpit, now.”
Rolling his eyes he place his book in the back pocket of his jumpsuit and stood up. That jackass would pull him away at the end of the book…probably for something trivial. He never called Natalya or Martin up…but what did they have to do anyway….nothing. Probably just fucking anyway. They all knew that’s was their favorite past time. But no one talked about it.
~*~
In the cockpit, Captain d’Escallier frowned at the HUDissued out over the screen. He was staring into an inky blackness pock marked with stars, a sight he had seen a million times. Those spots hadn't meant anything to him, until now. Before they had been a great unattainable, a goal which he wouldn't ever reach. But now, in space…even if this mission went sour, he might get to see one of them much closer. He of course would be the first human, though maybe Morgan would too.
He smirked at the thought as he looked over at the younger and very attractive officer at his side. He had been pretty pleased with the appointment of her to his crew, even if she was a little green.
“How are the shields holding?” he remarked to her, waiting for Sommers. Knowing full well the shields were okay, just wanting an excuse to hear her voice. A voice he had imagined several times screaming his name. Her sweet young voice would sound perfect intermingled with his rougher accented tongue in the throes of intense pleasure. He waited for her response. Wondering if when he eventually bedded her (as he was sure he would) she would still call him sir from a position on her knees.
