Ship's Captain

Under your feet, the metal of the SS Orchid hums contentedly. Around you, members of your crew are calibrating, calculating and chattering. In front of you, the depths of space spread out forever, begging to be explored.

The date is 2121 and the One Earth Government (OEG for short) is preparing for one of the greatest endeavors in the history of the human race. Today, 333 city sized ships will leave the foundries on Mars, travel to the far ends of our solar system and begin a decade long push into the outer reaches of space. The selection process for those 333 Captains was long, arduous and more selective than the election of any 21st century president. Even so, you made it. And here you are, still recovering from the celebrations of the selection ceremony and standing aboard the ship that you will soon not only command but be leaving everything you know aboard.

This is your bridge, the nerve centre of your ship. Here, you will have to make decisions, give orders and look like you know what you're doing at all times. On this bridge, your word is law, making you a king in your own mobile kingdom. However, if you slip up here, everyone on the ship will pay the price. The heavy weight of responsibility goes some way towards bursting the bubble of excitement that's been sitting in your chest ever since you set foot on the Orchid.

Your eyes settle upon the shape of the Captain's chair. It's a complicated piece of machinery that sits in the very centre of the bridge, feeding whoever sits in it a constant stream of updates on everything from the amount of solar radiation being absorbed by the hull to how many bottles of whiskey are left on board. Reverentially, you lower yourself into the chair and try to get comfy. Whatever else the coming years hold, you're going to be spending a lot of time sitting in this chair. As you began to familiarise your backside with its new home, somebody speaks up from behind you.

"Captain James? We're T-minus five minutes."

With childlike glee, you stab one of the switches and the entire podium upon which your command chair rests swivels noiselessly to face the speaker. Before stands a woman of about your height with enchantingly pale skin, sable hair and an wryly amused expression. Much like you, she wears the stand OEG Navy uniform; a greyish blue button-up tunic, trousers of the same colour and black boots. Unlike you, her buxom curves fill out the uniform in a way that really... draws the eye. So much so, in fact, that she notices you noticing her and gives you a quick wink.

"Good morning sir, we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Lieutenant Amanda Themocles and I'll be serving as your adjutant and personal assistant." She nods at the chair. "How does the chair feel?"