Rick as Tatloani, the Captain from Kayatol
Georgeanna as Nyx, the Intelligence Officer from Nyeusi
Kookaburra as Artemis, the Medical Officer from Esik
Palacia as Kirble, the Navigational Officer from Chollima
Joule as Nat, the Publicity Officer from Nakthiav
wadjet as Phine, the Science Officer from Kijivu
Śaraṯkṣati as Thirty-Six, the Security Officer from Falzers 2
Aurelia Corville as Lernaia, the Technical Officer from Koloz
***PLEASE DO NOT POST UNLESS YOU HAVE READ AND UNDERSTAND YOUR FIRST MAJESTIC PM AND MY OOC POST DETAILING INITIAL PROCEDURE***
Interstellar Council Super-Station, Exact Whereabouts Unknown
The pinnacle of cooperation in the Majesty Galaxy floated in deep space. No ships appeared to approach it or depart from it, but it was infinitely busy. At its core was a massive orb that housed perhaps the greatest collection of political minds ever assembled in the Chambers of the Interstellar Council. Surrounding that were three segments that spiraled downwards making the entire Super-Station appear like one massive conical shell. Moving too quickly around the shell to perceive were a series of rings that allowed the Super-Station to travel at impossible speeds through some combination of perpetual motion and more resources than the Interstellar Council would ever be able to pool together again.
The uppermost segment was futuristic in only the worst ways – bright artificial light shone over a sterile environment. The perfectly waxed floors reflected the countless people flitting around in every direction. Moving walkways zipped people around the center at remarkable speeds. A dutiful cleaning robot beeped incessantly at an Uchafun whose petals were littering the floor.
Funky furniture was collected in alcoves here and there, but only as a reflection of the many varied rumps that would find rest in them. In one such alcove, a Thavian sat across from a Parameshi with especially dry-looking skin beneath the dignified cloak of an Interstellar Councillor. The Thavian had his eyes shut and snored quietly while his camera pod continued to float around the Parameshi who took it as encouragement to keep talking. “On Parameshvar, we have had tremendous success creating laws that ban certain unnatural flavor pairings. It is taking time to convey our aesthetic and dietary sensibilities to some other members of the Council, but I do believe we are making progress…”
The confined office spaces of the Councillors were also dotted about this top floor. The doors of only two of them were cracked open enough to catch a glimpse of their activities.
In the first, A Kijivun argued in a muffled, underwater voice with an irate Ceran.
“Creatures that can sing are people. Have you ever heard the sea crickets that live in the oceans beneath the surface of Koloz?”
“This is a farce. Utter rubbish. Pseudoscience.”
“You only say that because you can’t hear their music at the frequency I hear 'em at. They are practically screaming about their suffering.”
In the second, a refugee of some species unlike any known to the explored sector of the Majesty Galaxy pleaded with, well whoever it was, he was too short to be seen over his oversized desk.
“We have eighteen families. We are just asking for any moon and enough aid to setup the most basic terraformation devices.”
“How many breeding pairs do you have?” The voice asked coldly and casually.
“Tsk. Majesty Galaxy has filled up quick. That will never do for a terraformation project. I can set your lot up in a single bubble at Hartuitor. All the non-breeders will have to go to labor camp most of the time but that should give you at least a little breathing room.“
The whole time the foreign creature was counting on fingerlike frills on its neck. “Eleven, then… We have eleven pairs!”
“All the worse for the rest I suppose.”
There were even more people in the middle segment, but there was none of the hubbub. The second segment had many floors within itself. Tiny guest residences that were little more than beds of various forms tucked into the walls layer upon layer comprising perfectly neat rows and columns of habitation blocks, and all of them were sealed up tight. The only stirring in all the halls was a lone Badangian who must have smuggled liquor aboard as he smashed a document against his doorknob and peered into the retinal scanner. “Phmassphmort.” A diminutive Bazhannyan in a slick suit walked up with a confident strut, almost certainly a member of some more important guest’s personal security detail. The Badangian whirled around on him quick but the Bazhannyan leaped up onto the Badangian’s shoulders and forced his head back a bit. The retinal scanner took in his foreeye instead of his reareye and the cramped room opened to him. The Bazhannyan slid down the Badangians broad back and tapped his rear end on the way off. The Badangian belched and collapsed on the bed before the door shut and all was quiet again. A day previous and the individuals who were now the crew of the Majestic would have been in their own little private accommodations.
The lowest level was newer and noisier. Engineers and mechanics scurried around working on a block-like craft at the center of the segment – the Majestic. Most of them were Alsadians or Mimpians, but there were some others too. The only sturdy bit so far was the bridge. Some ships ended up being little more than a bridge. But there was massive machinery in every direction of the incomplete vessel.
Strangely enough, it would be that day the Majestic would be ready to launch. The brand-new crew were gathered inside the ship-to-be. Some of them might have encountered spacecraft manufactory close to this scale and speed elsewhere. Some would likely be horrified either at the unfinished state of the ship they were now inside or the intense metallurgy going on just outside. Still others would likely not know the difference any which way. The Majestic would be a high-end, but by no stretch of the imagination flawless, space-worthy ship. It would never be the engineering marvel that the Super-Station was – more planet than ship, but a planet that could vanish in the blink of an eye and be at some opposite end of the galaxy, leaving behind only colorful, distorted space. No, the Majestic would be made more for a practical, unassuming image that would make it far more capable of warm and fuzzy missions and complex maneuverability.
Within the bridge, the crew was settled into their respective places – eight swiveling seats at private, secure consoles paired with unusual coin machines. Their mission would never be a simple one. A charismatic Councillor from Holod had said upon the initial passing of the Majestic project, “This crew is going to change the way space works.” Dramatic sure, but she wasn’t wrong. It only made sense that their journey would begin with posturing for the best toys on the ship...