Captain Anton Vasiliev was in a fierce battle. One in which he was losing ground fast. He tried to think of other tactics, all his current ones were failing completely.
They didn’t train you for this!
Goddamnit, why did his eyes continue to disobey his direct orders to stay open? He tried forcing them as wide as possible, hoping no one else around the meeting table happened to glance at him.
Nope, it was still a struggle. Pain might do it. He bit the inside of his lip. No use. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, aiming for a nonchalant thoughtful posture he bit down hard on his knuckle.
Normally that would wake you up surely!
He’d have to resort to stimulants. He reached for a sachet of coffee from the centre of the cramped table. Wasn’t much room for meeting rooms on this ship.
Who would have thought discovering a new planet would have been so dull?
They didn’t have the sensor capability to really find out what was down there; they only managed some basic atmospheric analysis, which all turned out good. There was always a gamble the scientists got it wrong and the atmosphere would be a toxic soup.
But this ship was designed for one purpose. Getting here and setting up a Gate back.
It had taken a huge portion of the Russian budget to build the ship, but by far the most expensive part was the Kerenhowser Gate split into eight arc sections tucked away between the hydrogen tanks on the hull.
Their job, now that they had got here, was to set it up and come home. They could let the experienced scientists come with everything capable to assess the planet for habitation later. Of course, the government wouldn’t want the heroes of the new world to stay out here on the other side of space. There would be parades to go to, interviews to attend.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he could hold them open…
The linkage bolts were stuck, he was in a room full of engineers arguing over what was the best way of cutting through a bolt without damaging anything.
Welcome to the army.