Krazzt reinflated the door behind him and surveyed what was nominally the cafeteria.
Currently it was almost obliterated from view by crewmembers, all of whom were watching him expectantly. On a ship the size of Aen Home-Seeker
gossip often spread faster than the captain could grab the mike.
As a result, the captain now gazed on a mass of daedric faces, eyes, tails and shipsuits. At least someone had thought to stow the furniture against the walls. Still, the fact several crew members were hanging off the ceiling made it hard to see.Right,
Krazzt thought, and cleared his throat. As if he needed to.
"My Kyn," and the faint stir of whispers faded, "I hereby announce officially what you lot no doubt know already –"
An embarrassed giggle scuttled its way through the crowd. Thirty years had made the gossip train incredibly efficient.
"– but I'm going to tell you anyway. Navigation has confirmed no less than five of the constellations marked in the Scrolls of Bitter Flight – excuse me, wait until I'm finished before paying bets!"
The disputing sounds behind the foremost crew ceased. Probably betting booze chits or crap details. Nothing wrong with that; a little gambling was OK as long as it didn't get out of hand. More importantly, that still Petty Officer Vazey had knocked up also provided surgical-grade alcohol and distilled water - useful stuff - assuming these gavakos didn't drink it first. Anyway...
"That's right, five as of now. We're entering the system of a single star, and we've observed a planet with two moons right in the life ring. Which is why we've been braking for the last five years.
"As such, I have pleasure in officially
confirming that we are approaching what should be our homeworld. Let Molabal, Mehdagon and Malcath tremble, for we return!"
Actually, Krazzt trembled before the compressed sound of what must have been four dozen Aenslandied cheering. The cheer was eclipsed by an increasing chorus of one of the oldest hymns, one of defiance against the Betrayers Three. Unthinking, Krazzt joined in. Several of the crew had their commos piping back to their teammates. The Aen Home-Seeker
rang with a song first coined in the First Era.
It took time before Krazzt could finally say, "That is all. Dismissed."
It took time - two full years in the Tamrielic calendar - for the ship to reduce its speed enough to get caught in Nirn's gravity well; to enter a stable orbit; to even be ready to consider aiming telescopes at the continents below. While Navigation and Engineering amused themselves with the ship, other teams hauled the STOVes out of mothballs, gave certain cargo a poke and prod, and started the ol' bone-drill in order to be ready when the time came to hit the dirt.
Not that anyone in that race of 'failed' daedric experiments, marooned on a low-magic planet, knew they'd developed spaceflight in time to experience the very last years of the Fourth Era.
Then again, who would have?This plotbunny is the unholy lovechild of Aensland's Tailed Dremora mod and The Atomic Rocket site. The general idea was: Dremora from space land in Cyrodiil and end up helping repel Mehdagon, rebuild Kvatch, rediscover magic and other hijinks.This post has been edited by Cardboard Box: Oct 7 2011, 07:33 AM