Leaving Shadows

Meria sat and looked sullenly out the massive curved bridge windows. There was nothing to look at; she was bored. The sky was clear, empty, and uninteresting. The landscape below was dull, brown, and nearly featureless. She glowered at the figures around her, hunched over monitors and scanners, searching for... something... If they would work faster, the ship wouldn't be locked into its current ponderous rate of speed.

Of course, her brother had left her here, on this ship. As the lone member of the Felineir line remaining on board, she was unable to leave the bridge lest it stop altogether. Meria suspected Palarin had himself grown bored and had departed to find a diversion at the capitol city. He had made a grand show of suddenly being called away, urgently calling for one of the dinghies to be readied. With an imperious air he had stalked off the bridge and departed, tethering her to the bridge for the foreseeable future.

She stood, and wandered to the suspended couch by the port bridge window. She shucked off her boots and sat, tucking her legs beneath her. Staring down at the rippling landscape, Meria began to plot the petty ways she could exact her revenge on her brother. The silhouette of the ship on ground seemed to mutate and shudder as it made its lazy way through the sky. With a smirk, Meria settled on the idea of leaving a loosened pen in the pocket of one of her brother's uniform jackets. When he put it on, a black stain would spread down the jacket, like the one being cast on the ground by the ship.

The helmsman started in his seat, and Meria perked up expectantly, waiting for a report. After a few moments, she realized that he had started awake after having dozed off; it seemed that she was not the only one being hollowed out by the monotony. She toyed with the idea of creating some excitement by having the crewman punished for his lapse, but decided that she felt an odd kinship born out of their shared boredom.

Leaning down, she fastened on her boots, then drew herself from the couch and gracefully drifted over to the pilot's seat. "Helmsman, what is our current heading?" He turned to her, a uncertain look on his face. Meria rarely spoke to the crew and it was clear that this unexpected interaction was causing him some trepidation. "Our heading is ninety degrees, my lady." She shot him a mischievous look. "Excellent, I trust that you are maintaining that heading despite the turbulent skies?" The helmsman relaxed, realizing her intentions were purely conversational. He opened his mouth to reply, when the bridge was suddenly awash with warning lights and klaxons began to sound throughout the ship.

Meria pointed her right palm at the floor, spreading her fingers apart, then sharply raised her hand to her face as if putting on a mask. The gesture summoned a cloud of holographic displays around her head and her vision focused on the display showing the cause of the alert: an object was moving at incredible rate of speed, perpendicular to the course of her ship. She flicked her hand downward, crossing her thumb and forefinger, summoning a control holo to her hand. Meria rapidly entered a series of commands that set the front engines sending long jets of plasma forward, bringing the ship to a halt, then sending it lumbering backwards. The object streaked past the bow, causing the ship to bob and list slightly in the low-pressure air the object left in its wake. Meria, pulled her displays around to the holo console for orbital tracking. Adrenaline coursing through her body, she was suddenly glad her brother was in the capitol; this prey would be hers alone.