The radio buzzed into life. Watts rolled over. He wasn't feeling it today. Last night had been a bit wild. There was an inauguration party for three of the new pilots. They were cocky and probably completely useless when it came to flying asteroid runs but he just couldn't resist a good party.
The wall of his dorm erupted in vibrant blues and greens as his daily objectives flashed up in a blurry haze. He could just make out the words "priority one" before letting out a groan. Today, really?
"TYRO" He shouted so loud that he felt a lash of pain across his forehead.
"How can I be of service today sir!" Chirped a robotic voice. The droid rolled into the room with a tray of orange juice and toast. Damn thing was far too enthusiastic.
"Hangover pills..." He murmured. The robot dispensed a small capsule into the orange juice and mixed it up with an automated utensil.
"Here you go sir. Though I do advise that the best cure for a hangover is moderation, as these will only mask the"
The robot stopped dead as Watts slammed down on a remote control. The damn things didn't come with a volume control but he'd got one of the tech guys down in sector 7 to rig one up. Came in handy.
He sighed and stretched out a little. They'd kick in soon enough. He paused his wake up routine when he saw the flashing red light on top of the robot. It was going berserk. With another sigh, he cranked up the volume.
"Emergency call from Mission Control sir!"
What did those jerks want? He'd been trying to block the words priority one out of his immediate consciousness.
"Captain Watts. Report immediately to debrief."
"What's the hurry?" He half-yawned.
"We have intercepted a distress call from Captain Walker. Report to debrief immediately for full objective update."
What had Walker done this time? That asshole was always getting into trouble, crying emergency at every possible chance. He'd had to bail that pussy out at least a dozen times. At least. Watts stumbled over to a panel on the floor. A mechanism rose around him. Slowly, a captain's uniform assembled around his body.
He crossed the bridge and walked over to debrief, taking a moment to pause and gaze out of a large, glass pane at Jupiter. You could never really get tired of the view, no matter what happened. Even on a day like today. Europa mission control was a crappy gig, but it had that going for it at least.
He slouched down awkwardly on the cold metal bench in debrief. Not like there was going to be an actual person stood here talking to him anyway. Bunch of anti-social jerks. A bright blue light flickered on a screen in the air in front of him. Too bright. A mysterious shadowy figure loomed on the screen, not showing its face as always. He was used to the drill by now.
"Captain Watts, this is Mission Control, preparing for debrief."
Watts sighed.
"Couldn't you just talk to me in my dorm? Don't really get why I have to always come out here just to have you speak to me in a different room..."
"Captain this is a serious situation. We ask that you prepare for next mission immediately."
"So what's all the fuss?" Asked watts, scratching himself awkwardly.
"We lost contact with Captain Walker the other day. He was dispatched to investigate the Dalia after we lost communication with the crew on board. We assumed he was dead, until we picked up an open communication from the ship. Now we are certain."
An audio clip played out through the room. The hangover didn't help, but those shrieks would've hurt in any condition.
"You are to investigate. We must find out what happened to Captain Walker. Assemble a team and report to Bridge Control when ready."
Watts stumbled out of the room. Who was he going to get to go investigate what he could only assume, from the horrible inhuman shrieking, was the portal to hell itself?
"I need to take a ship right now!" Came a shout from the lower deck.
There was a lot of commotion. A bunch of civilians were clamoring about a vessel where an officer stood on guard, miserably.
"Nobody can fly until we establish what happened to the Dalia, it's not safe."
The angry man spat on the floor with a snarl.
"I'm tired of all this talk. We want answers! Our families were on board that ship and now you're telling us the search and rescue needs rescuing?"
"I just can't allow it...it's not protocol..." Muttered the officer.
"To hell with the protocol!" Shouted the civilian. Others were rounding in on the officer. He was pretty outnumbered.
"It's okay Mike, they can take a ship!" Shouted Watts.
The officer looked up with a puzzled expression. Watts shrugged.
"Just so happens I'm putting a crew together to go see what's up with the Dalia. Need as many capable folks as I can lay hands on."
The officer frowned and glanced down at his feet. Watts knew the type. All about the protocol. Right now his brain was stuck in a loop of exploding protocols.
"Mission Control gave clearance to use a civilian crew?" Said the officer, disbelief and suspicion in his voice.
