MISSION POST: Shi Maro Space Station - Day 47 - OPEN
The air was one of breathless anticipation as all off duty personnel - military and civilian, Aian and Marosi - lined the viewports to watch the Starfleet ship come in to dock. Murmurs raced through the watching crowd at her strange design, at the unfamiliar words emblazoned across her hull.
Next to the bulk of Shi Maro she was dwarfed. The station was miles across, the gateway to the world below: cargo ships vied for airspace with military cruisers and civillian transports. And below, stretching all the way down to disappear in the clouds below, the impossibly slender-seeming silver threads of the space elevators that transported people and goods to and from the planet.
Aian culture favoured military efficiency over ceremony, but nevertheless an effort had been made to be welcoming to their guests from the Federation. The largest of the mess halls had been cleared to play host to a function in their honour. Marosi politicians mingled with higher-ranking members of the Aian military, drinks in hand, and here and there politely wary representatives from Laiyka and Eiyal. Catering staff moved through the crowd with trays of canapes.
A hundred pairs of eyes trained instantly on the doors as their guests entered, only to immediately wander nonchalantly elsewhere. The conversation fell away for a moment only to resume at increased intensity. The game was afoot. Only time, however, would tell who the players were going to be.
Next to the bulk of Shi Maro she was dwarfed. The station was miles across, the gateway to the world below: cargo ships vied for airspace with military cruisers and civillian transports. And below, stretching all the way down to disappear in the clouds below, the impossibly slender-seeming silver threads of the space elevators that transported people and goods to and from the planet.
Aian culture favoured military efficiency over ceremony, but nevertheless an effort had been made to be welcoming to their guests from the Federation. The largest of the mess halls had been cleared to play host to a function in their honour. Marosi politicians mingled with higher-ranking members of the Aian military, drinks in hand, and here and there politely wary representatives from Laiyka and Eiyal. Catering staff moved through the crowd with trays of canapes.
A hundred pairs of eyes trained instantly on the doors as their guests entered, only to immediately wander nonchalantly elsewhere. The conversation fell away for a moment only to resume at increased intensity. The game was afoot. Only time, however, would tell who the players were going to be.