[center] 

[img]       http://pre01.deviantart.net/b0ce/th/pre/i/2012/236/1/1/space_v_2_by_savvid-d5c8oob.jpg       [/img] 

[i] “Tired of being constrained on earth? Tired of being held back by the shackles of mundane colony life? 

Start over, with the Lovis Superbia; your chariot to the heavens. 

Soar across the cosmos, and begin again on the far off world of Chyrodres. 

Greatness cannot be contained. Forge your own fate, amongst the stars.” [/i] [/center]

“Blimey, they sure have a high opinion of themselves.” Luciano Way observed dryly, as he sat with his family in the Imperial Lounge, the holographic announcement at the centre of the table slowly evaporated into nothingness. 

“I hope they don’t play that the entire time we’re here,” Luciano’s wife, Cathleen, said with a frown “that’s going to get really annoying after about three months.”

“It's already annoying.” Luciano grumbeled. 

The Imperial Lounge was fairly quiet, given that it was still breakfast hours. An expensive looking buffet was set up not too far from the Way’s table, and a few members of staff flittered about the place.

“I think I might go grab some grub.” Andromeda Way declared, heaving herself up out of her chair. 

“Alright, honey. Go easy on the pastries,” her mother began “you know how much-” 

“Oh, for god’s sake, Cathleen. Let the girl eat what she wants.” Luciano cut in, rolling his eyes. 

“Thank you, daddy.” Andromeda smirked, giving her father a light peck on the cheek.

The heavyset young woman skirted about the buffet, returning a few minutes later with a plate of Waffles, topped with cream and syrup. 

“So, are you going to this club thing tonight, Andie?” Luciano asked, once she’d sat back down. 

“Oh, the alt night at the Furnace? Yeah, I thought I might do.” 

“Would you mind taking your cousin?” he asked “Marcello was saying that she’s having trouble fitting in.” 

“Yeah, that should be fine,” Andromeda shrugged, tucking into her waffles “I dunno if its her kind of music, though.” 

“Thanks, Andie. I’m sure she’ll manage.” Her father gave a little nod of appreciation, pulling a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. 

“Luke, you know I don’t like you smoking around our daughter.” Cathleen hissed. 

“Calm yourself, woman. Its synthetic, not tobacco.” He waved her away with one hand, taking out his lighter. 

“Honestly. I’m surrounded by bloody Nazis.”