[color=#aa33ff][u]Eastwing Ship [i]Nostromo[/i][/u][/color]
[hider=Image][img]https://s3.amazonaws.com/img.tagloom.com/sm/4015/lr94/5b27a165e7202e7e6d429c681d62c97fe82dc170.jpg[/img][/hider]
[color=#CCCCCC][u]Bridge Access Corridor[/u][/color]
The glossy black floor reflected the thin white strips of interior lighting down the corridor. Every foot or so, a panel jutted out from the cream-colored walls. Roger knew what was behind each panel only vaguely. A large vent was situated at waist height right before the bridge hatchway. He stopped there, in front of the hatchway.

"Rollins, Roger P," he said.
"Command voiceprint recognized. Welcome to the bridge, Captain," the hatchway said, opening politely.

Inside, the deck plates sloped downward, curving lazily around the captain's command chair. Space Fleet officers of varying rank were scattered around, pressing buttons, carrying reports, chatting quietly. The familiar beeps of the computer executing commands, the echoing hysradar, clacking buttons, and various pulsing and pounding hugged Captain Rollins' green ears. Banks of indicator lights flashed contentedly in corners.  Ensigns were constantly adjusting their skirts. Life was good.

What was not good, however, was the Unit 13 officer sitting in his command chair. The officer (easily identifiable by her distressingly black suit and pencil skirt) turned around in the chair dramatically, facing Captain Rollins with her hands steepled in front of her. A microdrone camera noiselessly flitted from around the captain's shoulder for a better view.

"You're in my chair," the captain said.
"Ah, Captain Rollins," she said, "I'm here to issue you new orders." Her hair (a very dark shade of purple) was tied back in a painful-looking  bun.
"...You're in my [i]chair[/i]," he said again. She rolled her eyes, but she also stood up, extending her hand.
"My code name is Amethyst. Shall we take this to the ready room?" she asked.

[color=#CCCCCC][u]Ready Room[/u][/color]
The ready room was long and narrow, and the ceiling curved with the hull of the ship. A black glass conference table sat in the center, its corners chamfered so that it was an (imperfect) hexagon. Roger sat down at the head of the table, motioning for Amethyst to take a seat at the opposite end.

"I take it you just arrived on board my ship?" he asked.
"Yes. I was graciously bluespaced from a diverted transport," Amethyst replied. Roger raised an eyebrow.
"That's an awful lot of trouble to go through."
"Yes." she replied. Roger sighed. Might as well get this over with.
"What do you need?" He asked.
"You are to divert to this location and engage in diplomatic negotiations to gain access to an important Ennedi archeological site," she said, tossing a handheld pad on the table with a clatter. "Xenos have neglected to invite us to share in their findings, which has become something of a trend. Apparently we're not taken very seriously in the galactic arena." Amethyst paused for a moment, lost in thought. "Once there, you will give me access to a shuttle. In the event of unforseen consequences, you will await my further instructions."
"Fantastic," he said. "I presume you'll be needing quarters?"
"If it's not too much trouble, Captain."

Roger glanced at the pad. It wasn't anywhere spectacularly interesting.

"Do I get to know anything else?"
"Do you [i]need[/i] to know anything else," she corrected, her eyes briefly flitting to a nearby microdrone. There were fewer of them on the [i]Nostromo[/i], being a Space Fleet ship, but they were still omnipresent. "And the answer is no."
"Of course," he muttered. Roger pressed a button inlaid to the table. "Ensign Malay, please escort our guest to quarters," he said into the intercom.

[color=#CCCCCC][u]Bridge[/u][/color]
Roger brooded in his command chair. 
"Commander Tallyn," he said, passing her the pad. "Set a course for these coordinates." 
"Sir?" she asked.
"We're going to be running a small errand." Roger pushed the ship-wide button. The computer obligingly supplied the appropriate boatswain's whistle. [i]"This is Captain Rollins speaking. We're diverting from our original course to commence diplomatic negotiations. The alert level is now blue. Security may have their weapons on their person, and random searches are authorized. Shields online. Rollins out."[/i]
"Course laid in and ship secured for bluespace translation, sir," Commander Tallyn said.
"Proceed," Captain Rollins ordered.

With a high-pitched whine, a thin orange circle circumscribed the [i]Nostromo[/i]. Small orange triangles crackled into and out of existence around and inside the ship. While these weren't strictly necessary, they did adequately illustrate where particularly troublesome nodes in bluespace were being resolved before the ship could jump. The whine quickly approached supersonic, out of hearing range.

"Translation will occur in one day and twenty-five minutes," Tallyn reported. Countdown clocks rotated into view along the major corridors with a mechanical buzz, and clicked into place. Their route would require several of these bluespace translations before they arrived in the Ennedi home system.