“It’s been WEEKS and still nothing.” Lord Danton Maelon shouted from his place in the command chair. The S.S New Dawn was entering the sixth week of its mission to explore the expanses of space,  make contact with other possibly human civilizations and to establish report with said species. Yet, despite the fact that Lord Maelon's vessel was picking up various signals from the space before them, they had yet to make contact with little more than pebbles. 

“Your Lordship, I’m sure if we stay headed on this course we will make contact.” Knight-Commander Kennick said from his position seated beside the anxious nobleman. 

“You’d best hope we do Commander. Or I’ll make sure your next assignment is in as remote of a place as I can find, surrounded by the filthiest subhumans imaginable.”

“Yes my lord.” 

“Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to retire to my chambers. Have a squire fetch me some Anduran brandy and perhaps some Kovian boar for dinner.” 

“I’ll have it sent as soon as possible, my lord.” 

“Excellent, you have the bridge, Commander.” Lord Maelon quickly stood from the command chair and made his way off the bridge without another word. As he made his way through the elegant interior of the ship— one which appeared to be designed more as a mansion than a military vessel— only stopping for a moment in the mess-hall to take note of some junior enlisted men and A.I soldiers competing in an arm wrestling match. While the A.I tended to win, it was good fun for the men to try, and while Lord Maelon was by all accounts an asshole, he understood the ways in which morale affected his troops and was pleased to see that at least their spirits were still high. 

He continue down the corridors of the ship and as he approached the door to his chambers, Cheris, his personal attendant began a barrage of information that would be for the most part dismissed. 

“My lord, a few important messages have come back us via the long range satcom from Edyr. First and foremost, in your absence the council of Lords has elected Sir Thomas Rooth to sit in your place. Obviously you have final approval on the matter, but given he is your nephew, it is presumed that it will not be a problem. Secondly, the subhuman rebellion on Tycus was finally put down after last month’s debacle at the battle of Conis. And finally, it appears that the New Edyr colony plans have been finalized, so as soon as a suitable world is found, the council has voted that you initiate the establishment of the first outpost.”

Lord Maelon stopped in his tracks, just a few steps into his quarters. “What was that last part again, Cheris?

“The council has voted and they have decided that as an addition to your mission you will now be responsible for finding a suitable planet for the New Edyr colony. Your lordship.” Cheris said, his face a cold stone of features that displayed a complete lack of emotion that would be almost impossible without the use of genetic modification.

Not yet responding, Lord Maelon moved toward the bar and began to fix himself a drink. Strong liquor and a splash of water.

“So you mean to tell me I’m to be stuck on this infernal ship for even longer?” Lord Maelon inquired in between swigs.

“My Lord, the New Dawn is one of the most capable in the Sovereignty's Navy. It has been equipped with your comf…”

“It’s not about the damn ship, Cheris.”

“My lord?”

“They’re trying to keep me from home. The Lord Minister’s supporters know I will run against him in the next year’s election, and they know I’d win too. So they are keeping me away and using these ‘diplomatic missions’ as a guise for political exile. The other lords and ladies are blind to this facade, but I see right through it. I see it as it is.” 

“Ah, I too now see, my Lord.”

“And best you do.” Lord Maelon responded, finishing his drink. 


————————————————————
BACK ON THE BRIDGE

“Still picking up that signal on the long range scanners, lieutenant?” The knight-commander asked, as he stood in the center of the bridge, looking out the main viewer. 

“Still picking up the same steady signal. It’s close, just over a parsec and a half away, Sir.”

“Continue course for it’s source. For the Sovereignty.”

And all of the deck officers responded, “For the Sovereignty.”