[indent][indent][i]The shimmering blues of Nautrias’ vast oceans are never ending. Its waters ignite like living glass when the sun refracts against its surface. The sound of churning waves are deafening, rolling, and thunderous, as if colossal machines are spurring them to life from down below. Diving into its depths is like jumping through a portal and into another world. 

Illuminating flora decorate the [b]Kujathi Reefs[/b] like sunken forests from a fairytale land. Not only does it contain the most abundant plant life in the area, it is also home to the largest and most diverse communities on the planet. The floating rock formations anchored by roots grown from the deep ground are known as the [b]Swaying Coves[/b]. It is a massive labyrinth, perfect for pirates and all other nefarious types. 

[b]The Sunken Isles[/b] is an ancient remnant of an old Droquilian civilization. Its  marble structures and toppled architecture peak between the growing algae and coral life that thrive here.  The blistering current of [b]The Roaring Swells[/b] is powered by the gale winds on its surface. It stretches for hundreds of miles, serving as a massive transit speedway. 

Then, there is the [b]Rycort Trench[/b], an expansive trough that is over 3,000 kilometers deep. It is the home to many great sea creatures, as well as other, more aggressive species, that’ve isolated themselves from the rest of Nautrias.

While it is all so very beautiful to marvel at, its people are truly what makes this planet shine. There is a rich history embedded into its watery landscapes, the remnants of old civilizations etched throughout. The many customs, cultures, and traditions of the droquilian and their subspecies is simply magnificent. Worth preserving. We must rip this planet free from Obsidian’s Hand’s vice grip and restore its natural order. This much I know.[/i][/indent][/indent]

[center]- USS Explorer Emeri Vercheon[/center]

[hr]

[CENTER][COLOR=0072bc][B]CHAPTER 1[/B][/COLOR]

[img]https://i.pinimg.com/474x/59/6f/cb/596fcb8070c625bc51801cec92e163ed--hd-widescreen-wallpapers-star-citizen.jpg[/img]

[color=0072bc]♦[/color] [b]Character:[/b] Captain Weaver Sinclaire
[color=0072bc]♦[/color] [b]Her Location:[/b] United Star Sector Islands - Trident HQ - 1st floor

[hider=the scenario] There is a gathering in Trident HQ for all members, old and new for a special celebration. Tonight marks the end of a successful campaign, and also serves as a welcoming party for new personnel. Rear Admiral Gildeon Omarkei is expected to make a guest appearance.[/hider]
[hider=basic floor plan of HQ]
[color=0072bc]♦[/color] Located on western coastline of United Star Sector Islands. 
[color=0072bc]♦[/color] Its ivory architectural design is reminiscent of a flattened jelly head.
[color=0072bc]♦[/color] There are four floors total: 
- 1st floor is general lobby and recreational center.
- 2nd floor is the armory 
- 3rd floor is the residential area
- Basement sector is training facility with underwater compartments, with gangway that leads to docking area.      
[/hider]
[/center]

[indent][indent]

Captain Weaver Sinclaire closed Emeri Vercheon’s old journal and tucked it away in one of the back pockets of her dark blue Trident uniform. She meditated on his words like they were sacred texts, searching for a morsel of renewed vigor as Trident’s leader. A cyclical year has passed since Trident was green lit, and it was a rough start, to say the least. Navigating through Nautrias’ waters was one thing, establishing diplomacy and trust with the Coalition community was a whole other turbulent environment in itself. 

She lost good people. Some Trident members quit, others simply couldn’t handle the work. Only one member of her team died. Rear Admiral Omarkei told her that was a victory in on itself, but it certainly didn’t feel like one. Every time they were making great strides, there was always something waiting to take them several paces back. But the higher ups seemed to like their progress, and even went so far as to give them upgraded equipment and additional personnel.  

“Would you like something to drink, Captain?” The waitstaff’s voice was high pitch, like nails to a chalk board for her augmented hearing. 

She combed back a strand of her silver hair to quickly adjust the frequency nodule on the back of her left ear. She shooed the waitstaff away, her azure blue eyes flashing irritably. He bowed his head, apologized profusely for having existed in her bubble, then scurried off into the crowd like a timid gnarlfish. 

Weaver was surprised at the turnout. There were only twenty Trident members, and the rest of the eighty-something in attendance were random USS officers, with some off-worlder contractors littered throughout. Drinks and conversation were flowing, whether seated at their designated tables, or wall flowering throughout the premises. 

Some were even dancing to the [url=https://pin.it/bivyxhmuqr3rfz]octogadian’s[/url] one-man band routine. It floated inside of a large water capsule, not because it couldn’t live on the surface, but because the music he played required a specific acoustic underwater. The speakers absorbing the sounds relayed what Weaver could best describe as upbeat whale songs with synthesized sounds of the deep. Each odd-looking instrument held in the octogadian’s many tentacles flickered with bioluminescence, adding a whole new dimension to the term: live instruments.  

The entire area had a slight make over, a necessary renovation to accommodate for the higher ups in attendance. The giant mess hall’s usual spartan display was decked out with flair. USS, Trident, and Coalition banners hung from the high ceilings; The decorative colors of white, dark blue, and green symbolizing their partnership. Holographic light fixtures brought the area to life with colors that mimicked the deep blue seas. The sunset that glistened through the large windows, and the soft winds drifting from the balcony entranceways made it feel like a high end resort. 

Chairs and tables were repositioned into a half circle to face a raised podium. A holographic display of the Trident’s emblem rotated in the background. Weaver cringed when she looked at the stage. She’d have to make a speech tonight, one that she only started preparing for this afternoon. The Captain suddenly regretted scaring the waitstaff away.

“I need a drink...” She sighed.  

[/indent][/indent]