Last moments in OP's

These are the events that took place in operations just prior to the Elyseum shuttle docking with the Celestra.

Present in OP's were Gill Graner, one of the navigation crew of the Celestra and a hardworking sensors analyst from the Galactica crew, Alice Hamilton. The two has elected to stay in OP's
to cover for any eventuality. The Celestra is steaming towards the galactic north at a leisurely 40 ppm.

All of the rest of the brigre crew from Galactica and Celestra had just recently been called away to meet with the tylons.  With them leaving and the adrenalin from the laste battle - being concluded only minutes ago - ebbing away, a still tiredness lowered itself in OP's. The ship was still humming, the plating was creaking melodiously as the course correction thrusters fired. There was still a good 15 minutes until the estimated time to arrival of the Elyseum shuttle.

 Graner, who had just recieved a wartime promotion from the chief mate, held the bridge with a determination to see this thing trough by the book. Driven by a need to prove himself a useful crewmate and by a newfound relief of actually having a chance of surviving he started cleaning up the OP's center. Removing the old tactical plot and preparing for a new, should the need arise. Sharpening the plotting pencils, resetting the stopwatches and so on. This was the time for  silent reflection of the events of the day, wondering how his mates in the navigation crew were doing...

 DRADIS CONTACT! - the sensor analys shouted out with a sharp voice. -A bottomles pit opened up in Graner's soul, the shuttle isn't due until at least ten minutes.

 <Dradis, Hamilton> Direction 35, distance 450.
 <Tactical plot, Graner> New contact, starting a new tactical plot at 5:32:15...   Can you give me a classification of that contact?
 <Dradis> Negative, no identification.
 <Tactical> Is it the shuttle?
 <Dradis> Can't tell..

 Frack frack frack - Nothing good ever comes early.

 <Tactical> Combat rules apply, New contact hostile - designation Omega one.  -Whatever happens, we wont need any more contact letters after this.

 <Dradis> Update contact omega one. Direction 35, Distance 400.
 <Tactical> They are coming in hot too, update in on the plot *computing*. Contact omega one is on an intercept course, time to intercept 3 minutes.
 
What are our options? -We can't jump, can't fire torpedos and the self defence guns seem to have been disconnected by Vergis. Evasive manouvers are still possible but we won't last long against a warship with malicious intent...
 
  <Tactical> We'll stay on course 0, hoping for the best...  
  silence...
  <Dradis> Update contact omega one. Direction 40, Distance 300.
 
  With all words spent, a new silence took a deathly grip in OP's - The relief previously present was now exchanged for fear.
  <Dradis> Update contact omega one. Direction 45, Distance 200.
  <Tactical> Update is on the plot, Target speed is at least 100 ppm, time to intercept 2 minutes.
 
  Graner gripped the edges of the plotting table with a hard grip, leaning his head backwards to
  look at the photograph of his son that he'd taped to the ceiling in OP's.
 
  <Dradis> Update contact omega one. Direction 50, Distance 100.
  Not bothering to enter the last update in the plot, Graner says: 
  <Tactical> Stand by for docking procedure. -We don't have time to get it on a public call before they notice it anyways.
 
  Shortly afterwards the metallic clang of the docking arm sounds throughout the ship.
  <Graner> It seems at it was the shuttle after all.
 
  Tension fading away again, and eventually the remains of the bridge crews starts to filter back to op's