We Call Ourselves Kalaiah: Voice of Silent Earth

William's heart beat faster as he entered the ship. Its walls and floors were smooth, and everything that was not directly necessary was hidden from plain sight. The Renée Dahlia was a beautiful ship. Not that he'd ever doubted that, but this was just one more confirmation of its terrible beauty. William had seen various weapon systems as he had approached the ship, and realized that beyond the ship's beauty there was a terrible weapon of war. The paradox thrilled him for some reason.

11:55 now. Only 7 minutes before take-off. Another frantic checklist confirmed that, yes, he still had everything he was supposed to have with him, and yes, all the straps were secure. William's eager anticipation to board the ship was beginning to make way for his initial anxiety at going to a place he had never really known, and of which no one knew what had happened to it.

Yes mom, look at me... your space marine, in his handsome space-suit. It may be the last time you ever set eyes on him. "Why the hell am I doing this...?" he whispered. Then he squared his shoulders, tried to steady his breath and walked on further into the ship. They were going now. 5 Minutes remaining. No way back for him.

He tried not to let his anxiety show as he turned and asked "Where do we need to be at take-off? I assume we must all be seated and belted, right? In the cockpit, or is there some sort of crew-area?"