There is always that moment in fleet warfare where all the ships are not changing their tactical vectors, however due to the sheer vastness of space we have a minute where all we are doing is closing to engagement range. I stand at the observation deck of my cruiser, my eyes blankly stare out into space as my mind replays sights from my childhood.
A child drawing in the sand engaging my friend in a battle of the imagination. I always stood for something noble, but truth be told so did the other children. Only I took this to the academy with me, I was the one who spent sleepless nights whitling time away in the simulation managing maneuvers, guiding wings and drawing lines. But even now, I fight to be remembered as one who stood for something noble, just like the guy. History is afterall written by the victor.
A laser flashes in my peripheral vision and a soft voice booms over the comms "Admiral the Marsouin has engaged the enemy, t minus one minute until we are in long engagement range".
I look out once more at the view, the stars, even in this day and age, so distant, even in this age...
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