Space Fortress Auroria, essentially a floating city in orbit around Earth. This massive military installation was Earth's primary bastion of defense, the complex was a multi-role military platform, staging area, shipyard, and command center. Within this massive installation sat a similarly massive ship, preparing itself for its maiden voyage. One of the six brand new Chevalier Class Battlecruisers, The Vigilance, would begin its journey soon. 

[i]"All registered personnel to Unit Code 32-97-42 report to Hanger Bay Alpha. The Vigilance is now making final preparations for departure."[/i]

It was about time too, the pilots of the 53rd Wing were getting restless, In the relative safety of the Sol System, there wasn't much for the pilots to do other than fly routine, empty, patrol runs. The sound of the PA system had torn Dominic away from the restless wanderings of his mind. He was laying on his bed in his now-bare quarters, hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling waiting for time to pass. He sprung off the bed almost instantaneously and grabbed his jacket from the corner of the bed. He pulled the flight jacket on, the skull patch that was his squadron emblem on his shoulder prominent and clean. All of his belongings had either already been moved onto the ship, or was in the duffelbag that sat in the middle of the room. Easily looping the duffel around his shoulder and behind him, Dominic went to the door and paused, turning around to give the room that had been his home for the last age a last look over. He spat into the center of the room and smirked. Good riddance.

Not soon later, Dominic was walking into Hangar Bay Alpha, where the Vigilance sat waiting. To call it a hangar bay was a bit of an understatement. Hangar Bay Alpha was fully capable of fitting the entire warship inside of it, with plenty of space for people to walk around and do work. It was probably able to fit a pair of Sagittarius Class destroyers comfortably inside of it if the Vigilance wasn't in there. Near the entrance of the hangar, Dominic saw several individuals with flight jackets, marking them as fighter pilots. Several had the skull patch that Dominic did, marking them as members of his squadron, whereas a few others had red emblems marking them as of the other squadron. There was a bit of a light hearted rivalry going on between the two squadrons, and the pilots were joking and jostling one another when Dominic approached.

"Hawkins!" one of his own pilots called out, walking over to greet the squadron leader. "Its about time we finally got off this fucking station huh?" the pilot said, holding out his hand. The pilot was young and fresh faced, but the pin on his jacket marked him as a veteran, on his breast, his nameplate identified him as Loch.

"Ryan," Dominic greeted him as he clasped the pilots hand firmly, "Looks like you boys are getting along rather well." Ryan Loch was a good pilot, he was approachable, competent, and responsible, and had the makings of a leader in him. Ryan's brow furrowed for a moment and he leaned in a bit closer.

"I was talking to Donnelson, from Red Squadron," Loch said in a hushed tone. "Guess who's replacing Britt as Squadron Leader?" Looking over Dominic's shoulder for a moment to make sure who he was about to name wasn't there, he looked back at Dominic was serious eyes. "Akula. Fucking Akula. Every squadron he's been a part of has been torn apart and ripped to shreds. But guess who always makes it out alive? This guy's bad luck man."

Dominic clapped Loch on the shoulder and gave him a grimace. "That's all superstition Loch. We make do with the hand we're dealt, we take care of our own, Red Squadron included."