The Wanderer

[Thomas Richards]

Tom heard the call for the crew of the Lothlorien - now the crew of the Normandy - to proceed to their ship, and he looked over towards it. An Ambassador-refit class. Certainly different than the New Orleans, even if it did seem to have more thought put into odd aesthetics than purpose.

Tom sighed, and then held his head high and began to make his way to the Normandy.

[Thomas Richards]

As Tom stepped onto the observation platform of the main docking bay, he looked out at the masses of ships the base held. It was hard to believe so many ships could be held within one station, and it still having room for so many more. None of the regulars were there - the Rivendell, Evolution, Iroquois and the now-destroyed Lothlorien were all absent. Tom leaned on the railing of the observation platform and looked out over the ships, playing a game he always used to cool off. And so he stood there, naming the class of each of the ships he saw.

Nebula.

Akira.

Steamrunner.

Defiant.



He continued doing this until he had named every ship class present in the hangar, and then started reading the registry numbers of each of the ships, making up childish jokes and rhymes with each sequence of numbers in his head. It got him thinking about something other than the Director, and that was a good thing, as he was beginning to calm down now.