Author Topic: Heretic, Hero  (Read 3073 times)

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Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.
Edit: Kudoz to Turnsky for tweaking the image and generally making it more ub3r!! :D



Once upon a time, this system was known as a paradise; a virtual haven to one and all.

For the rich and wealthy; it served as a vacation spot where one could get away from the stresses and workload that came with their regular lives. To the poor and less well-off masses, it proved to be a lucrative job market, with a plethora of needs and requirement for workers and laborers to support the rich in their many vices. To the artists, philosophers and writers, this placed proved to be a virtual haven where they could express their works, beliefs and stories. Most people were happy here, with only the few normal exceptions and misfits that came with most societies. Till recently, they were only the few exceptions; mere drops of oil in a vast, clear blue sea.

But then, oil has a habit of spreading. And so it did...although the seeds of discontent and the rife of war were far from this planet; fear, hatred and discontent spread across the galaxy. Faster than light, faster than life, it had settled itself in here, causing a degree of unruliness. The paradise began to grow blotches of conflict and strife, marring it's pristine beauty with blood and tears. It was surprising how fast the hatred spread and how far the general feeling against of oppression had spread. What was even more surprising however, was the swift reaction by the controlling authority. They garrisoned this world, using the revolts as an excuse for the military. Although the rich and the wealthy still went there, gone were the workers; replaced by military machines; gone were the artists and philosophers; replaced by soldiers and tacticians. Lakes of clear water turned dark as they were shadowed by massive installations from orbit.

And so Delta Tranquility became one of the bastions of civilized humanity. And it was not just a bastion, but an impregnable one of the highest order. Almost invulnerable and equally well-armed, nobody could enter if they were deemed unworthy.

Despite having heard so much of it however; it gave little concern to the recon pilot currently inbound to the system. This was simply another routine assignment intelligence had given to her; and it seemed somewhat random, considering the fact that she was normally deployed to more 'hot' zones with the most conflict.....

The cockpit was like most other recon fighters; aesthetically minimal with a more functional aim in mind. Comfort was little concern here, and most ordinary pilots (especially those who flew the heavy bombers) found it too cramped for use. But she was used to it; after all, 20 years of experience did have it's worth. Instrument panels covered almost the entire lower part of the interior, each one emitting a glow that reflected off the helmet and space suit that she wore. It created a permanent barrier of sorts around her body and legs - which disappeared under yet another panel that extended halfway to her waist. A small hologram emitted from the panel, showing a three-dimensional representation of the space around her. To either side were control yolks, which when combined with the foot pedals, would assist in controlling the ship's movements in any direction. Although each panel glowed brightly, there were three primary monitors that cast the most light. The one directly ahead, just beyond and above the hologram displayed the current target information and trajectory; while the one to the left showed the current systems status, while the one on the right - which, unsurprisingly, was the most empty- showed the operation of the weapon's systems. Other than that however, a transparent canopy allowed the full view of the entire night sky ahead of her and to her sides, as well as directly above.

To a new pilot, all this was incredibly overwhelming and even after they learnt the basics, it either took years of practice in the academy to get used to it....or less than two days of duty on a front-line battleship or carrier, assuming they survived their first few sorties with the enemy.

Of course, she had plenty of both, allowing her the skills to maneuver through the many asteroids that littered the outer edges of the system. Having exited from FTL speed, these now posed little challenge to move through with the tiny fighter. Weaving around each one, the sun faded in and out as she went around them. Many of the asteroids dwarfed her small fighter, with the smallest being the same size. Most of them were slow moving however, allowing for quick and easy dodging. However, capital craft may have found it harder to move here, and would have jumped in closer to the system.

Adjusting the empty weapons display, the pilot pressed a few controls, causing a rather loud launch sound to be heard from the rear. The display turned for static for a second before turning to a display of an external view of the ship from her left hand side.

Tiny was the word to describe it. Unlike the behemoth 50 or 60 meter-long heavy bombers, her recon craft was barely 12 meters in length, and half that in width. Basically a large cockpit built on top of an engine pod, the dark blue and black hull sported a 2 meter long, smooth wing to either side, as well as one extending above and below. Towards the end, they angled back smoothly to meet the body again just before the main rear thruster. Blue lines ran along these wings, casting a dark glow along the edge, outlining the craft, but not so much to the point where it was too visible. The rest of the hull was a mixture of dark blue and black, with the exception of around the cockpit area, where the canopy radiated light outwards and towards the rear. Directly underneath the canopy were a small group of symbols. The cockpit ended just a meter short of the nose, which extended outwards into a sharp point. The craft was clearly designed for fast movement and maneuverability, as signified by the series of thruster nozzles that pocked the hull in a long line, stretching from fore to aft. Every so often, during a maneuver or a barrel roll around and over an asteroid, these nozzles would flare up, release a flame that extended several meters before being extinguished by the icy cold of space.

The most interesting thing however, was the logos on the side of the nose. The primary one was hard to determine, for a majority was dark, blending in with the hull too easily. However, due to effective shading as well as specifically colored brighter parts, one could make out the figure of a cloaked person facing away; or, judging from the dark scythe the person wielded; one would easily recognize it as the traditional reaper of ancient lore. Facing away, at some unseen landscape, the figure seemed to be hunched over a bit, leaning on the scythe for support. Right next to the image of the figure was the words "108th Dark Reapers", indicative of the squad's name. Right below that were several smaller images - top-down images of what seemed like several different fighters and bombers, actually. All in all, there were 48 of them. 48 kills; some civilizations would have viewed it as only a few, but when one talked about the enemy they were fighting, it immediately became a sign of an ace and very old pilot.

The pilot pressed a few buttons, canceling the view and detonating the drone. She checked the ship status, and cancelled the fuel leak alert that had made her send out the thing in the first place. She continued to pilot onwards, going deeper into the system. Normally, one would expect the combs. Chatter here to be rife with that of the ships that passed through, as well as the stations. Yet the small communications panel to the right was blank; there was only silence in the system, and the only thing she could hear was Command speaking into the radio, trying to reach anyone, as well as relaying orders to her. The voice was low, yet somewhat deep. It was definitely male; but someone in the communications had screwed up, and turned the volume up, causing some of the voice to spill out of the helmet. You could see the pilot wince a little every time Command spoke. At least, it was like that till she got fed up and switched it to external speakers instead. The voice clearly blared through the speakers, filling the till-then silent cockpit the voice.

"This is Allied Command to Delta Tranquility IV defense system, please respond! Is anyone out there?"

When no response came, the pilot simply shook her head and muttered something under her breath. Command, however, heard it loud and clear.

"I heard that pilot; and yes, this IS how loud I speak. Curse one more time and I'll have you demoted."

Again, the pilot muttered something.

"I don’t CARE how many times I say that! Today's bad enough of a day for me to actually go through with the threat!"

In reply, the pilot just sighed and kept silent. The person over at Command continued speaking, as if nothing has happened.

"Never mind, I'm just receiving the local sensor readings from your ship. It appears your local vicinity has suffered a massive gravitational change or shift. It also appears you have entered a thicker part of the asteroid belt. Authority is on the way to increase sensor band to Delta so you can scan the entire system."

Again, the pilot mumbled something in reply.

"What did you say? You've got to stop mumbling otherwise we're not going to understand a word you say!"

"I SAID, it feels exactly like that here! I've been flying through these damn asteroids for fifteen minutes now!! Hell, I've even passed Delta Tranquility VI! If you leave me flying blind out here, you're obviously going to get no data you know!"

The pilot spat back, her tone irritated and filled with some anger.

"Well, the authority has just come in. Set your sensor levels to delta; with the installation not responding to an in-system source, it seems stealth is no longer an issue here. Something MUST be seriously wrong here."

The pilot simply sighed. She acknowledged and adjusted a few settings, setting the sensor inputs to the specified level. It took up more power and made the craft significantly less stealthy; but it significantly boosted the range of the sensors to include the entire system, as opposed to just the local area around her right now. Keying the display to show up on the right monitor, she knew that Command must have been studying the data as well.

Then she froze....she just froze, staring at the data and translating it, with realization slowly dawning upon her of what it was saying. The person at command came to this realization as well, and spoke out what she was thinking...

"Nothing........the sensors are reading....nothing where Delta Tranquility IV or V should be...How is that even possible?! What happened to the planets and defenses??!"

"......I think I might know, since I'm pretty much flying through it......" the pilot spoke out softly, a touch of sadness in her voice...what command had not seen, and what she had just noticed after rounding the gas giant Delta Tranquility VI was the sun. While this was not unusual by itself, it was what was in front of the sun that concerned her the most. Sensors now picked up what she suspected. Delta Tranquility IV and V no longer existed. Both planets, bastions of their power and control, were now nothing but a rapidly expanding field of asteroid and debris that was slowly forming a ring around the sun, partially blocking out her view. The sun was now wobbling slightly off-centre due to the difference in gravity, and the outer parts of the system would more than likely re-arrange themselves due to this.....

She couldn't think of a word for it. Disaster was the closest she could come to it, but somehow it didn't seem large enough to encompass this.

"......what...the...." Command spoke out, equally shocked at the news. No doubt, behind him, everyone else must have paused in their work, also staring at the picture that she was transmitting to them.

A million thoughts raged through her head; ranging from why to how and then finally to whom. Who could have done this? She did not know the number of lives that had been on the planet....but it had to be in the billions to say the least. And yet, something or someone had come here, and within the span of 24 hours, had wiped out everything. Could this have all been a disaster....or could it have been murder? Genocide even?

For several seconds, the channel stayed quite, and the pilot didn't move. It was hard to judge her expression due to the reflection from the helmet visor. But the way she reacted after that pause, after the thinking; one could easily see the feelings of rage, anger and sadness.

She jumped into action, stepping on the accelerator and pushing the small fighter forwards. There had to be some clue, some information - something, anything that would explain what happened here. Distances that had previously taken her almost a half hour to traverse now became a few seconds as the engines accelerated to a high velocity.

As she approached the area where the planets were supposed to be, she slowed down, studying the sensors for anything. But they showed the same as before: severe gravitational anomalies and massive radiation.

But she could feel it; feel it in her bones and gut. Something was off here...some was not quite right. For this to have occurred naturally was impossible, which indicated that they had been here. Command had this suspicion as well when they spoke up.

"Pilot, new orders. Run a search; look for survivors or anything else. Elements of the 6th and the 8th fleets are moving to assist. Whatever took this out has to be significant. Do not engage any hostiles you see, I repeat, do NOT engage! Your objective is to gather intelligence here, not get re-"

Looking at the rubble around her ship, she cut off Command before they could finish the sentence. "Command. An unknown number of billion people just died here, and you are fricking telling me to not to get revenge? The only reason I'm actually here is because I’m trying to find a damn trail to where they went, so that we can fo-"

Then she froze. As the fighter rounded a rather large piece of debris nearly 10 kilometers in diameter, it came into view just behind it.

"Pilot! Is everything all right?"

The pilot ignored him, instead focusing on the thing ahead, her voice suddenly going raspy and soft. Her tone changed to reflect one of pure fear, a sentiment that was echoed by many at Command as they too, saw what she did.

"Oh...my...God." the pilot muttered, unmoving; simply staring directly ahead.

Directly ahead of her was what could be described simply as 6 Kilometers of sheer and utter terror.

The object in question was a ship, or more precisely, the enemy's siege carrier. At nearly six kilometers in length, the ship had a somewhat blocky body, which ended in two long arms towards the front. On top of the arms were massive triple-barreled turrets, each nearly a kilometer in length and a quarter of a kilometer wide. Each turret had yellow lines in a few spots, and a cylindrical object at the rear, towards the top. Just behind this was another pair of the same turrets, instead on a higher section of the arm, before it thinned down. The entire front section reminded the pilot of the older WWI era battleships they had studied about in history. Although terran design had mostly abandoned such notions, apparently the enemy hadn't. What was more fearful however, was the turret in the centre. Almost double the length and size of the other turrets, it was in the centre of the front array, as if the entire ship was focused on that one weapon, with the others being just accessories. It was massive, to say the least, and made the other guns look like nothing. Just behind this turret, the hull thickened and went upwards at an angle before reaching a flat plateau, upon which the bridge structure rested. The bridge structure was tall, and based upon a thick tower that connected to the plateau. It was wide as well, with the sides thinning down to find points from which wingtip structures protruded upwards, giving it the form of a neat wing. To either side, the arms extended backwards in the form of supports, reaching all the way to a set of rear engines. The hull extended out behind the bridge to a much lower panel, upon which rested a smaller turret much like the triple-barreled ones, except that it was missing a barrel. Just after this was another panel, nearly a kilometer long, it stretched all the way to the rear, and appeared to be some sort of hangar. To either side of the support from front to rear, wings began about where the bridge structure started, and stretched to either side, curving back and ending when they reached the same point as where the ship ended. They were very thick, and unlike the wings on some ships she had seen, they were completely connected to the hull, not just pieces angled outwards and left there.

From what she could see, the entire hull was lined with deadly anti-fighter missile and machine gun turrets. Any one could easily take out her fighter, but yet in front of here were over a hundred of them.

"Holy. ****. Database recognizes the configuration - Triest Class Siege Carrier. We knew Delta Tranquility IV had been attacked by a couple of battlecruisers recently, but they managed to destroy them. Don't tell me that thing managed to get through the defense network! It doesn't have the firepower required to remove 15 layers of planetary shielding for heaven's sake! And it would have been destroyed before it got close enough to fire the main gun too!"

Command exclaimed. The tone of shock was still there in his voice.

"Well command, they did. I dont know how, but they sure as hell have done it, and now they must pay for it!" The pilot replied back, her voice filled with anger and rage.  One could see from the way she moved, the way she manipulated the controls, that her mind was filled with the desire to do something, anything against the enemy ship; to avenge the death the enemy had just caused.

Command sighed before repying.

"As much as I want to order you to do something, there isn't much you can do other than sit and wait. Both fleets are on the way, just sit tight a-"

Command never got to finish the sentence as static blared out on the channel, cutting him off. Somewhat confused, the Pilot examined the communications panel and cursed. Someone was jamming command! This meant that they probably knew that she was-

Her thought was cut off as well, as a beam lashed out from one of the bridge's wingtips, enveloping the ship in a bright purple glow. The pilot had to raise her hand to the visor to block out the light. A second or two later, she lowered it, somewhat surprised to find that she was still alive. Looking around her, she realized that the control panels were all dark, leaving her stranded. The beam had shut down all the power in her ship! And from the looks of it, it was also pulling her towards it. The ship grew larger and larger, till it finally filled the entire canopy. Panicking, she tried to restore power as much as possible, but working at the controls did nothing and they remained dead. All she could do was sit back and wait…wait till either the beam let her go, or the carrier blew her up to hell and back.

She watched as the beam pulled her towards the carrier’s port support, just behind the arm. She saw a section of the arm just in-between twin series of turrets go dark, before lighting again in the form a sequence of glowing arrows. They pulsed periodically, in a sequence that acted not unlike directional lights. In this case, they were pointing towards the rear of the craft. She frowned. Now this was unusual, to say the least.

The beam left her fighter craft just at the start of the support structure, right behind the massive turret. After it vanished, her fighter’s systems came back up, albeit at minimum status. Checking the engines, she cursed – they could only move at 10% at most, and the FTL drive was out as well. Looking down, towards the hull, she saw two lines of turrets to either side. They had to be over a dozen in each line; probably two from the looks of it. Unfortunately, each and every one of those turrets was now pointed directly at her. With such limited speed as it is, she had no chance for escape whatsoever.

So, seeing little choice, the pilot cautiously increased the speed, moving the small fighter forwards along the direction of the arrows. The ship moved at a slow crawl across the hull; a mere speck upon it’s vastness. A few seconds later, she breathed a sigh of relief as none of them opened fire on her. But nonetheless, they continued to track her fighter, ready to fire if she went astray. Cursing to herself, she looked around, trying to find some route of escape. But it was almost useless.

Instead, she looked at the ship itself, studying it carefully. Perhaps there was useful information to find here, something she could take back to command. Her intelligence training didn’t fail her as she cautiously set the port camera to focus in on the windows in the block underneath the bridge. The port side monitor came on, acknowledging the command. It initially showed the view that she could see now, with little difference.

Then it slowly began to zoom in. Windows which were previously points of light began to grow in size. At about 3 or 4x zoom, the Camera’s magnification maxed out. It was just enough to get a good view of the scene inside the windows. It moved a bit too fast and was quite blurry due to the fighter’s speed, so she slowed it down a bit to get a better view.

What she saw quite literally shocked her.

She had expected to see inside the windows either parts of long corridors, recreation or observation areas, or personal quarters, not to mention people moving about in them. All three were present, and there were definitely people there. However, none of them were moving about. Each one of them either wore some strange kind of full-body armor, or plain drab clothes, but with a visor or mask over their faces. They were clearly humanoid, of not completely human in size and appearance. The only thing that gave the mystery however, were the faces. She had expected them to be working, walking around or doing the usual tasks that came about with running a starship.

Instead, as the view passed by each window, she observed that each one was standing facing the window…facing her in particular. Standing at attention, right hand up to their heads in a sharp and crisp salute. As she passed by each window, the hands lowered, and the people in the next one raised theirs, much like what one would expect in a military parade when soldiers paid their respects to the leader, or an important figure.

She was shocked, to say the least. They must either be incredibly crazy, or somehow, she was a very important person for some incredibly strange reason. She threw out both options almost immediately. The rage subsided, leading directly to curiosity. What the hell was going on here?

This enemy, they were known to be ruthless, merciless and supposedly without honor. They had committed massacres and outright genocide for some unknown reason. Every fiber in her being wanted to believe this, to throw it’s hate and rage against them out of the thirst for revenge. She had lost too many friends, too many comrades to this enemy. She knew almost everything about them – their tactics, their methods and how the went about doing their business.

But at the same time, judging from what she had just witnessed, she knew nothing about them either. Nothing about their motives, or why they did what they did. Nobody knew this throughout known space. Questioning every other planet, every other known surviving sentient species simply yielded more questions than answers. They only knew that they came every once in a while, attacked everything and then continued on for some unknown reason. They were without mercy; killing everyone and everything with a ruthlessness unseen till today. She had only heard stories from the ground of the devastation their land invasions left in their wake…yet, oddly, now that she thought about it, she also remembered hearing several rumors….rumors about the strange and odd behavior that occurred not during the battle, but after it. Of course, these were all but rumors, totally unsubstantiated and without any backing. But in light of what she had seen…perhaps they couldn’t be completely true, now could they?

As she approached the end of ship, the arrow signs below her changed, now turning to face left, indicating for her to proceed to the hangar. Here, too, turrets tracked her every movement, so she could do little but comply. As she turned the hangar wall she saw the massive entrance loom in front of here. Visible here were four ramps; the outer two having arrow signs pointing inwards, with the words ‘ENTRY’ clearly written just at the lip of the entrance. The centre lanes had arrows pointing outwards with the words ‘exit’ written on them. Clear directional and safety marks; very handy in case of emergencies when you needed some sign of where to go.

Right now only the port side directional arrows were lit, and the other entries/exits were all dark. Walls extended to the sides of this, with four turrets guarding each side of the entrance/exit bay.

Sighing, she pushed the craft into a lazy yaw, turning the corner and flying just above the turrets in front of the wall. She then turned the craft slowly outwards for a second, before picking up the speed and circling back in towards the lit up entry way. She was perfectly aligned now, and saw crash-wall at the end of the runway, along with an exit to the side. About half-way through was a second exit, with directional arrows pointing along it. Just before the arrows, she could make out the words “Emergency Only” in clear Terran standard.  She pushed the ship into it, and was somewhat surprised as it pushed through a transparent thin film that stretched throughout the bay’s exit.

Forcefield she thought to herself. This was relatively new tech to them, and it was only recently being employed on the fleet’s carriers. Sighing, she slowly cruised through the hangar’s runway, not sure what to expect next.
« Last Edit: May 17, 2005, 08:10:42 am by 1259 »
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(

 

Offline NGTM-1R

  • I reject your reality and substitute my own
  • 213
  • Syndral Active. 0410.
A quote about WWII PBY patrol bombers came to mind around the middle: "Have sighted enemy carrier: please inform next of kin." (Fun fact: at least one squadron actually did adopt NNK as a callsign: Notify Next of Kin.)

Good stuff, Singh.
« Last Edit: May 16, 2005, 05:57:02 pm by 2191 »
"Load sabot. Target Zaku, direct front!"

A Feddie Story

 

Offline neo_hermes

  • MmmmmmNode!
  • 28
  • What the hell are you lookin at?
author u should be.
Hell has no fury like an0n...
killing threads is...well, what i do best.

 

Offline Taristin

  • Snipes
  • 213
  • BlueScalie
    • Skelkwank Shipyards
I didn't read this thread. Just to let you know. It's too long and my time is absorbed by Anarchy online.

However, you stole the title from Halo 2's soundtrack. And let me say, it's one of the better tracks on the album.
Freelance Modeler | Amateur Artist

 

Offline redsniper

  • 211
  • Aim for the Top!
get back to work on the Bosch story.
"Think about nice things not unhappy things.
The future makes happy, if you make it yourself.
No war; think about happy things."   -WouterSmitssm

Hard Light Productions:
"...this conversation is pointlessly confrontational."

 

Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.
Quote
Originally posted by Raa
I didn't read this thread. Just to let you know. It's too long and my time is absorbed by Anarchy online.

However, you stole the title from Halo 2's soundtrack. And let me say, it's one of the better tracks on the album.


There is a reason I choose that track's name specifically, as you will soon no doubt find out :)
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(

 

Offline Turnsky

  • FOXFIRE Artisté
  • 211
  • huh?.. Who?.. hey you kids, git off me lawn!
mind if i touch up on that render, singh?
EDIT:

« Last Edit: May 17, 2005, 07:30:14 am by 86 »
   //Warning\\
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
do not torment the sleep deprived artist, he may be vicious when cornered,
in case of emergency, administer caffeine to the artist,
he will become docile after that,
and less likely to stab you in the eye with a mechanical pencil
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.
I dont mind at all - in fact, looks sweet :yes:

I'm putting up the tweaked version in the first post, if you dont mind :)
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(

 

Offline Turnsky

  • FOXFIRE Artisté
  • 211
  • huh?.. Who?.. hey you kids, git off me lawn!
Quote
Originally posted by Singh
I dont mind at all - in fact, looks sweet :yes:

I'm putting up the tweaked version in the first post, if you dont mind :)

sweet :D
   //Warning\\
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
do not torment the sleep deprived artist, he may be vicious when cornered,
in case of emergency, administer caffeine to the artist,
he will become docile after that,
and less likely to stab you in the eye with a mechanical pencil
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.



More will be coming along shortly....
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(

 

Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.
At the end of the runway, she noticed an exit to her left. It was about the same width as the runway, with a rather large arch covering it just short of the ceiling. Actually, it was more of two slanted pillars with a bar at the top. As she passed under it however, the bar began to emit several beams of light which surrounding the small fighter. They connected at various points along the hull, and from what she could see, did no damage whatsoever.

However, as the ship lurched and the controls once again went dead, the pilot realized that it was another tractor beam system, although it seemed more elaborate this time. The beams combined together to push the small craft forwards a certain distance. During this, new beams would start up from the ceiling, first pulling, then pushing the fighter forwards. It was all a smooth operation, and moved the fighter forwards beyond the arch quite quickly. Looking to either side, the pilot observed that this area was rather vast. To her left, at the very end of the hangar was what appeared to be a small repair and loading bay. Nestled in the bay was what seemed like one of the enemy’s Idun-class fighters. She couldn’t make out the details too well from this distance though, so she ignored it for the moment. The view of the right was completely different however.

She was much closer to the end here; and a scant dozen meters away was what appeared to be a large complex of sorts. At the very centre a large, square area was cordoned off by several barriers. On the side facing her and to her right, the square had two archs, similar in design to the one she had just passed through. Between these archs were cross-linked barriers that looked similar to gates. Towards the sides were what looked like power generators and machinery, and towards the corner was a control tower.

Judging from the entire configuration, this area seemed like a lift complex of sorts, and a massive one at that. The gate was wide and tall enough to take a small frigate if required and was more than massive enough for even the largest bomber. The pilot couldn’t help but feel a bit impressed at this, not to mention very lucky that she had the opportunity to see it alive.

The gateway facing her was raised, allowing entry into the lift, and the tractor beams slowly moved her craft underneath it. As they did, they cut off, allowing the ship to coast forwards on it’s own inertia, before it came to a stop at the centre of the lift. The power came back to a few of her consoles, but the engines were still dead.

Cursing, she switched on the rear camera, only to see the gate slowly slide downwards, shutting off any rear escape anyway.

A second later, she could hear a loud whining noise coming from the generators and motors around her. Several force fields popped up around the edges of the lift, just beyond the small railings that indicated its edges. Then the entire structure rumbled loudly before the lift began its descent, taking the fighter with it. As the complex went out of view, it only left the bright, translucent forcefield around her. Although she could make out some of the walls around here, there was little to note about it, or little that she coud do anyway…except for sitting back and waiting that is.
 
*****

Almost a full minute later, the lift began to slow a bit, and as the pilot looked up, the walls outside the force field disappeared upwards, revealing a massively open area all around her. She was unable to make out anything through the force field at the moment however. But this changed a few seconds later as the lift came to a complete stop and the force field disappeared.

It was then that she realized where she was: the fighter and bomber storage facilities of the ship. The area had to be at least a square kilometer in size; and was nearly as full as a city. Looking to her right, she saw another two lift lobbies nearby, as well as many different classes of fighters and bombers lining up to go up to the runway above. There were even more craft lined up against the walls of the facility; all undergoing servicing and repair, or being prepped with weapons and fuel for launch. The entire place was buzzing with activity…except for the small area around her ship.

Unlike the other lifts, nobody was gathered here guiding the ships to and fro. It seems they had been expecting her arrival, and cleared the area beforehand. Looking up ahead just confirmed it however. Gathered in front of the fighter, almost a hundred meters away were a large group of people, standing in two blocks of three rows, one on either side of her.  In front of them was a crane and other equipment suited to receiving most small craft and holding them for repairs and other maintenance requirements.  

Again, like before, tractor beams emitted from the ceiling moved her fighter forwards towards the crane. It took only a few seconds to get to it, and once it was still, the crane’s hook moved down and attached itself to her fighter, securing it. The canopy automatically opened, and a ladder moved up to her right. Rather surprised at this, she realized that there was little she could do but exit right now. Getting up, she moved out of the cramped cockpit, climbing down the ladder.

Once at the bottom, the pilot looked around at the gathered group of people.

They were clearly human or at least humanoid in size and structure, and each of them wore full-body armor, not unlike that of a space or environmental suit. It was a drab grey in color – somewhat of a contrast to the bright silver of the floor and surrounding area – and covered them from head to toe. She was also unable to make out their faces through the helmet visors. All of them were facing her, and were standing at ease, hands behind their back.

They then surprised her when the entire group moved in unison, coming to attention in one swift motion and one loud bang as their feet hit the floor. Then again, in unison they moved, bring their right hands to their heads, saluting her.

She was unsure what to do, such was the surprise. The pilot had honestly expected guns and other weapons pointed at her, possibly a life in slavery or a painfull death…but a military reception? That too, one worthy of an Admiral or General? No, nobody could have expected this to have happened.

Thinking for a second, she made a decision. Reaching up, she moved her hands upto her neck, where the helmet’s seals were present. Slowly manipulating each one, they gave way with a loud hiss, till finally it popped off. Grabbing it with both hands, she pulled it off slowly and gracefully.

The complexion of the face beneath wasn’t exactly one of pure beauty, but more of age and wisdom. Reflecting the normal, slightly wrinkled features of a forty year old woman, the pilot’s face still reflected and radiated a youthful aura. Her hair wasn’t too long, but it wasn’t short either as it unfolded itself from the helmet, easily covering the back of her head and nearly touching her back. The chin was triangular and sharp, with a slightly long nose and fair complexion to the skin. The most striking feature were the eyes however; they were a light shade of blue.

She stood there for a second, unsure what to do next. Then she noticed something walking through the space between both rows. Unlike those around it, this wasn’t human at all. It didn’t look like any creature she knew of either; or matched any of the other known sentient species. This was a much taller alien – it almost towered over those around it. Although it was bi-pedal, the faces and body structure did not indicate a mammalian nature at all. For one, the mouth were similar to that of some worms’, splitting up into four jaws that seemed to be able to feed food directly into a large orifice. But it did have proper ‘head’ as it were, with eyes and a bird-like nose. The entire physique and physical make up seemed to allow them great strength.

This particular creature was armored from head to toe as well, however it’s armor resembled that of a medieval knight’s than a modern-day one. It was a dark shade of blue, blending in almost completely with the alien’s grey skin. It walked with a slow gait and was slightly hunched over. In one hand was a strange rifle of sorts. Long and slender, it was dark red, with large purple bits all over it.

The creature stopped just in front of the group. It raised it’s free hand, waving at her to come forwards. A somewhat confused expression on her face, she stepped forwards.

When in rome… she thought to herself, remembering the old expression.

She walked forwards till she was about 5 feet in front of the creature. At this distance, she could see it’s features much more clearly. The helmet it wore edged downwards at the peak, looking very much like the beak of a bird.

Before it could speak however, she spoke first, shattering the silence that had been prevalent till that moment. Her voice was loud, and had a somewhat aggressive undercurrent to it. She had to remind herself; this was still enemy territory. No matter how respective they were of her, they still had the death of Billions on their hands.

“Who or what the hell are you? And what do you want with me?” She looked to either side as the groups to either side remained still; facing forwards into nothingness and still saluting.

The alien in front of her looked down for a second, a slightly grim expression on it’s face. When it looked up, it looked directly at her and replied. It’s voice was low and whispery, yet incredibly deep. The tone was one of sadness, sadness which was reflected in it’s black eyes.

“What am I? Some call me a Heretic……others, a hero….sometimes, even I do not know which one is really true.” He paused, glancing away for a second before looking back.

“As for who I am…you may call me the Arbiter. And to answer your third question, it is not what I want, but what he wants.”


Now this was confusing. Who could this alien possibly be referring to?

“And this is this…’him’ that you speak of?” She replied icily.

He stood to one side and waved his free arm to his right, towards a door in the nearby wall. He replied slowly and calmly, ignoring the flash of anger that she had just released.

“It is better that you find out for yourself, rather than have me tell you…if you will come with me everything will be made clear to you. However, that decision is yours to make. If you do not wish to come, you may return to your fighter and leave unharmed.”

After that, he just stood there, waiting for a reaction.

Many thoughts flashed across her mind; the chance and window for freedom was tempting, but so was the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity...besides, it would be useful to get some information to take back to command, now that she thought about it.

Nodding, she took a hesitant step forwards. The creature smiled slightly.

“Excellent then, let us proceed with haste; there is not much time left.”

She was somewhat puzzled at this, but then her mind was distracted as both groups to either side of her returned back to ease with one motion and another loud bang. They turned to face her and the arbiter as both moved down the group and towards the door, with the arbiter leading the way.

Once they reached it, the doors opened up, revealing a small elevator. Stepping inside, the Arbiter stood to the right. Somewhat hesitant, she stepped inside too. Looking about there were no actual physical features or buttons anywhere on the elevator. Only a few handholds here and there. The Arbiter grabbed one and held on. Looking back to her, he spoke.

“You may wish to hang on. This will be somewhat rough.”

Nodding, she simply grabbed onto the nearest one and held it tightly, unsure of what would come next.

The elevator reacted almost immediately thereafter; the doors closed and it surged forwards, the G-forces pushing her back and threatening to throw her to the floor.

After a few seconds she regained her balance however. Looking up, she saw that the Arbiter had not moved, seemingly unaffected by this. Cursing inwardly, she stood up and simply waited. The lift continued on in silence for nearly a minute after that. Judging from the acceleration and the G-forces, they had traveled quite a distance across the ship. The lift finally started to slow and the came to a stop. The doors opened, revealing a long corridor with several doors on either side. The Arbiter indicated for her to exit first. She simply walked out and looked around. The doors started a few scant feet from the exit of the lift. As the doors whooshed close behind her, The Arbiter stepped in front and indicated for her to follow him.

“This way; the meeting room is just ahead.” He said, walking forwards slowly.

She simply followed, studying the doors as they went by. They appeared to be personal quarters of some sorts; each had a plaque with a name on it. As she strolled by she read each plaque in the order that they came.

‘Senator Yuri’

‘General Yuri’

‘Loche, Brenton’

‘Commodore Montoya’

‘Si’vore’

‘Freeze, Victor’

‘Khan’

It was then that she noticed the meeting room up ahead. Its door was opened, and she could easily make the sounds of a loud conversation coming out of it.

“I’ve already re-checked the diagnosis. They say it’s going to take another two years to get it done. Truth to be told, I’d rather not be here for the next two years, at least not the way they are restricting my processes right now.”

“Well, compare it to the five seconds you’d last if they remove the restrictions, I’d say it’s a good choice.”

“You don’t know that.”

“If you don’t like it, there is that other option…..”

“And risk provoking the Chaos? Sorry, dealing with them the last time around still leaves my sanity in question.”

“Well, then, I guess there’s little we can do but wait.”

“Not exactly. Unless you forget the other option =I suggeste-“

“Which is again, too risky. The chances of coming out alive or intact from that is a million to one.”

“Which is still better compared to the chances of returning sane after being in the Chaos for two years, even with their protection.”

“Well then, stop complaining.”

“I am NOT complaining, it’s merely stating the facts as it were.”

“Still sounds like complaining.”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn’t!

“Yes it is.”

The Arbiter paused at the doorway, glancing in. He then indicated for her to go in. Judging from his expression, it looked like this seemed to happen everyday, as he wasn’t surprised or worried at all. She entered it, somewhat curious to who was doing the talking. Upon entering though, the sight was hardly what she had expected. The room was rather large, with a conference table at the very centre. To either side were seats, 6 in total. There was one more chair at the ‘head’ of the table, but it was turned away to face the window and the view of space just behind the table. Looking carefully though, she could see someone was seated there, hands on either arm rest. But she could make out little else about the person.

Gathered elsewhere around the table were three people…or rather, two humans at a hologram. The Hologram was one of a woman; almost totally blue in color and dressed in a fashion not unlike those seen in the roman era; she was looking directly at the man to the right of the table. The man was dressed in a similar style of body armor as those seen in the hangar bay, but this was olive-green in color. This must have been the one who was arguing with the AI just now.

To the left of the table, another person sat down, watching the two. He was dressed in a pilot’s suit, not unlike her own, except that it was a bright red in color. It had a name tag on the side with the rank and name spelt out in dark black: “Lt. Ash”

The hologram turned to see her enter, with the Arbiter in close pursuit. She addressed the Arbiter first.

“Oh, you’re back. I see we have a new resident, from the looks of it.”

She turned to the pilot, looking her up and down.

“You must be Victoria. My name is Cortona; and this, here” She nodded towards the armored person she was talking to “- is the Master Chief.”

The master chief looked at her as well, but didn’t move. From behind her, the Arbiter spoke.

Victoria was somewhat surprised. How did they know her name? So far, none of them had addressed her directly. But she should have expected it, actually. After all, they had somehow singled her out of how many millions of pilots and individuals out there…at the very least, they should have known her name.

She replied cautiously, rather wary of what was going on. She didn’t like this, not one bit.

“I see…”


Cortona frowned; obviously this wasn’t what she had expected.

Then the person at the head of the table spoke out. His voice was raspy, but it could be heard all over the room, and held within it an air of authority.

“Arbiter, thank you for your assistance. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you and the others to leave though. Our meeting needs to be in private; as much as such a thing is possible on this ship.”

Cortona simply nodded and looked back to the Master Chief. “Care to give a ride back?”

The master chief didn’t respond verbally, and instead placed his hand next to the emitter on the table. Cortona’s image flickered once and then disappeared. Looking back, Victoria noticed that the Arbiter had left already. She moved aside to give space to the Master Chief and Lt. Ash, allowing them to leave. Once they had gone however, the door closed, leaving her alone with the man. Looking at the chair, she was about to ask something when he spoke first.

“I’ll have to apologize for this means of meeting, but it was completely necessary. Please, have a seat.”

“I’d rather stand, thank you.” She replied in an icy tone. This was starting to get annoying – what the hell was going on.

“A predictable answer; similar to what everyone said the first time around. Trust me, standing will do no benefit to you, and admittedly, you know that as well.”

She didn’t reply, and instead continued to stand. After about a second, the man sighed.

“Stubborn, just like the others that came before you. Well, I had to expect it.”

“Just who are you?” She asked, slowly.

In response, the man slowly turned the chair around, revealing himself. Victoria nearly gasped in shock at the sight in front of her. Seated in the chair was a man – or rather halfof a man.. Dressed in a full, black dress uniform. But judging from his face and neck, she realized that the condition – whatever it was – must have extended itself below the uniform as well. The left part of the man’s face was normal. With short, Waverly hair that was covered with a captain’s hat, it was average, with a few slight wrinkles here and there. But the left side was where the normality ended. The right side of the face was completely metallic; with exception of the eye, the nose and the mouth itself. It was frozen in an expression of pure despair. It didn’t seem possible how one could be still alive after such a…she wasn’t sure what to call it. The most striking feature however, was his eyes. They were dark and deep, and had the look of a very wise person in them. This was clearly a leader; and a wise one at that, it was no doubt.

The man simply stared at her, unfazed and replied deadpan.

“Perhaps a former introduction is due. In those worlds where they recognize me; would know that my rank is that of an Admiral’s….the ex-leader of one of the most brutal uprisings in all of known space.”

“You still didn’t answer the question. Who are you and what is your name? ” She replied, somewhat annoyed at this.

“My name?” He paused for a second, taking a breath and looking down for a second before looking back up. He continued, a sad expression in his face.

“My name……..is Aken Bosch, now the Commander of the Exodus Fleet.”


The End[/i]
« Last Edit: May 24, 2005, 03:55:40 pm by 1259 »
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(

 

Offline pyro-manic

  • Flambé
  • 210
Ooooh....



More!
Any fool can pull a trigger...

 

Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.
Damnit! I forgot to add one very important and critical line to the story.


There, edited in now.
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(

 

Offline pyro-manic

  • Flambé
  • 210
My previous comment still stands.. :p
Any fool can pull a trigger...

 

Offline Singh

  • Hasn't Accomplished Anything Special Or Notable
  • 211
  • Degrees of guilt.
sorry. no more.....its just SWARM, thats all.
"Blessed be the FREDder that knows his sexps."
"Cursed be the FREDder that trusts FRED2_Open."
Dreamed of much, accomplished little. :(