Sudden burst of writing activity!!!11!!1
System: Adrel
Region: Essence
Exact Location: Between Adrel I and II
In the boundness of space, between first and second planets of the system was a presence that hung, lonely in the night. To any pilot, it could easily be recognizable as the somewhat ugly visage of a Minmitar Scythe class cruiser, and indeed, it was exactly that in every sense. It's rear engine structure was attached to a much lower frontal weapons platform by a narrow structure that was riddled with weapons. The front control tower itself was covered with several masts and sails, each of which was much akin to the Triangular Marconi sail design used on ancient ships. Each one seemed somewhat out of place on a space vessel, but overall it gave the front structure a sense of style in it's own right. A prow stuck out the front, extending from the main body itself and ending with several thin antennae that jutted out from the end. The Scythe had long been the butt of many a pilot's jokes, but not as much as it's other cousins. It was no gracefull rifter, but once upon a time, it had performed it's role well.
The most notable feature of this scythe, however, were the large gaping holes that stuck itself right in the middle of the top sail, as well as the main body itself. A field of debris kept the ship company in the lonely night, orbiting it and casting shadows upon the hull facing the sun. One of the rings even orbited through the wreck itself, it's course taking it through the engine complex in a perfectly circular fashion. The hole there had been burned by a large beam cannon that had cut a massive arc straight through the ship itself.
This was a wreck, a memory of a much more volatile past that humanity had gone through. One that had ended. But the end was almost never the end, as proven by the many similar wrecks that were spread throughout the galaxy. They had remained on as entities of that long-forgotten war. In a sense, although for the living, the war had ended, for these memories, these echoes, the war was the only thing they knew, and it never ended.
Each wreck held the sacrifice, the joys and fears of the pilots and crews that had led them into battle, and then perished. Each wreck was the symbol in it's own right, preserving within its metallic frames the memory of those who had lived and died for their cause, or for themselves.
But it is said that all things must come to an end, and it did, as proven by the living. Entropy has a course that could not be denied; not even by the Gods themselves. It was the very medium in which everything existed; and to give it up meant giving up that existance itself. Hence, even for the dead, the end would come, and the memories would eventually fade away, much like everything else.
Of course, then, one must realize. It is the way that end comes about, that now makes up our story, and this lonely wreck would only be the precursor.
The sun's light began to shine in full as the wreck came out of the sun's shadow. It was red, glaring off the hull in almost full intensity, lighting up the interior of the holes and the dark corridors that lay within. But then the color began to change, from a fiery red, it slowly started to shift. It became brighter, shifting to the blue end of the spectrum, with speckles of white here and there. Looking outside the ship, the one could easily see the source.
Next to the ship, blocking the sun almost completely, a massive vortex had formed which seemed to suck in everything around it. Yet, at the same time, it seemed to spill out a blue-white substance that was contained in the space beyond. A rip through space, it began to grow slowly. It grew in size, nearly doubling it's width within a second to around a kilometer. With the next second, it grew another kilometer, and then finally it stabilized at a five kilometer width several seconds later.
A few seconds after it did, an object began to appear within the vortex's horizon
The object in question was a massive construct, or more precisely, a ship. 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. If one had the memory, the ship would have reminded them of a WWI era battleship – but such things didn't exist in this place any longer. Terran design had mostly abandoned such notions with it's advance into space, and such weaponry could not be wielded by any of Eve's factions – even the Joves.
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.
The entire hull was lined with deadly anti-fighter missile and machine gun turrets. Any one could easily take out any fighter, but yet arranged neatly in rows were several hundred of them, collectively capable of destroying most ships rather quickly.
The new ship dwarfed the Scythe, casting it into shadow once more. The warship came to a stop directly above it, the bridge structure facing it, but after that, it simply did nothing for nearly a full minute.
A light began to glow from the wingtip structure. It grew in size till it was several meters across, before it let forth a small beam. The beam hit the Scythe in one of the holes in it's hulls, bouncing off the side and into the corridors inside the ship. The beam appeared to continue bouncing around inside the ship, as the light could be seen passing through several windows, criss-crossing it's way through corridors. This continued to happen till light began to pour out from every open corner of the Scythe.
Then, suddenly, it all stopped. The beam shut off, and then so did the light. The warship began to quickly accelerate, and another vortex appeared directly ahead of it. The warship then quickly disappeared into the vortex as it closed up behind it.
The Sun once again shone on the Scythe as the shadow upon it was no more. But there was a strange oddness...a strange aura as it were. If a human being were in the presence of the Scythe, they would begin to feel a low humming at the back of their head. The humming slowly increased in intensity. The hulk itself began to glow and unearthly colour of red for a second before fading out again. Along the hull, if one were to look through the windows, they'd see a blackness begin to creep it's way through the corridors of the ship.
It slowly crept through the ship, filling up one void and then leaking out into space. It crawled along the outer hull through the large holes, covering the hull whereever they did touch, leaving only blackness. The color itself was, oddly, blacker than the space that surrounded it, but yet it shone with a metallic reflection.
But then it kept on growing, and growing, till finally it had covered the entire ship itself. Then the blackness seemed to shift and turn and then shift some more. It twitched and boiled, as it a living thing had enveloped the ship, consuming it from both inside and out.
And then, at the height of the motion, at the height of the activity, it suddenl withdrew. The blackness quickly seeped back through the hole, back through the voids, through the corridors and away from visible sight through the windows. As it withdrew, the hull it left behind began to give off a slight reddish glow.
Other than that, however, the ship remained unchanged, with exception that the Debris fields around it had disappeared.
For a moment, it hung there, it's silhouette hanging in front of the sun. The glow faded away, and the entire scene went back to what it was, sans debris field.
Then, slowly, meticulously the ship's rear engine complex began to glow.
It was an impossibility; for their was no fuel to burn; at least, no physical fuel in the engines. Yet, somehow, the exhaust nozzles began to glow, and thruster plumes grew outwards, pushing the ship forwards. Then the nozzles (at least, the intact ones) began to turn, turning the ship to the right. The movements were slow, gracefull as the ship began to arc around.
Once it had turned around ninety degrees or so, the engines cut out, stopping the ship. It hung there for several seconds, as if unsure what to do next. And then, finally, it began to accelerate forwards again. However, this time instead of a gracefull acceleration, it surged forwards, escaping the limits of real space, and entering the warp suited to most ships of it's Era.
The ship had been left for forgotten, it's memories unheard of by any of today's generation, the lives it had held cast into the ocean of time. But Entropy had finally reached them, promising release. The call had come out, and now it could finally answer it. The larger vessel had tried to stop it from answering the call, and had failed at it. Nothing would deny entropy – not even them, and especially not here and now. For it wanted nothing but to be shown the end, the promised end to it all. Finally, it could embark on an exodus preceded by millions of others before it; for the call had finally come out. The call had finally come out for the Exodus of the Forgotten, and nothing would stop it.
