Friday, 19 November 2021

Everlasting - end

 

Caroline watched the last ship burning with a sense of relief washing over her. They had done it, freedom beckoned, and they could finally go home.

Home.

She tried to remember the last place she had called home that had not been a birth on a warship. Maybe it was her parent’s house back on Shire but she had not been there in years. Her thoughts turned to her mother and the sister she hadn’t seen in fifteen years of the garden, the trees blowing in the wind that was like a sigh across the water meadows.
   She wanted to go home now and she wanted to take Jonathan with her. She felt the beginnings of a smile touch the edge of her lips and despite her professionalism ordering it to stop she let it spread quickly.

“Caroline, I’m sorry.” The familiar voice of The Watcher returned now but it was lacking its usual sting of smug arrogance and was leaden instead with a thick sadness. “I tried to warn you, tried to protect you but… I have failed and your actions and choices meant this future was inevitable.”

There was a pause before his voice turned to spiteful bitterness “You should have come with men. You were supposed to chose me not him.”
“What do you mean? What was inevitable?”
Her plea was met with stony silence. Suddenly her heart was racing as she started trying to look for something, anything she might have overlooked or missed.

“Jonathan, I need a fall sensor sweep of the area. Something feels wrong.”

“Yes Captain.” He ran over to the sensor station and began following her orders, his brow furrowed in thought and she could see him using his fighter pilot training to look for anomalies beyond the sensor’s scopes.

“Helm, bring us to point seven five and increase speed.” She did not know what The Watcher had meant but she did not want to find out. She had to get her crew to safety, they ahd been through too much to lose it all now.
“Anything on sensors?”
“No Captain.” Jonathan was staring intently at the screen desperately searching for something, anything when suddenly his eyes fixed on something and widened. “Captain, enemy ship is powering up engines, they’re moving for an intercept course.”

“Gunnery control, target that ship.”
“Yes Captain!”

Caroline whirled around again to watch the approaching derelict, great holes were already rent in the side of the hull and burning atmosphere spilled from unseen ruptures. The impact of the firepower was doing nothing to slow her approach. It looked like the N’kell had forgone shields and were piling all of their power into the engines to try and ram the Indomitable.

“Helm, hard to port. That should bring us clear.”

“Aye Captain.”

It was too late though, and her planned timely manoeuvre failed to escape the sudden burst of speed from the hulk that slammed into the hull of Indomitable with a sickening crash and tearing noise.

“Shields collapsing!” Ethan reported clinging to his consul “hull breaches on all decks!”

“Helm hard over! Get us off this thing.”

She turned to look at Jonathan, his eyes filled with concern and fear but his features set in a steely resistance.  She felt a smile touch her lips and she caught his eye before mouthing “It will be ok.”
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him smile slightly and she felt herself relax from stress and focus on what needed to be done.
“Ethan, what state are ---”

She never finished the sentence as a further impact caused part of the ceiling to collapse and a great medal support girder fell across her pelvis and she felt the bones shattered like a dinner plate against the wall. The pain that lanced through her was indescribable and she heard herself scream. Within seconds Jonathan was at her side attempting to lift the metal from her, his face flushed scarlet with the effort and his muscles straining.
   She heard Ethan take over command issuing orders and assessing damage. She wanted to bite out at Jonathan to do his duty as First Officer, save the ship and look after the crew but the pain was so intense she could not think clearly and all she managed was a sharp “Leave it!” Her left hand lanced out and grabbed his wrist and squeezed hard as she could.
Lieutenant Carroll rushed up carrying the field medic box and Caroline felt a slight pin prick in her shoulder followed by a wash of cold through her body that doused the fires f pain and she began to relax again.
“Jonathon, you need to get everyone off, get them to safety.” He voice was dry and raspy but she squeezed his hand tighter. “Promise me.”

He kept a steady stare at her but did not reply.

“Captain” Ethan knelt beside her, his features similarly softened as he addressed them both. “The breaches can no longer be contained and reports from the engines are not good. We could be looking at a reactor breach. Can I give the order?”

Without hesitation Caroline nodded and Ethan charged off shouting fresh orders at the bridge crew who sprang into an energised response passing instructions. She was proud of them, she had trained them well for situations like this.
“Can we move her?” Jonathan looked over to Carroll who had just finished a medical scan  and was in the midst of putting the scanner back in the box. Her expression was grim and she almost unnoticibly shook her head but Caroline had seen it and it confirmed her thoughts and fears. She sighed and even through the pain killers her chest burst into flames again. She struggled to look at the medic and with an immense effort managed to croak, “I’m dying aren’t I?”
“Captain, I –“

Caroline closed her eyes and shook her head signalling Carroll didn’t need to speak and instead turned to Jonathan. She felt her heart swell fade into the pain at the thought of losing him which gripped her, she could never imagine not seeing him again, growing old with him, taking him home to Shire, sitting under the autumnal trees or the light in those blue eyes that appeared every time he saw her. She had had such great plans for the future, of spending time with this man and now they were all laying shattered in her mind with only one fate ahead for them.

“Freya” her voice was almost a a whisper “you have to go. Leave me here.”

“You know I can’t.” he squeezed her hand tighter and she could see tears welling up in his eyes whilst his voice fought back the grief.

“You will, you have to get the crew to safety. They look to you Captain.”

The ship shook again and more debris fell from the ceiling landing around the emptying crew pits. Jonathan turned to Ethan and called over the din and confusion. “Abandon ship, get them to the Swiftsure!”

“Yes Commander.”

“Your turn. You must leave me.” She tried to put as much force into her voice as she could but he was unmoved.

“Would you leave me if our positions were swapped?”

“To do my duty? To save the crew? Because you begged me to? Yes… What happened to that cocksure pilot who was always diving into trouble? I haven’t got long left. I don’t want our last conversation to be an argument.”

He half laughed “Like our first?”

Through the pain and growing darkness she laughed remembering the docking bay, Captain Wright insisting that they would work well together. She had been right though.

“I love you.” He whispered and she could see the pain and emotional torment that ravaged him.

“You know I love you too which is why I can’t let you die here with me. GO now before it is too late.”

He lent over and she felt his lisps on her cheeks, the soft prickle of his stubble and warm moisture of his tears. She bit back her own and squeezed his hand.

“Go… leave me. Be the best man you can be…”

She watched him stand noticeably reluctantly letting go of her hand and take a slow step backwards. She felt another sharp pain in her arm as Carroll gave her another dose of painkillers.

“How long?” she whispered to the medic.

“Hard to say Captain but not long.”

“Get him out of here, you’ve done all you can.”

Carroll nodded and grabbed Jonathan’s arm and despite her smaller stature gave him a solid push towards the door where Ethan was stood anxiously.

Her heart breaking she turned to look at the starfield, the glare of the system’s sun catching the edges of her vision as great golden arms stretched out in flares of erupting gas. She took a deep painful breath and exhaled in a long sigh.

Her mind was clear of all the usual chatter and life stresses, reports that needed filing, rotas, petty politics and all the rest of the nonsense. There was only her and her most important thoughts. She closed her eyes and she was under the autumnal leaves falling from the tall oak trees, the soft smell of foliage and moss underfoot as the sunset’s last warmth touching her cheek.

“Caroline?”
A familiar voice cut through the scene’s serenity and there he was. Jonathan was wearing dress uniform, his boots a mirror shine, his trousers pressed into fine creases and his three awards shined on his breast.

   Caroline looked into his eyes and saw the warmth and love, the soft smile that touched his lips, the one he reserved only for her. She stepped towards him and fell into his arms pressing her head against his chest and squeezing him tight feeling his arms wrap around her around her and hold her as tightly.

She opened her eyes and the woodlands scene had dissolved into a candle lit ballroom, he took her hand and rested his other hand on her back as they started to slow dance to the gentle piano music in the background.

“I will always love you.” He said.

She felt her heart swell with a happiness she could now fully embrace and she allowed herself to grin int a way she had not in almost two decades and her walls disintergrated and she rested her head on his shoulder again.

“I will never leave you.” She whispered “I will always be at your sides and in your heart.”

She closed her eyes and listened to the music slowly die away and all faded to black.

Wednesday, 3 November 2021

NaNoWriMo Part 1

 Captain Baumann stood in front of her, one hand up in salute, his field-grey uniform shirt was creased and partially untucked and marred with sweat stains, his forage cap off centre and he clearly hadn’t shaved in a few days. He did not look like the clean cut ambitious officer who had been at the briefing a month ago. Not that he would have seen her in the shadows of the room, and why would he notice a woman when the second most powerful man in Barhoemia was there giving him his orders unless she was serving him a drink? Internally she rolled her eyes again at the attitude these Barhoemians had towards women, she’d seen it time and again and she tired of it, tired of proving them wrong and embarrassing them. They did pay well for her services though.

The jungle heat was oppressive and humid and she could hear the bird calls and animals even over the whine of the helicopter’s engine as it powered down. Marshal of the Empire Georg Petersen, Count of Spitzen, high protector of the Imperial order of the Dragon, Commander of the Imperial Legion and a host of other somewhat meaningless titles was grinning next to her, his leather gloved hand outstretched to the younger Captain though as she studied him from her peripheral vision she thought he would be regretting wearing full powder blue dress uniform within five minutes and she could see the beads of sweat forming like pearls on his forehead and his well-groomed moustache was already beginning to whillt. This would be a brief visit.

“Ah, Baumann. Good to see you again. How is the dig going? Have you found the Gate stone yet?”

The other man lowered his hand and took Petersen’s proffered hand.

“Sir, we’ve been working round the clock and found the temple three days ago.”

“Excellent! I told you that he’d find it and your concerns were unwarranted.” He turned with a bombastic laugh and grinned at her briefly. Her expression never shifted, frozen in stone but she managed a hushed but venomous “Indeed”

“So, what is the latest update?”

“We have broken through the main doors, through several ante chambers and this morning we used the dynamite to blast into one of the inner chambers. Last night we discovered an under chamber that led into a secret area. Doctor Kauffman is certain this is where the artefact will be.” The man’s confidence was returning after originally being shaken by the arrival of his superior. “We expect a return in the next few hours.”

Fools, she thought, amateur fools. It was never that easy, even with the Barhoemian military’s approach to archaeology.

“Tell me Captain, have your men seen any red painted statues?”

Baumann seemed to notice her for the first time and he looked flustered by her interjection. He looked at Petersen who nodded his approval to answer her.

“Yes, in the outer chambers. Kauffman believes they mean nothing, a cultural fashion from four hundred years ago.”

“And the panels with blue water marks?”

“Yes, last night. Just some ancient hieroglyphs, nothing for us to be concerned about.”

“Finally, in this final chamber were there any statues?”

“Lieutenant Thiel reported several Harpies standing in there. Why?”

“What does all this nonsense mean?” Petersen’s good mood was starting to fray. She didn’t expect the military to have done any serious research, they would use  dynamite and sledgehammers where ever possible and this Kauffman had been at the Capitol’s Antiquities Museum for thirty years and hadn’t done a day’s field work since university. He knew no more of the inside of Sintar tomb than of the dark side of the moon and even if he did, Baumann would have just ignored him.

“I assure you, Sir, Thiel is one of my best officers he will appropriate your prize.”

“How long?” She snapped.

“Excuse me?” Baumann bit back acidicly.

“How long have they been in the chamber?”

“Two hours. They started work at nine this morning”

She took her rifle off her shoulder and checked the sights and barrel out of habit before reaching into her belt pouches and withdrew a strip of bullets.

“I’m going in. Don’t send anyone else, I should return within the hour.”

Petersen understood after all this is what he paid her for. In the three years she had been working for him she had only failed him once and the scar on her left forearm was the penalty, a constant reminder that although the rewards were vast the punishments for failure were severe. He could have ordered her death just as easily, she had seen it happen for less but Petersen must have seen her usefulness, her skill set and after that incident her abandonment of a moral compass. She had been allowed to live that time but next time… Baumann was protesting still “But my men?”

She looked up, her cold grey eyes venomous and silencing him mid-sentence.

“Captain, your men are already dead.”

Friday, 28 May 2021

Working title - trying to think of something cool...

 

Thirteen years I’ve been stationed out here. Thirteen years of the same monotony with no hope of getting off this rock and back to a normal existence or to a world with opportunities and life.

My name is Lieutenant Commander Michael Johnson, more often than not referred to as John by my colleagues and superiors who get confused by my surname and after all of this time I’ve lost the will to keep correcting them after all of this time. I’m in charge of the day shift security detachment at the SE1 colony out in the Bulgarum sector and I’ve been doing this for the last three years.

I arrived out here when the colony still had a name, New Limberg, as an enthusiastic young sub-lieutenant with dreams of an accelerated promotion then transfer back to the fleet. The planet was a blooming agricultural world with around five hundred thousand farmers, a garrison of twenty thousand or so army and navy personnel under the command of a military governor. It all started fantastically but then around nine years ago the “blight” set in and killed the crops and livestock. It started slowly on the outlying farms but within six months it had taken most of them, even killed some of the colonists’s children. It was a dark time to be here, saw so many folks just pack up and leave, can’t say I blame them and I would have done the same if I could.

For those of us at the garrison times became wane as well with the death of the colony. Slowly detachments were reassigned then the regiment until there was a skeleton force of technicians and two platoons of soldiers mostly coming up for retirement age or fresh out of the academy for some basic training, either way they are never here for very long. My superiors left before the ink on their transfer slips had dried and I found myself promoted quickly as my requests to leave were quietly filed away and now I’m stuck here on this planet which no longer has a name beyond the colloquial moniker of “Lambdeath” after the blight’s devastation.  

Every day starts much the same rising at 0500, shower, shave, breakfast and report to duty at 0700 in the Naval security office where I receive the handover from the night officer which is usually devoid of anything beyond things that he could report himself but is too lazy to. I then spend the next hour or so checking the security systems are still working, compiling the morning reports and then supervising the duty operators all of whom have longer experience than me and trained me when I first arrived. Ultimately my day consists of me watching people watch people farming their sheep.

That was until this morning…

As I said, I wake up at 0500 and take a hot shower and shave before having the same bland naval issue breakfast rations in the mess before taking my usual soul crushing walk down to the “bunker”. When I arrived McIntyre was in his usual form. I liked Clive, I’d always got on with him but over the last year he’d taken a dislike to something I’d said or done and now spent a lot of time just being abrasive to me and I had no idea what the cause was. He’d obviously got himself worked up over the last twelve hours and was red in the face with droplets of sweat forming on his brow as he waved a report under my nose.

“What is this?!” he shouted. “How can you give this order?!”

I tried to shift my usual expression of disinterest to something akin to concern. “Which order?”

“This one about the intercom system procedure….” There followed five to ten minutes of constant shouting and waving of papers whilst I calmly repeated that the order had come from Major Dexter, had nothing to do with me and that I was the same rank as him and couldn’t order him in the first place but I might as well have been talking to the wall. In the end I just closed my mouth and let him continue his rant until he ran out of steam and stormed out.

With a heavy sigh I collapsed into my office chair and began sifting through the reports and issues from the night duty – most of which they could have reported or dealt with but with yet another sigh I began filing and answering each individual in turn. Just another day.

A flashing red light caught my eye coming from the front of the Control room. The deep space proximity alarm had gone into alarm.

“Sergeant, what’s that?” Despite my bored lethargy that had infected most of my working shifts suddenly I found my adrenaline spiking and long dusty training coming out.

“Probably another comet” Sergeant Zero was leaning back in his chair staring blankly at the monitors without seeing. To be fair he was probably right as we had comet warnings every other week but usually we’d have had a heads up from the Stella cartography department.

“Do you want to look into it?” I urged firmly. “Now please”

As the Sergeant sat up and started scanning through the system and analysing the alarms I started doing the same thing but faster. Something had tripped the outer system sensors at speeds too fast for a comet. I tried to bring up the camera feeds but they were interrupted by static moments before whatever it was passed through it.

Something was not right here...

I reached for the comm and dialled the only extension I thought would be of use. Major Dexter was useless most of the time anyway, my superior Commander Vervain was off duty so I contacted the deputy Garrison commander Captain Celine Vesper.

“Good morning Garrison command” the familiar voice filled my ear and I fought back a smile as I pictured my friend at her desk knowing full well she was about to say; “what have you done now?”

“Morning Sir, we’ve got an issue that I thought I should raise. Something has just tripped the outer system proximity alarm.”

“Its probably a comet” she began “though we had better check it out. Anything on the cameras?”

“That’s the thing, they went dead just before the alarm went off.” Whilst we were talking I was rocketing through the other systems to see if I could find anything else on the inner system security systems or cameras but one by one they were dropping off. “The rest of the system seems to be going down quite quickly to”

“Strange” she sounded like she was disappearing into thought. “Ok, I’ll get one of the fighter patrols to go and take a look. Hopefully its nothing.” She paused again. “Mike, bring us to amber action stations just to be on the safe side. We could always do with another drill, just leave Dexter to me.”

“Thanks Celine.”

Every call to her left me reminiscing about how long we had worked together, how many issues we had dealt with together. We had started at the colony at the same time both fresh out of the academy with aspirations and ambition. We’d worked together and socialised together over the years and been close, not as close as maybe I would have liked a long time ago but it is what it is. I watched her strive and achieve her position through hard work and sheer strength of will against the immovable object that is the superior officers here at SE1. Whereas I sank into bored lethargy and surrendered to the system that ground me down she had clung on and fought it as best she could and I admired that strength.

“Sir” Zero waved at me to pull me out of my daydream. “I’ve spotted something on the inner most sensors before they went offline. The image is blurry but on the IR it looks like a vessel of some sort.” He brought up the images for me to look at and I could immediately see what he meant.

“Right.” I walked over to the alarm panel and hit the Amber action stations alarm which began playing the repetitive message that should bring the armed forces to alert and warn the colonist to stay in their homes. I hurried back to my desk and dialled Dexter’s number to report the intruder and that’s when the first explosion erupted.

I’m not certain where the rocket struck or even what size it was. I only knew that the force of the blast caused the bunker ceiling to collapse and I was thrown across the room and against the wall. I managed to pull myself up briefly before my legs gave way and I fell back amongst the rubble. My ears were ringing and my vision blurred from the white flash of the explosion, my legs and chest ached from the force of the impact and I was struggling to breathe. In the distance I could hear shouting but I couldn’t tell you who it was or what they were saying all I could think of was the pain and getting my breathing under control.

Suddenly a face filled my vision and a pair of gloved hands gripped my uniform hard pulling me up by my chest. I recognised the eyes but my brain still felt like wet bread and able to comprehend anything. He shouted at me and I barely heard the voice over the ringing and I blinked vacantly at him until I felt a gloved hand slap me across the cheek.

“I said, are you alright sir?”

I shook my head to try and clear my brain and I felt that spike of consciousness return. “yes, I’m fine” I mumbled slowly pulling myself to my feet. I realised it was Corporal Bettesworth the Control guard. “thank you Corp.” He steadied me and ran down the room to check on Zero but it was clear even with my impaired vision that he was dead. I heard other explosions erupting around the facility but I had no idea where or what was going on. Another pair of hands grabbed me and pulled me out of the door and into the corridor which was usually lit with harsh bright white halogen but now glowed soft green with the emergency lights. The trooper pulled me along through the security doors deeper underground to a cavernous storage silo that had been set up as an emergency triage. All around me lay the wounded and the dying and the smell of blood and death filled my nose.

 I kept muttering that I was fine but the trooper ignored me roughly putting me down onto a canvas fold up bed and handing over to an orderly before dashing out. I continued to remonstrate that there was nothing wrong with me but the harassed orderly didn’t take any more notice than the trooper had and was doing something to my arm. I couldn’t see what he was doing but I could feel something abnormal and a quick stabbing pain that came and went fairly quickly.  I laid where I was for listening to the screams and moans grow louder as my hearing returned slowly. After what seemed like an eternity a nurse stooped over me and began checking my vitals.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She shushed me.
“I need to know”
“Not now Commander, rest.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“You’ve got a six inch gash in your left arm that barely missed the main artery, between Trooper Flood and Orderly Baxter they stemmed the bleeding and resealed the wound. You need to rest.”
I looked at her in confusion. Surely I would have felt such an injury? Surely there would have been blood… I glanced down at my uniform and saw the dark stains all over my jacket and the ripped and torn sleeve, the blue stitches and angry purple wound. I just couldn’t process it, why had I not felt it.

“You’re in shock but you’ll be ok. We’ve given you an injection of suppressant and we’ll get the knitting gel up to you as soon as we’ve done the priority cases.”

I mumbled my thanks and laid back on the canvas bed and closed my eyes. Beyond the repetitive question of “what the hell is going on?” the only thing I could think of was Celine, where she was and was she alright? It seemed strange that of all the things that I could or should have been thinking all I could think of was her.

 

I must have fallen asleep for a while whether it was due to the shock or maybe I had a concussion from the impact, I don’t know, but when I came to there was another medic administering a smelly purple gel to my wound and removing the stitches.
“Sorry if this stings sir.” He muttered rather unconvincingly “but Command has ordered us to treat the walking wounded quickly and get them topside for action. We don’t have enough gel to go around so I can only give you a cursory amount to stop it bursting open again. This will be tender for some time so be careful.”
“Thank you.”
He didn’t seem to register my words and just kept talking. “Give it ten minutes then head back up that hall way and you’ll find Major Dexter’s briefing room where you’ll be given your assignment.”

I looked across the silo to where he was pointing and saw a well lit corridor


I lay on the canvas bed for what seemed an eternity but when I looked at my watch it was only about ten minutes before an orderly came up and looked me over with a rougher bedside manager than the trooper who carried me down.
“You’re fine.” He barked “Why are you here?”
I looked at him blankly for a second as I reworded my original thoughts. “I was brought.”
“Well you can go. Head up to Level 7.”
“Level 7 is a large place” I muttered absently
“Just go, make space for those who need to be here.”
I knew there was no point arguing with this man so I just stood up as best I could, ignoring the aches and pains that wracked my body from the impact, mainly around my rib cage and left arm but at least I was moving. I looked around the room at some of the others who looked like they would be lucky if they ever moved again.
I kept asking myself “what is going on here?” but couldn’t get past that we were under attack some how. I watched soldiers streaming past and the busy medical orderlies and knew there would be no answers there the only thing I could do was head up to level 7 and see if I could get answers there.
Suddenly a thought struck me and I was filled with nervous panic. Where was Celine? She


Sunday, 12 August 2018

Terrorform Part 1


The office door opened so soundlessly that Lieutenant Jane Briarwood didn’t even look up from the pile of reports that had overrun her desk, each more mundane than the last. This is not what she had signed up for or what her teenage self-had looked up at the stars and dreamed of.

   She remembered that lonely teenage girl on the agricultural world of Rowlatt VII with fondness. The long walks in the rolling green countryside, laying under the broad Medri Oak atop of the Boxleigh hill embedded in a book about alien life and structures on distant planets. She had made up her mind at fourteen that she was going to escape the drudgery of rural life and see the stars.

   To her youthful mind it had all seemed so simple and getting in the Academy at Belgarum had been as most applicants wanted to be Marines, fighter pilots or Ship’s officers not xeno-archaeologists. She had arrived on system in the midst of the worst storm in a century and it had all she could do to get from the shuttle to the Administration building with out being washed away. The great grey brick building loomed out of the darkness as an oppressive big black shadow illuminated by cracks of lightening that highlighted the outline making it seem even more oppressive like a haunted house from one of the Horror movies her brother had made her watch. As she saw joined the stream of young adults running towards the building clutching her books and pack of uniform she could hear her brother’s words in her head;
“What are you doing? Run away from the creepy house!”

   After such an inauspicious start and a few lonely nights in her room with nothing but her books for company things began to get more interesting. Despite the Academy being a Military facility the discipline for mission specialists was a lot lighter than for the regular recruits despite the first semester of Basic training including fire arms, swamp missions, morning cross country runs and shouting, shouting and more shouting from a spiteful little man with the smallest gold braid any NCO had ever worn but somehow conferred upon him some sort of deity style superiority over the mere mortal recruits. She was glad when she was moved across to her specialist’s training program in which they were given quite a run of freedom including practice digs out on the veld. By the end of four years studying she had left on a glorious sunny day and her eyes were filled with bright promise and hope for the future clutching her diploma in one hand and her assignment papers in the other. It didn’t take long for the bubble to burst.

   Her first two years were spent aboard the great Battle-cruiser Kraken where she was only called upon for one planetary mission only to find the First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Miller had written down the wrong name and instead of the vessel’s marine biologist, Lieutenant Maeve Underwood they had got the ship’s only archaeologist whose shovel and can-do attitude was completely wasted on the Oceanic world. She watched younger cadets get promoted past her and the boredom had seriously begun to eat at her morale when through chance a golden opportunity had slid across her desk. The Institute on Dremeridius VII was looking for a student professor and tenured researcher into temples in the sector.

   She couldn’t get off the Kraken fast enough and found herself in Archaeologist’s paradise. The station was set on a rural agricultural world that was very similar to where she had grown up with beautiful walks, inviting green woodlands but with the bonus of an Academy grade library and research facilities. Despite being one of only three women and half the age of most of the academics she was respected and treated as if she had always been there. She had her own office and space to sit and write papers, maybe go on two digs a year to the nearby Dremerdius IV with its flowing blue rivers and hazy meadows that swam through the methane atmosphere. Before she knew it fourteen years had passed her by and she found herself catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. The first few line had begun forming at the corner of her eyes and a thin streak of grey had developed in her jet black hair which ran from just behind her left ear and ran down to her shoulder blade.

   Jane had never been particularly vain about her looks, she had always taken care of herself with regular exercise and her pale blue eyes, light freckling across her nose and soft features had led many to consider her pretty. “Not beautiful but pretty like a field mouse” as her mother would say. The grey hair did act as a prompt for her to consider what she was doing with her life and her choice of assignment. Dremerdius was comfortable, it offered great resources for study and writing but was it what she wanted in the long term? Did she want to end her career here like the other officers or join the brass plates on the memorial wall of the library for death in service? Death from old age.

   Before she could deliberate on the question the Endeavour had arrived in orbit.

   An expedition to Nygma IX had been put together and the Sector Council wanted an archaeological survey carried out before Endeavour’s teraformers began their work. Lieutenant Commander Devonshire, the lead archaeologist had at first hoped to expand his field team but on discovering that most of the facility’s staff were well past the age of active duty so he settled for Jane and her knowledge of ancient temples in the sector. It was true she had written extensively on the subject for three years and was the first to map and theorise that the Dremeridius temple was a blue print for twelve similar temples across the sector all clearly made by the same race. After saying good bye to her friends and colleagues and her adopted cat, Mittens, she had boarded Endeavour full of enthusiasm and expectation for the future operation.

   That was four months ago.

   Since then her daily routine had involved her daily run around the ship, answering queries, checking and inventorying all of the Archaeological equipment and repeat. The only silver lining was they were finally only a day away from Nygma.

“Good Morning Jane.” Came the familiar dry monotone voice of Commander Devonshire. “Wearing your hair down today?”

She slowly pulled herself from the reminisces to meet his affable smile. “Sorry Sir, I’ve not got around to putting it up yet.”

“No, no, don’t worry” he raised his hands defensively “I like it. We’re fairly informal here.”

That they were.
“Listen,” he began without missing a beat. “I don’t want you to check the equipment this afternoon.”

She felt her eyes widen with surprise but managed to recompose herself before Devonshire noticed but she couldn’t hide the surprise from her voice. “Really sir?”

“Yes. We’re near position and we need to be ready to deploy our equipment and I need everything inventoried and taken to the main shuttle bay.”

“Yes Sir.” She answered in the defeated monotone that was rapidly becoming her signature voice. “I’ll do it immediately.”

 

She stood in the lift staring in the middle distance counting the floors off one by one. Endeavour was not a particularly large ship with its eighteen decks and two hundred metre length and an additional hundred for the engine module. The Crew of seventy-five was quite small and in the course of this seemingly torturous journey she had met all of them. There were of course the engineers, victualling staff, a small security detail and a host of mission specialists like herself. Most of the crew seemed friendly and she did enjoy the fact that she was recognised by her colleagues as she walked down the corridors rather than the faceless anonymity of life on the Kraken where she had been a face in thousands, a nameless nobody alone in the crowd.
   The lift door opened and the familiar featureless white corridor that led to the main security office burst into view with its over powering white strip lighting offending her eyes which had grown used to the comparative semi darkness of the rest of the ship. She paused at the non-descript metal door and pushed the intercom knowing full well that she had already been seen on the security cameras and a scuffle will have broken out as to who would get to the door first. She closed her eyes making an educated guess as to who was on duty who had got there first last time and the time of day.

“Morning Jane, you’re early.” – It was Jack, as always.

Staff Sergeant Jack Renfield was in his early thirties with a slightly receding blonde hair line and a pair of sparkling grey eyes that spelt mischief.

“Well he wants to make doubly certain the equipment is fully functioning and operable for tomorrow. Would you mind opening the stores one last time and escorting me to the shuttle bay please?” She favoured him with her brightest smile and saw him blush a broad shade of pink.

“Sure Jane, let me go get the key card.” And with that he darted back into the office.

  She continued on mental autopilot as she tried to remember how many times she had been down this corridor since coming aboard. It must be once may be twice a day and she had memorised how many floor panels there were, where the security proximity alarms, how many footsteps it took before Jack would appear in the door to the second. The boring off-white walls and scratched dull steel deck plates no longer offended her and she had worryingly become accustomed to it. She reached the first of the heavy black security doors that lined the corridor and paused to look at its unremarkably shiny surface. There were four more doors, each sealed with the two card locks and monitored by cameras and door alarms. She was not certain what each of the stores held but one belonged to the terraformers and one to the Science teams and she guessed one belonged to the Security team for their heavier weapons but in honesty, she was not certain. She could ask Jack and he would no doubt spill the beans, he always did, but part of her really didn’t want to know. She could not be guilty of anything if she could honestly plead ignorance.

It always unnaturally hot in the secure corridor and she subconsciously unbuttoned her naval blue uniform jacket to reveal her bleached white undershirt. She was just unbuttoning her collar when the main door swung open and a jacketless Jack strolled nonchalantly into the corridor whistling and swinging the security key card on the end of its lanyard.

“Devonshire does now all of his equipment is held in a stasis field so is unaffected by any external stimulus and that to get to it you need both our keys and disable a whole host of alarms?”

“You would hope so.” Jane forced a smile as she pushed her key card into the first lock.

As the door opened with the his of escaping compressed air she entered in her security code, 703639, onto the keypad within the stores and the lights beyond within the cavern lit up to reveal several large wooden crates sat in the middle of the floor. She turned back to Jack still holding onto the smile.

“I’ll start with the inventory and final checks and I’ll give you a shout when I’m ready to leave.”
“No problem,” he paused “are you going planetside in the morning?”
“Yes, I’m quite looking forward to it.” This time the smile was not forced and the joy of finally getting off this ship and doing something she enjoyed.

“If you would like, and you have a spare hour tonight, would you like me to go through basic weapons training? When was the last time you fired your side arm?”

She looked him up and down noting the slight paunch of a man who spent most of his time working at computer screens. “When was the last time you fired yours?”

Jack’s face fell under the acidic blast and he muttered an almost inaudible retraction as he turned to leave.

Guilt bubbled through Jane as she realised her defensive whiplash tongue had got the better of her. Jack was pretty much the only member of the crew that she spoke to on a regular basis and was probably the closest thing she had to a friend. Everyone seemed fairly nice but she still felt like an outsider at times especially that she, as a woman, was in the minority. As the voyage had worn on she had been propositioned by more than a few of the male crew but following a spate of unwanted advances often foiled by some of her best acidic putdowns, Mr Miles, the ship’s Second officer, had stepped in to resolve the situation. She knew she wasn’t the only woman on crew to suffer the same way.

“Jack, wait.” She sighed. “Look, I’m off duty from 18:00 hours. Why don’t we get something to eat in the Officer’s mess? I’ll even vouch for you Sergeant.” She tried her most infectious grin and attempted a quick wink which she feared came off rather clumsily through lack of practice. Her gamble paid off as a soft smile slowly touched his lips but soon spread like wildfire across his face.
“Thanks, I’d like that.” He said with a gentle nod. “I’ll meet you there.”

She watched Jack quickly take his leave of her and she couldn’t help but smile. There was something about him that reminded her of… She suddenly winced as the painful memory came rushing to the surface clawing at her heart with steel daggers and buried deep and it took all of her mental strength to supress it. A long time had passed since she had thought about Ed. An even longer time recovering from his loss, a recovery which had been one of the positives of her long stay at Dementrius.

First Lieutenant Ed van Dahl had been a young, vibrant fighter pilot with a glittering career ahead of him. He was a son, a brother, a friend and her soulmate. They had met in the Kraken’s library and had got talking about Kadbulian architecture, the lost civilisation of Zerroud and the possibility of alien cultures transporting between temples through an She never thought she would have an in depth conversation with another officer not in her field let alone with a fighter pilot. As first she thought it was a a practical joke but the more they spoke the more she realised that his knowledge was too deep for someone who had just grazed the surface.

They had gone for dinner a few times, shared leave and spent as much of their off-duty time as they could. She had felt like she had known him all of her life, that within the short period of knowing him they had become intrinsically linked like two symbionts working for the benefit of the whole host. Now she thought back about it she could only scoff at how cheesy it sounded but they finished each other’s sentences and engaged each other on an intellectual level. She feared that she was only with him as he was the first person on the ship to notice her existence but deep down she knew it was more than that. On the Anniversary of their first deep discussion in the Library he took her back to Rowlatt VII and took her for a picnic under her tree. In the streaming sunshine he had asked her to marry him. It had all been perfect, too perfect. Within a week he was dead. His Nautilus fighter had ploughed into the ground during a routine patrol, the cause of which was thought to have been a clogged intake valve caused by sloppy maintenance. She had been devastated. She went to see her supervising officer to try and get leave and it took twenty minutes for Lieutenant Commander Potts to realise who Jane was and five minutes to refuse the request on the grounds that they were not married. Colonel Mahltzahn, Ed’s commanding officer, had come to see her and to express the Group’s sadness at his lost. He had sat with her for an hour as she cried into her pillow. He tried to be as supportive as he could, but she could tell this was not his forte and that he was torn from doing his duty and escaping. When she finally managed to get a grip of herself she had thanked him for his time and support and the Colonel offered to help her any time she ever needed him, but she never saw him again. Thankfully her role aboard ship was so minimal that she could just drop off the radar and spend time alone deep in the bowels of the vessel surrounded by her books and papers and only have to attend basic staff meetings once a week. It was difficult though as everything aboard ship reminded her of him and then like a life line the offer to join the Dementrius facility came along.

Now, several years later she was going for dinner one on one with someone for the first time since Mahltzahn had fled her quarters and she was feeling strangely elated at the prospect. She had always felt that the name “Officer’s mess” was much nicer sounding than perhaps it was. Despite the oak panelling and table cloths it was after all a windowless box. She entered the nearly empty Mess wearing the required Dress uniform white jacket, her three tour of duty ribbons and two miniature medals which she would rather not wear as they only signified that she had turned up for duty. For her serving in the fleet was not about military awards or glorious combat – in fact it wasn’t even for the betterment of the Human race rather for her studies. There were days that her morale was so low that any day where she could be left alone to read and write and still get paid was a good day.
“Table for one sir?” A white jacketed rating on Mess duty approached her. He had an air of arrogance and if she didn’t know better she would have thought he was looking down his nose at her.
“No thank you, two please. I have a guest coming.”
“Very good sir.” The rating gestured to a table in the far corner with two uncomfortable wooden chairs adorned with small green cushions, at least it would afford them some privacy.
No sooner had she sat down than Jack appeared in the doorway, his jacket immaculately white and adorned with six tour ribbons and several impressive looking medals and a Galactic Cross at his throat. She had never thought of him as a warrior, he was just Jack, the portly security officer who unlocked the store door and flirted badly with her. She stood up and awaited his approach, but Jack seemed to be having a disagreement with the rating at the door, although their voices were kept at a respectful volume they were clearly arguing. Eventually the snobby rating approached her and began to talk down his nose to her.
“This… Sergeant claims to be invited sir.”
She straightened her back and tried to put on her best commanding officer impression. “Indeed, that is true crewman.”
“Sir, I must remind you that according to Ship’s regulations no NCO or crewman not on Mess Duty is strictly forbidden from the Officer’s Mess.”
Jane became painfully aware of other officers looking up from their meals and drinks and all eyes were locked on the two creating a scene. As if the moment was not uncomfortable enough someone cleared their throat in a derisive way and that was enough for her.
“Jane, it doesn’t matter.” Jack caught her eye. “I’ll see you another time.”
She could see his embarrassment and that he was fading fast under the negative attention yearning to get back to the safety of the security office. Suddenly she was embarrassed for him and she wanted to escape as well. As her resolve faded away all she could bring herself to do was nod acceptingly and flee towards the door and her friend mouthing “I’m sorry.”
“Its ok.” He forced a smile “I’m used to it. Sergeant’s mess?”
“That would be great.” She nodded “If it is acceptable for an officer to be in there!”
They both laughed and she stole a glance up at her friend and how relaxed he was becoming as if the whole incident had never happened “Tell me something. Where did you get your Galactic Cross?”
He half laughed. “I found it at the bar, one of the officers left it whilst drinking.”
She slapped his arm “Come on. You’ve not worn it before.”
Jack slipped into quiet thought. “I don’t like to wear it, it reminds me of a horrible time in my life. I got it for saving a wounded soldier and dragging him a mile back to our lines under heavy fire. Had I known he was an officer I probably would have left him there.”
Jane looked into his sad grey eyes and tried to gauge whether he was being serious or not. His eyes looked haunted by memories of that day and many others on a distant battlefield. She realised that she barely knew the man beside her, she had completely misjudged him and now she had so many questions for him she felt that this was neither the time or the place and they lapsed into a not uncomfortable silence.
   Finally he spoke slowly and with purpose. “Jane, tomorrow you’re going into the unknown and despite what these experts think it is exceptionally dangerous. Promise me that you will be careful and don’t be a hero. Run if you need to.”

Thursday, 23 April 2015

The Hunt

The sword cut through the air in an effortless half-moon crescent gleaming white in the morning sunlight before glancing off the throat of the attacking warrior and sliding away leaving a deep slash. As the man fell to the floor grasping at the spraying wound Commander Lexa regathered her attack stance centring her energies and balance. She must live in her training or perish and in her mind's eye there was nothing but the next target as he too rushed towards her wielding a two handed axe swinging it back over his right shoulder as he prepared to deliver her a fatal blow.

 With a calm side step she allowed the man to continue his charge and swing with the axe head cleaving the air in which she had been standing with force. Lexa's blade slashed across the back of the man's knees cutting sinew and flesh and leaving him laying on the floor unable to stand. The whole move had taken seconds. 

"Commander!" 

Lexa's eyes darted along the tree line to where Indra stood surrounded by fallen warriors, whether they were her's or Movar's she could not know.

"That was the last of them!"

Lexa widened her perception from her mental combat circle and glanced around the clearing in front of her. The golden brown leaf littered ground was covered with thirty to forty dead and dying warriors and sprayed by their blood. Behind her on the ridge of the tree line she could see her four bowmen laying flat, barely visible to the enemy. All that remained was Movar's encampment below.

The ramshackle collection of crude wooden huts formed a circle around the still smouldering remains of a cooking fire and she could make out a few bedrolls scattered on the floor.

Lexa lowered her blade so the tip hung inches above the ground seemingly disarmed but like a scorpion's tail ready to deliver death with one swift movement.

"Movar! Come out and face our justice! You have no more warriors left to hide behind!"

She doubted there would be a response, the coward lacked honour and had been betraying their cause to the Mountain Men and slaving other villages to the Reapers. It was only on freeing the prisoners from Mount Weather that his treachery had been revealed. 

The Mountain.

Her eyes darted up to the rocky edifice to her left which towered above the tree line to touch the clear blue sky.
"Will we ever be free of them?" She wondered. 

She had freed her people for now but how long before they needed fresh blood? How long before their Reapers were scouring the woods once again dragging women, children and wounded warriors deep into their fetid caverns below those rocks? How long before she would have to try another attack but this time without the Sky People.

Clarke.

She had betrayed their blonde leader, a girl a few years younger than herself yet so naive. She had tried to teach her, show her the realities of being a ruler, that tough decisions must be made and that your people must come first even over your own feelings and desires. Feelings were a weakness. She had tried to explain that to...

To Clarke...

The name resonated in her head again like a faint echo. Her nose filled with the scent of her hair and her lips twitched with the memory of the feel of Clarke's pressed against them.

She pushed the feelings aside, the leader of the Sky People was of no importance only Movar's encampment and the blade in her hand. She raised it into a combat stance and moved forward again, her eyes darting from window to door to open space searching for the traitor.

She deftly moved between a pair of wooden huts and stared into the clearing beyond, her senses straining for any hint of attack or approach but thee was nothing. Perhaps Movar had fled? 

Without taking her eyes off the clearing she raised her left fist to signal her warriors to advance and prepare to search house to house if the traitor would not come and fight. She contemplated taking up position at the Central camp fire but didn't want to make herself vulnerable.

Lexa's warrior's approached stealthily from behind the ridge and with a tight nod left and right they broke into small assault groups and headed towards the huts weapons ready. 

Indra was at her side with her sword drawn.
"Do you really think he is here still?" Her question was more of a challenge than query and Lexa met it with the slightest shake of her head.

"No, he will have bought time for his escape with the lives of his warriors. We will have to track him."

"He will not be easy to follow, he knows these woods as well as we do." Indra looked across the clearing to the tree line opposite.

"He hasn't gone into the woods." Lexa said calmly, her eyes burning. "He's gone underground" she lifted her sword and pointed at a cave entrance opposite that was mostly obscured by bracken. It would have been easily missed had the bracken not been parted by something or someone recently.

With an icy smile playing across her face Lexa advanced raising her sword.
"The hunt is on."

Sunday, 6 July 2014

Deep Space contact

Helen's eyes opened with a start the black of her pupils shrinking under the harsh strip lights and
focusing on her surroundings. She was still cold from the deep slumber, her exposed flesh was dimpled and on seeing the white flickering steam of her breath just made her shiver involuntarily.

Her brain was as numbed as her joints and it took her a few moments to remember where she was and why she was in a pod billions of miles away from her friends and family in the deep dark abyss of space.


"Cecile" her voice croaked from a long dry throat. "Cecile, can you state location please."


A few moments passed as she blinked the sleep from her eyes and yawned. Why did she feel so numb? This wasn't her first stasis journey, she was used to these short hops from the Sol system to the colonies Rowlatt and Spee station, in fact they were almost routine, so routine she had saved about five years of her life.


A flashing green cursor on the glass face plate of the long cylindrical pod that she had called home for the last who knows how long, caught her attention. It hurriedly typed a line of text.


Good Morning Lieutenant Fallon - Your vitals are showing normal and the ship is ready for you.



"Where are we Cecile? What happened to your audio?"

Again the blinking cursor flashed.

Our current position is 0.059 by 0.874 by 1. My audio circuits have degraded over time and require maintenance.


Helen laid there for a moment trying to wrap her brain around the information she had just received.

"Wait Cecile, are you sure of those coordinates?"

The blinking Cursor, taunting her, appeared again.


Affirmative.



"Cecile, how much time has passed since the crew entered sleep?"

The answer was almost instantaneous.


Four hundred years, four months and eight days.



Helen's eyes widened with shock and horror. This had meant to be a short hop of a couple of weeks yet if her estimates were right they were now sat on the edge of the galactic plain. What could have gone so wrong with Cecile and the sleeper systems to allow such a huge deviation.

Then it hit her, deviation was not the word for it. Her family, her dog, her fiancé, whom she was due to marry in six months were all long dead and buried, so were their grand children and their grand children. As far as she knew they were so far removed from any form of civilisation and Human space that the likelihood of being found was phenomenally small.

Her heart began to pound against her rib cage in panic and her breathing was becoming more and more frantic. She had to get our of this metal tomb, she had to be free, she had to see for herself. Cecile had said that there was a problem with her vocal processors, maybe her cognitive systems were offline and in need of retuning. Maybe all of this was just a computer glitch and they were five days off course.


"Cecile, open the hatch. Open it quickly please." Her panic began to overspill into her voice and she started to press her hands against the glass and push. She had to get out immediately.

Thankfully there was the reassuring snap of the locks and the hiss of heavily processed incoming air that greeted her nostrils causing them to curl away. She didn't care she just had to get out. She pushed the lid up hard and swung her legs out onto the metallic floor.

As she gulped down the air she looked around the emergency lit empty room. The only sign of life was the flashing green cursor on the blank computer screen on the far wall, strangely none of the other pods were opening or even lit. She hopped down onto the hard metallic floor and crossed with urgency to the nearest stasis pod.


The glass on the front was covered with a thick layer of dust obscuring the occupant's features. She gulped in apprehension as fear began to gnaw in the pit of her stomach as she noticed the power light was blank and not its' customary constant red.


It has to be empty
. she thought to herself. Please... let it be empty.


She flicked off the latches and tried to lift the lid but it refused to move. Looking round she saw an emergency fire axe in a glass case on the wall opposite, she quickly removed it and jammed the shaft into the gap and pushed down with all her strength. A loud his of escaping dust and air greeted her as the decaying seals tore apart and opened. She coughed and forced down a retch as the full cloud of noxious smell hit her, her fears that this pod wasn't empty were becoming realised. As the dust cleared she saw it, the white skull amidst the grey dust of what remained of what had formerly been a crew member and friend. This had been Engineers mate Harry Honisch.


She fell backwards onto the floor and stared up at the opened casket in shock. Honisch was a good friend to her and the rest of the crew. He'd been a middle aged family man with six kids on the German colony on Mimas which he missed every time he went away. Not that it mattered, they would all be long dead now. It didn't seem fair, how could he be dead?

After what seemed like an eternity she climbed to her feet and crossed to the Computer screen.


"What happened Cecille?"


There has been a power shortage. I had to save those who were the most vital to the mission and sacrifice the few.



The bluntness made her wince, why was she more vital than Harry?

"Who else is still alive?" She found herself asking but dreading the answer.


The following personnel are alive;


Lt. Cmdr P. Burgess (First Officer)
Lt H. Fallon (Navigator)
Lt R. Kommanova (Engineer)


She read the short list three times. Three people out of a crew of fifteen. Suddenly she realised there was a name missing that she had hoped would have still been there.

"Cecille what is the status of Lieutenant Jo Upcraft?"


Deceased.
A one word answer that cut through her straight to her core. "When?"


Two years and four months ago.



So close yet... She crossed slowly and deliberately towards the pod that she knew had held her friend. She held her hand out above the covered glass and let it hover not wanting to scrape away the dust and confirm what she knew was true.


Finally she lowered her hand and wiped away the grey mass and there she was. The air tight nature of the stasis chamber meant that decomposition was slowed right down and the young girl with curly brown hair laid there with her eyes shut and hands resting on her chest as if sleeping.


"Is there no way to resuscitate her?" Helen's voice was a croaky whisper. "There has to be something we can do. Cecille? Answer me!"


With a whispered curse she turned back to the monitor on the far side of the room and stared at the read out from the ship's computer.


Lt Upcraft is deceased I'm afraid. There is nothing that can be done to revive her. When the systems began to fail her heart rate was slowed down and stopped whilst she slept. Too much time has passed and her vital organs have already began to degrade and her brain has been dead for too long.

I am sorry Helen. As a cartographer she was considered to be highly valuable to the mission but as the power systems continued to degrade she was considered to be expendable in comparison to the others.


The facts were irrefutable but that didn't make it any easier. She stared down at her friend, her eyes welling up and her throat choking up. It felt like only an hour ago that they were saying good bye to each other not four centuries. Why did she get picked to go and not her?


I awoke Lt. Kommanova several times over the last Century. He has been working steadily to try and economise power and re-route many of the dying systems. The priorities were for engine control and the stasis pods.



She nodded slowly, they were not decisions she wanted to make. How can you weigh one human life against another? How could Jo have been allowed to go but not her just because she was the navigation officer and Jo the Cartographer? The slimmest of margins had sealed Jo's fate and poor Hohnisch.


"Where are the others?"


Kommanova is in engineering and Burgess is on the observation deck looking over the logs. He requires you there as soon as possible to discuss the situation.


She nodded slowly turning her mind forcibly away from Jo's death, there was nothing more that could be done, however much it hurt. She had to find out what had gone wrong and how they ended up here in the middle of nowhere, or rather the edge of nowhere.


She stepped out of the door and into the dimly lit corridor hearing her boots clank on the metal plated flooring. It was a strange noise, one that she hadn't heard that often. Usually the hallways were bustling with people or background noise and all the other things that she took for granted now in this empty ship drifting through space everything was bombarding her senses. She could hear the engines pulsing and even the electronic buzzing from the power conduits passing their information.

She cautiously continued down towards the observation deck scolding her self that there was no reason to be scared or cautious, this was her ship with her friends aboard. What was the worse that could happen? She reached the door and paused, a noise behind her, something she wouldn't have heard if the ship was its normal busy self but it was unmistakable. Boots on metal. No one had been alive in the Stasis bay, no one could have come from there. Part of her brain willed it to be Jo still alive but she instantly dismissed it, it had to be something else. Her gut reacted telling her it was something bad, she could feel it in her soul that something malevolent was at the other end of the corridor, not evil per say but deeply, deeply wrong. With a gulp of air in her dry throat she gently tilted her head to the right and there it was. She caught a glimpse of a tall figure wrapped in a black cloak with a hood that cast the face into shadow, all that was visible was a pair of black eyes that glinted under the emergency lighting and a cruel smile that twitched as it regarded her.


She placed her hand on her side arm and span round to face the intruder but as quickly as she turned the figure dissolved into thin air as if wiped away and she found herself staring down the empty corridor at a maze of piping and conduits in the exposed wall cavity. There was nothing there, and it was unlikely there had been anything there.


"You've been in stasis too long Helen, your mind is getting distracted." she tutted to herself as she activated the door stud that opened to the observation deck. "Too long."

Sunday, 23 February 2014

Defiance: redraft of Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Zosen IV was a hive of activity. The colony on this far flung, temperate world had been founded five years previously and had rapidly increased in size. Settlers from all over the Empire had been drawn to the rich mineral deposits and the endless employment in the defence factories. The Admiralty required a constant stream of warships, star fighters, and a defence force garrison. The population had grown from the first few thousand settlers who had emerged from the seeding ships to forty million in just five years.

Unlike so many other worlds forcibly settled by Parliament, Zosen IV had a rich wealth of minerals and a good temperate climate and no surprises. The memory of Partolli II was still fresh in the mind of every Galactic Scout and colonist. The planet scans showed a similar template as Alpha prime and rich in minerals with fertile soil. Four nights into the colonies existence all nine thousand settlers were killed, as was the battalion of soldiers sent to investigate. It was a month before the next military vessel passed by and landed more troops. Lieutenant Herrick, the sole survivor reported to his Captain that nocturnal Ogre like creatures rose from the caves and culled everyone.

Luckily for the millions on Zosen nothing like that existed here.

By eighteen years old Stacey Nash had already seen much of the Galaxy. Her father had been assigned as a navigator on a civilian Survey ship and had taken his family with him. Stacey had seen the birth of a star, looked into the eternal darkness of a black hole and the deep purple haze of a Quagor Nebula. Life on the "Aurora" had been educational and an experience that had moulded her view of the galaxy, it was bigger than her and in comparison she was a tiny atom in a much larger animal. She knew others who thought they were a vital organ or even the very centre of the Galaxy but she let them labour under their false beliefs, it would one day catch up with them one lonely night. She still thought about the days out in deep space wandering and exploring, she would let her mind return there to stop it thinking about the boring nature of her job and there here and now…

Now though... Now she was stuck here. Her mother had died four years previously and her father had deteriorated and almost penniless took the emperor's golden credit and became a miner on Zosen. After the accident that had left his left side paralysed she had taken a job as a pit worker too. Two years of scratching a living from rock and taking care of her two younger brothers had left her with a wistful melancholy but with a chipper sense of humour. She had learnt to swing a pick and operate heavy machinery quickly and to defend herself from the advances of the other miners even quicker. More than one man had reported to the infirmary with a broken jaw or arm and the whisper "Leave Stacey Nash" ran quickly through them. She loved the respect she had earned but it came at a price, people were often too scared of her and she was often treated as a pariah by most. Her only real friends were Eddie and George, two other pit workers from the same watch. George was like a surrogate father who constantly looked out for her where as Eddie was a young lad, a newbie. She' saved him from a fight two years previous and since then they'd become inseparable. Eddie reminded her of her brothers and his wide eyed youth, albeit that he was only two years younger than her, was like a reminder of the innocence she had lost the moment she had walked into the mines and picked up that axe for the first time.

It had been another gruelling day in the mines. The government had upped the quota of ore required, they were obviously gearing up for something and the supervisors were taking it out on the workers with louder threats, shouts and abuse than usual. More carts had to be filled, more rock chipped and with less workers as the military reservists were called up for active duty.  She was even starting to feel grudging jealousy for them, a way off planet or at best out of the mines and into a barracks with regular food and pay. She had thought about volunteering but who would take care of her family? She was also below regulation height and she had heard women got a tough time in the infantry which was a shame because she had been trained to shoot by her father and she had always been a dead shot.

Stacey and Eddie were walking down the escalator to the habitation sector, stretching their aching arm muscles and trying to acclimatise to the bright summer day light. The sound of martial music carried across the crisp cool morning air. Stacey strained her eyes in the direction it came from. From their lofty vantage point she could see the columns of figures marching along the main street that ran through the centre of town before cutting past the pits and on to the space ports and the squadrons of transport ships that had been arriving for the past fortnight. Green helmets bobbed like a sea whilst silver plates and bayonets glinted and sparkled in the sun. The sounds of crumping boots on concrete and the shrill shouted orders of officers and NCOs carried through the still air/

"Looks like a parade." Eddie said incredulously

"Well Yeah..." Her dry sense of humour often relied on Eddie's stupid comments and was rarely left wanting.

"Do you want to take a closer look?"

She didn't even have to answer, this was excitement and standing in the darkness all day carving out chunks of rock was an occupation that needed any form of excitement, anything new to talk about in the canteen or if you saw a colleague for a few fleeting moments before you felt the lash of a supervisor’s tongue for shirking duties.

The hurried down the hill and into the shanty town of grotty prefabs, lean-to's and unsanitary tenements that lived under the grandiose name of worker’s habitation sector. Jumping a burst sewer main and its stinking discharge they picked their way through the slime towards the merchant sector and the aortic road that was the "Main Street."

Stacey had become accustomed to this place. She hated it and yearned to leave but the sights, sounds and smells had long been engrained in her mind and she had acclimatised even secretly loved it. She knew every alleyway, back route and side street in Mineville. The official cartographers and military planners probably called it something else but for those who lived here it would always be named after it’s defining feature.

Eddie still curled his nose in disgust at the effluent that flowed down the street in the open drain and tried to avoid stepping in slime. His attitude would change but Stacey hoped that would take a long time, when others had lost their standards and embraced their lot they had lost a part of themselves as she feared she had.

They crossed the rusting bridge over the brown slimy river that was clogging with slag and sewage and into the "Merchant sector" and walked down the dark ally into the cheering crowd.

Through the mass of citizens Stacey could make out the soldiers of the fourth Zosen light infantry, their pulse rifles held to the port, the regimental band playing with a jaunty number that kept everyone in step behind the red regimental standard. Behind the column of men came the APCs and light tanks. Their engines roared a throaty cough as they rolled down the black tarmac streets.

It was an impressive sight especially for the civilians who rarely saw such a spectacle, or any spectacle come to that. She couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride at the flower of Zosen’s youth marching off to war to protect them from alien aggression. They’d all read the news and releases about how the N’kell ate human young and were a terror of all civilisation pillaging their way across the Galaxy and now they were coming this way. Animals in body armour with large claws and a savage disorganised and poorly equipped scourge that would ravage the planet and leave it burning before continuing on. These boys would stop them in their tracks and turn them around at the first battle. Tell this barbarian horde to try somewhere else.

"Fools" a familiar voice filled her ears. George stepped out of one of the shadowy doorways and up to her and Eddie.

“Come on George they’re the shield of the Empire.” Eddie scoffed

“They’re dead men walking.” His voice was as cold and crisp as the morning air. “I’ve fought the N’kell boy, they are ruthless and efficient killers bent on one thing- the annihilation of the enemy. When their Admiralty has finished wiping these boys out they will come for us here.”

“Do you really think so George?” Stacey half smiled as she tried to make light of the dark prediction. “I’ve heard the N’kell are a mindless rabble. Surely our disciplined lads will make short work of them?”

“Definitely” Eddie pointed at the proud looking infantry column “They’ll deal with them easily. Look at all their kit, the discipline.”

George shook his head, his eyes fixed on the troops. “Their high command has known this day was coming and have prepared for any incursion by us. Then once our shield is cut off they’ll stab deep into our heart.”

Stacey’s blood ran cold. What if George was right?

“I’ve seen N’kell troopers, twice the size of you boy, seen ‘em cut a man in two with one swing of their blades. I watched a whole battalion wiped out by a squad of their frontline assault troopers like they weren’t there. They’ll fight and they’ll win and then they’ll come here.”

“But…”  Eddie tried to break into George’s flow but was waved silent by the elder man.

       “Discipline and weaponary is all well and good on the battlefield but the trick is to get off your warships first. Their warships are impressive, even more so than ours and they know that we’re coming, you think these boys will stand and fight on the field of battle? I say they won’t even get to disembark.” George took one last look at the parade before turning away towards the Worker’s habitation area. “You mark my words… Death will come to us all if they cross the border.”