I lost everything on my comp last night, had to revert to the factory save.
Woot.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
A day in the life
You wake up. The first thing you do is wonder if this is a good idea. You start to wonder why you should bother waking up in the first place. Sleep is blissful, in many ways. It was, before last night, the one time you didn't think, the one time the creeping sadness wasn't on the edge of your mind. Until last night.
This isn't the first time you've woken up. Last night you drifted in and out of sleep. You were having what to most guys your age would be a GOOD dream. Two hot chicks with ample everything. Your attracted to them. They even end up sleeping in the same bed as you. But not sexually. Not even really romantically. You realize that you've become their best friends while they date some asshole. Even in your own dreams, you can't get the girl. So the dream becomes a nightmare.
As you dredge your memories through the dream, which is remaining bright and vivid in your mind detail to detail, you slowly crawl out of bed. You get into the shower and let the water run over you as you scrub your head absently. You cry a bit. It's alright though, there's no one around to see it and no one will ever know.
It would be nice, you think, if this was new. But the dream last night was just a note in a lifetime of similar things. It's just before it never followed you into your dreams. But now it has. One of the last bastions of your sanity crumbles as you realize sleep will no longer be the sweet oblivion it used to be.
You don't look at yourself in the mirror as you go by it. You can't. Every time you do you see yourself looking back. You wander downstairs. You can't look your family in the face. When they talk to you your muscles tighten up, your jaw squares and you have to grind your teeth. You hear the disappointment in their voice and see it in their faces. You desperately want to be left alone so you don't have to look at them and see how far you've fallen. But at the same time you crave company, and being alone scares you, depresses you.
You settle into your chair. The computer, now truly what seems to be the last bastion, the last thing to help you not think. That's what it boils down to. When you think, your thoughts inevitably turn black. Smiling becomes hard. You've spent your whole life smiling, up until a few months ago, to hide from the world. But recently it's just become to much to keep up. Instead you settle for a sort of blank neutrality with just a hint of frown.
You wait patiently for the computer to boot up. You take the time to clean up a bit. Get a glass of your drink of choice for now.
In your torso, your heart is like a lead ball settled against the top of your stomach. Your throat feels constantly choked, like your about to break out crying at any moment, but you can't, because their are other people home today. The fact that you think you have to hide it just makes you want to cry more.
You check your email. A spark of hope, a thrill of energy. Something you wanted to see has arrived and you feel the briefest flicker of positive emotion, and you try to hold onto it but it fades away rapidly. Still, maybe you can go back and it will come back again.
Your trying to get work. Yesterday you got a call from another place you applied at that started out well. "Your resume looks good" says the voice, but you can hear it. The hint that "but" is going to pop up. "But" says the voice "We're just not able to hire on any new staff at this time, though we will keep your resume on hand for another six months, in case a position opens up.". Well. Thats nice. You wish them a happy thanksgiving and thank them for giving you a call (the followup on your part had been a bit of a hassle, and you wondered if complaining about the phone operator would get them fired). So you settle in. Oh well. It's time to distract yourself...so you sit down and boot up your games of choice, and then you start typing in your blog. It begins..."You wake up."
This isn't the first time you've woken up. Last night you drifted in and out of sleep. You were having what to most guys your age would be a GOOD dream. Two hot chicks with ample everything. Your attracted to them. They even end up sleeping in the same bed as you. But not sexually. Not even really romantically. You realize that you've become their best friends while they date some asshole. Even in your own dreams, you can't get the girl. So the dream becomes a nightmare.
As you dredge your memories through the dream, which is remaining bright and vivid in your mind detail to detail, you slowly crawl out of bed. You get into the shower and let the water run over you as you scrub your head absently. You cry a bit. It's alright though, there's no one around to see it and no one will ever know.
It would be nice, you think, if this was new. But the dream last night was just a note in a lifetime of similar things. It's just before it never followed you into your dreams. But now it has. One of the last bastions of your sanity crumbles as you realize sleep will no longer be the sweet oblivion it used to be.
You don't look at yourself in the mirror as you go by it. You can't. Every time you do you see yourself looking back. You wander downstairs. You can't look your family in the face. When they talk to you your muscles tighten up, your jaw squares and you have to grind your teeth. You hear the disappointment in their voice and see it in their faces. You desperately want to be left alone so you don't have to look at them and see how far you've fallen. But at the same time you crave company, and being alone scares you, depresses you.
You settle into your chair. The computer, now truly what seems to be the last bastion, the last thing to help you not think. That's what it boils down to. When you think, your thoughts inevitably turn black. Smiling becomes hard. You've spent your whole life smiling, up until a few months ago, to hide from the world. But recently it's just become to much to keep up. Instead you settle for a sort of blank neutrality with just a hint of frown.
You wait patiently for the computer to boot up. You take the time to clean up a bit. Get a glass of your drink of choice for now.
In your torso, your heart is like a lead ball settled against the top of your stomach. Your throat feels constantly choked, like your about to break out crying at any moment, but you can't, because their are other people home today. The fact that you think you have to hide it just makes you want to cry more.
You check your email. A spark of hope, a thrill of energy. Something you wanted to see has arrived and you feel the briefest flicker of positive emotion, and you try to hold onto it but it fades away rapidly. Still, maybe you can go back and it will come back again.
Your trying to get work. Yesterday you got a call from another place you applied at that started out well. "Your resume looks good" says the voice, but you can hear it. The hint that "but" is going to pop up. "But" says the voice "We're just not able to hire on any new staff at this time, though we will keep your resume on hand for another six months, in case a position opens up.". Well. Thats nice. You wish them a happy thanksgiving and thank them for giving you a call (the followup on your part had been a bit of a hassle, and you wondered if complaining about the phone operator would get them fired). So you settle in. Oh well. It's time to distract yourself...so you sit down and boot up your games of choice, and then you start typing in your blog. It begins..."You wake up."
Monday, November 23, 2009
Upcoming comic preview
I'm not the one who drew this. Its a collaboration between me and a guy I met on WoW. He drew it, I wrote it.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Caught Up
Alright, there you have it, all my previous stories, more will be coming soon along with reviews and what not.
By the way, if anyone could tell me if there's a way to have the archives store things by type rather then date/month/order I'd be grateful if you informed me as to the secret.
By the way, if anyone could tell me if there's a way to have the archives store things by type rather then date/month/order I'd be grateful if you informed me as to the secret.
Proving His Worth Part 3
Edthin awoke in a strange place. He could feel the wounds he had received from his own hand, but they seemed dull now, a memory of pain rather than the immediate sharpness of the bullet wounds was what remained. He moved a hand carefully to touch his stomach and felt the fresh scar tissue. Cellular regeneration had been used, it seemed, which hinted at Amarrians.
He spotted movement to his left and turned his head slightly, blinking away the fuzz seeming to cloud his visions. An Amarrian woman dressed in doctors’ robes. Good. And he wasn’t shackled, so apparently he wasn’t under arrest. He moved all his limbs carefully, getting a feel for his body, and smiled to himself as he slowly began to sit up, propping himself on his elbows. It wasn’t terrible, or blood spattered, as he would have suspected, just a well lit clinic rest area. He began to remove diodes from his body, and the Amarrian woman looked over in surprise, helping him
“Well, you’re finally awake Zachariah. Good to see. Though for how long…the commander is not happy about what happens and wants answers.” She said as she helped unhook him from the various pieces of equipment. She moved in and kissed him briefly “Good to have you back big boy…” She winked at him “Now stand up and walk around.”
Edthin looked at her, and then did so, gingerly at first. He had to walk with a slight hunch, since having a bullet pass through you can cause some serious back problems. He rubbed a shoulder “How long was I out?” he croaked.
“Another hunter picked you up a few minutes after the emergency signal got sent out…About ten hours.” The nurse said, handing him his pants. He changed swiftly, ignoring the hungry look “I’ll go report to the commander then…”
“There are guards waiting outside the door, of course.” The woman said, eying him “Try not to get killed.”
He smirked and nodded to her, before heading to the door. Outside were two guards, and he didn’t complain as the put him in shackles and prodded him none to gently. It saved him the problem of figuring out just where the place was.
He made a mental map as they walked through the station, noting a few points of interest. Occasionally they would pass a slave or a hub of people doing various things that would get them arrested in most empire space. He kept his face passive. They arrived before what he assumed was the commander’s door and he noted the inscription over the door. Cruor Vinculum. He almost smiled as he moved towards the doors and stepped through, stepping forward to the raised dais that held the commanders desk and control and command pad. He moved to his knees, prostrating himself. The commander was a cadaverous looking woman, eyes sunken, a crone by every definition. At her side was a younger, more fleshed out woman though still quite mature. She held a staff of office, and on top of that staff was a large, red crystal or gem. Edthin thanked whatever deity may or may not exist.
“Two crews worth of our people killed, with you as the only survivor, and what you have to say about it, pilot Zachariah.”
“It was a trap…I don’t know by whom…we lost contact with the ground teams and hunter one, and then whoever it was tried to board us ma’am…He managed to kill my communications officer before I killed him.” Edthin spoke, voice still a croak. It wasn’t entirely acting. They had apparently stuck something down his throat and it felt raw as all hell.
“His name was, and possibly still is, seeing as he was a capsuleer, Edthin Doe, a Gallentaen. We have no idea why he decided to set a trap for us…if it even was for us.” The commander pursed her lips as she moved around the desk, leaning against it “I suppose I can find no real fault on your part…you did your duty as best as your breeding allows for. I expect to see you at the next ceremony…” she picked up a crop from her desk and tapped her sharp chin with it.
“Yes your ladyship. I sing praises at your mercy.” Edthin said, best he could, as he began to crawl back towards the door.
“Do not be late, pilot” she said sternly, as Ed almost fled from the room.
- -
Edthin patched into the terminal of the pilot he had assumed the identity of. The system was laughable, even for him, and he quickly shot off a message before sitting back in his chair and smiling in the darkness. Soon he would be worthy, and he would be able to join with her.
- -
Edthin moved along the corridor with the other Raiders, towards the cathedral complex. He kept head down a bit as he moved along, watching his surroundings. Except for the blood motif the architecture was for all intents and purposes, Amarrian. As they filed into the main cathedral he had to snap his jaw shut suddenly, trying not to gape. He had never actually been in a cathedral before, so it was a shock. The walls were lined with carved metal that displayed stories sacred to the Blood Raiders. It was amazing, he wouldn’t kid himself. He sent his gaze over the cathedral as he moved to take a seat in what seemed to be the logical spot, next to the person who had been walking before and after him. One thing he was sure didn’t happen in the normal church was the river of blood flowing down the center aisle from a fountain covered in depictions of human figures enjoying each others bodies. Edthin had been trained in that sort of thing and he was almost positive some of those positions were physically impossible for human beings.
The head priestess, naked and bathed in blood, staff of office in one hand and cup in the other, lowered the chalice into the fountain and raised it up,
“Drink deep, brothers and sisters, and rejoice in our service to the true God!” and a number of chalices were passed around to the center aisle, who filled and sipped from the blood, passing them down the line. Edthin kept his face blank as he took the chalice in hand and raised it to his lips, teeth clicking as he drank from the blood. He closed his eyes at the sensation and felt his stomach try to lurch, passing the chalice onto the person next to him. He suddenly felt light headed, and things seemed to sharpen around him, the colors “popping”. He could hear moans from around the congregation as they began to fall into the ecstasy. He saw people being bought out through the haze descending on his mind, and saw the glint of knives.
Eventually his vision cleared, and he found himself in a room filled with weapons. He was covered in blood, and there was a dead man nearby, he too soaked in blood. Edthin dropped the knife and trembled as he moved over to corner, throwing up a bit and wiping his face. Everything felt so strange. Colors seemed to bleed together. There was a hollow roaring in his ears and the world began to spin. He was suddenly dreaming again. He knew he was dreaming because there he was lying on the floor, dead and bleeding. That was his self loathing. But he could hear more self loathing. He could hear their heart beats, thousands of them all around him. He gave a laugh as he picked up his datapad off the corpse and hit a few buttons, causing it to turn into chocolate. Chocolate gave him a headache. He dropped the chocolate and moved to the wall, running his hands over the glittering objects. There, a Vexor was in a rack, and there a Hyperion. He picked up a canister full of little hobgoblin drones and laughed as he set it into the Vexor, bringing the ship under his arm and squeezing around the bottom. Thousands of tiny drones flew out, attacking with vigor wherever they seemed to land, all over the glittering racks of ships. He paused as he saw a Amarrian titan.
“Wow!” he exclaimed, moving over. It was a suit! It took him a moment to open it up but he was soon inside, his head poking out just below the large umbrella top of the titan. A mask lowered over him and he made a noise as he moved “Wum wum wum, woosh” he said, giving a laugh. He moved to the doors, which melted before him, and picked up the Hyperion, cradling it under his arm. He picked up some of the candy crayon ammos strung in belts that seemed to go into it and clicked them into place, slinging the rest over his shoulder. Even the titan seemed to have realistic weapons. He laughed as he fired a mining laser at the wall, burning a hole through it and a person sitting on the other side. More self-loathing!
He heard them say, condescendingly, “Edthinnn!”, and he frowned, pouting a bit. He pulled the Vexor up and squeezed it a bit, sending waves of drones at them. They screamed his name as they fell, they drones burning away at their flesh. He stepped over them. He hated his self-loathing. It always tried to get him down! He turned the Hyperion on the fleeing self-loathing and gave it a squeeze. There were a lot of them. This looked like a barracks of self-loathing and bad thoughts. Best to clean it out!
Now why was he here, he thought to himself. Oh right! The big apple was here, and he had to get the big apple for his girlfriend, and then they could be married and live happily ever after, just like the books and the holoreels! He paused as he crushed a screaming self-loathing’s head with his titans bottom, frowning. But where was the big apple? Ohhh the witch had it. That was it. He had to find the witch and beat her somehow, and then he could take the big red apple and go home to Kathryn. And then everything would be ok.
He moved through the candy halls of his dreams, crushing, burning, breaking, and shooting the self-loathing’s and masters. The masters were mean, and had ships of their own, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by them. His suit of Titan armor protected him from their ships weapons. He really had to get him one of these Avatars sometime.
A whole group of masters were waiting in one hallway, and they had a Revelation! He wanted a Revelation. He frowned as they turned the revelation to point at him, shouting at each other. The master rarely shouted, but he did it a lot now, especially since there was so many of them. The revelation began to fire, and Ed doubled over as it struck his stomach. Oh no, his titan shields were down! And his armor was failing fast. He pulled a bantam from his belt and broke off the head piece before flinging it at the masters. There was a burst of sparkly bits and confetti and then the revelation stopped its firing.
He moved down the hall, avoiding stepping on any of the cake and presents and party favors, and looked at the door. “Apple Storage’ it said across the top. He smiled to himself as he moved in, then frowning as the door wouldn’t open. He rose up the titans mining laser and fired, a hole forming in the door. He pulled it open and saw the two witches; they were pointing at him and shouting. He knocked aside on the self-loathing’s who came at him from his right, shouting “Edthinnnn” at him, and then grabbed the other who came at him, picking him up and throwing him at the witch behind the desk. His body shredded before he got to her, the witch holding some sort of strange Matari ship in her hand. He brought up his Vexor and smiled, pulling the trigger and bathing the whole room in drones, delighted at the noise they made in atmosphere, like flames almost. Both witches screamed as they began to melt, and the stick holding up the apple began to buckle in on itself. He moved forward and plucked the apple from the stick, sticking his tongue out at the succubus witch as she writhed on the floor, her wings melting and her skin flaking off, and moved to go. He heard music begin to play over the speakers as he moved for the door, blasting aside another self loathing.
“All hands, incoming vessels, general quarters, pilots to ships.”
It wasn’t a tune he was familiar with, but he tried to whistle along.
- -
The Georgia began to slow, in a relative sense, as it approached the end of its warp tunnel. The sun became brighter and brighter until it was below them, and they were right on the edge of its corona, the temperature in the ship increasing noticeably. Jason sat up in his command chair and looked around, over at Chief Engineer Vic “Well..?”
“Yep, it’s there, one Amarrian Naval Issue Apocalypse, registered as Angel of Destiny…there is annuver, Sweet Delight, and they’re both lined up on the coordinates.” Vic looked at Jason “Communications is open.”
Jason cleared his throat a bit as he spoke up “This is Jason Wu of the Georgia, first mate of Captain Edthin. We’re on station and awaiting your signal ladyship…”
There was a brief pause and then an Amarrians woman’s voice “Right, we’re ready to go. My daughter is going to create a distraction. Bring your ship around and come near so we can spring the trap when ready.”
“Sweet Delight is warping sir.” Vic spoke up, and Jason nodded as the large Amarrian war vessel sped up and disappeared into the warp. The Georgia began to move, moving to five kilometers off the Naval Apocalypses port side. Jason could see the crew straining to get a view at it through the ports, and chuckled to himself “Be happy it’s not shooting at us boys….it’s a hell of a sight though”
“Is it true that she’s our captains girlfriend?” asked Vic, wandering over and peering at the ship from beside the command chair “Must be a woman of expensive tastes eh.”
“I suppose so…” the communications panel beeped and Vic hurried back to his console, tapping at it. The Amarrian woman spoke up “Hello? Hello are you there?”
“Ah, yes ladyship, we’re on standby.” Jason said quickly. It might be kowtowing but that was a navy apocalypse off the starboard side and she didn’t even have to aim to wipe them off the map.
“Ah, good, I’m warping in now; I suggest waiting just a minute before following. Good hunting.” And with that the Apocalypse warped into the darkness. The whole crew tensed up, and the ship became palpably more electrified, as they all waited. This was a big fight, one the Vexor wasn’t suited for, in all honesty, but this was the captain, and they would follow him through worse than this. Besides, having a pair of the biggest meanest battleships currently in service as backup was a good bolster for morale.
“Right. Bring us up to speed and prepare to warp.” He flicked on the inter system communications device and cleared his throat “all crew, standby for warp. Remember, this is for the captain, and we’re going in with some heavy backup. Do your jobs and we’ll come out of this fine. All marines report to the assault shuttle bay.”
Jason stood and moved towards the door “Commander Vic, you have the deck.”
“Where are you going?” Vic asked, scurrying over and looking nervous.
“I’m going in with the marines. Call it a sense of duty” Jason said as he moved into the elevator.
“I’d call it a sense of crazy, Jason” Vic murmured as the door closed, sitting down in the command chair.
They exited warp into the middle of a laser fight, the apocalypses tearing into the incoming waves of Blood Raider ships. Vic barked orders, deploying their drones and ordering the ship to burn at full speed towards the docking area of the blood raider citadel. Their drones flew forward, focusing on taking down the guns on board the station proper, rail guns on the ship focusing on any ships that tried to threaten them.
He saw a pair of engine housings begin to fade off into the docking area as the marine assault shuttles went to secure the landing pad. He sent a silent prayer with them.
- -
Jason adjusted his armor a bit again. He was a little nervous, and more than a bit peeved. His armor didn’t fit so well anymore. It was definitely a lot tighter about the waist then he felt it should be, all things considered, and he grumbled to himself in his head. The other marines were quiet, making final checks on their weapons and their own armor. Jason shifted his grip on his GAR-1 and looked at the ammo counter again to confirm it was in fact loaded. With a grim look he held on as the shuttle moved up and around into the docking area for smaller vessels, and heard the whirring of the hull mounted auto cannon. It would certainly clear out anybody waiting to get them as they disembarked. They clanged to the deck, and the marines formed up, getting ready to disembark, and sliding out as the doors slid open. They immediately moved out into cover, taking positions, very professionally, and picking off a few blood raiders who hadn’t had the smarts to run.
Jason was out last and moves behind cover with the marines commander, pulling out his data pad. He lifted it and looked at it, indicating the blinking dot “That’s the captain…he seems to be coming this way.” He frowned a bit “And…there’s a lot of blood raiders coming this way to…it’s almost like…”
The hangar doors slid open and a gaggle of blood raiders stumbled through. Some of them were on fire, or bleeding, and they were practically trampling over each other to get out of the way. The marines began to cut them down rather coolly “It’s like their fleeing” he finished, murmuring it to himself as he raised his rifles and fired a few half-assed shots down the range at the incoming raiders. They weren’t organized, they were panicking, and a few were on fire.
And then the captain came. He was a thing of blood and fire, and he seemed to be singing, in Amarrian, and the blood raiders couldn’t run from him fast enough. He cut them down wherever he saw them, using a flame thrower or a heavy machine gun, which he was holding one handed. Jason felt his jaw drop. All the marines had stopped firing. They didn’t need to.
The last of the raiders was cut down, and then the power armored figure stopped moving. The mid section had been rather badly damaged, but the captain didn’t seem to notice. He slumped forward a bit, and then tipped forward like some ancient tree on a planet that had finally given up. He hit the deck with a clang. There was a moment’s hesitation before Jason spoke up “Get him out of that armor and drag him up here!” he shouted.
The marines moved to do so, and a single large red crystal dropped from the power armor as they pulled the Gallentean from it. His face was covered by some sort of mask, part of it torn away. It looked like he was wearing a third of an Amarrians face. Jason shook his head and grabbed the crystal, figuring it was important, and ran back towards the assault shuttles. They boarded and sat down quickly, the captain down between their feet on the deck. Jason looked around as the ship shifted and they began to leave, clutching the ruby or whatever it was to his chest.
Outside, the last of the Blood Raider ships exploded as a beam from the Sweet Delight sliced through it. The assault shuttles moved to dock with the Vexor, which swung up and around the docking station to move in with the two apocalypses. All three bought themselves up to warp speed before disappearing into the darkness of space, the remnants of the Blood Raider citadel and it’s support fleet floating silently through space.
He spotted movement to his left and turned his head slightly, blinking away the fuzz seeming to cloud his visions. An Amarrian woman dressed in doctors’ robes. Good. And he wasn’t shackled, so apparently he wasn’t under arrest. He moved all his limbs carefully, getting a feel for his body, and smiled to himself as he slowly began to sit up, propping himself on his elbows. It wasn’t terrible, or blood spattered, as he would have suspected, just a well lit clinic rest area. He began to remove diodes from his body, and the Amarrian woman looked over in surprise, helping him
“Well, you’re finally awake Zachariah. Good to see. Though for how long…the commander is not happy about what happens and wants answers.” She said as she helped unhook him from the various pieces of equipment. She moved in and kissed him briefly “Good to have you back big boy…” She winked at him “Now stand up and walk around.”
Edthin looked at her, and then did so, gingerly at first. He had to walk with a slight hunch, since having a bullet pass through you can cause some serious back problems. He rubbed a shoulder “How long was I out?” he croaked.
“Another hunter picked you up a few minutes after the emergency signal got sent out…About ten hours.” The nurse said, handing him his pants. He changed swiftly, ignoring the hungry look “I’ll go report to the commander then…”
“There are guards waiting outside the door, of course.” The woman said, eying him “Try not to get killed.”
He smirked and nodded to her, before heading to the door. Outside were two guards, and he didn’t complain as the put him in shackles and prodded him none to gently. It saved him the problem of figuring out just where the place was.
He made a mental map as they walked through the station, noting a few points of interest. Occasionally they would pass a slave or a hub of people doing various things that would get them arrested in most empire space. He kept his face passive. They arrived before what he assumed was the commander’s door and he noted the inscription over the door. Cruor Vinculum. He almost smiled as he moved towards the doors and stepped through, stepping forward to the raised dais that held the commanders desk and control and command pad. He moved to his knees, prostrating himself. The commander was a cadaverous looking woman, eyes sunken, a crone by every definition. At her side was a younger, more fleshed out woman though still quite mature. She held a staff of office, and on top of that staff was a large, red crystal or gem. Edthin thanked whatever deity may or may not exist.
“Two crews worth of our people killed, with you as the only survivor, and what you have to say about it, pilot Zachariah.”
“It was a trap…I don’t know by whom…we lost contact with the ground teams and hunter one, and then whoever it was tried to board us ma’am…He managed to kill my communications officer before I killed him.” Edthin spoke, voice still a croak. It wasn’t entirely acting. They had apparently stuck something down his throat and it felt raw as all hell.
“His name was, and possibly still is, seeing as he was a capsuleer, Edthin Doe, a Gallentaen. We have no idea why he decided to set a trap for us…if it even was for us.” The commander pursed her lips as she moved around the desk, leaning against it “I suppose I can find no real fault on your part…you did your duty as best as your breeding allows for. I expect to see you at the next ceremony…” she picked up a crop from her desk and tapped her sharp chin with it.
“Yes your ladyship. I sing praises at your mercy.” Edthin said, best he could, as he began to crawl back towards the door.
“Do not be late, pilot” she said sternly, as Ed almost fled from the room.
- -
Edthin patched into the terminal of the pilot he had assumed the identity of. The system was laughable, even for him, and he quickly shot off a message before sitting back in his chair and smiling in the darkness. Soon he would be worthy, and he would be able to join with her.
- -
Edthin moved along the corridor with the other Raiders, towards the cathedral complex. He kept head down a bit as he moved along, watching his surroundings. Except for the blood motif the architecture was for all intents and purposes, Amarrian. As they filed into the main cathedral he had to snap his jaw shut suddenly, trying not to gape. He had never actually been in a cathedral before, so it was a shock. The walls were lined with carved metal that displayed stories sacred to the Blood Raiders. It was amazing, he wouldn’t kid himself. He sent his gaze over the cathedral as he moved to take a seat in what seemed to be the logical spot, next to the person who had been walking before and after him. One thing he was sure didn’t happen in the normal church was the river of blood flowing down the center aisle from a fountain covered in depictions of human figures enjoying each others bodies. Edthin had been trained in that sort of thing and he was almost positive some of those positions were physically impossible for human beings.
The head priestess, naked and bathed in blood, staff of office in one hand and cup in the other, lowered the chalice into the fountain and raised it up,
“Drink deep, brothers and sisters, and rejoice in our service to the true God!” and a number of chalices were passed around to the center aisle, who filled and sipped from the blood, passing them down the line. Edthin kept his face blank as he took the chalice in hand and raised it to his lips, teeth clicking as he drank from the blood. He closed his eyes at the sensation and felt his stomach try to lurch, passing the chalice onto the person next to him. He suddenly felt light headed, and things seemed to sharpen around him, the colors “popping”. He could hear moans from around the congregation as they began to fall into the ecstasy. He saw people being bought out through the haze descending on his mind, and saw the glint of knives.
Eventually his vision cleared, and he found himself in a room filled with weapons. He was covered in blood, and there was a dead man nearby, he too soaked in blood. Edthin dropped the knife and trembled as he moved over to corner, throwing up a bit and wiping his face. Everything felt so strange. Colors seemed to bleed together. There was a hollow roaring in his ears and the world began to spin. He was suddenly dreaming again. He knew he was dreaming because there he was lying on the floor, dead and bleeding. That was his self loathing. But he could hear more self loathing. He could hear their heart beats, thousands of them all around him. He gave a laugh as he picked up his datapad off the corpse and hit a few buttons, causing it to turn into chocolate. Chocolate gave him a headache. He dropped the chocolate and moved to the wall, running his hands over the glittering objects. There, a Vexor was in a rack, and there a Hyperion. He picked up a canister full of little hobgoblin drones and laughed as he set it into the Vexor, bringing the ship under his arm and squeezing around the bottom. Thousands of tiny drones flew out, attacking with vigor wherever they seemed to land, all over the glittering racks of ships. He paused as he saw a Amarrian titan.
“Wow!” he exclaimed, moving over. It was a suit! It took him a moment to open it up but he was soon inside, his head poking out just below the large umbrella top of the titan. A mask lowered over him and he made a noise as he moved “Wum wum wum, woosh” he said, giving a laugh. He moved to the doors, which melted before him, and picked up the Hyperion, cradling it under his arm. He picked up some of the candy crayon ammos strung in belts that seemed to go into it and clicked them into place, slinging the rest over his shoulder. Even the titan seemed to have realistic weapons. He laughed as he fired a mining laser at the wall, burning a hole through it and a person sitting on the other side. More self-loathing!
He heard them say, condescendingly, “Edthinnn!”, and he frowned, pouting a bit. He pulled the Vexor up and squeezed it a bit, sending waves of drones at them. They screamed his name as they fell, they drones burning away at their flesh. He stepped over them. He hated his self-loathing. It always tried to get him down! He turned the Hyperion on the fleeing self-loathing and gave it a squeeze. There were a lot of them. This looked like a barracks of self-loathing and bad thoughts. Best to clean it out!
Now why was he here, he thought to himself. Oh right! The big apple was here, and he had to get the big apple for his girlfriend, and then they could be married and live happily ever after, just like the books and the holoreels! He paused as he crushed a screaming self-loathing’s head with his titans bottom, frowning. But where was the big apple? Ohhh the witch had it. That was it. He had to find the witch and beat her somehow, and then he could take the big red apple and go home to Kathryn. And then everything would be ok.
He moved through the candy halls of his dreams, crushing, burning, breaking, and shooting the self-loathing’s and masters. The masters were mean, and had ships of their own, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by them. His suit of Titan armor protected him from their ships weapons. He really had to get him one of these Avatars sometime.
A whole group of masters were waiting in one hallway, and they had a Revelation! He wanted a Revelation. He frowned as they turned the revelation to point at him, shouting at each other. The master rarely shouted, but he did it a lot now, especially since there was so many of them. The revelation began to fire, and Ed doubled over as it struck his stomach. Oh no, his titan shields were down! And his armor was failing fast. He pulled a bantam from his belt and broke off the head piece before flinging it at the masters. There was a burst of sparkly bits and confetti and then the revelation stopped its firing.
He moved down the hall, avoiding stepping on any of the cake and presents and party favors, and looked at the door. “Apple Storage’ it said across the top. He smiled to himself as he moved in, then frowning as the door wouldn’t open. He rose up the titans mining laser and fired, a hole forming in the door. He pulled it open and saw the two witches; they were pointing at him and shouting. He knocked aside on the self-loathing’s who came at him from his right, shouting “Edthinnnn” at him, and then grabbed the other who came at him, picking him up and throwing him at the witch behind the desk. His body shredded before he got to her, the witch holding some sort of strange Matari ship in her hand. He brought up his Vexor and smiled, pulling the trigger and bathing the whole room in drones, delighted at the noise they made in atmosphere, like flames almost. Both witches screamed as they began to melt, and the stick holding up the apple began to buckle in on itself. He moved forward and plucked the apple from the stick, sticking his tongue out at the succubus witch as she writhed on the floor, her wings melting and her skin flaking off, and moved to go. He heard music begin to play over the speakers as he moved for the door, blasting aside another self loathing.
“All hands, incoming vessels, general quarters, pilots to ships.”
It wasn’t a tune he was familiar with, but he tried to whistle along.
- -
The Georgia began to slow, in a relative sense, as it approached the end of its warp tunnel. The sun became brighter and brighter until it was below them, and they were right on the edge of its corona, the temperature in the ship increasing noticeably. Jason sat up in his command chair and looked around, over at Chief Engineer Vic “Well..?”
“Yep, it’s there, one Amarrian Naval Issue Apocalypse, registered as Angel of Destiny…there is annuver, Sweet Delight, and they’re both lined up on the coordinates.” Vic looked at Jason “Communications is open.”
Jason cleared his throat a bit as he spoke up “This is Jason Wu of the Georgia, first mate of Captain Edthin. We’re on station and awaiting your signal ladyship…”
There was a brief pause and then an Amarrians woman’s voice “Right, we’re ready to go. My daughter is going to create a distraction. Bring your ship around and come near so we can spring the trap when ready.”
“Sweet Delight is warping sir.” Vic spoke up, and Jason nodded as the large Amarrian war vessel sped up and disappeared into the warp. The Georgia began to move, moving to five kilometers off the Naval Apocalypses port side. Jason could see the crew straining to get a view at it through the ports, and chuckled to himself “Be happy it’s not shooting at us boys….it’s a hell of a sight though”
“Is it true that she’s our captains girlfriend?” asked Vic, wandering over and peering at the ship from beside the command chair “Must be a woman of expensive tastes eh.”
“I suppose so…” the communications panel beeped and Vic hurried back to his console, tapping at it. The Amarrian woman spoke up “Hello? Hello are you there?”
“Ah, yes ladyship, we’re on standby.” Jason said quickly. It might be kowtowing but that was a navy apocalypse off the starboard side and she didn’t even have to aim to wipe them off the map.
“Ah, good, I’m warping in now; I suggest waiting just a minute before following. Good hunting.” And with that the Apocalypse warped into the darkness. The whole crew tensed up, and the ship became palpably more electrified, as they all waited. This was a big fight, one the Vexor wasn’t suited for, in all honesty, but this was the captain, and they would follow him through worse than this. Besides, having a pair of the biggest meanest battleships currently in service as backup was a good bolster for morale.
“Right. Bring us up to speed and prepare to warp.” He flicked on the inter system communications device and cleared his throat “all crew, standby for warp. Remember, this is for the captain, and we’re going in with some heavy backup. Do your jobs and we’ll come out of this fine. All marines report to the assault shuttle bay.”
Jason stood and moved towards the door “Commander Vic, you have the deck.”
“Where are you going?” Vic asked, scurrying over and looking nervous.
“I’m going in with the marines. Call it a sense of duty” Jason said as he moved into the elevator.
“I’d call it a sense of crazy, Jason” Vic murmured as the door closed, sitting down in the command chair.
They exited warp into the middle of a laser fight, the apocalypses tearing into the incoming waves of Blood Raider ships. Vic barked orders, deploying their drones and ordering the ship to burn at full speed towards the docking area of the blood raider citadel. Their drones flew forward, focusing on taking down the guns on board the station proper, rail guns on the ship focusing on any ships that tried to threaten them.
He saw a pair of engine housings begin to fade off into the docking area as the marine assault shuttles went to secure the landing pad. He sent a silent prayer with them.
- -
Jason adjusted his armor a bit again. He was a little nervous, and more than a bit peeved. His armor didn’t fit so well anymore. It was definitely a lot tighter about the waist then he felt it should be, all things considered, and he grumbled to himself in his head. The other marines were quiet, making final checks on their weapons and their own armor. Jason shifted his grip on his GAR-1 and looked at the ammo counter again to confirm it was in fact loaded. With a grim look he held on as the shuttle moved up and around into the docking area for smaller vessels, and heard the whirring of the hull mounted auto cannon. It would certainly clear out anybody waiting to get them as they disembarked. They clanged to the deck, and the marines formed up, getting ready to disembark, and sliding out as the doors slid open. They immediately moved out into cover, taking positions, very professionally, and picking off a few blood raiders who hadn’t had the smarts to run.
Jason was out last and moves behind cover with the marines commander, pulling out his data pad. He lifted it and looked at it, indicating the blinking dot “That’s the captain…he seems to be coming this way.” He frowned a bit “And…there’s a lot of blood raiders coming this way to…it’s almost like…”
The hangar doors slid open and a gaggle of blood raiders stumbled through. Some of them were on fire, or bleeding, and they were practically trampling over each other to get out of the way. The marines began to cut them down rather coolly “It’s like their fleeing” he finished, murmuring it to himself as he raised his rifles and fired a few half-assed shots down the range at the incoming raiders. They weren’t organized, they were panicking, and a few were on fire.
And then the captain came. He was a thing of blood and fire, and he seemed to be singing, in Amarrian, and the blood raiders couldn’t run from him fast enough. He cut them down wherever he saw them, using a flame thrower or a heavy machine gun, which he was holding one handed. Jason felt his jaw drop. All the marines had stopped firing. They didn’t need to.
The last of the raiders was cut down, and then the power armored figure stopped moving. The mid section had been rather badly damaged, but the captain didn’t seem to notice. He slumped forward a bit, and then tipped forward like some ancient tree on a planet that had finally given up. He hit the deck with a clang. There was a moment’s hesitation before Jason spoke up “Get him out of that armor and drag him up here!” he shouted.
The marines moved to do so, and a single large red crystal dropped from the power armor as they pulled the Gallentean from it. His face was covered by some sort of mask, part of it torn away. It looked like he was wearing a third of an Amarrians face. Jason shook his head and grabbed the crystal, figuring it was important, and ran back towards the assault shuttles. They boarded and sat down quickly, the captain down between their feet on the deck. Jason looked around as the ship shifted and they began to leave, clutching the ruby or whatever it was to his chest.
Outside, the last of the Blood Raider ships exploded as a beam from the Sweet Delight sliced through it. The assault shuttles moved to dock with the Vexor, which swung up and around the docking station to move in with the two apocalypses. All three bought themselves up to warp speed before disappearing into the darkness of space, the remnants of the Blood Raider citadel and it’s support fleet floating silently through space.
Proving His Worth Part 2
Posted by hopalong on August 11, 2009
The cargo ship drifted slowly through space. It was a Gallente miner, one of the smaller ones, a Navitas class hull. The rear end, where the engines were, was leaking plasma into space, the tail almost completely sheared from the front. A pair of slick frigates circled the ship like a pair of sharks, blood flecking their golden armor. Their scanners showed five life signatures aboard, one in a capsule. The frigate pilot turned and smiled at the passenger behind him “We’re lucky; A capsuleer!”
The passenger blinked and smiled, turning to a nearby council and adjusting a dial as he spoke into the receiver piece “Hunter Two, we have scans indicating a capsuleer on board. Check back and confirm?”
There was a pause. The speakers on both men's helmets beeped “We have the same scan, hunter one. Moving to establish a sealed connection at link station one. You take three.”
Both ships moved in towards the Navitas, from opposite sides. The Navitas, registered as the “Georgia” to a Jason Halls, slowed as the two Amarrian vessels activated their lower power docking beams to slow it down. A set of specially designed weapons on the frigates sides fired off, slamming into the armor plating of the Gallente ship. They both began to move in closer to a pair of ports lining up with their own, using the primitive winches and the docking beams together to pull themselves in. The hull clanged as the first ship attached, and it was followed by another clang that resounded through the Navitas to the other hunters’ hull. The pilot gave a thumb up and flicked a switch, letting the automatic systems attempt to overrun the ship security, his twin doing the same on the other side of the hapless ship. He flicked another key.
“Boarding teams, the cattle are all in the forward part of the ship, including the capsule. We bring back a prize tonight brothers and sisters! Standard deployment in ten.” Spoke the captain of the first hunter. He adjusted something on his control board and counted off in his head, before slapping the “open airlock” button. There was a hiss further down in the frigate as the sealed doors opened up into the Navitas and the team of three armed raiders moved in, guns at ready. They fanned out quietly, checking corners. The Navitas was large for a frigate but had a small crew, most of the internals being twisting and confusing corridors set around mining stations.
The pilot of the first hunter looked down with satisfaction, watching the life signs of the boarding team move through the stationary ship towards the life signs of the crew. They were still at their stations. He hrmmed a bit but dismissed it as a desperation tactic to send out a call for help and man the automated turrets, which the boarding teams were now running into. He didn’t look up as the communications officer behind him gave a sigh, instead plotting a course. He too sighed, before slumping back in his seat, a delicate looking poniard sticking out of the base of his skull. Edthin slid the weapon out of the man’s skull and leaned over him, touching a few keys before slipping back towards his ship, moving for a brief moment into the engine room before heading back into the Georgia. The boarding teams were tied up with the guns, and he could hear the distant weapons fire from both sides. As a rule blood raiders tended to prefer stun weapons over the killing variety. Something about the purity of the blood being effected by death if the victim was killed before being drained. In this case, it was hampering their ability to deal with the automated turrets, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. They were professional and had dealt with this all before, though the amount of firepower being put out by the turrets was far above normal fair. Just the sort of thing a capsuleer would be concerned with.
Edthin smiled to himself as he slipped through the ship towards the other ship, resisting the urge to whistle. He heard the pilot and the communications officer of the second hunter chatting idly, even from the Navitas side of the airlock, and frowned to himself. If one stopped talking the other would become suspicious and turn. He slipped his hand down his side as he moved through the airlock and pulled out a simple pistol with an attached silencer. He approached the door of the cabin, pulling back the loading mechanism and clicking off the safety. He paused, waited three seconds, then moved through the door. The ship was an exact copy of its twin, and the communications officer was sitting in his chair exactly where he should be. He fired a single round into the man’s head before rotating his aim and firing at the other pilot, putting a round through his throat. The pilot gurgled and moved to reach for his own weapon, the other hand grabbing at his own throat, trying to stem the blood flow. Edthin strode forward and slapped the pilots’ release, grabbing the man by the back of his flight suit and pulling him bodily over the rear of the seat. He threw him against the wall and set the pistol into the man’s belly, firing once. There was a ping as the bullet passed through the man and into the wall. He dropped the pistol suddenly and pulled out the poniard again, ignoring the man’s gurgling as he slid it up the blood raiders nose and pushed, hard. The man gave a ‘grrk” noise as it pierced up into his brain, and Edthin quickly withdrew the needle like weapon before releasing the man.
He moved fast now, going to the pilots’ controls and sitting down.
- -
Lloyd poked the remains of the automated turret and sighed a bit, shaking his head “Capsuleers spend so much damn money on systems that probably won’t help them anyway…proof that greatness is bred, not made.”
Carlini gave a chuckle and nodded, then moved back into combat stance, moving forward. She made a motion with her hand, indicating the first life sign was in a small work room to their right, and slid to the far side of the door where they keypad was. Lloyd moved forward and crouched down next to the door, the third member of their party, a Gallentean named Jean, took position behind him. Carlini counted off quietly and then slapped the door panel, Lloyd sweeping the room as he moved in. The ship crewman was seated facing a console, and Lloyd fired a stunshot at him, the tiny device latching to the man and releasing enough current to bring down a normal sized person. He twitched a bit but gave no other movement.
“It’s clear” he called as he moved to rotate the chair around. Edthin was seated in the chair, eyes dead and dull, though his chest moved in and out as he breathed. Drool was running out of the corner of his mouth, and Lloyd blinked as the airlock door slammed shut, taking Jeans leg at the knee with it, the rest of him in the corridor. The Gallente fell down screaming, pulling the trigger of his weapon, sending a burst off at nothing. Carlini spun, having just gotten through the door, and slammed the butt of her weapon into it. There was no keypad on this side. A clicking noise sounded out, and panels at the top of the room opened up, ten balls falling down and dangling on strings. Lloyd looked at them in confusion before he noticed that they were covered in thousands of tiny needles. His eyes went wide.
There was a scream and a crumpling sound of low powered explosives, and then silence, except for the sound of Jean slowly pulling him-self down the corridor, sobbing in pain and leaving a widening trail of blood behind him.
- -
On the other side of the ship, moving up a parallel corridor, Horace paused and tilted his head. He held up a hand and then turned on the microphone on his hat with a flick of his tongue “Team two, report.” He said quietly.
His frown deepened and he waved the two other raiders to defensive positions in the corridor. They looked at him in concern and then moved, covering their angles professionally. These were veterans who had served together for some time (in the relative idea of “some” in a job that usually got you killed within a month). Horace felt a faint surge of pride even as he clicked the communications device over to a different channel.
“Hunter One, come in, no response from team two. Hunter one?” he said, heart dropping. He looked at the other two and motioned for them to begin to move back the way they had come, and the three began to fan back down the corridor, quite a bit more alert now. He switched channels again “Hunter one, come in…hunter one?”
His earpiece crackled to life “Help…Me…” he heard Jean say “Trap…leg gone…others dead…” the voice was weak.
He scowled. Normally such sloppiness and failure were dealt with badly but, he needed to know what happened. His sense of honor, such as he had, demanded that. He moved through the corridors with his team, covering the angles, by the book, moving swiftly and professionally. He held up his hand as he saw Jean in the corridor, still pulling himself along. He had gotten about thirty feet, though he seemed to be weakening swiftly.
Chartine moved forward after a moment, kneeling down and checking the bleeding mans wounds. She looked up at Horace and shook her head “He wont last long…”
Horace breathed out angrily and moved forward, grabbing the dying man and turning him over “What the hell happened here newbie!?” He demanded. He managed to shout a whisper, a skill very useful to squad leaders.
“Trap…Down the hall…Follow blood…the others…dunno what happened…” gasped the Gallente, and then fell back as Horace released him. Chartine looked at him carefully, raising her weapon. Horace shook his head and they moved down the hall, leaving the Gallente to sob quietly as he died to the rhythm of his heart beat.
Chartine paused in front of the door where the blood trail started, and looked at Horace. He took up position on the other side of the door, and Chartine pressed the open button. Horace brought his gun up and around, pointing it into the room as he moved to sweep into it, and slipped on the blood and other mess on the inside. He yelped as he felt fire run up his back and scrambled out. The inside of the room was a carnal house of blood and bone and other putrid fluids that come with death.
Robert opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by his head exploding in a spray, and Cartine yelped in pain as a pellet from the scattergun hit her shoulder, causing her to spin. Horace bought up his rifle and opened fire down the hall past the falling body of his comrade as Cartine crawled for cover, ducking behind a service duct. Horace ducked in to the room where the remains of team two and one of the crewmen were, and listened to the silence. He heard the last of Roberts heart pumps from the blood squirt out of the neck of the man, and closed his eyes briefly. Whoever this was would pay, dearly. He would clone him and kill him again and again, he swore it. He ejected the clip from his rifle and inserted another, listening to the silence still. There was nothing but the hum of the ship and the distant warning alarms near the engine.
He turned his head as something moved in the room behind him, and had just enough time to curse as a bullet pierced his temple from a vent hidden beneath the desk.
- -
Chartine heard the shot and closed her eyes, praying. She was wounded and everyone else was dead. She picked up her rifle and peaked around the corner of the vent, blinking through the tears. They were being hunted. She was being hunted, since she was the only one left. She stood and sprinted as fast as she could down the hallway, moving from side to side and trying to keep sense of the hallways.
She was almost at the frigate when a simple piece of pipe swung from around a corner, smashing into her knee with a terrible crack. She screamed as she fell, trying to bring her gun upright. A boot smashed into her wrist, crushing it. She swooned from shock, gasping. She began to try and crawl away, sobbing, and then screamed again as whomever her attacker was fired the scattergun into the back of her good knee. She slumped forward, dull from shock. She felt the barrels of the weapon press against the back of her skull and then she felt nothing.
- -
Ed shoved the corpse of the pilot of the second hunter through the airlock, looking over the carefully arranged scene again. One of his clones, now dead with a double shot to the chest from the raider pilots pistol, was sprawled out on the ground, his own simple silenced weapon next to the body. He moved over to the communications officer, checking him over, and nodded a bit before looking at the wall where he had shot the pilot, and the chair. Two shots, then.
He sat with his back against the wall and picked up his discarded weapon, turning it on himself. He first placed it against his shoulder, and pulled the trigger, closing his eyes and gasping in pain. He dropped the weapon and swallowed, panting hard as he picked it up again and set it against his stomach. He carefully ran it over his stomach, and pulled the trigger again, yelling in pain. He tossed the gun off to the side, pale and shaking, and removed the metal plate from behind his back, now with two bullets lodged in it. He slowly pulled himself up, gasping with effort, and moved to the door, tossing it through into the other ship, holding his stomach with his free hand.
He crawled back over to the place he had shot himself and dragged himself, gasping in pain the whole time, to the pilots’ chair, where he sat down. He flicked on the emergency beacon and broke off from the Navitas, activating the explosives onboard it and the first hunter.
The Amarrian Blood Raider raised his microphone to his mouth, speaking weakly ‘Hunter Two…need…Help…” he gasped as he flicked on the emergency beacon, slumping back into unconsciousness.
The cargo ship drifted slowly through space. It was a Gallente miner, one of the smaller ones, a Navitas class hull. The rear end, where the engines were, was leaking plasma into space, the tail almost completely sheared from the front. A pair of slick frigates circled the ship like a pair of sharks, blood flecking their golden armor. Their scanners showed five life signatures aboard, one in a capsule. The frigate pilot turned and smiled at the passenger behind him “We’re lucky; A capsuleer!”
The passenger blinked and smiled, turning to a nearby council and adjusting a dial as he spoke into the receiver piece “Hunter Two, we have scans indicating a capsuleer on board. Check back and confirm?”
There was a pause. The speakers on both men's helmets beeped “We have the same scan, hunter one. Moving to establish a sealed connection at link station one. You take three.”
Both ships moved in towards the Navitas, from opposite sides. The Navitas, registered as the “Georgia” to a Jason Halls, slowed as the two Amarrian vessels activated their lower power docking beams to slow it down. A set of specially designed weapons on the frigates sides fired off, slamming into the armor plating of the Gallente ship. They both began to move in closer to a pair of ports lining up with their own, using the primitive winches and the docking beams together to pull themselves in. The hull clanged as the first ship attached, and it was followed by another clang that resounded through the Navitas to the other hunters’ hull. The pilot gave a thumb up and flicked a switch, letting the automatic systems attempt to overrun the ship security, his twin doing the same on the other side of the hapless ship. He flicked another key.
“Boarding teams, the cattle are all in the forward part of the ship, including the capsule. We bring back a prize tonight brothers and sisters! Standard deployment in ten.” Spoke the captain of the first hunter. He adjusted something on his control board and counted off in his head, before slapping the “open airlock” button. There was a hiss further down in the frigate as the sealed doors opened up into the Navitas and the team of three armed raiders moved in, guns at ready. They fanned out quietly, checking corners. The Navitas was large for a frigate but had a small crew, most of the internals being twisting and confusing corridors set around mining stations.
The pilot of the first hunter looked down with satisfaction, watching the life signs of the boarding team move through the stationary ship towards the life signs of the crew. They were still at their stations. He hrmmed a bit but dismissed it as a desperation tactic to send out a call for help and man the automated turrets, which the boarding teams were now running into. He didn’t look up as the communications officer behind him gave a sigh, instead plotting a course. He too sighed, before slumping back in his seat, a delicate looking poniard sticking out of the base of his skull. Edthin slid the weapon out of the man’s skull and leaned over him, touching a few keys before slipping back towards his ship, moving for a brief moment into the engine room before heading back into the Georgia. The boarding teams were tied up with the guns, and he could hear the distant weapons fire from both sides. As a rule blood raiders tended to prefer stun weapons over the killing variety. Something about the purity of the blood being effected by death if the victim was killed before being drained. In this case, it was hampering their ability to deal with the automated turrets, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. They were professional and had dealt with this all before, though the amount of firepower being put out by the turrets was far above normal fair. Just the sort of thing a capsuleer would be concerned with.
Edthin smiled to himself as he slipped through the ship towards the other ship, resisting the urge to whistle. He heard the pilot and the communications officer of the second hunter chatting idly, even from the Navitas side of the airlock, and frowned to himself. If one stopped talking the other would become suspicious and turn. He slipped his hand down his side as he moved through the airlock and pulled out a simple pistol with an attached silencer. He approached the door of the cabin, pulling back the loading mechanism and clicking off the safety. He paused, waited three seconds, then moved through the door. The ship was an exact copy of its twin, and the communications officer was sitting in his chair exactly where he should be. He fired a single round into the man’s head before rotating his aim and firing at the other pilot, putting a round through his throat. The pilot gurgled and moved to reach for his own weapon, the other hand grabbing at his own throat, trying to stem the blood flow. Edthin strode forward and slapped the pilots’ release, grabbing the man by the back of his flight suit and pulling him bodily over the rear of the seat. He threw him against the wall and set the pistol into the man’s belly, firing once. There was a ping as the bullet passed through the man and into the wall. He dropped the pistol suddenly and pulled out the poniard again, ignoring the man’s gurgling as he slid it up the blood raiders nose and pushed, hard. The man gave a ‘grrk” noise as it pierced up into his brain, and Edthin quickly withdrew the needle like weapon before releasing the man.
He moved fast now, going to the pilots’ controls and sitting down.
- -
Lloyd poked the remains of the automated turret and sighed a bit, shaking his head “Capsuleers spend so much damn money on systems that probably won’t help them anyway…proof that greatness is bred, not made.”
Carlini gave a chuckle and nodded, then moved back into combat stance, moving forward. She made a motion with her hand, indicating the first life sign was in a small work room to their right, and slid to the far side of the door where they keypad was. Lloyd moved forward and crouched down next to the door, the third member of their party, a Gallentean named Jean, took position behind him. Carlini counted off quietly and then slapped the door panel, Lloyd sweeping the room as he moved in. The ship crewman was seated facing a console, and Lloyd fired a stunshot at him, the tiny device latching to the man and releasing enough current to bring down a normal sized person. He twitched a bit but gave no other movement.
“It’s clear” he called as he moved to rotate the chair around. Edthin was seated in the chair, eyes dead and dull, though his chest moved in and out as he breathed. Drool was running out of the corner of his mouth, and Lloyd blinked as the airlock door slammed shut, taking Jeans leg at the knee with it, the rest of him in the corridor. The Gallente fell down screaming, pulling the trigger of his weapon, sending a burst off at nothing. Carlini spun, having just gotten through the door, and slammed the butt of her weapon into it. There was no keypad on this side. A clicking noise sounded out, and panels at the top of the room opened up, ten balls falling down and dangling on strings. Lloyd looked at them in confusion before he noticed that they were covered in thousands of tiny needles. His eyes went wide.
There was a scream and a crumpling sound of low powered explosives, and then silence, except for the sound of Jean slowly pulling him-self down the corridor, sobbing in pain and leaving a widening trail of blood behind him.
- -
On the other side of the ship, moving up a parallel corridor, Horace paused and tilted his head. He held up a hand and then turned on the microphone on his hat with a flick of his tongue “Team two, report.” He said quietly.
His frown deepened and he waved the two other raiders to defensive positions in the corridor. They looked at him in concern and then moved, covering their angles professionally. These were veterans who had served together for some time (in the relative idea of “some” in a job that usually got you killed within a month). Horace felt a faint surge of pride even as he clicked the communications device over to a different channel.
“Hunter One, come in, no response from team two. Hunter one?” he said, heart dropping. He looked at the other two and motioned for them to begin to move back the way they had come, and the three began to fan back down the corridor, quite a bit more alert now. He switched channels again “Hunter one, come in…hunter one?”
His earpiece crackled to life “Help…Me…” he heard Jean say “Trap…leg gone…others dead…” the voice was weak.
He scowled. Normally such sloppiness and failure were dealt with badly but, he needed to know what happened. His sense of honor, such as he had, demanded that. He moved through the corridors with his team, covering the angles, by the book, moving swiftly and professionally. He held up his hand as he saw Jean in the corridor, still pulling himself along. He had gotten about thirty feet, though he seemed to be weakening swiftly.
Chartine moved forward after a moment, kneeling down and checking the bleeding mans wounds. She looked up at Horace and shook her head “He wont last long…”
Horace breathed out angrily and moved forward, grabbing the dying man and turning him over “What the hell happened here newbie!?” He demanded. He managed to shout a whisper, a skill very useful to squad leaders.
“Trap…Down the hall…Follow blood…the others…dunno what happened…” gasped the Gallente, and then fell back as Horace released him. Chartine looked at him carefully, raising her weapon. Horace shook his head and they moved down the hall, leaving the Gallente to sob quietly as he died to the rhythm of his heart beat.
Chartine paused in front of the door where the blood trail started, and looked at Horace. He took up position on the other side of the door, and Chartine pressed the open button. Horace brought his gun up and around, pointing it into the room as he moved to sweep into it, and slipped on the blood and other mess on the inside. He yelped as he felt fire run up his back and scrambled out. The inside of the room was a carnal house of blood and bone and other putrid fluids that come with death.
Robert opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by his head exploding in a spray, and Cartine yelped in pain as a pellet from the scattergun hit her shoulder, causing her to spin. Horace bought up his rifle and opened fire down the hall past the falling body of his comrade as Cartine crawled for cover, ducking behind a service duct. Horace ducked in to the room where the remains of team two and one of the crewmen were, and listened to the silence. He heard the last of Roberts heart pumps from the blood squirt out of the neck of the man, and closed his eyes briefly. Whoever this was would pay, dearly. He would clone him and kill him again and again, he swore it. He ejected the clip from his rifle and inserted another, listening to the silence still. There was nothing but the hum of the ship and the distant warning alarms near the engine.
He turned his head as something moved in the room behind him, and had just enough time to curse as a bullet pierced his temple from a vent hidden beneath the desk.
- -
Chartine heard the shot and closed her eyes, praying. She was wounded and everyone else was dead. She picked up her rifle and peaked around the corner of the vent, blinking through the tears. They were being hunted. She was being hunted, since she was the only one left. She stood and sprinted as fast as she could down the hallway, moving from side to side and trying to keep sense of the hallways.
She was almost at the frigate when a simple piece of pipe swung from around a corner, smashing into her knee with a terrible crack. She screamed as she fell, trying to bring her gun upright. A boot smashed into her wrist, crushing it. She swooned from shock, gasping. She began to try and crawl away, sobbing, and then screamed again as whomever her attacker was fired the scattergun into the back of her good knee. She slumped forward, dull from shock. She felt the barrels of the weapon press against the back of her skull and then she felt nothing.
- -
Ed shoved the corpse of the pilot of the second hunter through the airlock, looking over the carefully arranged scene again. One of his clones, now dead with a double shot to the chest from the raider pilots pistol, was sprawled out on the ground, his own simple silenced weapon next to the body. He moved over to the communications officer, checking him over, and nodded a bit before looking at the wall where he had shot the pilot, and the chair. Two shots, then.
He sat with his back against the wall and picked up his discarded weapon, turning it on himself. He first placed it against his shoulder, and pulled the trigger, closing his eyes and gasping in pain. He dropped the weapon and swallowed, panting hard as he picked it up again and set it against his stomach. He carefully ran it over his stomach, and pulled the trigger again, yelling in pain. He tossed the gun off to the side, pale and shaking, and removed the metal plate from behind his back, now with two bullets lodged in it. He slowly pulled himself up, gasping with effort, and moved to the door, tossing it through into the other ship, holding his stomach with his free hand.
He crawled back over to the place he had shot himself and dragged himself, gasping in pain the whole time, to the pilots’ chair, where he sat down. He flicked on the emergency beacon and broke off from the Navitas, activating the explosives onboard it and the first hunter.
The Amarrian Blood Raider raised his microphone to his mouth, speaking weakly ‘Hunter Two…need…Help…” he gasped as he flicked on the emergency beacon, slumping back into unconsciousness.
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