Relayhttps://relay.sc/feed/fiction/atom2017-04-25T02:56:03+00:00https://relay.sc/fiction/fawkesFawkes2017-04-12T22:12:29+00:002017-04-12T22:12:29+00:00Errishttps://relay.sc/contributor/Erris I can see it already, see the news casters explaining in their school-grade English and fake smiles that ‘Spartacus is back, with his first blog post in six months’. I can hear the fake excitement, can see the drab backgrounds and cheap suits.
As I write this, I know what people will think.
The second they hear that I’ve made another post, they’ll flood to the Spectrum, expecting to hear tales of gallantry, of daredevil antics. Tales of heroism, bravery, and unabashed awesomeness.
They’ll expect some vids of me, swooping the Hershaw in and out of enemy fire, twin badger repeaters turning Cutlass’, Hornets, Gladii to slag, the gleam of their shattered hulls a dull red, superheated metal twinkling in the void of space.
But that’s not what you get. Not today anyway.
Today you, my dear reader, you and every other of the 1.5 billion readers of this blog are in for a treat; for something truly special.
Today I’m going to talk about taxes.
I’m sure the rest of you are having problems as well. I’m here to tell you that you’re not alone. I have problems too. So does Edwin Charles, whose new film ‘Glory Hornets’ is fantastic, by the way. Go see it.
He’s got problems too this tax season. And he and I aren’t alone, either.
Maxine Waters, three-time winner of TTC – Terra’s Turtle Cup – you wouldn’t believe the problems she’s having this year, with her fleet of MISC Razer’s.
What it all comes down to is Fawkes. I know, dirty word, I apologize.
The UEE’s Fawkes system is a joke. A complete, total, utter, miserable joke. It doesn’t work. At all.
Hell, here I am with only three ships – the Hershaw, the Nebuchadnezzar, and the Bowie, and the bloody Fawkes system is taxing me as if I had 13.
And somehow they’ve listed them too.
Here, here’s their listing. You all know my ships. Let’s see if you can spot the errors in this list.
MISC Gladius – What? How do they even… RSI Aurora – Do people even still own these?Anvil Hornet Ghost – Yeah, sorry Fawkes, I’m not that much of a loser.MISC Prospector – No, though one might not be a terrible idea…Drake Buccaneer – There’s the Nebu at least.MISC Gladius – Again? Really Fawkes?RSI Constellation Phoenix – There’s the Bowie at least…MISC Freelancer MIS – No. Just no.Drake Cutlass Blue – Ha. As if. MISC Gladius - … I’m speechless.Consolidated Outland Mustang Beta – Sadly, I do not own a Bangin’ Wagon.MISC Gladius – Fawkes…MISC Gladius - *Facepalm*Anyone notice something missing?
Yeah. They didn’t even include my freaking Hershaw.
And seriously, let’s take a little aside here, but MISC Gladius? Who even coded this system? How do you… I… I am speechless. Literally speechless.
And do you know how much they expect me to pay in taxes for my ships? 33,000 credits.
Thirty. Three. Thousand.
It should be downright illegal.
But can we fight back against it? No. Call the ‘support line’ all you get are automated response. It’s literally impossible to talk to a real person.
And sure, I’ve got the money to pay for an Accountant to properly file forms XP23-C, and to fill out and file form XD42-A through CU.
But not everyone does.
So I’m using my pulpit. And I’m calling you out, UEE. Fawkes is a joke.
Get rid of it. Trash it. Start with something new, something better.
It’s the right thing to do. https://relay.sc/fiction/tic-talk-tonight-theodore-felix-graftonTic-Talk Tonight: Theodore Felix-Grafton2017-03-29T17:00:00+00:002017-03-29T05:26:49+00:00StormyWintershttps://relay.sc/contributor/StormyWinters Welcome to the newest edition of Tic-Talk, the transcript that follows is the full interview as conducted by Indira Nooyi with our guest interviewee, Theodore Felix-Grafton, local farmer from Goss I and former captain of the Nightingale. Interview was carried out on the planet Goss I on 2947-03-28.
Indira Nooyi(IN): Good evening and welcome to another edition of Tic-Talk, for our traditional viewing audience this will be a bit of a departure from normal as this interview will be pre-recorded for the convenience of our current guest of tonight’s segment. Today I’m on the planet Goss I touring the farming operation of Theodore Felix-Grafton. Thank you for inviting us to your home, we really appreciate the chance to interview you today.
Theodore Felix-Grafton(TFG): Well miss, the pleasure is all mine. Not every day a pretty young reporter visits this old man.
IN: Well, we are here to highlight your unique story Mr. Felix-Grafton...
TFG: No, no miss. Ted. Call me Ted.
IN: Very well, Ted. Now your name came to our attention in a very indirect way, the producer of Tic-Talk heard about you from a neighbour of hers who told her a very interesting, wild story. Her neighbour maintains that you saved her life 22 years ago, from the Orion system. The thing that very much intrigued us at Tic-Talk tonight about this story was that, nobody has heard of this or even known about it until this very moment. I would have to say my very first question would be how do you think this managed to stay under the radar for so long? Cause you rescued how many people, Ted?
TFG: Well, what I was doing wasn’t precisely sanctioned by the UEE. I was doing it to help people but I wasn’t sure how it would be received by the higher ups, so I asked those I saved to keep it a bit quiet. You know, not a secret to their friends and family but I asked them not to tell the media and such. My crew and I saved 47 people. Took some hits on our way out too… you can see some of the burns on Nightingale’s hull… like that one there.
IN: So, these biodome pods you’re showing me now, once was the ship that took you to Orion system to save these 47 people?
TFG: Interestingly, no. I couldn’t go in to Orion for this mission with biodome pods strapped to Nightingale… that just wouldn’t do. So Indira... may I call you Indira?
IN: Of course, please do.
TFG: So Indira, I called upon my dear friend Jack O’Leary who ran a Hope-class Endeavor named Mercy. He lent me his medical and landing bays for this mission. Interestingly these biodome pods have been here since then… I decided to bring Nightingale down here instead of bringing the farm pods back up… in the end. The rest of the buildings you see here are actually her, my ship. Still protecting me.
IN: Still living on, I’m sure she’s a comfort to you. I’m curious to know though why you decided to more or less invade the Orion system, risk discovery and possible death from the Vanduul, to rescue these people. Were they family? Friends? Was there a personal aspect that motivated you to do it?
TFG: An old Genesis pilot I met in a freezing shithole of a bar in Oberon… I think the planet is Uriel? Anyway, he mentioned that he had heard from a reliable source that there were still folk stuck in Orion. Indira… two centuries of scraping together a life under constant threat of attack at any moment from the fucking Vanduul. Once I heard about those poor people I had to do something. But I’m not a fool. I checked with every source I could find and it seemed like the rumours had merit… that those people were actually there. I thought I could help. Might’ve died trying, but what good is this ‘verse without people willing to help those who need it?
IN: Very brave venture you undertook. Many of those families have been hiding or existing in Orion for generations now, the progeny of the original groups the UEE left behind when they vacated the system long ago. How did you know they wanted to be rescued or more to the point how did you get in touch with them to let them know you were coming? It otherwise might have been difficult to organize such a rescue.
TFG: That’s the thing Indira, I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk the whole thing by broadcasting wide. I thought long and hard about it. If you were living in a place where you could die at any moment, even if it was home, wouldn’t you consider leaving so you and your family could be safe?
IN: I would think so, but many of those families have grown accustomed to living stealthily. So, the 47 you rescued I would assume are the people you managed to either persuade to come with you or came of their own volition. Did you meet any Vanduul resistance either entering or leaving the system?
TFG: Yeah… I was younger and a bit brash. I was going to Armitage to save people. If I had actually made it there I probably would have got everyone killed.
As it turned out, during our pass by the main asteroid belt in Orion we got the luckiest and faintest hit on our sensors. We were a mite jumpy so at first we were sure it was the Vanduul come to tear us apart, but it became obvious after a few moments that it wasn’t anything of the sort. Turns out that a group of survivors from long ago had hidden out in the asteroid belt and eventually constructed a small space station out of several damaged ships and whatever scrap they could find. They had done a good job shielding it from scanners but the rickety thing was malfunctioning at that moment.
IN: Sounds like a good bit of luck followed you into the Orion system. So, when you discovered the ‘space station’ did you manage to communicate with them or did you just send someone over to investigate?
TFG: Still concerned about transmissions, I decided to just dispatch the ambulances from our bays to make contact.
IN: And in doing so you found 47 survivors, and from what I’m hearing you arrived just at the right time before their current habitat started to fall into further disrepair. Once you managed to dock with the station, you were able to evacuate the station and escape the system unscathed then?
TFG: The folks were happy to see us. A bit wary, you understand, but once they knew fellow humans had come to help they were thrilled. They all came back with us. At that point the ship was getting very cozy… we had a total of 63 aboard. That was enough and from their tales it sounded like Armitage was a fool’s errand.
Nightingale headed back for the jump point to Caliban but part way there we got the attention of a Vanduul patrol. They gave us a few scars for our efforts, though we ultimately were able to hold them off long enough to get through the jump. Caliban is no picnic either but thankfully we got through to Oberon unscathed.
IN: Sounds like quite the adventure, Ted and I’m sure those 47 were unendingly grateful to you. I have one final question for you, after all that… what possessed you to give up a spacefaring life for that of a humble Goss farmer?
TFG: They were grateful. They were. I was too though. It was the most exciting, nerve-wracking, and meaningful event of my life. That event grew some of my most cherished friendships. I still keep in contact with many of those folks. Interestingly, I actually married one of the survivors. Her name is Florence.
Honestly after that I just felt that my adventuring days were over. It was time to come home, settle down, and do some work on the ground for once. For me at least, when it came down to it, I felt better to belong to a place. We’ve built a good life here, a nice place, don’t you think?
IN: Indeed, it’s a very idyllic place to settle down and your story was not only inspiring but also shows that humanity can still do good things. Thank you for your time, Ted. I’m Indira Nooyi and this has been another edition of Tic-Talk, thanks for joining us and see you next week. https://relay.sc/fiction/tic-talk-tonight-lonnie-grantTic-Talk Tonight: Lonnie Grant 2017-03-15T18:00:00+00:002017-03-15T05:05:40+00:00StormyWintershttps://relay.sc/contributor/StormyWinters Welcome to the newest edition of Tic-Talk, the transcript that follows is the full interview as conducted by Indira Nooyi with our guest interviewee, Lonnie Grant, captain of the Voyager. Interview was carried out on the planet Cascom in the Castra system on 2947-03-12.
Indira Nooyi(IN): Good evening and welcome to another edition of Tic-Talk, I’m your host for the evening Indira Nooyi and with me tonight is the captain and pilot of a Freelancer DUR named Voyager. Thank you for joining me tonight, Mr. Grant.
Lonnie Grant (LG): Thank you for having me on Indira. I love your show.
IN: Thank you. Now Mr. Grant, you just recently discovered a new jump point, would you please tell our viewing audience a little bit about how you came to discover it.
LG: Well you see Indira… it wasn’t really the most clever way to discover a jump point. It occurred to me that for the size of the system, Castra has an inordinate number of jump points… I think there were 5. It occurred to me that this concentration might be significant so I started scouring the outer rim of the system with my scanners. After a few days I got a hit on my jump scanners.
IN: And upon closer investigation you found this new jump point, correct?
LG: Yeah… it took me awhile to triangulate it but eventually I got close enough and she just opened up in front of me. They’re a beautiful sight, jump points. They’re all different… have their own character.
IN: Did you immediately travel through it following discovery?
LG: It’s always a nervous thing, you know? Plenty of explorers have vanished forever after attempting a new jump point. I guess that’s a long way of saying that I took some time... Wrote out messages for my family and friends and left them in a buoy before I ventured inside.
IN: And what did you find on the other side?
LG: Well first of all, this particular jump was pleasantly simple to navigate. Some of them can be really nasty. Either way, on the far side I discovered a red dwarf star with 4 major worlds orbiting, along with many other smaller worlds of course.
IN: A brand new system then?
LG: Yes! This is a fresh jump.
IN: So, with that being said this opens up several possibilities to you. What do you see yourself doing with the jump point coordinates? Are you considering selling them to the military or off to a scientific research facility maybe?
LG: My plan is to sell the coordinates to the UEE’s exploration and colonization division, and then return to the system to continue my work exploring the worlds it holds. There’s a lot to learn!
IN: That would make you a very rich man, Mr. Grant. Why continue to work and explore when you could retire and live the rest of your life in ease and comfort?
LG: Honestly for most explorers… there’s a drive to keep pushing the edge of our knowledge and it doesn’t go away with a full bank account. I will always be most at home on the fringes, searching for the next horizon. Might have to update some of my equipment though!
IN: Indeed and you will have the funds to do it. With this being a new system, I know that there is always a push to find new habitable worlds for humanity to colonize. Does this new system have anything that sets it apart from the rest?
LG: So this is kind of interesting… This is a tiny star so the worlds orbit close. One appears too close, probably too hot. The furthest planet seems outside the habitable zone… although perhaps some extremophiles could live there. Once again though this is the long way of saying that the middle two planets appear habitable. One is about the size of Earth and has large oceans covering about 80% of its surface. The other one is smaller, about the size of Mars, and has limited water - maybe 20% ocean - but appears to support abundant life regardless. I haven’t taken any detailed scans yet… the new equipment would be right up that alley - help me get better quality scans.
IN: So, at least two habitable worlds, your find might be more valuable then you consider it to be. If people were to move there today, what would they be calling this system? Do you plan to name it or leave that up to the scientists?
LG: Well Indira, you have to understand that it is rare in an explorer’s career that they find anything of really major value. Comets, lucrative asteroids, small black holes… these are common place and enough to keep you going but new star systems are really the dream. I have thought of a name and I will be submitting it, with your approval. I do love your show, so I was going to name the system Indira.
IN: Wow, I don’t know what to say, Mr. Grant. I’m very flattered. I only hope that whatever name you choose does the system justice. Sounds like you’ve found yourself a small little paradise. I sincerely wish you luck on your next adventure and again thank you for joining me tonight and sharing your story. Maybe it will inspire the next generation of explorers to go out there and find their own jump point. I’m Indira Nooyi and this has been another edition of Tic-Talk, thanks for joining us and see you next week. https://relay.sc/fiction/leirLeir2017-03-01T18:00:00+00:002017-03-01T18:15:04+00:00Nehkarahttps://relay.sc/contributor/Nehkara ‘I’m not sure how he managed to do it. How did he convince me? Brian can be such a pain. Now I’m down here getting shot at over some stupid crystals.’
Just a sample of the thoughts running around inside Dan Locke’s mind as his MISC Prospector “Erebus” worked away on collecting shards from the glacier blue crystal formations.
An audible warning accompanied by a pale flashing yellow light on the control panel indicates that one of mining storage pods has been filled. Leaving the Erebus in automatic mode, Dan climbs out of his seat and dons his old beaten up armour. He pats his ever-present Arclight pistol on his hip and climbs out of the ship.
Dan digs out an un-expanded empty storage pod, and then proceeds to detach and secure the full pod. A small crane helps him lower the heavy storage container down to the ground. During this entire exercise, Dan continually checks over his shoulder for any… visitors.
Finally, after securing the empty mining pod to the Erebus, Dan begins climbing back into his ship when a flurry of laser bolts slam into the rocks, shrubs, and ground around him.
Looking up, Dan gazes upon a trio of Dragonflies flown by… those who would rather he was not on Leir III. The Outsiders, Sand Nomads, Sand People - call them what you will.
Returning fire, the Prospector pilot takes cover in the entrance to his ship. Crouching there in the doorway, Dan had just enough time to mutter, “Brian… you ass. This is your fault.”
Dan closely watches the three Dragonflies, keeping track of their movements despite the incoming fire. It’s obvious they are surrounding him.
Thankfully one of the nomads comes a little too close and a flurry of shots from Dan’s Arclight tear through him to even the odds slightly.
Less thankfully... one of the remaining Dragonflies has positioned itself perfectly and opens up a torrent of fire on the Prospector entry. Dan tucks himself tightly inside the door and ponders his predicament.
Surely the other Dragonfly pilot would be attempting to steal the resources he worked so hard to extract.
Mid way through Dan formulating a plan of action, a faint rumbling can be heard… growing louder. Dan’s face sprouts a satisfied smile.
Suddenly the stream of weapons fire engulfing the Erebus doorway ceases and the sounds of the Dragonfly in question turning to flee can be clearly picked out.
Suddenly, the distinct sound of a larger ship’s laser cannon rings out. Peering out the door, Dan watches as Brian’s trusty Hull B - the “Knarr” - mows down the fleeing Dragonfly with its twin laser cannons.
The Knarr now spins with surprising agility and lights up the other Dragonfly which had just begun its attempt at strategic retreat.
Moments later, the Knarr sets down nearby the Erebus.
Dan, huge smile on his face, strides towards the newly arrived cargo ship. Brian meets him at the bottom of the ramp and wraps his best friend up in a brief but genuine hug.
“Dan! How are you making out?”
Dan continues to wear his grin as he punches Brian solidly in the shoulder, “I’m alright. Thanks to you. Though… I was in this mess because of you. So thanks for at least holding up your end.”
Brian’s smile matches his friend’s, “Yeah I know this place can be a bit of a hot zone but those crystals will bring in some good credits! Should be great for jewelry or holograms.”
“Always about the credits eh? No matter the risks.”
“Well, sometimes you have to take the risk.”
“Fair enough. Now… enough of this rambling. Let’s load up the Knarr and get both of us out of here before their friends come looking for them!”
The pair work diligently to load the full Prospector mining pods from Erebus onto the Hull B framework, breaking briefly a couple times to tell jokes and pass along news.
Now ready to depart their separate ways for the moment, the two friends embrace once more. “Dan, don’t be a stranger. I’ll front you 20,000 credits now and I’ll send you the rest of your cut once I have it all sold. Thanks for joining me in this.”
“Don’t mention it Brian… things got a little hairier than I would have liked, but you came through in the end in that department. Let me know how the sales go and have a safe trip!”
“Will do! Let me know the next time you need an assist from ol’ Knarr here.”
Several minutes later the pair of MISC ships ease off the ground and slowly head away from Leir III and on to new destinations with new opportunities. https://relay.sc/fiction/tic-talk-tonight-elias-portwinTic-Talk Tonight: Elias Portwin2017-02-15T17:00:00+00:002017-02-15T17:50:16+00:00StormyWintershttps://relay.sc/contributor/StormyWinters Welcome to the newest edition of Tic-Talk, the transcript that follows is the full interview as conducted by Indira Nooyi with our guest interviewee, Elias Portwin, captain and operator of the Bolide. Interview was carried out at the Central Advocacy Detention Centre in the Ferron system on February 14, 2947.
Indira Nooyi(IN): Good evening and welcome to another edition of Tic-Talk, I’m your host for the evening Indira Nooyi and with me tonight I have the captain and operator of the mining ship, the Bolide. Thank you for granting us this interview, Mr. Portwin.
Elias Portwin(EP): Uh… It’s my pleasure ma’am. It’s just good to be able to tell my side, you know?
IN: Indeed and we are looking forward to giving you the opportunity to tell your side. Now… Mr. Portwin, please tell us a bit about yourself. Where are you from? How did you become a miner? A few personal details of that nature.
EP: I’m from Tram, on Asura, here in Ferron. Things are tough there… but there’s still a lot of mining know how to go around. My family were some of the lucky ones, still have a bit of money. My parents made a living off of refurbishing and selling used mining equipment. I worked with my folks until I had enough credits for my beautiful Bolide.
IN: Thank you. For those folks unfamiliar with the events that have brought you here tonight. Could you in your own words give our viewing audience a little backstory on what happened?
EP: Well, ya see, I’d had a few run-ins with the Chomper crew. They were always tailin’ me, because I actually know how to find the veins. They’re a gang of talentless thieves, they are.
Anyhow, I had uncovered this beauty cluster of platinum asteroids here in Ferron and I was ‘bout to start up my drillin’ when along came the fuckin’... wait, can I swear?
IN: Well, this is a live feed and would prefer if you kept it to a general tone in terms of language, please continue. You mentioned a vein of platinum...
EP: Yeah… yeah. I’d found some nice platinum asteroids out on the ragged edges of Ferron. Along came Chomper to try to push me out. Ya see, Orions have weapons. Not much a little Prospector like Bolide can do to defend a claim. I sure don’t have the credits to hire mercs.
I had had enough, ya know? It’s hard enough gettin’ by out there in the black all by your lonesome without a monstrosity like that breathin’ down your neck. So I decided to do something about it.
IN: I see, but Ferron is a system open to trades like miners such as yourself to scout and claim these precious resources. So the Chomper, Orion mining vessel, had equal opportunity and rights to chase the same veins of resources you yourself were. I guess my question would then be, did you consider what it would mean for yourself if you decided to take the situation into your own hands?
EP: With all due respect Ms. Nooyi, I don’t think you know what it’s like out there. Code among miners is that if you discover a claim and are actively mining, that’s yours. Full stop. They just waltzed in there throwing their weight around… like they always do. Did I consider what it would mean when I ruffled their feathers? Honestly, not really ma’am. I was angry and fed up.
IN: Such rash action has in turn brought you into Advocacy custody waiting to hear whether or not charges are going to be laid against you or more than likely what charges will be brought forward. So in your eyes, was it worth it in the end?
EP: You don’t pull your punches, do ya miss? I… well, you know, at the time it was pretty rewarding to finally get a chance to stand up for myself. But I know it was wrong. And was it worth it, really? No… not in the end.
IN: Just for the record, do you know of or are you acquaintances with the Chomper’s captain? I know in some of these industries you run across the same people from time to time. It wouldn't take much to build a small personal grudge if one was rubbed the wrong way on a prior occasion.
EP: Yeah, I know him. As I said, we’ve had some run-ins. He’s always on me because I’m good… makes the life of his crew easy to use me as a dowsing rod. We’ve had words… many times. I was tired of bein’ used.
IN: It would then not be much of a stretch to say that this was more or less a simmering pot ready to boil over. I can understand how frustrating this whole situation could have been for you and in the end I think you can probably count yourself lucky no lives were lost during this incident.
Now that we heard your version of events in your own words, I would like to just get some clarification on how things unfolded. To my knowledge, it was stated that you maneuvered an asteroid into the Chomper which then caused significant damage. Could you please elaborate for me not only how you managed that but what gave you the idea in the first place?
EP: Yes ma’am. Well, you see… I love the Bolide but she comes equipped with just the one set of small guns up front. Not much protection and completely useless to actually attack anything. So I had to come up with somethin’ more… improvised.
I discovered awhile back that if you pour energy into your front shields and are very gentle with the initial contact, you can actually push asteroids with the Bolide. I settled her nose into an impact crater on an asteroid about half the size of the Orion. I poured my power into shields, engines, and a bit into the tractor to keep the rock tight to the shields… and I pushed it right into Chomper. Those Orions are like freakin’ space whales. They can’t move worth sh… uh… worth anything.
It smashed right into them, wrecked their engines before they could do anything about it. I knew I want you to know… I knew it wouldn’t destroy them. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to push back a bit… stand up for myself.
IN: Since you’ve now had a chance to tell your side of the story, what was your reasoning for accepting this interview? Aren’t you concerned the information you gave today can be used to incriminate you?
EP: Ms. Nooyi, I haven’t hidden anything. The sensor data from Chomper, the sensor data from Bolide. It’s clear what happened. I’m not going to avoid punishment. I hope that the judge in my case will take into account the history involved but there’s no need to try and twist the truth. I’m glad no one was hurt. I just wanted a chance to tell folks my side of what happened. Thank you for giving me that chance ma’am.
IN: Thank you for sitting down with me this evening, I do wish you the best of luck going forward. I’m Indira Nooyi and this has been another edition of Tic-Talk, thanks for joining us and see you next week. https://relay.sc/fiction/aliveAlive 2017-02-01T18:03:00+00:002017-02-01T18:47:17+00:00Nehkarahttps://relay.sc/contributor/Nehkara January 01, 2947
Today Griff and I were attacked again by the Vanduul. 4 Scythes and a Glaive. We lost our ability to quantum yesterday. I got a distress call out, full power, but we can only hold them off so long. I hope it’s long enough.
January 02, 2947 at 14:09
Our long range scanners are detecting another Vanduul patrol. 6 Glaives. I… I don’t know.
January 02, 2947 at 19:34
Griff is dead... Griff is dead. I got away in the escape pod. I should have stayed. Oh Griff…
January 02, 2947 at 23:43
Entering atmosphere. Crash landing imminent. Hope the landing systems still work. It’s going to be lonely down there without you Griff. I miss you…
January 04, 2947 at 09:31
So I survived. I’m sorry I haven’t written more Griff… I have been busy trying to learn about the world I am stuck on.
Thank you Griff. Thank you for insisting I get an Explorer mobiGlas. I’d probably be dead without it.
I ended up on Leir III. Crashed in the desert. First thing this morning I found a source of fresh water so I should be able to stay alive for awhile. Now I just have to figure out how to get the word out that I’m down here… and maybe find something to eat. Rations won’t last forever.
January 07, 2947 at 01:32
Hey Griff… here’s how I’m doing today:
First of all, the desert is damn cold at night.
Secondly, Aegis really does make these Vanguard escape pods tough. I was attacked by some nomads today but the pod made great cover and I was able to defend without any real trouble.
Thirdly, I managed to reconfigure the E-War equipment from the pod to be used for long range communications. I boosted it as much as I could and began sending an SOS. Unfortunately, I think the signal is what caused the nomads to attack.
January 09, 2947 at 06:02
Griff… I’m scared. Occasionally I can hear something moving through the sand under the pod. What do I do?
January 11, 2947 at 14:31
There’s no easy way to say this… I’m inside a Valakkar. A giant sandworm. I learned that from my Galactapedia. I think my distress call attracted it.
As I said, these Vanguard pods are tough… so I’m still alive. Last night the Valakkar ate the pod while I was sleeping.
Not so optimistic about rescue now, but I’m going to try sending out another signal. It should still get out, even from my current… locale.
“To anyone listening, I am Kora. I am currently located on Leir III inside the escape pod from the Vanguard Sentinel ‘Apocrypha’. Our ship was disabled and then destroyed by successive Vanduul attacks. My crewmate died.
Last night this pod was devoured by a Valakkar. I have included a Galactapedia link about the creature. This is an urgent distress call! Please rescue me if you can. I should be able to survive for a couple of days. Follow this signal to find the Valakkar in question.
If any should make the attempt, I give you my most sincere and heartfelt thanks.
Oh… I’m sorry Griff. I left this recording. Wish me luck... https://relay.sc/fiction/the-day-mars-diedThe Day Mars Died 2017-01-25T17:25:00+00:002017-01-25T18:56:00+00:00Nehkarahttps://relay.sc/contributor/Nehkara Trevor Adams woke early on the morning of September 13th, 2125, his alarm ringing loudly in his ears. Well, I suppose singing would probably be a better description. Birds. No birds up here and Trevor loved birds.
After an exaggerated morning stretch, Trevor stumbled into the shower and then proceeded to wrap up his morning bathroom rituals.
Trevor whistled one of the bird songs from his alarm as he pulled on his overalls and spacesuit. No helmet for the fifth straight day… company says they’re still mandatory but not a single worker is wearing it. Why would you bother if you’re fine without it?
Atmospheric Engineer was his title. He was proud of it. Trevor worked tirelessly in school to prepare himself for a career in the burgeoning field of terraforming and here he was.
The Mars terraforming project was a great success. Only 12 years after terraforming technology was first patented, Trevor and his team had already set up a stable breathable atmosphere on Mars. The achievement was, if you would forgive a brief pun, out of this world.
Trevor’s task for this sol was to visit three atmospheric monitoring stations, to ensure the readings continued to be stable, and perform any necessary maintenance on the associated atmospheric processors.
Despite the fact that there were almost five thousand people on Mars, Trevor was working alone in an isolated area and had been for several weeks.
Munching absentmindedly on a nutrient bar, his breakfast, he strode out of the habitat unit and jumped on to his Marver (some smart ass had decided that Mars Rover = Marver. I know…). It was a short and uneventful trip up out of the crater and up onto the south ridge to visit ATMO-63, first workstation of the day.
Having finished his breakfast, Trevor took a long swig of water from his flask and strode inside the complex automated station.
It took hardly a glance at the display panels inside ATMO-63 for Trevor to understand that something was seriously wrong.
Trevor immediately began working the problem, thinking it was perhaps localized to ATMO-63.
Unfortunately, the huge success of the Mars Terraforming mission had led to significant lapses in the duties of the responsible scientists and engineers. Last night had been a particularly big party at the main hab. No one else had checked their stations yet on this sol.
The fact was that ATMO-63 was not an isolated case. All of the atmospheric processors on Mars had been malfunctioning for hours. In order for the system to establish a stable atmosphere, all of the processors had to work together.
Trevor worked to isolate the cause of the abnormal behaviour of the terraforming machine while also attempting to contact the main habitat.
Before he could get far in his work, Trevor noted something truly terrifying. Instruments were reading a massive buildup of pure oxygen inside and around ATMO-63. Trevor immediately turned and started to head for the exit from the station when he heard a deafening WHOOSH followed for just a fraction of a second by the most intense heat he had ever experienced.
And that was it.
The explosion at ATMO-63 was massive, visible all the way from the main habitat, and almost instantly every other atmospheric processor on the planet overloaded and exploded. The interdependency that made the whole system work to build Mars’ atmosphere was what ultimately caused the deaths of all 4,876 souls on Mars that day. Mars’ new atmosphere catastrophically collapsed.
Approximately 9 months later, during the investigation into the disaster, Trevor Adams’ body would be found in the Martian sand near the ruin of ATMO-63.
Hailey Jones, a dear friend of Trevor’s, would be among those to find his remains. She personally dug a grave for her friend and marked it with a small plaque and a tiny audio device. For many years on calm sols one could hear bird songs drifting over the crater from the south ridge. https://relay.sc/fiction/hunted-and-hunter-part-viiiHunted and Hunter, Part VIII2017-01-18T18:00:00+00:002017-01-18T04:24:54+00:00StormyWintershttps://relay.sc/contributor/StormyWinters They came when I was out hunting.
I stormed out the back of my house, running from another of my father's lectures. He said the same thing over and over. "Do something with your life." Well I was trying. But no matter what I settled on it wasn’t good enough for him. So I walked out, to be alone in the forest. I took my rifle and began trekking through the trees far from our small, frontier town.
At first I was just annoyed at the idiot pilot skimming low over the treetops, scaring away the prey for kilometers around. But then I caught a glimpse of the blood red Cutlass. I saw him, and he saw me. In an instant I turned from hunter to hunted.
I ran. Sprinted through the shadows underneath the canopy of leaves. Branches whipped past my face. I slid down a steep embankment to a small creek, splashed across, and scrambled up the other side. Ship engines roared overhead, sweeping over the treetops. A spotlight shone down through the darkness, and I turned to stay out of the light. If I could keep going for long enough, perhaps there was hope. My lungs burned and my legs ached, but I had to keep running. They were coming.
I woke up in a cold sweat. My hands were shaking, my heart pounding. I had been dreaming, but couldn’t remember what about. It had to have been bad, though. My breathing was heavy and I couldn’t get it under control. I sat there shaking, sweating and panting, feeling an oppressive sense of urgency. I didn’t know what caused it, but I knew what could fix it.
I reached over and yanked one of the autoinjectors from my pack, jabbing it into my arm. The cool calmness was sweet relief, the urgency was gone. There was no reason to be afraid. Nothing was coming. I was alone in my room... safe. Everything made sense, the world so simple; the turnings of cause and effect were so obvious, playing out in my head.
I rolled over and went back to sleep.
"Wake up, Pup." A hand grabbed my shoulder and I reluctantly rolled over. Ajax stood by my bunk in the dimly lit room, hand still resting on my shoulder.
I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room. Ajax was fully dressed in his customary light combat gear and worn jacket, pistol strapped to his side. "What time is it?" It felt early, but it was always hard to tell underground.
"0500," Ajax said. "Something's up, captain wants us in the hangar." I clambered out of the small bunk and dug out some clothes from my footlocker, hurrying after Ajax as he strode off down the metal corridors of the outpost.
"I can hear you most nights. You're not sleeping well," Ajax said as we walked. "I could get you something to help, if you want."
"No, it's fine." I gave a weak smile. He wasn't convinced. "I'll be alright," I assured him. "Things have just been stressful, we've been so busy lately."
"All the more reason you need a good night's sleep," he said. I looked at his stern face and bright eyes. There was something almost grandfatherly about him. I nodded, giving in.
The hangar, which usually seemed so empty with only a Cutlass or two, now looked overstuffed. Cobra, the gang's Caterpillar, was there, alongside Draconis, Captain Brannigan's Redeemer. But that wasn't so unusual, not like the strange, curving hulk of the Banu ship that was with them. Stepping down from the vessel were two of the aliens, greyish green skin looking almost bark-like, their long faces and protruding foreheads giving them something of a regal look. In front of them walked a fat, bald man I had hoped never to see again. The slave market auctioneer.
"Brannigan, my friend!" The fat man called as he crossed towards the captain, whose cold glare showed no intention of reciprocating the affection. "It's been too long." The other mercs were slowly trickling into the hangar to watch the spectacle.
"You should know I'm not one for pleasantries," the captain replied. "I let you land because you said you had work for us. So what is it?"
"Of course," the fat man said with a small bow of his head. "Perhaps you would like to discuss it in private?" He motioned to the Banu vessel, inviting the captain onboard.
Another bow of the head, all accommodating. "Very well. I have told my Banu friends here of your battle skills, and we have a proposition for you. They represent a swiftly-growing business venture in the Sovereignty, and their need for manual labor has outpaced their ability to provide an adequate workforce."
Captain Brannigan's face grew darker as he listened. "So they need slaves. Sell 'em what they need and be done, why come here?"
"Ah, well," the man's face took on a sorrowful expression, conveying some personal failing. "My stock at the moment is not... adequate for their needs."
The realization of what the man was asking was a slap on the face. Dead silence filled the hangar. The gathered mercenaries watched on without a sound, some with mouths partly open, others confused, more with greed in their eyes. The captain slowly dropped his arms to his side and took a step towards the fat man. “You’re asking us to get you some more?”
“I have the perfect target,” the slaver said. “Got info from a nearby system, their militia is a bit undermanned right now, and they’ve been tied up dealing with Vanduul threats. Last time we met, Troya was telling me about some truly fascinating Vanduul signature decoys she’s been working on. With those, a small, fast, well-armed force such as yourself could...”
“No!” Captain Brannigan cut in. “You know very well I despise your trade. I tolerate you because I know if you were gone someone else would just take your place. I’ll protect you from the vermin you do business with, but we’re not pirates, and we’re sure not slavers.”
"Pleased see you." The oddly-formed words coming from one of the Banu came as a surprise. "That is, for the purposes of benefit mutual we see you gladly.” The broken phrases were almost comical, and that somehow served to multiply the contrasting tension. “Slaves, as you say, are not desire. We seek purchase of debt contract to be repaid by work. Finding us such contract, that is desire.”
The fat man frowned at the Banu, then flashed a smile back at the captain. “You see,” he said. “They won’t be slaves. Indentured servants. The Banu will let them go, eventually.”
I began to see the twisted logic of the alien slavers, how they could justify it all to themselves under their morality and own strange laws. If humans did the capturing, then in the Banu’s eyes they would be saving the slaves from their human captors. This debt would then need to be repaid, along with the cost of transportation, living, food, and a dozen other things until the ‘indentured servants’ would never see a hope of freedom.
The captain slowly looked over the Banu from head to... whatever they hid inside the apparel at the end of their legs. “Whatever you call it, it’s still slavery. And it’s still disgusting. The answer is no, now get out of my hangar.”
The captain turned to go, but the fat man wasn’t quite done. “I’ll pay you four times the usual!” he shouted.
Brannigan froze in his steps. I could see he was actually considering it. But that wasn’t what horrified me. Rather it was looks of absolute glee on almost every mercenary face in the hangar. Even as the cold anger and repulsion burned through me, a part of me admired the skill of the manipulation. Brannigan couldn’t refuse, not now. Not once the offer had been made in front of everyone. For most of the crew that stood around him, it was all about money. And if he turned this much down, that crew would no longer be his.They’d just kill him and go do the job anyway.
I looked to Ajax and was relieved to see he, at least, seemed just as revolted at the idea as I was. Though he, too, knew the inevitable outcome. The captain slowly turned back around, his eyes sweeping over the mercs, taking in the tacit vote on each face and realizing just how outnumbered he was. When those cold, blue eyes settled back on the slaver, there was hatred. A solid promise of death. Not today, but soon. His voice was low, quiet, but hard. “Deal.” https://relay.sc/fiction/dear-diaryDear Diary2017-01-11T16:32:00+00:002017-01-11T18:53:55+00:00Errishttps://relay.sc/contributor/Erris We’re heading to the protest today, Sandra and I. We’re human, but…
It’s still wrong, what the UEE are doing, and we have to stand up for them, just like someone stood up for people like us all those years ago.
No. I should…
This is going to be a record, to explain why, to my family, friends, and to history, what happened, and why I had to do it.
So let me explain.
The Tevarin. It all comes down to the Tevarin.
The UEE beat them. Twice. Two different wars, decades apart, and then they just… we just… we enslaved them.
They’re getting some rights now, slowly, but it’s too slow. Even here on Jalan. The Tevarin are beings too. They have thoughts, hopes, dreams… and the UEE just… they just crush them. Grind them under jackbooted heel like some common bug.
Have you ever seen the Tevarin camps? I don’t expect you have. And if you’re reading this in the future, then… then hopefully you never will. Hopefully they’ll be long gone.
Because they are horrible. The Tevarin, living in squalor, stripped of dignity, respect, honour; stripped of the very things that make them Tevarin. Stripped of their belongings, thrown together like cattle, treated like criminals.
It’s like if we stripped humans of our freedom. Of the most important thing we have.
And Moscovitz sits on his throne, sits on his pedestal of power, and he abuses them. He laughs at them, posts videos of them, uses them for sport. He attacks any that try to stand up for themselves, attacks any of us that try to stand up for them.
Well, no more. We can’t let it continue.
We are organized. We are powerful. We are free. We can change the world, for the Tevarin, and for us. We just have to make our voices heard. We have to make our voices heard against the tyranny, the lies, the antagonistic assault, against the hate and fear spread by Moscovitz, spread by him, and those in power under him.
There’s an event today. Moscovitz is holding a rally; a ‘confirmation’ of his power. It’ll be a military affair, but…
We are organized. We are powerful. We are free.
And we are many.
There are more of us than there are like him. And even if they gun us all down, someone will know. Someone will hear. Someone else will rise up and take up the cause.
All he wants is power. All the Tevarin want is their honour. All we want is their freedom.
Mamma, Pa, if you read this… I hope you understand. You always taught me to treat everyone with love and respect and… I hope you can see that I’m just trying to live up to that. I hope you can be proud.
To everyone else, to anyone else, Sandra and I… we know we probably won’t make it back from this. We know how the UEE, how Moscovitz, deals with protestors. Just… don’t forget about us. Don’t forget about the Tevarin.
Don’t forget about Freedom.
Excerpt from the diary of Reese Allanah, 2719 – 2747
This entry, and thousands like it, are kept in the Tevarin Freedom Memorial, in memory of all who fought for Freedom from tyranny, oppression, and the UEE. https://relay.sc/fiction/iris-and-anemones-on-new-corvoIrises and Anemones on New Corvo2017-01-04T18:00:00+00:002017-01-04T19:29:59+00:00StormyWintershttps://relay.sc/contributor/StormyWinters Life is made of moments taken for granted. Moments of joy, moments of sorrow, moments of regret, the list goes on. The touch of his fingers as they glided down the skin of my back, the way he would caress my hair and then my face but most of all the light kisses he pressed into my neck each morning we were able to steal moments together in our busy lives.
Everett was a Navy medic and trained Cutlass Red pilot, he was stationed at the New Corvo Naval base and did regular rotations off world every few months. I was a civilian nurse at the New Corvo Medical Institute, New Corvo’s largest hospital. Between his deployments and my shift work, it took a lot of effort and work to try and make something in our schedules work.
This morning was a rare occurrence. The sun streamed through the window of my bedroom, warming me as I slowly woke. I could feel the weight of Everett’s arm across my hip, his body heat permeating my back from his closeness, his breath slowly tickling the back of my neck every time he exhaled. I reached back and slid my fingers into the hair at the back of his head, slowly working my fingers in circles as I heard him sigh.
“If you keep that up I may not leave this morning.” His gravelly morning voice vibrated my shoulder, his lips pressed up against it.
“Would that be such a horrible thing?” I asked with a small smile.
“Mmm, no. Would just make us both AWOL and then I’d have to contend with the Navy knocking at your door to drag me back.”
I didn’t have a chance to answer before his mobiGlas pinged abruptly in the quiet apartment. I felt him roll away from me to grab it from the bedside table, fully expecting him to check it and rejoin me. When a long moment went by I turned and glanced at him, his face a mixture of focus and shock.
He jumped out of bed quickly gathering his clothes and pulling them on, “I’m being
recalled immediately. There’s been a Vanduul attack in orbit, our fleet is fighting them as we speak.”
As if to emphasize the truth of his words my mobiGlas pinged beside me, I quickly read the message that had been sent. NCMI was prepping for a mass casualty situation, calling in all able bodied medical staff to assist and stand by. I threw the covers aside and grabbed my clothes off the chair and quickly dressed. Everett was almost ready and walking out the door.
I chased him out my front and stopped dead in my tracks as I looked up to the sky, “Everett…”
My voice trailed off as I spotted the battle that was taking place in orbit right above us. Splashes of colour so intense they lit up the early morning sky, one disappearing just to be replaced by another. A cold feeling took hold in the pit of my stomach, I grabbed his hand so tight in mine my fingers ached. I turned to him taking hold his other hand, “Don’t go.”
“Sweetheart, you know I have to.” His voice was gently restrained as he pulled me tight
into his arms, his hand rubbing my back trying to calm me. “No more than you couldn’t stay if I asked you to. We have our duties.”
He pulled back caressing my face with both his hands, “We both have to be strong and think of the people we need to help. Focus on that, ok?”
I nodded as I bit my lip to keep my eyes from filling up. I was scared and he knew it, his voice was rock solid, not one tremble in any of his words to convey his fear. He kissed me softly on the lips before pulling me in for one more tight embrace, “Know that I love you very much, ok? I always will, stay safe.”
A military transport pulled up, I hadn’t even seen or heard it coming up my street. “Lieutenant Cole, we were sent to retrieve you.”
“I’ll see you later.” His words whispered into my ear before he pulled away, dropping a quick kiss on my forehead before hopping into the waiting transport.
I watched the transport take off and disappear down the street at an urgent speed. I waited til I could no longer see it before turning and starting the walk to work. NCMI was only a 10 minute walk from where I lived but Everett’s sense of urgency had also taken me over and I felt the need to make it quickly. Just as I walked through the doors of the hospital I heard the aerial siren go off, warning the city of an incoming attack.
Mere minutes passed before we felt the shudder of the first bomb shake the ground, the lights blinking off and on once, everything glass rattling momentarily. “Amy, I need the staff list, I need to know who’s here.”
I was the charge nurse for the NCMI Emergency Department and used to the chaos and busyness of said department but I knew our worst day to date wouldn’t compare with today. I was handed a digital manifest that I quickly scrolled through, assigning tasks and duties as fast I could. Trying to get the basics out of the way before we were inundated with the wounded.
The next hours pushed us to the brink, the bombing accelerated and it became the norm to hear both Navy and Vanduul aircraft whistle over the city as the Navy fought to protect the city from the enemy. The outside courtyard turned into triage as every free space filled up inside the hospital, forcing us to only admit the most critical and treat the minorly wounded outside under the risk of aerial attack.
The floors inside my department became slick and dangerous to traverse as we worked feverishly, hopping from patient to patient in hopes of saving as many as was possible as they bled all over my floors. A few Navy personnel who obviously hadn’t made it to the base filtered through the doors. Every time a uniform ended up on one of my beds, my heart stopped. Just to start again when I realized it wasn’t Everett.
The evening wore on and supplies were low as we scrambled to field dress and treat everyone with whatever we had. This was the one time I was glad I had sat through one of Everett’s little lessons when he had shown me the basics of how to patch someone up with no advanced medical techniques. His words at the time echoed through my head, “You may not always have all the fancy machines and advanced technology that you’re used to. One day you might be forced to resort to other means.”
The main power had been knocked out hours ago and we’d been running on backup power ever since, it made things twice as hard as day turned to night. I threw another pair of gloves into the closest overflowing garbage and snapped a clean pair up as I moved to the next bed. I could hear the wheezing of his laboured breathing before I even got close to the bed, never a good sign. As the the closest nurse stepped back to allow me closer inspection my heart dropped and I felt bile rise in my throat.
Tears filled my eyes and pooled there, his eyes locked with mine and held them. “Hello sweetheart.”
Those words took the greatest effort for him to say and I felt the pooled tears silently track their way down my cheeks. I stepped forward and lifted the dressing from his chest as small trickles of blood slowly seeped down his sides. I closed my eyes and replaced the dressing, my hand lightly holding it in place.
I felt him lay his hand over mine, my eyes opening to meet his. His raspy breaths came irregular and he fought to speak, “I know.”
I felt defeat settle over me, there was nothing I could do for him. His condition was too far gone to treat with what I had on hand, he’d lost too much blood. He’d come in too late in the day for me to do a damn thing for him and because of a wretched twist of fate, I was going to lose him.
I grabbed his other hand with my free one and held tight, my eyes staying locked on his. Feeling his chest rise and fall irregularly, a small hitch once in awhile that forebode what was ahead. I felt his warmth slowly seeping through my fingers as his life drained away. Any words that I might have said wouldn’t have been enough, my eyes told. Hot tears smearing the dirt on my cheeks as they left clean trails behind.
In the end Everett managed to rally enough to speak once more and it was enough, “Know that I love you and that I always will.”
His chest fell once more and didn’t move again, his hand slowly sliding away from mine as the weight of his arm pulled it down. Life is made of moments taken for granted... the way his eyes lit up when he smiled, the way his lips felt anytime he kissed me, the softness of his hair as I ran my fingers through it, and so much more.
When it was all over, the fighting and the dying, it rained. The day after everything went silent, large drops soaked into the earth, attempting to wash away the evidence of destruction and death. I walked out to the crest of a small hill overlooking the largest park and river in all of New Corvo - the spot Everett and I had always called our own.
Scorched earth with patches of enduring life dotted the park, I turned my face up to the rain and let it wash down, mingling with the tears that escaped the corners of my eyes. I looked up to the sky, the unseen space where Everett had spent most of his career, doing what he loved. My voice cracked mildly but I managed to get the words out before new grief hit me, “Know that I love you and always will.”
Author’s Note: The title to most wouldn’t make sense when you finally read the story but when I wrote that final paragraph where she’s looking up into the rain in the park, the thing that came to mind was flowers and that each flower symbolizes something. An iris for instance is symbolic for hope and valor while an anemone is symbolic for the end to cold, dark days and the return of the sun. Both appropriate especially for that final closing paragraph, I hope you enjoyed it.