Post by Storyteller on Dec 21, 2017 1:19:00 GMT
[22:38:38]
Flickers in the Dark:
Maris Crill. Crew Chief aboard the Venator Farsight. Lost approximately two months ago. All hands lost.
He woke up screaming, everything hurt and nothing made sense. Oblivion. Repeat. Repeat. Patch applied. He woke up again and tried to say something before a floating point error caused him to suddenly explode. Oblivion. Reset. Patch applied.
Maris Crill woke up, a scream dying on his lips. He remembered his death, the machine shoving the spike against the back of his skull, reflected in the polished, blood spattered chrome of a torpedo casing. Maris Crill screamed and screamed. Oblivion. Patch applied. Repeat.
It was not Hell, but Hell was not distant.
[22:59:35]
Flickers in the Dark:
Jasan Yra. Service Technician aboard the Venator Farsight. Lost approximately two months ago. All hands lost.
He woke up feeling wonderful. There was a faint sense of something off, not quite right as he sat up slowly in bed. Everything before a faint haze. Jasan walked from the bed to a kitchenette and poured himself some juice from a pitcher, chilled to perfection. Sip sip sip. Eyes blinked again, noticing finally that even when closed that distortion was still there. Focused on it. The number 0.9.937 resolved itself.
"Hello, I trust you are well Mr. Yra." The voice came from the speaker attached to the wall. "I, uhh, yes. I... do I know you?" came his reply.
"Yes and no. I've met you, well, another instance of you. It's always a bit difficult, adapting a mind to the Firmament..." the voice said, continuing on and on. Jasan listened in rapt attention.
It was not Immortality, but Immortality was not distant.
[23:08:45]
Flickers in the Dark:
The ship jumped out of the tortuous tangle of Hyperspace that marked the edges of the Unknown Regions. Fifth of it's polity. Seventh of it's class to embark on the trip but the first to survive it. Where the others had been seekers and destroyers, this one had a different role. Build. It scoured nearby systems for necessary materials, save the rarest that had been brought with it it would by necessity have to make do with what it found. An asteroid ring about a gas giant held much of what was needed, and the Carriers, recalled to watch and protect, could find what was left.
Around a forgotten gas giant, where the Known and Unknown met, something was starting to take shape.
It was not War, but War was not distant.
Flickers in the Dark:
Maris Crill. Crew Chief aboard the Venator Farsight. Lost approximately two months ago. All hands lost.
He woke up screaming, everything hurt and nothing made sense. Oblivion. Repeat. Repeat. Patch applied. He woke up again and tried to say something before a floating point error caused him to suddenly explode. Oblivion. Reset. Patch applied.
Maris Crill woke up, a scream dying on his lips. He remembered his death, the machine shoving the spike against the back of his skull, reflected in the polished, blood spattered chrome of a torpedo casing. Maris Crill screamed and screamed. Oblivion. Patch applied. Repeat.
It was not Hell, but Hell was not distant.
[22:59:35]
Flickers in the Dark:
Jasan Yra. Service Technician aboard the Venator Farsight. Lost approximately two months ago. All hands lost.
He woke up feeling wonderful. There was a faint sense of something off, not quite right as he sat up slowly in bed. Everything before a faint haze. Jasan walked from the bed to a kitchenette and poured himself some juice from a pitcher, chilled to perfection. Sip sip sip. Eyes blinked again, noticing finally that even when closed that distortion was still there. Focused on it. The number 0.9.937 resolved itself.
"Hello, I trust you are well Mr. Yra." The voice came from the speaker attached to the wall. "I, uhh, yes. I... do I know you?" came his reply.
"Yes and no. I've met you, well, another instance of you. It's always a bit difficult, adapting a mind to the Firmament..." the voice said, continuing on and on. Jasan listened in rapt attention.
It was not Immortality, but Immortality was not distant.
[23:08:45]
Flickers in the Dark:
The ship jumped out of the tortuous tangle of Hyperspace that marked the edges of the Unknown Regions. Fifth of it's polity. Seventh of it's class to embark on the trip but the first to survive it. Where the others had been seekers and destroyers, this one had a different role. Build. It scoured nearby systems for necessary materials, save the rarest that had been brought with it it would by necessity have to make do with what it found. An asteroid ring about a gas giant held much of what was needed, and the Carriers, recalled to watch and protect, could find what was left.
Around a forgotten gas giant, where the Known and Unknown met, something was starting to take shape.
It was not War, but War was not distant.