1808/AC02-15EVENTLOG
Ω CHAPTER Fifteen: They. Chosen by Fate; From Ashes they rise…
“Alert all commands, alert all stations, alert all OSFC personnel, alert all civilians. Prokhyon is under attack. All OSFC forces both active and deactivated must rally at local coordination hubs for deployment to either Mercurial Eye or for local sector defence. Under pain of absolute reprisals, do not disregard this notice.”
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It was hard to conceive what the crew were thinking at that moment. Each of them held the withered scars of the journey taken thus far. Their hair was thinned and matted, their visage dirtied and hollowed. Black rings shadowed cold eyes…
And now they were further emburdened.
The Chancellor panned the weary individuals. They held each other, physically and metaphorically. KT had done nothing but drink, and leant barely awake against the Phoenix’s engineer. He had been tinkering with a meaningless device, he had only heard what was said, he had no understanding of the mission atall. Jax had done nothing but smoke, something that could’ve been considered normal, except each one had been stubbed out on her palm. These people had already gone beyond their limits.
Their captain had been silent, watching the display of his broken friends carefully but still there were moments his eyes would glaze over and his stare would fix blindly into nothingness. The Chancellor had repeatedly glanced at him with doubt, yet the man was strangely confident in them. As worn as they were, they had more to give. They had to have more to give.
“As low as the chances are that the plan will work, if it succeeds this war could turn in our favour. The information you have is good, by the time you jump to hyperlight you will have more. Fleet Command could build one of these ships from the intel in your datadrives.” His words were strangely confident now too. But as he began signing off his plan he noticed the glares rise from the assembled crew. This had gone too far already. “We can help you with the upgrades, but you know your ship better than anyone else-”
“So you want us to risk our lives and our ship’s for a fool’s errand, entirely dependant on a piece of technology that you don't even understand?” Jax muttered, albeit loud enough, and simple enough for their clueless engineer to understand. “You’re still trying to fight this thing!”
“It is under our reasonable assumption that the OSFC has the technology needed to hold a defensive line around our homeworld but only if we-”
The Chancellor was cut off by French’s glare intensifying suddenly and viciously, like a peaceful mountain erupting into a volcano.
“We won't help you.” He shifted his shoulder, earning an irritated groan from KT.
“French.” Skip’s voice was low and firm.
“Nah boss, we’s gonna be flyin’ into oblivion for these fraggers.” He raised his finger, pointing at the Chancellor. “They’s gonna give us what we need. An order’s an order, but if they’s want us to risk our neck, them’s gonna do it!”
“We have Six hours before this station falls. Everyone needs to do their part.”
“We have! Don't forget Chancellor we have seen everything this has done.” Jax said firmly, putting out another cigarette. She pushed her fingers aggressively against her temples, her eyes went wide. “That information on our drives is burned into our fraggin’ heads! When it’s quiet I hear their fraggin’ victims screamin’!”
The crew all jumped suddenly as her hand crashed against the briefing table. The long forgotten display shuddered and stuttered from the impact. Her eyes ran around her colleagues, in the seconds of confusion they had readied to run to the helm. Fear might not have been evident day by day, but by the stars they were all filled by it. Jax sights fell upon Skip. “Why aren't you saying anything Captain!”
He tapped the table a few times ponderously. “You need to calm down.”
“Skip… It's bad enough you are… trying to get us to deatomise.” KT’s voice was a deep slur. “But now you’re trying to get us to help them gut our girl?”
“Let me make this completely clear. Our job is not over. We are at a waypoint, but our mission isn’t over until we get to Fleet Command.” He shrugged. “Simple.”
“We said that our job would be over when we got to Mercurial Eye!”
“Yes we did but it turns out we are wrong. The plan has changed. Simple as! We are officers, these are our orders!" he barked. Staring down at the cold metal floor. He didn't know why he felt a tear drop, but he let it anyway. He opened his hand to let the crushed cup drop to the floor. "Look I ain't gonna give you a motivational speech like some heroic general, I ain't gonna say we can go further. We can't. Looking at you all I know that… Damnit one more loss and I’ll be done for. But if we don't at least try-"
"Everything is lost." KT whispered, her head swung to face her comrade. Jax wasn't making eye contact with anyone, she simply searched for the answers in her own ashy blood.
"Everyone is gone." She threw her penance amongst the damned.
"There's a chance they may stop here… We don't know what they want, they might just want Prokhyon and peace can be made after. But if we are wrong, then everyone we love would’ve lost the one hope they had..." Skip levelled the field; he didn't want to force their hands. "We're not not the right people for this, that is absolutely true. This ship needs to get to Gaia, she’s ours where she flies, so do we. I couldn’t see someone else take her. So yeah, we aren’t the right ones however-"
“We are the ones chosen to save humanity.” Jax murmured. She rose to her feet wearily. She made to speak again, but the words broke in her throat. The pressure mounted, that was easy to tell. Hardened as she was, she just walked off ship with disgust at fate’s cruel choice, grinding her burned hand as she went.
“Oi dickhead do us a favour and scram.” French glared at the chancellor again. The man was going to protest, but a simple wave, albeit backed by the engineer’s terrifying gaze told him otherwise. Within seconds he had descended the ladder to main engineering. French leaned forward. “What are you gunnin’ for boss?”
“I'm flying our girl to Centauri. I’ll do it alone if I have to but I want to bring my people with me.” Skip ran his hand down his face. “Entirely for selfish reasons… You’re my best mate, Jax is the most loyal mess I’ve ever met and KT… she’s very special. I can’t leave any of you in the wake of this thing”
“Jax will be with us. You know what being alone does to her.” French pressed the button on his wrist computer, its verbose voice announced their time was running out.
“Us?”
“Comeon mate where ye’ are, I am jus’ next to ya’.” He smirked. “Wanted to get a few more hands on our ship to help.” He shrugged his shoulder, earning another groan. “Now we just got this one to worry about.”
“Get her sober and get her speaking with the scientists.” Skip grumbled, rising to his feet.
“What if she says no?”
“Tell her the only place we can leave her is on a station with Wulf.”
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“If you’s go breakin’ my girl I will break you’s ass!” French barked from the top of the scaffolding, when the intruding scrubber didn't move he brought his fusion torch from the Phoenix’s nose into a swinging arc aimed at its head. “Frag off ye’ useless bastard!”
“French! Play nice!” Skip barked from below, the engineer leaned over the edge then retreated suddenly with a sensation of vertigo.
“What's the point... of ‘avin these... idiots crawl... over our girl like mites! I... can fit this thing in me sleep!” The engineer complained in between the hiss blasts from the torch. “Oi dickhead! Wher’in ye’ sayin’ this went!”
Skip wasn’t sure if he was welding the pinpoint breacher on or attacking the scrubber again. The answer landed quickly, having hit some speed when it landed not far from the gantry. He could hear French screaming even without the channel between them. “An’ thats yer peace ye’ Fragger!”
“Does he do that often? Captain?” A dockworker asked, pushing another crate of medical supplies towards the airlock.
“It won't be a first.” Skip sighed, he walked into a position where he could see the engineer, now deep in work. He raised his wrist computer to his mouth. “Oi You illiterate bastard!”
“Hey tha’s hardly accurate I spell me name now!” French waved the fusion torch in his captain's direction now, thankfully the distance between them was quite substantial..
“No killing the scrubbers! They were people too y'know!”
“But they aint now! And it’s legal too anyways y'know!” The man barked back, he went back to work muttering as he went back to work, he followed his orders, even though no scrubber got close enough to him again to be in the danger zone.
The Phoenix stood on her stern upon her landing gear. She hadn’t moved since she was deposited in the hanger. She had, however, been enshrouded in multiple massive scaffolds. Her turrets had been all removed to enable access to her inner workings, workings they had yet to actually get to.
Skip looked over the shipyard assessment, doubt rang in his mind, none of which were aided by the items crossed out. All of them reasoned by a lack of time. The damage was excessive, far worse than they actually thought. The impacts had done more than damage the areas they hit; shrapnel was found as far inboard as an access port in her cargo bay. However such shrapnel would likely remain, for if the leak in their reactor fuel tanks was crossed out, housekeeping surely was.
He watched carefully as a large crane slowly removed her port armour plating. It came off in one piece, like a massive, perforated shell over her delicate innards. The crane moved slowly, bit by bit revealing her fuel tanks, ammo reems, gyroscopes, thruster assemblies and various other components of varying form and purpose. She looked remarkably fragile without them. Her workings pulsed and glowed and turned endlessly, like her very soul was on display for all to see. She should’ve been mirror-symmetrical, yet the difference between both sides was worrying. Each side bore reaves and tears, shattered components fell like dust and dirt, Skip was amazed she had found the power to make it this far, yet in flight there was no telling, she refused to fail them.
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She would never give up on them.
His endless gaze upon the Phoenix kept his attention away from his surroundings, he didn't even hear Jax’s greeting, nor even see her approach.
“Skip?” She asked, tapping his shoulder with her datapad. He snapped from his trance in a flash.
“What you got, sparky?” She sighed at her old nickname, it was rare it slipped into conversation, yet the look of mirth on her captain’s face showed it was far from accidental.
“The brains are saying they’ll mount the drive unit in our aft cargo bay. The modifications aren’t too extensive, but it will have to be wired into our SDE drive fins.” Jax explained as she eyed over the plans on her datapad. “French has just fitted the pinpoint-breacher onto the bow, and he's gonna work on the structural bracing next.”
“Hows that work?” Jax looked at him suddenly disheartened.
“Well how do I know I ain’t a scientist!”
“I meant the bracing.” Skip shook his head in brief despair.
“Well they’re pulling them off the Ember Song. They're large quadrasteel beams that run from bow to aft internally and externally.” Jax gestured to the beams in question, being dragged slowly towards the assembly site. “They’re gonna be fusion welded directly to the Phoenix’s internal structure, should prevent her from being crushed when the drive activates. If we survive, they'll fix us a pretty few million I’m sure.”
“Why do I feel like even activating that drive onboard will be dangerous?” Skip eyed the drive core, slowly being raised into the Phoenix's aft airlock. The dockyard was putting on a big push, repairing and fitting a thousand components at once. It was that set of lazily rotating rings that really put him on edge. The core was unlike anything previously seen, more alien than the ships ever approaching.
“Probably because it is. But we don’t have another option. Like you said we have to get the intel to command.”
“Yeah don’t remind me, I’m trying not to think about it.” Skip looked at his wrist computer, it felt like it’d already been too long.
“How long have we got Skip?”
“No more than an hour plus half.” He tried to hide the concern, but the young officer was always a little too observant.
“Scared?”
“What answer would you prefer?”
“The truth.”
“Yes. I am scared, but I ain’t scared of dying, even though I am certain that we will.” He looked down at her and smiled. “I’m scared of failing. At Least if we give it our damndest and we still lose we can say we did our best.”
Jax nodded, she looked at the datapad, and then back at their home. “I’m not used to you being scared.”
“The stakes are so high now, it’s impossible to hide it.” Jax slowly grasped onto his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I won't fail myself. I promise. This will be our finest hour.” She swore it to whatever gods she had left. “None of us will give anything less than our best. We may be overwhelmed now, but when we’re on our girl, and as long as we’re under your command, you tell us what needs doing and it will be done.”
Skip smiled, returning her a sharp squeeze that unintentionally caused her to wince and curse. He swept his hand across the mishmash gantry surrounding their Phoenix. “Get her flight ready.”
“Yes Skip.” She parted with a salute.
___________________________
“...Copy that OSFC Glory, station defences and gun platforms at your instruction.”
It was in a distant section however that the real conflict started to unfold. Chancellor Reev stepped, rather nervously, into the command centre. He was remarkably relieved to see the Admiral’s presence was absent. Although the presence of uniformed officers betrayed the fact that whilst he was now gone, his grip on the station was still a chokehold.
“Ralamond.” The Chancellor whispered to a nearby technician. The man could almost be considered a friend, but he was not happy to see him. “Shut down all monitoring equipment in Ember Song’s hanger.”
“And what is the Ember Song, Chancellor?” Wulf’s slick voice came from the technician’s console. Strong hands suddenly gripped his arms, the faces of his captures were obscured behind armour. “Chancellor?”
“Experimental Prototype Interstellar Craft. We are evacuating our brightest minds.” The man couldn’t quite keep the panic from his voice. His hand fumbled at his wrist computer’s connector wire. The admiral’s visage appeared before him, eye to eye. Even in the flickering hard-light the man’s presence made everyone uncomfortable.
“I ordered no evacuations.” Wulf growled. Insubordination was the quickest way to enrage him. “Send them back to their duties immediately.”
“I cannot.” The wire extended with a light pull. “They are all civilians, they have no purpose being here or under your command.”
“I am a member of the OSFC Admiralty. My word is absolute. Any act that goes against my orders is an act of rebellion, and will be treated as such.” The admiral’s voice was firm, his authority absolute. People would not breathe unless he ordered it. His eagle gaze turned to one of the armoured men. “KRAIT you are ordered to halt the evacuation, just as soon as you have terminated the Chancellor.”
“Then let it be so…” The Chancellor hissed, inserting the cord into the console. He subtly pressed a button on his computer. He didn’t listen to the admiral reading his sentence, only sending his hopes and wished one last time to the distant Phoenix. As he felt the gun barrel press into his spine he looked up. Venom in his eyes. In his last moments he shed himself of the standards thrust upon him. His old accent returned, his breathing stopped. Yet he would not break that eye contact. “You’s will fail, if ye’ cannae see what’s in front of ye’.”
The first shot cleaved his back open, yet it failed to penetrate the armour laid underneath aeons ago. It took several shots in the back for the man to fall. As he fell to his knees he still lived. Only the finishing shot through his skull ended his presence, and his body went slack and still. Yet his last actions were still felt.
“Sir, we have masses of data flowing into a datacore in that section, and all bulkheads leading to the Ember Song’s hanger are sealing shut!” A technician barked. When she looked from her console, she caught a darkness in the void that practically stopped her heart. “Enemy Fleet Sighted!”
___________________________
The station trembled, and yet the dockworkers still rushed to finish the Phoenix’s modifications. The work was an epic undertaking, all the while every man, woman and scrubber was made very aware that getting this ship ready was all that mattered. This was their only chance. The gantry clamps lowered even as her slabs of armour were clamped back upon her frame. The two clamshells had been hastily, yet effectively repaired and modified. The rended and torn sections were now sandwiched by sheets fresh out of the station's roaring furnaces, however the fit was uneven, and small gaps between the plates were overlooked only from desperation. They’d been on for mere moments when all twelve of her turrets were reinstalled simultaneously, and in turn the cranes had barely cleared the hull when the clamps were inserted into her hardpoints, and the Phoenix began to rise from her scaffold...
The whir of machinery was ever present over the echoing booms of distant explosions. The Phoenix was brought to her launch tunnel, but as the gantry brought her nearer and nearer to her finest hour the crew still scrambled to get the ship ready. Systems were rebooted off of the station’s mainframe, and scrubbers still clung to the ship’s ventral and dorsal surfaces performing final checks. Everything had to be perfect, the margin for error was non-existent.
“Alright, boot her up!” French barked, he checked over the relays for the tenth time. He engaged the breaker with a massive heave, a bead of sweat broke from under his cap. “Anything?”
“Nothing!” KT shouted back. Her console was still dark and powerless. Something somewhere had gone wrong. She looked beside her. Skip's expression simply asked what was happening. “Something isn’t connected properly. I’ve got no Nav control.”
“Do we need to go back to ground?” He too had noticed errors on his helm console. The Phoenix was not happy to have had her innards messed with.
“No it’ll be in the relays. French can reach them from onboard.” KT hoped.
“If we launch. That is it. You do realise that?” Jax pointed out, she too was having problems with her turrets. The slapdash job had been far from perfect; she double checked the tension bolts on its base. They just wouldn’t tighten properly...
“Yes I do. But it's a chance we got to-”
“I got it!” French yelled triumphantly. The entire ship went dark for a brief moment, before the Phoenix returned to life with a powerful whine. The displays threw errors, a problem easily solved.
“Jax, reboot our systems and get ready to cut us loose.” Skip ordered, reloading the systems they had backups for. The vents came online, their manoeuvring thrusters as well. The Phoenix reloaded her basic systems; the rest came from the station’s own backups.
“Already done Skip.” She replied, pushing past the hulking engineer as he came forward.
“Looks like whatever Reev did is working… I’m amazed our transfer buses aren't frying from the intel we’re getting…” Skip watched the flashing display with awe. It was supposed to be showing them what they were receiving, but all it showed was a series of flashing images changing so fast their content’s were indiscernible.
“All systems respondin’ to station power. I can’t believe it but we’s are a go for launch once Jax gives the word.” French announced, taking his place at his console. Skip turned to KT, looking at her and nothing else.
“I need you to tell me if you can't do this.” He insisted. She withered under his gaze for a moment, but still held firm.
“I never trained for interstellar navigation, Captain…” Her back straightened, her gaze became firm. “But I will get us there. I fraggin’ swear it to my ancestors.”
The two nodded curtly to one another as their view became that of a shear metal cliff. Painted arrows pointed upwards, arrows that were moving downward. They were climbing to the launch tunnel. It was nearly time…
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Jax scrambled across the hull as the Phoenix rose into the launch tunnel, it seemingly ran for hundreds of miles. She couldn't see the end of it, it was a single tunnel into infinity.
Above on the gantry a scrubber worked arms deep in the machinery, Whilst its brethren had taken the leap onto the walkways snaking upon the metal cliff it had remained, desperately working to disconnect the ship from the station’s power supply. After a herculean effort it gave her a thumbs up.
Once again, the Phoenix was rendered into darkness…
Only to become more alive than ever before.
Her lights seemed brighter. Her hull felt charged underfoot. The idling hum of her thrusters was more akin to the roar of a ferocious storm, and the lick of flames she released from them were ever intense and violent. They warmed Jax even as she kept clear of them. The heat was intense. She had become one with the flame fanned by alien technologies.
“All good this end, standby.” French announced down the comm. Jax scrambled across the hull, pausing briefly as the light changed. They were being sealed into the launch tunnel.
Their time was upon them.
“Evacuation is authorised, Station integrity failing…”
The announcement silenced all their hearts. Every one of them, across the station and beyond. The conversations, the interactions, people’s very thoughts all went silent…
Jax listened carefully beyond the whine of their engines and the beating heart of the Phoenix. Sure enough it was there…
The sounds of weapons fire, both being sent…
And returned, the impacts of which echoed with the sound of dying machinery and ended lives… Mercurial Eye could no longer hold back the tide.
“Have mercy on us please…” She begged.
However when she went to steel herself for the disconnect from the station’s data stream she found her arm pinned by something. A grip that was strong, unbreaking. It was greasy, and despite what anyone would’ve said it felt… Human.
Looking up she saw the scrubber grasping her arm. She tried to tug, yet its grip was strong. It opened its mouth as if to speak, yet the cavity of its mouth was devoid of teeth, tongue and all else. No noise came out but a rasp.
“I don't understand.” She insisted, firm. She tugged again yet it wouldn't let go. “I have to be ready! Let go!”
Jax tugged her sidearm free and pointed it straight at the scrubber. She then noticed its eyes were scared. And pleading. It seemed in utter, isolated terror.
Yet not at her. It could not tell anyone its fear, nor would anyone ever ask it. It released her arm, and held out its own. The writing written in grease was clear and well formed, a reminder that maybe it had once been human too; 'Only you can save us.'
"Jax cut those lines loose, we gotta go!" Skip's voice echoed out the comm. The distant sounds of explosions and rending metal began to sound out even louder, even over the roar of the idling Phoenix. Lights flickered, and sparks began to descend as the Eye began to fail.
She took a moment though to connect to someone whose emotions never mattered to anyone. Whose thoughts and opinions were considered unwarranted and unwanted. She grasped the scrubber’s arm, pulling it down close enough so their foreheads rested upon one another. Its hand rested on the side of her face, and her upon its. Surprisingly it was an equal comfort to them both.
"We will. I promise." She swore, and parted. She felt it stare back at her, even as she severed the Phoenix’s connection. The scrubber withdrew the cable, and gave her a nod. She threw herself into the airlock, but again lingered for no longer than a second, her gaze locked with the scrubber’s own. Tears of fear were in its eyes. She had to say goodbye, and she knew just how to. “Take care, Sir.”
It’s expression turned into a warm smile as she shut the airlock firmly, shaking the thoughts from her mind, she ran forward.
They had worlds to save…