"Our Hour of Desperation"
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We return you to Aldaan IV, a desolate planet that was once a thriving colony before it was glassed seven years ago by enemy forces. They came in endless waves, bombing the planet and its people to rubble without hesitation or restraint. Since then, several ships have attempted to survey the planet in hopes that it can still support life. The most recent to attempt this is the Starship Xephyr, who's captain has been given a direct order to find a man believed to be stranded there. Due to recent events however, his vessel is under repair nearby, forcing him and another crewman to board Shuttle craft 3 and make a slight change of course -- into an Hour of Desperation.
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Jarren Caid stepped towards the front of the shuttle, raising one hand over his head to grasp the support bar mounted on the ceiling. His eyes were cast over the shoulder of the younger Lieutenant Mercer, one of his fifteen new recruits from the outpost on Xyban I. He seemed to be a competent enough pilot, but Caid had never served alongside him before, let alone in a search and retrieval mission.
"Take us up another ten meters Lieutenant, I don't want this gravity snatching us unexpectedly... That may have been what happened to the first shuttle." Caid stated, allowing his hand to slip from the bar as he walked back to the shuttle's cold-storage. "You want somethen to drink?" he called out, not pausing for a reply as he dug through the cans and containers to procure a tall bottle of water.
"Actually yeah, What've we got?" the Lieutenant responded, but Caid had already started walking back to the cockpit.
"I dunno..." Caid laughed, resealing the cap to his bottle. "Get off your *** and look, eh?" He allowed a wink as he slid into the Co-Pilot's seat and brought the sensors back to life. Mercer rolled his eyes at the immaturity of his 'Commanding Officer' and stood up to grab a drink, while Caid went on talking in the background.
"We're looken at a barren wasteland... nothing but corroded rock structures and layers of dirt. A few clouds are lingering, but there are no water sources in range. No signs of power or titanium... Our mystery shuttle is still out there somewhere."
Mercer ignored the captain as he resumed his place at the pilot's controls to increase the speed. If nothing was showing up on sensors, what was the point of gliding around at a measly 600 kph? He brought the shuttle up to 950 and lifted the nose a bit to compensate, for a moment considering a rough maneuver to startle Caid... He decided to pass.
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"I've got it!" exclaimed the overly proud Captain Caid, as he brought his console to full zoom and focused the shuttle's scanners on a smashed pile of metal and debris. "Everything checks out, I can even make out bits of the registration number on one of the fragments. It was definitely the shuttle, Take us down..."
Mercer complied dutifully, descending their new shuttle craft in slow, orbital sweeps around the crash site... He touched it down gently near the remains of the missing shuttle, before allowing its door to open and extend into a solid ramp.
Caid and Mercer stepped out of the shuttle and into the daylight, holding scanning equipment as they knelt down to survey the wreckage. There were no signs of life, and no decaying organic matter, so chances were good that its pilot was still alive... somewhere. Caid looked up at the crimson sky, a red span that seemed to stretch out forever. Above them loomed a collection of clouds, dark and slightly purple in hue.
"Maybe we shoulda brought some umbrellas?" Caid suggested, half-joking.
"There are rain coats in the shuttle's cargo, if you're afraid of a little water, Captain..." came the calculated reply of Lieutenant Mercer. Caid shot him a look of silent contempt before stepping off to scan the horizons for the shuttle pilot.
A breeze had started to pick up through the area, causing the wind to bear a slight echo in its wake... The air seemed to wave slightly off in the distance where a small canyon reached skyward, and for a moment, the young Lieutenant could hear a faint whispering.
"You ever been to Aldaan IV before, Captain?" Mercer asked, his eyes affixed to distant landmarks.
"Afraid not..." Caid replied, far from surprised at the lifeless results on his display. "That is one pleasure I haven't had the honor of til now."
"I've been wanting to come here a while now, myself." Mercer admitted.
"I kinda figured... I remembered reading about the 'Twilight' Last year. But I wager this isn't what you expected eh?" Caid chuckled. "From what I recall, your pap's ship was rumored to have crashed on one of the smaller islands. After we're done here, we'll swing by and check it out if you like?" offered Caid.
"Thanks... I appreciate the chance, I know my name wasn't exactly high on the duty roster." Mercer commented as he adjusted the filters on his scanner. Caid, growing tiresome of the subject, decided to change it.
"There are no footprints, but they'd probably be buried in dust by now anyway..." He discerned, shutting his scanner off as he caught the scent of humidity. "Looks like it's gonna rain after all, Mercer... You want a coat too?" The captain asked as he slipped into the shuttle.
"I'm fine." Mercer called, standing up to separate pieces of debris with his foot. "I thought you said there weren't any organics." He remarked as he knelt and withdrew a pair of forceps.
Caid hopped out of the shuttle and tightened the slick gray jacket he had just slipped into, zipping it up the center as he approached the young Lieutenant. Mercer rose to his feet and promptly turned around, offering Caid an up-close glance of a severed finger that had just been sifted from the wreckage. The captain nearly choked on his own breath as his eyes scanned along the dry, clotted stump of flesh and bone.
"Ugh... you think he made it very far with a wound like this, Lieutenant?" Jarren inquired, offering Mercer a solemn expression.
"Probably not." came the response of his pilot... "Here's another one..."
"Wonder why they don't register on the sensors..." Caid smacked the side of his scanner and checked the results again, as if it might help.
"Probably too small for the shuttle's array and too cluttered in with the rest of this **** for the hand scanner... No pun intended of course." Mercer let loose a sigh as he dropped both fingers into a medical container and then probed around the debris until finally finding a third. "Looks like our man is dead, Captain... There's no water or shelter for miles, and we're to assume he just walked around missing three of his fingers? Not likely."
"All right, granted, but then how was the shuttle destroyed? We still haven't answered the questions of How, What, When and Why." Caid offered, and Mercer was forced to acknowledge.
"Well we can speculate as to when... the report said he was seen in orbit by a merchant ship eight days ago. As far as how? The scans are showing a plasma residue; so the shuttle undoubtedly came under-fire. As for what or why... we're in the same boat there." Lieutenant Mercer turned off his own scanner, finally satisfied with his analysis, and paced the area in slow circles.
"Well ****..." Caid sighed, looking up at the ever-darkening clouds. "We can run another pass along the surface, hopefully before this storm hits." He turned to Mercer for an opinion, who had just closed a hand-held communicator. "What the hell are you doing?" His head tilted slightly to one side as he stepped forward, snatching the device from the apparently incompetent Lieutenant. "We've been ordered radio silence!"
"I thought it beeped, damn... you know it could've been new orders..." Mercer shook his head and smirked, knowing damn well he wasn't off to a good start with his captain.
"Just ****en tell me next time, all right? -- That's what you're supposed to do..." Caid restrained to comment further, finding his thoughts towards the crewman a tad too volatile. "Look... don't worry about it, kid. This just isn't what I wanted to find here, that's all. It aint a big deal..." He laughed, clipping the communicator to his belt. "I mean look around you... its us and the sky."
Caid felt a speck of warm rain and looked up, feeling a few more drops hit his nose and face before he clued in and pulled the jacket's hood over his head. At first,the rain's warmth caught his attention, but afterwards he felt a slight streak of sympathy and entered the shuttle to retrieve another rain coat for Lieutenant Mercer. The light sprinkle picked up quickly and amassed into a small storm, which pitter-pattered steadily against the outer walls of the cabin. Caid took a moment to activate the shuttle's pre-flight routines, when he noticed how fogged the viewport had become. He tapped another key to let the engines warm up before stepping back out and onto the surface.
Mercer was on his knees, staring off into some distant horizon as the rain fell against him. Caid approached in slow steps before uttering a sudden gasp of pain as something sizzled against the exposed skin of his right hand... And then again. He dropped the coat he had been holding for Mercer and stared at the wounded flesh between his thumb and forefinger... A pair of small, circular burns were there, and they still sizzled. He bit his lip and looked up at the sky, only to shield his eyes as the burning assaulted his face.
"Acid rain!" he cried, shouting at Mercer to get into the shuttle. He took cover within it and grabbed the water he had been drinking earlier, pouring it liberally over his hand and, more importantly, his face. He took in a deep breath and ran his fingers along the entire surface of his slickly shaven head, trying to ensure he still had a face worth washing. From within the small craft he noticed Mercer still out in the rain, kneeling amidst a shower of searing water. He snarled to himself and rushed out into the storm again, this time grabbing the Lieutenant by the back of the hair.
"Are you deaf and senseless? Get inside the damn shuttle!" He shouted, offering a quick but firm tug at Mercer's hair...which just as quickly pulled right out. The acid rain continued to burn against his scalp where the clump of hair once was, and Caid threw it down in disgust, instead opting to hook his arm around the Lieutenant's neck and drag him back manually.
Jarren shut the door only seconds after hoisting them both into the cabin of the shuttle, whereupon he engaged the magnetic seal. He turned and looked down at the glazed-over eyes of his pilot, wanting to throw a steady kick to his temples for what he had just pulled.
"What the hell is your problem, Ryan?" This was the first time since he met the man, that he had called him by first name.
"I... I'm not sure. It was just so warm out there..." came Mercer's slowly worded reply.
"Warm? It's hot on this whole damn planet, son, and you wanna go play in the acid rain?" Caid snapped at him.
"It's not acid rain... Acid rain is chemical, and we would have detected it." Mercer said, lifting himself up before moving to the pilot's chair. Caid crossed behind him, took the medkit down from its wall-mount and rummaged within for a dermal regenerator... He glanced over at Mercer upon finding one, but decided against offering the Lieutenant any assistance as he applied it first to his own burns. It would be hours before it took effect, but the sooner the better.
"Coulda fooled me... In any event, it got hot and it hurt like hell -- and I was the one wearing a coat... I can't even begin to imagine what you felt." Caid remarked as he took his place at the co-pilots chair and brought the sensors back Online.
"I feel fine." Mercer replied in a lifeless tone. "Can we lift?"
"One sec..." Caid made a slight adjustment to the sensors, knowing they couldn't see much of anything through the viewport. "You're gonna be flyen this thing by map, I'm feeding your panel a layout of the topographical area around us... Don't crash us, Mercer."
The shuttle lifted to life and started to bank around into a more solid flight path, encountering minor turbulence in the storm as it gained altitude. Mercer played the controls well, true to his training, and guided them further along the mainland until they caught a snag in the form of a large rock structure... The jagged formation clipped both the wing and subsequently the engine of the shuttle, sending it spiraling to the harsh surface.
A violent wave of shock spread up along the deck plates, and both men grabbed onto the brace bars mounted to their control panels as tools and equipment came flying from the overhead compartments. Several of the display panels shattered as another wave rippled forth, truly testing the strength of the shuttle's support structures. Caid and Mercer looked at each other in stunned awe. Neither had the foresight of truly mapping the area, aside from some limited scans, so it should have been no surprise to them when it failed. Never-the-less, their expressions betrayed that fact.
"Report?" Caid struggled to stand, having to first free himself from under his crushed console.
"Engines are Online, but suspended... Looks like disaster fail-safes are in place. And..." the tone of Mercer's voice hit a pit of despair "...we definitely have a fuel leak now."
"Then no sense wasting time." Caid sighed, grabbing a toolkit. "I'll get the emergency propulsion Online, we're getten the **** outta here, fuel or not. This mission is over."
"Good." Mercer closed his eyes and slid out of his own broken chair, walking across the cabin of the shuttle and taking a seat near the back. The whispers were coming back again, but they still couldn't drown out the headache he had... "Don't crash us, Mercer...", he thought to himself, mocking Caid's voice... "That son of a *****."
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"Ok..." Caid uttered, pausing until he heard the soft hum of the ship's emergency pod. "I think we're ready... one sec..." A few more keys were tapped, and he brought support power to a wall panel to replace his destroyed co-pilot station. He was in a crawl space near the shuttle's engine systems, so he had no idea if this power transfer actually worked. He decided to make the Lieutenant earn his pay for the day.
"Hey Mercer... Check panel six for me, wouldya?" He called, repeating himself after a moment with no answer. "Mercer?..." He heard a sliding thud and crawled back out of the service duct, glancing around the cabin to find no trace of Lieutenant Mercer. The shuttle door, however, clued him in to the obvious as a warm breeze from the rain outside swept inward.
Caid threw his coat back on and ran out into the rain, his eyes squinting into darkness -- Night fell far too early on this world for his tastes. Sure enough, there was Mercer, having just stepped out onto the surface. He was spinning around in slow circles, arms outstretched, as if he hadn't seen rain in years.
"Caid!" Called out Mercer, his voice frantic against the wind. "See! ...It doesn't hurt... Its rain you coward!"... Laughing with glee, Mercer shed his overshirt amidst the burning rain, oblivious as it pulled with it a thin layer of skin from his back and shoulders... The rain seared down upon his now-exposed chest and he ran his hands over the wounds, as if refreshed by the pain...
Caid lunged at the hysterical crewman, hissing in contempt as a splash of mud and rain burned through the leg of his pants. He pulled Mercer to his feet once more -- who was in no condition to resist -- and proceeded to drag him back, a second time, to the shuttle. Without speaking so much as a word to the man, Caid dropped him like a bad habit onto the floor, kicking him once in the ribs as he stepped over to seize the medkit. He had already used most of the regenerator on himself earlier, leaving only burn ointment; and so was in no mood to start patching up Mercer, who had just started to sit up.
Caid offered nothing in the way of words, instead choosing to tend to his newly acquired burns as the younger Lieutenant winced in pain. Mercer struggled to stand and upon failing that, slid into the pilot's chair. He stared down at the console for a moment before finally lifting his head and turning it slowly towards his captain.
Caid looked up from his wounds and tossed the half-empty bottle of ointment to the ground, rising to his feet and taking a step forward in response to Mercer's cryptic motions. If the Lieutenant wanted a fight, he wasn't far from getting one.
Taking the cue from Caid, Mercer touched a finger to the pilot console and braced himself. The emergency thrusters kicked in, thrusting the small ship out and into a diving flight path... Caid was thrown to the rear wall of the shuttle, where he tried to reclaim his balance in the Last few seconds before the shuttle smashed back into the ground. He stumbled to his hands and knees in an attempt to save equilibrium, and looked up to be met with a solid kick to the head before blacking out.
Mercer slowly turned and released the weakened seal on the doorway before stepping out into the comforts of the storm...
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Caid's eyes fluttered open and his ears perked slightly, listening to the raindrops as he laid perfectly still on the shuttle's floor. It was still night, so he had not been out for long... or so he wagered. Through the open shuttle door he could see the muddy terrain below him and the rain pouring down above him, yet he saw no signs of Mercer. Small puddles of murky water formed a tight trail, and Caid assumed they were the footprints of his pilot. He reached over to activate the shuttle's spot-light, but very little power was flowing within the small craft, and the light did not respond.
He then tried the distress beacon to no avail. For that, he blamed himself, as the beacon would normally have priority power. Due to his prior efforts to get the emergency propulsion Online, however, he had to circumvent this... And now it had come back around to bite him in the ***. He was stranded.
With a hollow sigh, he released the communicator from his belt and opened it, making a vain attempt to broadcast his position... Prior to the mission he had been given specific orders, but of course that had to change, or he'd end up just like everyone else on this dying rock. Hearing no response from his communicator, he tucked it away again and slipped into a new coat, drawing the hood tightly around his face and neck for protection before sliding his Machman into its holster. As he secured a pair of gloves and a flashlight, he reminded himself that his mission now was clear: To hunt and torture Ryan Mercer, if found alive.
Captain Caid hopped down from the shuttle's deck and started to track through the mud, following the flooded footprints of Lieutenant Mercer. Rain assaulted him constantly, but to his relief it was coming from behind him, much like the wind, making for an easier journey. The light stayed fixed ahead of him as he trodded, his hazel eyes scanning through the luminated night for signs of the treacherous crewman.
He stopped dead cold as his light was reflected in the distance against a huge wall, the apparent remains of an old building. He treaded further on as his curiosity peaked, now totally enthralled by the crumbling facility in the distance. It stood nearly four stories tall, however the area had been bombed at one point, cutting its height down immensely. Still however, the walls stood strong and offered shelter from the deadly rain that he had suffered through.
As Jarren neared the entrance, his senses came to life and he instinctively drew his gun, letting it be his guide as his footsteps echoed through the empty halls of the main chamber. Finally out of the rain, he felt content enough to unload his coat before he paced around the dark room, part of him knowing that Mercer couldn't have survived -- but if he had, this was the closest place of refuge...
"Ryan?..." He called out, throwing extra weight to his voice for range. It was the second time he had showed the consideration of Mercer's first name... And no response. Regardless however, Caid persisted his hunt along the bottom floor, and even managed to creep into a few of the neighboring rooms before his sense of security allowed him the honor of relaxing.
Bored and alone, Caid finally took the time to realize that in his angry haste, he had forgotten the two things he needed more than a communicator or a pistol: Food and Water. He felt a sudden wave of depression sweep over him, triggered by his own inconsideration and spite. Now far beyond stranded, he was hungry, and Mercer had to be dead... Maybe after the rain he could track back to the shuttle, but now? Not after all this... His sole reason for leaving was finding the Lieutenant, and now with that pleasure stripped of him, he had nothing to do but think... And talk.
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"...This is Captain Caid of the SS Xephyr calling any and all vessels in range. I am in distress and need assistance, please respond..." He said firmly, his communicator in hand. He had been trying for nearly a half hour, and although no response had come, he delighted in the fact that he had a much stronger signal here, as opposed to his attempts within the shuttle.
Caid had grown weary of talking to dead air when he decided to take a desperate chance on an old broadband merchant code, and after another ten minutes of hope and torture, a voice came through.
"Sola Gros, speaking. How may we be of assistance?"
Caid's eyes sparked with hope and he scrambled for the communicator, nearly shouting in response.
"My God! Thank you... Please -- if you're in the area, my shuttle has crash-landed, I'm in the Aldaan star-system... Do you copy?"
"Acknowledged, we entered the Aldaan system about twenty minutes ago. However, our vessel is fitted with Ion engines, so we may be a little slow getting there, Mr... -- What did you say it was?"
"Caid." Replied the captain, overrun with relief. "Jarren Caid. I'm on Aldaan IV, in the remains of an old facility... What's your ETA, Sola Gros?"
"Simply 'Gros' will be fine, Captain. And according to our equipment, we will arrive in another hour or so... Can you maintain?" he replied.
"Absolutely..." Caid said, conveying his smile through the tone of his voice. "And thank you."
"Not a problem, Captain. We will speak with you shortly, keep your comm open until then. Sola Gros out." And with that, the link closed... Caid issued a heavy sigh and sat back against the wall, only to sit up again as he heard a soft chanting within the abandoned facility. It sounded like a dying prayer. He drew his pistol again, taking cautious steps around the corner, where a stone spiral staircase paved the way to the next floor. He stopped in silence to listen, his eyes closing against their will to sharpen his other senses. A sickening kind of thunderclap roared from the storm outside, and as Caid finally made his way up the steps, the familiar chirp of his communicator cut him off.
"This is Caid." He replied, his eyes still scanning as best they could up the stairs.
"Captain, Sola Gros again. We are having system issues onboard, and there may be some delay in assisting you."
"A delay?... How long?" Caid's heart sunk.
"It's hard to say... There is a known flaw in older engine models, we have encountered it before. If the problem persists, we may of course have to turn back home on emergency power."
"Listen... Gros, you can't do that. I'm ****en stuck here, you hear me? I need help! I... I mean I appreciate everything, but you're my only chance outta here..."
"Captain..." Gros began, but Caid knew it was a setup for denial.
"Ok look... If its gonna come to that, can you first send a tight beam signal to the nearest station? I have a ship nearby, they need to be notified of my situation."
"Again, I'm sorry Captain, but we only have system-wide communication abilities. We cannot transmit to anyone outside Aldaan without leaving the system."
Caid closed his eyes and sighed, stepping down from the stairway to rest his forehead against the wall.
"Understood..." He heard a soft tone and opened them again, noting the red flash on his communicator. "Sola Gros... I have to terminate communications. The power cell is about dead on this thing." As he looked around at the crumbling walls, he pondered the prospect of a similar fate.
"Captain, we need you to stay on the line... You have no other sources?" came the voice of Gros. "Can you transfer power from your weapon?"
"My Machman?" Caid laughed outright. "There is a battery that controls and stores output settings, but I'm not so sure its a good trade-off..."
"I disagree, Mr Caid. We still need your coordinates, assuming we can even come to get you. Your communicator can help us localize you, and takes precedence -- you need to transfer the power cell. What good is a weapon going to do you when you're stranded? Looking for an easy way out?" the voice of Gros became a bit more heated, as if Caid's attitude was finally getting to him.
"**** that. I don't plan on taking that route, but --" He stopped as he heard the sound of skittering -- rocks or loose stones perhaps. "But I don't think I'm alone down here either, Gros... So you can see my persistence with not tossing the pistol aside..."
"Captain, I'm only trying to help. And I tire of it. I pass through this system three times a month and never has there been any real activity on that planet, please try to understand."
Caid bit his lower lip as he heard another distant whimper; he knew of course logically that Gros was right, no one was there. No one could be there... This planet was dead long before he came here, and it wasn't about to come back to life... but as he admitted in thought, perhaps that was the most unsettling thing about it. He wasted no more time delving into his insecurities and quickly swapped the power cells, leaving his gun nearly dead.
"Caid to Gros, come in. I've transferred the battery. Are you there?" He adjusted the controls, a bit surprised at the jump in output level since the new cell; he hadn't expected that kind of efficiency.
"I repeat, Caid to Gros -- Come in please." Caid waited with a fragile layer of patience, listening to idle scratches of background static. No response came, and as the next ten minutes dragged along, he found his hands playing along the grip of his pistol, sheer boredom drawing him away from the communicator.
He pondered for a moment on whether the gun had enough power left in it to discharge, and the more he considered this theory, the more eager he became to test it... A single stream of yellow light shot from the barrel and sizzled against the wall, followed by a soft cloud of gas as the beam suddenly dissipated. Caid stared down at his now-empty weapon, furious at his own ignorance on the matter.
He tossed it to the floor and picked up his communicator again, his eyes only now catching the small built-in display. Default settings restored, it read, prompting a soft groan from the weary captain. All the custom frequencies were gone; every coded Cyaan channel, the old merchant frequencies... all but a general wave distress signal had been wiped from memory and bLasted into a brick wall. Still, it was better than nothing at all, so he had to try it. He set his comm-link to the general emergency channel and started to drone into it.
"Survivor on planet of Aldaan IV, requesting assistance. One crewman lost, presumed dead... repeat, I am in need of immediate assistance..." His hope escaped him in a soft sigh, and as he got up to stretch his legs, he heard it again -- the sounds of dying lament.
Caid raced up the stone stairway and onto the second floor, into a room bereft of its rear wall. The rain swept in with the breeze and gathered in puddles along the floor, where the tattered, hunched over body of his pilot laid in waste. His back was torn to shreds, a mass of dangling skin that laid lifelessly over exposed bone and muscle. Mercer groaned again, a squall of suffering that carried throughout the chamber as Caid just watched in disgust, his eyes narrow mockeries of their former selves. He wished now that he still had his gun, both for revenge and mercy. That thing on the floor deserved to die, not only to end its own suffering, but that of anyone having to watch it cry.
"Mercer..." The captain tried to approach, but the stench drew him back and the rain continued to sweep in, occasionally showering the Lieutenant, who seemed content to die in a puddle of blood and water.
The comm chirped, but he ignored it, his eyes steady on the living corpse. It tried to move from time to time, but couldn't muster the strength, instead choosing to utter that sickening death cry. The comm chirped again and Caid snapped back to reality.
"Gros?" he queried, hope once again sparking in his voice.
"..." Static was his reply.
"Sola Gros -- this is Caid, are you there?" ...After a moment, a soft snickering sound could be heard. Caid blinked down at his communicator and raised the volume, only to hear the static return again. His patience was running thin as he shut the device and attached it again to his belt.
Caid knelt down near Mercer, staying far enough to avoid the rain he was bathing in while trying to assess the man's wounds. There would be no saving him; he had spent too much time exposed and one could only regenerate what was there to begin with. Caid thought about laying his coat over the crewman to protect what was left, but declined, deciding that it would only slow his death. Instead he watched with an almost dutiful sympathy, as it was the limit to what he could feel for this man; after all, he brought it upon himself. Repeatedly. The captain turned and walked down to the first floor, lowering his eyes as he was forced to ignore another call for mercy.
The storm picked up again outside and Caid watched the ceiling, curious as to whether some age-old support structure would collapse and let the rain come pouring down to feed on him. Heavy winds sailed through the shattered windows of the compound and picked up to a deafening pace, causing Jarren to curl into a corner for more shelter. He opened his comm-link and started transmitting, flipping manually through random frequencies in an attempt to reach someone -- anyone... He set it on auto-scan and let it repeat a recorded message from earlier, knowing the consequences if any enemy vessels chanced into range... Which on second thought, hardly mattered. "Heads you win -- Tails I lose" he thought, as he took a nearby stone and cast it against the wall. Boredom and a plea for sanity compelled him to continue, and as he spent the next half-hour throwing rocks, a call came through... Two chirps sounded and Caid grabbed his communicator from the floor, opening the channel to listen in silent apprehension.
The static spiked into a harsh squeal, which quickly focused into a discordant, drawn out voice, almost taunting in nature as it whispered throatily.
"Radio Silence! Radio Silence!" ...static piped in for a moment, cutting off the raspy echoes, before giving way again... "What the hell is your problem -- hell is your problem, Ry -- Ryan" it mocked, squealing in twisted pitches as it cut up his own words and spit them back at him... It flashed him back to his earlier conversation as a violent fit of snickering sounded through the speakers. "Sola Gros -- Sola Gros -- Please Come in"... The voice continued, sick chuckles echoing not far behind.
"Shut up!" Caid screamed, slamming the communicator against the ground and scurrying along the floor away from it. At this point, he doubted ever having spoken to a man named Gros when the comm beeped twice -- still very much active as it cut in the speaker again.
"C-C-Coward! C-C-Coward!" it teased, stuttering on the words as if caught in an endless loop. "In distress -- Need assistance." Thousands of voices all cackled in harmony as Caid jumped to his feet and stomped the heel of his boot into his communicator. The sounds refused to die, drawing him upstairs and away from the deafening madness...
He stopped cold in horror, as he watched the decrepit body of Lieutenant Mercer rise up and turn to face him. Caid crept along the wall with fear-struck eyes, refusing to go back downstairs, but too wildly unsure of how to respond to the sight. Was it real? Mercer lurched forward, whimpering the name of his captain in a plea for help.
"Oh.. God" Caid stammered, eyes closed as he tried to shut the image out of his mind. "Make it stop... make it stop..." he repeated, only to open his eyes again.
"Please..." Mercer begged, and his foot gave way as he stepped closer, dropping him to one knee to swipe a mutilated claw at his captain... Caid shuffled away and turned, coughing a suppressed breath onto the floor in disgust as he looked up at the steady rain... It continued to flutter in with in the wind and he laid there, listening to the struggling Mercer and the echo of laughter from below as his mind raced... He stumbled to his feet and ran towards the open wall, the sting of burning his welcome as he leaped from the second floor... A snap sounded as he landed in the mud below, the apparent breaking of bone as his leg twisted under the weight of his fall... He looked up and outstretched his arms to the rain, sobbing in soft relief as the scalding water showered him with burns... The pain started to fade and warmth crept in, offering Caid the momentary flash of heaven before death... It came to him in the form of a blinding light, assaulting him from high above. Closer and closer it grew until the entire area around him was a bright blur or luminance. A loud humming throbbed and vibrated from all around and in his absence of senses, Caid could do nothing but give in to the forces that shrouded him as his body grew numb...
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"I've got him..." Larece offered, dancing hands of silk along the scanning console onboard Shuttle craft 2. Dylan Shapiro sat next to her, his own hands on the helm control as he lowered the shuttle down next to the kneeling Captain. They had never planned on coming to the planet themselves, but after receiving a number of broadband transmissions from an apparently hysterical Caid, Shapiro ordered that another shuttle be prepped and launched within the hour. As they landed, Larece leaped up to kill the spot-light and released the seal on the cabin door, rolling it open and bypassing the ramp as she extended a hand to Jarren.
Caid's eyes flooded with life as he saw the face of Bernadette Larece... He hoisted himself up from the mud and grasped her hand, using the leverage to help draw him into the confines of the shuttle. The rain grazed Larece and she uttered a quick murmur of pain as she shut the door, blocking out any further incursions of the storm. She brought the medkit down and laid Caid back on the shuttle's lounge chair, nodding once to Shapiro to confirm that she was ready. The shuttle quickly lifted again, turning and coming to full speed as it panned along the planet at 20,000 feet...
"Larece..." Shapiro called over his shoulder, preferring not to look at the scarred up Captain. "I've found two masses of organic matter, both lifeless. One is definitely Mercer, the other most likely was the lost shuttle pilot, as there isn't much left of him... I see no reason to bring corpses onboard." He brought the shuttle to a higher altitude as he prepared to leave the atmosphere of Aldaan IV. "How's Caid holding up back there? Making a mess in my shuttle?"
"He's suffered neural shock..." She began, "A 'psi-lapse' if you will. Many of his brain functions have shut down, more than likely a defensive reaction. I'm giving him an injection now, it'll calm his nerves until we can get him back onboard and into the med bay... Your friend should be fine, Commander." She offered, spotting his hidden concern from a mile away.
Shapiro smiled at the assurance as he lifted up and away from Aldaan IV. Caid had quite a report of failure to submit to the Cyaan Syndicate, but he was still alive, which was more than could be said about any other soul that ventured to the fourth planet in this lonely system.
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...Aldaan IV, a crimson tomb to millions of broken lives and slaughtered souls. Now joining their ranks is Ryan Mercer, a victim of bloodlines and curiosity gone awry. Left behind still is a mental fragment of Jarren Caid in the form of a smashed communicator. It goes by the name of Sola Gros, in case you should ever find yourself alone on Aldaan IV, desperately in need of company -- and hope. Until next we meet, this has been... the Cylapse.
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[ August 14, 2002, 23:03: Message edited by: Cylapse ]
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-the Kaiser
You are now experiencing what we call... a Cylapse.
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