OT: Hell is For Heroes.

[AgentZero]

Hey folks, I'm just working on a wee story at the moment. Thoughts and comments are welcome, as always. The story is set shortly after a massive Terran-Tauren War, in which both sides were decimated. That's about all the backstory I've come up with, so enjoy!




Almec Thrusian stumbled though the corridor, dragging a frightened girl behind him as he watched his world falling apart. A girder crashed through the ceiling, and the girl saved him from a particularly messy death by pulling him backwards with surprising strength. They pushed on through the narrow opening between the girder and the wall, rounded the corner and crashed into a suitably terrified Joss Maiken.
“Mr. Thrusian!” Joss exclaimed. “You're hurt!”
“Thank you for noticing, Mr. Maiken,” Almec replied dryly. In truth, he was far beyond just hurt. His right arm seemed to have a few too many joints, every agonizing breath reminded him of his broken ribs, and he was now convinced that there was more of his blood on his clothes than inside him.
“Take her to the jump-pod,” he said through gritted teeth. “Launch the pod and join me on the bridge.”
“We need to get you to Medical,” Joss stammered. “After that we can-”
“No!” snapped Almec. “Take her to the pod. There's nothing that can be done for me now. Either of us,” he added quietly.
“But-”
“I'm dead already, Mr. Maiken, my body just hasn't realized it yet. Now go.”

Joss took the girl by the hand and began hurrying down the corridor. After a few steps he stopped and turned.
“Mr. Thrusian!” he called. “The jump-pod is the only one left. She must go alone, I know, but what of the rest of us?”
Almec's mouth parted in a bloody smile. “Why, we die gloriously, of course.”
Moving as quickly as he could, he made his way to the bridge, stumbling and falling time and time again, each time wondering if he'd have the strength to drag himself up again. But again and again, he pulled himself to his feet, and arrived on the bridge in time to hear the frightened comm officer report the successful launch of the jump-pod. Unnoticed, he eased himself into a point-defense station and took over from the two lieutenants slumped dead at their consoles.

“This is the TNS Galahad,” the comms officer began speaking into her pickup. “Hailing any ships in range. We are under heavy fire. We've lost shields, the captain is-”
“Nobody is coming, Lieutenant,” Almec said sharply.
All eyes on the bridge snapped to him. The comm officer nervously cut the channel, and the navigator seated in the captain's chair rose quickly.
“Sir,” he said nervously. “As the ranking officer here, you should be in command, even if you are ret-”
“Shut up and get out of my chair,” Almec said quietly. The navigator gratefully retreated to his station, and Almec lowered himself tiredly into the command chair. “It's been a while,” his whispered, patting the chair affectionately. “What do you say? Once more into the breach, dear friend?”

“Sir?” Only the comms officer was seated close enough to hear him.
Ignorning her, he spoke so the whole bridge could hear him. “I know what many of you are thinking, and you're wrong. I can't get you out of this. I cannot pull off a miracle escape. I can only give you death.” He paused for breath, and ignoring his body's cries of protest, pushed himself to sit upright. “But I will not give you an ordinary death. I shall give you a death glorious enough to outshine the stars, a death that will be spoken of for generations. And most importantly, I will make damn sure that they-” he jabbed a finger at the tactical plot showing the three vessels chasing them “-aren't the one's talking about it.”

A quick glance at his chair's readouts showed that the Galahad's chase armaments had been completely destroyed. As had most of her broadside. But her forward guns, and most importantly, three of her forward launchers were still fully operational.
“Nav,” he snapped. “Prepare to bring us about.”

Aboard a small canister floating through space, the girl stared out as the Galahad turned with surprising speed to face her attackers. Her forward guns blazed in defiance of the withering fire pouring down on her armored hull. Three sparks of white light suddenly shot out from her, each heading for one of her attackers. At such close range, a missile made an unstoppable weapon, and two of the ships disintegrated into expanding balls of light. The third, heavily damaged, continued to close on the Galahad, who refused to relent, charging straight at her foe. Too late, her adversary realized she had no intent of breaking off and began to turn away. Seconds later, the Galahad slammed into her amidships. There was a bright flash of light that drowned out the stars- and with the crackle of discharging energy, the jump-pod's drive activated, and the girl was suddenly alone in the dark.

[Fyron]

An interesting beginning. I await more.

[narf poit chez BOOM]

Oh man. I don't know wether to strangle you or shake your hand.

Oh well. I have two arms. I can do both.

...

[AgentZero]

Well, Fyron, as the first person to post any sort of comment, you get a star system named after you. A nice one, even. The status of the Narf system is pending while I await clarification as to whether or not you like the story.

Admiral Angus McArthur eased back in his command chair and surveyed the tactical plot in front of him. His Command Fortress sat at the tip of a cone of fortresses that faced the Pellus System's jump nexus. The fortifications guarded the sole link between the Terran Imperium and the Tauran Sovereignty. This fact alone had kept it safe from the scores of demilitarization bills Congress kept thrusting under the Empress's regal nose. She fought them, McArthur had to give her that, fought them with a ferocity that belied her lineage. Yet even from hundreds of light-years away, he could tell they were wearing her down. Every battle won was another line etched in her face, and in the month between today and her last transmission, she seemed to have aged years. He knew it was only a matter of time before his command felt the cold blade of budget cuts, but still, the Empress had managed a few spectacular victories.

One of those victories flashed into existence at the system's main jump gate. Opening a rift between normal and null-space required astronomical amounts of energy, more than even the biggest ship's reactor could hope to produce, which was why most ships traveled using jump nexuses. The weakness in the barrier between the two allowed ships to make the transit with minimal energy expenditure. Unfortunately, a jump nexus was usually situated on the outskirts of a solar system, which meant ships using the nexus got to look forward to two or three days of sublight travel before reaching inhabited planets. Centuries before, some clever soul decided to solve this problem by building a network of massive bases near a system's core worlds that had the power to open a null-space rift. Thus, all authorized traffic arrived through the gates, and anything coming through the nexus itself was ensured an extremely warm welcome. McArthur tapped a few keys on his command console and brought up a detailed scan of the recent arrival.

The TSN Raezel, new flagship of the Terran Space Navy, named in honour of the Empress, was the single largest mobile platform of destruction ever created. Her firepower rivaled even that of McArthur's colossal fortresses, though she was only about a quarter their size. A smile spread across the admiral's face as her commander requested permission to come aboard for a private meeting. Admiral Ivanov Korjev would be certain to have a few bottles of proper Russian vodka. He keyed in an approval to the request, with an added apology that the ship's liquid sustenance supplies were running rather low, and his smile split into a full grin as the reply came back:
“Acknowledged. Will arrive in +4.00hrs. Liquid sustenance will be supplied.”

Five hours later, two very drunk admirals sat in McArthur's private quarters, two full shot glasses and an empty bottle of vodka sitting on the table between them.
“So, my friend,” Korjev slurred. “Have you heard the latest?
“Latest what?” McArthur asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“News, man, news!” Korjev exclaimed.
“No, no I have not heard the latest news, man, news,” replied McArthur.
Korjev shook his head. “I believe your ancestors were reputed to have a greater alcohol tolerance then what you are showing, my friend.”
McArthur stared at him for a long moment. “That's the latest news?”
“Yes, my friend, it's all over the Terran News Network.”
McArthur stared blankly at the glass in front of him. “By the Divine, my reputation. I'll be relieved of command. Or worse, they'll reassign me to some backwaters-” His drunken muttering was interrupted by Korjev's laughter.
“No, even those vultures at TNN are wise enough not to call your manhood into question,” he chuckled. “It's about the Galahad.”
McArthur's eyes snapped up at the mention of his first command. “What of her.”
“She's disappeared,” his old friend informed him. “Not a trace. Word is that SpecOps acquired her her for a very, very, very black project. She was supposed to arrive in Fyron's Star three days ago. Her flight plan was known only to her captain, so no one even knows where to look.”
“Damn,” McArthur whispered. “I hope she's alright.”
“I believe an illustrious former captain once said of her, 'If we don't show up as scheduled, we're never showing up.”
McArthur nodded slowly. “I'll drink to that.”
The two raised their glasses. “To the Galahad and her crew?”
“No,” McArthur shook his head. “To you pronouncing 'illustrious' with half a bottle of vodka in you.

[dogscoff]

Nice, I like it. I like the pace, and also the element of intrigue. A lot of SE4 fic seems to lack that.

[narf poit chez BOOM]

Of course I like it. I wouldn't want to shake you gently by the neck if that first post hadn't produced a multiplicity of emotions.

[El_Phil]

I like it. Especially the intrigue and things left hanging. Keep up the work fella.

[Puke]

i like it, but im still wondering whos going to play Steve McQueen's part.

[AgentZero]

I can do intrigue? Cool, I never knew. Anyway, here's Part 3, and hey, something big blows up!


The Tauran battlecruiser Zehkleck slipped unnoticed into the Narf Trinary System. Not thanks to any kind of stealthiness, the Taurans wouldn't know the meaning of the word, but due to the simple fact that nobody monitored the Narf System, because there was nothing left to monitor. There had once been a number of thriving colonies in the system, built in the ruins of a dead civilization. But in the dying days of the Earth-Tauran War, a colossal battle had been waged here. A Battle To End All Battles they called it. And when it was over, the Narf System was dead, every scrap of life extinguished from the surfaces of it's worlds.

However, First-Among-Fourths Plaetek had no interest in Narf's scorched worlds. It was far more interested in the wreckage it's ship's sensors had detected two light minutes out from the system's main star. The floor plates rumbled under its feet as its navigator brought the ship up to full sublight.
“Second,” Plaetek spoke to the officer beside it. “What do your eyes see?”
“Very little, First,” came the reply. “Distance still to great. Our ships, definite. Another, near certain.”
“Advise when near certain is definite,” Plaetek instructed.

Several hours passed before Plaetek's Second spoke again. “Another definite. Wreckage now. Survivability probability minimal.”
“Identity?” inquired the First.
“Transponder functional,” replied the Second. “TSN Galahad. Definite.”
Plaetek nodded slowly. “Destruction of our ships, most ungood. First-Among-Seconds will be not-pleased. Loss of target, double ungood. First-Among-Seconds will be double not-pleased. But destruction of Galahad, double double good. Redemption likely.”
The Second nodded in agreement. “Return?” it inquired.
“Return with haste,” the First instructed.
The Second returned to its station and began plotting a course back to the jump nexus. The First settled back on his hind legs to observe it's tactical plot. Tauran plots were a series of two dimensional screens, unlike the Humans 3D holographic 'tank'. Tauran minds did not function well when more than two dimensions were involved, and all their information about the three dimensional space around them was relayed via two dimensional displays. Noticing something odd, Plaetek leaned forward and tapped the tactical plot with a thick knuckle.
“Malfunction?” asked the Second, peering over the First.
“Probability high,” agreed Plaetek. On the tactical plot, the icons representing with the systems three suns were steadily growing larger, even as they moved further away. Plaetek moved to the primary command deck and requested the rest of its officers to report similar malfunctions.
“First!” one of the Thirds cried suddenly. “Malfunction probability zero!”
Plaetek's seven eyes whipped back to his plot just in time to see the three stars seemingly shrink into nothing, then expand again with terrifying speed.
“Flee!” the First ordered desperately, knowing already that it stood no chance of escaping the raging storm of destruction racing towards them. The Zehkleck was a third through her emergency turn when the combined fury of three supernovae ripped her to pieces a split second before ship was vaporized.

Two days later, James Thereaux, sleeping aboard the decommissioned assault cruiser Daedalus was woken from a most pleasant dream by the spectacular death of a star system.

[Ragnarok]

Wow. Most excellent story I must say. Keep it up!