The tears, I am recovering what I can for this story, so be patient.
I believe I lost three segments.
"Zigeris, remember when we tried backing out of this dock and crashed?" "Yeah, good times," "Hey do you think we can get something to eat?" "Where at?" "Zig we are out of milk." Sometimes when you face death or even witness it the more meaningless thoughts enters your mind. For the men and women in battle often they're haunted not by thoughts of losing their life, but rather the thought that their life was meaningless. Thousands of bodies float invisible in space from hundreds of years worth of conflict. Each body waiting for the war to end all wars. Many of the old Foundation politicians believed the Black Eye Project to be that tool, to end war. In a perverted twist of logic and theory, the Black Eye was war to fight war. Ultimate victory would surely secure Sirius for the Foundation. Now plagued with uncertainty farther than ever before. A feeling of hopelessness and succession fills the halls and town centers all over democratic nations. Planet Denver suffer greatly between the economical gap between the wealthy and the poor. Riots broke out and marshal law has been enacted six times since the Fort Bush bombing of 816AS. These riots were not sponsored by the Foundation or Gothera. They were sponsored with the idea of pending implosion of society. Zigeris stands in front of the Capital building as the LSF was ordered to be a peace bearing mediator between the government and the civilian populace. Zigeris was fond of the Colorado system, ever since he was a child. He lived in Aspen Heights, city hit the hardest in the riots, for a short time before going space side and living on designated LSF bases or aboard military ships. His thoughts race around has he examines the crowd shaking their fists, and shouting. At a point it the crowd blurred and waves formed on their horizon. "Zigeris remember when?" echoed in his mind. Certainly, and before his main deployment, Zigeris has face death, but never so close that he felt the cost of dying. A man had shot him. He died for 13 seconds. In combat 13 seconds is enough to decide 1,000 lives on who lives or who dies. A pilot does not have the luxury to wait 13 seconds. Though facing this new war, and this new enemy in front of him, Zigeris has 13 seconds of memories. His Alpha Centria machine twirls about to avoid the easy barrages of anti aircraft fire from nearby ships, but they were passive moves as if he was toying with them. The new enemy C'Zetta was far more an opponent than anything Zigeris has ever encountered. Dipping in and out both of them seemed to be in their own battlefield jousting like olden knights from 14th century. Equal in design, both crafts created a spectacle for observers who forgotten that they were at war. The machines colors of purple and red splash the black sea around them as their shields flex their might against powerful weapons, creating a continuations cloud of light.
Teyzon , piloting the C'Zetta, decides to take a risk and approach the Alpha Centria from underneath to take out the shield generator. The risk paid off as the Alpha Centria was not able to counter the assault from the mobile arms of the C'Zetta. "I got you now!" Teyzon shouted. Zigeris pulls back stunned at the ability of the machine, and his own lack of foresight. Over the console warning of power loss rings into Zigeris' ears, the damage creates a small explosion that catapults both of them in polar opposite directions. "Damn," Zigeris mutters under his breath and begins to sweat. Without shutter the C'Zetta comes back in mythical speed to finish what was started, Zigeris had no breath, no heartbeat, no thought. It was too quick. In a jerk reflex Zigeris takes his hand over the controls and allowed his fear to control him. Usually fear makes cowards, though in battle fear drives the person to live. Zigeris had no time to decide what fear meant to him, he was in danger and the term fear was just static. His machine spins into the jousting arm of the C'Zetta with enough force to separate the housing from the main chassis. "Breath don't forget to breath" A shuttering crack screams outward from his cockpit. The C'Zetta was gone. "Did I do it?" Unbeknownst to Zigeris the C'Zetta can swap arms and Teyzon manage to dislodge the damaged arm before it exploded creating the perfect distraction for him to counter. "Sorry kid your time is up! MUAHAHAHAHA!" Teyzon blatantly violates the comm waves. "Alpha Centria, Brother will change war forever. It's a system designed to take what we desire most and turn it into a machine. To live at all cost." Zigeris was out maneuvered suffering another hit from the C'Zetta. "Do you want to die?" A question that entered his mind without any form of personal attachment. If my brother did as he said then do I not truly desire to live? Zigeris questioned, what was his purpose in life. Did he make a difference, will this battle change the course of history? "The purpose of life is to live to see the end of it, keep your eyes open!" A warm feeling takes Zigeris and the cockpit begins to glow golden and a light appears ahead of him. "I don't want to die, my purpose isn't to die." The light is coming at him with intent to kill the C'Zetta has lost its form and is merely a desire. The Alpha Centria springs to motion dodging what would have been the final blow. "The *****?!" Teyzon scuffed. Zigeris now takes control and reigns in on the surprise of his foe by locking the main cannon to the exposed, damaged, side of the C'Zetta. "It's FINISHED!" An unconquerable light gleams from the nose of the Alpha Centria striking both friend and foe big and small directly into the path of the C'Zetta. No way out the blast consumes the C'Zetta entirely. Silence as long as the dual itself. 13 seconds...
"Hey son, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the medical center. Your mother would have been here, hell or high water. The doctor told me they your heart stopped for a length of time, well don't die. Please don't die. Least don't do it before I do. I'm damn proud of you."
"Dad."
"I have to leave now, orders from the top. You know that case I've been working on, tied with Rockefeller?"
"Dad!"
"Zigeris, I have to tell you something and I need you to stay strong for me ok? Mom is dead."
"DAD!"
"Zigeris, quite now. There is a right time for everything. Days gone by, a time for that too. The past had its time and the future owes nothing to it."
"Dad are you alive?"
The wave of energy pushes debris and ships like a rock hitting a cold fall pond. Much like the one on Planet Denver. Rolled away the exertion of physical and mental force passes Zigeris into a twilight haze. He survived 13 seconds. He almost forgot the reason he was out here, instead of being back at LSF. "Dad, where are you?" Rumors reported that the Black Eye also takes snap shots of every minute passing. In theory he could track his father's last known days. Days that seemed to be routine, and the millionth time his father had to leave him alone. Days that seemed so meek, now are the very life treasure he seeks. Treasure of life is seeking the truth.
Gothera now piloting his Gurel Z’et , a customized C’Zetta quickly dispatches any non friendly vessel he came encountered with. The battle has spread out so far that it was hard to tell if there was still a conflict. Ahead of Gothera is the L’Cella flag ship preparing to land first on the Black Eye along with Rockefeller. The Black Eye system spans a five mile cylinder and one mile wide in diameter. It has two docking bays, Rockefeller captures the other port leaving Gothera no choice than to force his way through either one of the cruisers. The L’Cella was closer, yet it appeared to still have plenty of fight left in her. Gothera rolls Gurel Z’et passed a volley of fire before aiming his port side cannon at the source of fire. “Eat this!” Gurel Z’et growls before firing several beams straight into the hall of the cruiser. Expecting it to explode Gothera darts off toward the ship, expecting to fly straight through the fireball. He could imagine what it would look like as the Gurel Z’et splashed up from the fire onto his foes. Though the hardy ship held on for one more volley nearly catching Gothera off guard forcing him to change course, seeking refuge behind various debris. “*****, how much longer till the rest get here?” Gothera uses the break in the volley to speed past the wounded ship and enter inside the docking bay. Gothera opens his hatch and steps out.
“Don’t move buddy,” a dark figure in the corner emerges. Despite saying this Gothera already has his weapon drawn and pointed at the unknown figure.
“Seems this is a party,” another voice enters the forum, revealing his weapon pointed at the dark figure.
“Well hell,” Zigeris steps into the light with his weapon drawn.
“Glad I brought both my pistols then, hence the name, am I late?” Rick Dora says calmly raising his weapons towards both Rockefeller, who is the dark figure lurking from the corner and Gothera.
“I don’t know all of you, but I am sure this won’t end well.” Lord Prominence loudly proclaims while drawing his second weapon.
“I only want Rockefeller rest of you I could care less, but it looks like we have ourselves a good old fashioned Mexican standoff.” Rick smirks as he finishes his sentence.
“So now what,” Zigeris looks to Rick seemingly knowing that they wouldn’t exchange gunfire, hopefully he thinks to himself.
“Obviously I’m going to kill you one by one,” Gothera speaks up “then take the Black Eye.”
“The hell is Black Eye.” Rick flips the safeties off his drawn golden pistols.
Everyone looks at him, and wonders who he was and how he got here. Having him ask such a question made him out of place. Rick had a feeling he was intruding on a bigger picture, a much greater story than his own personal revenge.
“Put your gun down kid this isn’t your place to be,” Rockefeller says to Rick. Seemingly the thought of the bigger picture becomes mute and Rick sees no real reason to back down, he only had two pistols pointed at him, and every gun on Rockefeller. Even if he manages a non fatal shot on him it would set off a firecracker and sure he’d end up killed. Of course that’s relying on the aim of others. Though through this awkward silence in front of muzzles alliances have drawn up and nonverbal cues erected between him and Zigeris. A slight nod by the both of them they quickly take cover as gunfire erupts.
Finding the same barrel to hide behind Rick and Zigeris meet.
“Ok, friend you’re not my enemy so who are you?”
“LSF, formerly I am Zigeris.”
“I’m Double Gun Rick Dora, Rockefeller killed my wife, that’s why I am here.”
Gunfire continues as the three exchange shots from either source.
“I’m sorry he did that, I knew that guy when I was in school. Corrupt as *****, what’s the plan.”
“Yeah, well no clue figure they’d run out of bullets soon. I don’t care about what this is, this battle, or this stupid black soda can that wrecked my ship. I crashed into it, I mean who was the genius to paint a station black...in space.” Zigeris stares blankly at him.
Short on breath Rockefeller takes a moment behind cover to swap out magazines and begins to fire a few more rounds aimlessly from behind the barrier. Really just contributing to the other gunfire that, too, was more for show than to actually sink a round. The noise from the guns was more appealing than awkward silent staring contest with a bunch of strangers. Gothera though had a clearer point to engage the gunfire, it allowed him to slip past the docking bay and into the main airlock. Lord Prominence catches on and attempts to do the same, though harder to do when you’re the only other one shooting.
Rockefeller finally takes a peek over the cover only to find a barrel staring at him. “Don’t even say a word...” Rick fully engages the hammer on his pistol. “Who are you anyway?” Rockefeller still not grasping the danger he is in. “You terrorized and murdered hundreds of people, who I am is the blood you spilled and now will choke on.” Rockefeller in mid thought dies before even a thought could be finished. Rick lowers his weapon and looks to see where the gunshot came from, a crew member from the L’Cella had taken the shot.
“Probably did you a favor,” Zigeris quietly preaches “this sort of revenge seeking is never satisfied. He was a traitor, but he is dead.” Rick shrugs off and steps away from the body. Zigeris quickly shoves Rick into the airlock and closes the hatch before the L’Cella crewmen could reach them.
“What is the Black Eye anyway...” Rick slowly asks. A severe depression sinks into him knowing sure well he wasted his chance to get the blood of Rockefeller on his hands. His entire mission, now, is over.
“It’s a spy system from what I heard anytime, anywhere watching us. I believe it has records of the last whereabouts of my father. I also believe Rockefeller was involved.”
“And those other two? Spying is one thing, not enough for a battle this large.”
“Suppose it's some kind of weapon too,” Zigeris not really sure, but his gut feeling that his role has evolved to stopping either one of them from accessing the Black Eye system.
“Do you think it has any record of my wife? I haven’t seen her in four years.”
“I couldn’t tell you.”
Zigeris and Rick make it pass the airlock straight into another stand off.
“...the people have the right to live without fear!”
“It’s impossible for people not to be afraid, and that is food for my soul!” Gothera and Lord Prominence exchange words as well as bullets. Gothera sees Zigeris and Rick and begins to shoot at them as well. Zigeris and Rick return fire.
“Stop the shooting, or I’ll kick all your sorry asses off my Black Eye.” A voice appears over the comm. Suddenly a haze fills the room, everyone slowly succumbs to a weakness in the muscles and heaviness in their eyes.
When awaken each are disarmed and locked into a different room. A room with nothing in it. Gothera, Prominence, Rick and Zigeris sit on the floor recovering from the chemical used.
“I am Dr. Benlare and you my wonderful people, are late.”
Gothera immediately reaches for his concealed weapon in the buckle of his belt to his alarm he found it missing.
“16:45:78 822AS at West Hall sector Orkney Outcast forward base Kirkwall, by John Garcia working overtime to finish your custom knife, Richard.” Gothera looks up to see the speaker. “Yes, did you know he made two? Also, no, you didn’t set your keys on your desk they’re actually still in the cargo freighter you stole for your 817AS diamond heist. You were a rookie then. Lord Prominence, despite being so valorous you have done well to live a careful life. Though you’ve sold your life short when you accepted Manhattan York College. Plus, your insecurities with your former girlfriend did spill into your current love life, the fact that you haven’t been on a single date in eight years. Eight. Don’t get me started Zigeris, watching you has been like a poorly budgeted cowboy film. Did you really think it was such a good idea to fly faster than your torpedoes? Rick, your rust bucket prison liner is still where you left it, sitting in the Sigma 13 system. You actually still have substantial money sitting on it too. Though your debt is so far out of touch that even selling the Dora would be stupid to do. You’d be homeless trying to pay off your debt.”
Everyone stunned by the display of intimate details of their lives. Only Rick decided to muse himself, “You’re joking, all this time I’ve been hustling to put together another ship. Thanks for the tip grandpa.”
“If you want I can even tell you where the Ocrasus is this very second.” Rick is now thoroughly impressed with how much this mystery man knows.
The Battle of Black Eye has crossed the eight hour marker an exhausting fight for three fleets. Despite Rockefeller’s fleet losing the majority there was no sign of retreat. Yet, in a twist, Rockefeller’s fleet mistakenly regrouped with the Zuel Star forces against the Crossbones. The combining of forces has this already too long of battle a deadlock. Pilots passed out in their crafts many military leaders question if the battle could continue. But unwavering hearts are the souls of pilots and many desire to fight on. In normal circumstances pilots don’t get their ace kill (20th) until late in their career. This battle 20 kills per pilot seemed to be the norm. Zuel Star Fleet and the remaining forces of Rockefeller once again form a bowl spear formation to go on the offensive against the Crossbones usual tactic of being the pusher. For the first time the Crossbones would be in defensive mode rather offensive. Crossbone reinforcements are filtering in from the rear and haven’t been fully utilized which causes the spear formation to be effective. The added numbers to the Crossbone fleet only refreshed the minds of the pilots. Some even thought they were replacing the active skirmish line and battle tired pilots would ‘tag in’ the new arrivals. Resulting in a disabled defensive strategy. For the moment it appears to Gothera they’re losing this battle. He watches from a monitor resting on a wall from the room he is locked in.
“Interesting, seems that once you’re out of the way Richard, Gothera, your military resorts to former tactics that you’ve proven to be flawed. You would think they’d know. Come to think of it you would picture them just like you. That would be easy. No, this Black Eye cannot be used as the weapon you seek. Yes it is a weapon. It was designed nearly 200 years ago for the sole purpose of attacking Liberty and taking their resources. Back when the Foundation thought they could bypass the conventional war using such a weapon like myself and the Black Eye. 173 years later you all found this, and me here. To again try to bypass conventional war and secure Sirius for yourselves. Well not all of you. My point is I’ve changed the programming. I am the programming. It responds to my desires, my wills, and my intelligence. I’ve waited 173 years to finish what I started, I am the war to end all wars. To use the Black Eye...for your own desires it simply will not work.”
“My men will have your doors down soon enough old man, I’m sure you know what will happen after than.” Gothera snares at the figure in the monitor.
“Yes, I do see many at the doors. Each one of them I can see everything about them.
It almost seem each visitor on the Black Eye system has met some sort of religious figure or least a mystic with a future telling orb. Despite their feeling the truth is far from it. There is no mythical power behind the Black Eye or any divine power. Simply a design worth its weight in gold. It’s more a history book than a military weapon. Hundreds of years recorded into its mainframe. It has the ability to find any battlefield big and small from the last 233 years. Any exit or entry to any planet at any time in Sirius. Track someones entire life from start to finish. It truly seems to be divine, no fault for anyone thinking so. However they cursed themselves for wanting to ask simple and difficult questions. This is war they thought no time to see if they will win the lottery.
“Now, if you be civil you can see the system core. Then you can leave.” For an old man, of 173 years, he seemed full and lively. Unbeknownst to them he has spent 150 years alone on the Black Eye. To Dr. Benlare seeing anyone in person good or bad was somewhat exciting. Benlare spent the last 100 years wanting to get off the Black Eye, but the Foundation wouldn’t send a replacement. Too risky and would require to inform more people who simply didn’t need to know about the system. Strangely having others on board the Black Eye made him less willing to let go.
Mostly due to the engagement required for social acceptance. Living in a box with artificial light and genetically modified foods, no outloud communication, disposes you to being strange. However, Dr. Benlare knew this was an issue with solitude so he prepped himself each day kept his hygiene, strength, and communication with others keen. At first he developed a program just for arguing. Any subject he could think of that was still debatable. Then a program for counseling. If he ever had a bad time he’d confide within that program. All with verbal and nonverbal cues that humans knowingly and unknowingly project while in typical interaction. The action worked. Surviving over a hundred years without going insane or killing himself. Time now has come for him to move on, “I’ll probably die,” he thought thinking about how well he took care of himself.
“Count me out wind bag, just open the door and let me go,” Rick scuffs has he paces around the room.
“Certainly... then you’ll go your entire life without ever seeing your wife again.” Dr. Benlare tried not to make it sound like a threat or provoking the thoughts of lost. There was simply no better way to say it in the confined time they all have.
“You *****, what did you say to me?” Rick now stands on a chair and shakes his fist at the screen.
“You want to see her, this is the only place to do it. And if you’re really nice I can even take the data off the mainframe and put it on a portable drive. That way you can take her with you wherever you go.” Upon hearing this Rick felt a emerging rush of happiness.
“Can...can you really do that?” Rick trying to muffle the crack in his voice and the clutch in this throat.
“Yes, I see Rockefeller is dead, shame I was going to show him something awfully special. The destruction of his personal yacht by LSF agents. Happened about an hour ago. All his personal items... molten metal now.”
Lord Prominence was more quiet now. None of this has gone to plan and his forces are working on a way to break into the Black Eye. He must play the hands right so that the Black Eye and his crewmen make it out together.
“Let’s go, I will not attack Gothera. This can be a revealing experience for all of us, and perhaps give us a path to peace.” Prominence gently preach.
“Well sure beats being stuck in this room all day.” Zigeris stands up and puts his thumb high into the sky.
“Richard, you’re going to stay put you have a gift as well.” Dr. Benlare isn’t stupid enough to allow him into the central core of the Black Eye. Despite his measure against Gothera Crossbone Special Forces are already landing on the Black Eye. Gothera, before entering the Black Eye, changed how they were going to take the Black Eye. Since the battle was nearly over it made no sense to use the Black Eye’s massive solar weapon ability on such a limp remaining fleet. Their plan is to tow the Black Eye out of sync with the mirrors and bring it to their research base. There they can reprogram the system and resync the mirrors as well as develop new abilities for the Black Eye.
“Screw you too old man.” Gothera lurking through a small port window occasionally catching a few flashing from the battle outside. “I’ve already won...Sirius is mine”
A hand taps the window port from the outside. Crossbone Special Forces are career invaders, raiders, infiltrators. There hasn’t been a single facility that the CSF attacked and was unsuccessful. Their birth came from the 816AS Fort Bush Bombing, and assassination of a political criminal while in LSF custody in Fairbanks prison. It wasn’t an undercover job, what the news media failed to report that the attack was brute force. Majority of the coverage was focus on Fort Bush, which suffered the most in casualties. Sirius is in grave danger now that the CSF is aboard the Black Eye.
Each man pressed against the side of the Black Eye sway back and forth as they place small explosives around the air lock. Like a silent movie communications were heavily influence by hand gestures. The team lead gives the “thumbs up,” and thrusts backwards then jolting turning away from the airlock. The explosion caves in the air lock at first but eventually all debris is cleared out. The origins of the special forces birthed years before the conflict. Built from war proven and politically motivated leaders the special forces epitomized modern military technique. Both in piloting, firefights, and hand to hand combat. They’re more like a brotherhood than a portion of the military itself. The special forces train most of the new recruits, with success. Their objective is to seize control of the Black Eye and make it operational for Lord Gothera.
Dr. Benlare takes his pen out of his coat breast pocket and uses it to scratch his forehead. “So your pets have arrived? Though I wouldn’t celebrate so soon Gothera. Even if you take the Black Eye you still need access codes to the core computer. And the remaining Foundation has already been notified of the breach, House governments are already been dispatched the location. It’s only a matter of time before they send a fleet. Too large for you to handle, even with your new toys.” Benlare sets the pen down and leans closer to the monitor looking over Gothera’s room. “You could take it, kill me, and hack your way into the system, but even then you wouldn’t have the time to use the Black Eye. It’s not even ready for what you believe it can do. 34 hours until the BAF reaches here, should they not get intercepted by our Gallian friends. LSF would take about ten hours to send scouts. There is no way the Crossbones could stand in a eye for eye match against the third of the Liberty Forces. Which, of course, is why you’re here. Do you really think your brother died and served a purpose? Or just died to sooth his own idiotic idealism?” Gothera now turns away from watching his forces entering from the far end of the airlock. He picks up a small globe. This globe is a replica of what earth was suspected to look like in current age. Gothera picks it up and raises it to the monitor and crushes it with one hand. The dust begins to slide down his cold hand before beginning to rise like fog. “I see your men neutralized the gravity field. You’re not so talkative? Not nervous?” Gothera grins “The victor doesn’t need to defend itself with words when his sword is pressed firmly against your heart.”
Dr. Benlare merits Gothera's poetry accounting for the days he was in the army, a sum of over 130 years ago. Accounting how brimming to the top with youthful fight. Though not completely missing that Gothera's fight was more demonic inspired fits. Benlare had time to study his foes before they arrived. Gothera a perfect student of guerrilla warfare he thought to himself. The gesture of crushing the globe of the old world was more symbolic for Benlare's acceptance of his failures as a human than being killed by Gothera and his special forces.
Crossbone Special Forces already breached the main hall. With flares in hand, as the main lighting system had now be shut off, they EVA through the corridors towards the central computer, where Benlare resided. Knowing the Black Eye Computer system was designed to never be erasable, Benlare knew it could be shut down and encrypted. Which he began. Unfortunately, again knowing the system the Black Eye's motor system was completely ancient and could be manually engaged. Leaving that his attempt to disable the weapon system would only be a tempory delay.
Gothera now radios on open frequency so that everyone in the station could hear him communicate orders to his special forces. On purpose so that everyone can hear their eventual death be orchestrated.
Zigeris listening is not being put off but rather motivated to get out of his confinement. Rick even more motivated to leave the empty room, but not to get off the station. He would do anything to see his wife one more time. "Ok ok screw everything else going on here. Tell me what you want ME to do. You have the data drive, I have no desire to take, use, harm you, let anyone else go through. I just want to see my wife." Rick blared as loud as he could.
"Rick I would grant you passage, however, the Special Forces have already moved too far in. This system cannot be deleted, and the encryption cannot be broken without me. Though, design flaw, I don't need to be alive for it to be decrypted. Work for me, and I will dispatch armor and weapons. Kill the Special Forces and you will get your data card." Benlare positioned.
Rick knowing that was almost as good as accepting suicide. Holds his breath for a moment as Benlare continued. "I know it's a tall order. I know you've been haunted by the dark of your soul for many years after your wife's death. You couldn't bring yourself to kill yourself, despite your attempts, you always wanted it out of your control. To say you didn't give up but have it happen anyway. This is a win-win. I will not pretend that all these years trapped in this death machine that I have found a higher understanding of human emotions. I know enough to see what pain is, and loss. I know the desire to die without being able to die.'
Rick hangs his head against the panel under the monitor. He is a broken man who wants to die but is too stubborn to die. Rick fills with purpose. His body tenses as if he had a shot of steroids. A flush sensation overcomes him. "Heh. You really know how to con yourself a body guard on the fly. Well today is as good as any day to die, that includes you my friend. F*** it dust to dust."