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To Fly With Valkyries - Rudo - 03-23-2009
Light.
The air was thick, a choking total blackness. The smell of bad food, stale water and human waste hed gotten used to. Hed learned to do without sight; to find and eat his rations in the dark, to find his lavatory by counting his steps. It didnt stop the yearning.
I yearn only for some light.
The old tales were popular among the Hessians. Possibly only popularized as a resistance against the Kirche der Grunnen Adler, a rejection of the Gottkanzler as a deity, the ancestral fables of Odin sacrificing his eye for a taste of the sacred well, or of those who were slain in battle rising to fight on the side of the Gods at the final battle of good and evil were cherished among a band who saw their kin die on several fronts day in and day out.
So bright. The light, it burns!
They were interrogating him again. Years had passed. Years to tell himself these stories from memory, the dark to brighten the imagination and strengthen his faith. When the raid on the shipment turned into an ambush, he had led the charge. He was the first one hit, and he was left to pay the price. Years had taught him that brotherhood and loyalty were more myth than tales from Old Earth. Valor and glory were the only qualities to aspire to.
I begin to see again.
He knew where to prove his valor, to find his glory. To repay the Hessians for leaving him to rot in the pits of Vierlande. They offered him his freedom in exchange for names, for a location. He could start over and earn his passage to Valhalla. He would.
I see it all so clearly now.
To Fly With Valkyries - Rudo - 03-23-2009
By blood, smoke and valor, my name spreads.
Years passed. He earned his keep, his vengeance was complete. He had become a Bounty Hunter, one of the very best. Amid the screaming radiation and the gravity taxing his compensators to failure, he was pulled hard into his seat at four times his body weight. He pulled on the maneuvering thrusters and lined up his weapons. He fired, electronic tracers lighting up his window display and guiding his cannon arcs. The Titan-class fighter banked hard to get out from under the blazing stare of his lasers, a desperate maneuver under the extreme conditions so close to the event horizon of the neutron star.. He chuckled to himself despite the agony, despite the oxygen being pumped forcefully into his lungs and the heavy pounding in his ears.
There comes a time in every warriors life when he enters the flames.
The Titan suddenly went dead. The engines continued to fire, but all semblance of guidance from the cockpit had ceased. Volfgang had counted on this; the Corsair had either blacked out or died under the pressure. He gently eased his own vessel up, mindful of his own tolerance for the gravitational stresses. He tracked down the crippled vessel, and without hesitation or remorse, obliterated it with a final barrage of fire.
There are those that are forged into einherjar, and those that crack and fail.
He cackled, a fierce euphoric laugh as he revelled in his victory. The Corsair was one of reknown. His name would spread, and more would fall by his prowess, his ferocity, and his lust for battle. A war would soon break out with the Order, over discoveries of technology with power beyond human skill or understanding out in the wastes. Volf Grissom, the fierce Rheinlander who feared no man and welcomed death, would be one of those drawn to the front lines.
Hear my war song, as I ride across the sky.
To Fly With Valkyries - Rudo - 03-28-2009
For power. For glory. For valor.
He sang to himself. Ancient songs of thunder, of what thunder appeared to be to those with no scientific understanding. A song of a simpler time, when the fierce clap and bright flash were the wrath of Thor and the swing of his mighty hammer. His wing had sight of the Order convoy. A ship of scientists, a cargo bay loaded with weapons and artifacts bound for the Orders guarded planet.
Let each blaze of my cannons
He barked his command. Salvoes of missiles were fired at the escorts, and the formation broke off. The Order wing was outnumbered and outgunned, yet still they rose and returned fire. Two Hunters flared and flashed off to his three. He grimaced; not the grimace of a man who regretted his loss, but one who grew angry with failure. He trained these pilots personally, they should not be falling to a rag-tag band of scientists and exiles. A brief thought fell upon the Thors Hammer he wore on his chest, and then he thought no more. He bellowed with controlled, focused rage.
be a shining steel spear
Warning klaxons were ignored on his display as his shield failed. Another Nephthys withered under the unrelenting barrage of expertly aimed cannons, maneuvering systems melting to slag before fuel tanks ruptured. A missile tore another into three pieces as the two vessels flew past one another at speeds beyond calculation. He banked hard, when suddenly a loud clap rocked his vessel and slammed his helmeted head against the glass of his cockpit. A mine had detonated alongside his ship and blasted out his shield again. Slumped senselessly over his controls, his ship spun off lifelessly away from the battle.
straight to the heart of those
Woozily, Volf retook his stick, pouring over his controls. Checking his chrono, hed been unconscious for only a minute. A glance over the readings cast him back into his joyous bloodlust; the Hunters were getting through! The escorts were falling, the transport was taking hits! He brought the maneuvering thrusters to full power and rejoined the battle. The last escort fell, and the assault wing had surrounded the crippled transport. All that remained was the boarding, and the taking of hostages for more technology.
who would defy the strong their birthright.
A Manta flared and died. Another. And another. His eyes widened, he placed his hand upon the thrust control and threw it all the way forward. The ship pitched forward, pinning him to the back of his seat when the white twisting bolt tore through the space it had occupied till only a moment ago. The Osiris had come, and the transport hobbled toward it. Volf cursed loudly, and as the remnants of his wing flew about in heavy evasive patterns, readied the withdrawl command. He had his orders, and another day would bring glorious victory. Cursing to himself, he opened his mouth and took in a breath.
There is always one greater than
He never gave the order. The Osiris fell under attack; an uncountable number of vessels were swarming it, weapons of a type he had never seen flaring incandescent over the shields of the vessel. He pulled his wing away, activating a recorder and watching the poetic carnage, the beautiful destruction. All ships moved as one; a singular organism, a living web sparking so many hits across the impenetrable shields of the Osiris that it was blind and firing shots hopelessly at random. The transport had been totally disabled almost as an afterthought by these creatures, finishing the job his Hunters had started. It was now a floating tomb for those trapped aboard. His assault team could get aboard if not for the swarming ships. Volf couldnt tear his eyes away.
one who believes himself mightiest.
As the small transparent gnats swarmed over the ship, Volf saw coming opposite his wing was the spider to the attacking vessels web. It dwarfed the Osiris by at least two orders of size, glowed a bright blue, and pulsed with a living movement Volf had never imagined for anything that size in this universe. He was a religious man before; this sight had him wracking his mind for what scripture brought these creatures about. He watched massive cannons, bolts of an energy yet untapped by mankind smash through the weakened shields and into the hull, over and over. The shield failed completely, and the damage was immediately apparent. A few moments later, and the swarming gnats had torn every weapon hardpoint off the ship and left it a drifting hulk akin to the transport beside it. Volf knew that these creatures were also keen to take living prisoners, yet for what purpose he had yet to discern.
He had to learn more.
To Fly With Valkyries - Rudo - 03-28-2009
Each night I pray
Volf Grissom could not sleep. He could not tear his mind away from what he had seen. He had since researched the alien race known as Nomads. He had seen pictures of them before; yet nothing prepared him for seeing the majesty they commanded in battle. He chuckled to himself; the Nomads were the enemy, the ancient, unknowable race fighting to reclaim the space now occupied by the Sirius colonies.
to the gods for the foresight
He had since hunted them. He had learned from the encounter that they all seemed to think as one, and so he had to hit them unawares and disappear before they reinforced themselves. He had fragments to show for it. Dead organic matter that could have been creature or ship, immediately plucked from his cargo hold upon landing and never looked upon or touched by himself. The credits didnt matter, despite how well the Core paid for his work.
to know my path and the conviction
To understand them. To learn how they thought, how they worked. The secrets of their power. The Guild would be the ultimate force in the sector, commanding tribute from all houses and cartels. They would rule the planets and systems with an iron fist.
to remain on it regardless of the cost
He chuckled to himself. To be envious of such power was common for those such as he. He sat down at his desk, poking out words that flowed from him on the display. A habit from prison, he had only to clear his mind and prose would flow forth like water from a glacial lake. Before, he had to settle for memorizing his work, having little to write with and no light to write by.
An army of one mind
The termites are to be feared
Gnawing from within ourselves
We will collapse
Are they the enemy
Or the strong claiming their birthright
The gods favor the strong
What have they to say of Valhalla?
The termites are to be feared
Gnawing from within ourselves
We will collapse
Are they the enemy
Or the strong claiming their birthright
The gods favor the strong
What have they to say of Valhalla?
He took a second look and shook his head. His writing, his one escape had been tainted as well.
***We hunt***
His head rang with images and an inexplicable feeling. An Osiris being pulled apart piece by piece, as seen through many eyes at once. A singular mind of many voices as one, a pool of unfathomable knowledge, both alien and familiar. He knew immediately what was happening.
***You hunt Us***
More images. His Manta tearing through the strange ships, carting off what he could and withdrawing before he could be overrun. He felt blind, quivering rage not a human rage, but that of an animal wounded. What free mental processes he had remaining, he sat himself back down and attempted to push back.
What are you? Tell me of your strength, tell me what I desire to know.
***We are Community***
***Power is a human- want***
Power is the birthright of the strong, he pushed back.
***Birthright***
He felt the quivering rage again, of loss and longing. His own emotion, a small pang of sympathy, rose once the calamity in his head subsided, then of shame for his own admission of pity. The presence rang like a church bell everytime it sent messages to him.
***-human- regrets***
No. You are the conquered, we take what we will. Such are the rights of the strong.
***You hunt Community***
I hunt that which is will give me fame and glory. Valor is the path of the gods.
***falsetruths***
One day I will die. I have foreseen it, written in the stones in my dreams. I will die in battle, surrounded and hated by many. The Valkyries will come for Volf. I will ascend to Valhalla.
A new voice, this one strained and human. The shocking difference tore into his mind.
If there are gods, why would this happen to me? WHY?!
Mein brutter he spoke aloud.
Where are my Valkyries?! Tell me you bastard! You blind ignorant bastard! What gods would allow this to happen to me?! Theyre DEAD! Theyre all DEAD!
Volf closed his eyes and fingered the pendant on his chest. He would not sleep tonight. He was no closer to knowing what he would do, and less at ease with the more he learned. He now knew the full reason behind why they took their live captives. Their power had reached beyond anything he had grasped before.
Regardless of cost.
To Fly With Valkyries - Rudo - 03-28-2009
It is by my own hand
He awoke strapped to a metal table. A Rheinland medical bay, he thought. I must be injured badly if they need to restrain me so.
that a path is carved toward destiny
He had tracked the vessel for days. He deduced its rough path from long-distance chatter he intercepted from Corsairs, from Hessians, from Bretonia. He had chased it through the Omegas and now the trail was fresh. Wreckage at Freeport One. He powered up his engines, pointing the ship toward Cambridge. He had to confront the creature; to capture it, to divest it of secrets and obtain samples of its power. Nothing else mattered aside from the prospect of victory, or a valorous death at the hands of an entity beyond the comprehension of man.
all will become clear
***We have waited for you***
The vessel was enormous. A mass of tendrils shining black in the dim light of the ice field. The bastard knew I was coming, he realized before volleys of fire screamed at him. He pitched and rolled his Manta, his chariot; the vessel he knew inside and out, easily dodging the bolts and returning his own barrage. Bellowing with primal rage and euphoric battle lust, he tore the ship around again and again, slamming shot after shot after shot into the weakening shields of the vessel. This was right. This was fate coming to fruition and giving Volf his deserved prize.
I will know true power
He arced back for another pass. He brought the massive vessel into his sights when a flash erupted about him. The dead controls and failed plant told him his worst fear: an EMP had gotten through. The creature-ship approached, and he imagined the many eyes of a spider upon a trapped fly, the grasping tendrils like dripping fangs opening before him. I now go to Valhalla, he mused to himself, pulling his sidearm. They had crippled his ship and he knew what lay in store for him. When they came in, he would kill as many as he could. Give them no choice but to kill him instead.
or I will know death at the hands of innumerable enemies.
It dawned on him why he was in what appeared to be a Rheinland medical bay. Why he was strapped down. He was unsure if it was shock or complicit acceptance of the inevitable, but what he knew lay in store for him failed to instill the dread that he felt a normal person would experience. He was, instead... curious. Another part of him was aghast at this curiosity; he pushed this aside as a remnant of the fear he felt unbecoming of a man who believed in fate. He accepted what was to come, and now only sought to better his hand.
Perhaps true power will bring me this inevitable death.
A man entered the room, in an immaculate Rheinland Military uniform. You know what you are here for, ja? he asked.
I am aware. Volf replied. He sighed nervously, puffing out his cheeks.
You dont seem afraid.
I believe in fate. Such is mine, creature. Do what you will. Hunter Volf will be remembered as having fallen in battle. Volf added, a proud defiance still heavy in his words.
He will. But not yet. The visitor replied with a slight smile. Volf looked at the man curiously. He continued. You will cooperate with us. You will know what we know. ***You will become Us*** it added wordlessly at the last sentence. Volf had another glimpse of power, of the limitless knowledge.
He had had enough. These creatures sought to capture his body, his mind, his very spirit and yet here still, at the mouth of Hell he saw power and grasped for it. I will become your vessel, beast? I think not.
The choice is not yours to make." Was the reply, with a slightly bemused question: "But of what consequence is this to you?
A piece of the puzzle fell into place in Volf's mind. Explain yourself. Do me the privilege of knowing what you read from me.
The man took a deep breath, going over words carefully; as a man who rarely speaks the language he now converses in would. You crave battle and death. Fire and righteous fury, to see the weak driven before you. I am correct, ja? He added with a slight expectant lift of his eyebrows.
A deal with the devil, Volf thought to himself. Perhaps you do know me well.
The man laid his hand on Volf's forehead. Perhaps we have cultivated you into one of our finest tools of reclamation, freund. You will hunt. You will revel in death and conquest, in power and in the glory of battle.
***But you will be Community***
Volf felt a glimmer of hope. I will remain?
***Birthright... -OUR- birthright***
Volf sighed. The gods worked in mysterious ways. They approached. What was done, was done. Volf was no longer himself, and yet... and yet he still was.
Such as was written in the stones.