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+--- Thread: James Price and the LNS-Vancouver (/showthread.php?tid=25741)
James Price and the LNS-Vancouver - Violette - 08-31-2009
//More to add, as well as a special request. Feedback welcome via PM:)
//also to make it clearer this type of text represents the dreams James has.
The morning air was crisp with a slight breeze whispering from the east. It carried a hint of moisture into the parched desert atmosphere. The painted sky welcomed the sun and the dark shadows retreated. James Price was also there to greet the sun.
Seated on the rocks and sand, his breath was deep and regular. He prayed that Maggie would be safe, and that he would soon, be able to return home to Planet Manhattan
Historically, the Order had also used the site for burials. The energy of the Toledo’s chakra created a power for the ceremonies that the religious kind of the ranks felt. The land scape here was beautiful a rare sight on the surface of the planet.
“James,” a soft, inquisitive voice pulled at his awareness, slowly rousing him from his meditations. He took a slow, deep breath before opening his eyes. The voice called again, seductively, “James Price?”
He blinked. The sun streamed over the horizon, momentarily blinding him. The world swirled in front of his eyes to display a haze of colours and textures not common to the desert scene.
“Yes?” James responded. His voice was course and distant, even to his own ears. A cacophony of crickets suddenly overwhelmed his senses, and just as quickly, their chorus harmonized to a symphony. It was perfect, he must be dreaming.
“James, a good day to you” they said, James cocked his head to the side. The voice was unfamiliar to him and the cadence was… foreign, a Rheinlander perhaps?
“Good day to you, too,” he answered, humoured by the formal tone of the greeting. He focused on the feminine curves, a featureless silhouette outlined by the golden sunrise.
“Can I help you with something?” The end of his sentence hung in the air as it waited for the second party to complete the introductions. Though new faces were common in the Order ranks, James made it a point to be familiar with all of them.
“You can,” the answer arrived after a strangled moment of silence. An arm of incredible length reached down, offering a hand to help him to his feet. “Or maybe we can help you.”
“Help me?” James scratched his head, then added, “We?” He smiled a boyish grin, which he had not lost with his age.
“Yes, my companions are onboard the ship. We would like to invite you aboard.” The outstretched hand did not retreat. She waited patiently as a mother who waits for their toddler at a playground sandbox. “It’s close by”
“Ship?” Mentally, he kicked himself for his lack of eloquence. “There’s no landing zone for at least a hundred miles”
“It’s not an Order ship as such.” Her lilt held a hint of a laugh. Their hands connected and James realized he was walking with her. He hadn’t stood up; his mind momentarily struggled to process this.
And there it was. It was definitely not a ship from the Order, or any line of ships he had ever seen, including that of the Nomads; the craft was inconceivable in its beauty and design. As a pilot, James had access to the Order database of almost all tech and ships in Sirius, but what stood before him was baffling. The sands were free of all evidence from landing. There weren’t any landing struts, there were no wings for lift – it would stand a better chance in the water than in the space. It was almost orb-like in shape. And has a blue-ish tint and glow to it.
“I must be dreaming,” James spoke and his voice echoed back from the ship.
“You are not dreaming,” the feminine reply wrapped around him like silky satin. Her voice did not reverberate the way his had. James managed his first real look at her without the hindrance of the sun.
She was exquisitely lean and tall embodying the ultimate ideals of the female form set down by artists throughout the ages. Her hair flowed with an ethereal radiance, gentle curls waved in the nonexistent breeze. Every limb moved with the careful grace of a prima ballerina. And her eyes, those eyes were large and innocent, coy and curious, dark and mysterious. But displayed a hidden purple light in them
“Who are you?” he stammered
“Sit down, James, and we will tell you all that you need to know.”
The table appeared, initially wrapped in a purple mist. It was solid and richly carved; mahogany or cherry, James did not know his woods well, spending most of his time in ships. There were chairs and walls as well. He was on the ship without having to board it. His skin pricked with nervous excitement.
“You are special James. We see in you a man of vision and the ambition to move forward with plans. And these are the plans” she moved forward, engulfing his body within her, or her within him, she had disappeared and he exploded into a million shards of humanity.
James Price and the LNS-Vancouver - Violette - 08-31-2009
James breathed heavily as he was jolted back to reality. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was out of energy. He was tired of the weird dreams he kept having. This was the third time in five days and Prices head was banging. He had fallen asleep on the sofa again in front of the television.
His girlfriend Maggie grabbed him by the arm and sighed,
Come on, lets go, you cant keep dozing off like this she said,
Take me to bed, he said when they entered the bedroom. I need to lie down. I dont feel well.
Maggie pulled back the covers and led him to sit on the edge of the bed. Jamess skin looked sick and pale. He fell on the bed, shivering uncontrollably. Maggie pulled up the covers with a look of concern,
James, you are weak. You need to rest. She spoke in a hushed tone and softly stroked his cheek.
You have always been so good to me, Maggie. I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you.
James turned his head and coughed in his hand. His body convulsed and Maggie moved to hold him closer.
He looked into her eyes,
Was I wrong, to join the Order? Was I wrong for criticizing the government?
"No," she said. "I have always respected you for what you believe in. They are the ones who rebelled against the truth
Your actions will be noticed, Liberty cant ignore the threat forever
She looked up, deep into his eyes, he was dying she feared, and they did not know why.
He coughed again and felt his chest tighten. She held him tightly.
Maybe Maggie, maybe youre right. But why cant humanity fight together to save ourselves? Why must we fight amongst ourselves?
Another coughing spell racked him. Maggie looked deep into his blue eyes, showing a slight tint of purple in surrounding the pupils.
James raised his hands to his chest in agony. His hands cover his chest. James inhaled deeply and fell back down on the bed.
Forgive me for failing you Liberty he looked her deep in the eyes, Forgive me for failing you Maggie. Price closed his eyes and tried to rest.
BAM!
The apartment door rocked with a forceful kick, shuddering on its hinges. The entire room vibrated and they were both was deathly quiet.
Maggies head bolted up, fear plastered across her features. James looked over at the door, bracing himself for whatever happened next.
BAM!
Another thudding kick and Jamess eyes flew open in panic. The dim strobes of flashlights swept across the draped curtains.
Price mustered the last of his strength and sat. He pointed a shaky finger at the door.
Theyre here, he said, and collapsed back down. Tears blurred his vision and he squeezed the area above his heart.
Another kick and the door shot open. The useless chain rattled to the floor in surrender.
Armed men entered the room pointing guns and demanding them not to move.
You, on the floor, now! one of the shouted to Maggie,
James watched helplessly as his beloved Maggie were subdued and pinned down by force. Fear and panic danced in their eyes. Price could read the thoughts behind her.
You were right about most things, but wrong about the Law. Why did you refuse my request to leave liberty?
Through the gaping doorway, came the figure of a man. Lines creased his brow as he smiled at James.
I knew I would find you the man said,
Price muttered a seemingly incoherent thought, his heart palpitating at this last revelation,
You?
Indeed the hunter stepped fully into the room from beneath the shadows that cloaked him.
The heart of James Price had lost, the Bounty Hunter had found him, he had failed the Order, and failed Liberty.
James Price and the LNS-Vancouver - Violette - 08-31-2009
***Wondering...familiar....***
The wind crashing against his face, papers fading in and out like littly swirls like tiny planets-orbiting around the street, and a lone tear, bitter, red, and purple eyes of light.
And it is often in the middle that he finds himself at the beginning, the beginning of a story, here is his beginning.....
***Possession...organic...comply***
He can only describe it like waking up in the middle of a party, realizing you have "arrived", you are exactly where you want to be in life, your peers remember your writing and your name, and you randomly hallucinate that the love song blaring across the guitars was written for you and the singer along....an unmistakeable unrequited love, secretly announced in public and only understood by you.
***They...will...pay***
And to this my friend, to this epiphany of having arrived you smile and then wait and wonder, what happens next? Who else has arrived? And then perhaps dread sets in or the singer leaves and suddenly with all your arriving you realize that you already knew this would happen-you just didn't know when, and you sure can't remember what happens next-although you're hoping it has a happy ending.
***Possession...neural...infest***
How can you know these things? Gut intuition, no my friend, crazy Nomad-magic psychic intuition, and you sit there, savant like, as if snow will suddenly flurry from the ceiling and you will be whisked away to yet another beginning, what do I do about those parts of me I left behind.
***Awareness...of...lie...truths...***
Perhaps you chalk up what was once to an "experience", a memory, a heartbroken loss, but in the end maybe it is more, maybe it is the song you loved and laughed out too aloud, maybe it was remembering when the process, the journey, was filled with wonder, or maybe it was that screenplay you wanted to write about getting drunk and filming metrobus interactions all night long-because once you have arrived, there is always some point you may have to leave.
***Time...Tells***
And leaving, no matter how notorious, victorious, or grand always requires the sacrifice, the uncertainty, and the fear of never knowing when they'll play your song again, or find that quiet day with leaves of orange, or asking yourself, just what would I do for a cloud of Cardimine?
***Try...organic...neural...functions***
Because as the paper cranes of your heart are carried off in the silent wandering of a man leaving, and your childhood heros are slowly replaced by lies, and you find yourself confused among the organic and natural food rations, something got lost.....the middle, the you that stood up, disco style, and said, He has dreamed more, He wants more, He is more, and then proceeded to laugh amid a display of crashing lemons that perhaps even if there is no point, you had a point to make, no matter how mundane and trivial, and then in some weird sequence of events we all just got lost in the middle of-arriving and leaving
***Sleep....ends...awake....begins***
And lost what it was to truly "be" and "begin".
***Awaken...Live...Prosper***
And in the end you just keep doing the same thing because you'll never know how long it takes you to arrive again.
***Awaken...Serve...Conquer***
Blades!
Blades of fury!
Raining down!
Your race stole Sirius from the true babies of the playpen!
You
Will
Pay!
Cries of death and destruction within his head, no escape from the Revenge of the spirits.
James screamed and shot up on his bunk, he panicked for a second, clutching his chest and looking around the room for Maggie.
His heart slowed, and then dropped as he found himself alone in a pitch black cell. He recognised the itchy feel of the prisoner clothes he was wearing, even though he could not see them on his body.
He was not dead, but imprisoned.
Where?
He was not sure, he heard footsteps from somewhere, distant and muffled. The sound of metal against metal...
James Price and the LNS-Vancouver - Violette - 09-02-2009
The cell door swung open, bright white light shining in, blinding James momentarily as his eyes adjusted.
Three bulky silhouettes stood out, dark and threatening. As James’s eyesight developed, he noticed the LNS-Vancouver stamped on their uniforms.
The largest one indicated for him to stand-up and follow them.
James obeyed, struggling to move a little with his wrists chained together like they were.
They stepped out onto a small detention deck; cells lining the corridors, the Vancouver could support up to 150 Prisoners should it need to. This was the top deck out of several; he could look down the middle shaft to see more of the decks, eventually leading to darkness.
The LNS-Vancouver had to be an Atlantis-class Carrier, James thought, a dreadnaught couldn’t support such facilities. The three security personnel led him past the Guard station and towards the service elevator.
As they arrived at the small industrial doors, James began to feel faint, distant.
He felt like he was in a dream, everything was more purple tinted and looked angry...
***...Break...Free...***
Ding!
The elevator had landed, the doors slid open.
***...Obey...Control...Release...***
“Okay, move it on buddy” the lead officer said, indicating for him to enter the lift.
***...Now...***
James lashed out swinging both his hands like a hammer upwards into the guard to the left, spraying out blood.
The guard to the right reached for his gun and attempted to yell but failed as James turned and slammed his right foot backwards into the guard’s stomach, winding him and throwing him backwards.
The last guard was momentarily distracted by the haste of the whole action that emanated so rapidly, swung out his baton at James’s head.
James surprised him dodging to the left, his leg swept out in a wide, graceful art, connecting with the officers ankles, throwing him off balance.
Without even realizing what exactly was happening, the officer found himself flat on his back, sucking in deep breaths of air that seemed devoid of oxygen, wincing at the pain his head was experiencing from colliding with the ground.
The subsequent tunnel vision that threatened to take away his sight cleared with just enough time to roll away from James punching down at his face.
The officer was facing the floor now and pushed down, raising his body up to stand.
James turned to swing again, this time the officer was ready and swung a slow, heavy right hand at James.
James ducked under it and dug both his fists into the officer's soft middle. The officer bent almost double in pain and James hooked both hands to the face.
The officer began to spurt blood and he waved his hands feebly in front of him and tried to clinch. Contemptuously, James let the officer grapple him, but kept his right hand free and clubbed at the officer’s kidneys.
The officer slowly went down to one knee. He looked up blearily at James through the blood that was flowing from his cut forehead.
James stepped back. He wasn't even breathing hard. There was a little purple glow in his eyes, a power he had deep within, bursting to break free.
***...Finish...Him...***
James lurched forward in a final, football kick style, swinging his right boot into the officer’s face.
Blood exploded from his face and sprayed upwards as he fell back, too injured to continue.
James Price and the LNS-Vancouver - Violette - 09-03-2009
James stood patiently in the elevator, slightly adjusting his newly acquired Security Personnel uniform. He was on his way to the Command deck now, to attempt to influence the next series of events.
The doors opened and he stepped out into the main gangway. He made his way to the Bridge and took it all in.
The Bridge was a circular room; many of the crew lined its walls, commanding weapons systems and navigational panels.
In the middle sat Captain Tracy Autumn, issuing orders as the ship drifted deeper into Alaska, visible though the giant front window.
A silhouette of a large ship, cruiser-class, was visible in the distance, hiding within the giant ice clouds.
James made his way towards Captain Autumn; he had to show her the light.
***...Control...***
Maam, we have an ID on the ship! One of the crew shouted, turning in his chair Its the LNS-Tundra!
Hail the ship again, Id be amazed if someones still alive on that thing The Young captain replied.
James knew what was to come next; he had to enlighten her...
***...No...Choice...***
He arrived at the back of her chair as she swung it round to race him, startled he jumped back.
What the hell are you doing up here? she asked, confusion on her face, It was then she saw it, the look in his eyes, she had seen it before.
As a child, she had seen her father with that same look. The infection.
Seventeen years ago, her life was torn apart as she saw her father gunned down by his own crew; his body was under alien control.
She felt a cold chill in the room as she rose to her feet.
The two of them stood, frozen, the crew awaiting orders. The moment seemed to last forever, not end in sight.
She hovered her hand over her sidearm as he did the same.
There he is! a fresh new Security Guard yelled, raising his gun at the Order agent,
Tracy begun to draw her sidearm but stopped half way as she found herself staring down the barrel of Jamess own,
Drop it he demanded, Tracy obeyed dropping her sidearm at her side. She then kicked it away and straightened up,
Hold your fire, this man is a high priority target, do not fire Tracy ordered, the Security personnel lowering their guns,
The moment was still again, James was sweating, his gun to her chest, the Crew were either in shock or trying to keep the ship afloat.
The Tundra had now disappeared to the starboard side of the Vancouver, and out of sight from the front windows.
Tell me your name agent Tracy requested,
James Price, Maam He replied, tightening his grip on the gun.
The Tundra had pulled up to the Vancouver and had begun contacting the lone agent, ready to pass on its gifts and treasures to another...
James Price and the LNS-Vancouver - Violette - 09-03-2009
"You tell me, James, just what exactly were you hoping to accomplish?" Tracy stood resolute, facing down the barrel of the semi-automatic pistol aimed directly at her sweat-soaked forehead.
***...Comprimised...end...her...***
Blinking against the acrid, purple-hued smoke, James licked his lips, nervous.
"Everybody here, in this room, is on your head. You realize that, right?" Tracy smiled slightly, though it never reached her eyes.
"I... I... damn..." James looked around again. Many of the crewmembers had stood up and had drawn their guns.
***...End...Her...***
Tracy moved slightly to reach for the pistol, but James re-gripped and jumped back a pace.
"Don't you - stop right there Autumn! You will obey the masters command! James shouted. "I have power, but you've got but two choices: comply, or die on your feet."
Tracy shrugged, unperturbed, "Don't seem like much of a choice, you ask me." She took a step forward, then another.
***...Failure...not...optional...***
"Don't you do it! One more step, one more God-damned step and I'll end you!"
She smiled. "I can't say I don't believe it." She took another step.
***...End...her!...***
"No!" James pulled the trigger, a shot ran out.
Tracy's body rocked back and she stumbled for a moment in her place. Smoke rose from the wound in her chest, and she grimaced at her opponent, like a lion caught in its cage.
"Hnngh..." Mumbling, Tracy fell to her knees, then after a few more brief moments, slumped to her side. She lay motionless.
The crew was in shock, no one dared move, say anything or shoot the nervous Order agent.
"Holy... Jesus..." James rubbed his face with his hand and stepped back until he ran into the metal behind him. He leaned on it heavily, unsure of his feet.
One of the Security commanders stepped forward, ready to take the gun from him.
Suddenly, the ship rocked violently to one side, throwing him and the crew to the ground.
Grunting to his feet, James stumbled past the chaotic crew. One captain short trying to find out what had just hit them, the Crew were panicking.
***...Run...***
Through the main gangway he went, toward the utility decks. The ship lurched again, more violently, and a calm voice spoke over the speaker system, temporarily dampening the blaring alarms.
"Attention, attention: shield integrity minimal. Recommend immediate evasive action. Repeat, shield integrity minimal-"
James slammed his fist into the console and silenced the voice,
"We know damn well we're f***ed, thank you very much!"
Glancing about the console, he flicked a few more switches and the alarms and alert lights died out, leaving the atmosphere quieter and more controlled, save the emergency lights and the crew shouting and rushing about.
Coughing, James moved to the viewport and glanced about the sea of black. "Should been here by-"
A mild chirp sounded from the control console, and a screen flickered to life. Static crossed the tube screen, displaying only purple lines, moving about, a voice echoed,
...Control...darkness...everlasting...control...
Rushing over to the console, James flicked the switch next to the screen.
***...Grow?...*** he replied, his eyes now a deep purple, the Nomad now had complete control of its host,
***...Corrupt....Enlighten...Conquer...*** this time not from the console, but from his head.
He moved to the engineering deck avoiding the panicking crew running by,
Moments later, the compression chamber cycled open, revealing a short causeway leading to the adjoining ship.
Several infected Navy personnel appeared LNS-Tundra tagged on their uniforms. One named Anton led the charge, stepping roughly into the foreign vessel.
James stood, in his false Navy uniform and dim purple eyes.
Anton looked him up and down for a moment, then the personnel split up and moved deeper into the ship, baring no weapons.
***...Vent...enlightenment...navy...fall...*** he told Anton without the use of words,
James moved to the console and activated the Ventilation system.
The infected Navy men moved swiftly, without the actual crew noticing them. They have moved to engineering, no one had stopped them so far, so they opened up the ventilation control and pulled out bags of some orange substance, pouring it into the vents.
James hit full power and the air filled with just enough Cardimine to go unnoticed,
The infected Navy then moved to the water supply, adding concentrated Liquid Cardimine to the main tank, slowly the crew would feel the effects.
Lastly Anton wheeled in an unmarked Navy crate to the service lift, his intention to leave it in the Cargo hold.
Afterwards he returned to James and the infected Navy men followed,
***...Success...failure...not....optional...*** Anton told him, his lips not moving,
Anton stepped into the causeway and the airlock door hissed closed. The ship rocked slightly as the adjoining vessel dislodged itself from the docking port and moved away.
James stood, within his new task.
To fully infect the LNS-Vancouver.