『User: < Blackthorne | The Order > 『Location: Dabadoru Station, Omicron Delta 『Date: 823 A.S | 11th February 『Local Time: 1900 『Global Time: 1900 Entry Begin
『Time is passing relentlessly. There is little comfort in realizing this obvious and important detail. The second year draws near in which I couldn't celebrate properly, for the celebration included a certain friend.
Her lifeless body floating around, discovering the stars as we dreamed since our youth, a dream that was taken from me, for vengeance has become my only dream. While the shattered remains of the Oracle that made it back to the space of the Order are buried within the vaults of a certain moon, its influence on my world persists.
Only few are able to enter it but more importantly, nothing can escape from there.
After a year since we have unveiled the artifact, we still know so little about it. It's influence is terrifying. It's mere presence begins as a small melody, barely audible. Yet in the end, it's a sweet voice that convinces you to forget who you are. The only way to end it was to bury it. 『And now, it's more than a year back when its influence over me was the greatest. Officially she has gone missing after we crashed into the asteroid that saved us from collision course with the star. Given the circumstances, there was no further inquiry when her name was among the list of casualties.
Entry end.
Blackthorne's hands disconnected from the device at a moments notice. The chaos within his mind, increasingly replaced with ease, was slowly adjusting itself to the new circumstance. Settling the score with the spirits that haunt him day and night is only the first step. Clear thought was mandatory for this mission, as vengeance is no easy task. In the case of Nomads, at least. And clear thought commands him to undo the mistake he did. Transforming his thoughts into data, readable and slightly more sorted than the pure anarchy that ruled previously was everything he needed. Now the datapad has done its part and is no longer necessary.
Entry deleted.
As the eternity surrounding him breaks, reality forces him to return into his sanctuary on the resting Nightingale, a wingless predator with quiet and dangerous fangs, singing the songs of vengeance. The irony of the composition between the ship and its name suits him. While he is missing his previous home, a Corvo cruiser, the less luxurious Resheph-class offers subtantially more potential for his purposes and was chosen as the most fitting vessel after the Oracle parted with the world. His thoughts run rampant in creating new strategies and plans to bring him closer to his goal. Yet everything seems to be connected to the sphere they uncovered on that faithful day.
The fallout of his actions didn't keep him waiting for long. Shortly after, the security of his family was at risk. While knowledge about the incident is rare, the agent is certain it were Nomads that were after his family. A new identity, new home, your existence and traces of it eridacated in mere moments, modern methods and the ability of computer systems never cease to amaze him.
Faint sunlight slips past the armored windows, painting his sanctume in an alien red hue. While the 'Eye', as he likes to call it, looms over the vast space within Omicron Delta, observing the system as a guardian commanded by nature itself, Blackthorne can not help but consider what secrets are kept within this system. His gaze wanders slightly below the eye, meeting the emerald horde of organisms that assemble within the wall of death itself. Certain death awaiting anyone keen enough to attempt unveiling anything beyond the graveyard hole, the fiendish efficiency of this place is truly what attracts him in this system.
While the reason for the Nomad presence is obvious on one side, Blackthorne has convinced himself of the Nomads being guardians of a treasure chest that lies beyond the uncovered paths. To cast light upon the great shadow that remains inside marks an important step in his plan.
Embarking onto a journey into the green horde as a next step. Dangerous, but doable. With a small piece of hope shimmering on the screen across the room, Blackthorne's confidence experiences an exponential rise as he began assembling a list of needed equipment for the Order.
Deceiving death itself is all the power he requires.
[img float=right]http://i.imgur.com/jj9KjYg.jpg?1[/img]The sound of steps on dark metal tiles echoes through the long hallways. Former path lighting has served its purpose and the environments resembling dark chambers make the station appear abandoned, if you would ignore the human activity. While it is, thanks to the war efforts, fairly hectic on the station, you can almost find a certain calm in its atmosphere if you delve into the less populated sections. Searching for solitude amidst the station will inevitably lead you to the damaged sections.
Blackthorne stood in the hallway, debris blocking the path ahead. If he remembered correctly, the station reactor should be at the dark end in the distance beyond the obstacles. But it doesn't matter. Down here the steps can still be heard, although they are more subtle down here. The most prominent sound here is his own breathing and the humming of the reactor that powers the Apophis - and currently also Dabadoru. This setup was the necessary consequence of the assault in which the reactor suffered critical damage. Backup power is not sufficient for powering this station alone, and a decision was made. Sacrificing the Apophis offensive power for making the station fully functional. This setup has worked well for the Order so far, yet here's to hope that the Apophis could soon use its whole firepower again soon.
The captain collected his thoughts and ran through the past months again. There have been no notable incidents regarding his condition, at least none he was aware of. Usually he can remember the presence of the artifact that is buried deep underground in a distant vault, if it exerts its presence on him. It may be pitifully weak at this distance, but it exists nonetheless.
Thanks to efforts of the Zoners, now even more in need of Order assistance, the crucial element in the next phase has been installed on his ship and tested thoroughly in the field. An enormous cloaking device outfitted with a special configuration that allows for greater specialization in scouting purposes by raising the fuel efficiency in return for increased charging time. While the Core is now threatening their place in the Omicrons, Blackthorne can not afford getting into a personal quarrel with them. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, the Core could become useful in the future if they don't pursue more warmongering.
Remembering the timetable, Blackthorne returned down the hallways. He could feel the tranquility slowly dying the closer he got to the airlock that lead to his ship.
The Nightingale, not able to rest much longer, lies peacefully in the harbor, having only recently returned from repairs and being outfitted with the cloaking device.
With the elevator opening at the bridge, the captain stepped in, shouting "At ease" before anyone had the chance to salute. With the situation report confirming all systems ready for launch, the command was given to release the ship. The locks snapping with a metallic noise, the barriers between the ships building up and the airlock retreating to its host, the Nightingale found itself freed from the grasp of Dabadoru. The buzzing of the rear engines joined the list of background noises while the support thrusters at the front of the Resheph-class had a much more prominent noise.
Closing his eyes, he scanned his mind for a specific unwanted presence. He could not find relief even though his search returned nothing. Maybe it wasn't interested? Was it resting? Or is it just waiting in the shadows? There was no way to tell, but it wouldn't stop him either way. There was only the path ahead, one way or another.
"Come to think of it", he thought, "I must account for the eventuality that the humans on this ship will be unable to control the ship." With the Nomads gaining strength and becoming more aggressive, this possibility is ever more likely.
[img float=right]http://i.imgur.com/TLjYTDy.jpg?1[/img]He mentally added this point on his to-do list just as a flash of light was created around the ship. The rattling of the engine, the powercore soon reaching maximum load and the cloaking device activating played their song like a symphony, it's notes playing together to conceal the ship. And eventually, they vanished from sight. Only a few moments later, they submerged into the green flood that held the secret they are looking for.
As soon as they plunged into the vast thick sea of green, the scanners of the Nightingale succumbed to the effects of the cloud.
Blackthorne opened a communication channel into another section of the ship. "Machine room, can you pinpoint the reason for the scanner interference?"
After a few seconds of silence, the first response came. "We are not certain. It looks like this cloud bears a lot of excess energy. Our scanners are not finetuned to notice ship signatures among such background noise. We can only rely on visual scanners until we leave this nebula."
It was a bit disappointing. "How much time would it take to adjust the systems to this interference?" "To find the best setup? At least a day. We can use the data gathered and try to find the most suitable settings. But there's no guarantee this is possible at all with the fluctuation of the signals."
It is only getting worse. They have passed a few larger asteroids in the meantime, but no obvious signs of a source of energy.
He was certain that he is searching for some sort of energy source for these interferences. The cloud is.. changing.
But there's no time for that.
The nearby Nomad swarms are becoming aware of their exact position, and he can not risk a Nomad infecting the mind of a crew member. While his team is trained to withstand Nomad attacks, errors are only human and it's best to cancel the mission at this point.
The Nightingale returned to the docks of Dabadoru once more, although not without damage that the Nomads inflicted once they found the ship.
For this mission to become a success, more preperation is required. The Ingenuus Research Group can certainly help with that.
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