The Bad, The Good, The Ugly, The New - The Vagrants Story
'Roman has big plans, I fear there may be flaws, but we will cross these bridges when we get there, for now, whatever he has is the best we've got.' - Extract from a Leaders Diary
I'm Capt. Bowen; of the Vagrant ship Desert Sun. I am one of three leaders. We are fifty-three people, fighting to survive. I write this to engrave the fateful events that happened, on an unknown date, in a previously unknown ship, permanently in paper and on the neural net.
Chapter One - Preparations
1 am, A week before the riot
It was time for us to strike. The slavers were not prepared; they had grown sloppy and careless, perfect for us. Our leader, Roman Chorniy, lead us well. There were fifty-three of us. We were slaves, aboard a hell hole of a slave liner. But this ship was old, and Roman and I found its weaknesses. Soon, we had formulated a plan. One night, when all the guards had gone to sleep in their quarters, leaving the slaves in a cold dark hall, we let the rest of the slaves in on it.
'Alright everyone, listen up!' Roman shouted, in response to this there were several tired and dreary moans, but soon everyone was either sitting on the floor or standing, facing us. 'Next week, is the week we gain our freedom!' Roman continued, 'Me and Mr Bowen have formulated a plan, a plan to save all of our souls!' For several hours after this, Roman carefully told all the slaves their individual roles, be it general fighting, or securing the radar station. He ended his speech with a triumphant tone, and with what would soon be the Vagrants slogan, 'We will not be defeated, we will not be stopped. All Together!' and I am sure that there would have been a cheer, if there wasn't the threat that the guards might hear.
Several days later, 1 pm, lunch on the slave ship
'Are we all ready?' Roman asked me, as I generally lead the troops - while he thinks of amazing ideas to help us gain the upper hand - a tradition that is still held here on the Desert Sun.
'I believe we are, this is the best we'll get, so we have no second chances if we fail,' I replied.
'Well then, to our success.' He raised his glass, and in response I raised mine. The first time I'd been slightly happy since he'd told me his plans, and decided to make me his sub-commander.
The day before the riot, 2 am
'Okay then, troops, conceal your makeshift weapons on your person, do not make anything to obvious. If in doubt, leave it. I don't want anyone giving us away. We will start the riot when the second shift alarm goes off, that way we have the most people out there and they have less than usual. You all know your groups and your orders. The way you carry them out is up to you. Just try not to pump the atmosphere into space, we need to stay alive. The C&C team is with me, I repeat, the Capture & Command team is with me. We'll be heading to the bridge as soon as that alarm goes off. Try and get a good night's sleep. I don't want any tired troops. That is all - oh, and good luck out there.'
The following morning, the day of the riot
This was it, we were ready to go. And go we would. It was 11 am, half an hour before the riot would start.
Chapter 2 - Riot Time
'So, todays the day. The day we fight for freedom. It's taken longer than expected, too long, and now we're in Inverness. A long way away from where we want to be. But there's no turning back now.' - Extract from a Leaders diary
11:20, The day of the Riot
I remember this moment well, ten minutes before the shift alarm. Ten minutes before success, or failure. This was it, the time had come. I made eye contact with several other slaves, and they made slight suggestions, like nodding their head, to indicate they were ready. I was proud of my troops, and I still am. A certain young lad, David Veyes, particularly impressed me, his Radar and Scanning skills and general style of doing things made me proud to be their commanding officers. He was 26, far too young to be a slave, he had slick black hair, that had grown rough and dirty over the month long journey, and he is Libertonian. The complete opposite of me, Mr Bowen, 39 years of age, with dark brown hair, bright but bleary blue eyes, what used to be white skin, now covered in bruises and scratches from the rough treatment the slavers gave us. I'm Bretonian originally, and no one knows my first name aside from me and family or extremely close friends. What people don't know, can't hurt them. My thoughts were disrupted as the shift change alarm went off, signalling more than just a change of shift. It signalled a change of lifestyle, a change in the chain of command, and a change in our future.
With the one long tone reverberating throughout the ship as my guide, I drew my blade from its hiding spot, strapped between my tattered sock and my ankle. Around me I saw every other slave do the same, David Veyes, Michael Hall, Jake Brown, Solan Kain, Roman and I. All ready to head to the bridge, to gain control of the ship that had become our prison. The nearest guard was amazed by what he had just seen, and this amazement cost his life. Jake, a boy of just 19 years, thrust his carefully crafted blade clean through the guard's chest, claiming the first life of the day.
The C&C team, including me, gradually made our way to the bridge, having to pause at each bulkhead to slaughter anyone who got in our way. Eventually we got to the double sliding door that led to the bridge. We all knew that there would be charged weapons aimed at this door from the other side. But it had to be done, everyone took cover behind and object, and Roman, using his wishful thinking, threw a shoe at the control panel, opening the door with no one to be harmed. The slavers on the other side of the door seemed confused by this. And, taking advantage of the situation, the small group of slaves attacked. Several weapons were fired, but astonishingly, not one of us was majorly injured. We managed to subdue the majority of the senior officers without killing them. But anyone who interfered was informed that they will be shot. And then the informer did so, shooting the interferer either in the side of the head or plainly in the centre of the chest. After the brief conflict was over, us slaves took seats at our previously planned stations and David soon had communication with the rest of the ship. Roman used this to contact all group leaders to inform them of our success, and to ask for a status report. The final group of slavers were bunched together at the rear of the ship. Seeking to end the conflict quickly, Roman told me to order the men out of the rear sections. I willingly obliged, and then slumped into the captain's chair, thinking things through. According to the rest of the C&C team, Roman flooded the rear section of the ship with radiation from the ships old engines, poisoning the remaining slavers. Although I was too wrapped in thought to notice. We had done it, we had won, we had become the slaves who beat the slavers. We will be written in the history books, we will live better lives, and we had done it, All Together.
Chapter 3 - The Aftermath
'Victory is new to us, it will take a while to set in' ' An extract from David Veyes' Diary
1 pm, an hour and a half after the Riot
Roman had just finished making a celebratory announcement on the ships intercom, and cheers could be heard through the solid metal bulkheads. He then invited me into his new office, the previous captains' ready room. 'My friend, we have done well today, we have secured freedom!'
He said, in a happy tone, even happier than his usual voice, 'We will head to Coronado, to Barrier Gate Station, Where we live in peace. But for now, I need a sit-rep. How many did we lose?' He questioned, slightly sadder than before.
'We lost only 4 men sir, which leaves us with 49 operational crew members. This amount allows us to maintain the ship in full operational status.' I replied.
'Very good, now there is another problem.' He said. Clearly indicating that something was dwelling on his mind.
'What's that then sir?' I asked, as every subordinate should.
'Well, it seems that we weren't the only ones to take prisoners during our little escapade. We appear to have acquired eleven surviving slavers and guards. What do you think we should do with them?'
'We could drop them at the nearest base, or sell them as slaves themselves' Both I and Roman laughed at the irony.
'The nearest base is too far in the wrong direction,' Roman said after a brief period, 'it would be a waste of precious fuel. How many pods do we have? And how many people is each pod recommended to carry?'
'I believe we have thirteen escape pods on board, and each pod is recommended to carry four people, sir.' I responded
'Well then,' He said, with a grin on his face, 'We will give them two pods. It's only fair, they treat us as sub human, so they get sub human treatment in return.'
'That sounds reasonable to me.' I said, agreeing with Roman's thinking. Admiring his truly unique way of doing things.
'Very good, tell Solan to prepare to pods for launch, and have a team of men escort the prisoners the escape bays.' Roman ordered.
'Aye, sir' I said
'And'¦. Mr Bowen, stop with the formalities when it's just me and you around, it's kind of disturbing.' Said Roman, just before I left the room
'As you wish, Si- I mean Roman.' And with this I left his office, to begin captaining the vessel, christened the Desert Sun by the new crew, to the Coronado system.
Anyone wanna review it? Or am i to presume that is was so crap it killed everyone? (Or, specially requested by some people, so good it melted your eyes?)