The Spirit and the Wanderer

[coolandcoo]

Radiant, pulsing, glowing.

It was all he could think of, as he deftly guided their advanced, if meager sized, gunboat through those clouds that flanked the almost forbidden sector of space known as Omicron Iota. He knew they shouldn't of been there, though he had faith in his ship, the Kneph, and faith his co-pilot, Ensign Michaels, his captain however held a special place of loathing for him. He knew the only reason they were here, deep in hostile, unexplored space, was because the captain was bored. Brash, inconsiderate, and arrogant, it was much a surprise to him that their little gunboat had not met its end before with such leadership. Battles they had, mostly caused by the indomitable ego of the captain, but all was either won, or considered "Unfair." Even when the captain accepted defeat and made the order to retreat, the blame was laid heavily on the two crewmen, expected to fly an already undermanned gunboat against insurmountable odds. Even still, the losses were few, and did little to sway the resolve of "The Captain."

"Ensign Leyva! Quit your wide eyed gazing and keep this ship steady! There, uhh, turn the ship to the right a bit." The captain barked, leveling a stern finger on the back of the helmsman.

"You mean twenty degrees....sir?"

"Yeah yeah. Hmmpf, you knew what I meant. You don't need to question me Ensign!"

Enraged, he turned around, disregarding the controls for the moment, "Captain Davis, please, I've been promoted twice already, I am a lieutenant, not an ensign. Please remember that."

"That's enough! Get your hands back on the controls this instant, and scanning for those Nomads!" Satisfied, and feeling that his authority has for the moment been asserted, Captain Julius Davis settled back into his elevated command chair, smiling out of pleasure as the disgruntled helmsman turned around in spite. Clearing his throat, he pressed a button found on the arm of his chair, in fact, the only button he tended to push, and amusingly the only button that he knew. A calm, though robotic voice chimed through the cramped bridge then, "Log Start."

Davis let a hand settle under his shaved chin, trying his best to seem thoughtful, though he wasn't be filmed.

Soon, he began, speaking with a almost laughish confidence, "Three hours in, and still no sign of any alien activity. I myself have pioneered a new technique in driving out the scum, so it shouldn't be much longer. End report."

A curious Michaels then asked, "New technique...sir?"

"Damn right its new! What do you think we've been doing so far? Flying right through this nebula, we'll surely run into some nommies, or else we'll drive them to us, and right into my clutches!" Davis then laughed, failing to find any problem in his half cooked plan, "Onward! Leyva! Can't you make this thing go any faster?"

Leyva responded but absently tapping out a combination of buttons on a keypad next to him, the action resulting in a quick, "Good." from the captain.

"That didn't do anything..." Whispered a half amused Michaels.

"Shh, course not, this cloud has kept us at half power since we entered, but at least it keeps us hidden from the Nomads, something else the captain is better off not knowing."

"Ha! But really, maybe someday we should give old Davis a break..." Michaels was cut short by a low groan issued from the helmsman. Michaels piped up again, trying to appeal to the Lieutenant's common sense, "Ishmael, we both know hes a fool, but hes still a captain, he outranks us tenfold! If he ever found out about some of the..."

"Cut the chatter damnit! I swore I just saw something! Michaels, Power up the weapons!" Raking his fingers together with sudden glee, Davis leaned forward in his chair, eyes firmly glued out into the torrent of swirling blue that was the nebula.

"Aye sir," with followed was the slow rumble of lasers charging and coolants flowing. The bridge took out an air of urgency, but soon the silence was cut by a now decidedly annoyed Ishmael, "Captain, for god sake, there isn't anything there, but the longer we stay here, the more at danger we become! You know this is a waste of time and resources, can we please just turn back..." But as Ishmael turned around to address the captain, and try to appeal to the captain's hopefully growing boredom with the mission, was met instead with an expression of utter shock, for Davis's mouth was left slacked open, and his eyes grown wide. "Captain! Are you even..."


BROOOOOOAAAM


A buzzing drone flooded the bridge, prompting Ishmael to turn around and find himself equally in awe. Before them all was a creature, much larger then any other the three have ever encountered, and at least the size of a liberty cruiser. It glowed with an aqua shine, threatening insidious intent.


OOOORRRROOOM


The sound thundered again, this time followed by the steak of a seemingly endless trail of energy bolts that appeared to erupting from the skin of the creature itself.

"Re-return fire, don't let up!" Screamed a now consciously aware Davis.

"Sir! We have!" Bellowed Michaels, fear in his voice now at the sudden appearance of the nomad.

"Then why isn't it dead?!" The bridge shock with great force, throwing Davis from his lofty seat and into the panels that laid across the front viewport, now shoulder to shoulder between the two pilots. "Move move! Come on!"

Their ship was already drifting over the back of the great beast, though this did little to stop the near constant fire their gunboat sustained, "Rotate 180 degrees...open fire! Both razors!" The electric charged blasts from the duel razors tore into the nomad's exposed side, and for the moment, it ceased it's powerful assault. The entire crew was frozen in abject fear, unsure what to do next.

Uncontrolled, his emotions and fears brought to the forefront of his mind, Ishmael looked to Davis, who now at this moment was in the thick of it all, next to his two crewmates, for orders, guidance, anything. The captain wasn't able to form a single thought however before a flash of deep blue emulated from the very bowels of the massive Nomad, followed by a blast of energy that landed squarely into the front of the Kneph.

The force of blast seemed to effect the entire ship, for not only were the three crewmen thrown from their seats, sparks issuing from the flight consoles and wires becoming dislodged from the low ceiling, but the ship's outer hull was peeled away, the damage being most apparent at the impact site, the front, spreading outward like a terrible wound. Then darkness, lasting only a few seconds before the backup lights faded on, giving the heavily damaged bridge a surreal, rustic quality. Michaels and Ishmael seemed to be the first up, as they both turned around, looking for the captain. To their surprise, the captain seemed able to stand, but his face was shadowed in darkness. As he stumbled forward, he let a hand drag over his wounded face, and down the side of his right cheek, feeling the deep grooves and sheared flesh the nomad's powerful blast had caused. The pain failed to effect Davis in any physical way, he just kept walking forward at his awkward gait, hand still feeling over his face. After what felt to be an eternity, Davis croaked out, "Sta...status report..." causing the stunned onlookers to quickly survey the damaged screens and consoles that flanked both sides of the front viewport.

Michaels was the first to remark slowly, pain obvious in his voice, though he barely looked it, "Engines are...uhh, online, left turbines a bit damaged though, the cores at 30% though...most the weapons aren't registering, and the scans show the nomad has peeled off..."

Ishmael continued, "She's still flyable, in fact, we might be able to keep her together for the...jump back to Delta and then through Minor...damn....damn we were lucky." A soft smile began to play across Ishmael's lips as he turned to face Davis, choosing however to keep his eyes away from the captain's face, "Sir...I'll set our course right away..."

Davis spoke then, "Yes...set course...but we aren't headed for the jumphole...no no...follow the Nomad..."

"But sir!" They other two seemed to say in unison.

"Thats an order! Do it!"

Michaels was quick to take a seat back at the co-pilots chair, watching Ishmael intently, though his partner refused to move. "We can't survive another encounter with th-that thing! We need to try and radio back to the fleet, hell, we might not be able to even jump for all we know!"

But Davis wasn't keen on changing his mind, like so many other times when misfortune reared it's ugly head his way. Davis's serious tone was only made clearer by the sound of his sidearm being drawn, aimed squarely at the lieutenant, "Now fly this ship...or I swear, I'll shoot you where you stand for disobeying a superior officer!"

Ishmael swallowed hard, but gave in to the captain's wishes, taking a seat back at the controls, he diverted what remained of their powercore to the engines and took them off in the direction the Nomad had fled. Davis however, did not settle one bit, he kept his gun held firmly at his side, while his eyes watched with deadly obsession out the viewport. The nomad had not drifted far, and Ishmael made sure to bring their ship to a stop well outside the range of what he assumed the Nomad was capable of. It sensed them however, and quickly turned its massive jelly-like body to face them, but did little other then observe them, for whatever reason, be it curiosity or toying humor, it did not attack.

Davis said with a cold calmness, "Open fire..." But his voice soon became strained, further expressing his terrible hatred for the creature, "I want it's blood splattered over this vessel, I want it to pay for what it did to my face, I want it's sick brethren to know what I'm capable of!"

Ironically though, the weapons refused to open up, giving only a low buzz as Michaels typed away at the controls, "We don't have enough power to even consider bringing the weapons online! Its a failsafe...if we override it, well, we won't have enough energy to get his halfway home..."

"I don't care, override it."

"But sir!"

"Override it...now!" Davis leveled his sidearm at the back of the ensign's skull, "I want that thing dead, no matter the cost!"

"Davis! We won't survive this, don't you understand?!" Yelled an ever panicking Michaels.

"I understand completely Ensign..." Davis steadied the gun, his grip slowly tightening around the trigger, "You'll be remembered as a traitor..."















Audio Log entry #4324

//:To- Order High Command
//:Sender- Lieutenant Ishmael Leyva


Message Starts

"To those listening, this is Lieutenant Leyva, and yesterday, I committed treason. I shot my commanding officer, Captain Davis, on a patrol in the Omicron Iota system, but only out of fear, for he was not thinking clearly, and was ready to shoot Ensign Michaels himself. After Davis was put down, we did leave the system safely, but I have little knowledge of what happened between shooting Davis, and the trip back home.However, what happened, happened, and I am prepared to pay for my crimes. I shall await your wise judgment as I wait grounded on Toledo. Thank you..."

Message Ends