Dimension
Page 11
The crew quarters is the mid-deck of the Marauding Exile, with the command deck the first, and the engineering and cargo bay deck the third. Before Rockland is a vast open mess area, where the crew gather for meals and can relax. A comfortable lounge is positioned behind the kitchen area, and a large dining table is beside the circular bench of the kitchen.
Flashy for a warship. Rockland wonders if the retrofits were just to give the crew a life of luxury before this mission kills them all.
Several of his crew give him snappy salutes as he passes them, and he keeps his calm as he returns their salutes and mumbles for them to be at ease, walking to the horizontal hall on the other side of the mess. He worries about his crew, but more than them he worries about Lieutenant Morrison and her fireteam. He cannot seem to push the thought of a Paragon threat out of his mind. This mission was supposed to be a simple swing-in-and-extract, not a stand against five Paragons. He had not been expecting any Serenity resistance after what was happening to other planets in this star system, and they seemed to just come out of nowhere.
The Marauding Exile’s system-wide pulsar scanners picked up nothing at all in the Messiah System, so how five SSP’s arrived with no transport at all remains to be a mystery. Unless they travelled here alone from outside the system, but then why not just travel in a warship and drop from orbit? His mind spins with confusion.
Rockland proceeds to his private cabin and seals the morphing door shut behind him, listening to the oddly pleasant mechanistic sound. He sighs as he is finally alone, removing his navy jacket and tossing it carelessly on the chair at his workstation, now just wearing a simple white shirt.
The interior of his quarters is simple, with the glossy nikita walls and a military grade bed suspended in the corner of the room on a kinetic support stand. To the right of the single size bed is the door, and at the foot of his bed is his antique wooden workstation and equipment bench. Even the lights on the ceiling light the room poorly, proving that even commanding officers get shitty quarters, but at least he has one to himself rather than having to bunk like the rest of his crew.
For now, there is not much he can do but wait. He expects a SITREP from Morrison within the hour, and another from Chief Lander and his progress on cracking into the facility network.
Sitting down at his workstation, the commander buries his head in his hands momentarily, and now rubs his chin and activates his datapad, a flat solidgraphic interface that projects itself above his desk. Like most technology using kinetic light energy within the UEU, the datapad is white. This technology is considered primitive within the UEU, whereas Serenity uses a more advanced technology that links directly to their neural activity via their neural-roots and datakeys. The UEU simply does not have this technology yet, though they have been trying to replicate it, so far without success.
When gods and psychics are at the aid, the damned spiritual tree-huggers can advance and leave the more scientific UEU behind holding sticks and stones. Ironic.
Rockland uses his fingers to scroll through the touch-screen, accessing his unfinished progress report to the Universal Eden Union brass. He considers telling a small white lie that his techs have cracked the encryption and are now downloading all that they can, but now thinks better of it, knowing that if things went to hell then trying to look good for the brass will be the last of his worries. Honestly, he had not expected it to take this long to hack into the station, but then again, Serenity does not usually flee their planets, or without purging the systems first.
He wonders what had made them leave in such a hurry. Yes the Messiah System has been hectic, but so far, Olympus is fine. The situation throughout Scattered Planet has to be because of Serenity and their cursed gods, so why have they distorted their own territory? Even though the admirals believe that Serenity and the Zodiacs are to blame for these events, he is not entirely convinced. Maybe it is just a natural phenomenon? Or maybe the gods are mad at the whole of humanity and Serenity is not solely responsible at all? Either way, it is not his place to make the calls, all he has to do is follow orders and hope the brass and the scientists know what they are doing. He was chosen to lead Operation: Ghost Tempest for that very reason.
PREDATOR AND PREY
The blue jungle is sheeted in green. Leaves shuffle silently in the whispering wind, beckoning him forward. He follows them, his awareness pricked, his senses heightened by his augmented nervous system, and his night vision highlighting his perception.
Deo proceeds carefully through the hugging sway of the foliage, his muscular form carried with surprising deftness, making use of his lean and well-proportioned build. He places his boots across the jungle floor without even the crack of a broken twig.
Behind him, the others follow just as carefully, the vivid green eyes of the Paragons almost the only thing visible in the darkness.
Deo smells the familiar scent of burning light energy on the wind, and just ahead, he hears a hurried scuffling and instantly holds up a balled fist, signalling the others to stop. Crouching, he reaches over his right shoulder and grasps his rifle, holding it firmly at its grip with a tense hand before morphing it open. He knows the sound of the morphing rifle will give away his position and take away his advantage, so he waits for the perfect moment, wanting to get a glimpse of his target, or at least hear it again, to pinpoint its location before he activates his weapon.
The Paragon tautens his grip of his rifle in anticipation, frozen, not a twitch of a nerve, not a depletion of balance.
A stir within the dense glades, barely perceivable, even with the aid of cybernetic enhancements.
Deo’s senses leap. His fingers clamp their grip, rifle still dormant. The leaping senses are internal as his eyes flash red, thermal detection active.
The scuffling evolves into a flurry of motion. The weapon explodes in his hands, morphing itself into a shotgun form and preparing to fire its loaded lightning shard. And just as fast as lightning, Deo aims down the weapon’s sights and clenches his jaw, his brow deep as he fires a cluster of high voltage shards at the centre mass of his target.
No time to flee.
A painful squeal invades the air, and a burst of electrical energy pulsates through the foliage like a strike of lightning, followed by a splattering of thick blue blood.
Satisfied, Deo lowers his shotgun and now rushes forward, brushing aside the thick growth to see a dead creature lying limp amongst the leaves.
A rush of wind wafts past him and a soft voice speaks a jumble of harsh words, though he does not understand her.
Kitera rushes over to the dead canterpaw and stoops to her knees beside it, her hands gliding delicately over the smooth fur of its abdomen, dodging the mangled muscle tissue that is exposed in a bloody and burned mess. She continues to mumble in her own language, obviously angered by the death of the animal.
"It’s dead," Deo grunts, confused by her reaction. He watches her as she ignores him and passes her fingers over the canterpaw's eyes, smoothing its lids down. The Cipher growls at him in a strange guttural vibration.
“It’s also an endangered species,” Mazayus scolds in his usual monotone.
The canterpaws are herbivorous mammals, and usually dwell in the warm jungles of Isis, Olympus. Although they are native to Isis, reports of sightings on other continents are becoming more frequent, though it is currently unknown how they are migrating across vast expanses of ocean, especially in their sparse numbers.
They are very similar to a horse in both behavioural patterns and physiology, though they are not territorial and do not live in herds. Canterpaws sometimes band together in small groups, such as pregnant females who need the numbers for protection from predators or male canterpaws. When the need to gather is no longer necessary, they will eventually part ways, incapable of developing close bonds.
Smaller and more nimble than an Earthen horse, the canterpaws can typically grow up to a metre in height and six feet in length. They have thin blue-grey fur coats, long snouts, brill
iant blue eyes, no tails or stumps, and three toes on each foot rather than hooves like a horse. Their ears sit pricked atop their heads, but are only half the size of an average horse, despite their exceptional hearing.
As Kitera continues to mumble in her own language, Deo grits his teeth together for a second, feeling slightly guilty. How was he supposed to know that it was endangered? He morphs his shotgun to fold inward from the barrel and slings it over his shoulder again, the morphing holsters on his back grabbing the weapon from his hands and holding it firmly in place.
"D," Boone bites quietly, also slinging his Phoenix back over his shoulder. "I thought you were gonna shotty a UEU in the balls, but oh no, T-rex just wants to hunt. Plus you just alerted the entire fucking jungle to us..."
“They know we’re coming,” Deo assures, “and we can handle them.”
And just now, a horrid growl tumbles through the glades of darkness toward them, making the hairs on their bodies prick in both awareness and alarm. The Paragons instantaneously prime their weaponry and scan the depths of the jungle where the carnivorous greeting had originated, their highlighting optic irises beaming green night vision to their visual senses. Kitera freezes and stays in a low, almost predatory crouch, mumbling sharply in her own tongue as if trying to ward the creature off.
“Bezun,” Mazayus warns. “Highly impenetrable hides, switch to nikita shards.”
The Paragons do as they are ordered and quickly exchange their current loaded shards for nikita shards, which will act as armour piercing rounds.
“I think you stole someone’s din-din,” Boone comments quietly to Deo, who ignores him and binds his grip on his rifle in preparation.
Suddenly, something large and dark charges from amongst the foliage ahead and pounces straight for them, to which the Paragons all leap from its trajectory and swing around to open fire as it disappears again through the dark jungle.
Natheus enters a crouch and scans with his Parallel, free hand reaching for his Phoenix as it contorts to a sword form in smooth motions.
Boone backs up to Kitera and signs for her to get even lower, preparing his entity shielding in a glowing nimbus over her physique. “Can you handle that?” he quips to Deo.
Mazayus and Deo advance through the jungle after the bezun, aiming to divert its attention away from the vulnerable Cipher. If the creature had been strategic, it would have gone for the weakest target, not the four large armed soldiers.
Taking point, Mazayus utilises his hybrid shotguns for close range. While covering his rear, Deo backs up behind him. The two reach a standstill once they feel confident of their distance from the others, and very much aware of the proximity of the stalking bezun.
The resonating snarls of the bezun can be heard clearly, challenging them for the right to claim the prey. The two Paragons stand their ground, waiting for the predator to come to them, and it does.
Charging again, the canine-like creature bounds for them through the air, aiming for Mazayus with its penetrating blue eyes. Pumping his dual shotguns at the bezun, he ducks down just in time, the creature sailing over him and instead changing its focus to Deo, who stands ready for it.
Mazayus’ nikita shards had penetrated its hide near the throat, giving Deo the chance to finish the job by surging shards into its armoured flesh. The nikita encased bolts of energy erupt from his rifle’s barrel and rip into the bezun’s exposed meat, but to Deo’s surprise, the creature does not even utter a flinch of pain. Instead, it throws its large form into a deadly charge, leaping upon Deo and tackling him to the ground under the weight of its over three hundred kilograms.
Deo thumps down under the foliage, Mazayus’ alarmed call merely just background chatter to his refocusing brain. His senses hone in on survival mode, breaking apart the frenzied grappling that slurs together in the minds of less advanced men. His reflexes sharpen, and he blocks a launching set of teeth with a swift blow to the jaw.
Bleeding heavily, the carnivore quickly recovers from the punch and continues to snap at Deo’s throat in a fit of fury, its colossal paws successfully pinning one of his arms to the ground, the other his torso. But with his free hand, the Paragon holds the creature at bay by its jaw, driving his knee up into its ribs in an attempt to crunch its relentless energy and free his arm. But his augmented strength means nothing against a carnivore three times his weight, and he can barely continue to hold its jaws at bay with one straining arm.
Compact clusters of rounds impact the bezun’s back, Mazayus coming to his aid. This successfully enrages the creature as it rears to howl a painful answer.
Deo takes his chance as his arm is released, grabbing for his rifle in time before the bezun lunges back to its new prey in a stubborn, possessive effort. Driving his rifle to its chest, he throws more shards into it at point blank, blue blood pouring on him in a gush.
Still, the multi-hearted creature thrashes upon him, razor sharp teeth snapping with hungry saliva. Deo roars his own battle cry as he continues to unload his shards into the writhing creature’s armoured flesh, and right when he is sure that its fierce jaws will get access to grip him around the throat, a single sniper shard lunges through the bezun’s already open throat and finishes it off. The dead predator slumps upon Deo.
Mazayus kicks the bezun off Deo and gives him a hand up, and the two Paragons laugh and pat each other on the back in praise, the short hunt a sport to them. Near death experiences are a common factor in every Paragon’s life, best to make the most of it.
As they reunite with the others, Kitera lifts her eyes up from the dead canterpaw and glares at the blood soaked Deo. A fire burns in her eyes. "Via isik!" she whispers hoarsely, her usual soft voice now cruel and poison. "You are reckless! Why did you kill this creature?"
After nodding to Natheus in thanks, Deo frowns and looks to the dead canterpaw behind her, failing to understand her anger. "For food," he answers bluntly. He moves over and picks the creature up with one hand, holding it by its scruff. "We have fire shards and blades. If you want to starve, be my guest, Lady Cipher."
Kitera's eyes burn a whitish silver in anger at his tone, looking up at him with disgust, and Deo meets her glare just as vividly, his optic irises wild with barely contained anger.
"Ok," Mazayus interjects firmly, moving forward between the two as they continue to glare at each other. "I think we all need some rest, and Deo is right, we need to eat something if we want to keep our strength up. According to my datakey, most fruits in the jungles are poisonous to human anatomy, so we have no other option. Everyone is tired after the cryo-stasis, and I think we should all get a few hours sleep. Agreed?”
Boone nods his head vigorously in agreement. “We can’t fight a ship-load of UEU straight outta the freezer,” he reminds them.
Deo and Kitera finally release their glares from each other and seem to relax.
“We move at the first sign of daylight,” Deo adds.
Natheus silently moves ahead, his entity coming alive momentarily as his symbols flash over his body, giving him a boost of electrolytes to keep himself alert. "I will watch over you."
Mazayus nods to him in acknowledgment, glancing at Kitera. "Deo, if you want to prepare your kill, you better get to it. I'm sorry, Kitera. Know that it died quickly."
"No, I understand. It is the harsh way of life. We need the food, and the creature has passed on with the Zodiacs. I just would have preferred it to have a cleaner death." Kitera looks to Deo again, though not in anger, but with regret, almost sadness.
He answers her eyes with his own and feels a crisp air flow through him, and he knows that she is communicating with the Zodiacs. He studies her blank face, feeling a little uncomfortable under her stare as he holds the dead and bleeding animal in his hands.
"The Zodiacs are forgiving," she finally says, breaking her stare and moving away from him.
Deo just watches after her in surprise, and now gazes down awkwardly at the canterpaw in his arms.
THE ANCIENT CIPHERS
Grabbing a fire shard from his morphing utility pack on his arm, Deo holds the tiny energy core in his fingers, and with a single thought via his datakey, he watches as the shard suspends itself and bursts into a hot flame. Natural lighting is best when skinning and gutting a deer back on Earth, night vision washes out the detail of the fine ligaments and vital organs.
With quick, practised motions, Deo proceeds to skin the canterpaw, ringing his blade around the ends of the limbs and flicking up beneath the skin to shred it from the muscle tissue and bone. Now, the aid of gravity is needed.
“Boone,” he summons with an updraft of his chin.
Boone nods and grabs the canterpaw by its skinned ankles, hefting it up effortlessly to hang upside down, lukewarm blood spilling on the jungle floor to be returned to Olympus.
Deo revolves his Phoenix sword in his grasp, getting a firm grip of the hilt, and now, slashes at the hanging canterpaw’s exposed groin, rips the skin open, and peels down through its abdomen, cutting his way through as flaps of skin cling to the ribs.
Kitera watches him with an admiration that shames her. The way he works, swift and decisive swipes, brutal delivery of force, his muscles providing, and that frown, the little display of focus that commonly takes place on his face.
Once the hide is dangling limp about the neck, Deo does something that causes the Cipher to gasp. He chops the head off. Not a clean swipe, but a hack. Unceremonious. Disrespectful. Savage. All kills in providence must be honoured.