Homecoming
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esteroth12
- Posts: 501
- Joined: 18 May 2006, 21:19
A speech...then a fight to balance it out. Some Teresa Vs a gang of burly men action, with lots of monofilament and rubber bullets...enjoy.
Jeremy breathed in. Nervous. Push the nervousness away, push it out. He ordered his speech in his mind, trying to get everything right and on task. He could do this.
Jeremy stepped into the limelight, beaming. "Hello ladies and gentlemen" he said, "Jeremy Williams here tonight"
The crowd did not applaud, but he didn't expect them too. They were a smattering of intellectuals and others who were mildly interested in what he had to say. "Now...there is an evil in this universe" Jeremy said, "It's not the Sanders. Not anymore. The USHS wants us to THINK its the Sanders, to frighten us into reliving the Sanders could return at any moment. But if they could return...then why haven't they?"
The crowd laughed slightly, some of them grinning.
"Its been over six hundred years sense the End Times. And yet we have yet to see a SINGLE Sander beyond the level of an animal. They are gone. They are dead, and buried. We have WON! So why do we still cower beneath our shields, hide in our beds, clutching out matter negation guns in terror, and why do we still kowtow to a capitalistic government like the United States of Human Space. The End Times are past, we no longer need slaves. We no longer need indentured servitude. We no longer need religion! We no longer need to be tied down by the mistakes of the past"
He grinned, "It..can work. We can make it work, by learning of what our forefathers had done. Lenin. Marx. Trotsky. They had an idea that was good and proper, but at the time technology was not high enough to make it work. But we have advanced. We have become better. Communism CAN work!" The crowd started to clap.
"What about the Tatts!" someone shouted.
The crowd stopped clapping, looking at the man who had spoken. He was standing in the back, a hood drawn over his head.
"What about the Tatts?" Jeremy asked, breathing in slowly. He had to be calm. The question had thrown him off balance. He had never thought that would come up. What did his books teach him? What...
"What about the Tatts" Jeremy repeated, playing for time.
"They have built roads, hospitals, schools..." the man said, "And yet you want to do away with religion"
"What have the Tatts done for us that a normal government could not also do? Roads...hospitals...schools. You know what else the Tatts have done?"
He paused for effect.
"Anyone here over a hundred" nearly everyone in the room raised their hand, "Over two hundred?" Only a few hands dropped. "Over three hundred?" Only a few hands remained.
"Do those that lived to those times...do you remember the pogroms? The... cleaning camps? The witch hunts, the massacres, the...the Great Step Forward?"
Those older then two hundred all nodded somberly. "But...do we talk about it? Do we call attention to it in school? Do our children know very much of it, other then vague mentions of something dark in our pasts? No. The Tattooed, with their oh-so-holy crusade against...who?"
Jeremy paused, stopping his pacing. He stood, stalk still, and remembered he had something in his quarters. Something he had thought to use in a completely different speech, on a completely different planet, for a completely different reason. "Wait" He said, raising his hand, "Wait and ponder what I have said".
He walked, for running would have been undignified. The crowd murmured amongst themselves, talking about the speech. Jeremy rummaged through his rather dirty office till he found what he was looking for.
He walked back to the stage he was speaking at. The crowd quieted, each of them more than ready to listen and watch. Jeremy breathed in, slowly. He was still nervous. This could either work...or blow up in his face.
"Who, I said" Jeremy started again, "Did you all think that over. Who exactly were the Tatt's...protecting us from. What? They must have done an excellent job because we don't seem to have any more enemies in our own race left" Other than Stenches, pirates and the occasional religious scuffle, Jeremy thought.
"Who..." Jeremy held up the small disk he had. He held it in the air, letting light catch on it, reflecting into the eyes of the audience. He dropped the disk and it slapped face down. When it hit the power button was also turned on and the disk hummed to life.
A image was displayed, hovering in mid air. The lights of the room automatically darkened, the computer in the room sensing that a hologram was being displayed.
It was a woman, her husband and their child, all sitting in front of a camera and smiling. The man was a completely normal individual, nothing special there. The child was normal, though he was almost a carbon copy of his father. The woman however. Her head was normal, a bit angular and bone. Her arms were narrow, as if the bones were thinner and...sharper somehow. From her back, however, two large, feathered wings sprouted from her shoulder blades. Her left wing was wrapped around her husband, and her right wing wrapped around her son.
"This" Jeremy said, "This is the product of the Golden Age before the End Times. Genetic Engineering beyond expanding and increasing our life span. We had started to change our bodies, like this. Is this woman...evil. Is she a threat? Does she look harmful in any way shape or form?" Jeremy paused for effect, "No. This is the threat the Tatts defended us so vigorously against. The alien. The one who is different. And yet...is this anyone other than a woman with different DNA?"
The crowd was shaking its head, collectively. Jeremy could see all the signs. It was working.
"These people were rounded up and shot, burned, gassed...it was the worst Holocaust in human history, leaving billions dead... even after the catastrophic loss of life during the End Times" Jeremy felt his nervousness vanish, his face going red as he talked, "And this is why religion, all religion must leave. It is nothing more then chains that BIND us to the old ways, to the old paths of truth. But can truth remain true after a hundred, two hundred, four hundred years?"
"No!" Jeremy picked up the hologram, turning the disk off as she did so, "A thousand times no! It is time to free ourselves...from the past!".
The crowd burst into standing ovation, many of them getting to their feet and applauding.
Afterwards Jeremy was handing out his new book, not wanting to sign any of them. That was a frivolous thing to put on a book, as his name was already on the front cover. And yet people kept asking him and he kept shaking his head. Finally the people had all left, each of them with a copy of Jeremy's book. He sat at the table he had given them out at and looked around the now vacated room. He allowed himself a moment of pleasure. He had done it again, and the nervousness had never gotten bad enough to force him to stop, like it had that one time in the beginning of his career.
A man who had stayed so perfectly still, standing near the back of the room, moved. Jereme saw the sudden motion and was afraid. The man strode to the table, a hood drawn about his eyes. "You mock my faith" He said, a knife suddenly in his hands. Jeremy had time to be shocked and terrified as he stood. Then a knife was pressed against his neck, not drawing blood. "You argue quite well for a heathen" The man said, half his face visible, Latin scrawled over the skin, almost readable at this distance.
"I..I" Jeremy stammered.
"And...I'd like to thank you" the knife dropped from Jeremy neck and a hand found his hand. He shook it. "I'd like you to meat some of my friends who believe as you do" The man said, "They would be quite pleased to lend some help to your movement. We can fix the mistakes of the past...finally"
"First" Jeremy said, his fear abating slightly, "a name" he almost squeaked when he said name.
The man threw his hood back, showing that his entire face was covered with drawings. "Cardinal Ironsides, leader of the Golgothan Congregation"
"Car...Cardinal!" Jeremy squeaked.
"We have much work to do" Ironsides said, taking Jeremy's arm and leading him out of the chamber.
------------------------
The ├óÔé¼┼ôGentleman Haven├óÔé¼┬Ø was a musky inn. The counter of the place was filled with Muslims, each of them hunched over and drinking. The tables had small poker games running, with a incredibly annoying 'traditional Islamic' song being played through cheap speakers. The only man who looked even remotely alive was a large chested individual with a huge, bushy black beard and a cigar chomped between his teeth. He was laughing rambunctiously, taking the cigar out of his mouth to drink to beer.
There was a faint rustling sound, and a soft pip sound. His cigar tumbled in half, as if cut by a razer. The man stared at his cigar, dumbly wondering if he had bitten to hard down on it. His eye caught something glimmering in the air, catching the light in just the right way for him to see it. Then it was gone, and a woman was stepping out from the shadows, her left hand raised, a white glove pulled over it, her teeth gleaming under a shadowed face.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh dear...I missed├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, her voice carrying over the room. It was suddenly silent. The cheesy music played for a few more seconds, but then someone kicked the jukebox and it shut up.
├óÔé¼┼ôWh..Who are you!├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with the cigar blustered.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not a very good Muslim...can't even follow a simple tenet like not smoking. It hurts you, after all├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man's forehead furrowed and he slipped off his stool, standing at his full hight. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs it the place of a woman to question a man?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, setting his drink down.
The woman stepped into the light and everyone in the pub stood, their chairs rumbling over the floor as they did so.
The entire left side of her face was pattered with scrawling Latin, and her left arm was covered with Latin. What they could see of her chest, which was exposed far more than any proper woman would care to, it was also covered with Latin. Her grin was downright predatory, and there was a glint in her eyes that made even the most brave men in the pub to do a double take.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou have a great deal of nerve to come in here...heretic!├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with the cigar puffed up his chest. His friends, a motley collection of scraggly men, some with turbans, the rest agreeing that wearing a turban and a spacesuit was just too much trouble.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou have a great deal of nerve...stealing from a church├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, throwing her head back and staring down at the man, her face making it quite obvious what she thought of him.
The man bristled, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe steal nothing...we liberate├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you even know what you stole?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, slowly crouching, readying herself.
├óÔé¼┼ôA holy relic of yours...but lets consider it pay back for New Jeru-├óÔé¼┬Ø The man started. Then Teresa flew forward, her right leg flying around to slam into his face. He was sent flying, crashing into the wall. Bottles collapsed, glass shattered.
├óÔé¼┼ôStop bringing up that DAMN battle!├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa snarled, ├óÔé¼┼ôIt was OUR city! OURS!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Two men rushed her, but Teresa jumped back, landing on a table. The people who had been using the table ran at her. Teresa kicked one, grinning as her foot broke their nose. The man tumbled backwards, smashing a chair.
A man picked up a chair and hurled it at Teresa. Her hand darted out and the chair flew past her, sliced clean in half. She tightened her fingers and the monofilament slid back into her little spool. The man who had thrown the chair gaped, then ran at her. Teresa abandoned the table, knowing it to be an untenable position. Then she ducked under the table.
The men surrounded the table, each of them pulling out a rather nasty assortment of knives.
Then smoke exploded from under the table, filling the air. The man who had held the cigar was sent into a horrible coughing fit, his face reddening. The smoke cleared and the woman was gone. The men looked around, whispering to each other, fear plain on some of their voices. The man who had held the cigar looked around, his face still red from the coughing.
├óÔé¼┼ôFor someone who smokes...you can't take it very well├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said.
The men turned, facing her. She was standing in the back, grinning, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut this wont do...five knives against little old me?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ômore then that├óÔé¼┬Ø The man who had held the cigar said, pulling a gun out. He was joined by two others, who also had guns.
Teresa swept her hand out. They heard a rustling sound. Then the man felt his gun jerk slightly, as if someone was grabbing onto it. Then the barrel fell off, the edge of the cut mirrored by the monofilament wire. The other guns fell apart, falling to pieces.
Teresa nodded, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd now to return the favor├óÔé¼┬Ø she said. The Vindicator leaped into her right hand. She fired two shots. A man who had held the gun fell, two dull impacts throwing him backwards. The men with knifes ran forward, shouting a death cry. Teresa kicked a knife out of one of their hands, then shot another in the face. He fell, hand flying to his head. He was still alive, to his shock.
Teresa swept the Vindicator around, bullets flying from its barrel, its distinctive bark filling the room, smoke pouring from the barrel. Men fell before her. But no blood sprayed. No screams rent the air. No bones shattered, flesh did not tear.
All that was left after a brief melee was the man who had held the cigar. He gaped at Teresa, who stepped over the moaning, groaning bodies that had been his gang. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa flipped a switch on her glove, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhere is the artifact?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI...I will never tell├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said, showing the normal pigheadedness attributed to males.
Teresa snapped her finger out and a thin black wire shot from the index finger of her glove. It settled around the man's neck. Teresa tightened.
The man felt a wire tighten around his neck, sure the monofilament would slice him as easily as it would with the guns. But rather he simply felt a noose constrict. He couldn't breath. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa walked to him as he sank to his knees, gasping for air, ├óÔé¼┼ôI can kill you very slowly and painfully...where is the artifact!├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man pointed behind the bar. Teresa tightened monetarily and the man blacked out. She stood above him, shaking her head. The others were starting to get up, but Teresa shot them a few more times with the Vindicator to keep them down. She walked around the back of the bar and looked around. She found a box that looked unusually well protected and stove it in with a kick. She reached in and took out the device, undamaged.
Teresa stood up, grinning. One of the men slipped a gun he had had on his person and had not taken out when the others had. He brought it up, aiming at Teresa. There were others in the way, but he thought he could-
The gun rattled, five bullets slamming out of the barrel, shell casings pattering on the floor. Teresa spun, hearing the noise. Two men had been hit and were lying, and bleedings. Teresa's face was a mask of rage and she swept her hand about. The man felt a tug on his wrist and his hand detached, blood fountaining. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou have stolen life├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, her teeth gritted, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat is the price for a thief├óÔé¼┬Ø
She walked out of the tavern, leaving the shouts and moans behind her. She staggered into an ally way, her right hand clutching her stomach. She pressed against the wall and brought her hand to her face, seeing the redness clinging to her fingertips. Teresa sank down the side of the wall.
Jeremy breathed in. Nervous. Push the nervousness away, push it out. He ordered his speech in his mind, trying to get everything right and on task. He could do this.
Jeremy stepped into the limelight, beaming. "Hello ladies and gentlemen" he said, "Jeremy Williams here tonight"
The crowd did not applaud, but he didn't expect them too. They were a smattering of intellectuals and others who were mildly interested in what he had to say. "Now...there is an evil in this universe" Jeremy said, "It's not the Sanders. Not anymore. The USHS wants us to THINK its the Sanders, to frighten us into reliving the Sanders could return at any moment. But if they could return...then why haven't they?"
The crowd laughed slightly, some of them grinning.
"Its been over six hundred years sense the End Times. And yet we have yet to see a SINGLE Sander beyond the level of an animal. They are gone. They are dead, and buried. We have WON! So why do we still cower beneath our shields, hide in our beds, clutching out matter negation guns in terror, and why do we still kowtow to a capitalistic government like the United States of Human Space. The End Times are past, we no longer need slaves. We no longer need indentured servitude. We no longer need religion! We no longer need to be tied down by the mistakes of the past"
He grinned, "It..can work. We can make it work, by learning of what our forefathers had done. Lenin. Marx. Trotsky. They had an idea that was good and proper, but at the time technology was not high enough to make it work. But we have advanced. We have become better. Communism CAN work!" The crowd started to clap.
"What about the Tatts!" someone shouted.
The crowd stopped clapping, looking at the man who had spoken. He was standing in the back, a hood drawn over his head.
"What about the Tatts?" Jeremy asked, breathing in slowly. He had to be calm. The question had thrown him off balance. He had never thought that would come up. What did his books teach him? What...
"What about the Tatts" Jeremy repeated, playing for time.
"They have built roads, hospitals, schools..." the man said, "And yet you want to do away with religion"
"What have the Tatts done for us that a normal government could not also do? Roads...hospitals...schools. You know what else the Tatts have done?"
He paused for effect.
"Anyone here over a hundred" nearly everyone in the room raised their hand, "Over two hundred?" Only a few hands dropped. "Over three hundred?" Only a few hands remained.
"Do those that lived to those times...do you remember the pogroms? The... cleaning camps? The witch hunts, the massacres, the...the Great Step Forward?"
Those older then two hundred all nodded somberly. "But...do we talk about it? Do we call attention to it in school? Do our children know very much of it, other then vague mentions of something dark in our pasts? No. The Tattooed, with their oh-so-holy crusade against...who?"
Jeremy paused, stopping his pacing. He stood, stalk still, and remembered he had something in his quarters. Something he had thought to use in a completely different speech, on a completely different planet, for a completely different reason. "Wait" He said, raising his hand, "Wait and ponder what I have said".
He walked, for running would have been undignified. The crowd murmured amongst themselves, talking about the speech. Jeremy rummaged through his rather dirty office till he found what he was looking for.
He walked back to the stage he was speaking at. The crowd quieted, each of them more than ready to listen and watch. Jeremy breathed in, slowly. He was still nervous. This could either work...or blow up in his face.
"Who, I said" Jeremy started again, "Did you all think that over. Who exactly were the Tatt's...protecting us from. What? They must have done an excellent job because we don't seem to have any more enemies in our own race left" Other than Stenches, pirates and the occasional religious scuffle, Jeremy thought.
"Who..." Jeremy held up the small disk he had. He held it in the air, letting light catch on it, reflecting into the eyes of the audience. He dropped the disk and it slapped face down. When it hit the power button was also turned on and the disk hummed to life.
A image was displayed, hovering in mid air. The lights of the room automatically darkened, the computer in the room sensing that a hologram was being displayed.
It was a woman, her husband and their child, all sitting in front of a camera and smiling. The man was a completely normal individual, nothing special there. The child was normal, though he was almost a carbon copy of his father. The woman however. Her head was normal, a bit angular and bone. Her arms were narrow, as if the bones were thinner and...sharper somehow. From her back, however, two large, feathered wings sprouted from her shoulder blades. Her left wing was wrapped around her husband, and her right wing wrapped around her son.
"This" Jeremy said, "This is the product of the Golden Age before the End Times. Genetic Engineering beyond expanding and increasing our life span. We had started to change our bodies, like this. Is this woman...evil. Is she a threat? Does she look harmful in any way shape or form?" Jeremy paused for effect, "No. This is the threat the Tatts defended us so vigorously against. The alien. The one who is different. And yet...is this anyone other than a woman with different DNA?"
The crowd was shaking its head, collectively. Jeremy could see all the signs. It was working.
"These people were rounded up and shot, burned, gassed...it was the worst Holocaust in human history, leaving billions dead... even after the catastrophic loss of life during the End Times" Jeremy felt his nervousness vanish, his face going red as he talked, "And this is why religion, all religion must leave. It is nothing more then chains that BIND us to the old ways, to the old paths of truth. But can truth remain true after a hundred, two hundred, four hundred years?"
"No!" Jeremy picked up the hologram, turning the disk off as she did so, "A thousand times no! It is time to free ourselves...from the past!".
The crowd burst into standing ovation, many of them getting to their feet and applauding.
Afterwards Jeremy was handing out his new book, not wanting to sign any of them. That was a frivolous thing to put on a book, as his name was already on the front cover. And yet people kept asking him and he kept shaking his head. Finally the people had all left, each of them with a copy of Jeremy's book. He sat at the table he had given them out at and looked around the now vacated room. He allowed himself a moment of pleasure. He had done it again, and the nervousness had never gotten bad enough to force him to stop, like it had that one time in the beginning of his career.
A man who had stayed so perfectly still, standing near the back of the room, moved. Jereme saw the sudden motion and was afraid. The man strode to the table, a hood drawn about his eyes. "You mock my faith" He said, a knife suddenly in his hands. Jeremy had time to be shocked and terrified as he stood. Then a knife was pressed against his neck, not drawing blood. "You argue quite well for a heathen" The man said, half his face visible, Latin scrawled over the skin, almost readable at this distance.
"I..I" Jeremy stammered.
"And...I'd like to thank you" the knife dropped from Jeremy neck and a hand found his hand. He shook it. "I'd like you to meat some of my friends who believe as you do" The man said, "They would be quite pleased to lend some help to your movement. We can fix the mistakes of the past...finally"
"First" Jeremy said, his fear abating slightly, "a name" he almost squeaked when he said name.
The man threw his hood back, showing that his entire face was covered with drawings. "Cardinal Ironsides, leader of the Golgothan Congregation"
"Car...Cardinal!" Jeremy squeaked.
"We have much work to do" Ironsides said, taking Jeremy's arm and leading him out of the chamber.
------------------------
The ├óÔé¼┼ôGentleman Haven├óÔé¼┬Ø was a musky inn. The counter of the place was filled with Muslims, each of them hunched over and drinking. The tables had small poker games running, with a incredibly annoying 'traditional Islamic' song being played through cheap speakers. The only man who looked even remotely alive was a large chested individual with a huge, bushy black beard and a cigar chomped between his teeth. He was laughing rambunctiously, taking the cigar out of his mouth to drink to beer.
There was a faint rustling sound, and a soft pip sound. His cigar tumbled in half, as if cut by a razer. The man stared at his cigar, dumbly wondering if he had bitten to hard down on it. His eye caught something glimmering in the air, catching the light in just the right way for him to see it. Then it was gone, and a woman was stepping out from the shadows, her left hand raised, a white glove pulled over it, her teeth gleaming under a shadowed face.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh dear...I missed├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, her voice carrying over the room. It was suddenly silent. The cheesy music played for a few more seconds, but then someone kicked the jukebox and it shut up.
├óÔé¼┼ôWh..Who are you!├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with the cigar blustered.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not a very good Muslim...can't even follow a simple tenet like not smoking. It hurts you, after all├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man's forehead furrowed and he slipped off his stool, standing at his full hight. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs it the place of a woman to question a man?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, setting his drink down.
The woman stepped into the light and everyone in the pub stood, their chairs rumbling over the floor as they did so.
The entire left side of her face was pattered with scrawling Latin, and her left arm was covered with Latin. What they could see of her chest, which was exposed far more than any proper woman would care to, it was also covered with Latin. Her grin was downright predatory, and there was a glint in her eyes that made even the most brave men in the pub to do a double take.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou have a great deal of nerve to come in here...heretic!├óÔé¼┬Ø The man with the cigar puffed up his chest. His friends, a motley collection of scraggly men, some with turbans, the rest agreeing that wearing a turban and a spacesuit was just too much trouble.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou have a great deal of nerve...stealing from a church├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, throwing her head back and staring down at the man, her face making it quite obvious what she thought of him.
The man bristled, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe steal nothing...we liberate├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you even know what you stole?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, slowly crouching, readying herself.
├óÔé¼┼ôA holy relic of yours...but lets consider it pay back for New Jeru-├óÔé¼┬Ø The man started. Then Teresa flew forward, her right leg flying around to slam into his face. He was sent flying, crashing into the wall. Bottles collapsed, glass shattered.
├óÔé¼┼ôStop bringing up that DAMN battle!├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa snarled, ├óÔé¼┼ôIt was OUR city! OURS!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Two men rushed her, but Teresa jumped back, landing on a table. The people who had been using the table ran at her. Teresa kicked one, grinning as her foot broke their nose. The man tumbled backwards, smashing a chair.
A man picked up a chair and hurled it at Teresa. Her hand darted out and the chair flew past her, sliced clean in half. She tightened her fingers and the monofilament slid back into her little spool. The man who had thrown the chair gaped, then ran at her. Teresa abandoned the table, knowing it to be an untenable position. Then she ducked under the table.
The men surrounded the table, each of them pulling out a rather nasty assortment of knives.
Then smoke exploded from under the table, filling the air. The man who had held the cigar was sent into a horrible coughing fit, his face reddening. The smoke cleared and the woman was gone. The men looked around, whispering to each other, fear plain on some of their voices. The man who had held the cigar looked around, his face still red from the coughing.
├óÔé¼┼ôFor someone who smokes...you can't take it very well├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said.
The men turned, facing her. She was standing in the back, grinning, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut this wont do...five knives against little old me?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ômore then that├óÔé¼┬Ø The man who had held the cigar said, pulling a gun out. He was joined by two others, who also had guns.
Teresa swept her hand out. They heard a rustling sound. Then the man felt his gun jerk slightly, as if someone was grabbing onto it. Then the barrel fell off, the edge of the cut mirrored by the monofilament wire. The other guns fell apart, falling to pieces.
Teresa nodded, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd now to return the favor├óÔé¼┬Ø she said. The Vindicator leaped into her right hand. She fired two shots. A man who had held the gun fell, two dull impacts throwing him backwards. The men with knifes ran forward, shouting a death cry. Teresa kicked a knife out of one of their hands, then shot another in the face. He fell, hand flying to his head. He was still alive, to his shock.
Teresa swept the Vindicator around, bullets flying from its barrel, its distinctive bark filling the room, smoke pouring from the barrel. Men fell before her. But no blood sprayed. No screams rent the air. No bones shattered, flesh did not tear.
All that was left after a brief melee was the man who had held the cigar. He gaped at Teresa, who stepped over the moaning, groaning bodies that had been his gang. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa flipped a switch on her glove, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhere is the artifact?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI...I will never tell├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said, showing the normal pigheadedness attributed to males.
Teresa snapped her finger out and a thin black wire shot from the index finger of her glove. It settled around the man's neck. Teresa tightened.
The man felt a wire tighten around his neck, sure the monofilament would slice him as easily as it would with the guns. But rather he simply felt a noose constrict. He couldn't breath. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa walked to him as he sank to his knees, gasping for air, ├óÔé¼┼ôI can kill you very slowly and painfully...where is the artifact!├óÔé¼┬Ø
The man pointed behind the bar. Teresa tightened monetarily and the man blacked out. She stood above him, shaking her head. The others were starting to get up, but Teresa shot them a few more times with the Vindicator to keep them down. She walked around the back of the bar and looked around. She found a box that looked unusually well protected and stove it in with a kick. She reached in and took out the device, undamaged.
Teresa stood up, grinning. One of the men slipped a gun he had had on his person and had not taken out when the others had. He brought it up, aiming at Teresa. There were others in the way, but he thought he could-
The gun rattled, five bullets slamming out of the barrel, shell casings pattering on the floor. Teresa spun, hearing the noise. Two men had been hit and were lying, and bleedings. Teresa's face was a mask of rage and she swept her hand about. The man felt a tug on his wrist and his hand detached, blood fountaining. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou have stolen life├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, her teeth gritted, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat is the price for a thief├óÔé¼┬Ø
She walked out of the tavern, leaving the shouts and moans behind her. She staggered into an ally way, her right hand clutching her stomach. She pressed against the wall and brought her hand to her face, seeing the redness clinging to her fingertips. Teresa sank down the side of the wall.
Oh I have no doubt religion can be used for good and evil. Most religion IS used for good, just bad religion makes a much better story on the news. Which would sell better? Religious people blow shit up, or religious people help a bunch of random people? Both happen, but you only hear about the former. Im not going to go on a rant about how news corporations are corrupt, but that is happening. Corrupt or not, I dunno, but religion DOES do good stuff, a hell of a lot more good than bad.
My hands...they keep typing and typing and typing!
I can't...get...them...to...stop!
Farah thought it was going to be an interesting day when she walked into an ally way and found a woman bleeding to death. She had no idea exactly how anti-climactic it would be, in the end.
Teresa felt her left eye being pried open. ├óÔé¼┼ôHello?├óÔé¼┬Ø A faintly musical voice asked.
Teresa laughed wetly, ├óÔé¼┼ôIs...is this god?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked, trying to peer through the fog that was clouding her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I always thought you'd be Caucasian for some reason├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShhh├óÔé¼┬Ø Farah sighed, rolling her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm no God or Goddess...just someone who found you├óÔé¼┬Ø
She started to drag the Tattooed woman down the street, ignoring the jeers that one or two men threw her way. After a few minuets she got to the Church, but the woman in her arms was fading fast. It was a nasty stomach wound, one that killed slow rather then fast. Farah supposed that this woman should count herself lucky that she wasn't hit in a more deadly location.
├óÔé¼┼ôJulian!├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles jumped, hearing the voice. The woman he had rescued...he'd have to think up a name for her some time. He supposed he would just think of her as The Woman. The Woman had fallen asleep, unable to move. Julian was praying and reading his bible. So Miles had been left, reminiscing over his two century long carrier. The woman's voice had disturbed him.
Julian walked to the door, looking concerned. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is it Far...Miss. Aaqilah ?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, glancing at Miles as he changed the name.
Then he opened the door and gaped. A young Muslim woman with delicate eyes, dark skin and light brown hair stood out there, holding a very bloody and mostly dead looking Teresa. Even half dead, Teresa looked angry in some way or another. Miles stood as Julian took the comatose woman from Miss. Aaqilah, and ran to help him. They moved the gurney holding The Woman to the side and placed Teresa there. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe's lost a lot of blood├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, forcing the worry to the back of his mind, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe're going to need the synths up to full speed. Quick...go to my back rooms and pull out the backups├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles did so, running to grab the blood synthesizers. When he was back Julian was doing some bizarre medical mumbojumbo on Teresa. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs she going to be okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm more used to putting bullets into people than taking them out├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShe'll be fine├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, flashing him a smile. He turned back to Teresa, smile vanishing as he did so. It was a deadly wound. Farah leaned against the back wall, her face serene. She knew Julian would pull through. He had done it every single other time she had found an injured person and brought them here.
----------------------------------------
├óÔé¼┼ôHe did what!├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe said he wanted to go for a walk while the scans were going├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, running her hand through her hair, looking nervous, ├óÔé¼┼ôHe said...'I'll demote you if you don't let me stretch my god damned legs'
Lowman sighed, sitting down in a free chair, looking around the bridge. Weathers was still doing her scans, thought it required next to nothing then a few adjustments every once and a while. She had to be here for protocol reasons, mostly. Lowman had found her, looking for the general.
├óÔé¼┼ôDid he say where he was going to walk too├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôNo he did not├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, leaning back in her chair, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut he did take the shuttle down there. I tracked him up to the spaceport, where he checked in with the customs officer there...then he vanished├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General's cane clinked as he walked down the streets, hobbling from one foot to the other. His right leg seemed to be slower then his left, as if going to the beat of a different drummer. He looked around the rather squalid city, wrinkling his nose in distaste. ├óÔé¼┼ôJust like old times├óÔé¼┬Ø He murmured, his voice tired. He looked over his shoulder. He started, taking a half step backwards. A woman stood on the upper corner of the building behind him, looking down at him.
├óÔé¼┬ØSilly Primate├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General shook himself. The woman was no longer standing there. She had never been there. The General felt his heart thudding in his ribs, a faint fear rising in his chest. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're here├óÔé¼┬Ø He said softly, looking around the intersection he found himself in, ├óÔé¼┼ôI know you're here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSHOW YOUR SELF!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, his voice wheezing as he turned around and around. A hobo who had been sleeping was started out of a doze, staring at the General. Several people who were passing the area stared. The General tapped his cane on the wall. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're here├óÔé¼┬Ø He murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôRight here...on this planet.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He started to walk again. The people stared after him. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho the hell was that!├óÔé¼┬Ø The hobo slurred, his speech thickened by the drink. The others in the street pointedly ignored him and went back to their business, hoping the loud and annoying visitors would leave sooner rather than later.
Lowman slipped his Navy over coat on, strapping his holster on as he did so. He slipped his navy issue firearm on in the regulation place. Then he slipped two Navy issue firearm in two non-regulation places. He looked at himself in the mirror, making sure to project the air of dignity into the room. Then he stepped out of the bathroom, walked down the hall and into the bridge. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm taking the second shuttle down├óÔé¼┬Ø he said. The two other bridge officers who were on duty, Weathers and Grimm, looked at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôGrimm, you're in command till I get back...with the General├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGeneral D is not going to like that├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm pointed out, somewhat pointlessly.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd depending on how cranky his is, I suppose I will get posthumously demoted├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, keeping a straight face. He turned around and walked out. Weathers sighed. Then her console started to flash, blinking madly. She turned to it and smiled, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe've got a spike...of...Glories?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked, brow furrowing, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat...that means...├óÔé¼┬Ø
Grimm realized it at the same time he did. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh fuck├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm stood, looking around, ├óÔé¼┼ôCall Lowman back here right now! Break out the MNG's and put the ship on high alert├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, her face becoming a mask, nearly immobile. The only thing that gave her tension away was the tick that started to run in her forehead.
├óÔé¼┼ôBring us out from behind the moon├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm said, relishing his chance to take command. It was somewhat exiting. This is not a game, he reminded himself, this is very serious. He still smiled.
Lowman felt the ship lurch slightly, moving. He turned halfway around before the alarms started to run.
He burst into the bridge, looking around. The other bridge officers, Grimm and Weathers, were already running too and fro, trying to get everything working. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe full shift should be here soon├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut what the hell is going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Weathers handed him a print out she had gotten from the computers. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh hell├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman muttered, ├óÔé¼┼ôDid the General bring a comlink with him?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôEr...├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm looked up, thinking.
├óÔé¼┼ôI don't think so├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, frowning as she leaned over the right, back gunnery console. The bridge was arrayed in a circle, with the two command consoles in the middle of the chamber, four gunnery consoles on the edges and a chair where the Capitan usually sat. Lowman, being second, sat there as the combat officers walked onto the bridge.
Two women, Junior Lieutenants Kristian De-Vree and Julee Kalashnikov, and a man with the misfortune to be named John Smith ran onto the bridge. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhats the situation?├óÔé¼┬Ø Smith asked, looking Lowman. ├óÔé¼┼ôTake your post├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe'll keep you informed as soon as we know a bit more. All we know is that...we have a spike of Glories├óÔé¼┬Ø
The other officers quieted, staring at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôSanders├óÔé¼┬Ø De-Vree said softly. She sat down hurridly.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, Sanders├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, looking around, ├óÔé¼┼ôNow our Capitan is not here...but we can still survive this. Ms. Weathers, would you please spin up our Kliner engines if we need to escape in a hurry. Mr. Grimm, please warm up our left, right, back and forward gun batterys. Ms De-Vree, please prepare our Marine complements to repel borders. Everyone...get ready for combat├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa sat up, teeth gritted. The neural blocks made her feel no pain below the stomach, but the drugs in her bloodstream made her feel sluggish and slow. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat...Whats going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked, looking around. The night had fallen, all three suns dropping below the planet's surface, and only a faint moonlight diffusing from the planets too moons. It was a dirty moonlight, reddish and pale. The kind of moonlight that you needed someone to hold to get through, the moonlight that Teresa hated. It reminded her too much of her home.
She looked around. The Woman was asleep, still. Miles was laying on one of the pews, snoring softly. Julian was no where to be found and neither was the woman who had dragged her there. Teresa only vaguely remembered that woman, a half remembered shape and form. She heard sounds in the office, voices talking, other indistinct sounds. Teresa couldn't move, but she started to push the gurney along the wall, engaging its hovering device as she did so.
├óÔé¼┼ôHello!├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa knocked on the door to the office, sweat streaming down her face and arms. Julian opened the door. ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa├óÔé¼┬Ø He gasped, straightening his Bishop robes as he opened the door, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou...you idiot!├óÔé¼┬Ø he pushed her back down onto the gurney and pushing the gurney into the slot that was surrounded by the medical equipment. A woman leaned out of the office, smiling faintly. ├óÔé¼┼ôQuite a determined that one is├óÔé¼┬Ø Farah said.
├óÔé¼┼ôToo determined for her own damn good├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian muttered, slipping a needle into Teresa's neck. ├óÔé¼┼ôWait├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, already drifting off into sleep, ├óÔé¼┼ôI need...mission├óÔé¼┬Ø
She drifted into dreams, dislocated dreams of her childhood.
Children's voices, mocking.├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa! Teresa! Little sneaking stinker├óÔé¼┬Ø
A elderly man, kindness. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you hurt, my child? No harm can come to you...not in His house.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The same man, kindly still ├óÔé¼┼ôYour first tattoo, Teresa...you should be proud.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Two men, arguing where they thought she couldn't hear├óÔé¼┼ôAn aptitude would you say?├óÔé¼┬Ø ├óÔé¼┼ôAptitude! Its murder!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa's eyes opened. It was dawn, the dirty light of two suns shining right on her face. The last memories of her time in the Academy were fading. For some reason, in the top of her mind was her sister. She almost faded out, frowning. ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian leaned over her, ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood, you can answer questions├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian muttered, standing up straight, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou've been asleep all night, but the medchines have been working all night. You're wound is almost closed, but your mind is still recovering from the shock. Now...what is your name?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôName?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...Teresa Voorman...why?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôChecking your memory├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, ├óÔé¼┼ôBlood loss, oxygen loss, you know...├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWait...Voorman?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôYour last name is Voorman!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa colored, blushing, ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...yeah├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAre you and Janet Voorman related?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa thought about lying but she knew that lying was a sin. If you were going to sin, you might as well go for the really big one.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, sighing.
------------------------
President Janet Voorman slowly turned her chair around, looking through her office. The window showed a panoramic view of New Terra, sweeping, magnetic cities that stretched forth under the protection of the Shield. Now the Shields were unnecessary, and many people were thinking of tearing them down to free up the power drain. But the Shield on New Terra was not draining power, as it seemed to be set up to run on its own, no strings attached. When the question as too how the power source for the Shield around New Terra came up in the science department briefings, the science department usually thew their hands up and said ├óÔé¼┼ôWe don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø
So Janet had decided to just stop asking the question.
Janet sighed as her Secretary of State walked in. Carter was in a foul mood from the way he looked, but you could never tell with Carter. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is it?├óÔé¼┬Ø Janet asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôYour god damned sister├óÔé¼┬Ø Carter said.
Janet sighed. Her god damned sister. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat has she done now?├óÔé¼┬Ø Janet sighed, rubbing her temples. First Dobson had run off to some backwoods system for his god damned vendetta, now Teresa had stirred up some more trouble. Then her eyes found the paper she had been reading and the ugly fact she had been reading forced its way back into her mind. And god damn that stuck up communist prick, Jeremy Williams!
├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Carter said, tugging at his neck tie, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe shot off parts of a USS, the...the ship commanded by Dobson, I do believe├óÔé¼┬Ø
Janet's shoulders slumped, ├óÔé¼┼ôThats...thats an act of war last time I checked...when did it happen?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôA few hours ago├óÔé¼┬Ø Carter said.
---------------------------------
The Woman sat up, looking around. Miles walked to her. ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you understand me?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked.
The Woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is your name?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked.
The Woman was silent.
Miles sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you talk?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôThen...why don't you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Woman was silent.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you choose not to talk...or was it forced on you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman raised her hand, holding up one finger.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe first one?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Woman nodded, her face still impassive.
Miles sighed, closing his eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you want to stay here├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman shook her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you want to go home├óÔé¼┬Ø
She shook her head again.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere is home?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She pointed to her lips, frowning.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan you find it on a map?├óÔé¼┬Ø
A pause. She shrugged.
Miles sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you...type?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, reaching for other modes of communication than twenty questions.
The woman shook her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo its a vow of silence├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered, ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you want to...go to New Terra. They have better doctors there...they can help you├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman paused, thinking.
Then she shook her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you know where you want to go?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan you find it on a map?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you wish to see a map on my ship?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan you walk?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôFollow me├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman hopped off her gurney and followed Miles, far more steady than Miles had thought possible. Teresa was hobbling around, using crutches. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey can make you heal up fast, but you can't convince your muscles of that, can you├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered, hobbling around. She looked up at Julian, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd why is that...woman still here!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Farah looked at her, cocking an eyebrow, ├óÔé¼┼ôbecause Julian and I are friends. Can't a friend visit another friend├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou associate with Muslims?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, looking at Julian.
├óÔé¼┼ôIts their planet├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, ├óÔé¼┼ôIt would be hard to not associate with them├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles frowned, watching the two of them talk. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo...I'm going to leave now├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you for all the help├óÔé¼┬Ø he grabbed his wallet from his pocket, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd how much do I ow you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts a free clinic├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said.
Miles looked around, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut...this stuff is expensive. I have to ow you something├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts a free clinic├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian looked at him, ├óÔé¼┼ôPaid for by the Church of the Tattooed├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles blinked, ├óÔé¼┼ôOkay├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôwell...thanks├óÔé¼┬Ø
Julian nodded distractedly, turning back to Teresa, who was sitting down on the gurney.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood riddance├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa muttered, sweating as she sat on the gurney. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh come now├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, ├óÔé¼┼ôMiles was a kind enough fellow├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe was a heretic, he was a heathen and he was a murder├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe lost that war because of him, and I'm not going to forgive him for that, not for a long time. Now I've got a mission to accomplish├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRight├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian moved away from her and found the device she had rescued from the Gentleman's Haven. It was a largish box with a view screen one one sides, a prayer inscribed on the rim of the screen and two buttons. Julian turned it on and a blob of golden color appeared in the window.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow to hook it to the planetary radar grid├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian muttered.
The doors to the chapel opened and a man hobbled in. He held a cane, which he used to propelled himself down the hall. ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa Voorman, Bishop Julian Takashi, you are both here by conscripted into the USHS military. I need your scanner, and I need it now├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou can't just├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa stood, then felt a sharp pain in her stomach, the bullet wound still smarting.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou can't just order us around├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said. Farah watched with mild interest, leaning against the wall.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes I can├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said, pulling out a badge.
├óÔé¼┼ôGeneral...Dobson?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian looked at him.
Teresa panted, sitting down on her gurney. She gasped, ├óÔé¼┼ôI thought you were dead├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNot quite├óÔé¼┬Ø The General snatched the scanner out of Julian's hands and looked it over. ├óÔé¼┼ôHmm├óÔé¼┬Ø he murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôThe thing is off the planet already. Thanks├óÔé¼┬Ø he handed it back to Julian. There was something very nasty in his eyes. He grinned. It did not look kindly. ├óÔé¼┼ôHave a nice day├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, then walked out of the church.
Teresa snarled at him.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is his problem?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian murmured. Then he looked down at the screen, the device having finally patched into the radar net of the planet. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not going to be happy' Julian said.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked.
Julian told her. Teresa was not happy.
Miles sat down, glad to be back on the Kitty Hawk. ├óÔé¼┼ôComputer├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôPlot a course and...bring up a name dictionary├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôName searching?├óÔé¼┬Ø The computer said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI can only guess...our new friend needs a name├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman walked through Miles ships, looking around. She slid her hand along the wall, feeling it. Then she got to the bookshelf and smiled. She knelt, looking over the bookshelf. She found the chessboard that Miles was using for a book stop and slipped it into her hands. She sat down, resting her back against the wall.
Miles turned around, ├óÔé¼┼ôSo do you want to choose a nam-├óÔé¼┬Ø he trailed off.
The woman was busy playing a game of chess against the computer. In a few seconds she had won, checkmate. She restarted the game.
Miles walked to her and knelt by her. ├óÔé¼┼ôWant...want a human to play against?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. The woman looked at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou'll find that I can preform much better than a computer├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles stared at the chess board. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow...how did you do that?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked.
The woman grinned, looking up from his defeated pieces. ├óÔé¼┼ôRematch?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked.
Ten minuets later. ├óÔé¼┼ôBeginners luck├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered, looking at the board. The woman was still smiling. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou know├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles leaned back in his chair, ├óÔé¼┼ôI've fought entire battle fleets and won. I refuse to believe that I can be beaten by...a...├óÔé¼┬Ø he stopped.
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm going to call you Chess, from now on├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôIs that okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess, for that was her name from this point onwards, nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôNow lets plot a Klin-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe're being fired on!├óÔé¼┬Ø The computer said suddenly.
├óÔé¼┼ôStrap in├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said to the woman, running to a chair that Miles had set aside for the occasional hitchhiker. She strapped in as Miles did so, getting ready to fight.
The Michaelangelo shot over the bow of the Kitty Hawk, narrowly avoiding the nacelles. Teresa grimaced, her battered body complaining raggedly as G forces tore at her. She flipped the nimble ship over and fired off another pattern of shots behind the Kitty Hawk. ├óÔé¼┼ôCome on! MOVE!├óÔé¼┬Ø She grunted. Her com-relay just had to burn out now, God damn it.
The Kitty Hawk leaped forward, engines firing up. Teresa allowed herself almost pass out with fatigue. Then she shook herself and flipped the ship over and fired the engines, following the Kitty Hawk.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôIt could have blown us our of the water five times now├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman, being a voluntary mute, said nothing. Miles kept accelerating, trying to not get shot. But the bullets she was firing were all going down his back. Down his back...she wanted him to move, obviously. What for. ├óÔé¼┼ôComputer...scan area. Any other ships here?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes...they just fired!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman chewed his lip. The General had come on board with his normal dogged persistence, not caring what the others had to say. He sat down in the chair previously occupied by Lowman, and barked the order, ├óÔé¼┼ôBlow that ship our of the sky├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe ship...this one?├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers asked, pointing at the ship as displayed on the main screen.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes that ship god damn it!├óÔé¼┬Ø The General shouted, eyes bulging.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir that ship is being fired on...the aggressor ship designated the Michaelangelo...Teresa's Ship├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm cut in, frowning.
├óÔé¼┼ôGive priority to the Kitty Hawk├óÔé¼┬Ø The General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to destroy it before it can make to warp├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Michaelangelo...its coming about to engage!├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers cut in, reading the motion change through her scanner scope.
The USS Darkstar, the frigate that the General had commandeered, was huge. Really huge, to the Michaelangelo's small stature. Three weapons pods stuck out of the main 'spar' of the ship, with the bridge in the center. Engines sprouted from each four sides, and four military Kliner Engines. The weapons were trained on the Kitty Hawk, but the maneuvers that Teresa had forced them into had given them time. Now she had to buy them a little more.
Teresa put the pedal to the medal and her ship slammed forward. She put a spin on the ship, narrowly avoiding the laser that almost ended her. She squeezed the triggers down on both the cannons and bullets spat, scouring the heavy armor on the edges of the weapon pods.
├óÔé¼┼ôShe's coming right down our throats!├óÔé¼┬Ø De-Vree spoke up, fingers flying over her console as she tried to keep the lock on.
Teresa muttered a prayer under her breath, hoping this works. She could see the laser cannon warming up slightly, the energy levels rising in her HUD. She waited until God told her when to move. Her body screamed at her. She tapped the spin mortars and laid back on the acceleration. The ship darted forward and then around the laser cannon, over the weapon pod and over the bridge. Teresa flipped the ship over and aimed. ├óÔé¼┼ôHallowed be thy name├óÔé¼┬Ø she murmured and fired her main laser.
The laser stabbed out and cut at the weapon pod that was firing at her. She cut through the support spar after two quick pulses, melting through. By then the other two weapon pods were trained on her, anti-fighter armerments cycling to the top to more easily destroy her.
Teresa licked her lips as the anti-fighter missiles locked on. Then she triggered her Kliner Engines and the ship folded out of existence, leaving a faint distortion in the air.
I can't...get...them...to...stop!
Farah thought it was going to be an interesting day when she walked into an ally way and found a woman bleeding to death. She had no idea exactly how anti-climactic it would be, in the end.
Teresa felt her left eye being pried open. ├óÔé¼┼ôHello?├óÔé¼┬Ø A faintly musical voice asked.
Teresa laughed wetly, ├óÔé¼┼ôIs...is this god?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked, trying to peer through the fog that was clouding her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I always thought you'd be Caucasian for some reason├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShhh├óÔé¼┬Ø Farah sighed, rolling her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm no God or Goddess...just someone who found you├óÔé¼┬Ø
She started to drag the Tattooed woman down the street, ignoring the jeers that one or two men threw her way. After a few minuets she got to the Church, but the woman in her arms was fading fast. It was a nasty stomach wound, one that killed slow rather then fast. Farah supposed that this woman should count herself lucky that she wasn't hit in a more deadly location.
├óÔé¼┼ôJulian!├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles jumped, hearing the voice. The woman he had rescued...he'd have to think up a name for her some time. He supposed he would just think of her as The Woman. The Woman had fallen asleep, unable to move. Julian was praying and reading his bible. So Miles had been left, reminiscing over his two century long carrier. The woman's voice had disturbed him.
Julian walked to the door, looking concerned. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is it Far...Miss. Aaqilah ?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, glancing at Miles as he changed the name.
Then he opened the door and gaped. A young Muslim woman with delicate eyes, dark skin and light brown hair stood out there, holding a very bloody and mostly dead looking Teresa. Even half dead, Teresa looked angry in some way or another. Miles stood as Julian took the comatose woman from Miss. Aaqilah, and ran to help him. They moved the gurney holding The Woman to the side and placed Teresa there. ├óÔé¼┼ôShe's lost a lot of blood├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, forcing the worry to the back of his mind, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe're going to need the synths up to full speed. Quick...go to my back rooms and pull out the backups├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles did so, running to grab the blood synthesizers. When he was back Julian was doing some bizarre medical mumbojumbo on Teresa. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs she going to be okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm more used to putting bullets into people than taking them out├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShe'll be fine├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, flashing him a smile. He turned back to Teresa, smile vanishing as he did so. It was a deadly wound. Farah leaned against the back wall, her face serene. She knew Julian would pull through. He had done it every single other time she had found an injured person and brought them here.
----------------------------------------
├óÔé¼┼ôHe did what!├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôHe said he wanted to go for a walk while the scans were going├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, running her hand through her hair, looking nervous, ├óÔé¼┼ôHe said...'I'll demote you if you don't let me stretch my god damned legs'
Lowman sighed, sitting down in a free chair, looking around the bridge. Weathers was still doing her scans, thought it required next to nothing then a few adjustments every once and a while. She had to be here for protocol reasons, mostly. Lowman had found her, looking for the general.
├óÔé¼┼ôDid he say where he was going to walk too├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôNo he did not├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, leaning back in her chair, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut he did take the shuttle down there. I tracked him up to the spaceport, where he checked in with the customs officer there...then he vanished├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General's cane clinked as he walked down the streets, hobbling from one foot to the other. His right leg seemed to be slower then his left, as if going to the beat of a different drummer. He looked around the rather squalid city, wrinkling his nose in distaste. ├óÔé¼┼ôJust like old times├óÔé¼┬Ø He murmured, his voice tired. He looked over his shoulder. He started, taking a half step backwards. A woman stood on the upper corner of the building behind him, looking down at him.
├óÔé¼┬ØSilly Primate├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General shook himself. The woman was no longer standing there. She had never been there. The General felt his heart thudding in his ribs, a faint fear rising in his chest. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're here├óÔé¼┬Ø He said softly, looking around the intersection he found himself in, ├óÔé¼┼ôI know you're here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSHOW YOUR SELF!├óÔé¼┬Ø He shouted, his voice wheezing as he turned around and around. A hobo who had been sleeping was started out of a doze, staring at the General. Several people who were passing the area stared. The General tapped his cane on the wall. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're here├óÔé¼┬Ø He murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôRight here...on this planet.├óÔé¼┬Ø
He started to walk again. The people stared after him. ├óÔé¼┼ôWho the hell was that!├óÔé¼┬Ø The hobo slurred, his speech thickened by the drink. The others in the street pointedly ignored him and went back to their business, hoping the loud and annoying visitors would leave sooner rather than later.
Lowman slipped his Navy over coat on, strapping his holster on as he did so. He slipped his navy issue firearm on in the regulation place. Then he slipped two Navy issue firearm in two non-regulation places. He looked at himself in the mirror, making sure to project the air of dignity into the room. Then he stepped out of the bathroom, walked down the hall and into the bridge. ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm taking the second shuttle down├óÔé¼┬Ø he said. The two other bridge officers who were on duty, Weathers and Grimm, looked at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôGrimm, you're in command till I get back...with the General├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGeneral D is not going to like that├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm pointed out, somewhat pointlessly.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd depending on how cranky his is, I suppose I will get posthumously demoted├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, keeping a straight face. He turned around and walked out. Weathers sighed. Then her console started to flash, blinking madly. She turned to it and smiled, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe've got a spike...of...Glories?├óÔé¼┬Ø she asked, brow furrowing, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat...that means...├óÔé¼┬Ø
Grimm realized it at the same time he did. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh fuck├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm stood, looking around, ├óÔé¼┼ôCall Lowman back here right now! Break out the MNG's and put the ship on high alert├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes sir├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, her face becoming a mask, nearly immobile. The only thing that gave her tension away was the tick that started to run in her forehead.
├óÔé¼┼ôBring us out from behind the moon├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm said, relishing his chance to take command. It was somewhat exiting. This is not a game, he reminded himself, this is very serious. He still smiled.
Lowman felt the ship lurch slightly, moving. He turned halfway around before the alarms started to run.
He burst into the bridge, looking around. The other bridge officers, Grimm and Weathers, were already running too and fro, trying to get everything working. ├óÔé¼┼ôThe full shift should be here soon├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut what the hell is going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Weathers handed him a print out she had gotten from the computers. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh hell├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman muttered, ├óÔé¼┼ôDid the General bring a comlink with him?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôEr...├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm looked up, thinking.
├óÔé¼┼ôI don't think so├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, frowning as she leaned over the right, back gunnery console. The bridge was arrayed in a circle, with the two command consoles in the middle of the chamber, four gunnery consoles on the edges and a chair where the Capitan usually sat. Lowman, being second, sat there as the combat officers walked onto the bridge.
Two women, Junior Lieutenants Kristian De-Vree and Julee Kalashnikov, and a man with the misfortune to be named John Smith ran onto the bridge. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhats the situation?├óÔé¼┬Ø Smith asked, looking Lowman. ├óÔé¼┼ôTake your post├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe'll keep you informed as soon as we know a bit more. All we know is that...we have a spike of Glories├óÔé¼┬Ø
The other officers quieted, staring at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôSanders├óÔé¼┬Ø De-Vree said softly. She sat down hurridly.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes, Sanders├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, looking around, ├óÔé¼┼ôNow our Capitan is not here...but we can still survive this. Ms. Weathers, would you please spin up our Kliner engines if we need to escape in a hurry. Mr. Grimm, please warm up our left, right, back and forward gun batterys. Ms De-Vree, please prepare our Marine complements to repel borders. Everyone...get ready for combat├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa sat up, teeth gritted. The neural blocks made her feel no pain below the stomach, but the drugs in her bloodstream made her feel sluggish and slow. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat...Whats going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked, looking around. The night had fallen, all three suns dropping below the planet's surface, and only a faint moonlight diffusing from the planets too moons. It was a dirty moonlight, reddish and pale. The kind of moonlight that you needed someone to hold to get through, the moonlight that Teresa hated. It reminded her too much of her home.
She looked around. The Woman was asleep, still. Miles was laying on one of the pews, snoring softly. Julian was no where to be found and neither was the woman who had dragged her there. Teresa only vaguely remembered that woman, a half remembered shape and form. She heard sounds in the office, voices talking, other indistinct sounds. Teresa couldn't move, but she started to push the gurney along the wall, engaging its hovering device as she did so.
├óÔé¼┼ôHello!├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa knocked on the door to the office, sweat streaming down her face and arms. Julian opened the door. ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa├óÔé¼┬Ø He gasped, straightening his Bishop robes as he opened the door, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou...you idiot!├óÔé¼┬Ø he pushed her back down onto the gurney and pushing the gurney into the slot that was surrounded by the medical equipment. A woman leaned out of the office, smiling faintly. ├óÔé¼┼ôQuite a determined that one is├óÔé¼┬Ø Farah said.
├óÔé¼┼ôToo determined for her own damn good├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian muttered, slipping a needle into Teresa's neck. ├óÔé¼┼ôWait├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, already drifting off into sleep, ├óÔé¼┼ôI need...mission├óÔé¼┬Ø
She drifted into dreams, dislocated dreams of her childhood.
Children's voices, mocking.├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa! Teresa! Little sneaking stinker├óÔé¼┬Ø
A elderly man, kindness. ├óÔé¼┼ôAre you hurt, my child? No harm can come to you...not in His house.├óÔé¼┬Ø
The same man, kindly still ├óÔé¼┼ôYour first tattoo, Teresa...you should be proud.├óÔé¼┬Ø
Two men, arguing where they thought she couldn't hear├óÔé¼┼ôAn aptitude would you say?├óÔé¼┬Ø ├óÔé¼┼ôAptitude! Its murder!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa's eyes opened. It was dawn, the dirty light of two suns shining right on her face. The last memories of her time in the Academy were fading. For some reason, in the top of her mind was her sister. She almost faded out, frowning. ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian leaned over her, ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood, you can answer questions├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian muttered, standing up straight, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou've been asleep all night, but the medchines have been working all night. You're wound is almost closed, but your mind is still recovering from the shock. Now...what is your name?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôName?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...Teresa Voorman...why?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôChecking your memory├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, ├óÔé¼┼ôBlood loss, oxygen loss, you know...├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWait...Voorman?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôYour last name is Voorman!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa colored, blushing, ├óÔé¼┼ôUh...yeah├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAre you and Janet Voorman related?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa thought about lying but she knew that lying was a sin. If you were going to sin, you might as well go for the really big one.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, sighing.
------------------------
President Janet Voorman slowly turned her chair around, looking through her office. The window showed a panoramic view of New Terra, sweeping, magnetic cities that stretched forth under the protection of the Shield. Now the Shields were unnecessary, and many people were thinking of tearing them down to free up the power drain. But the Shield on New Terra was not draining power, as it seemed to be set up to run on its own, no strings attached. When the question as too how the power source for the Shield around New Terra came up in the science department briefings, the science department usually thew their hands up and said ├óÔé¼┼ôWe don't know├óÔé¼┬Ø
So Janet had decided to just stop asking the question.
Janet sighed as her Secretary of State walked in. Carter was in a foul mood from the way he looked, but you could never tell with Carter. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is it?├óÔé¼┬Ø Janet asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôYour god damned sister├óÔé¼┬Ø Carter said.
Janet sighed. Her god damned sister. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat has she done now?├óÔé¼┬Ø Janet sighed, rubbing her temples. First Dobson had run off to some backwoods system for his god damned vendetta, now Teresa had stirred up some more trouble. Then her eyes found the paper she had been reading and the ugly fact she had been reading forced its way back into her mind. And god damn that stuck up communist prick, Jeremy Williams!
├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Carter said, tugging at his neck tie, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe shot off parts of a USS, the...the ship commanded by Dobson, I do believe├óÔé¼┬Ø
Janet's shoulders slumped, ├óÔé¼┼ôThats...thats an act of war last time I checked...when did it happen?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôA few hours ago├óÔé¼┬Ø Carter said.
---------------------------------
The Woman sat up, looking around. Miles walked to her. ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you understand me?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked.
The Woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is your name?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked.
The Woman was silent.
Miles sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you talk?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôThen...why don't you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Woman was silent.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you choose not to talk...or was it forced on you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman raised her hand, holding up one finger.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe first one?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Woman nodded, her face still impassive.
Miles sighed, closing his eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you want to stay here├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman shook her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you want to go home├óÔé¼┬Ø
She shook her head again.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere is home?├óÔé¼┬Ø
She pointed to her lips, frowning.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan you find it on a map?├óÔé¼┬Ø
A pause. She shrugged.
Miles sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôCan you...type?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, reaching for other modes of communication than twenty questions.
The woman shook her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo its a vow of silence├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered, ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you want to...go to New Terra. They have better doctors there...they can help you├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman paused, thinking.
Then she shook her head.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you know where you want to go?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan you find it on a map?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo you wish to see a map on my ship?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôCan you walk?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôFollow me├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman hopped off her gurney and followed Miles, far more steady than Miles had thought possible. Teresa was hobbling around, using crutches. ├óÔé¼┼ôThey can make you heal up fast, but you can't convince your muscles of that, can you├óÔé¼┬Ø she muttered, hobbling around. She looked up at Julian, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd why is that...woman still here!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Farah looked at her, cocking an eyebrow, ├óÔé¼┼ôbecause Julian and I are friends. Can't a friend visit another friend├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou associate with Muslims?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, looking at Julian.
├óÔé¼┼ôIts their planet├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, ├óÔé¼┼ôIt would be hard to not associate with them├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles frowned, watching the two of them talk. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo...I'm going to leave now├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThank you for all the help├óÔé¼┬Ø he grabbed his wallet from his pocket, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd how much do I ow you?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts a free clinic├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said.
Miles looked around, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut...this stuff is expensive. I have to ow you something├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts a free clinic├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian looked at him, ├óÔé¼┼ôPaid for by the Church of the Tattooed├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles blinked, ├óÔé¼┼ôOkay├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôwell...thanks├óÔé¼┬Ø
Julian nodded distractedly, turning back to Teresa, who was sitting down on the gurney.
├óÔé¼┼ôGood riddance├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa muttered, sweating as she sat on the gurney. ├óÔé¼┼ôOh come now├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said, ├óÔé¼┼ôMiles was a kind enough fellow├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôHe was a heretic, he was a heathen and he was a murder├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe lost that war because of him, and I'm not going to forgive him for that, not for a long time. Now I've got a mission to accomplish├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôRight├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian moved away from her and found the device she had rescued from the Gentleman's Haven. It was a largish box with a view screen one one sides, a prayer inscribed on the rim of the screen and two buttons. Julian turned it on and a blob of golden color appeared in the window.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow to hook it to the planetary radar grid├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian muttered.
The doors to the chapel opened and a man hobbled in. He held a cane, which he used to propelled himself down the hall. ├óÔé¼┼ôTeresa Voorman, Bishop Julian Takashi, you are both here by conscripted into the USHS military. I need your scanner, and I need it now├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou can't just├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa stood, then felt a sharp pain in her stomach, the bullet wound still smarting.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou can't just order us around├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian said. Farah watched with mild interest, leaning against the wall.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes I can├óÔé¼┬Ø The man said, pulling out a badge.
├óÔé¼┼ôGeneral...Dobson?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian looked at him.
Teresa panted, sitting down on her gurney. She gasped, ├óÔé¼┼ôI thought you were dead├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNot quite├óÔé¼┬Ø The General snatched the scanner out of Julian's hands and looked it over. ├óÔé¼┼ôHmm├óÔé¼┬Ø he murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôThe thing is off the planet already. Thanks├óÔé¼┬Ø he handed it back to Julian. There was something very nasty in his eyes. He grinned. It did not look kindly. ├óÔé¼┼ôHave a nice day├óÔé¼┬Ø He said, then walked out of the church.
Teresa snarled at him.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is his problem?├óÔé¼┬Ø Julian murmured. Then he looked down at the screen, the device having finally patched into the radar net of the planet. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou're not going to be happy' Julian said.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked.
Julian told her. Teresa was not happy.
Miles sat down, glad to be back on the Kitty Hawk. ├óÔé¼┼ôComputer├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôPlot a course and...bring up a name dictionary├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôName searching?├óÔé¼┬Ø The computer said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI can only guess...our new friend needs a name├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman walked through Miles ships, looking around. She slid her hand along the wall, feeling it. Then she got to the bookshelf and smiled. She knelt, looking over the bookshelf. She found the chessboard that Miles was using for a book stop and slipped it into her hands. She sat down, resting her back against the wall.
Miles turned around, ├óÔé¼┼ôSo do you want to choose a nam-├óÔé¼┬Ø he trailed off.
The woman was busy playing a game of chess against the computer. In a few seconds she had won, checkmate. She restarted the game.
Miles walked to her and knelt by her. ├óÔé¼┼ôWant...want a human to play against?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked. The woman looked at him. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou'll find that I can preform much better than a computer├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles stared at the chess board. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow...how did you do that?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked.
The woman grinned, looking up from his defeated pieces. ├óÔé¼┼ôRematch?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked.
Ten minuets later. ├óÔé¼┼ôBeginners luck├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered, looking at the board. The woman was still smiling. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou know├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles leaned back in his chair, ├óÔé¼┼ôI've fought entire battle fleets and won. I refuse to believe that I can be beaten by...a...├óÔé¼┬Ø he stopped.
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm going to call you Chess, from now on├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôIs that okay?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess, for that was her name from this point onwards, nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôNow lets plot a Klin-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe're being fired on!├óÔé¼┬Ø The computer said suddenly.
├óÔé¼┼ôStrap in├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said to the woman, running to a chair that Miles had set aside for the occasional hitchhiker. She strapped in as Miles did so, getting ready to fight.
The Michaelangelo shot over the bow of the Kitty Hawk, narrowly avoiding the nacelles. Teresa grimaced, her battered body complaining raggedly as G forces tore at her. She flipped the nimble ship over and fired off another pattern of shots behind the Kitty Hawk. ├óÔé¼┼ôCome on! MOVE!├óÔé¼┬Ø She grunted. Her com-relay just had to burn out now, God damn it.
The Kitty Hawk leaped forward, engines firing up. Teresa allowed herself almost pass out with fatigue. Then she shook herself and flipped the ship over and fired the engines, following the Kitty Hawk.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat is going on?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôIt could have blown us our of the water five times now├óÔé¼┬Ø
The woman, being a voluntary mute, said nothing. Miles kept accelerating, trying to not get shot. But the bullets she was firing were all going down his back. Down his back...she wanted him to move, obviously. What for. ├óÔé¼┼ôComputer...scan area. Any other ships here?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes...they just fired!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman chewed his lip. The General had come on board with his normal dogged persistence, not caring what the others had to say. He sat down in the chair previously occupied by Lowman, and barked the order, ├óÔé¼┼ôBlow that ship our of the sky├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe ship...this one?├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers asked, pointing at the ship as displayed on the main screen.
├óÔé¼┼ôYes that ship god damn it!├óÔé¼┬Ø The General shouted, eyes bulging.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir that ship is being fired on...the aggressor ship designated the Michaelangelo...Teresa's Ship├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm cut in, frowning.
├óÔé¼┼ôGive priority to the Kitty Hawk├óÔé¼┬Ø The General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to destroy it before it can make to warp├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Michaelangelo...its coming about to engage!├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers cut in, reading the motion change through her scanner scope.
The USS Darkstar, the frigate that the General had commandeered, was huge. Really huge, to the Michaelangelo's small stature. Three weapons pods stuck out of the main 'spar' of the ship, with the bridge in the center. Engines sprouted from each four sides, and four military Kliner Engines. The weapons were trained on the Kitty Hawk, but the maneuvers that Teresa had forced them into had given them time. Now she had to buy them a little more.
Teresa put the pedal to the medal and her ship slammed forward. She put a spin on the ship, narrowly avoiding the laser that almost ended her. She squeezed the triggers down on both the cannons and bullets spat, scouring the heavy armor on the edges of the weapon pods.
├óÔé¼┼ôShe's coming right down our throats!├óÔé¼┬Ø De-Vree spoke up, fingers flying over her console as she tried to keep the lock on.
Teresa muttered a prayer under her breath, hoping this works. She could see the laser cannon warming up slightly, the energy levels rising in her HUD. She waited until God told her when to move. Her body screamed at her. She tapped the spin mortars and laid back on the acceleration. The ship darted forward and then around the laser cannon, over the weapon pod and over the bridge. Teresa flipped the ship over and aimed. ├óÔé¼┼ôHallowed be thy name├óÔé¼┬Ø she murmured and fired her main laser.
The laser stabbed out and cut at the weapon pod that was firing at her. She cut through the support spar after two quick pulses, melting through. By then the other two weapon pods were trained on her, anti-fighter armerments cycling to the top to more easily destroy her.
Teresa licked her lips as the anti-fighter missiles locked on. Then she triggered her Kliner Engines and the ship folded out of existence, leaving a faint distortion in the air.
There is only one way to stop my hands...
CUT THEM OFF!
Teresa floated. The stars outside her window were strange, unfamiliar. Thats what an unplanned, unmapped Kliner jump would do to you.
She felt like a balloon, with a pin pushed into it, letting all the air out. Teresa felt her stomach, quite calmly. It was wet. She brought her finger tips right to her eyes, barely able to see them in the very dim lighting of the Michaelangelo. They were tinged with red...or was that the lighting from the consoles? Could be sweat. The small, one man ship was incredibly hot, the air muggy and thick. A red light started to flash on the air recycling boards.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh well├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôI bought them time├óÔé¼┬Ø
-----------------------------------
Jeremy looked at his new 'friend'. The Cardinal of Golgotha was a pencil thin man, anorexic, his face stretched tight around his skull, pale white skin shining under the lights of Jeremy's ship. It was a small ship, the October, but it got Jeremy from where he needed to be to where he needed to go. The Cardinal was sipping a bit of tea that Jeremy had arranged for him.
├óÔé¼┼ôI have one question├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said.
├óÔé¼┼ôHmm?├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal put down his tea cup.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôSimple, really. The Tattooed are...inefficient for acquiring I want. Power, quite simply, is the only currency that means a damn anymore. And the Tattooed, no matter how much they like to think otherwise, are still a fringe group. There are only...six, five million out of...how many billions of people in the USHS?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTwenty five billion├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, after thinking a few moments.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd because your a very good speaker├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal said. Jeremy gulped, not sure if he believed him, ├óÔé¼┼ôI thought that your movement could use some more official backing...unofficially├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUnofficial official backing would come in handy├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI need money, script writers, propaganda specialists├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe're a intergalactic church. We have all of the above in abundance├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jeremy grinned, the nervousness falling back. He had help now, not just polite interest from a smattering of intellectuals. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow we can start reaching to the proletariat and the slave population├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal nodded, letting Jeremy start his plans. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to start circulating pamphlets in the slaves of the Galactic North...and start some more speeches in the inner planets. You have good orators, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal tilted his head in a very slight nod.
Jeremy stood, striding to his automatic -------. He ordered up an Earl Grey Tea, hot, and waited patiently for the machine to bring out at least a semi-drinkable version. He would rather have had to boil the water himself, but he didn't have the time. The cup slipped into his hands and he turned to the Cardinal, ├óÔé¼┼ôShould I keep speaking?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôIf we have all these new resources...then I might be needed here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal said, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou can still go to the boarder planets and drum up support. I can organize this movement from here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThank you├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I have no want to lead the Revolution. I just want to see it in power again├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt shall be├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal had a rather evil grin on his skeletal face.
-----------------------------
├óÔé¼┼ôFollow them! FOLLOW THEM!├óÔé¼┬Ø The General shouted, slamming his fist down on the armrest of his chair.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir├óÔé¼┬Ø weathers said, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou know that we can't├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General stood, fuming, ├óÔé¼┼ôRecalibrate the Kliner field for the ship's new silhouette├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSir├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers rolled her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôThats going to take a week, tops. It will only take two days to reattach the gunnery pod├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General turned around, closing his eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôTrack where both ships went├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôbefore their warp coordinates dissipate too much├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlready got it...├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, turning to her console. Lowman watched, chewing his lower lip. The General, with each move he had, seemed more...disturbed.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Michaelangelo made a random jump├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, eyes widening, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe must not have had a path plotted. Followed the gravitational incline of the solar system...she'd have to be way way out of the USHS by now├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General grinned, wolfishly, ├óÔé¼┼ôWill she be able to jump back?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôMost likely...no├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe'd have to plot a course with unfamiliar constipations├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did the Kitty Hawk go?├óÔé¼┬Ø The General asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôIf the Kitty Hawk has something dangerous on it...shouldn't you tell your crew?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø The General looked at Lowman.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou ordered us to open fire on a civilian ship├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, walking around a chair to get close to the General, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I would like to know why├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts carrying a DAE, isn't that enough?├óÔé¼┬Ø The General asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôI need proof, first├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd...your actions, ever sense you've come onboard have been...erratic at best├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General snapped a glance at Weathers, saying ├óÔé¼┼ôFind that course...Lowman, follow me├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman followed the General down the hall, hoping that the General would tell him the method to his madness. If there was a method. That was what worried Lowman the most. He knew that he, as an officer, could probably wrangle support for the arrest and confinement of a superior officer if he had enough reason. He arrived at the office and the General opened the door, gesturing for him to come in.
Lowman stepped into the office, looking around. There was a picture of a fetching young woman on the desk, with the name ├óÔé¼┼ôMy Beloved Roxane├óÔé¼┬Ø on the bottom of the frame. The General walked behind his desk, reached into a drawer. Then Lowman was staring down the barrel of a gun.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow listen to me, Lowman├óÔé¼┬Ø the General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThis office has no security cames. I can shoot you and be easily able to dismiss it as an accident. I was just cleaning my gun, see├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman felt fear constrict his lungs. He still had his pistol strapped to his chest, but he could never reach it before the General fired. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø The General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI want you to understand this...if anyone gets between me and a Tattooed...I will kill them├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd my reasons are immensely personal. As is this entire mission├óÔé¼┬Ø The General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôSo consider yourself a agent of...righteous wrath. We are going to make them pay for everything they have done├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're a good officer...but If you try to get in my way again, I will end you├óÔé¼┬Ø The General lowered his gun and hobbled past Lowman, his cane clicking as he did so. Lowman stood there for a few more seconds. Then he sighed, almost sagging. ├óÔé¼┼ôI think we might have more of a problem then I thought├óÔé¼┬Ø he murmured, running his hand through his hair.
------------------
├óÔé¼┼ôShe's such an...angry child├óÔé¼┬Ø
She was definitely out of known space, that much was sure. The Michaelangelo had rotated completely and she saw that off to the side there was a massive nebula, stretching upwards and to the left, a dizzying array of colors. There was no nebula that humanity had gotten close to. Too dangerous.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnother fight? How many were involved this time...seven?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa was fading, slowly. The Michaelangelo had turned away from the nebula, away from the massive, multicolored spectacle. Then a light shone through the cockpit, incredibly bright. Teresa was blinded, her eyes jammed shut. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs...is this god?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked. But then she realized it. A ship was parked outside. Maybe aliens or something had found her.
Then the ship's search light moved off the cockpit and she could see its out line and the words emblazoned on the side. The Kitty Hawk. ├óÔé¼┼ôMaybe it is├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôMaybe it is...├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles scooped the Michaelangelo into his cargo hold. He looked at Chess, who was playing another game, the computer at the highest difficulty setting. He supposed that she was set and ran down the short halls of the ship. He got to the cargo bay and ran to the side of the Michaelangelo. The ship was long, slender and even nicer when he got close. Latin was scrawled over the entire thing, for what purpose he had no idea, and the door on the side was already opening.
Teresa slid out, thudding back first into the cargo bay floor. She was bleeding. ├óÔé¼┼ôShit├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôCHESS GET THE GURNEY!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess looked up, hearing the shout echo down the halls. She stood and ran to the hover gurney. She activated it, using the same command key she had seen Miles use. She pushed the gurney down the hall, running along the wall, slightly unsteady on her feet.
Miles hauled Teresa to the gurney, grunting with the effort. The wound had reopened in the high Gee performance she had put herself through. He pushed the gurney down the hall, Chess following him. ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you know anything about medication?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked, looking at Chess. She nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow much...a lot?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Another nod. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôPrep the medical bits and jumbles down in the room and such. I...I'm not a doctor├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess nodded, then ran faster then Miles could push the Gurney. He got to the main chamber of the Kitty Hawk, and Chess was ready with a packet of blood, a sealant and some medicheins. Miles stepped back as Chess stated to administer to Teresa, slapping the sealant on, setting up the blood intake and injecting the medicheins. Then she paused, chewing her lower lip and looking confused for the first time Miles had seen her awake.
Then she ran her hand over the wound, not quite touching the actual flesh. Then she stepped back and held up three fingers.
├óÔé¼┼ôThree days?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked. She shook her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôHours?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked. Chess nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo she'll live?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess nodded, walking back to her chess game. Miles sighed, looking at Teresa. She had forced them to accelerate and dodge...which had saved their lives when the USHS ship had opened fire. She had then shot up a frigate with a single man fighter and made an unplanned Kliner jump. Miles had no way to plot his own jump, not in time...so he had followed the jump that Teresa used. Now he had no idea where they were...
Teresa sat up three hours later, looking around. She felt...good. Far better than she should have had under similar circumstances. She saw The Woman, fully dressed, sitting over a table. A chessboard was on the table, projecting holographic chess pieces that she moved quickly. Miles walked to Teresa's side.
The first thing that popped from his mouth was, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat was the stupidest, most brave, foolhardy thing I have seen in all my days in flying├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa opened her mouth, but Miles hugged her around the shoulders, laughing madly, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou are the best pilot I've ever seen! Crazy, yes, but the best!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBest?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked as Miles drew away, her head still a little dizzy, ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I don't know about that├óÔé¼┬Ø
Her eyes fell on Chess, then went back to Miles. ├óÔé¼┼ôMiles├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to talk to you...in private├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles nodded and engaged the hover gurney. But Teresa stopped him, getting out of the bed on her own. She staggered slightly, but held steady. Miles gaped. ├óÔé¼┼ôThats not possible├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, looking at her. Teresa pulled the bottom of her shirt up to expose the scar that she had gotten when she was shot. It was still there, but...much thinner then it should have been.
├óÔé¼┼ôHow did this...├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa started, then shook her head, ├óÔé¼┼ôNo time. Come with me├óÔé¼┬Ø she walked out of the room. Miles followed her, looking at Chess. Chess was still absorbed in her game.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo...do you know of what we believe?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou believe in God...other then that, not much├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa sighed, closing her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm...I'm not a Preacher...but its like this. The Saint Elizabeth was chosen by God, because she was completely pure. And so she gave birth to the Saviour, who looked like a normal girl. She matured to the age of ten, when she was supposed to taught the word of God. Then evil men came to her house, seeking to use her as a weapon in their wars. They took her away from her mother. Her mother searched long and far, but was unable to find her daughter in the sea of stars├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Saviour was taken to a distant city, called Nagasaki, and there experiments were preformed on her. Horrible, terrible things... and after four years she escaped, bringing the wrath of God on those who had caught to enslave her├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThis is all very interesting├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, standing up, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut what dose it-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo the Saviour fled to a distant planet,├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa cut him off, ├óÔé¼┼ôThere she hid, but the Devil had taken hold of her, warring to control her mind and body. Five brave knights caught her out, trying to retrieve her and protect her. They were balked and all but one died, cut down by the villainous enemies that surrounded the Saviour, trying to find her as well. But the last night, Michale, found the Saviour and returned her to her mother. Then the Saviour began to teach, but then the End Times were on us. God sought out the pure and brought them into heaven, leaving the impure to suffer. Once the End Times finished, the Saviour was brought back into heaven, and we were left with only her Mother, the Saint Elizabeth to guide us. But then a Traitor Priest, who did not wish to follow the teachings of the Savior, slew the Saint Elizabeth├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't see what this-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBut├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa continued doggedly, ignoring Miles' interruptions, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe took her teachings too the stars and formed the Church of the Tattooed...for the Saviour said she would return, just as the first Saviour said that he would return. And now she has├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGreeeat├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, sighing as he sat down, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat dose that have to do with us?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat woman...that woman you picked up in deep space├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa looked at him, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe's the messiah! She has returned to save us...before the next end times├óÔé¼┬Ø
CUT THEM OFF!
Teresa floated. The stars outside her window were strange, unfamiliar. Thats what an unplanned, unmapped Kliner jump would do to you.
She felt like a balloon, with a pin pushed into it, letting all the air out. Teresa felt her stomach, quite calmly. It was wet. She brought her finger tips right to her eyes, barely able to see them in the very dim lighting of the Michaelangelo. They were tinged with red...or was that the lighting from the consoles? Could be sweat. The small, one man ship was incredibly hot, the air muggy and thick. A red light started to flash on the air recycling boards.
├óÔé¼┼ôOh well├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôI bought them time├óÔé¼┬Ø
-----------------------------------
Jeremy looked at his new 'friend'. The Cardinal of Golgotha was a pencil thin man, anorexic, his face stretched tight around his skull, pale white skin shining under the lights of Jeremy's ship. It was a small ship, the October, but it got Jeremy from where he needed to be to where he needed to go. The Cardinal was sipping a bit of tea that Jeremy had arranged for him.
├óÔé¼┼ôI have one question├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said.
├óÔé¼┼ôHmm?├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal put down his tea cup.
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôSimple, really. The Tattooed are...inefficient for acquiring I want. Power, quite simply, is the only currency that means a damn anymore. And the Tattooed, no matter how much they like to think otherwise, are still a fringe group. There are only...six, five million out of...how many billions of people in the USHS?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôTwenty five billion├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, after thinking a few moments.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd because your a very good speaker├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal said. Jeremy gulped, not sure if he believed him, ├óÔé¼┼ôI thought that your movement could use some more official backing...unofficially├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôUnofficial official backing would come in handy├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI need money, script writers, propaganda specialists├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe're a intergalactic church. We have all of the above in abundance├óÔé¼┬Ø
Jeremy grinned, the nervousness falling back. He had help now, not just polite interest from a smattering of intellectuals. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow we can start reaching to the proletariat and the slave population├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal nodded, letting Jeremy start his plans. ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to start circulating pamphlets in the slaves of the Galactic North...and start some more speeches in the inner planets. You have good orators, right?├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal tilted his head in a very slight nod.
Jeremy stood, striding to his automatic -------. He ordered up an Earl Grey Tea, hot, and waited patiently for the machine to bring out at least a semi-drinkable version. He would rather have had to boil the water himself, but he didn't have the time. The cup slipped into his hands and he turned to the Cardinal, ├óÔé¼┼ôShould I keep speaking?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôIf we have all these new resources...then I might be needed here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal said, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou can still go to the boarder planets and drum up support. I can organize this movement from here├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThank you├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I have no want to lead the Revolution. I just want to see it in power again├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt shall be├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal had a rather evil grin on his skeletal face.
-----------------------------
├óÔé¼┼ôFollow them! FOLLOW THEM!├óÔé¼┬Ø The General shouted, slamming his fist down on the armrest of his chair.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir├óÔé¼┬Ø weathers said, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou know that we can't├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General stood, fuming, ├óÔé¼┼ôRecalibrate the Kliner field for the ship's new silhouette├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSir├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers rolled her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôThats going to take a week, tops. It will only take two days to reattach the gunnery pod├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General turned around, closing his eyes. ├óÔé¼┼ôTrack where both ships went├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôbefore their warp coordinates dissipate too much├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôAlready got it...├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, turning to her console. Lowman watched, chewing his lower lip. The General, with each move he had, seemed more...disturbed.
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Michaelangelo made a random jump├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, eyes widening, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe must not have had a path plotted. Followed the gravitational incline of the solar system...she'd have to be way way out of the USHS by now├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General grinned, wolfishly, ├óÔé¼┼ôWill she be able to jump back?├óÔé¼┬Ø he asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôMost likely...no├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe'd have to plot a course with unfamiliar constipations├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhere did the Kitty Hawk go?├óÔé¼┬Ø The General asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôSir├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôIf the Kitty Hawk has something dangerous on it...shouldn't you tell your crew?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhat?├óÔé¼┬Ø The General looked at Lowman.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou ordered us to open fire on a civilian ship├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, walking around a chair to get close to the General, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I would like to know why├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIts carrying a DAE, isn't that enough?├óÔé¼┬Ø The General asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôI need proof, first├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd...your actions, ever sense you've come onboard have been...erratic at best├óÔé¼┬Ø
The General snapped a glance at Weathers, saying ├óÔé¼┼ôFind that course...Lowman, follow me├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman followed the General down the hall, hoping that the General would tell him the method to his madness. If there was a method. That was what worried Lowman the most. He knew that he, as an officer, could probably wrangle support for the arrest and confinement of a superior officer if he had enough reason. He arrived at the office and the General opened the door, gesturing for him to come in.
Lowman stepped into the office, looking around. There was a picture of a fetching young woman on the desk, with the name ├óÔé¼┼ôMy Beloved Roxane├óÔé¼┬Ø on the bottom of the frame. The General walked behind his desk, reached into a drawer. Then Lowman was staring down the barrel of a gun.
├óÔé¼┼ôNow listen to me, Lowman├óÔé¼┬Ø the General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThis office has no security cames. I can shoot you and be easily able to dismiss it as an accident. I was just cleaning my gun, see├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman felt fear constrict his lungs. He still had his pistol strapped to his chest, but he could never reach it before the General fired. ├óÔé¼┼ôNow├óÔé¼┬Ø The General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI want you to understand this...if anyone gets between me and a Tattooed...I will kill them├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnd my reasons are immensely personal. As is this entire mission├óÔé¼┬Ø The General said, ├óÔé¼┼ôSo consider yourself a agent of...righteous wrath. We are going to make them pay for everything they have done├óÔé¼┬Ø
Lowman nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou're a good officer...but If you try to get in my way again, I will end you├óÔé¼┬Ø The General lowered his gun and hobbled past Lowman, his cane clicking as he did so. Lowman stood there for a few more seconds. Then he sighed, almost sagging. ├óÔé¼┼ôI think we might have more of a problem then I thought├óÔé¼┬Ø he murmured, running his hand through his hair.
------------------
├óÔé¼┼ôShe's such an...angry child├óÔé¼┬Ø
She was definitely out of known space, that much was sure. The Michaelangelo had rotated completely and she saw that off to the side there was a massive nebula, stretching upwards and to the left, a dizzying array of colors. There was no nebula that humanity had gotten close to. Too dangerous.
├óÔé¼┼ôAnother fight? How many were involved this time...seven?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa was fading, slowly. The Michaelangelo had turned away from the nebula, away from the massive, multicolored spectacle. Then a light shone through the cockpit, incredibly bright. Teresa was blinded, her eyes jammed shut. ├óÔé¼┼ôIs...is this god?├óÔé¼┬Ø She asked. But then she realized it. A ship was parked outside. Maybe aliens or something had found her.
Then the ship's search light moved off the cockpit and she could see its out line and the words emblazoned on the side. The Kitty Hawk. ├óÔé¼┼ôMaybe it is├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa murmured, ├óÔé¼┼ôMaybe it is...├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles scooped the Michaelangelo into his cargo hold. He looked at Chess, who was playing another game, the computer at the highest difficulty setting. He supposed that she was set and ran down the short halls of the ship. He got to the cargo bay and ran to the side of the Michaelangelo. The ship was long, slender and even nicer when he got close. Latin was scrawled over the entire thing, for what purpose he had no idea, and the door on the side was already opening.
Teresa slid out, thudding back first into the cargo bay floor. She was bleeding. ├óÔé¼┼ôShit├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôCHESS GET THE GURNEY!├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess looked up, hearing the shout echo down the halls. She stood and ran to the hover gurney. She activated it, using the same command key she had seen Miles use. She pushed the gurney down the hall, running along the wall, slightly unsteady on her feet.
Miles hauled Teresa to the gurney, grunting with the effort. The wound had reopened in the high Gee performance she had put herself through. He pushed the gurney down the hall, Chess following him. ├óÔé¼┼ôDo you know anything about medication?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked, looking at Chess. She nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôHow much...a lot?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Another nod. ├óÔé¼┼ôGood├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôPrep the medical bits and jumbles down in the room and such. I...I'm not a doctor├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess nodded, then ran faster then Miles could push the Gurney. He got to the main chamber of the Kitty Hawk, and Chess was ready with a packet of blood, a sealant and some medicheins. Miles stepped back as Chess stated to administer to Teresa, slapping the sealant on, setting up the blood intake and injecting the medicheins. Then she paused, chewing her lower lip and looking confused for the first time Miles had seen her awake.
Then she ran her hand over the wound, not quite touching the actual flesh. Then she stepped back and held up three fingers.
├óÔé¼┼ôThree days?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles asked. She shook her head. ├óÔé¼┼ôHours?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked. Chess nodded. ├óÔé¼┼ôSo she'll live?├óÔé¼┬Ø
Chess nodded, walking back to her chess game. Miles sighed, looking at Teresa. She had forced them to accelerate and dodge...which had saved their lives when the USHS ship had opened fire. She had then shot up a frigate with a single man fighter and made an unplanned Kliner jump. Miles had no way to plot his own jump, not in time...so he had followed the jump that Teresa used. Now he had no idea where they were...
Teresa sat up three hours later, looking around. She felt...good. Far better than she should have had under similar circumstances. She saw The Woman, fully dressed, sitting over a table. A chessboard was on the table, projecting holographic chess pieces that she moved quickly. Miles walked to Teresa's side.
The first thing that popped from his mouth was, ├óÔé¼┼ôThat was the stupidest, most brave, foolhardy thing I have seen in all my days in flying├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa opened her mouth, but Miles hugged her around the shoulders, laughing madly, ├óÔé¼┼ôYou are the best pilot I've ever seen! Crazy, yes, but the best!├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBest?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked as Miles drew away, her head still a little dizzy, ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I don't know about that├óÔé¼┬Ø
Her eyes fell on Chess, then went back to Miles. ├óÔé¼┼ôMiles├óÔé¼┬Ø she said, ├óÔé¼┼ôI need to talk to you...in private├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles nodded and engaged the hover gurney. But Teresa stopped him, getting out of the bed on her own. She staggered slightly, but held steady. Miles gaped. ├óÔé¼┼ôThats not possible├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, looking at her. Teresa pulled the bottom of her shirt up to expose the scar that she had gotten when she was shot. It was still there, but...much thinner then it should have been.
├óÔé¼┼ôHow did this...├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa started, then shook her head, ├óÔé¼┼ôNo time. Come with me├óÔé¼┬Ø she walked out of the room. Miles followed her, looking at Chess. Chess was still absorbed in her game.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo...do you know of what we believe?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôYou believe in God...other then that, not much├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa sighed, closing her eyes, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm...I'm not a Preacher...but its like this. The Saint Elizabeth was chosen by God, because she was completely pure. And so she gave birth to the Saviour, who looked like a normal girl. She matured to the age of ten, when she was supposed to taught the word of God. Then evil men came to her house, seeking to use her as a weapon in their wars. They took her away from her mother. Her mother searched long and far, but was unable to find her daughter in the sea of stars├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThe Saviour was taken to a distant city, called Nagasaki, and there experiments were preformed on her. Horrible, terrible things... and after four years she escaped, bringing the wrath of God on those who had caught to enslave her├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThis is all very interesting├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, standing up, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut what dose it-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôSo the Saviour fled to a distant planet,├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa cut him off, ├óÔé¼┼ôThere she hid, but the Devil had taken hold of her, warring to control her mind and body. Five brave knights caught her out, trying to retrieve her and protect her. They were balked and all but one died, cut down by the villainous enemies that surrounded the Saviour, trying to find her as well. But the last night, Michale, found the Saviour and returned her to her mother. Then the Saviour began to teach, but then the End Times were on us. God sought out the pure and brought them into heaven, leaving the impure to suffer. Once the End Times finished, the Saviour was brought back into heaven, and we were left with only her Mother, the Saint Elizabeth to guide us. But then a Traitor Priest, who did not wish to follow the teachings of the Savior, slew the Saint Elizabeth├óÔé¼┬Ø
Miles sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôI don't see what this-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBut├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa continued doggedly, ignoring Miles' interruptions, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe took her teachings too the stars and formed the Church of the Tattooed...for the Saviour said she would return, just as the first Saviour said that he would return. And now she has├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôGreeeat├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, sighing as he sat down, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat dose that have to do with us?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat woman...that woman you picked up in deep space├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa looked at him, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe's the messiah! She has returned to save us...before the next end times├óÔé¼┬Ø
-
SpikedHelmet
- MC: Legacy & Spring 1944 Developer
- Posts: 1948
- Joined: 21 Sep 2004, 08:25
First: Tell me...what is OCC?
Then, for your question,
Best Answer: Go to the begging and read the thing. I write it for a reason.
Short Answer: Its got everything! Love, hate, fear, Communism, Religion, warfare, insurrection, rebellion, ancient secrets, enemy powers and aliens vast beyond our imaginings.
Then, for your question,
Best Answer: Go to the begging and read the thing. I write it for a reason.
Short Answer: Its got everything! Love, hate, fear, Communism, Religion, warfare, insurrection, rebellion, ancient secrets, enemy powers and aliens vast beyond our imaginings.
And behold, there is another post.
And there was much rejoycing.
Miles looked over his shoulder, looking out of the room. Teresa leaned against the wall, tiring despite her already miraculous healing speed.
Miraculous. Miracle. Miles shook himself. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is crazy├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, looking back at Teresa.
├óÔé¼┼ôCrazy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôTime will convince you otherwise├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYour not going to argue the point?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy should I. She will argue is far more eloquently, with actions├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou mean I should take her to a lake and see if she walks on water├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe...she is capable of far more impressive feats then that├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes...├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut I don't see exactly how she's going to spread the holy word...when she refuses to talk├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShe is...she is judging us├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa walked to the door, looking around the corner at Chess, who was still engrossed in her game, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhen she feels the time is appropriate...she will speak, and all will be swayed. Did you ever here the phrase, Third Time's the charm├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa looked at Miles, smiling, ├óÔé¼┼ôThis one is the one were everyone comes. No one will be left behind├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôComes? Comes where?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles stepped closer.
├óÔé¼┼ôHeaven, of course├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa smiled, leaning against the wall. She did a little hop, giggling like a school girl. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is so exiting!├óÔé¼┬Ø she hissed.
├óÔé¼┼ôThats not the word I'd use├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered, looking at his feet. Teresa made a 'hmmm' noise, but Miles looked up. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou look a bit scraggly. Theres a shower in the back├óÔé¼┬Ø he pointed at the back of the room, which was his own sleeping quarters, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd the bed's okay for you to use. I'm going to be trying to figure out where the hell you put us├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou never had to follow me├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa pointed out, but Miles was already walking down the hall.
├óÔé¼┼ôShe just had to be crazy as hell├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered as he sat down in his command chair, bringing up a star map. He started trying to identify some kind of familer object in the sky. Chess leaned back in her chair, the computer frantically trying to find a way out of the trap she had set for it. In three moves a small, tinny voice said, ├óÔé¼┼ôcheck mate├óÔé¼┬Ø
Water ran down Teresa's sides. She let her hair fall back about her shoulders and sighed contentedly. It felt like the shower was washing off a years worth of sweat. Her fingers probed the scar in her stomach and she felt a twinge of pain. Teresa leaned against the wall of the shower, her legs getting weak. Her back pushed into a button placed there and suddenly the room was filled with orgasmic moaning. Teresa's eyes opened and she looked around. The walls were displaying nude men and women entwined in sexual acts, some looking completely impossible. Teresa frowned. Then she tilted her head, wondering if that...was that possible.
Teresa frowned again and pressed the button. The walls turned off, turning back to a normal shower room wall texture. Teresa had suddenly lost interest in the shower and turned the water off.
-----------------------
Lowman looked out the window to his room, seeing the robotic repair bots reattaching the severed gunnery pods. It was slow going, as the robots were low powered and the gunnery pod was huge. But Lowman thought, he should be great full. It gave him time to do this. Weathers walked into the room, shucking her over jacket as she did so. She sat down, using the seat that Lowman offered her. A few minuets later Grimm walked in, looking nervously about. He leaned against the side of the wall, nervously glancing at the door once every few moments.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, turning away from the window, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm sure that you all know why I called you here├óÔé¼┬Ø
Weathers and Grimm nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman tugged at one of his nostrils, cricking his neck, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to get General Dobson...out of that Capitan chair├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell...I'm not sure├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, ├óÔé¼┼ôHe's only...slightly unhinged├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôHe's done a bit more then that. When he took me away, to...confer in his office, he threated to shoot me in the face if I did not follow his orders├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThats...thats quite a claim├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm muttered.
├óÔé¼┼ôIts also true├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThe General seems fixated on killing Tatts, on hurting Tatts...he has something against Tatts, obviously, but we need to know why. I want to run a full background check on him, and I want to know everything about his record. Everything. Don't leave a single stone unturned, just find out some...reasons why├óÔé¼┬Ø
Weathers nodded. Grimm, however, shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I can't go along with this├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôDobson...he's a superior officer. Pulling this kind of stunt could get all our carriers ruined completely. I have an entire life before me that I don't want to be screwed over by some minor backwater incident├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI wouldn't call threatening to kill his second mate if he got in his way some 'minor backwards incident├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said.
├óÔé¼┼ôI still don't believe that├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm said, opening the door, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I don't want to hear anything more. Speculation is not reportable. Actual plotting is. So I'll leave before I have to report you...but consider that your last favor├óÔé¼┬Ø
He walked out.
Weathers sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôWell...thats one point against us├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe're still going to manage├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman closed his eyes, feeling much much older then his actual fifty three years, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have too├óÔé¼┬Ø
------------------------------------
Vindict licked his lips as he read the reports. He frowned. ├óÔé¼┼ôBar room brawls. Skirmishes with USHS forces...this does not sound promising├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal of Golgotha nodded his head slightly, ├óÔé¼┼ôI to expected Teresa to do better then she has... but she will succeed, I'm sure of it. Her service record-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDoes not extend to this. The Messiah needs a paragon of virtue, to show her that the universe has not gone to hell in a handy basket. Teresa could keep her safe, but...she is not the most...peaceful woman├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBut is it better to have a happy Messiah or a dead one?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou presume that Gods work could be so easily undone!├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict stood, irritation flashing across his face.
├óÔé¼┼ôHigh Illustrator├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal said, standing as well, ├óÔé¼┼ôI presume nothing. But you can just look around and see that the Devil has taken hold of much of the galaxy. Who's to say that she will not be attacked by his servants in the days ahead. Who better then Teresa to handle that├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI still believe we've made a mistake├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I want to recall Teresa and put out one of our more diplomatic members├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat would requite a return of the vote we took├óÔé¼┬Ø the Cardinal said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I would not be for it├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt saddens me that we are against each other in this circumstance├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict said, ├óÔé¼┼ôMaybe if you were...in your home Parish more often then we could Discuss it easier├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal's face colored slightly, amazing that was possible with the amount of flesh on his face.
├óÔé¼┼ôI do not need to take abuse for doing my duties├óÔé¼┬Ø he said softly.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo your duties mean consorting with Communists?├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict smiled.
The Cardinal's eyes widened slightly, but he made no other motion.
├óÔé¼┼ôI know more then you think...and though the Inquisition is long past, you never know when we might need to call a new hearing├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I will call together the Cardinals as soon as possible. But because you were already in this system...you will stay here for however long it takes them to arrive. Have a nice week, Cardinal├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal bowed stiffly and walked out, not looking back at Vindict. Vindict frowned as he sat down. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat has happened to this church?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked the air. The air, as it normally did in situations like this, said nothing.
---------------------
Jeremy jumped as the door to his room opened. The Outreach star system was a dim one, with a single, almost burned out star. The planet in the system had a shield, just like most planets settled right after the End Times, and so was protected by much of the deadly radiation. It didn't get any hotter, but at least the domes could be set up with little trouble. Dim, sickly white sunlight filtered through the windows and snow fell on the dome, creating large tracts of the city that were blacked out, sunlight blocked by the snow.
His new friend, the Cardinal walked in, fuming. Or at least fuming as much as someone who was as thin as that could. ├óÔé¼┼ôVindict...he tightens his leash├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not sure if its a good idea to stay here├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe might get...attacked├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo...Vindict is a simpering fool. The power of voice is all important here. I just need to get as many votes on my side as possible. We can not have Teresa Voorman recalled├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôBecause Teresa has many emeries, as many as this church... she will attract them like flies to any system she goes too. These enemies will not see a difference between her ship and her, and if the Messiah is on her ship, then she will also be destroyed when the ship is destroyed. Even if the Messiah and Teresa survive, they will be slowed down enough for us to get some leverage. But its going to be hard. For every man or woman we turn to our side, the Messiah will turn ten. So we have to work twenty times harder. Simple arithmetic├óÔé¼┬Ø
And there was much rejoycing.
Miles looked over his shoulder, looking out of the room. Teresa leaned against the wall, tiring despite her already miraculous healing speed.
Miraculous. Miracle. Miles shook himself. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is crazy├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, looking back at Teresa.
├óÔé¼┼ôCrazy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa asked, ├óÔé¼┼ôTime will convince you otherwise├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYour not going to argue the point?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy should I. She will argue is far more eloquently, with actions├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou mean I should take her to a lake and see if she walks on water├óÔé¼┬Ø
Teresa sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôShe...she is capable of far more impressive feats then that├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYes...├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles said, ├óÔé¼┼ôBut I don't see exactly how she's going to spread the holy word...when she refuses to talk├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôShe is...she is judging us├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa walked to the door, looking around the corner at Chess, who was still engrossed in her game, ├óÔé¼┼ôWhen she feels the time is appropriate...she will speak, and all will be swayed. Did you ever here the phrase, Third Time's the charm├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa looked at Miles, smiling, ├óÔé¼┼ôThis one is the one were everyone comes. No one will be left behind├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôComes? Comes where?├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles stepped closer.
├óÔé¼┼ôHeaven, of course├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa smiled, leaning against the wall. She did a little hop, giggling like a school girl. ├óÔé¼┼ôThis is so exiting!├óÔé¼┬Ø she hissed.
├óÔé¼┼ôThats not the word I'd use├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered, looking at his feet. Teresa made a 'hmmm' noise, but Miles looked up. ├óÔé¼┼ôYou look a bit scraggly. Theres a shower in the back├óÔé¼┬Ø he pointed at the back of the room, which was his own sleeping quarters, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd the bed's okay for you to use. I'm going to be trying to figure out where the hell you put us├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou never had to follow me├óÔé¼┬Ø Teresa pointed out, but Miles was already walking down the hall.
├óÔé¼┼ôShe just had to be crazy as hell├óÔé¼┬Ø Miles muttered as he sat down in his command chair, bringing up a star map. He started trying to identify some kind of familer object in the sky. Chess leaned back in her chair, the computer frantically trying to find a way out of the trap she had set for it. In three moves a small, tinny voice said, ├óÔé¼┼ôcheck mate├óÔé¼┬Ø
Water ran down Teresa's sides. She let her hair fall back about her shoulders and sighed contentedly. It felt like the shower was washing off a years worth of sweat. Her fingers probed the scar in her stomach and she felt a twinge of pain. Teresa leaned against the wall of the shower, her legs getting weak. Her back pushed into a button placed there and suddenly the room was filled with orgasmic moaning. Teresa's eyes opened and she looked around. The walls were displaying nude men and women entwined in sexual acts, some looking completely impossible. Teresa frowned. Then she tilted her head, wondering if that...was that possible.
Teresa frowned again and pressed the button. The walls turned off, turning back to a normal shower room wall texture. Teresa had suddenly lost interest in the shower and turned the water off.
-----------------------
Lowman looked out the window to his room, seeing the robotic repair bots reattaching the severed gunnery pods. It was slow going, as the robots were low powered and the gunnery pod was huge. But Lowman thought, he should be great full. It gave him time to do this. Weathers walked into the room, shucking her over jacket as she did so. She sat down, using the seat that Lowman offered her. A few minuets later Grimm walked in, looking nervously about. He leaned against the side of the wall, nervously glancing at the door once every few moments.
├óÔé¼┼ôSo├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, turning away from the window, ├óÔé¼┼ôI'm sure that you all know why I called you here├óÔé¼┬Ø
Weathers and Grimm nodded.
├óÔé¼┼ôWell├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman tugged at one of his nostrils, cricking his neck, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have to get General Dobson...out of that Capitan chair├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWell...I'm not sure├óÔé¼┬Ø Weathers said, ├óÔé¼┼ôHe's only...slightly unhinged├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôHe's done a bit more then that. When he took me away, to...confer in his office, he threated to shoot me in the face if I did not follow his orders├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThats...thats quite a claim├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm muttered.
├óÔé¼┼ôIts also true├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said, ├óÔé¼┼ôThe General seems fixated on killing Tatts, on hurting Tatts...he has something against Tatts, obviously, but we need to know why. I want to run a full background check on him, and I want to know everything about his record. Everything. Don't leave a single stone unturned, just find out some...reasons why├óÔé¼┬Ø
Weathers nodded. Grimm, however, shook his head. ├óÔé¼┼ôI...I can't go along with this├óÔé¼┬Ø he said, ├óÔé¼┼ôDobson...he's a superior officer. Pulling this kind of stunt could get all our carriers ruined completely. I have an entire life before me that I don't want to be screwed over by some minor backwater incident├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI wouldn't call threatening to kill his second mate if he got in his way some 'minor backwards incident├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman said.
├óÔé¼┼ôI still don't believe that├óÔé¼┬Ø Grimm said, opening the door, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I don't want to hear anything more. Speculation is not reportable. Actual plotting is. So I'll leave before I have to report you...but consider that your last favor├óÔé¼┬Ø
He walked out.
Weathers sighed, ├óÔé¼┼ôWell...thats one point against us├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWe're still going to manage├óÔé¼┬Ø Lowman closed his eyes, feeling much much older then his actual fifty three years, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe have too├óÔé¼┬Ø
------------------------------------
Vindict licked his lips as he read the reports. He frowned. ├óÔé¼┼ôBar room brawls. Skirmishes with USHS forces...this does not sound promising├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal of Golgotha nodded his head slightly, ├óÔé¼┼ôI to expected Teresa to do better then she has... but she will succeed, I'm sure of it. Her service record-├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôDoes not extend to this. The Messiah needs a paragon of virtue, to show her that the universe has not gone to hell in a handy basket. Teresa could keep her safe, but...she is not the most...peaceful woman├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôBut is it better to have a happy Messiah or a dead one?├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôYou presume that Gods work could be so easily undone!├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict stood, irritation flashing across his face.
├óÔé¼┼ôHigh Illustrator├óÔé¼┬Ø The Cardinal said, standing as well, ├óÔé¼┼ôI presume nothing. But you can just look around and see that the Devil has taken hold of much of the galaxy. Who's to say that she will not be attacked by his servants in the days ahead. Who better then Teresa to handle that├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI still believe we've made a mistake├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I want to recall Teresa and put out one of our more diplomatic members├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôThat would requite a return of the vote we took├óÔé¼┬Ø the Cardinal said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I would not be for it├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôIt saddens me that we are against each other in this circumstance├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict said, ├óÔé¼┼ôMaybe if you were...in your home Parish more often then we could Discuss it easier├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal's face colored slightly, amazing that was possible with the amount of flesh on his face.
├óÔé¼┼ôI do not need to take abuse for doing my duties├óÔé¼┬Ø he said softly.
├óÔé¼┼ôDo your duties mean consorting with Communists?├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict smiled.
The Cardinal's eyes widened slightly, but he made no other motion.
├óÔé¼┼ôI know more then you think...and though the Inquisition is long past, you never know when we might need to call a new hearing├óÔé¼┬Ø Vindict said, ├óÔé¼┼ôAnd I will call together the Cardinals as soon as possible. But because you were already in this system...you will stay here for however long it takes them to arrive. Have a nice week, Cardinal├óÔé¼┬Ø
The Cardinal bowed stiffly and walked out, not looking back at Vindict. Vindict frowned as he sat down. ├óÔé¼┼ôWhat has happened to this church?├óÔé¼┬Ø He asked the air. The air, as it normally did in situations like this, said nothing.
---------------------
Jeremy jumped as the door to his room opened. The Outreach star system was a dim one, with a single, almost burned out star. The planet in the system had a shield, just like most planets settled right after the End Times, and so was protected by much of the deadly radiation. It didn't get any hotter, but at least the domes could be set up with little trouble. Dim, sickly white sunlight filtered through the windows and snow fell on the dome, creating large tracts of the city that were blacked out, sunlight blocked by the snow.
His new friend, the Cardinal walked in, fuming. Or at least fuming as much as someone who was as thin as that could. ├óÔé¼┼ôVindict...he tightens his leash├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôI'm not sure if its a good idea to stay here├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy said, ├óÔé¼┼ôWe might get...attacked├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôNo...Vindict is a simpering fool. The power of voice is all important here. I just need to get as many votes on my side as possible. We can not have Teresa Voorman recalled├óÔé¼┬Ø
├óÔé¼┼ôWhy?├óÔé¼┬Ø Jeremy asked.
├óÔé¼┼ôBecause Teresa has many emeries, as many as this church... she will attract them like flies to any system she goes too. These enemies will not see a difference between her ship and her, and if the Messiah is on her ship, then she will also be destroyed when the ship is destroyed. Even if the Messiah and Teresa survive, they will be slowed down enough for us to get some leverage. But its going to be hard. For every man or woman we turn to our side, the Messiah will turn ten. So we have to work twenty times harder. Simple arithmetic├óÔé¼┬Ø
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Guessmyname
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- Joined: 28 Apr 2005, 21:07