Maybe I do just have an over active imagination, Ice thought. He really had very little evidence for his conspiracy theory, and he knew it, but some days he was just so desperate for something different to happen that he was willing to believe any story if it would add some interest. The most unbelievable part of his conspiracy was that this shape shifter was their passenger to be. What a gross assumption. What a strange thing to hope for.
He knew the trip was long, and he had a pretty good feeling that he knew what Jake would be doing. As long as he didn't go back into the cockpit, the next few hours would be in complete solitude. He saw the time as an opportunity to indulge in one of his hobbies. No, not conspiracy theories. Paper back novels. They hadn't been printed for years, but Ice had a reasonable collection assembled. He was currently in the middle of reading "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?" which provided some very different perspectives on existence.
As he read his eyes slowly glazed over and sleep set in. And with sleep came the dreams. Dreams of companionship, dreams of belonging and dreams of love. Dreams of grassy knolls, smiles, and warm embraces. Dreams of being care free.
He often had pleasant dreams. Though, he wondered how pleasant they really were considering the harsh reality check that occurred every time he awoke. The age old expression applies here, is it better to have loved and lost, then to not have loved at all? Even if it was just a dream, it always felt real until morning. Who knows if he was better off or not because of these dreams, and who really cares. It is how it is, he thought.
23.4.08
18.3.08
A Little Secret
"Shape-shifters? HAHAHAHA!" Jake roared with laughter. "Yea I've *heard* of shape-shifters, I've also heard of Santa Clause and the Boogie-man, what's your point?"
Jake waited a moment but there was no response from Ice. "Hello? Earth to Ice, over." Ice just started at the wall. "Hmmm.... conspiracy theories? Check. Catatonia? Check. Alright Ice you been holdin' out on me long enough, where's the stash of Halids?"
"What? Oh uh.... sorry. I was thinking about something else. I'm really tired all of a sudden. I'm going to go lay down." He said glumly. He slowly rose from his seat and stepped out of the cockpit.
Jake was baffled. "Well that's a big ol' what the fuck." He said to himself. He was now alone in the cockpit, staring out into space. Alone with his thoughts. Jake hated being given time to think. Endless questions ruminated around inside his brain to which there were no answers. The endless speculation on things which there were little information available nearly drove him insane. What if Ice was right? How did the High Chancellor consolidate so much power? Who would be his replacement? How long would this war last? What were the Molin really like? Where did life originate? What is the purpose of life? It was like watching 50 different holo-vision channels at the same time but not really making sense of any of them. Jake wondered if he was the only person like this. It got so bad sometimes he had difficulty sleeping.
Jake looked up at the auto-pilot timer which read 20 hours remaining. Lots of time. He lifted up his foot and opened a small hidden compartment in his boot containing a small pill, and a small vial. "Plenty o' time for some aege." (Pronounced: A-Jee) Named that way simply because it causes you to age, sort of. It was a combination hallucinogen and sleeping pill. Knock you flat on your ass with wild dreams to boot. Sure you lose about 10 hours of your life in a coma-like state, but Jake felt it was better then listening to the shit running through his brain. He swallowed the pill down and the look on his face perfectly described just how bad it tasted. Then he took the small vial, filled with a balanced chemical concoction guaranteed to leave no trace of Aege in his system. After all, he wouldn't want to lose his job.
It took mere minutes for him to become groggy, and he soon passed out in his flight chair. His dreams were vivid. A space battle of epic proportions. Huge battle cruisers, swarms of fighters, lasers and missiles flying in all directions. He was locked in a dogfight with an enemy fighter right on his tail. Swerving, rolling, and diving he used every trick he knew to evade his opponent but he could not shake him. His palms were already slick with sweat when *Missle Lock* appeared on his heads up display. His heart sunk into his stomach. He quickly killed the main thrusters, tilted up 150 degrees and reengaged them. A maneuver that would have been an instant fail back at the academy for the strain on the ship more often then not would cause it to rupture. However in his dream the ship did not rupture. It shook, sputtered, rattled and whined, but did not rupture. He fired the anti-missile chaff just to be sure though he did not think any missile could make such a sharp turn.
Now the tables had turned. His enemy was in his sights and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Not as good at runnin' as you are at chasin' are you!" Jake shouted as he brought the ship into his sights, and fired. Suddenly time slowed down. As soon as his finger hit the trigger he took a second look. He had fired on a friendly target! In slow motion, his weapons cut the vessel in two. He could see the ships contents being sucked out into space. He could see the corpses being sucked out into space, convulsing. He could see his friend Ice, being sucked out into space. Dead.
He panicked. Shivers went down his spine as his ship rocketed on away from the battle. He was in a complete state of shock, not moving, not blinking, flying into empty space. But it wasn't empty. Something small was in front of him, getting closer, and closer. Finally he recognized the giant disembodied head of the High Chancellor. With piercing eyes and an evil grin it began to laugh. It was laughing at Jake. Then the face began to change. The skin turned purple and dry. The eyes became black as space and the hair became tentacles, twitching and dancing as if each had a mind of it's own. It was the face of a Molin. Paralyzed with horror, Jake could do nothing but watch as his craft slowly flew into the laughing mouth of the High Chancellor.
Jake waited a moment but there was no response from Ice. "Hello? Earth to Ice, over." Ice just started at the wall. "Hmmm.... conspiracy theories? Check. Catatonia? Check. Alright Ice you been holdin' out on me long enough, where's the stash of Halids?"
"What? Oh uh.... sorry. I was thinking about something else. I'm really tired all of a sudden. I'm going to go lay down." He said glumly. He slowly rose from his seat and stepped out of the cockpit.
Jake was baffled. "Well that's a big ol' what the fuck." He said to himself. He was now alone in the cockpit, staring out into space. Alone with his thoughts. Jake hated being given time to think. Endless questions ruminated around inside his brain to which there were no answers. The endless speculation on things which there were little information available nearly drove him insane. What if Ice was right? How did the High Chancellor consolidate so much power? Who would be his replacement? How long would this war last? What were the Molin really like? Where did life originate? What is the purpose of life? It was like watching 50 different holo-vision channels at the same time but not really making sense of any of them. Jake wondered if he was the only person like this. It got so bad sometimes he had difficulty sleeping.
Jake looked up at the auto-pilot timer which read 20 hours remaining. Lots of time. He lifted up his foot and opened a small hidden compartment in his boot containing a small pill, and a small vial. "Plenty o' time for some aege." (Pronounced: A-Jee) Named that way simply because it causes you to age, sort of. It was a combination hallucinogen and sleeping pill. Knock you flat on your ass with wild dreams to boot. Sure you lose about 10 hours of your life in a coma-like state, but Jake felt it was better then listening to the shit running through his brain. He swallowed the pill down and the look on his face perfectly described just how bad it tasted. Then he took the small vial, filled with a balanced chemical concoction guaranteed to leave no trace of Aege in his system. After all, he wouldn't want to lose his job.
It took mere minutes for him to become groggy, and he soon passed out in his flight chair. His dreams were vivid. A space battle of epic proportions. Huge battle cruisers, swarms of fighters, lasers and missiles flying in all directions. He was locked in a dogfight with an enemy fighter right on his tail. Swerving, rolling, and diving he used every trick he knew to evade his opponent but he could not shake him. His palms were already slick with sweat when *Missle Lock* appeared on his heads up display. His heart sunk into his stomach. He quickly killed the main thrusters, tilted up 150 degrees and reengaged them. A maneuver that would have been an instant fail back at the academy for the strain on the ship more often then not would cause it to rupture. However in his dream the ship did not rupture. It shook, sputtered, rattled and whined, but did not rupture. He fired the anti-missile chaff just to be sure though he did not think any missile could make such a sharp turn.
Now the tables had turned. His enemy was in his sights and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Not as good at runnin' as you are at chasin' are you!" Jake shouted as he brought the ship into his sights, and fired. Suddenly time slowed down. As soon as his finger hit the trigger he took a second look. He had fired on a friendly target! In slow motion, his weapons cut the vessel in two. He could see the ships contents being sucked out into space. He could see the corpses being sucked out into space, convulsing. He could see his friend Ice, being sucked out into space. Dead.
He panicked. Shivers went down his spine as his ship rocketed on away from the battle. He was in a complete state of shock, not moving, not blinking, flying into empty space. But it wasn't empty. Something small was in front of him, getting closer, and closer. Finally he recognized the giant disembodied head of the High Chancellor. With piercing eyes and an evil grin it began to laugh. It was laughing at Jake. Then the face began to change. The skin turned purple and dry. The eyes became black as space and the hair became tentacles, twitching and dancing as if each had a mind of it's own. It was the face of a Molin. Paralyzed with horror, Jake could do nothing but watch as his craft slowly flew into the laughing mouth of the High Chancellor.
16.3.08
Psyche Spin
Shapeshifers. The word cut deep into Ice's subconcious. Arousing feelings of dissatisfaction and envy and ...... imagining what it would be like to at least pretend to fit in.
Ever since he was found in that wreck back on Earth he was surrounded by humans, human culture, human leaders, even human females. He was well recognized and respected for his intellect yet had next to no real friendships. Despite his companionship with Jake, Ice felt empty and detatched. His rejection of human societies expectations left him purposeless. Going through the motions and obeying orders was easy enough, but it was more because of the lack of alternatives than the real drive to succeed in the military. It was also because deep down somewhere he hoped that in his campaigns he would one day find another like himself. Another lonely creature whose closest thing to a mother was an escape pod, jettison from a doomed planet. That he would one day find a cure for that feeling that had crept deep into his heart these long years. The hope that he would no longer be alone.
It was his one true achillies heel. Even now as the emotions swirled through his mind time began to race foward. His friend had long since responded, but as if in a trance Ice had not heard for the feeling shattered his concentration and awareness completely. He breathed deep as the sea of despair washed over him. Once again coming to grips with the fact that his options were limited. All he could do was keep breathing, put one foot in front of the next, and live one day at a time. It was best to not think about it lest he be distracted and endanger those around him.
Ever since he was found in that wreck back on Earth he was surrounded by humans, human culture, human leaders, even human females. He was well recognized and respected for his intellect yet had next to no real friendships. Despite his companionship with Jake, Ice felt empty and detatched. His rejection of human societies expectations left him purposeless. Going through the motions and obeying orders was easy enough, but it was more because of the lack of alternatives than the real drive to succeed in the military. It was also because deep down somewhere he hoped that in his campaigns he would one day find another like himself. Another lonely creature whose closest thing to a mother was an escape pod, jettison from a doomed planet. That he would one day find a cure for that feeling that had crept deep into his heart these long years. The hope that he would no longer be alone.
It was his one true achillies heel. Even now as the emotions swirled through his mind time began to race foward. His friend had long since responded, but as if in a trance Ice had not heard for the feeling shattered his concentration and awareness completely. He breathed deep as the sea of despair washed over him. Once again coming to grips with the fact that his options were limited. All he could do was keep breathing, put one foot in front of the next, and live one day at a time. It was best to not think about it lest he be distracted and endanger those around him.
13.3.08
Why us?
"Waypoint reached."
"Still nothing out there." Complained Jake. He reached into an overhead compartment and pulled out an electronic clipboard. Reluctantly he pulled up the mission briefing to see exactly what their flight path was. Ice still hadn't told him how many waypoints there were, he said if it was important enough Jake could find out himself. So he did. "Wow, this is the most roundabout and erratic path they could have chosen. It's as if I made it myself!"
"So let me ask you, how do you remain unpredictable when your whole plan is to be unpredictable? Quite the paradox."
"You think too much. It's unnatural for a bear." Snapped Jake. Ice just laughed, which sounded alot more like a roar if you weren't used to it. In fact, just about every facet of Ice was intimidating at first impression. He was huge. Massive really. At least eight feet tall and well over 300LBS of pure muscle. And fur. In short, Ice was essentially a biped polar bear whose origins are not important for the moment. He was very much like any human save the excellent sense of smell and very poor vision. He wore a thin metallic visor across his eyes to help him see. "So, nowhere in this briefing is it explained why they're sending a combat oriented fighter to transport a civilian from Andross. It doesn't make any sense. We're not particularly fast or well armored. I mean, they don't call Valkyries suicide shuttles for nothing, right?"
"Well, what I've managed to piece together through eavesdropping, intuition, and a little common sense, is that the Molin will be thinking what you're thinking. We're just a single insignificant combat vessel, and may very likely be overlooked if spotted. Some other members of our squadron revealed to me that they would be escorting a full fledged civilian transport to Andross and back. I assume the main convoy is a decoy to allow us to remain undetected with the real cargo."
"Jesus, that's a bit excessive just to transport a civilian isn't it? You'd think we were escorting the High Chancellor himself!"
"No, not the High Chancellor. His mentor."
"What???" Jake was in complete disbelief. "This is getting more far fetched by the minute!" He looked down at the clipboard again to reread the briefing.
"The passenger's identity isn't in the briefing."
"You know what? You're a know it all. You know that?"
"A know it all would." Ice smirked.
"I hate you." Jake sulked. "So how do you know who we're picking up then? I didn't even know the High Chancellor had a mentor."
"Well... It's certainly not public knowledge. To be perfectly honest I'm just guessing. Here, take a look at my scrapbook." Ice sat up, punched a few buttons on the console and a slide show began on a nearby monitor. "Here's some photo's from the last three years worth of the Chancellor's press conferences." The photo's displayed for about 10 seconds each and would then switch. This lasted for about 2-3 minutes before Jake had enough.
"Ok, what the hell it's the High Chancellor, big whoop, what are we supposed to be looking at here?"
"Look closer." Ice paused the slide show on one image. "Notice anything unusual?"
Jake squinted his eyes trying to notice any detail. "Well it must be a damn hot day out cause that guy in the back is sweating buckets!" He laughed. Ice then went to the next slide. "Hey looks like another hot day, haha! Heatwave that year on Nebulous or what?"
"Only one of them is sweating."
Jake looked closer. Ice flipped the slide again. Once more, only one man in the back was sweating, everyone else looked completely normal. Ice flipped through slide after slide and the same pattern occurred. One man in the back sweating profusely. It was never the same man, but it was always just one. "So the Chancellor hires a new sweaty assistant every couple weeks, what does this have to do with the whole mentor theory?"
"Have you ever heard of shape-shifters?"
"Still nothing out there." Complained Jake. He reached into an overhead compartment and pulled out an electronic clipboard. Reluctantly he pulled up the mission briefing to see exactly what their flight path was. Ice still hadn't told him how many waypoints there were, he said if it was important enough Jake could find out himself. So he did. "Wow, this is the most roundabout and erratic path they could have chosen. It's as if I made it myself!"
"So let me ask you, how do you remain unpredictable when your whole plan is to be unpredictable? Quite the paradox."
"You think too much. It's unnatural for a bear." Snapped Jake. Ice just laughed, which sounded alot more like a roar if you weren't used to it. In fact, just about every facet of Ice was intimidating at first impression. He was huge. Massive really. At least eight feet tall and well over 300LBS of pure muscle. And fur. In short, Ice was essentially a biped polar bear whose origins are not important for the moment. He was very much like any human save the excellent sense of smell and very poor vision. He wore a thin metallic visor across his eyes to help him see. "So, nowhere in this briefing is it explained why they're sending a combat oriented fighter to transport a civilian from Andross. It doesn't make any sense. We're not particularly fast or well armored. I mean, they don't call Valkyries suicide shuttles for nothing, right?"
"Well, what I've managed to piece together through eavesdropping, intuition, and a little common sense, is that the Molin will be thinking what you're thinking. We're just a single insignificant combat vessel, and may very likely be overlooked if spotted. Some other members of our squadron revealed to me that they would be escorting a full fledged civilian transport to Andross and back. I assume the main convoy is a decoy to allow us to remain undetected with the real cargo."
"Jesus, that's a bit excessive just to transport a civilian isn't it? You'd think we were escorting the High Chancellor himself!"
"No, not the High Chancellor. His mentor."
"What???" Jake was in complete disbelief. "This is getting more far fetched by the minute!" He looked down at the clipboard again to reread the briefing.
"The passenger's identity isn't in the briefing."
"You know what? You're a know it all. You know that?"
"A know it all would." Ice smirked.
"I hate you." Jake sulked. "So how do you know who we're picking up then? I didn't even know the High Chancellor had a mentor."
"Well... It's certainly not public knowledge. To be perfectly honest I'm just guessing. Here, take a look at my scrapbook." Ice sat up, punched a few buttons on the console and a slide show began on a nearby monitor. "Here's some photo's from the last three years worth of the Chancellor's press conferences." The photo's displayed for about 10 seconds each and would then switch. This lasted for about 2-3 minutes before Jake had enough.
"Ok, what the hell it's the High Chancellor, big whoop, what are we supposed to be looking at here?"
"Look closer." Ice paused the slide show on one image. "Notice anything unusual?"
Jake squinted his eyes trying to notice any detail. "Well it must be a damn hot day out cause that guy in the back is sweating buckets!" He laughed. Ice then went to the next slide. "Hey looks like another hot day, haha! Heatwave that year on Nebulous or what?"
"Only one of them is sweating."
Jake looked closer. Ice flipped the slide again. Once more, only one man in the back was sweating, everyone else looked completely normal. Ice flipped through slide after slide and the same pattern occurred. One man in the back sweating profusely. It was never the same man, but it was always just one. "So the Chancellor hires a new sweaty assistant every couple weeks, what does this have to do with the whole mentor theory?"
"Have you ever heard of shape-shifters?"
Boring Introductions
"This has got to be the most boring assignment we've had in months...."
"True dat." *sluuuurp*
"Do you really have to slurp your drink like that?"
*slluurrrrrppppp*
"Fine....." Jake looked out the cockpit window, "Nothing." He looked down at the radar and gave it a little tap just to make sure it wasn't broken. Still nothing. "How are we supposed to keep up our head count with missions like this?"
"You're not. Forgetting the Commander's speech already?" *slluuuurp*
"I'm never taking us to Space Burger ever again, you got that?"
*sllluuurrrrppp*
"ARRHGHH! Look I know what the Commander said in his speech but he doesn't mean all that, that's just the official line."
"So you are in contention with the fact that wars are not won by killing soldiers?" *slurp*
"You're missing the point."
Suddenly the cockpit emitted a serene female voice "Waypoint reached." Ice sat up and took his feet off the console, replacing them with his drink. He began entering flight information to reach the next waypoint in their recon, interfacing with the small craft at a rather alarming and inhuman rate.
"You ever think about taking up ping pong?" Jake jested, constantly amazed that such a large creature could move at such a rate. "How many stops on our route anyway?"
"You didn't read the briefing did you?"
"Oh yea cause I'm going to get suuuch valuable information reading the stupid briefing. I bet I can sum it up.... fly around x y z, report or destroy any bogeys, report back to the mothership. Try not to let my clairvoyance amaze you too much" He quipped.
"Actually we're just checking in advance that our intended flight path is free of activity. We're transporting a civilian." Jake's unpreparedness didn't bother Ice one bit. He was used to it and remained cool and composed as ever. It was well known that Ice was the brains of the duo who kept Jake grounded and generally out of trouble. Jake's abilities shone in the heat of the moment. He was remarkably adept under even the most intense pressure and preferred to fly by the seat of his pants rather then carry out a well thought out plan. Jake felt plans were too limiting. If your enemies had intercepted a radio transmission and knew your plans, carrying them out would lead to certain doom. Jake felt his survival chances were greatly increased by being unpredictable.
"Transport! A civilian! Jesus fucking Christ they send the best pilots on the whole goddamn ship to be fucking delivery boys!?"
"Well you're not going to appreciate this, but I understand the Commander's reasoning."
"Autopilot Engaged" The ship piped up. Ice grabbed his drink, leaned back and put his feet back up on the console. *slluuurp*
Ice continued, "He thinks your ego is becoming a problem, and it's only reinforced by the unofficial headcount everyone has been keeping. Theres been reports of mission critical objectives being ignored because pilots were chasing kills. This kind of competition within our own forces could cause serious problems. For example, say Gaia was attacked and a pilot had a choice between destroying a missile frigate for a kill or intercepting and destroying the cluster of missles flying at Gaia. A bodycount just confuses the issue for pilots, especially the younger ones. Most of these pilots look up to you, and the Commander wants to make it clear that you're the best because you get the job done, not because of your body count. He doesn't think the younger pilots are making that distinction. Thus, we get stuck on a routine patrol and transport. From what I read of Chopsticks' briefing, he'll be on top of the body count by the time we get back to Gaia. We intercepted some radio transmissions containing Molin flight paths. He's going to be intercepting small vulnerable transport convoy's with very meager escorts. Like shooting fish in a barrel really."
"That son of a bitch! Chopsticks has an even bigger ego problem then I do!"
"Indeed."
"True dat." *sluuuurp*
"Do you really have to slurp your drink like that?"
*slluurrrrrppppp*
"Fine....." Jake looked out the cockpit window, "Nothing." He looked down at the radar and gave it a little tap just to make sure it wasn't broken. Still nothing. "How are we supposed to keep up our head count with missions like this?"
"You're not. Forgetting the Commander's speech already?" *slluuuurp*
"I'm never taking us to Space Burger ever again, you got that?"
*sllluuurrrrppp*
"ARRHGHH! Look I know what the Commander said in his speech but he doesn't mean all that, that's just the official line."
"So you are in contention with the fact that wars are not won by killing soldiers?" *slurp*
"You're missing the point."
Suddenly the cockpit emitted a serene female voice "Waypoint reached." Ice sat up and took his feet off the console, replacing them with his drink. He began entering flight information to reach the next waypoint in their recon, interfacing with the small craft at a rather alarming and inhuman rate.
"You ever think about taking up ping pong?" Jake jested, constantly amazed that such a large creature could move at such a rate. "How many stops on our route anyway?"
"You didn't read the briefing did you?"
"Oh yea cause I'm going to get suuuch valuable information reading the stupid briefing. I bet I can sum it up.... fly around x y z, report or destroy any bogeys, report back to the mothership. Try not to let my clairvoyance amaze you too much" He quipped.
"Actually we're just checking in advance that our intended flight path is free of activity. We're transporting a civilian." Jake's unpreparedness didn't bother Ice one bit. He was used to it and remained cool and composed as ever. It was well known that Ice was the brains of the duo who kept Jake grounded and generally out of trouble. Jake's abilities shone in the heat of the moment. He was remarkably adept under even the most intense pressure and preferred to fly by the seat of his pants rather then carry out a well thought out plan. Jake felt plans were too limiting. If your enemies had intercepted a radio transmission and knew your plans, carrying them out would lead to certain doom. Jake felt his survival chances were greatly increased by being unpredictable.
"Transport! A civilian! Jesus fucking Christ they send the best pilots on the whole goddamn ship to be fucking delivery boys!?"
"Well you're not going to appreciate this, but I understand the Commander's reasoning."
"Autopilot Engaged" The ship piped up. Ice grabbed his drink, leaned back and put his feet back up on the console. *slluuurp*
Ice continued, "He thinks your ego is becoming a problem, and it's only reinforced by the unofficial headcount everyone has been keeping. Theres been reports of mission critical objectives being ignored because pilots were chasing kills. This kind of competition within our own forces could cause serious problems. For example, say Gaia was attacked and a pilot had a choice between destroying a missile frigate for a kill or intercepting and destroying the cluster of missles flying at Gaia. A bodycount just confuses the issue for pilots, especially the younger ones. Most of these pilots look up to you, and the Commander wants to make it clear that you're the best because you get the job done, not because of your body count. He doesn't think the younger pilots are making that distinction. Thus, we get stuck on a routine patrol and transport. From what I read of Chopsticks' briefing, he'll be on top of the body count by the time we get back to Gaia. We intercepted some radio transmissions containing Molin flight paths. He's going to be intercepting small vulnerable transport convoy's with very meager escorts. Like shooting fish in a barrel really."
"That son of a bitch! Chopsticks has an even bigger ego problem then I do!"
"Indeed."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)