Prologue: Voyage's End
"Attention all hands. Attention all hands, this is your Captain...
"Attention all hands. Attention all hands, this is your Captain...
Voyage Of The Graveyard Host (RTS Commander SI/Megacrossover)
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Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Prologue: Voyage's End
"Attention all hands. Attention all hands, this is your Captain speaking." The voice crackling over the radio and echoing through the gore-coated hallways of the ship was a familiar one to those still fighting inside the ship and outside on the scarred and cratered surface of the ruined, airless planet, the speaker looking out the shattered windows of the combat bridge clad in a Vac-Suit while a large pistol hung at their side.
"It's been a hell of a ride." An explosion silently sent up a plume of dust in the distance as the speaker continued, "But every ride has to stop somewhere, and this is it for us. The engines are shot to hell and the Slipgate Drive is inoperable, there is no atmospheric sealing or oxygen beyond the generators you all have at the strong points, and the superstructure is a ruin. The ship is not going anywhere, and that explosion in the distance just marked the end of Lieutenant Kinsano's and Sergeant Forge's operations, which means the enemy is not going anywhere."
Along the side of the ship, guns rose from their berths, turned and fired. In the void there was only the friction from dust turning to vapor and plasma to show the passage of near-lightspeed slugs that struck the distant mountains, and the legions in the distance reinforcing the hordes already being gunned down at the defensive line.
A line of miniature suns burst into life, tearing up the mountains before the guns shifted downwards and fired on the hordes below, slugs tearing open glowing craters as black-armored bodies were tossed into space by the force of the explosions and the weak gravity. And still they came; despite the gunfire and plasma raining down the hill towards them, despite the grenades and rockets peppering their ranks with explosions that sprayed gelatinous gore and pieces of machinery into the void, and despite the flames and microwave weapons cooking them in their armor, still the hordes ground their way forward through the killing fields.
"The evacuation is complete. Whatever happens, we won, and billions have escaped. All that happens now is us making sure the enemy bleeds for nothing, and they are bleeding for nothing. The last transmission from the transhuman and Jovian strike teams confirmed mission success; the scopes have confirmed that the gateways have been destroyed, and there are no further reinforcements coming for either us or the enemy."
Explosions rocked the crashed ship, bolts of plasma launched from artillery units slamming against the hull seconds before a breach struck a magazine. The ship lurched to the side, the bridge tilting sharply as the person standing on the deck engaged the magnets in their boots, still talking calmly as more explosions rocked the ship, "We are going to die here, make no mistake, having since long cast away any chance to save ourselves. The AIs are gone, the machine are scrap, and even now we are running out of ammunition and bodies."
Explosions flashed across the trenches, black-armored forms forcing their way into the trenches, and slowly the flashing lights of gunfire began to die out but the speaker continued their speech, "And yet we will die laughing, because the architect of our suffering is now and forever trapped here, unable to be freed, unable to be rescued, cast adrift in a place where time and space are long dead and vanished. We have already won, and that is what drives their rage and our final fight. Smile, laugh, and die, you deserve your rest."
They were inside, and the last defenders were being overrun, "It has...Yes, it has been an honor..."
The last friendly indicators on the holomap vanished, the hostiles were no moving to the combat bridge as the speaker finished, "Goodbye my friends and comrades, I know you are in a better place now."
Heavy impacts shook the sealed door to the combat bridge, and the speaker turned to watch a blinding-bright spot begin to burn through the thick blast doors, slowly tracing upwards while they undid the safety on the large pistol at their side, unholstering it and lifting the weapon to aim at the door.
In the airless void, three silent muzzle flashes caused three white, perfectly spherical dots to appear on the door, and the bright dot suddenly cut out for several seconds, and then the cutting resumed.
Each time it resumed, the person in the Vacsuit fired three shots and stopped the cutting, slowing the inevitable as the shooter wondered how many bodies were piling up and made a note of the longer pauses being the corpses likely being dragged away and the process starting all over again, and still the person on the bridge continued firing, the gun silently flashing as the cutting continued to slowly worm its way along the edges of the door as the shooter continued firing the pistol.
The game finally ended as the doors blew inwards, hulking alien monstrosities of various species and forms striding inside as the person in the Vacsuit simply stopped firing and holstered their pistol, watching as the aliens formed an honor guard for their leader to enter the room clad in their own Vacsuit, a clear visor revealing the leader of the hordes...to be a human.
Said human, a young man with dark hair and sharp, angry eyes, glared at their only other human in the ruined bridge, their Vacsuit's visor showing nothing of their gender or features.
It was like staring at the same void outside the windows as they spoke to that angry young man, "Congratulations, you've made it all this way, you've killed everyone and the leader of the enemy faction is at your mercy." They chuckled, "So why doesn't it feel like a victory?" They continued, uncaring of the lack of response, "Is it because that all those you...hehe...'rescued' rose up in rebellion and escaped your grasp? Is it because your trap was turned on you, trapping you and robbing you of escape and reinforcements?" They turned to look out at the void, "Is it because there are no more supplies? No more water? No more oxygen? Enjoying the last scraps of air, water and food your suit contains? I know I did."
They turned back to the young man, their voice light and laughing, "Why are you not satisfied when you've sacrificed so much and campaigned so hard to destroy me, the one who betrayed you, or so you've long since convinced yourself of what I did to you. Really, it's pathetic in a way, bad comedy in its most ironic form."
They paused, before chuckling again, "I know why it's not a victory. It's because I'm not on my knees begging for mercy. It's because I'm not pleading for my life, begging you to let me and my allies live. It's because-" They span around, drawing the pistol and stumbled backwards as super-heated needles punched through the light armor of their suit, blood splattering the inside of their visor.
"Heheheheheheeee..." A long, harsh wheeze preceded the mortally wounded leader's fall to their knees, "And yet, I stand higher than you." With a soft sigh, they gently dropped to the deck, dead.
The young man snarled as they stared down at the body, before turning and stalking off, the aliens following after him.
And so, the Captain of the ship named Graveyard Host died in the same place he had once awoken, and with it the voyages of the Graveyard Host finally came to a close on the same place their voyages started; an airless rock floating in the middle of nothingness. None who had served aboard the vessel survived the apocalyptic battle that had saved billions of abducted souls, many of whom knew nothing about the story of the ship and the strange, eclectic crew that had gathered on it.
The one who did would do her best to tell the story, but in time even her efforts faded and were forgotten, and for a time there was no-one to tell the story.
Until one day, that planet floating in the void, the scarred graveyard that was the genesis and ending of a single journey, drifted into another universe and into the path of a scavenger fleet. As the technology scattered across the planet was looted and the ruined hulk breached, the corpse of the Captain was found on the bridge and while the scavengers eagerly looted any remains they found, they recognized the body as a person of authority and by their own space-faring traditions buried the body in the silent, ashen sands of that ruined world.
The only thing they looted from the body, the only item of any apparent value, was a neural implant containing massive stores of information, including personal recordings taken from the viewpoint of the Captain.
And so, in accordance with their traditions, they began to broadcast the life of this dead Captain to their civilian caste and any who would receive the open broadcast.
And any who began watching the broadcasts on their ships were witness to perhaps the only complete tale of the ship once known as the Graveyard Host and it's long journeys.
"It's been a hell of a ride." An explosion silently sent up a plume of dust in the distance as the speaker continued, "But every ride has to stop somewhere, and this is it for us. The engines are shot to hell and the Slipgate Drive is inoperable, there is no atmospheric sealing or oxygen beyond the generators you all have at the strong points, and the superstructure is a ruin. The ship is not going anywhere, and that explosion in the distance just marked the end of Lieutenant Kinsano's and Sergeant Forge's operations, which means the enemy is not going anywhere."
Along the side of the ship, guns rose from their berths, turned and fired. In the void there was only the friction from dust turning to vapor and plasma to show the passage of near-lightspeed slugs that struck the distant mountains, and the legions in the distance reinforcing the hordes already being gunned down at the defensive line.
A line of miniature suns burst into life, tearing up the mountains before the guns shifted downwards and fired on the hordes below, slugs tearing open glowing craters as black-armored bodies were tossed into space by the force of the explosions and the weak gravity. And still they came; despite the gunfire and plasma raining down the hill towards them, despite the grenades and rockets peppering their ranks with explosions that sprayed gelatinous gore and pieces of machinery into the void, and despite the flames and microwave weapons cooking them in their armor, still the hordes ground their way forward through the killing fields.
"The evacuation is complete. Whatever happens, we won, and billions have escaped. All that happens now is us making sure the enemy bleeds for nothing, and they are bleeding for nothing. The last transmission from the transhuman and Jovian strike teams confirmed mission success; the scopes have confirmed that the gateways have been destroyed, and there are no further reinforcements coming for either us or the enemy."
Explosions rocked the crashed ship, bolts of plasma launched from artillery units slamming against the hull seconds before a breach struck a magazine. The ship lurched to the side, the bridge tilting sharply as the person standing on the deck engaged the magnets in their boots, still talking calmly as more explosions rocked the ship, "We are going to die here, make no mistake, having since long cast away any chance to save ourselves. The AIs are gone, the machine are scrap, and even now we are running out of ammunition and bodies."
Explosions flashed across the trenches, black-armored forms forcing their way into the trenches, and slowly the flashing lights of gunfire began to die out but the speaker continued their speech, "And yet we will die laughing, because the architect of our suffering is now and forever trapped here, unable to be freed, unable to be rescued, cast adrift in a place where time and space are long dead and vanished. We have already won, and that is what drives their rage and our final fight. Smile, laugh, and die, you deserve your rest."
They were inside, and the last defenders were being overrun, "It has...Yes, it has been an honor..."
The last friendly indicators on the holomap vanished, the hostiles were no moving to the combat bridge as the speaker finished, "Goodbye my friends and comrades, I know you are in a better place now."
Heavy impacts shook the sealed door to the combat bridge, and the speaker turned to watch a blinding-bright spot begin to burn through the thick blast doors, slowly tracing upwards while they undid the safety on the large pistol at their side, unholstering it and lifting the weapon to aim at the door.
In the airless void, three silent muzzle flashes caused three white, perfectly spherical dots to appear on the door, and the bright dot suddenly cut out for several seconds, and then the cutting resumed.
Each time it resumed, the person in the Vacsuit fired three shots and stopped the cutting, slowing the inevitable as the shooter wondered how many bodies were piling up and made a note of the longer pauses being the corpses likely being dragged away and the process starting all over again, and still the person on the bridge continued firing, the gun silently flashing as the cutting continued to slowly worm its way along the edges of the door as the shooter continued firing the pistol.
The game finally ended as the doors blew inwards, hulking alien monstrosities of various species and forms striding inside as the person in the Vacsuit simply stopped firing and holstered their pistol, watching as the aliens formed an honor guard for their leader to enter the room clad in their own Vacsuit, a clear visor revealing the leader of the hordes...to be a human.
Said human, a young man with dark hair and sharp, angry eyes, glared at their only other human in the ruined bridge, their Vacsuit's visor showing nothing of their gender or features.
It was like staring at the same void outside the windows as they spoke to that angry young man, "Congratulations, you've made it all this way, you've killed everyone and the leader of the enemy faction is at your mercy." They chuckled, "So why doesn't it feel like a victory?" They continued, uncaring of the lack of response, "Is it because that all those you...hehe...'rescued' rose up in rebellion and escaped your grasp? Is it because your trap was turned on you, trapping you and robbing you of escape and reinforcements?" They turned to look out at the void, "Is it because there are no more supplies? No more water? No more oxygen? Enjoying the last scraps of air, water and food your suit contains? I know I did."
They turned back to the young man, their voice light and laughing, "Why are you not satisfied when you've sacrificed so much and campaigned so hard to destroy me, the one who betrayed you, or so you've long since convinced yourself of what I did to you. Really, it's pathetic in a way, bad comedy in its most ironic form."
They paused, before chuckling again, "I know why it's not a victory. It's because I'm not on my knees begging for mercy. It's because I'm not pleading for my life, begging you to let me and my allies live. It's because-" They span around, drawing the pistol and stumbled backwards as super-heated needles punched through the light armor of their suit, blood splattering the inside of their visor.
"Heheheheheheeee..." A long, harsh wheeze preceded the mortally wounded leader's fall to their knees, "And yet, I stand higher than you." With a soft sigh, they gently dropped to the deck, dead.
The young man snarled as they stared down at the body, before turning and stalking off, the aliens following after him.
And so, the Captain of the ship named Graveyard Host died in the same place he had once awoken, and with it the voyages of the Graveyard Host finally came to a close on the same place their voyages started; an airless rock floating in the middle of nothingness. None who had served aboard the vessel survived the apocalyptic battle that had saved billions of abducted souls, many of whom knew nothing about the story of the ship and the strange, eclectic crew that had gathered on it.
The one who did would do her best to tell the story, but in time even her efforts faded and were forgotten, and for a time there was no-one to tell the story.
Until one day, that planet floating in the void, the scarred graveyard that was the genesis and ending of a single journey, drifted into another universe and into the path of a scavenger fleet. As the technology scattered across the planet was looted and the ruined hulk breached, the corpse of the Captain was found on the bridge and while the scavengers eagerly looted any remains they found, they recognized the body as a person of authority and by their own space-faring traditions buried the body in the silent, ashen sands of that ruined world.
The only thing they looted from the body, the only item of any apparent value, was a neural implant containing massive stores of information, including personal recordings taken from the viewpoint of the Captain.
And so, in accordance with their traditions, they began to broadcast the life of this dead Captain to their civilian caste and any who would receive the open broadcast.
And any who began watching the broadcasts on their ships were witness to perhaps the only complete tale of the ship once known as the Graveyard Host and it's long journeys.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
- Location
- British Columbia, Canada, Mars
Everyone dies eventually, may as well start at the end. Looks Interesting enough for me.
Chapter 1: Alas, Poor Gideon
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
Chapter 1: Alas, Poor Gideon
*Beeeep.*
*Beeeep.*
*Beeeep.*
"Urgh." With a grunt and a snort, Gideon woke up, blinking up at the ceiling blearily as his vision cleared, before slowly turning his head to look around at the room, "Well...This seems a little cliche." His gaze took in the dark consoles, the dim lights and the large windows although he couldn't see what was outside beyond blackness from where he was lying down, prompting Gideon to push himself to a seated position, groaning as he felt a few cracks and pops, "Geez, aren't alien abductions supposed to involve putting the victim back in their bed?"
Now that he was on his feet, Gideon took a look out the windows to see a barren, ash-colored wasteland strewn with craters and long scars from what might have been meteor impacts but looking out at the void, Gideon frowned as he noticed an important detail, "Where is the light coming from?"
The planet was bathed in light but no matter how hard he looked, Gideon couldn't spot anything that looked like a star, or even just a very large light-generating facility. It was as if there was a sun overhead, but all that could be seen was a starless, featureless, black void that should have sucked away any and all light, not allow it to reach...where-ever this world was floating.
"Okay, first things first. Power." Gideon turned his attention back to the computers, "Hopefully there's a way for me to restore power and find out what the hell is going on here." Noticing a glowing icon on the large table at the center of the room, Gideon walked over and inspected it, "Activate systems...hmm." He looked around at the other dark screens and shrugged, "Only option I have."
He reached out and gingerly tapped his finger against the touchscreen covering the table, and the icon vanished to leave Gideon in the silent, dimly-lit room, "Okay, so either this works and power is restored, or I just got fooled into blowing myself up." He looked around, the silence stretching onwards as he stared out the windows again at the scarred, empty wastelands in front of him, "Just where the hell am I?"
Gideon quietly rubbed his forehead, "Think...what the hell happened to me?" Pacing around the table slowly, Gideon tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Let's see, I was playing Doom, then watching a Let's Play, followed by doing some browsing for a new game, and then..." He paused, "I went out for a walk...but then I blacked out just outside the house..."
He stopped, "Okay, so I blacked out in front of my house as I was going for a walk. So either I was abducted by aliens, suddenly dropped dead, or a rift opened up and dumped me on the bridge of some kind of starship." Sighing, Gideon shrugged, "Should I say I got ROB'd or maybe an Alien Space Bat decided to relieve some boredom? God help me if it's a Bet because I'd rather not follow in the steps of Skysaber." He shuddered.
"Right, let's move away from that line of thinking before I sicken myself." Gideon muttered to himself before the lights flickered and then brightened, "Oh! Well that's good, let there be light as was said so long ago." Almost in sequence, consoles flickered to life displaying various swathes of information before the large table at the center of the room flared to life and began displaying an image of where he was.
"The fuck?"
Floating in faintly-glowing blue was a ship, a very large ship if the information being displayed was correct, and Gideon stared at it in open disbelief, "This is a Phoenix-Class Support Ship, if someone got drunk and decided to make it bigger."
He walked around the table, inspecting the image with a frown, "Doesn't make sense. It's 7500 meters long, 920 wide, with an extra three primary Magnetic Accelerator Cannons and a lot more of the deck guns and missile launchers." Gideon snapped his fingers as the realization came to him.
"A retard built this ship."
Nodding to himself, Gideon smiled, "Only explanation. I've been dumped on a ship that some fanboy retard, who pairs the Master Chief with some kinda anime character, would build after playing a hacked copy of Halo Wars." He pointed at the image of the ship despite no-one being in the room with him, "Because this thing should not exist! I haven't played Halo since Halo 3, and even I've seen stats on the Eternity, and this ship must be at least a good kilometer longer!"
Coughing to himself, Gideon inhaled and then sighed in exasperation, "Man, anyone on the forums who could build a ship would probably be laughing at this thing right now. But anyway, power's back on, so let's see what I have to work with on this ship clearly made for some Mary-Sue who wants to make friends with the Gravemind."
Stepping closer, Gideon began fiddling with the table's controls, "Okay, so if I do this..." The image zoomed in towards where the engines and reactors were situated as a pop-up flashed into existence, blinking a harsh yellow.
*Beeeep.*
*Beeeep.*
"Urgh." With a grunt and a snort, Gideon woke up, blinking up at the ceiling blearily as his vision cleared, before slowly turning his head to look around at the room, "Well...This seems a little cliche." His gaze took in the dark consoles, the dim lights and the large windows although he couldn't see what was outside beyond blackness from where he was lying down, prompting Gideon to push himself to a seated position, groaning as he felt a few cracks and pops, "Geez, aren't alien abductions supposed to involve putting the victim back in their bed?"
Now that he was on his feet, Gideon took a look out the windows to see a barren, ash-colored wasteland strewn with craters and long scars from what might have been meteor impacts but looking out at the void, Gideon frowned as he noticed an important detail, "Where is the light coming from?"
The planet was bathed in light but no matter how hard he looked, Gideon couldn't spot anything that looked like a star, or even just a very large light-generating facility. It was as if there was a sun overhead, but all that could be seen was a starless, featureless, black void that should have sucked away any and all light, not allow it to reach...where-ever this world was floating.
"Okay, first things first. Power." Gideon turned his attention back to the computers, "Hopefully there's a way for me to restore power and find out what the hell is going on here." Noticing a glowing icon on the large table at the center of the room, Gideon walked over and inspected it, "Activate systems...hmm." He looked around at the other dark screens and shrugged, "Only option I have."
He reached out and gingerly tapped his finger against the touchscreen covering the table, and the icon vanished to leave Gideon in the silent, dimly-lit room, "Okay, so either this works and power is restored, or I just got fooled into blowing myself up." He looked around, the silence stretching onwards as he stared out the windows again at the scarred, empty wastelands in front of him, "Just where the hell am I?"
Gideon quietly rubbed his forehead, "Think...what the hell happened to me?" Pacing around the table slowly, Gideon tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Let's see, I was playing Doom, then watching a Let's Play, followed by doing some browsing for a new game, and then..." He paused, "I went out for a walk...but then I blacked out just outside the house..."
He stopped, "Okay, so I blacked out in front of my house as I was going for a walk. So either I was abducted by aliens, suddenly dropped dead, or a rift opened up and dumped me on the bridge of some kind of starship." Sighing, Gideon shrugged, "Should I say I got ROB'd or maybe an Alien Space Bat decided to relieve some boredom? God help me if it's a Bet because I'd rather not follow in the steps of Skysaber." He shuddered.
"Right, let's move away from that line of thinking before I sicken myself." Gideon muttered to himself before the lights flickered and then brightened, "Oh! Well that's good, let there be light as was said so long ago." Almost in sequence, consoles flickered to life displaying various swathes of information before the large table at the center of the room flared to life and began displaying an image of where he was.
"The fuck?"
Floating in faintly-glowing blue was a ship, a very large ship if the information being displayed was correct, and Gideon stared at it in open disbelief, "This is a Phoenix-Class Support Ship, if someone got drunk and decided to make it bigger."
He walked around the table, inspecting the image with a frown, "Doesn't make sense. It's 7500 meters long, 920 wide, with an extra three primary Magnetic Accelerator Cannons and a lot more of the deck guns and missile launchers." Gideon snapped his fingers as the realization came to him.
"A retard built this ship."
Nodding to himself, Gideon smiled, "Only explanation. I've been dumped on a ship that some fanboy retard, who pairs the Master Chief with some kinda anime character, would build after playing a hacked copy of Halo Wars." He pointed at the image of the ship despite no-one being in the room with him, "Because this thing should not exist! I haven't played Halo since Halo 3, and even I've seen stats on the Eternity, and this ship must be at least a good kilometer longer!"
Coughing to himself, Gideon inhaled and then sighed in exasperation, "Man, anyone on the forums who could build a ship would probably be laughing at this thing right now. But anyway, power's back on, so let's see what I have to work with on this ship clearly made for some Mary-Sue who wants to make friends with the Gravemind."
Stepping closer, Gideon began fiddling with the table's controls, "Okay, so if I do this..." The image zoomed in towards where the engines and reactors were situated as a pop-up flashed into existence, blinking a harsh yellow.
Reactor Stress Warning! Reactors approaching maximum stress tolerance!
"Shit, that ain't good." Gideon muttered to himself as he brought up a report and winced at seeing the morass of technical jargon, "And this would be informative if I was some kind of engineer trained on this shit." He scratched his head and hummed thoughtfully, "But if I read this right, if the reactors are brought to 100-percent, they could potentially lose containment and detonate. Great, so now I'm on a ship that wouldn't exist in the UNSC inventory, but is also basically a lame horse."
He plopped down into a seat and leaned backwards, "Great, and I still have no idea how to make this ship move, or if there's anyone else in this oversized tub." Looking at the door, Gideon shrugged, "Fuck it, might as well see if I can find a mess hall and see if there's anything to cook, I'm starving."
Passing by the table and opening the door, Gideon missed the other pop-up that blinked into existence as the doors closed behind him.
He plopped down into a seat and leaned backwards, "Great, and I still have no idea how to make this ship move, or if there's anyone else in this oversized tub." Looking at the door, Gideon shrugged, "Fuck it, might as well see if I can find a mess hall and see if there's anything to cook, I'm starving."
Passing by the table and opening the door, Gideon missed the other pop-up that blinked into existence as the doors closed behind him.
Command Neural Lace Detected. Welcome Aboard, Captain.
Last edited:
Ha! Take that guys-who-only-make-ships-bigger-in-AUs-like-that-automatically-makes-it-better.
Sadly, it took me years to reach Gideon's conclusion in similar situations.
Chapter 2: Cooking With Gas?
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
"How the fuck is anyone supposed to navigate this place!" Gideon screamed as he stared at one of the many maps in the ship's corridors, "For fuck's sake, I've already gone past the tram station, I'm at the right place, so where the fuck are the fucking kitchens in this retarded tub?" He looked around at the wide corridors, inspecting the doors, before walking over to one and opening it to reveal an eating hall that wouldn't look out of place in any American-based, cliched production.
But there was a problem. Where there should have been the serving stations and maybe a kitchen? Just a set of dispensers and screens that displayed cheerful cartoon characters and a full menu. Food, drinks, desserts, snacks, even a few types of beer and spirits, but nothing like a kitchen. So Gideon went for a walk and started exploring the ship to locate the other mess halls on the ship, before intending to find the officer's dining hall to see if there was a kitchen there (it made sense since there was whole trope about officer's getting the better meals) before he gave up.
Right now he was strongly considering giving up as he stared at the rows of screens and dispensers cheerfully advertising things like various beef and fish dishes along with soft-serve icecream sundaes before Gideon sighed and sat down on a bench, leaning back as he considered what he had learned about the ship so far.
The ship had an internal tram-system running through the length of it, as well as large thoroughfares for accomodating vehicles and large groups of personnel, which was smart when you considered the time that it would take to walk the better part of seven kilometers, and that wasn't including going up or down to other decks.
But no kitchens. Not even the officer dining hall had a kitchen, just a dressed-up version of the same dispensers with larger ports.
"What the fuck is this? Did some ROB decide to dump me in my own personal Universiad?" Gideon muttered to himself, "No kitchens, only dispensers, but if there's dispensers offering hot food, then obviously there should be some sort of kitchen or food storage in here, right? Even an automated kitchen is still a kitchen and-" He shook his head, "No, no, just stop. You want food, there's food available. Just order something and have a meal, you can figure out what the hell is going on later."
He stood back up and walked over to one of the dispensers, "Lets see, what's on the menus for this place?" He started scrolling down the options on one of the screens, "Hmm, do I want to go with the Chicken or the Beef? Maybe fish?" As he scrolled, Gideon took note of various cooking styles running from French to-
Gideon paused as he looked at an option marked 'Tau Ceti Fusion BBQ' and cocked his head, "Oddly specific. I hope that's a mix of styles and not actually using a fusion engine to cook the food." He scrolled back up to the Asian option and chose a random noodle dish, "Probably go with a safer option I think, before I try experimenting with Tau Ceti Fusion BBQ or Martian Slow-Cooking...what the hell is so special about Martian cooking?"
Ordering a Coke and a chocolate sundae along with some Curry Puffs, Gideon began checking his pockets, fishing out his wallet ("Empty, fuck"), his house keys ("Yeah, gonna be real useful."), and then his mobile phone, "Jackpot." He quickly turned it on, watching as the little ISP cartoon character did the startup animation and the main menu appeared, "Check my messages, calls, hell even my photos, there has to be something on here."
He brought up his messages, humming as he saw that there was nothing out of the ordinary. There was even the security code from yesterday, 643512, which brought up a sensation that the number was important so Gideon decided not to delete the message. Still, it was the usual chain of spam, family messages and job interview reminders.
Switching to his call logs, Gideon frowned, "Empty?" Sure enough, there were no recorded calls or even missed calls, the entire record was empty. A quick check showed that his contact list was intact, but with the clear indicator at the top of the screen that there was no signal, Gideon refrained from trying to call someone.
Glancing over at the dispenser which was displaying a 'Please Wait' sign, Gideon flicked to his pictures folder.
And stared.
"What the fuck?"
Scrolling through the album, instead of the casual pictures he had taken, Gideon instead found photo after photo of disturbing, unearthly images, glimpse of what looked like his face, screaming, nightmarish images of cyclopean hellscapes, and what looked like a broken, shattered landscape with a shining crystal city in the center of a chasm leading into a screaming void.
"Huh, I somehow got a good angle on that one," Gideon muttered as the dispenser let off a cheerful *ding* before a door opened and out slid his noodle soup, a plate of curry puffs, his drink and sundae, "Ooh, food's done!"
Turning off the screen of his phone, Gideon decided to focus on having his first proper meal since waking up...Gideon looked around the ship, "Huh, I didn't see a name for this oversized, clearly fanon, tub. Better look around for some kind of nameplate on the bridge, that's usually where it gets placed." Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Gideon decided to focus on eating his food, picking up the metal fork and taking in a mouthful of noodles.
Slurping the mouthful down, Gideon looked down at the bowl, "Woah." He quickly slurped down another mouthful, "Oh wow, now I definitely have to find the kitchens. Is this what they mean by silky smooth?" He quickly popped a prawn in his mouth, "Ooh, that is one good prawn." He chewed thoughtfully, humming to himself, "Not rubbery at all, this is actually perfectly cooked."
As he ate, Gideon began thinking over everything that he had seen in the photos folder on his phone, working his mind over the nightmarish images and various blasted hellscapes and ruins floating in a burning void for eternity before swallowing, "Did I die? Like, did I die and go to Hell? Was I being tortured in Hell until I woke up here? Is this still Hell?"
A feeling like ice mixed with needles and sandpaper ran up Gideon's spine as the existential dread hit him, and he looked around for the big reveal, the demons pulling away the curtain to reveal the eternity of damnation...
Nothing. The food was getting cold (or melted in the case of the sundae), the lights buzzed in gentle monotone, and nothing was happening.
Gideon cut off any potential thoughts of eating slowly and began wolfing down his food anyway. He only slowed down when he reached the sundae and drink, finishing off the drink and with a brief moment to remove the sundae from the tray, took the entire collection to a disposal port he had noticed while inspecting the dispensers.
"Just open," He opened the hatch, "And dump." With a negligent toss, the entire tray with assorted detritus vanished into a black void, one that Gideon studiously did not stare at to ensure that he didn't start thinking uncomfortable and spiritually-frightening thoughts, "Please God, have mercy on me."
Picking up the sundae and exiting into the corridors, Gideon started walking back to the bridge to see if there was anything he missed. As he walked down the corridors to the elevator that would take him to the bridge, Gideon started getting a strange feeling.
He glanced backwards, saw nothing, and after a brief pause kept walking. But every time Gideon felt safe enough to relax, the sensation of other people being near him returned and he started looking around for any signs that there were people on board the ship other than him. Finally, Gideon all but dove into the elevator and headed to the bridge.
"Must be losing my fucking mind. What the hell is going on here? I thought cabin fever took a couple of weeks to set in! Wait..." Gideon scratched his cheek, "How the fuck can I tell time in this place when there's no day or night cycle?"
He shook his head, "Forget it! Just go back to the bridge, start searching the computers and find out what the hell is going on here!" He strode out of the elevator, walking towards the bridge, "And maybe start up the engines, get off this rock and-" The door opened and there was the sound of boots stomping the deck.
"Captain on deck!"
Gideon reacted to the sudden shout like any normal, rational person who thought he was utterly alone on a creepy, deserted spaceship.
He screamed and fainted.
But there was a problem. Where there should have been the serving stations and maybe a kitchen? Just a set of dispensers and screens that displayed cheerful cartoon characters and a full menu. Food, drinks, desserts, snacks, even a few types of beer and spirits, but nothing like a kitchen. So Gideon went for a walk and started exploring the ship to locate the other mess halls on the ship, before intending to find the officer's dining hall to see if there was a kitchen there (it made sense since there was whole trope about officer's getting the better meals) before he gave up.
Right now he was strongly considering giving up as he stared at the rows of screens and dispensers cheerfully advertising things like various beef and fish dishes along with soft-serve icecream sundaes before Gideon sighed and sat down on a bench, leaning back as he considered what he had learned about the ship so far.
The ship had an internal tram-system running through the length of it, as well as large thoroughfares for accomodating vehicles and large groups of personnel, which was smart when you considered the time that it would take to walk the better part of seven kilometers, and that wasn't including going up or down to other decks.
But no kitchens. Not even the officer dining hall had a kitchen, just a dressed-up version of the same dispensers with larger ports.
"What the fuck is this? Did some ROB decide to dump me in my own personal Universiad?" Gideon muttered to himself, "No kitchens, only dispensers, but if there's dispensers offering hot food, then obviously there should be some sort of kitchen or food storage in here, right? Even an automated kitchen is still a kitchen and-" He shook his head, "No, no, just stop. You want food, there's food available. Just order something and have a meal, you can figure out what the hell is going on later."
He stood back up and walked over to one of the dispensers, "Lets see, what's on the menus for this place?" He started scrolling down the options on one of the screens, "Hmm, do I want to go with the Chicken or the Beef? Maybe fish?" As he scrolled, Gideon took note of various cooking styles running from French to-
Gideon paused as he looked at an option marked 'Tau Ceti Fusion BBQ' and cocked his head, "Oddly specific. I hope that's a mix of styles and not actually using a fusion engine to cook the food." He scrolled back up to the Asian option and chose a random noodle dish, "Probably go with a safer option I think, before I try experimenting with Tau Ceti Fusion BBQ or Martian Slow-Cooking...what the hell is so special about Martian cooking?"
Ordering a Coke and a chocolate sundae along with some Curry Puffs, Gideon began checking his pockets, fishing out his wallet ("Empty, fuck"), his house keys ("Yeah, gonna be real useful."), and then his mobile phone, "Jackpot." He quickly turned it on, watching as the little ISP cartoon character did the startup animation and the main menu appeared, "Check my messages, calls, hell even my photos, there has to be something on here."
He brought up his messages, humming as he saw that there was nothing out of the ordinary. There was even the security code from yesterday, 643512, which brought up a sensation that the number was important so Gideon decided not to delete the message. Still, it was the usual chain of spam, family messages and job interview reminders.
Switching to his call logs, Gideon frowned, "Empty?" Sure enough, there were no recorded calls or even missed calls, the entire record was empty. A quick check showed that his contact list was intact, but with the clear indicator at the top of the screen that there was no signal, Gideon refrained from trying to call someone.
Glancing over at the dispenser which was displaying a 'Please Wait' sign, Gideon flicked to his pictures folder.
And stared.
"What the fuck?"
Scrolling through the album, instead of the casual pictures he had taken, Gideon instead found photo after photo of disturbing, unearthly images, glimpse of what looked like his face, screaming, nightmarish images of cyclopean hellscapes, and what looked like a broken, shattered landscape with a shining crystal city in the center of a chasm leading into a screaming void.
"Huh, I somehow got a good angle on that one," Gideon muttered as the dispenser let off a cheerful *ding* before a door opened and out slid his noodle soup, a plate of curry puffs, his drink and sundae, "Ooh, food's done!"
Turning off the screen of his phone, Gideon decided to focus on having his first proper meal since waking up...Gideon looked around the ship, "Huh, I didn't see a name for this oversized, clearly fanon, tub. Better look around for some kind of nameplate on the bridge, that's usually where it gets placed." Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Gideon decided to focus on eating his food, picking up the metal fork and taking in a mouthful of noodles.
Slurping the mouthful down, Gideon looked down at the bowl, "Woah." He quickly slurped down another mouthful, "Oh wow, now I definitely have to find the kitchens. Is this what they mean by silky smooth?" He quickly popped a prawn in his mouth, "Ooh, that is one good prawn." He chewed thoughtfully, humming to himself, "Not rubbery at all, this is actually perfectly cooked."
As he ate, Gideon began thinking over everything that he had seen in the photos folder on his phone, working his mind over the nightmarish images and various blasted hellscapes and ruins floating in a burning void for eternity before swallowing, "Did I die? Like, did I die and go to Hell? Was I being tortured in Hell until I woke up here? Is this still Hell?"
A feeling like ice mixed with needles and sandpaper ran up Gideon's spine as the existential dread hit him, and he looked around for the big reveal, the demons pulling away the curtain to reveal the eternity of damnation...
Nothing. The food was getting cold (or melted in the case of the sundae), the lights buzzed in gentle monotone, and nothing was happening.
Gideon cut off any potential thoughts of eating slowly and began wolfing down his food anyway. He only slowed down when he reached the sundae and drink, finishing off the drink and with a brief moment to remove the sundae from the tray, took the entire collection to a disposal port he had noticed while inspecting the dispensers.
"Just open," He opened the hatch, "And dump." With a negligent toss, the entire tray with assorted detritus vanished into a black void, one that Gideon studiously did not stare at to ensure that he didn't start thinking uncomfortable and spiritually-frightening thoughts, "Please God, have mercy on me."
Picking up the sundae and exiting into the corridors, Gideon started walking back to the bridge to see if there was anything he missed. As he walked down the corridors to the elevator that would take him to the bridge, Gideon started getting a strange feeling.
He glanced backwards, saw nothing, and after a brief pause kept walking. But every time Gideon felt safe enough to relax, the sensation of other people being near him returned and he started looking around for any signs that there were people on board the ship other than him. Finally, Gideon all but dove into the elevator and headed to the bridge.
"Must be losing my fucking mind. What the hell is going on here? I thought cabin fever took a couple of weeks to set in! Wait..." Gideon scratched his cheek, "How the fuck can I tell time in this place when there's no day or night cycle?"
He shook his head, "Forget it! Just go back to the bridge, start searching the computers and find out what the hell is going on here!" He strode out of the elevator, walking towards the bridge, "And maybe start up the engines, get off this rock and-" The door opened and there was the sound of boots stomping the deck.
"Captain on deck!"
Gideon reacted to the sudden shout like any normal, rational person who thought he was utterly alone on a creepy, deserted spaceship.
He screamed and fainted.
Vaalintine
Wild Wondorous Wolfalope
So it oprns with a bad ending? Nit bad as in poor writing, but ending poorly for the protagonist. Or at least that's what it seems like, its not clear who is doing or saying what in the prologue, and its kinda a turn off if you know the main character is screwed in the end. Giving a tentative watch.
- Location
- USA
Not bad not bad. i am just happy there was no whining and this can't be happenings.
Ardion Prosili
An (im)Perfect Cell
re: story starts with a 'bad end': I don't see how this is a 'bad' ending though? Yeah the PoV character is dead and we're just going through the life and times of him after the fact but given the fact that he effectively beat some kind of umbral tyrannical delusional horror and saved billions of lives and got to spit in his supposed foe's face as he died, I wouldn't say its a bad end. Its tragic, sure, but there's a definite sense of catharsis, a sense that the tragedy that had/will occur over the course of the story will MEAN something takes it firmly out of being a 'bad' ending. Its an ending I feel is heroically tragic but positive overall.
Firmly watched. Let's see what you whip up Gideon! <3
Firmly watched. Let's see what you whip up Gideon! <3
This looks good. Main character dies but goes out like a boss.
Chapter 3: Get This Show On The Road.
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
"Captain. Captain, are you all right? Captain!"
Gideon jerked awake and looked around to find himself at the center of a group of masked, uniformed beings that had the general shape of men and women, if it wasn't for the fact that none of them were showing any skin; their faces were masked, hands were covered by gloves, and he couldn't see any eyes behind the lenses on the balaclava-like masks.
Very slowly, Gideon rose back to his feet, glaring with narrowed eyes at the new occupants of the ship's bridge as the one who had spoken before approached him, "It's an honor to meet you Cap-" Gideon's hand lashed out and yanked the balaclava off the man's(?) head.
And he stared in open horror at the void of nothingness that was revealed, the officer coughing politely and holding out his hand, "Captain? Could I have my face back please?" Gideon wordlessly handed over the balaclava, expression still locked in naked horror from what he had seen in that void, "Thank you Captain, now to resume my greeting, it's an honor to meet you, and I am pleased to inform you that the ship is ready for takeoff in order to finalize the necessary tests and repairs."
Gideon made a faint whimper that almost sounded like a question.
"The reactors? Yes, we can make temporary repairs, but we need a proper shipyard in order to have the materials and tools needed to fabricate replacement systems as well as repair the SlipGate Drive after we activate it to escape this place."
Another questioning whimper.
"This place, it's quite literally the end of all existence, Captain. Essentially, apart from this planet, this universe is eternal emptiness, nothing exists here except for us and this world."
A whimper of understanding.
"I'm glad you understand how dire this situation is, Captain. Oh, my apologies. I am your second in command, the XO of this ship, which you have the honor of naming. All troops and pilots are ready for operations, the fabricators are online with full stores, and we are fully stocked with supplies for additional passengers and crew."
Gideon didn't whimper this time, managing to close his mouth from his open gaping of horror. After a few minutes of silence, he slowly turned around, and walked out of the bridge.
The XO turned to the rest of the bridge officers, "All right I want this done by the numbers! This ship is going to be leaving this place on the first try, not get stuck here for all eternity, am I clear?"
"Aye Aye!"
A freshly-showered, shaved and combed Gideon stepped into the bridge to a simultaneous salute from the officers on the bridge, though it was difficult for Gideon to really tell what person covered which area of responsibility although the XO was easily picked out from the crowd as they approached, "Welcome back to the Bridge, Captain. We have a few important items to cover and some of it will require your direct input."
"Yeah?" Gideon leaned against the holo-table, "Well...Let's get this started then."
"Excellent." The holo-table lit up with a schematic of the ship, "The ship's reactors are back to functional status, but the entire ship is going to need a full refit and overhaul at a proper drydock otherwise it will start to lose containment or possibly go critical with extended use at full power."
"What's our current usage right now?" Gideon asked, looking at the fluctuating figures.
"About 22%, covering life support and critical systems. Deck guns and primary MAC array are offline and missile launcher projected combat performance has been degraded by 48% as well." An officer in a yellow uniform replied, "Engineering is working to try and squeeze out an extra 9% of safe performance from the reactors but that would only really improve the reloading and firing speed of the launch cells, or power maybe eight deck guns if we redirected all available non-critical power to them."
"So basically, we're a cripple." Gideon groused as the XO nodded, "Wonderful. Of course, this is all academic if we can't leave this place. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the aesthetics of ashen wastelands in eternal darkness as much as the next person, very cosmic horror, but I'd rather get some color back in my life."
The XO nodded, "The Slipgate Drive is operational, but in order to make full use of it while our reactors are in their current state, we'll need to shunt all power to the Slipgate Drive to ensure a smooth transition without annihilating us."
Gideon opened his mouth-
"Imagine having every atom in your body split, and then imagine said splitting atoms each being placed in their own individual hell where they get to experience it over and over and over." The XO replied.
Gideon shut his mouth with a click.
"I'm glad you understand the seriousness, Captain." The XO nodded, "Now, have you considered a name?"
"Since this is an edgy ship clearly designed by a retard who thought they were being edgy, I hereby name this flying kludgestorm the 'Graveyard Host'." Gideon replied immediately and the XO nodded.
"The name plaque will be installed tomorrow. Now," The XO turned to the others on the bridge, "Here are your bridge officers. Step forward and introduce yourselves."
One in a blue uniform with a female body-shape stepped forward, "Welcome aboard Captain, I am Tactical. I'll be responsible for analyzing enemy movements and relaying orders to the troops."
Another female stepped forward, "I am Intelligence. Apart from tactical and strategic analysis, I will also be highlighting objectives and potential targets to be engaged by our forces."
Two males stepped forward this time, "I am Engineering and this is Research. We'll be responsible for overseeing the manufacturing of supplies and studying anything recovered that may be used for our own purposes."
Gideon nodded, "Good to meet you all." He looked towards the XO, "So what happens now?"
"We need to engage the Slipgate Drive," The XO explained, the hologram shifting to highlight a complicated, perhaps eldritch array of machinery where the Slipspace Drive likely would have been in a proper UNSC vessel, "We can't stay here Captain, the longer this ship remains in orbit around the planet, the longer we risk dissolution."
"How long before we can jump?" Gideon asked, leaning against the holotable, studying the schematic and trying to understand what he was seeing, "Hours? Minutes? Days?"
"We can begin the jump in the next hour, but there is the risk of the reactors-" Gideon waved a hand and cut the XO off.
"You want to die here?"
The XO shook his head, "Not particularly, but if the reactors fail-"
"Shut up and spin them up." Gideon snapped, "I'm sick of staring at this wasteland. Either I'm in Hell or I'm going to Hell, and this is all just a sick trick anyway, or this works and we can go find resources to patch up or fabricate replacement reactors. Now fire up that drive."
"Aye Captain!" The XO replied, the bridge crew saluting in unison.
Gideon jerked awake and looked around to find himself at the center of a group of masked, uniformed beings that had the general shape of men and women, if it wasn't for the fact that none of them were showing any skin; their faces were masked, hands were covered by gloves, and he couldn't see any eyes behind the lenses on the balaclava-like masks.
Very slowly, Gideon rose back to his feet, glaring with narrowed eyes at the new occupants of the ship's bridge as the one who had spoken before approached him, "It's an honor to meet you Cap-" Gideon's hand lashed out and yanked the balaclava off the man's(?) head.
And he stared in open horror at the void of nothingness that was revealed, the officer coughing politely and holding out his hand, "Captain? Could I have my face back please?" Gideon wordlessly handed over the balaclava, expression still locked in naked horror from what he had seen in that void, "Thank you Captain, now to resume my greeting, it's an honor to meet you, and I am pleased to inform you that the ship is ready for takeoff in order to finalize the necessary tests and repairs."
Gideon made a faint whimper that almost sounded like a question.
"The reactors? Yes, we can make temporary repairs, but we need a proper shipyard in order to have the materials and tools needed to fabricate replacement systems as well as repair the SlipGate Drive after we activate it to escape this place."
Another questioning whimper.
"This place, it's quite literally the end of all existence, Captain. Essentially, apart from this planet, this universe is eternal emptiness, nothing exists here except for us and this world."
A whimper of understanding.
"I'm glad you understand how dire this situation is, Captain. Oh, my apologies. I am your second in command, the XO of this ship, which you have the honor of naming. All troops and pilots are ready for operations, the fabricators are online with full stores, and we are fully stocked with supplies for additional passengers and crew."
Gideon didn't whimper this time, managing to close his mouth from his open gaping of horror. After a few minutes of silence, he slowly turned around, and walked out of the bridge.
The XO turned to the rest of the bridge officers, "All right I want this done by the numbers! This ship is going to be leaving this place on the first try, not get stuck here for all eternity, am I clear?"
"Aye Aye!"
***
Entering the Captain's Cabin, Gideon quietly sat down on the bed, and after several minutes he sighed deeply before banging his head softly against the wall at the foot of the bed.
"Fuck." *thunk*
"Fuck." *thunk*
"Fuck." *thunk*
When he was done (and a quick check confirmed he had been at it for about an hour), Gideon realized that the ship was...different, as if it had shifted slightly in pitch. Standing up and walking over to a window, Gideon peered out into the airless, ashen wasteland below and blinked as he saw what looked like attitude-adjustment thrusts taking place, as teams of suited workers detached lines and moved massive containers into the ship.
"Wait, this ship actually takes supplies on board?" Gideon muttered as he watched the show, "What the hell...this ship takes supplies but I can't access them or the ammunition bunkers? What kind of bullshit is going on with this tub?"
He continued watching the work going on, taking note of the equipment being deployed on patrol around the ship, "Huh, that kinda looks like that Orbital Frame system that was used in that Halo movie collection, whatever it was named, Halo Myths? Whatever." Unlike what little he did remember, hazily at that, Gideon was certain that Spartans were required to pilot those vehicles, not what looked like ODSTs in some kind of space-combat armor, but what the hell did he know about the UNSC?
"Probably more than whatever these ghost-people...things know, that's for sure." Gideon muttered to himself while watching the patrols taking place, before heading back to the bed to lie down and think.
"All right, so the ship isn't empty. That's good, because I have no idea how to operate this ship." He held up a finger, "My crew is made up of creepy ghost-people with voids for bodies, which isn't good, because that's just fucking horrifying no matter how friendly they seem to be." He held up another finger, "This ship is apparently capable of leaving this void, which is good because fuck this place." Gideon frowned, "On the other hand, it's pretty damn clear I'm gonna wander different universes until I either die, or find home, and that second one isn't looking very likely."
He lay back on the bed, and after another glance at the windows, Gideon decided to get some sleep.
Several hours later, at least according to the clock next to the bed, Gideon could tell that something was different about the ship as he approached the window, gazing past the virtual aperture to see that the ship was higher, large craft including what he recognized to be Pelicans sweeping past in patrol or inspection patterns around the ship.
*beep...beep*
Gideon started, turning towards the noise with a hiss, "Fucking hell." The source of the noise was an intercom system, mounted on the wall, with a button blinking cherry-red as Gideon stalked over and stabbed it with a finger, "This better be good." For now, there was no point trying to make sense of insanity, Gideon just had to go with the flow as best he could.
"Captain, we would like you to speak to the crew before departure and also name the ship, so that we all know what the call our home." The pleasantly up-beat voice of the XO came over the intercom and Gideon rolled his eyes before pressing the reply button.
"Fine, lemme grab a shower and get cleaned up. There a proper uniform in here?"
"And a full wardrobe for casual, formal and business attire as required." The XO replied merrily as Gideon released the button and decided to get this show on the road. Besides, he needed a shower after who-knows-how-long he had been walking around in the same clothes.
"Fuck." *thunk*
"Fuck." *thunk*
"Fuck." *thunk*
When he was done (and a quick check confirmed he had been at it for about an hour), Gideon realized that the ship was...different, as if it had shifted slightly in pitch. Standing up and walking over to a window, Gideon peered out into the airless, ashen wasteland below and blinked as he saw what looked like attitude-adjustment thrusts taking place, as teams of suited workers detached lines and moved massive containers into the ship.
"Wait, this ship actually takes supplies on board?" Gideon muttered as he watched the show, "What the hell...this ship takes supplies but I can't access them or the ammunition bunkers? What kind of bullshit is going on with this tub?"
He continued watching the work going on, taking note of the equipment being deployed on patrol around the ship, "Huh, that kinda looks like that Orbital Frame system that was used in that Halo movie collection, whatever it was named, Halo Myths? Whatever." Unlike what little he did remember, hazily at that, Gideon was certain that Spartans were required to pilot those vehicles, not what looked like ODSTs in some kind of space-combat armor, but what the hell did he know about the UNSC?
"Probably more than whatever these ghost-people...things know, that's for sure." Gideon muttered to himself while watching the patrols taking place, before heading back to the bed to lie down and think.
"All right, so the ship isn't empty. That's good, because I have no idea how to operate this ship." He held up a finger, "My crew is made up of creepy ghost-people with voids for bodies, which isn't good, because that's just fucking horrifying no matter how friendly they seem to be." He held up another finger, "This ship is apparently capable of leaving this void, which is good because fuck this place." Gideon frowned, "On the other hand, it's pretty damn clear I'm gonna wander different universes until I either die, or find home, and that second one isn't looking very likely."
He lay back on the bed, and after another glance at the windows, Gideon decided to get some sleep.
Several hours later, at least according to the clock next to the bed, Gideon could tell that something was different about the ship as he approached the window, gazing past the virtual aperture to see that the ship was higher, large craft including what he recognized to be Pelicans sweeping past in patrol or inspection patterns around the ship.
*beep...beep*
Gideon started, turning towards the noise with a hiss, "Fucking hell." The source of the noise was an intercom system, mounted on the wall, with a button blinking cherry-red as Gideon stalked over and stabbed it with a finger, "This better be good." For now, there was no point trying to make sense of insanity, Gideon just had to go with the flow as best he could.
"Captain, we would like you to speak to the crew before departure and also name the ship, so that we all know what the call our home." The pleasantly up-beat voice of the XO came over the intercom and Gideon rolled his eyes before pressing the reply button.
"Fine, lemme grab a shower and get cleaned up. There a proper uniform in here?"
"And a full wardrobe for casual, formal and business attire as required." The XO replied merrily as Gideon released the button and decided to get this show on the road. Besides, he needed a shower after who-knows-how-long he had been walking around in the same clothes.
***
A freshly-showered, shaved and combed Gideon stepped into the bridge to a simultaneous salute from the officers on the bridge, though it was difficult for Gideon to really tell what person covered which area of responsibility although the XO was easily picked out from the crowd as they approached, "Welcome back to the Bridge, Captain. We have a few important items to cover and some of it will require your direct input."
"Yeah?" Gideon leaned against the holo-table, "Well...Let's get this started then."
"Excellent." The holo-table lit up with a schematic of the ship, "The ship's reactors are back to functional status, but the entire ship is going to need a full refit and overhaul at a proper drydock otherwise it will start to lose containment or possibly go critical with extended use at full power."
"What's our current usage right now?" Gideon asked, looking at the fluctuating figures.
"About 22%, covering life support and critical systems. Deck guns and primary MAC array are offline and missile launcher projected combat performance has been degraded by 48% as well." An officer in a yellow uniform replied, "Engineering is working to try and squeeze out an extra 9% of safe performance from the reactors but that would only really improve the reloading and firing speed of the launch cells, or power maybe eight deck guns if we redirected all available non-critical power to them."
"So basically, we're a cripple." Gideon groused as the XO nodded, "Wonderful. Of course, this is all academic if we can't leave this place. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the aesthetics of ashen wastelands in eternal darkness as much as the next person, very cosmic horror, but I'd rather get some color back in my life."
The XO nodded, "The Slipgate Drive is operational, but in order to make full use of it while our reactors are in their current state, we'll need to shunt all power to the Slipgate Drive to ensure a smooth transition without annihilating us."
Gideon opened his mouth-
"Imagine having every atom in your body split, and then imagine said splitting atoms each being placed in their own individual hell where they get to experience it over and over and over." The XO replied.
Gideon shut his mouth with a click.
"I'm glad you understand the seriousness, Captain." The XO nodded, "Now, have you considered a name?"
"Since this is an edgy ship clearly designed by a retard who thought they were being edgy, I hereby name this flying kludgestorm the 'Graveyard Host'." Gideon replied immediately and the XO nodded.
"The name plaque will be installed tomorrow. Now," The XO turned to the others on the bridge, "Here are your bridge officers. Step forward and introduce yourselves."
One in a blue uniform with a female body-shape stepped forward, "Welcome aboard Captain, I am Tactical. I'll be responsible for analyzing enemy movements and relaying orders to the troops."
Another female stepped forward, "I am Intelligence. Apart from tactical and strategic analysis, I will also be highlighting objectives and potential targets to be engaged by our forces."
Two males stepped forward this time, "I am Engineering and this is Research. We'll be responsible for overseeing the manufacturing of supplies and studying anything recovered that may be used for our own purposes."
Gideon nodded, "Good to meet you all." He looked towards the XO, "So what happens now?"
"We need to engage the Slipgate Drive," The XO explained, the hologram shifting to highlight a complicated, perhaps eldritch array of machinery where the Slipspace Drive likely would have been in a proper UNSC vessel, "We can't stay here Captain, the longer this ship remains in orbit around the planet, the longer we risk dissolution."
"How long before we can jump?" Gideon asked, leaning against the holotable, studying the schematic and trying to understand what he was seeing, "Hours? Minutes? Days?"
"We can begin the jump in the next hour, but there is the risk of the reactors-" Gideon waved a hand and cut the XO off.
"You want to die here?"
The XO shook his head, "Not particularly, but if the reactors fail-"
"Shut up and spin them up." Gideon snapped, "I'm sick of staring at this wasteland. Either I'm in Hell or I'm going to Hell, and this is all just a sick trick anyway, or this works and we can go find resources to patch up or fabricate replacement reactors. Now fire up that drive."
"Aye Captain!" The XO replied, the bridge crew saluting in unison.
Last edited:
Orion Zete
[verify weaboo]
- Location
- Malaysia
I recommend you recheck all you knowledge on halo and everything you want to add to this story cuz I can hear the sound of angry fandom coming down on you with the rage of khorne inpower them to kill you brutally
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
>Angry Fandom.
<The point where I care.
Unfortunately, I do not yet have equivalency between the two.
Ardion Prosili
An (im)Perfect Cell
No head-ed people? That's really spooky.
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
No. There is literally a void where there should be a person.
Ardion Prosili
An (im)Perfect Cell
That's terrifying and damn there goes my chance to make a Michael Meyers joke.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So 2nd LTs?
Chapter 4: Tripped Over The Light Fantastic
Gideon020
Really in the mood for ribs.
The alarm that wailed throughout the ship brought all casual activity to a halt as the crew of the newly-named Graveyard Host began preparing to depart their brief home in the infinite void while in the reactor area, engineers began monitoring the damaged reactors as they were brought up to power, other engineers making final checks of the Slipgate Drive while Marines began moving to get strapped in for the transition.
Up on the bridge, Gideon watched the holograms quietly as the XO directed the careful ballet of docking craft ranging from Pelican and Condor dropships to Darter and Heron supply craft while several fighters came in to land at their own separate hangers. The ship meanwhile was steadily rising higher and higher, moving away from the planet before turning away, XO turning towards Gideon, "The last ships are loaded and locked down. We can begin transition on your orders."
Gideon nodded, "Start it up." As soon as he finished speaking, a low thrumming noise began to reverberate in the bridge and likely across the ship as Gideon narrowed his eyes, "Should I be concerned?" The XO cocked his head as Gideon repeated himself, "That noise, is it a concern?"
The XO seemed confused, "Noise, Captain?" He moved to the holotable and brought up a diagnostic screen, "There shouldn't be any kind of-"
The void beyond the windows suddenly became engulfed in light and then there was silence.
In the deafening silence, Gideon could only watch as reality came apart at the seams, unraveling into chains and webs of shining diamonds connected by flickering filaments, spreading outwards into eternity as his view began to shift towards one of the shining diamonds, the light growing brighter and brighter as it seemed like-
He fell to the floor, gasping for air before he felt hands reach around him and help him to a sitting position, "Captain! Captain, are you okay?" He looked up to see the XO staring at him in shock, "You suddenly collapsed as we engaged the Slipgate Drive, are you okay Captain?"
Gideon coughed as he wobbled, trying to regain his balance, "Visions...stars...my head." He collapsed to his knees again, clutching his head with one hand, "God I can't think!" He swallowed, trying to keep the bile down at the agony behind his eyes, vision blurring, "...medic. Now!"
"You heard him! I need a medic up here now!" The XO shouted.
Up on the bridge, Gideon watched the holograms quietly as the XO directed the careful ballet of docking craft ranging from Pelican and Condor dropships to Darter and Heron supply craft while several fighters came in to land at their own separate hangers. The ship meanwhile was steadily rising higher and higher, moving away from the planet before turning away, XO turning towards Gideon, "The last ships are loaded and locked down. We can begin transition on your orders."
Gideon nodded, "Start it up." As soon as he finished speaking, a low thrumming noise began to reverberate in the bridge and likely across the ship as Gideon narrowed his eyes, "Should I be concerned?" The XO cocked his head as Gideon repeated himself, "That noise, is it a concern?"
The XO seemed confused, "Noise, Captain?" He moved to the holotable and brought up a diagnostic screen, "There shouldn't be any kind of-"
The void beyond the windows suddenly became engulfed in light and then there was silence.
In the deafening silence, Gideon could only watch as reality came apart at the seams, unraveling into chains and webs of shining diamonds connected by flickering filaments, spreading outwards into eternity as his view began to shift towards one of the shining diamonds, the light growing brighter and brighter as it seemed like-
He fell to the floor, gasping for air before he felt hands reach around him and help him to a sitting position, "Captain! Captain, are you okay?" He looked up to see the XO staring at him in shock, "You suddenly collapsed as we engaged the Slipgate Drive, are you okay Captain?"
Gideon coughed as he wobbled, trying to regain his balance, "Visions...stars...my head." He collapsed to his knees again, clutching his head with one hand, "God I can't think!" He swallowed, trying to keep the bile down at the agony behind his eyes, vision blurring, "...medic. Now!"
"You heard him! I need a medic up here now!" The XO shouted.
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