02-13-2017, 10:30 AM
Morale had rose since the pirate attack, as slowly building grudges popped and ceased to exist once the chaos of battle ended. Fighting a common adversity usually erodes animosity like that. Now that everyone was more willing to gel together, talks started to pass around. With the growing choppy waters and darkening skies, this could only be a good thing.
The problem is that they were talking about me.
Word had gotten around about what I did to the pirates, although anyone who seen the mile long trail of bloody boot prints would have gotten the idea of what happened. A recording of what happened in Hangar 2 made the rounds, despite an attempt to retrieve it the damage was gone. It didn’t help that the wanton destruction of equipment lead to a shortage that I was still paying back days later.
I watched the sky from the flat top of the carrier. Like the Oracle had predicted, the waves had grown worse and the sun had rose over the horizon less and less as we moved further out towards the edge of the Vasty Deeps.
Things could only get worse.
I looked towards the horizon in the look for our penultimate destination, the Isle of Marlow. Simple colony, stock and hardy people. I didn’t expect reinforcements, but supplies and a chance to be able to shave on a stable platform again would be a welcome moment of peace before we made the suicide run to the void gate. It would be our last stop, destination second star to the right and straight on into the pit of Hell. or something like that.
To my side I noticed a floral print shirt and foehawk stand in the rage of the storm. I probably would have smelled Henderson first if it weren’t for the rain. Despite his constant skunk smell and just as foul personality, he had been the most stable thing on this ship. He was crude, but so was I, and despite our constant spats he was more than willing to stick around. I could respect someone who could take abuse, even if he did talk to a stuffed parrot.
“How does it look?” I asked, my sight still out towards the horizon. I didn’t need to see him, his silence of an answer was good enough. Things weren’t looking good for me, and if I had a mutiny on my hands then I doubted my allies would back me up if the mob decided to throw me overboard.
“Have any idea how I can fix this?
“What, ‘m I spose’ to fix yu’r problems, ya lime colored popsicle? Maybae ya didn’t run inta them ya won’t have’m , ya right wee scunner”
I was halfway to coming up with more creative than calling him an Irishman’s whore when he suddenly went silent. I stared at his sagging face, and I saw him remove his aviator to squint at something in the horizon/
“That’s smoke” he quickly answered, and before he could turn back I was already pelting back into the ship and demanding a transport.
When the dropship landed and we bailed out onto the blackened sand of Isles of Marlow, we found ourselves to be the only thing standing. From shore to shore nothing blocked our sight, the island flatted by craters and rubble scattered in the waves. We swept our weapons across the ruins, but there was no need. Nothing was left. Our searched found no survivors.
Nor bodies.
“Think it was a PLF attack?” One mercenary offered as we rallied in the ruins of a town hall when our investigation turned up nothing by questions. My own attention was somewhere off in the distance, focused to stifled a scream of pure ferocity and keep my hands down to my side. It felt like a lump trying to escape from my throat so it could strangle the nearest person.
“No bodies” retorted another. It was true. Not there was any lack of bloodshed, but it seemed subdued. Restrained. What happened here was not some butcher job.
My mind went to the possible scenarios, and my heart pumped as visions of pain flickered across my brain. I could feel control slip away, any moment I could have unleashed that anger that pushed on the inside of my skull. Only a redirection saved me from some misguided accident, but that wall probably didn’t deserve the hole I pushed through it either.
The other marines jumped and I soon had every other weapon there pointed at me. I pulled in as much air as my lung could hold. I let it out in a continuous sigh, which probably did better to calm everyone else than it did me. Didn’t need my own blood added to this mess.
As we waited for the carrier to pass by the island to save on fuel, I stared at the remains of the town hall. It was here that the fighting and blood was thickest, a last stand against the unknown invaders.
I could only look down as the previous adrenaline cooled. Could I have saved them? I had more important things to do, I wanted to get out of crazy town rather than get involved in its problems. So why did I care?
That’s when I saw it. A chip. Well, it looked more like a SD card. I had accidentally crushed it under my boot, but there was enough left to see what it was. It used to have some design printed on the front, and it was black and purple. Unnaturally black. Even just the broken piece left me uncomfortable. This had SOMETHING to do with the fight, I was sure of it.
But that was beyond my scope. I washed my hand of the Omniverse, and I would leave this be. As we arrived back on the ship, I had only one thing on my mind. Although we left with nothing, our mission was not change. The coming storms would not move me, nor any monsters stop me. Not even Omni himself would bar me from my return to Earth.
Last stop: Edge of the world.
The problem is that they were talking about me.
Word had gotten around about what I did to the pirates, although anyone who seen the mile long trail of bloody boot prints would have gotten the idea of what happened. A recording of what happened in Hangar 2 made the rounds, despite an attempt to retrieve it the damage was gone. It didn’t help that the wanton destruction of equipment lead to a shortage that I was still paying back days later.
I watched the sky from the flat top of the carrier. Like the Oracle had predicted, the waves had grown worse and the sun had rose over the horizon less and less as we moved further out towards the edge of the Vasty Deeps.
Things could only get worse.
I looked towards the horizon in the look for our penultimate destination, the Isle of Marlow. Simple colony, stock and hardy people. I didn’t expect reinforcements, but supplies and a chance to be able to shave on a stable platform again would be a welcome moment of peace before we made the suicide run to the void gate. It would be our last stop, destination second star to the right and straight on into the pit of Hell. or something like that.
To my side I noticed a floral print shirt and foehawk stand in the rage of the storm. I probably would have smelled Henderson first if it weren’t for the rain. Despite his constant skunk smell and just as foul personality, he had been the most stable thing on this ship. He was crude, but so was I, and despite our constant spats he was more than willing to stick around. I could respect someone who could take abuse, even if he did talk to a stuffed parrot.
“How does it look?” I asked, my sight still out towards the horizon. I didn’t need to see him, his silence of an answer was good enough. Things weren’t looking good for me, and if I had a mutiny on my hands then I doubted my allies would back me up if the mob decided to throw me overboard.
“Have any idea how I can fix this?
“What, ‘m I spose’ to fix yu’r problems, ya lime colored popsicle? Maybae ya didn’t run inta them ya won’t have’m , ya right wee scunner”
I was halfway to coming up with more creative than calling him an Irishman’s whore when he suddenly went silent. I stared at his sagging face, and I saw him remove his aviator to squint at something in the horizon/
“That’s smoke” he quickly answered, and before he could turn back I was already pelting back into the ship and demanding a transport.
Quote:----
When the dropship landed and we bailed out onto the blackened sand of Isles of Marlow, we found ourselves to be the only thing standing. From shore to shore nothing blocked our sight, the island flatted by craters and rubble scattered in the waves. We swept our weapons across the ruins, but there was no need. Nothing was left. Our searched found no survivors.
Nor bodies.
“Think it was a PLF attack?” One mercenary offered as we rallied in the ruins of a town hall when our investigation turned up nothing by questions. My own attention was somewhere off in the distance, focused to stifled a scream of pure ferocity and keep my hands down to my side. It felt like a lump trying to escape from my throat so it could strangle the nearest person.
“No bodies” retorted another. It was true. Not there was any lack of bloodshed, but it seemed subdued. Restrained. What happened here was not some butcher job.
My mind went to the possible scenarios, and my heart pumped as visions of pain flickered across my brain. I could feel control slip away, any moment I could have unleashed that anger that pushed on the inside of my skull. Only a redirection saved me from some misguided accident, but that wall probably didn’t deserve the hole I pushed through it either.
The other marines jumped and I soon had every other weapon there pointed at me. I pulled in as much air as my lung could hold. I let it out in a continuous sigh, which probably did better to calm everyone else than it did me. Didn’t need my own blood added to this mess.
As we waited for the carrier to pass by the island to save on fuel, I stared at the remains of the town hall. It was here that the fighting and blood was thickest, a last stand against the unknown invaders.
I could only look down as the previous adrenaline cooled. Could I have saved them? I had more important things to do, I wanted to get out of crazy town rather than get involved in its problems. So why did I care?
That’s when I saw it. A chip. Well, it looked more like a SD card. I had accidentally crushed it under my boot, but there was enough left to see what it was. It used to have some design printed on the front, and it was black and purple. Unnaturally black. Even just the broken piece left me uncomfortable. This had SOMETHING to do with the fight, I was sure of it.
But that was beyond my scope. I washed my hand of the Omniverse, and I would leave this be. As we arrived back on the ship, I had only one thing on my mind. Although we left with nothing, our mission was not change. The coming storms would not move me, nor any monsters stop me. Not even Omni himself would bar me from my return to Earth.
Last stop: Edge of the world.
![[Image: oGzCtPC.png]](http://i.imgur.com/oGzCtPC.png)