Thursday, April 21, 2011

Part 2 Chapter 19: The Guardian

2481 C.E.
REMNANTS OF UMOJAN EXPEDITIONARY FLEET
XEL'NAGA SANCTUARY
PLANET 2481CEfNO09

The flagship Andronikos was facing the Umojans' base but had stopped firing at random. On the field, both Terrans, Protoss, and Zerg stood under the dark grey skies confused and awed by the energy flowing through the ruins and the ball of light forming in the south where all eyes were fixed.
More and more material was torn from the buildings around it and the shards circled it a few times before merging to in the dark cluster in the middle. With the more rocks coming, the light grew dimmer and the sky seemed to gradually clear and the Xel'Naga wonder let the sun shine on the fields again.
Boris and everyone on the bridge had stood up to see it through the windows. On top of Chester's temple, all had gathered to observe. The Protoss, except for the one purple-wearing one who was poudly standing upright and gazing at the light with expectation, were on their knees. At the battle, Williams and Adelnur were on a roof that had become their last stand. The major could hear the purity of choruses pour in his ears while the energy pulsed. The Dark Templar had unsummoned his psi blades and was, too, observing, when Williams heard him in his head.
'The Nwat'Tun of the progenitors... I heard about it in apocryphal records. The greatness will be omnipresent.'
'Yes...' the ghost could only think to him.
The twisting in the middle had stopped and with one clean sweep all remaining unearthed rocks had come together to one main body. Like open veins, light blue light glued the dark shards of the complex together and the creature arose. Its head was giant and stood up in hundreds of meters in the air on top a small body, thin at the neck and wide at the top like a rough cone. The brighter glow of the radiant filigree moved from one point on the head to another, as if the spirit caught within the eclectic material shell was turning. The being threaded on four legs, spidery and radially emerging from the bottom of the small torso, but thick and covered with the web of light that emanated from within as was the whole rest of the creature. The guardian raised one of them and stepped sideways with force that shook the ground.
It stood still, but at the next moment, Williams felt overwhelmed by strange feelings. Another's feelings. The guardian's feelings. It was calling for its masters, not knowing of their flight in times of old. The ghost heard the calls and then knew that it found none. Then, it made a few light steps around and examined the former field of battle, the wreckage, the bodies, and the dust and smoke. It shook and he got worried because he felt its disapproval emanate from the very complex it was born from. The light the ancient edifices on this distant planet were engulfed in pulsed with its displeasure.
Then, he heard it addressing them, the Terrans. You are neither of the masters' creations they warned about. You played a part in this mindless strife with your cunning but petty technology and even managed to get to one of the masters' valuables. Williams was assured that the thing was turning towards the Terrans, indeed, and took a few steps back when he saw its thoughts abate, as if it contemplated something in its mind. He then realized that the Zerg on the ground had gotten nervous and their extreme anxiety was coming to the surface when they occasionally threatened and jumped against each other. Adelnur was completely still, hypnotized by the guardian. The very planet, the winds and the hot sun, had halted their move
'No,' the guardian's thoughts rushed into Williams' mind again, 'you are not a threat. With the circumstances, what you did was beneficial. I need not exist any longer.'
Before the ghost realized what this meant, the giant shape twitched and for a moment the convoluted lights it was webbed in dimmed. Then, they turned brighter and brighter and the guardian burst into brightness.
Williams covered his eyes and fell back. The ringing in his ears was deafening. He felt his head overwhelmed with force and fell on the stone floor losing consciousness.
***
Boris, too was seeing the guardian burst. He was so tormented by the effects of the radiation sickness that he just wanted the damned creature to put an end to all this. The light pierced the air and cut through the windows and consumed the bridge and the whole battlecruiser. Boris could not see anything, but felt the ship suddenly losing altitude and falling freely. In a final act of disdain closed his eyes and waited for the end.
***
Paskirov regained consciousness amidst bright light and voices. His head was hurting terribly but he forced himself to open his eyes. He was in a bed in the medical sector of the flagship and a few doctors were tending him and some other people around him. He tried standing up and one of the medics came to him. Boris realized that the pain had stopped.
'Sir, you are conscious! We feared you may be in a coma.'
'No, I'm fine... I'm... Fine,' he was confused. What had happened?
'What happened?'
'After the explosion, the systems of the whole ship were bugged and we had a hard fall down the ground. But, we're still in one piece. Some other ships didn't make it. I can't brief you on that, though,' the medic spoke as he measured the admiral's pulse. 'I have good news for you.'
'Right, what?'
'Your body is fine. After the... Radiation poisoning you endured,' the man slightly frowned. 'But don't worry, sir, is is classified. Doctor-patient confidentiality. You will feel a bit sick for several days, before you renew completely, but overall, you are good to go.'
'I want to see my fleet,' Boris sat up and prepared to leave.
'You realize that we recommend you rest...'
'No time,' he interrupted the medic and stood up.
Tediously, he put on the uniform and then went out in the hallway towards the obvious first destination, the bridge.
There, unfortunately, the operators were running a diagnostic of the computers of some sort and there was nothing to be done. Outside, the sun was setting. The Andronikos was still in the complex... On the ground.
***
The flagship had crushed among some buildings, but the Hreimdar was not so fortunate and was twisted and a huge hole in its hull meant that it wouldn't fly. Only the Stalwart of the Wanderer-class ships was fit for flying, along with four of the science vessels.
The infantry battalion had suffered so many casualties that it was no longer a functional combat unit. Most of the armor, too, was wrecked up. The fleet had lost more than half of its total numbers of men and equipment. Arnold was dead, the Zerg having invaded the Graf and slaughtered much of the crew. The lonely ship now stood like a tomb for its brave crewmen who had defended it to the end. Summers was still alive. As was Williams. The she-ghost Carla had been among the casualties. Boris found Williams in one of the tents of the field hospitals at assembly area “Base.” The ghost was lying there, apathetic.
'It's gone, sir,' he spoke to Boris. 'The voices are gone and the feelings are gone.'
The former ghost had lost his psionic abilities, as had all other gifted men that Paskirov had rescued from the Confederacy.
And, surprisingly, the Protoss and the Zerg were all gone. There were no traces of either, except for rags or blood and vague remnants of exoskeletons. It was reported that the energy had vaporized them all, sparing only the Terrans in its wake.
But then, the disappointment of the science team arose. Most of the data on the ships was corrupted or erased permanently. Only vital data storage, plus Chester's laptop, had lived through the energy surge, but Chester did not store any material on the research nonetheless. Only some notes on paper had survived in a useful condition. And not only that, the sphere had also been stripped of its arcane properties and the orrery it housed inside only twenty-four hours ago was now gone and the artifact was a dead marble ball. Even the golden armor found among Avissian's purple rags was lacking its blue crystals and the empty sockets were looking at Boris and the accompanying officers from the mocking deathly emptiness of a skull.
Chester, Konrad and the other humans had survived. By the evening they had made the several kilometer walk through the field and managed to report to base before falling asleep in the nearest empty building that still had a roof. Other men were sleeping among the wrecked tanks and goliaths, or somewhere in the base, or on the plain ground.
The next day, the survivors of the expeditionary fleet were evaluating the situation. The wormhole was closed, the Sei'Tara fleet they had known was destroyed, but their mission was accomplished thanks to the clever usage of the mirror and they were fixing what ships could be fixed and were preparing to make a final warp jump home. There was nothing, the high command decided on the field next to one of the repair depots for the armor, that could be done more with this fleet.
Before the Andronikos and the other surviving ships, including the three carrier ones, Boris had went through the laboratories of the Amerigo by request of Chester and some medics who wanted to know his condition.
This was one of the few discoveries that they could bring to Umoja. The admiral's body had been miraculously healed by the yet undiscovered skills of the Xel'Naga. All the DNA in his cells was completely new, and, what amazed the examiners, even the telomeres were brand new, as if he had never aged. And not only Boris', but also Williams', and Chester's, and the DNA of the whole fleet had been renewed. The guardian had given them a whole new lifetime.
***
2481 C.E.
REMNANTS OF UMOJAN EXPEDITIONARY FLEET
UMOJA
The Andronikos, the Stalwart, the Enteos, and the science vessels and the light carriers finally exited warp space among the familiar stars of the Koprulu sector, Umoja system. Boris gazed upon the planet with a smile: they were finally home.
The ships approached the planet and requested contact. 'This is Admiral Paskirov, of the expeditionary fleet sent from here under the command of Admiral McNorman. We are requesting docking clearance.'
The familiar protocol welcomed the Terrans to their homeworld but then the connection was overriden by Umojan officials.
'Are you the fleet who left off with that sphere?' an unknown man from the other side of the high-level transmission asked.
'Yes, sir, we are. We sort of lost it, but...'
'Never mind that. The Confederacy's on the other side of the planet, kid. Mr. Pasteur is negotiating with them right now. They found out about the attack on the prison and the rescue of Ethan and Powell and they are angry.'
'Right. What does that mean, sir?' Paskirov politely asked.
'We do not yet know. But be prepared immediately to destroy all evidence and information you have collected from your trip. Do you copy?'
'Yes, sir,' Boris was ready to comply with everything, as long as it was Terran, preferrably Umojan. 'May I ask, sir, why?'
'Well, kid, the negotiations... We'll see.'
And they saw. Half an hour later, it was clear. The Umojans had to give some warships to the Terran Confederacy to appease them. This included the surviving ships. Boris and the trusted Umojan officers had to leave the Andronikos and the other vessels they had seen so much in for the last time. From the control tower in one of the orbital platforms, Paskirov saw the good old warships, stripped of any information and records that the Confederates could find useful, head to their new service under new captains. Ferguson, Summers, Heuven, Williams, Chester and Konrad next to him watched, too, regretting the cruel indifference of fate. Boris saluted the Andronikos in the distance one last time before turning and leaving the room.
As he would later learn, the Andronikos would become the flagship of a new Confederate fleet squadron – Epsilon, and Martens and the Amerigo would play a role in its structure. A significant one.
That evening, on Umoja, they met Pasteur.
'So, you actually encountered alien life. Interesting,' the grey-haired man murmured on the dinner table in the Umojan institute. 'Whole three of them. One of them hidden... Well, gentlemen, this is a huge success. It's a pity that with the guardian's disintegration and the kind Confederates' intervention, nobody will get to enjoy its fruits.'
'The slab is gone for good, sir,' Williams spoke.
'Yes. I trust you about it, don't worry. You have loyally served our world and Umoja accepts you as one of its own now. Sometime later, I will be the inquisitor, with your permission, and will ask you to give us all information you know, are you fine?'
'About what?' Chester asked.
'The Protoss, the Zerg, the Xel'Naga... But we're mostly interested in Mr. Williams' past. Now that those things no longer disturb you,' Pasteur looked at the ex-ghost's face, checking for any negative reaction, 'we would like to know what the Confederates have achieved and, perhaps, help our own children. We do have kids with strange talents, of course, it's a completely Terran thing. I disapprove of our psichologists' unwillingness to accept this, but now that Mr. Williams can give us solid data – plenty of it – I'm sure we'll have a breakthrough in the field and, perhaps, a ghost program of our own!'
'I drink to that!' Boris raised a toast.

No comments:

Looking for something specific?

About This Blog

  © Blogger templates Sunset by Ourblogtemplates.com 2008

Back to TOP