《፡፧Only Earth Survived፧፡》1808/AC02-01EVENTLOG
Advertisement
፡፧Only Earth Survived፧፡
Book Of Death 1808/AC02-01EVENTLOG
Ω CHAPTER ONE: Aftermath
"...Hope..."
The world twisted and writhed, cast upon by forces unseen and unfelt.
"...Dreams..."
Ruins and wrecks rested perfectly in the flow like islands in a sea of darkness.
"...Ashes..."
A lone world hung as the only perceivable refuge from the desolation high above. A barren place, forgotten on the precipice of the eternal darkness.
"We have lost all of them."
Yet is surface rippled with fire. The shade of once frozen wastes was now tainted by the glow of molten regolith. Nothing would again walk it's surface. It burned, eternal in the night.
"We have lost everything..."
"How could we lose so much?"
Yet something lived in that darkness. Helpless, innocent and meek. It came silent, like a whisper in the darkness. It held no hope of ever making such a mark on the starscape, even yet by some miracle or happenstance it was all that remained in the command of man.
"What did we do to lose so much?"
The Phoenix was a small craft. She was no glorious cruiser or proud dreadnought, and her crew were certainly far from it. Her few quad batteries scanned the debris, darting back to the various space hulks every time they collided or even moved. Nothing should move out here. Their presence was unnatural now. Even their slow, thoughtful pace disturbed the hallowed remains. Sweeping searchlights revealed its presence, one of decay now only wishing to remain unseen.
“Jax?” The gunboat's Skipper looked back, the first to break the awe filled silence.
“Nothing on screen, Skip.” His next-in-command spoke in a hushed tone, she was unwilling to disturb the dead. She was stiff with unease. They were everywhere.
“That cruiser still has it’s weapons stowed…” her fellow Engineer spoke in a booming voice, pointing to the looming hulk, silent in death, ensnared in writhing debris. "It never got a chance to fire back."
It was still and peaceful at rest, yet its hull still glowed faintly even now. It too was breathing its last before the cold of space claimed it.
“They’re all in formation. No anomalies.” KT brushed a strand of hair from her eyes, yet she covered her face as best as possible. This was all so wrong. She sent yet another hushed wish for a peaceful rest as yet another ruined vessel silently passed by.
“Look out your porthole KT. Everything’s dead, that’s anomalous enough.” Jax hissed back.
“Jax! Calm it.” Skip warned, Jax lowered her gaze, focusing intently on her panning screens. KT shot him the faintest thankful glance. “What you mean?”
“There is no anomalous wreckage or fleet patterns.” KT swallowed, logic stated they should all be concerned. “Their attackers survived… All of them. And they moved on.”
The largest of the hulks eclipsed the dull glow of the cracked world. It’s scale was truly magnificent. One of many words to describe such a vessel. The dreadnaught's construction was indeed a triumph, one celebrated for many days, and Its wreck was still a triumph. It was a monument to those that saw it. Nothing would stand in its way, even now.
Advertisement
So how could it lose?
“This is worse than the Proxima Massacre…” The engineer muttered, clear memories of the event ran out in his eyes. “At Least they fought back. This was-”
“-sudden...” Skip finished. The brutality was awe inspiring. His eyes didn't leave the viewport as he flicked the switches on his console. “I’m taking us closer. French keep us silent, nice and slow.”
The Phoenix maneuvered in close to the gleaming hulk, their spotlights brought the vessel to life, yet through its bulkheads and viewports its occupants were still frozen in death. It had wasted no time, at least it would’ve been quick. His three crewmates all jumped as a clamp engaged with a reverberating clunk. “Standoff on flight.”
“Shouldn’t we survey the drift? A sudden hit and run there could be survivors.” KT asked with a frown. Jax scoffed.
“Get real KT, the only thing that survived this was the bastards who caused it.”
“Exactly. Launch probes, better those shivs find them than us.” Skip confirmed, giving the nod to his engineer.
The small modules were swift, and equally near silent. They exploded from one of their mothership’s quad guns with little more than a clunk. Each one arched off into the wreckage as it’s launcher panned across it. The small balls puffed with gas as they maneuvered the debris at vast speeds, all the while listening intently. Seeing what their masters could not.
Yet nonetheless, there was no living out here but them.
Their methods were well rehearsed, and equally well remembered. Yet no amount of experience could prepare them for this. The graveyard was of incalculable size, vessels beyond number loomed in every direction. Not one was untouched. Each one was lacerated and torn asunder to a lesser or greater extent, yet nonetheless they'd all fallen victim to vicious and unrivalled firepower.
In their small search area their results were unnerving. They found no survivors, no apparent cause, no intention, and worse of all: No Trace. This battlefield might’ve been young, but it’s story was already forgotten. Leaving only their imaginations to tell the ferocity of the overwhelming force that acted out here.
“... OSFC Araudalos...” Jax read from her console, the probe had squawked another vessel, yet not one that should be here. "...DSPG Vakkin…"
“Roll back, what is the OSFC doing out here?” Skip asked concerned, French leaned over, looking at him with a quizzical look.
“Err, Boss? Who ye’ think you're working for?” He grumbled, smirking faintly.
“Funny, Really surprised you’d be able to read me name badge.” His boss rattled back in their native banter. “The prefix of OSFC is reserved for ships part of the higher echelons. We’re talking top brass, direct Admiralty oversight. Not for spacers like us.”
"Skips got a point. It's a capital class ship, Providence type. High military. Damn thing shouldn't be on the edge of the Frontier like this." Jax watched the vessel’s blinking hulk on her radar. She turned to her side and sent French a worried look. "Whatever did this has torn it in half… right down its stem…"
“It is registered in the Echo Falls colony fleet, launched to Attsol Indignes for orbital clearing Six weeks ago. ‘Pride of the fleet’. Damn thing costs the same as a battlefleet; it should not have lost this fight.” KT read from her screen. Something else caught her attention. “Captain, nav beacon five kilos spinward...”
Advertisement
She quickly brought up the information, checking its registry and data for a moment as the atmosphere became tentative. KT raised her hands in a half hearted 'chear'. “Still powered! Only minor damage.”
"Probes reporting no movement apart from drift..." Jax thought for a moment, scratching her temple. "I'd say we're clear Skip."
“Copy that.” Skip muttered, reaching up to release them once again. “Going manual.”
The Phoenix released with a jolt and a silent clunk. She drifted away from the restful hulk. Still in it’s shadow her large engine nozzles lit with a purring inferno and she once again took gentle flight away, arching through the wreckage with a cautious pace. Twisting and turning smoothly through the wrecks with her spotlights targeting each piece. Microdebris flashed sparks against her hull, her turrets twitched once again with waiting fury.
The light from Prokhyon only barely broke around the looming remains of these once proud war machines, the shadows cast across the wrecks gave the entire field an isolating presence. Out here, on the edge of the system, they faced this peril alone.
The small capsule-shaped beacon could’ve been easily missed, yet at the same time it stood out. It seemed the only thing even remotely intact save for themselves, yet it was far from unscathed. A couple of antennae around its base were twisted and buckled, yet for the most part it still worked silently. It was dwarfed by the Phoenix, illuminated by its spot lamps as the vessel loomed over it winged by flashes of fire. As if a hunter approaching its prey, it remained undisturbed until the moment a small connecting arm rushed for it like a striking bird. Several silent hisses later, the secrets of the battle began to download onto their systems.
“Saving it to the data drive now…” KT murmured as she watched her screen intently. Several small progress bars filled as the Phoenix tore through the data, and learned of the slaughter that had unfolded out here.
“What we getting?” French asked as he, like everyone else, waited with baited breath. It was a short while before he got an answer.
“Hard to say so far... Basic survey data… Energy readings... Radar maps of the fight most likely, it’d be pretty vague. Should get a basic picture after section analysis.” She replied slowly, deep in thought as she watched the various markers move around one another. The displayed data was nowhere near in depth enough to explain what had occured, but it was at least a start. It only confirmed their theories: It had been sudden, it'd been aggressive, and the attackers had moved on.
Her console flagged the download as complete, and as soon as it returned to idle it flagged another ping, this one on Comms. “Skip! We have just picked up another distress signal. Automated. Explorer Corps survey station Indigo Alpha, it’s edge of the system, roughly five days away at best speed.” She listened intently to her headset. “It’s garbled all to hell the emergency beacon must be damaged.”
“Lock it in KT, give me the way. Get the wings up Frenchie, Jax shut down weapon systems and lock ‘er down.” Skip jumped to action immediately, firing up his flight controls and leaping the Phoenix into action. She uncoupled from the beacon with haste, swinging herself into flight with a roaring jet of her engines. She whipped off into the thinner debris as four thin wings rose from her hull, leaving the graveyard in silence and darkness once more.
“Navcon green, coordinates are locked in and Flightpath is in the computer.” KT said with a faint smile, even under the circumstances, this was the moment she always lived for. It reminded her that they were, and always will be, free.
“Copy that.” Skip turned back to his engineer, the look he gave asked the question without a word uttered.
“Yeah mate, pushin’ the ICE a tad close to cooldown, but she’ll take it.” He gave him a nod, all too aware of the large dial upon his display, gazing upon him like an eye, uncomfortably full.
“Alright standby…” Skip felt the apprehension, it was far too oppressing not to. He could spot Jax in the viewport’s reflection leaning back, the look on her face said the concern drew upon her frustrations. “...Skimming in five.”
The ship began to humm. Even in the vacuum of space she hummed. With the silent whir of machinery her quad batteries hunkered down against the hull, bracing for the unnatural fury.
“Four.”
For that brief second all that gave away the coming fury was the silencing of her oversized engines. The four apiece baffles opened to their widest, letting the Phoenix’s drive nozzles glow akin to stars, unbound by her deft attempt to control their ever increasing power...
“Three.”
The glow became akin to a ember. A brilliant blue ember, so pure it was the bringer of fire. It swelled from beyond the baffles, left behind as a gentle wake of plasma as she rounded a final obstacle. With the silencing of her thrusters the flame grew ever bigger. The heat of her engines warmed the compartments… The smell of hot metal lingered like a stench.
“Two.”
Four fins rose from her bulky wings, a shimmering warp of space bowed and exuded from their tips. As they reached the peak of their extension, the flame began to leach forth in what seamed as a blue smear. It seamed pitiful, weak… Little more than an inhale...
“One.”
Before her roar. The torrent of flame erupted forth from the Phoenix’s heart, scorching all in its wake, and damning all that survived to ashes and cinders...
“Mark.”
The crew took a collective breath, as the roar of her engines reached a crescendo, the insignificant gunboat tore forth into the darkness, accelerating so fast she would be eviscerated instantly on impact. Yet the crew felt nothing, only being buffeted by the wave of air that whipped past their bodies, leaving them in vacuum as the moisture pooled as liquid at the vessel’s aft.
She took flight into the darkness, fearless and furious...
And left nothing behind but ruin...
Advertisement
World Of Monsters
In order for Alyssa to survive the Zombie Apocalypse, she was going to have to trust another kind of monster.
8 354Doing God's Work
The gods are real and incorporated. Providence is a profitable global monopoly. But its chief executive is a corrupt authoritarian, the combined might of the divine powers is ignoring humanity’s problems, and Helpdesk service is, frankly, terrible. In this corporate fantasy, it’s up to history’s most maligned immortals to step up and sort things out. --- DGW is on Discord! - https://discord.gg/fuRPFeV8Hf
8 261The Dark Lord's Home for Undead Heroes
Julian Crane seldom cared for anything but his magic and research. When the gods decided to damn him out of the blue, naming him Dark Lord and painting him as a Villain in the eyes of mankind, he moved on with his life, caring nothing about their scrutiny. But their ways are ineffable, and when they start sending Heroes — mere children — to throw their lives against him, he vows to make them pay — one undead Hero at a time. *** Updates schedule: Tuesday-Friday-Sunday The average chapter is between 2-2.5k words. Join the Discord here! Support me on Patreon to read up to 5 chapters ahead here! Cover art done by the awesome Mingapur.
8 273A Demon Between Worlds
Mark Bastion, formally the Demon Barbas, has been living a pretty good life ever since his escape from Hell a few hundred years back. He's now running a shady exorcism business with his spunky assistant, making a good living scamming the common folk. But life's never that easy, especially after a fake exorcism gone wrong, leading Mark stuck a job that he cannot decline. Now, with both Heaven and Hell after him, he has to use the powers that he has neglected just to say alive. That, and with a lot of help from friends both old and new.
8 207口れ工ち爪- K.爪工K丹モㄥち口れ
In which Stiles Stilinski's sister moves to New Orleans but it's not what she expected.KLAUS MIKAELSON X OC
8 145HOW GIVE ME DESIROUS MY ADOPTED BROTHER ?? (mizo bl)
🔞how give me desirous my adopted brother !??? 🔞🔞🔞 complete
8 69