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Rated: 13+ · Novella · Sci-fi · #1450164
Chronicles following unlikely and ill-prepared adventurers through space.
The Lost Nova Chronicles


In a place so abundantly empty, that it is only referred to as ‘space’. In a constant where ‘time’ is virtually unknown. There linger endless barons of beyond, the sheer essence of eternity. The never-ending tundra of darkness, illuminated only by the gargantuan spheres of fire, riddled throughout the many belts and countless constellations. As far as our known existence can comprehend. In each unfathomable eternity much like this one, peace governs all in supreme picturesque silent serenity. Nevertheless, ‘change’ is the only certainty.

A new glow is beginning to illuminate the mantle of shattered rock, and imploding gas formations…
         
Silence… there is, no longer.

*Zzzt* “Co-ordinates ESG-1-09, Vessel ES 2.0.9.1 humbly requesting first available velocity influx sequence data, we seem to be having slight technica-”

“Bah! Must you use pleasantries!? Honestly! We need that sequence ‘now’, damn it!”

“Settle down mate, the statistical chances of gravity influx impedance in this quadrant are 42, 327 to 43, 465. With an Element of any luck we might actually-”

“Ah, shut it ya’ half-wit mutant bastard, you’re as bad as that bloody droid!”


The ravenous flames engulfing this sleek vessel glowing most ‘intensely’ as the old ship spirals through a lonely and uninviting abyss. Much like a shooting star scorching through the pitch of eternity. A bonny maiden trade voyage no more, this was a doomed path, regardless of where it was meant to lead - Mayhem were now its destination.

*Zzt* “Repeating distress call 001, amplification of signal 67. I repeat. Repeating Distress-”

“I repeat, ‘repeating’!? No wonder we’re lost! You’re obviously defective! Who programmed you!?”

“You know... this is hardly the time to question my programming capabilities Belorat…”

“You mean lack-there-of!”

“VESSEL ES 2.0.9.1 YOUR PRESENCE IN THE DELTA QUADRANT IS HIGHLY UNAUTHORISED, CEASE PROGRESSION IMMEDIATELY OR SUFFER FIRST VOLLEY WARNING FIRE.”

“Oh… Buggar. It appears they no longer grant velocity influx sequence data to unauthorized vessels in the forbidden quadrants… When’d they change that?”

“No! Apparently not… Why did I sign on to this? You know I knew you were both useless knuckle-dragging sons of whores as I boarded this rust-riddled hunk of junk. And now I know why!”

“Well now you’re just being silly…”

“Am I!? We’re about to die!”

“No, really, you’re wrong”

“I would hope so!”

“…”

“Because you said Binary and I were ‘sons’ of whores, yeah? When Binary doesn’t have genitals and I built him. Not a whore. So...”


A deep sigh is all but exhaled by the stocky form of a gruff chap at the helm of the controls. Slapping his broad hand over his forehead, whimpering sounds as he makes his distress all the more public. Was it more the tragedy of dying out here in the unknown, or meeting his demise surrounded by idiots that troubled him so?

“Why? …Why me? Who did I wrong to deserve such unjust vicissitudes?”

“Well… there was that bloke you spat at. Remember? Oh yeah and how many times have you called me a mutant in the last half hour? I mean we only met 45 minutes ago.”

“VESSEL ES 2.0.9.1 – YOU HAVE EXCEEDED YOUR WARNING PARAMETERS. VOLLEY LASER FIRE DISMISALL IN ACTIVATION. END TRANSMISSION”

“Not good… You know it’s bad when they say ‘end transmission’”

“Oh really? So the part about Laser fire was just for shits and giggles? …To hell with you pair, if I’m gonna die I’m gonna know what we’re hauling back here!”


The gruff gent scoffing as he hauls himself out of his chair, wide strides he makes for the doorway leading into the hall towards the cargo bay. Rattling, clunking and the sound of whizzing mechanics begins to sound heavily over the sounds of a ship literally tearing itself apart due to an imploding gravitron-stabilizer (specific cause, unbeknownst to those on board). The Droid Binary, standing in a less than welcoming stance, near to 7 feet tall between the stocky Belorat and his path.

*Zzt* “As it saddens me greatly to make such an informal declaration, I’m afraid I can’t allow you passage to the cargo bay with the intent of breaching primary protocol.”

“Aww c’mon Binary… I wanna see what’s back there too”

“Out of my way Binary! You can’t harm an organic!”

“Ooh…”

“Ooh? Don’t tell me you-”


With a painful crack, the short and stocky gent’s form is sliding along the command deck. Thudding into the control panel stands he stumbles to rise, unsteadily looking to Metaphys with a hateful glare.

“You built a Droid… that can harm carbon-based life-forms... ARE YOU COMPLETELTY INSANE!?”

“Well you know… I don’t think its right they ‘have’ to surrender.”

“Yeah!? You probably won’t think much of this either!”


Grasping the phoraphic rifle fixed to the panels aside him; Belorat takes no hesitation in letting loose a phoraphic round or two. Emitting an ear piercing blast as the dim Command deck is illuminated with an intense red glow. A fierce light emission blasting heavily into kheldorian iron, exploding against the coordinate controls before which Binary were standing a mere instance prior.

*Zzt* “Captain Morgis Belorat - I beseech you to drop your weapon and place your hands over your head; in breach of primary security protocol I must restrain you in the designated holding cell. I am most terribly sorry for any inconvenience this might incur”

“Oh… Yeah… that’s alright… Just, let me-”


The Command deck ignited with a keen red glow, as pulse after pulse of ear splitting phoraphic round is loosed. Flames spreading over the control panels as electrical shorts and sparking circuits flicker throughout the navigation systems. Like a dozen relentless beating drums sounding in unison, echoing with ferocity Belorat’s roars utterly muted. His psychotic facial expression, gritted teeth beneath his bushy beard all too much for Metaphys to bear it seems. Abandoning both counterparts the bewildered fellow sprints fearfully down the hallway as phoraphic rounds blast into the panels behind each bound he takes.

The red emergency warning lights flicking on and off, a serene voice begins to sound over the chaotic scenario readily unfolding within the smoke and flames. Unheard to Belorat as he hatefully fires at Binary who elusively somersaults and climbs about the command deck heights, a step ahead each fired round. A screeching emitting from the core of the ship, far beneath the command deck sound before a vigorous pulse makes its way through the bellows of the vessel.

Metaphys whimpering as his whip-like long tail clutches along behind him desperately attempting to clutch at something as his body slides speedily down the hallway. Clutching at something his tail whips around it several times, as his body jerks to a painful stop. Exhaling with relief for but a moment, as the emergency message becomes somewhat more coherent now that he’s stagnant.

“EVACUATION SEQUENCE UNABBORTABLE – ALL ESCAPE-PODS LAUNCHING IN 29 SECONDS”

“Wait! No! Just a minute!”


Scrambling to his feet Metaphys sums up his morality, looking to the commotion of light and smoke down the corridor. Belorat and Binary were consumed with death at a time when survival was priority; they require the level-headed instruction of a seasoned engineer. Then again... Ah, who needs company – the escape pods of the ES vessels are notoriously cramped anyway. Sprinting down the hallway as his tail whips nervously behind him Metaphys leaps several dozen feet, launching through the air making for the nearest escape pod entry.

In all but one flicker of an instant however, a crack emerges in the observation barrier aside his launching form. Such is fate it would seem that the glass would break at this moment rather another. Sucking with a will to consume Metaphys entirely, space takes hold of this most unfortunate soul and before his realization could contemplate this grim fate, his body was visible to both Belorat and Binary in their unruly combat.

Belorat taking a glimpse at Metaphys as a wide grin spreads over his face, undoubtedly contemplating something cruel and witty to declare his speech falls short as a mechanical limb knocks him unconscious. Binary’s red orbs flickering before turning an intense yet calm green. Whizzing and mechanical churning sounding from within Binary’s inners as Metaphis’ body slides along the observation barrier covering the nose of the Command Deck.

There is a special connection between any being and its maker. Be it a Father and Son, Mother and daughter or even in this case an Engineer and his Droid.

With a sound much like *Zzt* Binary is charging toward the glass at the end of the Command Deck as his Creator gently drifts off into the distance. Launching off of his haunches Binary’s form reassembles mid flight to a more compact size, much like a cannon ball. Smashing through the observation barrier with tenacity, the barrier shards and cracks crumbling to diminish as Binary parts from the Great Vessel. Extending robotic limbs from side compartments, jet propulsion takes place as the Droid swiftly takes hold of Metaphys’ seemingly lifeless body.

With a blast of streaming blue jet flames the Droid is shooting backwards along the length of the exploding vessel as the air lock restraints begin to lock up and seal the Command Deck. Drifting over the top of the explosive construct, the pods have already begun to disperse, blasting from the ship and soaring through the heavens. As one deploys beneath Binary the robot swiftly soars down through the temporarily opened air-lock crashing through the utility lockers as Metaphys’ body is lost from his grasp, landing awkwardly on the floor of the pod hanger bay. For but a moment Binary’s life monitoring system linked to Metaphys showed the loss of vital signs, but as low level nitrogen began to fill his lungs, hope was slowly yet surely rekindled.

Fierce explosions blasting in all sections of the ship, tearing through the auxiliary engines located around the stabilizers. The power-core system was seriously damaged and faulty emergency power had just kicked over. The lights flickering on and off as power had been completely re-directed bypassing the ventilation system. Electrical fires were clouding the control rooms with smoke.

(*To be continued - still considering whether this story has enough potential to go on with, looking for feedback.)


© Copyright 2008 John Smith (deplorable at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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