The Quest
Foxtrot_Uniform
Join Date: 2003-06-12 Member: 17328Members
Join Date: 2003-06-12 Member: 17328Members
<div class="IPBDescription">paths and sins</div> The Quest is the story of 12 men lost on a vessel deep in space, trying to find a computer with information concerning the kharaa, but along the way, they meet a very peculiar individual. It was posted for a day or two, but didn't really recieve much reaction. I will be posting it again afte heavy editing. soon.
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The Quest
The vessel was an intricate spider web of halls, conduits and pathways that crossed and paralleled one another. They were trails we had to take, lined with steel tubes and pipes that hissed like snakes in our ears. They hissed steam, as hot as the very flames of hell, onto our helmet visors. The pipes were everywhere. They clung to the walls and ceilings, hanging over our heads, and lurking beneath the walkways. We were a squad of twelve men navigating those hissing halls. Marines, sent to retrieve information. A quest for knowledge, one might say. For our actions, though, we had been cast blindly into the fog and steam. Until, it seemed, by a miracle, a man was sent to save us.
“Cletch, sir, I think we’ve been down this path before,” came Horton’s voice over the intercom in my helmet. “Doesn’t it look familiar?”
I halted what I’d hoped was an advance. Unfortunately, their guess was as good as mine. We’d boarded the vessel through an entrance in the greenhouse, where they grew fresh fruits and vegetables for the crew of the entire ship. The irrigation system had been damaged, releasing a heavy mist into the room.
Knoll had called out to me, and when I arrived, he was pointing at a plump, perfectly ripe apple hanging from a tree. I warned him that it could be contaminated, but the hissing of the steam pipes must have masked my voice, because he plucked it from the tree and took a big bite. He’d had a look of satisfaction on his face until he dropped our navigation device. It fell into a irrigation ditch full of water, and shorted out. Knoll was apologetic, of course, but he couldn’t undo what he’d done. We had to leave the greenhouse without the aid of our navigation device.
“Sometimes, the paths repeat themselves,” I said, answering Horton’s question. “As long as we keep our bearings about us, well hopefully reach our objective.”
“We don’t even know the right direction, sir. This ship is too large to navigate blindly,” said Nolan, defiant as always. If there was one soldier that could get under my skin, it was Nolan. “We’ll never find our way without help.”
“I know that the vessel is large, Nolan. We don’t have anyone to show us the way, and we aren’t going to have anyone, unless by some miracle, someone appears to save us all,” I explained. We were wasting time. “You’re all keeping your eyes open for the computer labs, right?”
“Yes, sir!” they chimed in over the radio.
At that point, we’d been on the ship nearly four hours. We were tired and hungry which made being lost much worse. The computers that we searched for contained vital information on the alien race. A threat that was discovered shortly after deep space explorations began.
“Sir?” asked Pratt. He was hunched over the motion detection device headquarters supplied. “I’m picking up movement about fifty meters straight ahead.”
“Good work, Pratt,” I responded, shouldering my weapon and releasing the safety with my thumb. We carried standard issue, lightweight sub machineguns. They used 30 round magazines and .45 caliber ammunition. They were sturdy, reliable firearms. “We could have hostiles ahead, boys. Look sharp.”
We moved together as a unit. Enders, Nolan, Druven and Stenler watched our backs. Pratt remained in the center, the place of greatest protection, to ensure that we didn’t lose the motion detector. Horton and Rob took the flanks, making sure no alien life forms took us from the sides, and Vikers, Knoll and I watched the front.
“30 meters, sir,” whispered Pratt. The team quieted down substantially and our footsteps gave way to the pipes that seemed to be hissing louder than ever. Hot steam blew over our armored suits and condensation beaded on our visors. The longer we went along the pathways of the ship, the more the steam pervaded my armor, sliding between the cracks of my suit and penetrating the pores of my skin. I felt naked and helpless against it.
“20 meters, sir.”
The steam was thick. It was blinding. Swirling in front of my eyes and distorting what lie ahead.
“10 meters.”
Through the mist, a light became visible, shining through the fog like a star. It was an intense red light, and I followed it the remaining few meters.
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