Misson Zero

This is my entry to the Inspired By Images Of Eve Competition 3. More details and links to all entrants can be found at Starfleet Comms.

It was supposed to have been a simple mission.  The Riptorn was to have met up with deep space mining fleet Zulu at zero-eight hundred.  The computer reported no recent destroyed ships and no pod kills in the last twenty four hours, however the mining fleet was nowhere to be found.  It was Captain Miles Blacks first mission.  The Indelta Corporation had seen fit to provide the captain with a Tech I Rifter and able crew.  It was a far cry from the ship he was used to piloting but the corporation felt it was an undue risk to let the captain fly in guns blazing in his Tech II Wolf.  At least they gave me the same class of ship, too bad I'm working with a new crew though.

Where the heck is the Zulu and where the heck are the scouts I sent out?  A honest question, if you hadn't been a capsuleer for the past eight years.  The answer was pretty much obvious to him, they were dead.  It had been two hours since he sent his lead scout Captain Riley into the adjacent sector for a simple gate camp recon and another hour since he sent our Rileys second in command, Captain John Simmerson.  Where are they?  Neither had returned.  

The corporation, as it always does, provided clean-cut orders.  The Riptorn was to meet up with Zulu fleet and escort their ships back to corporation controlled sector space.  Escort the fleet? Ha! More like escort the cargo.  They don't care about the fleet. Along with escorting the fleet Captain Black was under strict order not to engage enemy targets unless fired upon and above all else, refrain from entering Alliance space.  The Indelta Corporation was knee deep in peace treaty talks with members of the Divine Alliance.  Corporation CEO General Walter Kross had put forth a corporation mandate which prevented any member from entering Alliance space until such time as the treaties were signed, with a pen or with blood. I prefer blood myself, but then again I never did much like politics.

"Sir, there is activity on the gate!". This is what they pay me for.

"Something is coming through."

Captain Black peered over his glasses at the ships monitor.  "Set high alert.  Prepare your stations.  Approach the gate at half speed."  This is it people, this is what you train for.  No matter how many times the captain had uttered that phrase to the crew, it always feels like the first.  With a missing mining fleet, both highly experienced scouts missing and ship fitted for escort service and not fleet battle, captain Black was concerned.  I might be a capsuleer, but my crew aren't.  I'll live, they will die.  Not on my watch.  "Full speed to gate".

"Sir, it's one of ours.  An Iteron from the Zulu mining fleet.  It looks like it got beat up pretty good.  Sir, your orders?"

"Open a channel, I want communications. I want to know what the hell is going on here!" I want to know where my damn scouts are.

"This is Captain Rouge of the Zulu mining fleet.  We were driven into Alliance space by members of a rival faction, a fleet of thirteen.  We've lost two smaller Iterons but both managed to jettison their cargo before destruction. Zulu Commander Rickerson ordered me to scoop up the cargo and head back to corporation sector space, escort or no escort."  Where are my scouts dammit!  

"Captain Rouge! I need a Zulu fleet status report and a fitting itinerary for each ship, and I need it yesterday!"  I'm not supposed to enter Alliance space!  Screw that.  I'm here to save lives, not cargo.  The Iteron piloted by Captain Rouge slowly flew past the Riptorn.  Massive blaster holes could be seen along it's left side from stern to aft.  My god, how is that bloody ship still together?  What was once no doubt a beautiful ship and the pride and joy of her captain was almost nothing more than a floating wreck in space.  Its armor plating had been completely stripped away exposing the hull.  The hull itself had taken enough damage that various sections had been completely blown open, ejecting tiny debris into the vast openness of space.

"Sir, Zulu status report and fitting information are up on your monitor.  You orders?"  This is bad. Damage reports indicate that the mining fleet wont be able to last much longer.  We need to get in there now! Captain Black was reading over the various fittings for each of the mining ships when another ship jumped through the gate.  Captain John Simmerson burst onto the comms channel in a fury of chatter.

"Sir, it's hell in there.  Captain Riley is still cloaked 150 kilometers out from the gate awaiting your orders.  We've switched to secure channel A125Z for combat operations.  Your orders sir?" Captain Simmerson was always direct and to the point.  A quality hard to find among capsuleers these days, one of which Captain Black admired greatly. In or out? In or out? In!

"Escort the damaged Iteron back to corporation sector space. I need you to alert the war counsel of our situation and request that a second escort fleet warp here and secure and defend any ships from Zulu fleet we are able to save.  Hop to it!".  The captain had made up his mind.  Alliance treaty or no treaty, he was going to save his ships.

"Switch to tactical.  Prepair to jump".  In an instant men and women were rushing to their stations.  Screaming and pushing filled the control room.  They were going to battle.  The rumbling of the jump drives drowned out all the crew noise and for a second, it all seemed so calm.

"Multiple targets 15KM, 22KM, 25KM.  Seven cruisers and a two battlecrusier." The man behind the helm screamed.

"Multiple targets inbound, 200KM.  Three destroyers and one battleship."

"Sir?"

"Lock targets and engage.  Switch to secure combat channel A125Z."  Ship visuals began to pop up on the various monitors above the captains head.  Shield levels, armor levels, hull strength.  All the important information a captain needs when in battle.  If that battleship gets here the Zulu fleet will be annihilated, us along with it.  "Captain Riley!  Engage that battleship and slow him down.  We need to get Zulu through the gate."  One hundred and seventy five clicks off the port side Captain Rileys cloaked ship appears.  Within seconds Riley is along side the battleship.  His stealth ship is no match for the accompanying destroyers and not before long Riley is destroyed and podded.  Now that's a hero.  Riley managed to statis web the battleship long enough to allow seven of the ten Zulu fleet mining ships to jump.  These three won't make it, think Black, think!

"Put the Zulu fitting information back on my main monitor.  I think I have an idea!" Captain Black said.  Yes, yes! This might do it, this might work!  "Open a unsecured channel with the Captain of that Iteron V.  NOW!"  The communication operator gave the captain a strange look.  Yes, I said unsecured channel, now open it!  Without saying a word the operator opened the channel.

"Captain of the Iteron.  This is Riptorn Captain Miles Black. Active your Cynosural Field Generator. Our entire combat fleet is standing by to warp." Black said with a stern voice over open communication channels.  Within seconds the Cynosural Field Generator was active.  I hope they fall for it. "Target the battleship.  Approach at full speed, when we're in range, fire!".

The Listeners

Almost everybody has something to say.  Most people have more to say than others care to hear.  Some people even just say things so that others will listen.  Some people don't say anything at all.  I'm one of those people.  The ones that don't speak.

I get loud, I shout out.  I have an opinion on everything, my opinion.  I give advice.  I speak my mind when I feel I need to express something to someone.  I've created and defused heated arguments.  I've simply just created arguments. I've simply just defused arguments too.  But like I said, I'm one of those people, the ones that don't speak.

I've been so vocal with my opinion, I've got myself removed and banned from locations.  I'm so loud I've had the police called.  I've ran my mouth off at the bar.  I've said it all.  But again, I'm one of those people.  The ones that don't speak.

I keep saying all these things to people.  Nice things.  Bad things.  I keep talking.  Yet still, I'm one of those people that doesn't speak.

I hear peoples problems.  I try to speak up and help.  I see people problems, I try to speak out and help.  I give advice and encouragement when I see others who need it. I offer my words of advice.  I offer my words of encouragement.  But yet still, I'm one of those people that doesn't speak.

I say things I hope people will hear.  I reach out with my words to those that might listen.  Yet now, I find that I'm the one who wants to speak.  I find now that I'm the one with something to say.

But now, nobody wants to listen.

I've been here before : A tale of wonders from the past.

I found myself walking down a street.  The houses had no numbers and the people I could see didn't seem to see me in return.  It's all a bit hazy to think about but when I looked down the street it appeared to be endless.  No matter how long I walked, more houses I would find.  I thought about turning around but as I did I noticed the houses in which I just past had vanished with new different houses taken root in their place.  The people too.  

I continued to stroll down the street when I happened to come upon a shiny gem just lying on the ground.  As I picked up the gem I selfishly thought to myself "Who would throw such a gem away? Who would leave such a thing just lying here?".  I stuffed the purple gem into my pocket and continued on.  A short time later I came upon another gem, this time a bit smaller with a more bluish tone.  I picked this new one up and stuck it in my pocket as well.  It wasn't long before I started finding these rare gems almost every step.  I couldn't pick them all up, I didn't have any more room in my pockets.  I looked around and started putting the more colourful ones in my pockets replacing any that I felt weren't good enough.

I continued to walk down the street, stepping over a blue gem here, a red one there until I came upon an oddly familiar house.  Unlike the countless houses I had passed, which I might add had a somewhat reminiscent feel to them, this house stuck out like a sore thumb.  It was a near-perfect resemblance to the house I grew up in.  Even the car in the driveway matched my fathers old Ford, right down to the rust.  I then started to notice another familiar house, and another, and so on.  As I walked things started to become a little clearer, the people I saw started to remind of the people I'd once met. Then it hit me.

The houses were places I've visited.  The people were people I had known.  The gems.  The gems were my memories.  I was the one who carelessly toss them aside.  I was the one who left them lying around.  

The sign on the street read : Nostalgia Lane.

Hello?!?

It would seem I've been busy trying to find some friends.  I actually found one.  Beer.  Apparently I really enjoy hanging out with Beer.  Beer has introduced me to a lot of his friends, also call Beer.  It would seem that every time I find my friend Beer empty and alone, one of his buddies comes and keeps me company.

Not that anyone would ever know who I am if they saw me at say, Jerseys on Yonge St. But if for whatever magical reason you blurt out "MAGU" and I answer, feel free to introduce me one of your Beer friends.  I think we'd get along.

Note to self -- Time to find friends that are not Beer.

Magu

Passionate

What am I passionate about?

I'm not sure these days.  I once was passionate about so many things ranging from simple to extreme.  I remember spending an entire summer just playing video games as if life didn't matter.  I wasn't just playing video games because I was addicted, I was playing them because I was passionate about them.  It was a part of my life.  I would talk about them, dive deep into the backgrounds of them.  I wanted to learn how they were made, what made someone make them, who played them, how they played them.  I wanted to learn everything.

Now, I can maybe play a game for an hour before I find the need to do something else.  I don't really care why the game exists, who made it, why they made it.  I'm just playing it for fun.  The passion of video games has left me.

I once was passionate about hockey.  I would play hockey, watch hockey, sleep hockey, eat hockey.  I loved my team (The Leafs) and would put aside nights with my girlfriends so that I could watch the game.  I'd grab a case of beer and watch the game trying not to miss a single play.

Now, I'm lucky if I give a crap about watching any hockey, let alone my team.  I'll tell myself "Shit, leafs play tonight, gonna watch it" and I end up reading news or something on the Internet.  I'm not sure if it is because the leafs suck or if I've lost the passion.  I'm pretty sure I've lost the passion.

Puzzles, Book, Travel, *anything*.. Seems I've lost the passion.

Then I realize something.  I only have passion for anything when I have someone to share it with.  I haven't lost the passion, I've lost my ability to enjoy things alone.

I guess it's time to find some friends.

Magu