NationStates Jolt Archive

"Marauder, you are clear to land."

"Prowler squadron six, your patrol waypoints have been updated, confirm."

"Base, this is Prowler Squadron Six lead, update confirmed."

"Transport, your vector and speed are off, please abort and re-approach."

"Marauder to base, we are on final landing approach."

"Roger that Marauder, hangar bay doors open -- welcome home."

"You owe me some currency pledges, lieutenant... fragged, bagged, and gagged, all in a solar day..."

This was normal comms traffic around a Peacekeeper Command Carrier as the behemoth casually cruised through space at sublight velocities, orbiting the planet below. Enormous, and with upwards of 50,000 men, women and even children aboard, the Command Carrier was a veritable floating city, with some of its crew living aboard for their entire lives. As with any city, at any time of day it was a hub of activity, with ships coming and going, constant patrols by Prowlers and Marauders flying in and out, people arriving or departing for other assignments. Comms traffic was almost deafening, as various ships communicated with each other and their base regarding various different subjects -- some work related, some not.

At the moment the dark hull of the Command Carrier was bathed in the warm, orange glow of a red giant star. A dying system, with only a few planets left with no chance of supporting life anymore. There had been a Sebacean colony here, thousands of cycles ago, before the star had expanded to its present size, but no longer. This Command Carrier had been stationed in the system to oversee an archaeological expedition to one of the roasted planets. It seemed quite likely that something of importance was thought to be buried on the dead world. Nothing else would have warranted the attentions of a full Command Carrier presence.

Transports moved between the planet and the Command Carrier regularly, carrying personnel, supplies, artifacts and the like between them. It was a particularly busy time for this Carrier and its crew.

The planet's surface was comparatively peaceful, though it was still bustling. Although the planet still had a weak atmosphere, the heat was simply too much for the Sebaceans -- they all wore atmosphere suits regardless. It was a dusty world, with very little evidence that anybody had lived here before. The researchers had found a particularly large outcropping of man-made rubble, and were focusing their dig there. Trenches had been dug all over the site, and sections of wall foundations had been uncovered. Still, nothing of value. Nothing to warrant having a Command Carrier in orbit at least.

The archaeologists kept digging, though. More of them could be found beneath the soil, down an opening that had been uncovered. Underground bunkers and catacombs riddled the whole area, and they seemed particularly interested in those. Why Commandos were needed to guard an archaeological dig was also unclear, but they stood vigil over each section of the site, apparently on edge from something. The digging continued...

The 'catacombs', as they had been nicknamed, weren't pleasant places to be. The air was stale and dry, and in the darkness and confined space it was easy for some to panic and breathe heavily. The only sounds to be heard were those of laser burrowers buzzing as they cleared away rock and soil to unveil whatever man-made objects may lie beneath. That, and an eerie groaning sound, which had been purportedly dismissed as simply the wind blasting against the entrances to the catacombs. Techs had been sent down from the Command Carrier to install lighting and power to the underground areas, but it was taking some time to illuminate it all, and the Captain had no interest in delaying the excavation so that the archaeologists could wait for lights.

Jaeralis found it particularly difficult to breathe as his laser burrower scorched away soil. The smell was intolerable, and with no movement of air through the damp tunnels, it didn't go away. He sighed and sat back against the wall, wiping his brow. This far underground it was cool enough to work without the confines of an atmosphere suit, but it was still too hot for most people's tastes. Plastered in sweat and dirt, Jaeralis was not a happy scientist.

And so far, he had found nothing. He didn't even know what they were down here to find, so he had no idea what to look out for. Aside from a few tablets, useless old datapads and assorted other artifacts, none of which he presumed the military would be interested in, he had found nothing of interest. To his knowledge, nobody in the entire site had found anything either, and yet they were still ordered to continue excavating. What Peacekeeper Command was so interested in boggled him. Even if there was any weapons technology down here, it would be ancient Sebacean technology -- nothing compared to that which the Command Carrier above utilised. But, he couldn't think of anything else they would want from this place.

He grumbled and leaned forwards again, aiming his laser burrower back down at the small lump he had found. Perhaps there would be something useful underneath it, or at least something to put in a museum.

He shot upright as he heard something. The groan that seemed to continuously flood the catacombs suddenly grew louder for a microt, and then ceased. He reached down and unholstered his pulse pistol, shaking as he raised it. Wide-eyed, he tried desperately to see into the darkness beyond the light of his torch, but he couldn't make anything out. He span around as he heard something that sounded worryingly like a snarl, and then back around as a similar sound came from the opposite direction.

"W... who's there?" he asked timidly. No answer. Total silence. Sometimes, an absence of an enemy was more terrifying than a fully-visible enemy. He activated the comms on his chest. "Is anybody near sector 17, sublevel 3?"

Static.

He gulped, spinning around once more as the sound came from behind him. As he turned again, he screamed. His torch dimmed and went dead. The tunnel was illuminated by red pulse fire as he wildly shot at something that lurked in the darkness. The pulse fire stopped, followed by a short, muffled scream, and the sound of cracking bones and tearing flesh. Several microts later, the torch slowly re-activated. In a deep pool of blood lay a mutilated corpse, most of its flesh stripped from the bones. After a period of silence, the deep groaning began again.

Captain Relar Haays was not a great fan of Peacekeeper decor. The dark grey walls with bright red and white emblems was gaudy and painful for the eye. He had attempted to keep his main office covered with dark red drapes, only placing a Peacekeeper flag at the 'head' of the office, directly behind his desk. It was not perfect, but it was better than most.

He spent quite a great deal of time in here as of late. Babysitting a bunch of scientists was boring at the best of times, but when they were stationed on a planet, it was worse. And when they found nothing that they had been ordered to find, it was particularly irritating. Captain Haays was tempted to send one of his Officers down there and 'expedite' matters. But High Command wanted them to find the frelling thing on their own, whatever it was. Until then, there was nothing for a Captain to do but sign forms and discipline officers.

"Captain," Lieutenant Relins deep female voice cut through his musings like a knife through butter. "Response from High Command, sir."

"By all means, bring it to me," Haays sighed, holding out his hand. Relins nodded and walked brisky toward his desk, gently depositing a vidchip in the palm of his hand.

"Will that be all, sir?" she asked, standing to attention once again. Presumably, she had some ideas for 'recreation'. Haays wasn't in the mood.

"Yes, dismissed Lieutenant," he nodded, waving his hand in irritation. He watched from the corner of his eye as the woman turned and left his office, sealing the door behind her. He reached forward and dropped the vidchip in a slot on his desk, and sat back in his chair. A hologram of a high-ranking Admiral appeared, glaring into space.

"Captain Relar Haays, commanding officer of the Command Carrier Zelbinian," the hologram spoke, thanks to the aid of speakers dotted throughout the room. "Your request for reassignment of the Zelbinian has been received, and has been denied. Operation Recovery is of grave importance, and a partial Command Carrier presence is insufficient. A full Command Carrier presence must be maintained at all times until recovery is complete. Exact details of the Operation are still classified, and despite your protests we cannot divulge the specifics at this point. Further dispute of your orders will not be tolerated, and may result in disciplinary actions."

The hologram faded, without so much as a goodbye or good luck. Haays leaned forward and put his head in his hands, sighing. He had submitted a perfectly conceived strategy for maintaining a partial Command Carrier presence, which would not diminish the capabilities of the project in the slightest and yet would allow for the Zelbinian to use its capabilities to much greater effect elsewhere, as well as allowing the crew some shore leave. And still, High Command had rejected it. Whatever this Operation Recovery involved was obviously more important than they were letting on.

Haays pulled the vidchip from its slot and smashed it to pieces on his glossy desk, growling miserably. It looked like they were going to be stuck here for some time.

Fate is often a cruel bitch of a mistress; a troublesome, mischevious factor that few count upon. Especially in the stages of testing a drive meant to allow travel through and across the limits of the Nether. Often, fate will taunt, tease and malign us, only to reveal the truest of intentions by the end.

The vessel that rent into the fabric of the world was the first an dlast of it's kind; Icecrown, the supreme battlecarrier of the Scourge; a vast fortress of indomitable might; a hovering engine of undeath. Upon a frozen throne, Ner'zhul sat, observing the warm, scouring glow of the red star; reminded, for a moment of Draenor; before other memories swam into place; those of red sunsets across the mountains of Lordaeron. They were one now; Death Knight and Lich King. Arthas and Ner'zhul, locked together as a singular entity.

"My Lord, we have confirmed the presence of ruins and catacombs beneath the surface of the world; perhaps here would be a fitting place to bolster our ranks before we continue?"

A gesture waved the Acolyte away. His mind had already informed his troops; a Death Knight and it's fiendish entourage would be deployed to scout the world; and find what lay beneath the cold earth. The shadow of the Command Carrier cast their efforts in harsh relief.

It would be amusing to have such contact amongst the Great Blackness.

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OOC: Sorry, I didn't have auto-subscribe active when I posted this, and it just dropped from my memory. I intend to get back to it soon, possibly this weekend.