Ashes of the Earth

By Calum Morton

My name is Ethan Briarson.

My name is Ethan Briarson and I am a survivor.

My name is Ethan Briarson and I am a survivor of the Undoing, the event which devastated most of the Earth. 

Of a population close to ten billion less than ten million likely remain. But none of that matters to me. Not today, not yesterday and I sure as hell won’t care come tomorrow. All that matters to me is finding food, shelter and enough filters for my gas mask. It isn’t safe to travel on the surface without one anymore because the Undoing threw so much ash and a poisonous dust into the atmosphere. Some of the older people say that the dust is radioactive and maybe they’re right. Doesn’t really matter in the long run, all I know is it kills you slowly if you don’t have a mask on. People call it the lurgie, it kills your lungs and eventually you just drop dead.

I live in what’s left of the United States of America. Most of the country is a wasteland but there are some pockets of organised civilised people still clinging to life in this hellish nightmare of a land, in the deserts under the burning sun and in the mountains to the west and even in the swamps of the south. Life goes on, it always does, sure the world ended, but life, well, you’ll never snuff out everyone. People are just too stubborn.

But enough about that, I’m sure you’re dying to know what I’m doing lying in an old highway drainage ditch with the stench of filthy, poisoned water filling my nose and a whole heap of shit going on just above me on the highway proper. Well I’ll tell you what’s going on! Mogs, that’s what! 'Mogs' is short for Mogazi, they’re like us humans but they’re mutated and less intelligent than your average human. Trouble is that they’re stronger than us and they hunt in packs. Shit! Where did I put my gun…ah, there it is.

Okay, sorry, where were we? Right, right, Mogs! So I was minding my own business travelling north to Dee Cee when I see this huge plume of dust and smoke coming from the south, probably from Fredericksberg, and I think to myself “Ethan, get your ass of the highway right now or you’re dead meat.” So I throw myself into this ditch and not a minute later I hear the engines roaring as this pack of Mogs hares past but they must have spotted something on the road near me that took their fancy and now I’ve been here for an hour and they haven’t gone anywhere. I’m so fucked! Okay, come on Ethan, calm down. They don’t know you’re here and even so, maybe they aren’t hungry? Oh shit who am I kidding? Mogs are ALWAYS hungry! 

Arcturian - Pt. 4

Read part one here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/arcturian-chapter-1.html

Read part two here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/arcturian-pt-2.html

Read part three here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/arcturian-pt-3.html

By Calum Morton

Blasts of pure energy spewed forth from gun pits and cannons and spread out lazily across the gulf of space. The ships that tumbled and twisted around the space station at Tau Beta. Markus Sillassus swung about the controls and bore down upon a pirate scout ship he waited a few seconds; sure enough, there were the blue-purple blasts of the Arcturian's Pulse Laser Cannons. Some shots were dispersed by the pirate vessels’ energy shields but more went through and tore holes in her hull. Fire blossomed out of the ruptures as internal blasts ripped the small ship apart. Danm good shot, Seb thought Markus, as he heaved on the controls and fell into formation behind the Taurus.

“Captain Odan, what’s our next target?” Markus asked over the secure comm channel.

“The rebel pirate fleet is being commanded from a Polaris class heavy cruiser sitting just outside of the orbit of the station and well out of the way of the battle. I want to punch a hole through the rebel squadrons and lead a force against that cruiser. All available ships form up on me and follow my lead!” The reply came over open channels to all confederacy ships in the battle. A beam of purple light flicked across from a pirate vessel and struck a Confederacy Vespa class destroyer. The beam raked across the hull of the ship and flame billowed out of the rent in the ship’s flank. The destroyer returned a fire with a volley of missiles and three large ion blasts. The pirate ship disappeared in a cloud of fire and debris as she was instantaneously torn apart. Markus flicked a switch on the control panel in front of him and locked on to a rebel star fighter just ahead and port of him. He pressed a button and watched a missile streak towards the small craft. One flash of light later and the fighter was no more. Somehow this just doesn’t feel right thought Markus as he adjusted his flight path to follow the Taurus. A drifting hulk briefly obscured his view of the rest of the battle as he arced over its’ port bow. The floating wreck was so damaged he couldn’t even tell what side of the battle it belonged to.

A few minutes later they saw it, the rebel’s capital ship. The great Polaris class sat fat and wide just outside of the main battle and occasionally fired on a ship that dared to fly too close. That thing was built like a floating fortress and armed to the teeth with a nasty array of weaponry, from miniature tactical nuclear missiles, to plasma burst cannons, and even x-ray lasers: invisible yet devastating new weapons which could pass straight through shields and hull alike to cook a ships’ crew where they stood. Markus gunned the engines and followed the rest of the motley squadron who were headed straight for it.

Down in weapons Seb held his fire until he saw an opportunity to exploit a weakness in his enemy’s defence. As a bot he had a knack for calculating the best possible moment to strike so he sat, finger on the trigger, waiting…

Arcturian - Pt. 3

Read part one here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/arcturian-chapter-1.html

Read part two here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/arcturian-pt-2.html

By Calum Morton

On board the bridge of the Taurus Captain Nezzarr Odan listened to a report from his sensors and weapons officer Ensign Kross. Odan couldn’t stand Kross, son of a wealthy Confederacy diplomat, because he was about as useless as a damp box of matches.

“I see, ensign, I see,” said Odan nodding at Kross as he acknowledged that the ship they hunted was headed for Tau Beta Station. Tau Beta was a large space station on the fringes of Confederacy territory, that sat as a garrison to guard the borders against rebel and pirate held space near a large nebula. It seemed that Captain Silassus might well be meeting contacts in the rebellion. Not that it mattered to Nezzarr Odan; his job was simple: arrest Silassus and impound his ship and cargo pending further investigation on numerous felonies and crimes across the known (and probably unknown) parts of the galaxy. “Continue to stay in their blind spot and follow them, we’ll arrest them at Tau Beta Station,” ordered Captain Odan before retiring to the captain’s chair. They would be dropping out of Jump Space soon and he would need to be ready to react to any tricks Silassus might play.

----

Markus Silassus awoke to the sound of an alarm chirping. The control panel told him that the navi-comp would be dropping the ship out of Jump Space momentarily. He sat up and hit the ship coms button to broadcast to the crew.

“Okay, we’re coming out of Jump Space so buckle up! Seb, I want you to get down to weapons and be ready, warm up the pulse lasers and raise the shields to full. I don’t want to drop out right into the middle of a pirate raid and get caught with my trousers around my ankles! Devin, heat up the Ion Drive and make sure we’re ready if we need to make some evasive manoeuvres.” There, that should do it, not that there’s likely to be any pirates, we’d have received a distress signal, thought Markus.

The ship jumped and bucked as the Jump Drive hurled the Arcturian back into real space. Markus’ face was illuminated by the bright flashes of laser beams, plasma blasts and the flaring jets of flame created by explosive decompression and missile hits. Well shit, I certainly wasn’t expecting there to actually BE a pirate raid going on! Markus quickly hit the comm panel and spoke his orders. “Seb, I’m going to hail the station, try and find out what the heck is going on out there” Keep those shields at full but do not engage! Devin, hold on tight this is going to get interesting!”

“Define interesting,” Devin replied through his wrist comm with evident concern in his voice.

“Uh, oh god, oh god we’re all going to die?” replied Markus.

“Probability of survival remains at a steady 78.65 per cent, Captain.” Of course Seb would have to chip in, he always did!

A new light blinked on the instrument panel: someone was hailing the Arcturian. Surely it couldn’t be the station, not this quickly. It wasn’t. Markus answered the hail.

“Captain Markus Silassus of the Blazing Arcturian?” A terse, authoritative voice came over the speaker. Only confederacy officers speak like that. Shit.

“Speaking, who are you and what do you want?” replied Markus, an edge now set to his voice.

“I am Captain Nezzarr Odan of the Confederacy Light Interceptor Taurus. I was under orders to arrest you but it appears that a situation has developed which is rather more…pressing.” The voice showed almost no emotion and had an almost imperceptible French accent. That’s a new one.

“Yeah? I hadn’t noticed. What do you want me to do about it? I ain’t a hero, Captain.” I don’t have time for this, Markus thought as he played for time.

“Well, today is your chance to prove you are loyal to the Confederacy and not the kind of rebel scum who you were supplying on Procturus.” The voice sounded as if its owner was smiling, the kind of smile that a predator gives to prey that it has trapped in a net. Dammit.

“What did you have in mind, Captain Odan?” Markus hoped that the fear wouldn’t show in his voice; he’d been through worse, after all, and so had the Arcturian.

“I intend to get into that fight and rescue as many civilians a possible, as is my duty and as should yours be too.” The voice had just a hint of anger in it now. Well, I guess I don’t really have a choice, die fighting, or get arrested; Markus flipped the mute mic button.

“Okay, we’re going in there and I know you both heard all of that. Just play cool and we’ll come out of this just fine.” Markus hoped that they couldn’t hear the concern in his voice as he flipped the button once again. “Okay then Captain, we’ll follow you in. We wouldn’t dream of running away from such a good, just fight.” Markus’ cocky voice swept over the ears of the crew of the Taurus.

“Full ahead Lieutenant Darmstor, we have a battle to join!” boomed captain Odan from his chair as the lights of battle grew ever closer like a fireworks display on a summer’s night. Danger awaited but it was his duty to protect the citizens of the confederacy. He read the signature of the Arcturian behind him and knew that Silassus would stay true to his word.

Arcturian - Pt. 2

Read part one here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/arcturian-chapter-1.html

By Calum Morton

Calm fell over the Blazing Arcturian as she settled into the ethereal paths of Jump Space and all aboard her relaxed.

“Seb? Seb!?” yelled Markus, “Where is that blasted bucket of bolts?” He spoke to the still air of the ships’ flight deck.

“Over here, sir.” a grating voice, like a lead pipe on a washboard reached Markus’ ears. “In the cargo hold making everything secure, sir,” the voice continued. The voice belonged to S.E.B, Markus’ Security and Engineering Bot purchased on Pleoras nearly seven years ago. Seb’s casing was a bronze colour. He had a humanoid head and torso with two arms, at the base of his torso were a pair of miniature caterpillar tracks which proved an excellent means of locomotion.

“Get down to the engine room; Devin might need some help.” Markus said to the bot as he casually stepped into the cargo hold, his voice echoing across its cavernous volume. He liked Seb - good bot, been useful to him many times over the years. “We’re safely into Jump Space and aren’t due out at Tau Beta for another few hours so I’m gonna take a nap up on the flight deck.” Markus concluded patting the bot on the back of his torso casing before swaggering back out of the hold.

“Aye captain, I shall render Master Devin what assistance I can,” he chirped, before trundling off to the engine room. Those tracks really did come in handy sometimes; Seb wasn’t too bad for a bit of heavy lifting either. I really ought to give him a run down just to make sure that second hand circuit board is still running, maybe when we get to Tau Beta.

Seb trundled into the engine room and allowed his photo-receptors to focus on the immobile form of Devin. Seb’s logic circuits fired up as he calculated the likely causes of Devin’s condition. Jump Space shock seemed likely. Seb rolled up to Devin and shook him with one of his manipulator arms. Devin stirred and sat up, reaching for his flask of Saurin Brandy. That ought to settle his nerves, thought Seb.

“Ah! Oh, Seb, it’s just you…you gave me quite a start!” The small Agravian rose to his feet as he conversed with the mechanoid.

“The captain sent me to assist you; did we sustain any damage during that last run?” The grating voice of the robot asked, though as Seb had no mouth the sound seemed to project from his chest.

“Yeah Seb, I had to do a re-route, we’ll probably need to clean out the radiation filters again and might even need to do a shake down just to make sure we don’t get a blow-through next time we hit atmosphere,” replied Devin as he turned to his tool kit and picked up his favourite spanner. Better get to work, he though, it was going to be a long journey.

Back on the bridge, Markus Silassus settled into the pilot’s chair and began to doze, somehow, through years of flying; he managed to fall asleep with one eye on the instruments panel. Nothing got past Markus Silassus.

But this ship wasn’t going past him. It followed just far enough back in the Arcturian’s exhaust wake that it was shrouded from all sensor probing. The Confederacy Light Interceptor Taurus kept a steady speed and followed the Arcturian on into the black and blue of the almost ethereal Jump Space.

Arcturian - Pt. 1

By Calum Morton

One more job, they said. It’ll be easy, they said. Markus Silassus was beginning to regret taking on this run. Far too much hassle for far too little pay; he really should have known better but times were hard, especially with the confederacy on his back in almost every quadrant. Ferrying supplies and several highly illegal shipments of pulse blasters to rebels on the near moon of Procturus One was not his best idea yet. Damn, that one was too close the smuggler thought as a plasma blast evaporated just off his starboard bow.

“Devin, get down to the engine room and give us more thrust. Re-route the…”

“The drive line directly into the tachyon chamber, yeah yeah,” parroted Devin, Markus’ trusty Agravian mechanic. Devin was a perfect specimen of his species, slight, sharp eyed and clever with his hands. His green scaled skin reflected the red glow of the emergency lights which now illuminated the corridors inside the Blazing Arcturian, his ship, home, life and source of most of his woes. May the elders smile upon me now, Devin thought as he ducked into the confined engine room. The deck bucked and heaved as another blast landed just shy of the ships energy reflector shield. More thrust, huh, I’ll give you more thrust you crazy fool. Devin slid the drive plate loose and began his work. He tapped his wrist communicator and spoke.

“Re-routing now, things might get a little bumpy but we should get clear of atmosphere.” His voice was raspy in the cockpit but Markus heard him well enough.

“Punch it Devin – we’ve only got one shot at this,” replied Markus, still wrestling with the controls as he weaved through incoming fire. Couldn’t be a moment too soon, I’m getting sick of dodging these plasma blasts Markus mused as he felt the ship judder then surge as Devin made the connection and the ship achieved its highest, if slightly unsafe, atmospheric velocity. Markus heaved on the controls and sent the ship into a tight spinning arc as he made a break for space and the great black beyond. Just a couple more seconds and they’d be clear of atmosphere and able to use the Arcturian’s Jump Drive. Suddenly the rumble of air rushing past the cockpit was gone as the ship hit vacuum.

“Devin, hold onto your tail, I’m activating the Jump Drive now!” Markus barked into the ship communicator. Down in the engine room Devin clutched tightly to a plasteel stanchion as the world blurred and lurched around him. His head span and he closed his eyes, hoping to alleviate the feeling of nausea caused by the leap into Jump Space. The inside of the Blazing Arcturian creaked and bellowed as it suffered under the stress exerted by the powerful Jump Engines. But she held, she always did…

----

GUEST WORK! So if you have any comments, please send 'em along to Calum so he can incorporate it into his next exciting chapter!

Because hell yeah

http://www.alternatehistory.com/discussion/showthread.php?t=260638

Over on the Alternate History forums someone's been silly. I better emphasise their point with this photograph:

The Academy - pt. 3

Part one here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/the-academy.html

Part two here: http://swanindustries.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/the-academy-pt-2.html

By Rachel Vaughan

Dazed, Willow struggled out of bed to answer the the manic thrashing that was crashing against her dorm's door. Voices were muffled, but from the sound of it, the girls were all panicked. Almost instantly she knew what this would be about: the death of the dorm's maid.

"Willow, Annabel! It's happened again. Oh my god, get out here now. Hurry!" The startled voice belonged to Haidee Baylis. Willow flung open the door. The cold air that entered with the gust forced her to wrap her arms tightly around her. Haidee's face was flushed pink, her doughy brown eyes watering and fixed open in shock.

"Anya is dead. Lucy saw paramedics pushing her out of the dorm. She was completely covered in a white sheet but the blood was still seeping through. Why is this happening!" By this time Annabel had woken up too, and walked over. She embraced the scared girl in her arms, pulling her weak body into her own, offering words of comfort and soothing her with her calming voice. Willow couldn't help but feel nothing but guilt; it swept over her like a giant wave, completely washing away her mind's thoughts and replacing them with memories she couldn't bare to replay.

"I'm sure it wont happen again..." Willow lied through her teeth.

*

Willow and Annabel walked across the campus towards the Academy, along with the other female students from their dormitory, and the many boys from across the courtyard. It was a sea of white blazers trimmed with red piping, long white stockings covering legs in the chilly autumn air. Despite it being morning, the sky was still dark, its hue more of a deep blue opposed to the dark black of night. It was always dark here. The day's light lasted no more than nine hours; even fewer in the depths of the harsh winter. Burnt-looking leaves fell from the trees that lined the courtyard, and the sea green water from the white stone fountain in the centre looked dark and oily in the dim light. The carved stone faces stared with anxious eyes; their longing expressions seeming cold and withheld. It was the same look many of the students possessed - fear.

The Academy was a large building, well over 400 years old and dotted with watch towers and turrets. It looked its age for sure - even the fourth replacement of the large cast iron gates were now beginning to rust. Large stone walls stood high and surrounded the Academy; the tall oaks lining the stone stripping their leaves and creating a bed of crisp orange on the gravel below. Grey cloud smeared across the sky, and the chilled morning wind ripped through the crowd and hurriedly pushed students into the Academy.

"Everyone seems more reserved today, don't you think?" Annabel muttered. Her fluffy brown hair flew back in the wind, displaying her rosy red cheeks that shone like ripe apples in the cold air.

"Yes. You know why though. Everyone's scared and I dont blame them. Whoever the killer is deserves the fate they're dishing out." Willow scowled. Her own words cut her deep - after all, she was the one who caused the mass uproar. But then the glum atmosphere changed - voices became whispers and bundles of female students banded together in the courtyard. Smiles were plastered onto their chill-bitten faces and the way the crowd split reminded Willow of Moses' Parting of the Waves. Girlish giggles rose from the crowds, the kind that only emerged when a sighting of the opposite sex appeared. Taking Willow by the wrist, Annabel pulled her through the crowd, pushing past disgruntled female students until they were both standing at the front of the mass. Of course, the subject of so many girls interest could have been nobody else. It was Beau Aderson, accompanied by Alexander Axon and Cyr McIlwraith. All three boys stood like towering beacons of light. Their eyes were bright and crystalline, their skin pale and flawless. Beau's natural white hair seemed to repel the darkness, the pure strands falling into his eyes and obscuring his perfect bone structure. He stood tall and lean, one of his hands inserted into his trouser pockets, flipping one side of his blazer back and presenting his slim fitting shirt. Just glimpsing at the material hinted how his torso looked underneath the linen; toned and slender. The very vision of him was enough to send the girls at the academy insane, he was beautiful - hauntingly beautiful.

"Hello, Willow." His voice was deep but aetherial, so intriguing that it sounded almost like music. Listening to him talk had to be one of the most soothing things to hear. For a moment, Willow hadn't even acknowledged that he had just said her name.

"What? Beau, how - how do you know my name?" Willow was confused; she had never once spoken to him; she wasn't even aware that he knew who she was. Why was he acknowledging her with such a beaming smile on his face that even shone from his eyes?

"I don't understand? You mean you don't remember?" Beau looked hurt. Everyone could see his hands curl up into tight fists by his sides. Willow shook her head, her memory was her biggest flaw. Since the accident eight years ago, she remembered hardly anything at all.

Beau said nothing after that, his lips tightened and he began to turn away, hurt. Alexander and Cyr followed elegantly behind him.

"What was that all about?" Annabel whispered to Willow, taking back her wrist and heading back towards the Academy. Hundreds of pairs of jealous eyes fixed onto the two of them, irritated that Beau spoke to Willow, instead of them.

Blanketed in the warmth of the Academy and relaxed by her English tutor's voice, Willow leaned back at her desk and averted her eyes to the window. She sat at the back of the room, far from the front but nearest to the outside world. She payed little attention in class: her mind was always elsewhere. Today, however, her constant wandering mind fixed onto just one topic - Beau. She thought hard about why he looked so hurt when she admitted she did not remember him, since it was so strange - she had never once spoken to him in her entire education at the Academy. He was always the one shrouded in the students' affections and company, and he rarely spoke to anyone who did not speak to him first. He was... different. For starters he looked almost angelic compared to the other boys that attended the academy; he was elegant, and full of manners and knowledge. The way he spoke made him seem like he was from another time; his words were always so perfectly pronounced, his choice in language old and poetic.

Beau was the Academy's own personal celebrity; sought after by the entire population of female students and hated by the entire population of jealous boys.

Willow sat pondering everything about him, his past, his present and his future. She realised then, that everything she knew about him had been passed on by gossip. There was no possible way to know the things she did; it was even possible that everything she knew was not real at all. But it was strange, amongst the vast amount of possibly fake knowledge she had on him, she couldn't shake the feeling at the back of her mind that she really did know him.

"Miss Stannis." The English tutor called out, disturbing Willow's train of thought.

"Y-yes?"

"You're wanted in the headmasters office. Your uncle wishes to speak with you."

Willow swallowed hard and expected the worst. Maybe she would finally be found out after these past 2 months? She took a deep breath and rose from her seat, flattening down her skirt and exiting the room in front of an audience of 32 pairs of curious eyes.