The consequences of the past

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The consequences of the past.

From ground to air, from space to solar system, galactic expansion drove humanity and its technology to the limits thanks to the Void's limitless exploration. The Void, a term coined by our precursors, was invoked the moment humankind leapt into the deep nothing of space.

Necessity drove them to the far reaches of the Void, for failure meant extinction of the species. Survival was given only to the fittest. Those few sowed the first seeds into the Void, taking new territories and molding them into their likeness.

Even so, their most advanced technology could not explain the impetus of the coming transformation. The seeds planted before them opened the gates that surpassed the human condition, the limits of their earthbound environment.

Humankind had reached the "Unquantifiable Age".

Though their evolution had once been limited by a known horizon, in the vastness of the Void they discovered that hope wasn't the only thing waiting at the bottom of Pandora's Box.

Their true heritage had been held in chains by the gravity of a once ancestral cradle; a heritage that held more mysteries than the whole of the Void, a heritage with the potential to illuminate their existence, or a path to mute all in darkness.

For this much they will have to suffer.

Most assuredly, pain is the reality of existence.

--excerpt from, "The Listlessness of Man."

She closed the book of excerpts, a gift given to her by her mentor. So strange to hold an actual physical book in this day and age. Her finger ran over the texture of the unidentifiable leather binding. Its old, faded colors, the imprinted letters and flaking gold stenciled lettering brought back memories of a time lost to her.

Her hands trembled, a hint of exasperation and an exhale. She squeezed her hands into fists to help ease the shake.

Far more interested in the destination rather than the journey, Miranda's detached gaze rested on the vivid neon of the helm's blinking displays. None of this brought back the joy she had felt when she first took to the stars; the term had evolved from starry wonder to dismal display.

Though with every curse, a blessing is offered to offset the negative side effects, and technology brought that to life with a few keyed commands. Within moments she had activated the Real-Time Image Generation, a 360-degree holographic display that brought to life the wonders she so craved. A system made specifically to aide in navigational controls, from manual docking procedures to star mapping, was now being used to bring back some level of joy to the woman sitting in the captain's chair. Able to discern the planet which was their last destination for this mission and the supply depot that corresponded with their final wave point, she and her crew made final preparations for auto dock. She loved the RTIG system, as it gave the bridge the illusion of not being encapsulated in military grade structural alloys and ballistic armor.

She was never quite sure why this small gesture made her feel more at ease with her circumstance, but as long as she could pass the long hours watching the vastness of the Void and in turn its innumerable stars numbing her mind and keeping her from thinking too deeply, remembering too vividly.

Having entered the Disolenum solar system, the crew of the Simaloe had made a supply pick-up on Essephus, the only militarized moon within system governed by the newly independent Colonial Federalist government, with a scheduled wave point and course heading for the only habitable planet within the Disolenum system that was still held by the Old Imperial Republic: Samraum. She found it odd that a Colonial ship would be making supply runs so close to a former enemy, more over that her designated location was a Colonial owned military resupply depot in a geosynchronous orbit over the planet.

History offered the foundation to her current state of mind and the numbness that accompanied her. Then again, having to fly this particular type of ship didn't help her present circumstance.

Of all the ships in the Colonial Fleet, the Schooner class was one of the original concept designs for void travel and now one of the most prevalent ship designs in known of the void. This particular ship was a modified militarized version, an MDTSS or Military Defense Tactical Supply Ship. The large armored frame and a modular expanded cargo capacity, in conjunction with powerful void ion thrust engines and fusion gas atmospheric gravity lift engines made it a favorite not only for deep void travel but also for planetary touchdown and liftoff.

The ship lurched forward as it began its deceleration, and the RTIG view flickered due to the sudden shift in gravitational stress.

A sigh escaped her lips.

The docking process was automated. The most her crew had to do was verify the incoming cargo was in place and make sure it was securely latched. Her job boiled down to a supervisory role - verification, mostly and sometimes striking up a conversation with the on-duty supply officer.

"Well, well, well! Aren't you the brightest, shining jewel in the dark filled Void!"

As luck would have it, this was one of those times. There was a flicker of annoyance upon her features. She hated the fact that when docked, anyone at the helmsman deck of the supply depot could cue up the ship's bridge cameras. A display shot to life and a familiar face appeared on its screen.

"How long have you been watching me, Lieutenant First Class?"

She glanced up to the Video Voice Display as it came to life. She didn't have it in her to even sound playful. There was evidence of concern on the weathered features of the man on the other end.

"No more than a second or two before I piped up. You look like you've worked yourself over a few times, Miranda."

Another involuntary sigh. No matter how long she'd been in the service, no matter the rank, Lieutenant First Class Richard De'Raegon always managed to disarm her by using her civilian name. That, and the fact that he happened to be her closest friend and mentor. He disarmed her with genuine concern and familiarity.

"…it's been a very, very long week Richard. I'm ready for my month's leave and this time I'm turning everything off until I'm ready to be found."

There was a smile on his battered old face.

"Just hang in there. This isn't a glamorous assignment, but there will be benefits within a few years, I promise you."

She looked up at him and returned a warm and thankful smile. The payoff would be a job running courier assignments, which involved a smaller ship, a two man crew and most importantly to Miranda, a see-thru canopy.

Though this was a far cry from her previous duties, she was none-the-less grateful to Richard. Had it not been for him and a handful of friends in high places, she wouldn't be wearing the Colonial uniform, let alone be allowed to pilot a half billion mark ship.

"Miranda, just remember that we are here t—."

Blackness.

Like a computer rebooting from an unknown system crash, her body slowly started to register each of her five senses in successive order. First, her hearing was pierced by a high pitch howling, as her vision registered in double, slow realization that she was staring at the bridge's bulkhead. Taste and smell came next, the coppery essence of blood in her mouth. The distinct ozone smell of a fire-suppressant lingered in the air. In that flood of sensory data, the last sense came alive in the form of acute pain, hitting her addled mind like a sledgehammer.

Forcing her vision to clear was proving unproductive. The ship's interior echoed with a cacophony of warning alarms and sirens that made it impossible for her to even concentrate on such a simple task. In lieu of her inability, Miranda made a concerted effort to bring herself into a seated position.

A sudden wave of dizziness assaulted her bruised head, making it spin more aggressively. Through the blinding pain, Miranda somehow managed to grab the captain's chair and regain her footing. Having righted herself, she could see that the RTIG was raining pixelated snow across the holographic projection, creating a surreal winter landscape.

Unable to move her left arm, she struggled to key in the command sequence to reboot the holographic system into auxiliary mode. With a few manual adjustments, the holographic display started to clear from its haze.

What she saw stole her breath. An explosion had torn through the hull of the supply depot on the port side, and a gigantic plume of jet blue flame erupted with intense violence as it jettisoned into the Void. The flame itself was terrifying, but what brought the sheer terror in her eyes was the sudden burn out. The force of atmosphere venting from the breached hull had caused the entire station to spin out of geosynchronous orbit.

To complicate matters the RTIG system went back to raining snow.

Even though her ship was docked on the starboard side, the force had been so extreme that it knocked Miranda out cold. If she had docked on the aft or stern, there wouldn't have been much of a ship left to command, by the evidence of other vessels now being hurtled through the Void.

Hell had let fly and she was right in middle of it.

Smashing her fist down on the emergency command and control button, she barked out her first, pain-filled words.

"This is MDTSS vessel Alpha-Charlie-Romeo-Zulu-five-two-seven. Supply depot in wave point Six-Three-Nine has suffered a massive explosion. Repeat, Sam Delta Six-Three-Nine has suffered a massive explosion, over!"

A voice squawked back, though barely audible through the scream of alarms echoing through the ship's interior.

"This is Station Five-Niner-Five; distress signal received. Sending auxiliary support vessels, t-minus two minutes."

Even in a wartime scenario, the support personnel reaction time wouldn't have been enough to save those caught in the blast. The tremendous explosion that tore through the station had ripped with such force that it almost broke the airtight seal and the locking mechanism holding Miranda's ship to the docking couple. Damage reports were already streaming through the system, proving just how lucky she and her crew had been, and how unlucky the poor souls were on the aft and stern.

Miranda knew that she had nine minutes and fifty eight seconds. The exactness of time rang through her like a well-known church bell, even as she overrode the station's PA system.

"All personnel evacuate to dock Zero-Three. Repeat, all personnel evacuate to dock Zero-Three!"

Her fingers moved in a frantic fashion as she started to key up the VVD.

"Lieutenant! Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

Static crackled, mocking her. She could hear the stress of a bulkhead buckling from the still-active mike.

Miranda's breath became more erratic, her eyes darting from screen to screen, fingers punching commands that were irrelevant to the situation, desperate to bring back the RTIG.

"Richard! Lieutenant Richard De'Raegon can you hear me?"

A desperate and panting second mate burst into the bridge,

"What are you thinking?! We can't possibly hold that many people in our cargo hold!"

"Lieutenant Richard De'Raegon, please respond!"

Silence.

"Lieutenant Major! We can't hold that many people on ship!"

She snapped her field of vision over to her second mate, roaring her order to cut through the blast of background noise.

"Then you'd better start dumping equipment. Cram them in like sardines, soldier! That's an order!"

The RTIG blinked back to life only to display the lifeless, flash-frozen bodies of several hundred people floating rather serenely past them. Miranda would have gasped, but the shock was all too real. Even her second mate couldn't bring himself to utter a word. She noted the etched expressions on their faces, emotions forever captured in gruesome variety. If only nightmares were made of such things.

A sudden flash of light appeared, blinding Miranda for a moment. Though not as powerful as the first, the force of the secondary explosion rocked the station, sending the second mate scrambling for a handhold. The shock wave had scattered remnant remains like chaff in the wind. Turning his eyes away from the RTIG and he sprinted back down to the storage hold, tossing an expletive into the fray just to make known the futility of it all.

Miranda made a noise between a yell and a growl, as he keyed up her mic once more,

"Richard, you need to move to the docking area… please Richard answer me!"

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her throat so tightly clenched it nearly stole her ability to speak. She could hear the low groaning as the vacuum of the Void started to buckle the superstructure of the supply depot.

The VVD crackled to life,

"—randa…Mi—nda…can you hea—?"

"Richard, yes! I can hear you. You're coming a bit choppy. You need to escape, Richard to the cargo ba—."

She was interrupted rather brusquely, "Miran…isten! Sending you a fi—…"

A transfer system queued up, and started receiving a file to her personal data storage system. Miranda stared in disbelief. As the little bar counted upwards, she felt an awkward detachment,

"Richard, I'm getting your file, bu—"

"Miranda, I'm… —lood lo—… i—…save those you can, save yourse—…Miranda, I'm sorry I cou—…"

The line went dead as a third explosion shattered the connection.

Miranda could see it now, the depot station's helmsman bay completely engulfed in blue flames.

Richard being consumed by fire.

Richard was now dead.

Tears blurred her vision. She started shaking her head as if trying to will Richard back.

"This can't be it happening, no this can't be happening!"

Grief threatened to split her mind in two. She had lost the only man she every trusted aside from her biological father. A man she grew to love due to his guiding hand during the most vulnerable days of her Paradoxical military training.

Yet, in the midst of this emotional confusion, her training… no, his training started to clear the fog.

She couldn't let him down.

She couldn't cry now.

She had to save those she could.

She had to save herself.

She keyed up the ship's PA. "Thomas what's your status?"

"Skipper, we have fifty soldiers. Another twenty are injured. Sir, I-I mean Ma'am, that last explosion is causing a high density fire in the station's main crux. We can see the flames at the junction point some three hundred yards away…"

The depot held one thousand souls. The thought of so many dead or dying made her mission far more dire now, more important.

"We hold tight until the last possible moment. Release the hard lock and activate the ship's emergency locking system and deactivate the station's blast doors. Push everyone to the far end of the ship."

The shocked silence from her once-vocal second mate mirrored what she felt inside. Releasing the hard lock would only leave the soft lock in place. If so much as a solar wind hit the ship, it would be knocked loose. The emergency locking system was the only thing fast enough to close the gaping hole before it sucked everyone and everything in that room straight into the Void.

Miranda started to feel every second as they slowly ticked by. She could see her command being carried out; even see the faces of those in the cargo bay. Each face held a mixture of pain, panic, bravery and courage as some took charge and aided in the skipper's order to push everyone back and as others became obedient sheep.

The seconds ticked onward; she saw more injured, frightened men and women stumbling, running, falling all in slow motion. She witnessed some helping each other to relative safety even as others ignored anyone they crossed as their survival instinct ruled paramount.

Time had become an elastic thing to Miranda; she could see everything unfold in front of her. An understanding flooded her mind; an awareness that was on the verge of breaching omniscience.

She knew that those in the hall where the last of the remaining survivors.

She knew that they would just barely make it out alive.

She knew that while her finger was ready to execute the command to seal those blast doors, she would only have milliseconds to respond.

Time rushed back around her. Miranda, hit the emergency closure button, reacting on equal parts instinct and conscious decision.

The blast doors sealed just as one soldier made one final jump for his life, but he was too late. There was a thump, and a sudden screeching sound that traveled the length of the blast door, reminiscent of nails on a chalk board, only to be followed by the hushed abated breath, the shocked silence of those survivors witnessing one of their own meet a cruel demise. The silence was broken as the depot's hall exploded. Shrapnel slapped at the side of the ship with the most piercing of pinging sounds.

Miranda's hands were moving without thought and in an instant she ripped out of the soft seal and throttled the ship into the Void, barely leaving an inch of breadth between ship and depot as it blew itself apart.

What she couldn't have appreciated in that moment was that the thing she had spent years trying to control within herself had used her emotional instability to break through her defenses. In that moment, she had begun a countdown to the inevitable. The knot growing within her was her subconscious sending her a warning.

This time there would be no Richard to help stop it.