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Offline Bastet

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Interference Patterns
« on: Sep13-2010, 23:07:12 »
Collaborative writing by Bastet and Kithid




Image by Kithid

Interference Patterns

Part I



Scolluzer VII - M2 - Federation Navy Logistic Support Hangar #41 Video Logs
Month 11, Day 24 - 0100 - Scully HQ Flight Hangar


The video log flickered on. An expansive flight hangar came into view, a few dozen work crews were spread amongst a dozen frigate class vessels under maintenance. The 100 meter ceiling was scaled by a few levels of catwalks erected to reach all heights of the frigate vessels. Amidst all this, utility vehicles crawled along, emitting warning sounds as they hauled personnel and cargo along traffic lanes. Contrasting heavily amidst the green undertones of Gallente steel permeating the hangar deck was a tall imposing banner laying claim to the flight deck. Black. Silver. And orange.  Abyssal black banner, a ruby-eyed silver skull enveloped by spewing orange flames.

An invisible hand shifted the multi-camera recording to a woman standing near the center of the flight hangar - in a tight fitting Black Company flight suit, embellished black with red highlights and orange bands. Chevrons being clearly laid out and well defined on her flight jackets shoulders - completing the authoritarian figures outfit along with the thick bound black leather boots. A pin, bearing similar markings to the banner, hung tightly off the collar. Those pins, Soul-catchers pins, weren’t worn on active flight status as to not lose them. In other words, The Company’s 1st Sergeant wasn't flying anywhere tonight.

From this angle one of the work crews could be seen standing on a nearby Rifter looming in the backround about 3 stories tall; they were fidgeting with a large gun longer than all of them combined. A utility vehicle chugged slowly across the deck, warning lights spinning around. The green hued steel was scarred with signs of work on the hangar floor, stained steel, gouged marks, patches of lubricant having sprayed out. A glistening dark Anathema pulls in from the stations docking tunnels - far in the background of the video footage. A man hollering bursts out on the audio feed - resonating across the flight hangar stretching 100 meters behind. The Master Sergeant was chewing out some base-lining tech head that FUBARed the optimization on his Retrievers mining lasers. MSGT Matty was an aggressive distant figure in the image and the technician seemed ready to run for cover.  Didn't sound like it was going to end well.

The video feed distorts - time-lapsed forward. Scanning...

The 1st Sergeants crimson-haired figure jittered, shifted and turned in the fast-forward scan, moving around in hyper fast speed, making minutes into seconds. The video slowed down. The 1st stood steady suddenly - still monitoring the organized chaos on the flight deck around her. A few of the Company Brothers could now be seen in their flight suits on call drinking from coffee mugs. They were ready for capsule immersion when needed - but for now shooting the shit - their cyber-jacks in the back of the neck, only a couple months old, being very evident of their status.

Her red cybernetic eyes twitch, ocular implants catching some motion perhaps otherwise unnoticed, and she turned briskly to the side, watching Kithid walking up to her. He was still mopping up some of the ectoplasm from his capsule with a rag.

A hand raises up, a small discreet object in Kithid's grasp, his mouth moves as he starts to talk - inaudible.

A stream of letters appears across the video footage suddenly.

~# _ AUDIO LOG DELETED
AUTHORIZATION CODE : 2,|o.<JOK^hy"* // oIiQwsrrarPtkBdnFeOUFQ==




- Neural Log of Kithid Stark -
Month 11, Day 23 2134 - Scolluzer System


The "Panther" sat there in space, hidden from all sensors, listening. The familiar sounds of the probes sensor data pinged into view on the solar map. The Covert Ops frigate Anathema, as the Amarrians called them, tall like a twenty level high ground structure, draped in silver plating and black metal. Inside the hydrostatic capsule floated Kithid almost motionless, his body stirred slightly in the diffused light of the capsules fluid.

Kithid was adjusting the scanners sensors, the trans-neural interface rendered up the view of the solar system before his minds eye, the projected paths was showing him all the familiar celestial objects in their orbits in local space. With a single thought he moved all the probes into position for a broad scan, slinging their projections to their destinations, like balls in a game of hoops on the hangar deck.

The view flickered with lights and he saw something he couldn't believe. "What the hell..." he whispered. Was it a sensor glitch? He could have sworn he saw thermal and explosive signatures. He launched a sixth probe and adjusted their positions, quickly optimizing the scan range trying to get a fix on its location. "There!" his body moving in the fluids. Quickly adjusting the probes variables to compensate. "Just a little more...", he moved the probes closer, homing in on the signature. "Got you!" his body jerking with excitement inside the capsule.

He had homed in on a wreckage of an unfamiliar design, at least for this part of the galaxy. Scans indicated no further contacts. He was cloaked anyway, but always weary. The torn edges of the wreck was still glowing red hot from the explosions and fires. Nothing much to salvage there he thought. Close scans revealed a faint energy signature, a computer core still had power but fading. He quickly activated the data analyzers and decryption modules, there was no time to waste. With only one or two seconds to spare he got whatever was stored in there. A data core, quite heavily encrypted, but there was bound to be something of interest on it.

The daily sweep of the system was done, Kithid returned to the Company HQ hangar deck. As the ships autopilot guided him into the corporate hanger floor, he could see crews of technicians working on a Rifter far below. People moving around on the flight deck like little ants. The ship came to rest and powered down. The capsule extracted from the ship.

Fluids were still draining out from the capsule as Kithid exited the pod. A pod maintenance technician stared in surprise at him as he comes out still dripping with fluids. “Have you seen 1st?!” Kithid asked him. The tech answered that she was probably on the flight deck. Kithid gave the tech a slimy wet slap on the shoulder, smiled and ran off onto the hangar floor. Kithid walked across the hangar floor, nodding and greeting a few of the Brothers on the way. He spotted 1st on the flight deck and approached him clenching a small object in his hand while still mopping up as much of the capsule fluids as he could.

1st stood there looking neat and tidy as she always did. He could see in her red eyes as he came up to her, he should have cleaned up first. But as he raised his hand displaying the small object, her expression changed into curiosity.

He said to her in a low yet excited voice, “You can not believe what I just found, you have to see this now.”.


TO BE CONTINUED
« Last Edit: Jan01-1970, 00:00:00 by Bastet »

Offline Tekerton

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Re: Interference Patterns
« Reply #1 on: Sep15-2010, 03:14:37 »

 :yh: :obf:




Great artwork, intriguing story.   

Offline Tiger

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Re: Interference Patterns
« Reply #2 on: Sep15-2010, 06:29:19 »
Outstanding. Puts my work to shame, and then some. And then some more.

Offline Bastet

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  • Only the dead have seen the end of war. ~Plato
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Re: Interference Patterns
« Reply #3 on: Sep16-2010, 17:20:02 »
Writers like to see comments... reminds them you're viewing stuff.

That goes for everyones stuff that goes up here!

Whether you Love it or hate it... Support your writers.

Offline Bastet

  • 8156
  • Only the dead have seen the end of war. ~Plato
  • *
  • Division: Infantry
  • Full Colors: MAY20-2008
  • UTC Modifier: -4
Re: Interference Patterns
« Reply #4 on: Sep17-2010, 18:11:35 »
Kithid and I were hoping to release this once a week.

This week we'll be delaying due to another TBC creative project that needs to get done by Tuesday.

Will update soon.