Sleep count: Unknown Shrouded in nostalgic fog; a dripping beacon module de-lulls me from a colossal dream-state as I stir from a cockpit seat.
From the viewglass: Elongated stars enshrouded twist amongst amorphous loops of ghastly effervescence synchrotronatedly emitting from a cylindrical smog of pulsar winds.
Skirmish Above HD 10180 h
Dials scrambled realign as a battle unfolds before my eyes. The colossal fluctuations of rippling epochs relinquished in my wake. A skirmish seethes between two factions above a glowing gas giant. I regain control just as I am in scope but tracking grids are on me.
Comms hailed in an acoustic package transmitted from a Zoergoric flagship. Cipher-Translator... //Active: "Unknown craft: Please identify. You are in quarantined void-space of the Sagittarius-Carina galactic corps. Comply immediately or we will blast you!"
| "Unworldly fog clearing from exhaust tubes" - A. Bradley |
With no knowledge of the controls, I beam back nothing. Their last fuzzed warning of alien vibrons sparks from auditory ducts. With haste I configure the overhead systems as my craft zooms towards the turmoil. And non-Euclidian structural fighters drop from their landing bay.
I maneuver towards the asteroid field and the slimy voice croaks through the verbirators. CT: "Dispatch: Target unknown craft. Quadrant E [Triangulation grid active] Sector V-XB982"
| "Spherical alignment" - Riley |
Swerving in and out of asteroids - Plasma gun fires blasts. Squadron of spinning terror coordinate - Infrared targeting. Fighters closing fast through the abyssal glow - Target locked on.
| "Slipstream through crevasses in the lithospheric nimbus smog" - J. Bradley | | "A celestial dance through the gas giant's spewing ichor" - A. Bradley | | "Sputtering exhaust fumes clinging to the engine nexus spark" - J. Bradley |
Missiles strike the craft - Computations malfunction. Hyperdrive in effect - Scramble syntax to disengage. Steam hisses out from the scorched bow - Systems lose control.
Interstellar Lands
| "Secluded howling of a synchronous awakening" - Riley |
| "Rolling hills of nebula" - J. Bradley | | "Manifested through the shores of time" - A. Bradley |
| "A ceremony of churning gravity-flux in the spatio-temporal continuum" - A. Bradley |
Drifting sepulchre of iron. Cosmic steel tomb - Adrift.
Black Ore
Now absent from infrared gaze; ice has exteriorized around the controls and static on the horizon punishes my sanity. Drifting for months, air system leaking; dripping, soaked - it reeks; coreating a stench of rotting metal.
Trapped and cornered in the walls of my own cruiser. No sign of celestial gait to latch gravitory sensors. Blank visuals on the display, auxiliary power routing failed. Compelled to glide the cresting outerstellar dunes of ages.
Spheres drip by in the distance, frozen and battered dregs glide by the hull. The remnants of a long passed merauder redoubt? Blips from the radar wail at the presence of an incoming object: A ravaged planet emblazoned with it's own lunar debris.
Ensnared by a gravity well. My craft flails through tectonic abortions to land at the edge of a lunar crevasse. There, clinging to the brink: An industrial complex littered in impacts. Catwalk traversed, blast doors breached, the purple glow of outside dims.
Lair of the Time-Ghouls
Personnel ascender mounting the pale crust. Ahead, arcing Polaris within the tomb's sepulchral nucleus. Gleaming lunar magma spills through gashes in the lofty cantilever. But skulking shadows dominate the pitch canvas.
| "Scoured mutation seekers" - A. Bradley | | "Altered colliding parallels" - J. Bradley | | "Illumined in Cimmerian shade / The mirror" - A. Bradley |
Progeny potential: Eroded by time. Mutations beyond all form. Time sickness shows. Irradiated cortex: Inharmonious. Clinging to human perception. Enduring echoes flow.
Ensconced into the vestibule, refuge found in the nuclear sanctum; behind mangled console wires and an ogling life-starved corpse. Uranium levels pushed to maximum and the surging throng of twitching figures are swathed in chemical spew as I make my fleeing retreat.
Weeping lanterns. Evac procedure. Forms innumerable.
Airlock to airlock. Half-life levels close to zero. Bursting through chambers depressurized...
| "Flung Into A Vacuous Vacuum" - Riley |
Progeny Echoes
Regaining secure footing onto pressurized auras and into an eerie docking bay. Black ore steams off the diggers, any suitable craft derelict.
On weird gait I glimpse upon an aquatic insectoid. Hissing vapor ridges twinge; a shadow of Enceladus.
Escape pod in bay 4, automatic guiding path blocked. Manual disintegration required to reach escape vectors.
Smoke bills from the towering abyss as the overreaction reaches critical levels. Vapor ions of haze disperse from the geological spill. Draped over the continuum, destiny pulsating doom's lyre. Time is a circle without beginning or end, moonbelt immolator.
The pod clears from the Lunar Maria and I meander between the two spheres. Pod sys: "Course plotted, charge boosters active, countdown initiated: T-minus 0.024 kiloseconds"
| "Distortional labyrinth traversal" - J. Bradley |Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
