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She stood on the edge of the cliff, her expression terrifying in the depths of its sadness, its madness. Beyond her and far below lay the restless sea, sparkling sapphire beneath a bright summer sky. The sight of this beautiful, broken vixen, the love of his life, balanced on the blade of the cruel and serrated knife which divided living and dead was enough to push him over an edge of his own.
“Alyson don’t!” he yelled, stealing a step closer, hoping beyond hope that the extra distance would be enough to catch her.
She bared her teeth, her amber eyes flashing in the sun as they met his. “No closer James! This is it! I can’t take another day living without her!” Her face twisted into something ugly, primal and filled with rage. “You should be standing here with me!” she screamed. “Bastard, clinging to life with our daughter buried! I hate you!”
Her words hit him harder than a sledgehammer. His paws were shaking and his pulse was pounding in his ears. There was red around the edges of his vision, the sunny day infinitely darker than it should have been. She’s right, a rogue thought whispered insistently, we both should have ended it long ago.
In that instant he decided he would die with her. If she fell, he would follow.
He took another step forward, a bizarre relief coursing through him. That step was recklessness only someone on a course to oblivion would have dared. “I thought living for eachother was enough to hang on! It wasn’t. I thought life could go on somehow. It doesn’t!” He was snarling himself now.
Without thinking he leapt forward and had his arms around her before she could react, put his muzzle close to hers. A sense of peace, now that he was with her, flooded him and washed away the pain he felt. “I love you Alyson,” he said softly.
A wracking sob escaped her and she pressed herself against him. He could feel her tears soaking through his fur. It seemed that eternity itself was enchained there in that place, that moment. Then they locked gazes and he kissed her face gently.
“There it is,” he said, his emerald eyes glancing to the left, toward the cliff’s edge, the jagged, rock strewn line that was the last frontier. The cry of seabirds, the crash of the waves and the smell of salt came to him, his senses sharper in that sliver of a second than he had ever experienced.
“I don’t want to die,” she breathed. “I just want her back, so damn much.”
“I know,” he said. He held her close, treasuring her warmth and her scent. He could feel her heart beating. Then he heard the grinding of stone and the sibilant hiss of sand, as loud as a freight train in his ears, the ground shifting below them. The precipice they stood upon crumbled and earth met sky.
***
He awoke gasping, someone was shaking him. His eyes snapped open and he found himself face to face with the shuttle’s co-pilot. The husky’s mirrored aviator sunglasses revealed nothing but he could read the concern through his stance nonetheless. He caught his own reflection in the sunglasses briefly, a tired, haggard looking fox clad in a dusky grey jumpsuit, his green eyes haunted. Dark lines scarred his vulpine features, the tracks of shed tears. He had been crying in his sleep.
The husky stepped back, expression neutral. “Sir, you’re okay. It was just a nightmare. Can’t say I wouldn’t have one myself if I were you. That station is creepy, sir.”
James forced himself to smile. A lie came smoothly to his lips. “Yes, not a mission I’m looking forward to.” Only you are, aren’t you? It’s the first target of the Uminh, isn’t it? There’s just one more year before they get there.
He suppressed a shiver as the co-pilot returned to his seat, heard the husky’s softly spoken remark to the captain. “Just want to get that spook and the rest of them to the station and head home. These runs always make me nervous.”
James closed his eyes and massaged his temples. It was going to be a long flight.
***
Cold Station Six loomed larger on the monitor, framed by the blasted, irradiated hulk of the nameless planet it orbited. Starlight loaned the station’s hull a steely glint. Banks of diamond glass windows banded it, the light emanating from within soft and vaguely blue, like sun rays in the shallows of the sea.
He didn’t want to think of the sea. He averted his eyes, the soporific drone of the shuttle’s engines an anchor of sanity. The mute grey interior of the cabin was reminiscent of stone, neutral and immutable. The sight of it helped him forget. Forgetfulness had become a full time job for him.
“ETA is five minutes,” the pilot said over the intercom, his voice sounding bored. “Please remember to unload your belongings from the overhead compartments when we dock, and keep your seatbelts fastened until the indicator above flashes green. Also, the contents of the compartments may have shifted during our journey. Open the compartments with caution. Thank you for flying with Ambcorp.”
A reptilian sitting on James’ right snorted, shaking his head. His scales were a vibrant shade of teal and seemed to shine under the white and sterile overhead lights. “They treat us like civilians. You’d think that after being through a war we’d be able to handle our baggage.”
He couldn’t help but grin at the remark. Though he didn’t say anything he knew the reptilian’s keen gaze had missed nothing. For a split second he was liberated from his past and resolved to cherish this tiny increment of time that was free of pain, like he did all the others.
“You know,” the reptilian said, laying a claw on his shoulder, “I saw you dreaming. I could tell it was awful. Was it the Night War?”
He turned towards him, meeting the reptilian sergeant’s strange yellow eyes. “No, it was…” he struggled to find the words, words that wouldn’t rip open the scars on his heart. “It was something that happened after.”
The sergeant nodded, said nothing more. James was grateful that the other didn’t press.
On the view screen the station gained more and more detail, until finally the dark rectangle of a landing bay appeared. Gradually the bay grew and widened until it nearly filled the monitor. The shadows beyond the bay’s maw seemed so solid they could have been painted there.
“The mouth of hell,” someone in the row of seats behind him muttered. “Sold my soul for a paycheck.”
Just as the shuttle was about to cross the threshold of the landing bay the blackness of its cavernous interior vanished, banished by the white light of a thousand fluorescents. Then the titanium walls of the long shaft beyond began to race past at an impossible speed, bulkheads and plating merging into a metallic blur.
***
After touchdown he exited the shuttle and was greeted by the sight of a large hangar whose ceiling was lost in gloom. The rest of the chamber was lit by the same soft blue he had seen through the windows of the station on the shuttle’s approach. As he walked down the dark ramp, his bag slung over one shoulder, most of the other passengers were dispersing. The engineers, scientists and maintenance personnel were all headed towards the bay’s exit. Most stared into PDAs, the screens of the devices aglow with maps of Cold Station Six.
He himself joined the small group that stayed behind, former veterans all, who were congregating around a tall, imposing and impressive lion. The feline was clad in a blast proof vest and a grey jumpsuit twin to the one James and the others around him wore. A heavy gun was strapped to his side.
“Welcome!” the lion said after they had all gathered, his powerful voice booming and echoing in the vastness of the hangar. “I know it’s been a long flight so I’ll keep this brief. I’m Chief of Security Braga, in charge of the station’s safety and commander of the station’s guard. The lieutenant here will hand out your assignments.”
The raven beside Braga stepped forward, a thick stack of PDAs tucked under one wing. Her sharp eyes, like chips of topaz, scanned their faces. She paused briefly as they alighted on James. Though the lieutenant’s expression remained a mask of professionalism he could tell she had been startled.
“Keep these with you at all times,” Braga continued when the raven had finished passing out the PDAs. “They’ll update with new orders and shift times at the end of each week. They also allow access to the armory, pick up your vests and weapons then follow the map to find your quarters. Duty begins for most of you at 0800.” He glanced down at his own PDA. “Lieutenant James Chain is to remain. The rest of you are dismissed.”
When the others were gone Braga seemed to relax. His leonine features lost the officious air and he didn’t stand quite so straight. He looked at James, his smile revealing his long and mighty fangs. “So you’re the new officer. Sorry to say it but you look like hell. Troubles with the past?”
He returned the chief’s gaze, careful to keep his face blank. “It won’t affect my duties, sir. I passed the psych evaluation and I served four tours in the Night War. I know how to deal with my demons.”
Braga nodded. “I’m sure you do. In any case, I had a question for you. It says here,” he said, waggling the PDA he held in his huge paw, “that you suffered some very serious injuries somewhere. Left leg, right arm, right eye and right ear. All had to be cybernetically replaced. Yet there’s no record of you sustaining such horrific wounds during the war. What happened?”
“There was an accident, sir,” he said simply, a mental blast door slamming shut. “I’d rather not relive it.”
The commander sighed. “I won’t make you. But you of all people should know I’m taking a big chance here. If you unravel you could do a lot of damage with those augments. I have to trust my ranking officers, part of that trust is earned but part of it is instinct. My instincts trust you. My experience as a CO tells me not to,” he paused suddenly, gave a low, deep growl as his paw went to his ear. “We’re going to have to cut this short, there’s a problem on level ten. Lieutenant Vara will you give you the grand tour.”
***
Some notes:
*Combined Flashback and Arrival into one chapter. Too damn grim otherwise.
*Resolved some small flaws.
*Don't worry, it will be set right...
*A revision for the prologue is planned, I get kind of silly when I drink too much...
*Duplicate "sustained" changed to suffered...*sighs*
“Alyson don’t!” he yelled, stealing a step closer, hoping beyond hope that the extra distance would be enough to catch her.
She bared her teeth, her amber eyes flashing in the sun as they met his. “No closer James! This is it! I can’t take another day living without her!” Her face twisted into something ugly, primal and filled with rage. “You should be standing here with me!” she screamed. “Bastard, clinging to life with our daughter buried! I hate you!”
Her words hit him harder than a sledgehammer. His paws were shaking and his pulse was pounding in his ears. There was red around the edges of his vision, the sunny day infinitely darker than it should have been. She’s right, a rogue thought whispered insistently, we both should have ended it long ago.
In that instant he decided he would die with her. If she fell, he would follow.
He took another step forward, a bizarre relief coursing through him. That step was recklessness only someone on a course to oblivion would have dared. “I thought living for eachother was enough to hang on! It wasn’t. I thought life could go on somehow. It doesn’t!” He was snarling himself now.
Without thinking he leapt forward and had his arms around her before she could react, put his muzzle close to hers. A sense of peace, now that he was with her, flooded him and washed away the pain he felt. “I love you Alyson,” he said softly.
A wracking sob escaped her and she pressed herself against him. He could feel her tears soaking through his fur. It seemed that eternity itself was enchained there in that place, that moment. Then they locked gazes and he kissed her face gently.
“There it is,” he said, his emerald eyes glancing to the left, toward the cliff’s edge, the jagged, rock strewn line that was the last frontier. The cry of seabirds, the crash of the waves and the smell of salt came to him, his senses sharper in that sliver of a second than he had ever experienced.
“I don’t want to die,” she breathed. “I just want her back, so damn much.”
“I know,” he said. He held her close, treasuring her warmth and her scent. He could feel her heart beating. Then he heard the grinding of stone and the sibilant hiss of sand, as loud as a freight train in his ears, the ground shifting below them. The precipice they stood upon crumbled and earth met sky.
***
He awoke gasping, someone was shaking him. His eyes snapped open and he found himself face to face with the shuttle’s co-pilot. The husky’s mirrored aviator sunglasses revealed nothing but he could read the concern through his stance nonetheless. He caught his own reflection in the sunglasses briefly, a tired, haggard looking fox clad in a dusky grey jumpsuit, his green eyes haunted. Dark lines scarred his vulpine features, the tracks of shed tears. He had been crying in his sleep.
The husky stepped back, expression neutral. “Sir, you’re okay. It was just a nightmare. Can’t say I wouldn’t have one myself if I were you. That station is creepy, sir.”
James forced himself to smile. A lie came smoothly to his lips. “Yes, not a mission I’m looking forward to.” Only you are, aren’t you? It’s the first target of the Uminh, isn’t it? There’s just one more year before they get there.
He suppressed a shiver as the co-pilot returned to his seat, heard the husky’s softly spoken remark to the captain. “Just want to get that spook and the rest of them to the station and head home. These runs always make me nervous.”
James closed his eyes and massaged his temples. It was going to be a long flight.
***
Cold Station Six loomed larger on the monitor, framed by the blasted, irradiated hulk of the nameless planet it orbited. Starlight loaned the station’s hull a steely glint. Banks of diamond glass windows banded it, the light emanating from within soft and vaguely blue, like sun rays in the shallows of the sea.
He didn’t want to think of the sea. He averted his eyes, the soporific drone of the shuttle’s engines an anchor of sanity. The mute grey interior of the cabin was reminiscent of stone, neutral and immutable. The sight of it helped him forget. Forgetfulness had become a full time job for him.
“ETA is five minutes,” the pilot said over the intercom, his voice sounding bored. “Please remember to unload your belongings from the overhead compartments when we dock, and keep your seatbelts fastened until the indicator above flashes green. Also, the contents of the compartments may have shifted during our journey. Open the compartments with caution. Thank you for flying with Ambcorp.”
A reptilian sitting on James’ right snorted, shaking his head. His scales were a vibrant shade of teal and seemed to shine under the white and sterile overhead lights. “They treat us like civilians. You’d think that after being through a war we’d be able to handle our baggage.”
He couldn’t help but grin at the remark. Though he didn’t say anything he knew the reptilian’s keen gaze had missed nothing. For a split second he was liberated from his past and resolved to cherish this tiny increment of time that was free of pain, like he did all the others.
“You know,” the reptilian said, laying a claw on his shoulder, “I saw you dreaming. I could tell it was awful. Was it the Night War?”
He turned towards him, meeting the reptilian sergeant’s strange yellow eyes. “No, it was…” he struggled to find the words, words that wouldn’t rip open the scars on his heart. “It was something that happened after.”
The sergeant nodded, said nothing more. James was grateful that the other didn’t press.
On the view screen the station gained more and more detail, until finally the dark rectangle of a landing bay appeared. Gradually the bay grew and widened until it nearly filled the monitor. The shadows beyond the bay’s maw seemed so solid they could have been painted there.
“The mouth of hell,” someone in the row of seats behind him muttered. “Sold my soul for a paycheck.”
Just as the shuttle was about to cross the threshold of the landing bay the blackness of its cavernous interior vanished, banished by the white light of a thousand fluorescents. Then the titanium walls of the long shaft beyond began to race past at an impossible speed, bulkheads and plating merging into a metallic blur.
***
After touchdown he exited the shuttle and was greeted by the sight of a large hangar whose ceiling was lost in gloom. The rest of the chamber was lit by the same soft blue he had seen through the windows of the station on the shuttle’s approach. As he walked down the dark ramp, his bag slung over one shoulder, most of the other passengers were dispersing. The engineers, scientists and maintenance personnel were all headed towards the bay’s exit. Most stared into PDAs, the screens of the devices aglow with maps of Cold Station Six.
He himself joined the small group that stayed behind, former veterans all, who were congregating around a tall, imposing and impressive lion. The feline was clad in a blast proof vest and a grey jumpsuit twin to the one James and the others around him wore. A heavy gun was strapped to his side.
“Welcome!” the lion said after they had all gathered, his powerful voice booming and echoing in the vastness of the hangar. “I know it’s been a long flight so I’ll keep this brief. I’m Chief of Security Braga, in charge of the station’s safety and commander of the station’s guard. The lieutenant here will hand out your assignments.”
The raven beside Braga stepped forward, a thick stack of PDAs tucked under one wing. Her sharp eyes, like chips of topaz, scanned their faces. She paused briefly as they alighted on James. Though the lieutenant’s expression remained a mask of professionalism he could tell she had been startled.
“Keep these with you at all times,” Braga continued when the raven had finished passing out the PDAs. “They’ll update with new orders and shift times at the end of each week. They also allow access to the armory, pick up your vests and weapons then follow the map to find your quarters. Duty begins for most of you at 0800.” He glanced down at his own PDA. “Lieutenant James Chain is to remain. The rest of you are dismissed.”
When the others were gone Braga seemed to relax. His leonine features lost the officious air and he didn’t stand quite so straight. He looked at James, his smile revealing his long and mighty fangs. “So you’re the new officer. Sorry to say it but you look like hell. Troubles with the past?”
He returned the chief’s gaze, careful to keep his face blank. “It won’t affect my duties, sir. I passed the psych evaluation and I served four tours in the Night War. I know how to deal with my demons.”
Braga nodded. “I’m sure you do. In any case, I had a question for you. It says here,” he said, waggling the PDA he held in his huge paw, “that you suffered some very serious injuries somewhere. Left leg, right arm, right eye and right ear. All had to be cybernetically replaced. Yet there’s no record of you sustaining such horrific wounds during the war. What happened?”
“There was an accident, sir,” he said simply, a mental blast door slamming shut. “I’d rather not relive it.”
The commander sighed. “I won’t make you. But you of all people should know I’m taking a big chance here. If you unravel you could do a lot of damage with those augments. I have to trust my ranking officers, part of that trust is earned but part of it is instinct. My instincts trust you. My experience as a CO tells me not to,” he paused suddenly, gave a low, deep growl as his paw went to his ear. “We’re going to have to cut this short, there’s a problem on level ten. Lieutenant Vara will you give you the grand tour.”
***
Some notes:
*Combined Flashback and Arrival into one chapter. Too damn grim otherwise.
*Resolved some small flaws.
*Don't worry, it will be set right...
*A revision for the prologue is planned, I get kind of silly when I drink too much...
*Duplicate "sustained" changed to suffered...*sighs*
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 77px
File Size 54.5 kB
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