MdJG Jovenan – From the Pits of Hell to the Bright Light of Heaven
Jovenan
((Maintenance Corridors, Shint Cruiser))
Dakora: Company ahead. ::He frowned.:: Squad strength.
Jovenan pulled her sidearms out and pressed her back against the corridor wall. Just the four of them couldn’t fight a squad of Shint soldiers. They were outmanned and outgunned, and they would be easily surrounded in the narrow tunnels. They had been so close, but now Jovenan began to consider her alternatives to avoid capture.
Chevalier: Response
Unless…
Jovenan: Are they Shint, or just some of the slaves?
Dakora: Not Shint. I can’t feel Shint.
Thevn: The People.
Exhaling, Jovenan lowered her sidearms. The weird-head alien had warned of the slaves serving on the vessels, but she doubted that even the Shints would be stupid enough to arm their chattel. Killing unarmed, innocent civilians didn’t go well with her morality nor the laws of her people. She wasn’t so sure about the Commonwealth.
Jovenan: We won’t kill them, right? It wouldn’t matter if they raised an alarm now, right?
Dakora: No. Our cover is already blown, they can tell their masters if they want. But unless they are armed and hostile, hold your fire.
Chevalier: Response
Led by the weird-head alien and the Major, the strike team rounded the corner. Following them closely behind, Jovenan kept her sidearms at hand but lowered. Behind the blind spot, she saw the Major pointing the rifle at a group of aliens.
They were the same, purple, bumpy cranium species as the weird-head junior officer, but they were different. The junior officer’s competence was questionable, but Jovenan couldn’t deny her having a fierce temperament that might be of use in combat. These people lacked her nature. They weren’t ferocious, not belligerent. They were frightened.
Dakora: Step aside.
She looked at what the Major was retrieving. It was a prismagon. Another prismagon, seemingly unused. An instrumental component of a weapon that could wipe them out of existence, being carried in a box. The thought of how many of them the Shint vessel was carrying made Jovenan shiver.
oO We should have raided the cargo bay. Oo
Mizarian: Sadar.
Jovenan turned. One of the weird-head slaves was staring right into the weird-head junior officer’s eyes.
Thevn: Thevn.
What was that about?
Meanwhile, the Major had grabbed the new prismagon under his arm. Jovenan had already opened her mouth and raised her finger to point out that he might want to have something blocking the radiation when something went whizzing past their heads.
Dakora: Run!
He didn’t need to repeat it as Jovenan sprinted towards the shuttle again. The weird-head junior officer remained a few steps behind them, and Jovenan could hear her responding to their pursuer with the kind. Or was she shooting at the slaves? Why would she…
Chevalier: Response
There was no time to think, as slugs and bullets of the Shint weapons flew past them. Sometimes the fired rounds hit their respective personal shields, being deflected to the walls around them. As much extra protection the portable shuttle shield generator would have given to them, none of them to stop and activate it since halting would have meant capture. The personal shields worked for now, but Jovenan feared that with this pace, the constant barrage might drain them. She didn’t want to be here when that happened. In matter of fact, she didn’t want to be here at all. She had known that a secondment on an Interstellar fleet vessel was dangerous, and she had known storming a Shint vessel was lunacy, but now that they were fired upon and chased, she could feel tears falling off her eyes as terror and self-pity clouded her mind.
Jovenan didn’t slow down until she heard a subtle thump right beside her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the Major, nearly fallen onto the floor in pain. Jovenan looked ahead and back to him, considering if he was worth recovering. She was saved from the decision when the Major rose back onto his feet and carried on, albeit limbing.
And then, a warm breath of air accompanied by a loud noise and brightness. As Jovenan turned back, she could barely comprehend the wave of explosion approaching them from behind, nor could she understand what happened when a new wall fell between her on one side and the explosion and the screaming Shint pursuers on the other. Looking around, she felt different. The fright, anxiety and cacophony of the flight had been cut like a knife with the blast door.
Dakora: Holy hells. That was close. Everyone alright?
Thevn: Better than you! Gotta say, if your plan is to empty our stores of medicine, you’re getting there!
Jovenan wanted to voice her terror, scream at the Major for risking them all, cry for the prospect of death that had come so close to them, sit down and sob. But there was no point now that she turned away from the blast door and observed the oddly silent remainder of the corridor.
Jovenan: I’m… fine.
Chevalier: Response
They resumed their run, and just behind the corner, they found the shuttle. It was a pleasure to find it still in here, the joyous sight among the despair, no matter how much Jovenan disliked the vehicle itself. It represented their continued survival.
Dakora: Go, go go! Strap in and get ready to rip. ::To Jovenan.:: We’re going to need as much prismic shielding as you’ve got or we’re toast. The Shint are gonna be PISSED.
Jovenan: With pleasure!
Chevalier: Response
They boarded the shuttle again, finding it just the same piece of junk they had left it as. Jovenan removed the portable shield generator and placed it back to its casing on the shuttle, reconnecting it to the onboard power source with the robot kid. Following the example of the weird-head alien, Jovenan strapped herself tightly to her seat by the generator. Something told her the trip back was going to be a lot bumpier than the journey here.
Meanwhile, the Major sat to the front of the shuttle, to the pilot’s seat and kicked off the start-up sequence. But something was amiss.
Thevn: We can’t wait for them, Major! We’ve gotta get the Don Pedro going now.
The furball, the pointy-ear and the shrink weren’t there, but the Major sighed and pressed the button to close up the ramp. Jovenan knew that their orders were to retrieve at least two prismagons and get back, no matter how many people left behind, but it felt wrong. Still, as the few last seconds expired, she raised no objections.
And yet she could have, as two beings slipped in through the partially closed door.
Sato: ::breathless:: Touchdown.
Thevn: And not a moment too soon.
Savel: Response
Jovenan was happy that the other team made it to the shuttle, seemingly with a prismagon in their pouch. Not so much cheerful about seeing them again, but not having the death of three individuals on her consciousness. Three? But there are only…
Dakora: Right on time. Now strap in, ‘cause we aren’t out of the woods yet.::His face fell slightly as he realized they were a person short.:: What about Lux?
Judging by the expressions around the shuttle, she could tell roughly what had happened. The furball had ran to the streets one too many times.
Thevn: Not ‘it’ for telling M’Bel and Della.
Sato/Savel/Chevalier: Response
Almost like observing from outside, Jovenan flicked the shield generator online. The furball had been the only alien on this damned ship she had gained any respect to, and these people had left her behind. She felt rage to the shrink and the pointy ear as the shuttle emerged from the floor and hurled through the hole in the hull. Convinced they could have saved the junior officer, Jovenan had to subdue the questioning and the verdict to a better occasion, as the last and the most lethal leg of their journey began.
Thevn: We’ve got outgoing comms, Sir.
Dakora: =/\= Desdemona control, this is the Don Pedro, we’ve got the cargo and need immediate cover for our return trip. =/\=
Control: =/\= Wilco, Don Pedro. Good to hear your voice, Romeo. The Furies are moving to engage the tail you’ve grown. =/\=
Jovenan couldn’t see outside from her seat but based on the several sudden course changes and the demeanour of the pilot, it was obvious that they were not alone.
Dakora: They’re closing on us! I need all the power you’ve got to the prismic shields Jovenan!
Jovenan: I’ll give you what we got!
The low humming of the shield generator turned more aggressive as the output of energy increased and the prismic bubble around the shuttle’s hull grew in intensity.
Shint#1: =/\= The shuttle carries sensitive contraband. Shoot it down. =/\=
Shint#2: =/\= Copy that. =/\=
Thevn: ::manic grin:: Go to Hell.
The shuttlepod rocked, followed by a different kind of buzzing noise. Frowning, Jovenan inspected the front and sides of the shield generator, but it seemed to be undamaged and as operational as before.
Dakora: What is that? Did we take a hit to the hydraulic actuators?
Jovenan: No, it’s coming from somewhere closer. It’s not the shield generator, though.
Any: Response
Thevn: It’s not coming over the communicators either.
The shuttle shook violently. The tone of the shield generator pitched higher as it struggled to deflect or absorb what Jovenan presumed was a direct hit to their shields. Still, the new noise resumed uninterrupted, and in matter fact, intensified. Not only that, but the otherwise gloomy interior of the shuttle also became a bit brighter as they were engulfed by a soft glow.
Oh s…
Dakora: Uh guys, I think we have a problem…
Thevn: You think!?
Jovenan ignored the shield generator and the shouts of the other officers as she removed her harnesses and leaped across the small shuttle to the prismagons. Something had caused them to activate, seemingly without external power or perhaps absorbing it through some kind of tunnelling effect from the multidimensional gravity bubble the generator had produced. She needed to figure out how to shut them down, or all their particles would be phased out of existence. Trying to reach out to them, however, she felt her fingers and palms burning by the intense radiation the devices emitted. Letting out a pained shriek, she pulled her hands away.
Dakora: ::Shouting:: Hold onto something!
Jovenan, standing on her feet by the prismagons, was ill-prepared for the next shake. The power of the explosion outside whisked her against the wall and onto the floor, hitting her head and back violently against solid bulkheads. Blooded – which she didn’t find time to verify herself – and dizzy by the hit, she lifted her gaze again to the prismagons.
The glow of the prismagons was intense, and she had to raise her arm to protect her eyes.
The light went through her arm uninterrupted.
It travelled across solid matter and the vacuum of space, engulfing them all. The bright radiation blurred all edges and vibrated them from within.
Dakora: No…
Their mission had ended. They had succeeded in stealing the Reality weapon from the World Ender, but they never reached home. They had failed, and they were all paying the price for it.
It was the time to see whose afterlife was the correct one.
And if it was not hers…
Claim it for the true God.
TAG/End act 1 for Jovenan
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Mediator JG Jovenan
Science officer (secondment)
CIC Desdemona
E239911J11