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Damuis
Posted By: Mr Bill Jr V<mr_bill_jr_5@hotmail.com>
Date: 6 April 2002, 6:04 pm


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A ripple, nothing more. Like a stone skipping off water. A flare of light burned intensely, falling from the great blue above. A curving trail of flame ran from behind, twisting in the wind. Graceful, and quite, it slipped over the horizon. Then a million followed. The sun turned to stone; great space born vessels blocking out the light. Hundreds descended from the heavens. Trails of fire twisted and curled towards the moon. Gigantic plumes of dust erupted from the moon's surface. Great explosions of fire. Her vast lifeless seas, turned to cinders. Her tired surface burned. Cleansing fire freed her broken soul. With sudden intensity the moon was completely engulfed in flame. Another million vessels finally blocked her from view. Covenants. It has ended then. We've failed. A wave of air shivered across the Earth's vast plain of soil, slicing apart the silence. Trees blew lightly as the shockwave passed. The grass swayed, as the sky darkened. Fire, a thousand miles high, tore and burnt the fragile earth into submission. The fire swirled, hovering across the horizon as everything that once lived, died. The planet burned. As quickly as they'd came, the Covenants vanished into the sky. The Earth once again looked into the emptiness from which this horror had come. It was the same emptiness she had gazed upon for billions of years. This changed nothing. An icy snow began to fall, coating the charred soil in a final gown. Sleep she would, and awake she would, once more. Darkness closed around the planet, light faded.

"Never... show me no more."

The voice was strained, coarse from the tears which choked it.

"As you wish."

The echo seemed faint, barely audible, as though the voice had traveled an incredible distance to reach him.

"Who are you?"

And he woke.


He blinked, ever so slowly. The chilled hum of super heated fusion engines sang, as they did everyday. He placed his hand against the small circular port hole, and gazed into the void beyond. The stars burned as strongly as before. Vega orbited, its brilliant star tossing light into the cold of his room. A squadron of star fighters glided past, then descended towards the planet. His muscles ached, as he pulled himself from the stainless steel cot. Had he been screaming? His throat was torn, his voice dim. What nightmares were these that infected his mind, and tampered with his very thoughts? Several weak florescent lights illuminated the room. They flickered unnaturally, the recycled air hanging tensely. He walked to his sink, trying to recompose himself. Had he changed? Or was everything still the same? He splashed water on his face, feeling it drip, and fall from his features. He gazed into his mirror, his eyes straining to focus. He was still the same. He was still a marine.

His radio buzzed. After the first three buzzes, the marine answered.
"Yah?"
"Captain, you've been resigned." The voice on the other end was cold, lacking all emotion. Not now.
"Report to the main cargo deck for further instructions." The voice on the other end cut the transmission, before the marine had a chance to argue. He dropped the radio, and threw on his clothes. He felt crushed; the oxygen seemed to be draining. Perhaps the scrubbers were out again? He left the room, entering the hallway beyond. Pipes and wires lined the ceiling, the constant hissing of air pumps adding to the engine's hum. The marine quickly made his way to the main cargo deck.

A gigantic crane latched onto a small armored tank, metal creaking with strain; the crane swooped high, attaching the vehicle to the sleek underbelly of a drop ship. A compliment of engineers scuttled about the ship, making sure the attachment was good. They gave a thumbs up, and the ship was on its way. Engineers littered the deck, hundreds of them. The deck's temperature was abnormally high, heat blasting every creature on deck. Oil fumes drifted through the air, sparks flew as engineers made repairs to vehicles and ships. Gas spilled over the deck as fuel tanks were topped off. A smelter. Nearby, a large ion driven fighter landed, gears extended. Jet wash poured over the marine, artificial wind tearing at his clothes. Engineers ran towards the fighter, fuel hoses in hand.

A jeep drove up to the marine, stopping beside him. A soldier jumped from the jeep, holding his helmet to keep it from blowing off. The soldier seemed young, as though he had only recently been drafted.
"Are you Captain Damuis?" The soldier attempted to shout over the engine roar.
The marine nodded in recognition.
"All right! Head over the command building," The soldier pointed with his rifle, "They'll fill you in!"
Damuis nodded once more. The soldier jumped back onto the jeep, driving it off across the bay. Damuis set off in the direction the soldier had indicated. Above him, the roar of engines increased as the now fueled fighter rose off the docking bay floor. The big ship spun her nose, and accelerated out of the bay, blasting into the ether beyond.

"Come, come in." He was a well trimmed man, chiseled features and cut hair. His suit was finely pressed. Damuis gave a quick salute, his thoughts elsewhere. The room was fairly modest for a ranking officer, the view starring into space. Few plants decorated the dim walls, adding a sense of life to the artificial surroundings.
"I suppose you're mighty interested as to why we've been running you around the ship, no?" Damuis stood, maintaining his silence.
"No, sir." This man seemed to be paying only minimal attention to Damuis; his gaze directed out the room's window.
"Oh come now, captain," the man held his distant gaze, "You're not even vaguely interested in what the rebel's have down on Vega? Not interested in why earth has sent the entire 6th fleet to this pathetic planet? I doubt your honesty, captain."
Damuis let out a slow breath, the weight of this man's words sinking in.
"The rebellion will be crushed, captain. The rebels pounded off the planet. Earth needs to maintain stability during this crisis, and this futile rebellion is the last thing we need."
He turned to face Damuis, his many decorations and medals shone brightly.
"It's of no matter, captain. The decision has been made, and you're part of it. The briefing is on the table."
Damuis reached down to the table, picking up a small data cartridge.
"Dismissed."

Damuis spent no more then a minute listening to his briefing. He already hated the mission.

The drop ship's rear doors swung closed, air hissing as the pressure changed. Engines whined as the ship became air born. The pitch increased; the ship slipped from the docking bay, flying into the void; Ten souls hurdled into space, Damuis with them. A planet lay below- the vast green that was Vega Prime.

A ripple, nothing more. Like a stone skipping off water. A flare of light burned intensely, falling from the great blue above. It was nothing more then a speck of light, noticed by none. No radar picked up the small trail of dust, the Vegan radar stations having been pounded from space. Ever so deftly the speck glided towards the ground. The speck grew larger over the horizon, until the sleek metal form of a drop ship became visible.

The rear door lay open, wind blazing through the drop ship's interior. The ship cruised across the ocean flats, leaving the horizon far behind. Blue ocean fled beneath the ship, waves forming in her wake. A single moon floated far above the surface, visible even during the day. Damuis, the marine, leaned against the ship's wall, his rifle in hand. He reached to his helmet, adjusting his personal radio.
"Any of you ever make planet fall before?" Damuis' query fell on deaf ears. The other soldiers were to busy talking abut all of the rebels they'd kill.
"I have." One of the older soldiers stood, walking to the rear door. Damuis turned to face him.
"Were?"
"Firrel. I was onboard the Typhoon when we evacuated the planet. Have you ever seen a planet ripped open? Have you seen a moon explode?" Damuis had seen such things, but only ever in his dreams. He shook his head.
"I watched six hundred million die..."
The chatter dimmed. Below the ship, the ocean turned to sand, beach and grass. Woods lay beyond, and a single cement bunker beyond that.

The drop ship cruised in low, tossing the sand's with her mighty engines. Gears extended, the ship pressed her bulk against the beach. A great plume of sand flew in circles around the ship, obscuring vision completely. Damuis jumped from his perch by the rear door, boots once again on solid ground. Within moments the entire group had landed, Damuis led them forward, off the beach and through the thin woods. Birds chirped serenely, a light breeze causing the trees to rustle. He came to rest next to the ancient bunker. The bunker was overgrown, vines covering it, as if they wished to pull it deeper into the soil. Strange runic markings lined the cement, clearly carved by a master artisan. Crouching, Damuis brushed aside a vine, his gloved hand running along the runes.
"This is it."
"And, how do we open it? We don't just wave are hands do-" A bullet sliced the man's throat. He clutched his neck, blood erupting from around his gloves. Choking, the man fell to the ground, dieing seconds later. Before he had hit the ground the soldiers spun, weapons blazing madly in the shooters direction. The distinctive sound of lead pulping flesh was heard. A rebel stumbled from the brush, his chest gutted by shells. He collapsed.
"Sniper. The rebels know we're here... Captain?" Damuis kicked the sniper's body, satisfied that he was dead, he reproached the bunker.
"You, stay here. Make sure that I can get back out once I've got what I'm looking for."
"Sir, what are you looking for?"
"Don't worry about that. Just keep this bunker open. I don't want to get trapped down there."
Clips fell the ground, each soldier reloading his spent rounds. Damuis ran his hands across the bunker's wall, feeling for an entrance. His fingers gripped a thin crevice embedded in the wall. He stopped, produced his bayonet, and slid it through the tiny opening. Pressing back on the bayonet, half the wall opened wide. He heard shouts, and running. Damuis ducked his head, creeping into the opening. Closing the door, Damuis heard the shooting begin.

Switching on his rifle's flashlight, Damuis peered into the darkness: A spiraling staircase, descending into the gloom. The stair, like the walls and floor, was made of finely chiseled stone. His boots tapped slightly, echoing each time he took a step. As he walked farther the darkness seemed to creep inwards, pressing against him. He stopped. He could hear a second set of footsteps. Damuis drew his bayonet once more, fastening it to the end of his rifle. He listened, the footsteps drew closer. Damuis eyed a rebel guard, walking slowly towards the stairs. With sudden ferocity, Damuis leapt from around the stairs, plunging the bayonet into the guard. The man gasped, but found his mouth covered by a gloved hand. Damuis withdrew the bayonet, wiping it on the man's clothes. Only one way to go. The stairs ended, a hallway set the course. Damuis crept passed the man's body, gliding silently into the gloom. He reached a door, his flashlight outlining the details. A single runic marking was carved on the door's face; a long curved half moon. Pushing the door open, Damuis cast his flashlight inside.

It was a temple. The scale was immense: high gothic arches lined the roof, massive vaults curving the ceiling. Lit torches had been placed along the walls. Dust trickled like water fell, cobwebs covering the floor and arches. Gigantic stone pillars reached towards the hidden sky, racing for the ceiling. The room stepped up slightly, raising into a crux in which there lay a single stone pedestal. The pedestal. Not much smaller then Damuis, the entire temple seemed centered around it. Damuis could feel power flowing out of the stone, casting empty shadows across the temple. A visible aura of energy was wrapped around the pedestal, expanding and contracting ever so slightly. Standing, his hands placed on the pedestal's surface, was a hunched man. He was clothed in a gray robe, his face hidden in the robe's folds. His eyes glowed red, peering out of the faceless skull. Damuis knew at once that pedestal was his target, the reason for this journey. Damuis spun his rifle to the fore, firing twice. The man shrieked. An incredible sphere of light erupted around him, the bullets disappearing before reaching him. There was a pause. Damuis suddenly felt as though he had been kicked from the front. The man swung his head, Damuis felt his body tossed as though he were no more then a doll. His rifle fell from his hands, rolling across the room. He slid to a halt, having been flung half way across the temple. It took him considerable effort to stand again.
"Why have you come here?" The man spoke in a soft voice, his tone almost lyrical. Damuis felt compelled to respond.
"I... I was sent here." The man didn't respond, as though he was considering Damuis' words. Damuis posed a question of his own.
"What is this place?" The man's eyes lit up, changing from burning red to a pale blue. His voice became higher, and echoed with a greater intensity.
"This is a terminal, one of thousands. They built this place." Damuis approached the pedestal, responding quickly.
"Who? Who built it...? Why?"
"Perhaps you should ask them yourself. They have much to tell, and so few to listen."
"Who?"
"The spirits. Millions of them. They know you Damuis. They have sought you before." The man suddenly dropped from the pedestal, falling to the ground. His eye's ceased to glow. Damuis ran to the man's side, but found him lifeless, as though all his energy were stolen by the pedestal.
Damuis stood, reaching out with a hand, feeling it pulled towards the pedestal. His hand dropped to the pedestal's surface.

Light burst through his eyes. His soul was pulled from reality, swallowed by the abyss.


"Damuis... wake."

He opened his eyes. He was laying on an endless plane of water. His body rippled around the ocean, gently displacing the otherwise calm sea.

"Damuis..."

He raised his head, starring into the distance. Not a single soul could be seen. He stood, the water becoming solid under his boots.

"I've been looking for you Damuis, you couldn't imagine how long I've searched."

"How...?"

His mind spun, trying to comprehend what had just occurred.

"Time, Damuis, has no meaning to us. Centuries have past since we last met."

The echo seemed faint, barely audible, as though the voice had traveled an incredible distance to reach him.

"Who are you?"

Damuis waited, breathing lightly prying that this dream would end. Wishing that his soul could return to the hip, to his cot, to the recycled air. But it did not. And some how, Damuis knew that he had been here before.

The silence became tangible. Another presence was here. Millions joined the one.

"We are the spirits, those you call immortal.
We are those who came before you, those of old. Those you cannot name.
We are the gods, those whom you fear.
We are the creators of your past. The great builders.
We are those whom cast gold from the ether.
We are those who built your world. The world we strove to destroy.
We failed..."





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