A Rigorous Revelation

[Bishop Morse]

Hera
Georgia System,
Serenity Valley
May 14, 2511
2217 hours

The everlasting darkness was like a comforting blanket over the planet Hera. An eternal mysticism which seemed to be like a viewing pool into the unknown over the desert rocks and dirt which littered the ground. It was fairly cold, as there was no moisture in the air to hold the heat of the afternoon sun. And when the breeze picked, it left a deep chill on any bit skin which was exposed to the elements. A majestic sight for anyone to behold no doubt. But it was not silent. Any direction one turned, the sounds of cannonade, and the crash of shell could be heard. Conflicting with the nobility of the stars were bright flashes on the horizon, which came just before the resounding tones of ordinance being detonated.

Just behind a trench line sat a large red figure of the Logan, it's exterior lights, illuminating the desert rocks and the faces of soldiers wearing long brown coats. There was a great ruckus around the heavy-transport vessel, as they moved quickly towards different objectives. Men carrying their rifles shifted around, their faces worn and weary. Others shouldered their weapons, and took positions behind or in front stretchers, lifting them up, and were being taken onto the large red ships while boxes were being unloaded from the large loading ramp which came from beneath the hulking mass.

Standing just to the right of the large vessel, stood a man wearing a black coat with blonde hair that stemmed just down his shoulders. He stood out a bit from everyone else around him, especially the man standing beside him. The man was large, wore a long brown jacket with helmet, on which a darker brown stripe ran down the center, and a red shirt with a bandana around his neck. Hanging from his neck were a set of dog tags, and in his helmet sat a card, the jack of diamonds. He was considerably older then the man in the black jacket.

"Keep em' boxes level! Don't let none a at' fall out. We need't all, don't waste none." The large man yelled at the soldiers who were hard at work.

"You sure it's a good to be yelling out here Lieutenant Colonel?" The man in the black coat asked.

"Yes Major Morse, I am absolutely sure. Aint a thing breakin my line, not tonight, not tomara."

Bishop rolled his eyes, as he hadn't thought that he was going to be much more than just what he'd received as an answer. He reached into his coat and pulled out a flask, taking a small sip from it. He held it out to the large man beside him, offering him a drink.

"What's that." He said, then sniffing in, drawing back quickly after he had. "Jesus in hell on holidays. Homebrew? Major, that shit's like death. I'll take my chances drinkin wet powder for' I start drinkin that dirt water." He said in complete disgust.

Bishop had also not expected him to take a drink, but it was a formality which had no consequence that could follow. He put the flask away in his coat. He looked down at the men at work. His crew were standing outside, their uniforms were slightly different then the infantrymen on the ground. He noted one carrying out a large crate marked "Ammo" on the side. The man had long black hair and was slightly overweight.

Bishop formed a slight grin. "Hey 'Sprink', how much's left in there?" He asked, with a bit of arrogance in his tone.

The soldier looked over at him, and then looked back at the cargo hold, then back at Bishop shaking his head with shrug.

"Superior done just ext you a question soldier, aint you gonna answer!?" The large Lieutenant Colonel yelled at Sprink.

Bishop jumped in to defend Sprink instantly. "Don't worry Lieutenant Colonel, he's mute. He couldn't answer even if he wanted." He said. Then tilted his head as a sign for Sprink to keep working.

There were quite a number of men being brought on board the Logan, some were able to walk, though had bandaging all over them. It was quite a sight to see the number of wounded being brought on. But this was the reality that war brought.

Another one of the crewmen came out, a very large and bulky man, who was holding a very large rifle. "Bishop, were just about outa room." He yelled down to Bishop, giving him a status update.

"Mmmk, Load up these last few, and prep for lift. Are all the crates off?" Bishop asked the large man standing on the cargo ramp.

The man looked into the cargo hold, and then back to Bishop. "Their bringin' out the last one now." The man announced.

"Alright Pickle, have Jimmy start monitoring their status so we don't have anyone dying on our way back." He yelled up to the man. The large man turned around and walked back up the ramp. Bishop then turned away a moment, and touched his finger to his ear where he a communicator sat. "Willy, tell Andy to prep for launch. You got our route all planned out?"

There was a pause and then a very pleasant voice came over the speaker in his ear. "I just told Andy to start launch procedure, and I have our route set up. I gotta tell you though, there have been reports of Alliance forward squads moving all over this sector."

Bishop responded quickly. "Don't worry about it Willy, just pick where it's quietest and take us through it. Aint gonna be many places these days that don't have the blue men walkin' around through em. Were loadin' up, and taken off momentarily." Bishop finished, and then took his finger away from his ear. He turned towards the large man beside him. "Alright, we're headin out, good luck man." he said to the Lieutenant Colonel.

"Same ta you Major, keep'r boys safe now." He said extending his hand to shake.

Bishop shook the man's hand, but his grip was nearly as strong as the Lieutenant Colonel. "As safe as it gets these days." Bishop replied and turned around towards the ship.

The precession of wounded men had stopped, as had the line of boxes. He looked to his right out at the trench line. There wasn't much light coming from them, but he could see the Independence soldiers moving through them, waiting for the imminent attack which would come from the Alliance. He sighed a bit. They had been losing badly for quite some time, and it wasn't likely going to get any better any time soon. But his job wasn't to sit in a trench, it was to move supplies and retrieve the wounded.

"Right guys, load up, were shovin' off." he said just before he set foot on the ramp and began walking up into the ship.

[Ray Hudson]

The cold air burned the face of Ray Hudson. His charcoal colored coat was buttoned up and his gloveless hands were shoved into it's pockets. At what seemed to be random intervals, Ray would remove his hands from the coats pockets and he would proceed to cup his hands in front of his mouth. He would blow into his hands, shake them in front of him and place them back into their resting place. Ray did this as he stood in the cargo bay, watching the other's work hard to get everything in order. Ray understood the need and obligation to work, but he just didn't feel the desire to. He hardly ever did. Instead he just stood in place and chattered his teeth.

Ray had an everlasting feeling of regret that pained him every day. His regret for ever signing up for this war. As he watched the injured men and women, he was reminded of this regret and it uneased his stomach. Ray felt that he may soon join them and don some partially mummified attire. Not wanting to be put down any further at the sight of the wounded, he instead looked up at the stars, admiring their beauty.

After looking up at the sky for a few moments, he looked back down at the working men. Ray saw the Lieutenant Colonel yell at Sprink and watched Morse explain the soldiers defect. This caused Ray to chuckle to himself.

Pickle spoke shortly to Morse and began making his way up the ramp. As he did this Ray spoke to him.

"Full house." Ray said, looking at the near full cargo bay. "But you could cram every soldier in this whole goddamn valley in here and it'd still be fuckin' cold." He scoffed. It was common for Ray to make his discontent public knowledge

Ray once again removed his hands from their pockets, cupped them in front of his mouth and blew into them. Morse rapped up his business and walked back into the ship.

"So were are we taking these fine men and women to today?" Ray asked him while rubbing his hands together.

[Bishop Morse]

As Pickle walked back into the cargo bay he heard Ray say something to him. He caught the first part, and replied in a way he was prone to do. "Yup." He said walking a bit in and moving towards the center of the ship where the cargo ramp control was. But Ray hadn't finished, so he continued to listen to what Ray's bitter tongue had to say. He couldn't disagree with him on what he had to say, it was cold, but he always put up a strong front. "Durp Durp Durp" He said mocking Ray, as he might do from time to time. "Maybe if you didn't bitch about the cold all the time, you wouldn't think about it so much." He retorted, without a smile, taking what he considered to be the high ground. He was always one to make himself out to be better than others.

When Morse began to walk up the ramp, some of his marine attachment which had stepped off walked up behind him. He looked at what was now on his ship, and it was a sad sight. Dozens of people, all in similar dress, were scattered all over his ship. Most were bandaged, some had worse, as they were missing things that were necessities for a normal life. Some of them had little bags on iron sticks pushing liquid into them.

He heard Ray's voice and turned to face him. His old friend was shaking from the cold which came with sitting out in the desert. Everyone had their way of coping with it. Morse's choice was drinking it away. Morse didn't look much into the question and gave his reply. "The wounded are to be brought back to Charleston Outpost in Sector 38-L." he stated, looking them over. 38-L was still a relatively safe area. Aside from a bombing raid here and there, it was about as safe a place one could find on this side of the battle lines.

It was a sight that he never thought he'd see up until a few years ago. Dozens of men and women sat holding on to life. Their faces were grim, and but for the majority, their spirits were not broken. Where there bodies were ravaged, their hearts remained strong. You couldn't help but admire it to some degree. He'd have asked them to try to make room in the cargo hold, but there was nowhere to put them. The entire ship was stocked full of food supplies, extra fuel, ammunition, extra parts, medical provisions, and other troops. The Logan had moved up and picked up the wounded from 5 separate positions, so it was packed.

But this was nothing new, as it had been just like this starting one year earlier for the crew of the Logan. So Morse straightened up and looked down at Pickle. "Close her up Pickle." Morse said.

Pickle then flicked a switch on the control button and the cargo ramp began to wheeze and moan as it came up to connect with the belly of the ship.

Morse looked at all the faces of the soldiers around him, many of whom were looking at him, as he was currently their commanding officer. But he had nothing to say to them. He instead looked at his two crewmen who were still in the Cargo hold, Ray and Pickle.

"Lets head up to bridge guys." Morse said starting forward, moving around the people all around the ship.

[Ray Hudson]

"Sorry but most of us don't have a thick layer of fat to keep us warm like you Pickle." Ray said in reply to Pickles statement. His tone was bitter but held no actual hatred.

Morse answered his question and Ray just nodded his head. The answer didn't really matter much to him, he just liked knowing were they were going. This was a trait that he retained from his childhood. The destination didn't matter much to him, he just wanted to know where he would be headed.

Pickle closed up the ship and Morse told him and Ray to go to the bridge with him. As they walked to their destination Ray looked over the injured marines. He saw one leaning on a wall. Ray couldn't make out the man's age. The man had about half of his face rapped in bandages and his lips and cheeks were burned. His arm was also in a sling and what was visible of his face expressed fatigue. The man was fiddling with what looked like a coin. He was rubbing the tiny circle of bronze with his thumb and stared at the floor.

After observing the young man for a moment, Ray looked to the left wall of the ship and another marine caught his eye. A Chinese woman who looked around Ray's age, in her late twenty's or early thirties. She was leaning on a crate with a menacing look on her face, her skin was covered in sweat and dirt. Suddenly, her face showed anguish and she clenched her side. The pain seemed to pass after a moment and the woman's expression grew intimidating again. She noticed Ray looking at her, and she looked him in the eyes and nodded at him. The woman seemed ready to kill every Alliance soldier on Hera. Ray returned the nod.

"Look at these people. They deserve something that no one can give them." Ray stated somberly. "Thank God I was transfered outta' the marines. I could of ended up looking like that guy." Ray looked back at the man who was rubbing the coin.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse stepped around people that were struggling to walk which were in their way, and others who were laying upon the floor seeming to wait for something. He paused as a man who was using a long metal pole as a sort of crutch walked in front of him. When he passed by Morse continued walking. He tried not to look at the people all over his ship, their tattered bodies and downtrodden faces were something which could put the cheeriest man in a depression.

As he activated the door control to enter the lower deck hallway he heard Ray speak again. The door slid open, revealing several men who were laid down on the couch and seats. Boxes were strewn all around, and there was just barely enough room to walk down the hallway. Every single room and hallway looked just like this, though it wasn't quite as bad in the upper deck.

"Well there gettin' about the only thing we got left to give at this point, a break from the fighting." Morse noted a pause and Ray began to speak again. Morse would give him a pass on not quite being as knowledgeable about the structure of things, as technically he was still a Marine. "Well, in all likeliness, were you attached to any other unit, you wouldn't look like anything. They don't find many bodies when ships explode." Morse said, pointing out that there wasn't almost anything left of the Independence Navy or it's Marine Corps for that matter.

He dodged and evaded hanging materials which were strung up to the ceiling panels, such as bandaging and supplement canisters, which might be needed on a moment's notice. A man lay on the ground, with another soldier over him padding his forehead with a filthy rag which was covered in dirt and blood. As he lifted it, a severe burn was seen on the other soldiers head.

Morse hung tight to the right of the hallway to get around him. He walked the rest of the length of the corridor till he reached a door at the end. He touched the doors control panel, and it slid open with a slow grind. It needed oil, as it was starting to get slower than it should.

On the bridge sat a thin man with very shiny white hair in the left chair, manning it's console. At the forward right chair sat an overweight man with glasses on his face. Both men turned in their chairs to face the group which had just entered the down slanted room.

"We all set to head back captain?" Asked the blonde haired man. All of his features stuck out in comparison to the rest. He had bright blue eyes, and his skin was considerably paler then everyone else's.

"Yeah, were all set." He answered back, stepping into the room, to let the others by. Pickle moved towards the right of the room and leaned against a wall. Into his mouth he placed a cigarette. Originally Morse had a problem with people smoking on his ship, but over time had grown not to care as it was the only thing that many people could do to stay sane.

"Willy, you hand off that sequence to Andy?" He asked the overweight man sitting in the navigational chair.

In a very optimistic and polite tone he responded. "Yes sir, I did. If we blow on a fast wind, we should be there in about fifteen minutes. Give or take, depending on skiff deployments." Willy had been their navigator for quite some time now, and was very good at what he did. He chose to keep a sort of optimism at all times. He knew times were hard, but he wouldn't let it get to him.

Morse turned to look at Andy. "Best be watchin' out for other birds then. Run it hard, up and out." He said remaining standing, but hitting a few switched on the left wall beside him to activate ventilation safeties, so it wouldn't get extremely hot from engine burn off while they flew. Andy and Willy also went to work activating different functions in preparation for the ships massive engines to activate.

[Ray Hudson]

Ray scoffed when Morse mentioned that there was a possibility that he could have exploded. It made him a bit uneasy knowing some of the way's his life could have gone, and most likely have ended. Ray didn't believe in destiny or fate, however luck and coincidence were totally viable explanations for the way things turned out.

When the three of them entered the bridge, Ray immediately sat in the chair behind Willy and placed his assault rifle beside him. Pickle leaned on the wall between Ray and Willy and began smoking. Ray didn't smoke himself but he loved the smell of cigarette smoke. His Mother was a heavy advocate of cigarettes during Ray's youth and he became accustomed to the smell and learned to like it.

Ray unbuttoned his coat since he did not like sitting with it enclosed. His open coat revealed Ray's bullet proof vest. Normally Ray would wear his vest underneath the shirt beneath his coat but due to recent events, he began to wear it over his shirt. Ray felt more comfortable with his vest visible as it gave him a sense of security. It was a constant reminder that in the event of a bullet hitting him, chances were that he would survive.

Ray leaned back, let out an sigh and looked around. Feeling the need to strike up a conversation, Ray spoke.

"Hey Willy," Ray spoke to Willy directly but was really addressing the whole room "did you hear about the old opera woman? Apparently, people are saying that there's this old chinese woman singing at battlefields. According to some people, they can hear some woman singing beautiful opera music in the midst of the carnage and destruction. People are shooting, blowing shit up and then, boom, they'll be hearing La bohème. I got this letter from an old friend of mine, Gillespie, you guy's don't know 'em but he said that he actually saw her. He said that she was off in the distance and was wearing some kinda long floral muumuu." Ray told the story by kneeling forward from his seat and looking at each of them in the eyes and moving his hand's a lot. This was Ray's standard story telling procedure.

[Bishop Morse]

Willy listened to the story as he worked at his console. He stopped when Ray got to the middle, a bit bewildered by it. He looked at Pickle, who had laughed a bit at the concept. They looked at each other during the middle of it, Pickle shaking his head at it while taking a drag off the cigarette. But they let him finish, and Willy turned around to face his console. But he did have something to say about it.

"Well it's highly unlikely that this woman actually exists. It's probably just Shell Shock kicking in combined with exhaustion." Willy explained, as the idea that a woman was standing on a battlefield that rough was nearly impossible to fathom.

Pickle too added something to it. "Yeah, and besides it's not like anyone would be able to hear music like that with all the racket going on out there. And if even they could, that means she's close enough to be hit by those shells anyway. So she'd be ripped to bits before she could even get a word out." Pickle spoke profoundly. Of course most of Pickle's phrases were made up. Because if they weren't, that meant he knew everything about everything, which they all knew wasn't true since he'd been caught on it a few times.

Morse turned around and closed the door to the bridge so they wouldn't have to worry about anyone stopping in to bother them for a visit. He had listened to the story like the others, but was with the rest in thinking that such was impossible. But he didn't say anything on it, as the rest of them had.

"Alright, well I best be announcin' the departures and destinations." Bishop said walking forward and to the left to the only console which was open. He sat down and brought up the handset which was connected to the intercom. He clicked a button on the side, and a crackling could be heard on all the monitors in the ship.

"Ladies n' Gentlemen, this is Major Morse, commander of the Logan here. We're liftin off now, and headin' to Charleston Outpost in Sector 38-L. We should be arriving in about fifteen minutes, so just sit tight, as the ride might get a bit bumpy." His announcement was quick and short. There wasn't really anything else that needed to be said to the people on board, as they didn't know him, and he didn't know them. He wasn't even required to give that information, but it seemed like a good idea every time he did it.

He set down the handset, and spun around in the chair. He nodded to Andy, who then took hold of the controls on his console. There was a muffled tone throughout the ship as it's mighty engines roared to life. Dirt around the ship picked up and came into view of all those on the bridge, and the wind blew it a little once it got up. Then suddenly everyone was able to feel like there was a change in forces, as the large vessel began to lift off the ground and up into the air.

[Ray Hudson]

Ray listened to the response from his story. He agreed with Willy and Pickle, It was impossible for something so far-fetched to happen.

"Well, Gillespie doesn't exactly have a history of making sense. Did you know that the whole reason he joined the war was because he thinks that if we win he can do whatever the hell he wants?" Ray asked them if they knew this even though it was obvious that there was no possible way that they could. "He thinks that when we win, he'll be able to drink all the alcohol, do all the drugs, rape all the woman, and kill anyone he wants’. Stupid son of a bitch." Ray paused for a moment. "Funny guy though. Real funny." Ray would now do what he always did in a conversation. He would go from topic to topic in a heartbeat and he would continue talking, regardless of who was or was not listening. Just as long as one person was listening to him, he would go on. "There was this girl we knew back in our last year of school together. Nicest-ass-you've-ever-seen. I mean this was the kind of ass that took down Troy." Ray made mention of Greek Mythology from Earth-That-Was. He remembered the lessons of Greek Mythology from back in his early years of schooling, it being one of the only topics in school that interested him. "Name wasn't Helen though, it was Sonia or Wendy or some shit. Anyway, Gillespie was obsessed with that ass, not with the girl herself, but with her ass. I wasn't into her myself since she wasn't all there in the face. She wasn't fat or nothin', with the exception of her ass, she was just kinda ugly. But Gillespie would fuck anything with a set of eyebrows." Morse made his announcement on the intercom, but Ray continued with the story. "So Gillespie tells me 'I'm gonna fuck the shit outta that girl', and he promised me every day that he would fuck that girl within the month. I told him he would fail horribly and that he should probably kill himself, but that didn't stop him. So he starts talkin' to the girl, they start hanging out, and eventually he tells us that the two of them are a unit and he'll seal the deal in little to no time at all. I ask him where she lives and he says 'Oh she actually lives right by me. I live in Blue Tanglewood and she lives in Brown Tanglewood so she lives like a few minutes away.' Then he says 'as soon as I'm done with her ass my dicks gonna be called Brown Tanglewood.' When he said that I laughed so hard I thought I was gonna puke. Anyway, so a few days go by, month's almost over, and for last couple of days Gillespie hasn't been talking to the girl. He doesn't even mention her anymore. I ask him 'hey, where’s Brown Tanglewood?' and he tells me he doesn't wanna talk about it. So one day me and him are walking down the street after getting something to eat, and he see's Brown Tanglewood. He tells me to walk faster but it was too late. In no time the girl is right in front us, screaming at Gillespie. She's yelling and yelling about 'You motherfucker! You string me along, blah blah blah, you didn't tell me you had a girl you fuckin' snake, blah blah blah.' Then, in the middle of her shouting, BOOM! Gillespie punches her right in the face. knocks the bitch out cold. Her face starts bleeding, and I'm freaking out, I'm like 'What the fuck man! What the hell!!' and he tells me to walk faster again so we just left her there. It was weird because I never saw that girl again. She never came back to our school, and I never saw her in the street. Gillespie was fine though, he didn't give a fuck. So yeah, funny guy that Gillespie."

Ray finished his story and leaned back in his chair.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse set the handset down, and heard Ray near the end of his story about Gillespie. Of course he knew who Gillespie was, he had grown up with him. But he was a poor degenerate, and wasn't worth much. The particular story didn't put him in a very good light, but it was a very good description of who Gillespie was. He had heard that Gillespie might have signed on with Independent's, but he hadn't gone looking into it much. Without a doubt, the Browncoats could do without him.

He turned around to see the ship lifting up through the air and it was moving over the desert. It was very dark beneath them, but they could see flashes all around beyond them. Everything was nominal, and working as it should as far as he could tell looking at his console. He only turned around to hear what Andy had to say.

"Why would you even bring that up?" The bright blonde man said. His expression was one of snide confusion, which wasn't uncommon for all of them when they were confused by logic.

Morse had nothing to add to the question, as he too was a bit confused. He had to stay a bit more engaged then the rest though. He was currently responsible for the lives of everyone on board so he tried to avoid getting involved with it. Reaching into his coat and drinking from his flask, he turned to the members of his crew currently on the bridge.

"Right guys, Willy, I need you to be tracking movement, and see if we need to alter course at all." He looked at Willy while he spoke, and stood up out of his chair. "Andy, take us to 2,000 feet and level out." He walked up the two steps to stand on the higher portion of the bridge where Ray, Pickle, and Andy were. "Ray, just man that gun, we are in a war zone here. Pickle you... stay vigilant." He said to the two men who were on the right side of the bridge. Ray was technically manning the gun where he was sitting, as the small cannons mounted on top and beneath the ship ran through the console he was currently planted at.

Pickle just took another drag off his cigarette. "Right." He said, pulling down a fold out seat which was attached to the wall behind Ray's console. He proceeded then to sit upon it, placing his rifle against the wall beside him.

Morse had expected no more from him. They weren't exactly the most disciplined crew, but they did their job right. And because of that, there was no need to enforce the 'Codes of Standards and Practices'. He just leaned against Andy's console watching the ship continue to rise.

[Ray Hudson]

With Ray's story finished, he awaited the other's responses. Andy asked why he would even bring up the story and Ray waited for Morse to give his orders before answering. He turned his attention towards the console.

"I dunno, I guess I just feel this obligation to entertain. I ran out of knock-knock jokes in the first week when we had a pilot I actually liked. So I guess the only other way to entertain others is to tell stories from my, or other peoples, past that I find interesting. Unlike you Andy, I don't just take up room and fill our workspace with that cashew-and-sweat aroma that seems to follow you wherever you go. No no, I have this dire need to keep other's happy and entertained. I would tell a story from your past, Andy, to enthrall everyone but your just aren't a very interesting person. Now if you want to be the one responsible for starting the conversations then be my guest, I'd be happy to take a break. If not then shut the fuck up, put your stupid goggles on and just listen." Ray said most of this in a calm tone, only raising his voice at choice points. "Consider this a lesson for the future. This is something that you may use later when your trying to pick up woman." Ray paused. He was facing Andy but at that moment. "Ladies love a guy who'll just sit there and listen, who'll just take in everything they have to say and accept it. Woman don't like to be disagreed with, it's just a fact. Now I know what your thinking, I'm comparing myself to a woman, but I'll be the first to tell you that I share a few traits with woman. Like my conditioned hair and my smooth skin." His hair was dirty and his skin was rough. As he mentioned his hair and skin, Ray ran his hand through his locks and rubbed his arm, acting posh and pristine. Ray made jabs at himself frequently, his reasons were this. He figured that if he pointed out flaws or potential insults in his character or a statement he just made It would prevent people from using those things against him. It didn't stop people from trying but it did stop Ray from caring. "So Andy, until the war's over or one of us dies, just consider me your teacher. Now I know I don't everything about woman but I do know that they a good listener. So just sit back, listen and don't-say-anything. It doesn't have anything to do with you being annoying or stupid, this is all just to give you a skill that will benefit you in the future."

Ray did what he always did when someone said something that he took offense to. He went to far.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse heard Ray's heavy barrage. At one point in it he looked to see Andy's reaction, wondering if how he was taking it. He objected to no part of what Ray was saying, Andy did smell like the underside of the ship during a planet side waste dispersal most of the time.

"Hey, half the people on this ship aren't exactly, you know, the cleanest of people right now. Times are tough." Andy said defending himself from the bombardment of insult that was directed towards him.

Pickle took the cigarette out of his mouth a moment and looked directly at Andy. "Yeah, but the difference is you smelled like that BEFORE times got tough." He spat at the pilot.

The crew started laughing at the shot at Andy. The funniest jokes were the ones which were true, and that was one thing that they had all spoken of at one point or another. The only one who seemed to want to defend Andy was Willy, who decided to speak up on his behalf.

"Well at least he doesn't smell of spilled canned beef and yesterdays smokes like you Pickle." Willy shot, getting the response he likely expected as the crew on the bridge began a collective chortle of amusement at it.

Morse looked down at Willy, deciding that an equal ground was needed for all. "I guess you are the expert when it comes to the canned beef aren't ya' Willy?" he said pointing towards the navigators large belly, which was clearly evident through the shirt under his brown uniform.

The crew convulsed in laughter, with the exception of Andy, who was ready to defend Willy to return the favor. "Ok Morse, drink up, we'd hate for you to be Sober for more than minutes at a time." He smiled as he said so, while also looking out the wind shield.

The whole group of them were laughing. It was good to break up the tension caused by war, because it helped them keep their humanity. Morse was barely able to keep down another sip of the 'homebrew' in his flask from all that was being said.

Then suddenly there was a beeping sound which came in as a hard shrill throughout the bridge. They all knew what it was, the moment it began resounding through the air. They all become suddenly alert as they heard the sobering words spoken by Willy.
"CAPTAIN, MISSILE LOCK!!!"

[Ray Hudson]

Ray was happy with the outcome. His barrage of insults had caused a chain of insults directed at everyone in the room. Everybody was laughing and having a good time. Ray's attempt to entertain had been successful. Laughter filled the room and for a moment he forgot how cold he was.

Sadly, the good time was interrupted by the announcement of an incoming missile.

Ray was fully aware of his fear of death and he felt no remorse for it. Death was his biggest fear and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. The thought of death was enough to cause Ray's mind to spiral and his stomach to churn. Ray would be the first to admit that he was a coward and he would also be the first to laugh about it.

With some people, it took a real bad situation for them to panic and believe that they were facing death. Some people would display confidence and believe that they could pull through. Ray was not such a person. With Ray, it took very little to cause him to lose it. Just the mention of the word missile forced him into a panic.

However, Ray would sometimes display feelings of daring, courage (stupidity) and confidence in more dire situations. In a tough spot were any logical person would give up, Ray would feel good and confident. These occasions of bravery were rare and few people saw this side of him. He was complicated when it came to fear, death and hopelessness.

In this situation, Ray wasn't showing full cowardice yet, but the early signs of lost hope were showing when he uttered the words, "Oh shit."

[Bishop Morse]

For a whole second there was not a single word spoken, not a breathe taken nor given. Just utter silence as the full effect the crushing wave of terror fell upon the crew on the bridge as a result of that dreaded phrase, and that horrifying alarm. All eyes were wide, all muscles tensed, in a moment of absolute adrenaline build up. It was so quiet they could all hear the click of the alarm as it prepared to make it's next blaring tone signifying a proximity alert.

BRRRRRRRR!

The sound of the alarm came again in the bridge, joining in on the shared moment of exclamation, as the entire crew on the bridge. The sound would only be heard on the bridge, but some men standing outside the door could hear the loud alarm, though they didn't know what it was. A yellow light in the upper right corner of the bridge switched on and off, representing a serious warning to the on duty crew.

"PULL UP!" Morse yelled to Andy, though the ship was already bending hard into a heavy vertical climb while twisting hard to its portside.

"Tracking where it's coming from, and altering course!" Willy yelled, somewhat vainly and they all knew it, since it was undoubtedly tracking them. Never the less he started viciously attacking his console with his fingers trying to make good on his promise.

Morse quickly grabbed the chair at the front left console, but didn't sit in it. For now he was just using it for support as they made a heavy climb. There was only so much they could do since this vessel was much better as an out of atmosphere vessel.

Throughout the ship there was a collective fear on everyone's face. The soldiers desperately clinging to pieces of the ship trying to hold themselves in place. In the cargo bay, some of the people were sliding and shifting on the floor as it suddenly was shifting direction. Many were already braced for takeoff, but this was a rougher ride then they had anticipated.

Morse grabbed the handset to the intercom, needing to get a hold of the men in the engine rooms. He squeezed the button on the side activating it. There was only one thing which he thought might help. "Activate all cooling lines!" He yelled into the com-set in his hand. Without it, the strain Andy would be putting on the engines right at that moment could cause the system to overheat and go into an auto-lock, which would slow the ship down considerably until it was cool enough to proceed again.

The announcement came but mere seconds before there was an incredible tremor which ran through the ship. The sound of hull bending to the will of a heavy unknown force from outside was heard resounding through the ship. Anyone standing was suddenly knocked to their feet, as the ship violently shifted hard to the left and jolted up, very unnaturally as something had struck the side of the ship.

[Ray Hudson]

Ray began to panic. The sound of the alarm and Willy frantically trying to change their course made it worse. Instead of making himself useful, Ray instead watched the situation unfold. Andy was pulling the ship higher and higher, and Morse grabbed a chair for support. Ray had his arms spread wide on the console, gripping the edges with all of his might. He tried to remember the term for what he was doing. 'Brace for impact' came to his mind.

A string of curse words came from his mouth in a mutter. Ray wanted to shut his eyes but he couldn't, his body would not allow movement. Ray's vision slowly left him, until he was practically blind. He imagined a woman. She was a waitress who was serving him food and she was explaining to him, the dangers of scorpions. Her name was Tracey and she told Ray that scorpions are disgusting bugs that seem to have one purpose in life, to Harm. They poison, frighten and murder.

Ray was trying to calm himself down by remembering a peaceful conversation from his past. This was an exercise that his father suggested to him to help calm him down if he ever found himself out of harmony. Ray hadn't tried it before and just waved it off as trash advice. Due to the recent outcome, however, Ray felt that he was no longer above the exercise and tried it out. It wasn't working, he was getting pieces of the conversation wrong. The woman wasn't a waitress, she was a teacher and she wasn't describing scorpions she was talking about her students. Ray was mixing several conversations with each other in his panic. The therapeutic exercise wasn't working and he would later scold his father for suggesting something so stupid to him.

When the missile made contact with the ship, it jerked Ray back into reality and he welcomed the real world with loud yelling. In an attempt to ease the nerves of everyone on the bridge, Ray shouted these peaceful words,

"WERE GONNA DIE! WERE GONNA DIE AND IT'S YOUR FAULT ANDY YOU STUPID MOTHER FUCKER!!" This was then followed by more yelling.

[Bishop Morse]

The shaking continued in the ship as it suddenly began to fall into a brutal decline. Rocking violently with every square inch of air they hit. People all throughout the ship were beginning to panic, as they felt themselves being lifted up. Most tried to hold themselves down as the vessel came ripping towards the ground bellow. There was the heavy sound of the thrusters trying to remain active, as the crew tried to keep the ship, and it's cargo, alive.

No one on the bridge commented on Ray's blatant accusation. It wasn't uncommon for Ray to blame someone for absolutely no reason at all, and most of them had been on the receiving end of it. They all had something that they needed to be doing, and they needed to try to keep sane so they could accomplish as much as they could.

"Willy! Send out a distress call...." Morse yelled, having to pause to keep himself steady through a particularly violent shake. "Wide-band feed, get us help!" He yelled. He turned around, and looked at Pickle who was trying to hold himself in place in his chair. "PICKLE! Secure hatches and rigging panels... NOW!" He yelled at the large man who wasn't moving much as he was considerably scared about was happening. But then he got up and moved to the wall across from him on the left side to try to close off the safety doors to prevent any loose cargo from smashing the people in the hold.

Andy was desperately trying to regain control of the ship, but it was incredibly difficult. "I'm losing power on starboard engine. And we've got some serious damage on forward paneling just ahead of the engine." Andy yelled, not looking at anyone as he spoke. Instead he was looking out the bridge view port, and down at his controls. His altimeter was showing that they were losing altitude faster then he wanted, and he was trying to keep them level.

The starboard engine had Hoffman as it's mechanic, and they hadn't heard from him. And if he wasn't calling in, that meant he was hard at working keeping the engine spitting like it should. But they still had no idea as to whether he was having any progress.

Then they heard something over the intercom that they all dreaded. The voice of Hoffman was playing in the bridge.
"Starboard Engine cooling is failing. She's starting to overheat!" Hoffman yelled.

Unfortunately that didn't mean it would lock up. With the Port side engine working at full capacity, it may begin the lockdown. But the starboard engine was heavily damaged and working at well less than half capacity. So even if it did lock up, it would have no effect.

Pickle and Ray likely had no idea what that meant. But Morse turned and looked at Andy, who looked right back at him. They both knew what that meant, but Morse was the first one to voice what was going to happen.

"Try to make it soft." He said. Then sitting down in the chair, and spinning around to try to do something about keeping the power cells flowing right. He didn't even consider taking a drink at this point, as there was no time for it.

[Ray Hudson]

Ray’s eyes were wide and he was breathing hard. He had absolutely no idea what to do. Sure he was on the gun, but that wasn’t going to be of any use at all if they had no target, and they were burning down over the skyline at several hundred miles per hour. He really wanted to do something, but because he couldn’t, he really wished someone who could would do it for them. He was clutching at his head, moving his fingers through his hair, as though he would find the answer to their problems there. But it wasn’t do any good what-so-ever. He could do nothing but sit, watch the dark landscape come closer and closer, while listening.

”Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” Ray repeated over and over again, looking at their various panels. It reminded him of being at school, and not knowing the answer to a question, and trying to find the answer to it on other peoples tests and on the walls. But the other students covered their work or wrote small, and the walls had nothing on them other then paint. Here it was no different, since he didn’t understand what any of the systems did, what they controlled, or how to use them. The only thing he did know was the red light that was flashing, and the alarm that was blaring meant bad things were happening.

He heard Morse give a statement. ”Try to make it soft he said”. When it was spoken it was as though everything else had hushed so it could be said. Morse was standing at a console in front of Ray and to the left, so he heard it clearly. But Ray wondered desperately what it meant as Morse sat down and started working.

”Make it soft!?” Ray repeated. ”Make…make what soft!?” Ray demanded, hesitating as he’d try to find the words. ”Make what soft!” Ray yelled at Andy, but as he received no reply he continued to press for an answer. ”Answer me you stupid bitch!” Ray demanded. In his mind he’d already reached a conclusion as to what it meant, but he wanted someone to tell him he had the right conclusion, and that he wasn’t just making a boulder out of a brick.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse moved the various controls on his console. His monitors were showing the power cells were in the yellow. But surprisingly the system was holding stable, and even though it was reading there was a considerable problem with various cooling systems and the starboard engine was having a lot of trouble, the power cells were still working without needing any alteration. Unfortunately, just having a steady flow of power, wasn’t going to fix the fact that the engine on the right side of the craft wasn’t working. He lifted his head up and stared out the large window which shown the outside. It was very dark, and he knew the ship was moving very fast. The worst part was that he knew they were going to be hitting the ground very soon.

”Do you want me to drop the landing gear!?” Andy called out forward at Morse, who was facing the same direction he was so he didn’t see it. Andy was working as hard as he could to try to keep control of the ship. But with an engine that wasn’t responding so well, and the entire direction of it’s velocity being altered, it was very difficult. Though the shifting was only by a few degrees, it was a drastic augmentation which caused the ship to lose altitude, and start moving directly downward without being told to.

Morse’s eyes shot wide as he heard Andy’s question. ”Jwohn gao Bu Yi. Only if you wanna lose it.” He answered. But there was another question on Morse’s mind. ”Impact time?” He demanded. It was a strange question to anyone in a normal conversation in normal circumstances, but these were anything but.

Andy looked over his console and checked their altitude, their speed, and came to the conclusion. ”17 seconds!” The pilot replied. The answer got a great variety of responses from the people in the room. Willy swore a quite a curse. Pickle rolled his eyes, and gave a sarcastic laugh while quickly moving across the room towards his pull out seat and strapped in. But for Morse there was only one thing left that he could do. He grabbed the handset and activated the intercom.

”THIS IS MAJOR MORSE, WE’RE GOING DOWN AND HITTIN’ THE GROUND. BRACE YOURSELVES!” Morse ordered. He was in command of the vessel. He wasn’t sure if he was the most senior officer on board, but he was between branches, so even if he wasn’t, he could call the loophole. As odd as it was, this was the thought that went through Morse’s head. Even as alarms were blaring, and he could feel the ship dropping, all he wanted to think about was his placement in rank. It was probably just because the mind was able to cope with what was going on. His mind jumped back to reality fairly quickly. The Logan’s running lights had been on since they started going down, but only now were they able to see ground. The circles of light on the ground got brighter, and brighter, and bigger, and bigger. The ship was coming in low, but much slower then anyone would have thought, almost like it was about to skim.

Every muscle of every man on the bridge tensed up and they all held on to whatever they could.

And then there was a crash, the sound of grinding metal, and the entire vessel was shaking.


There was a horrible grinding sound as the craft slid across the dirt. There really weren’t any sparks that could be seen from the bridge, because the ‘head’ angle had been tilted straight ahead in anticipation of the crash. But where there was no visual, it was made up with lots of sound. The sound of the alarms seemed to disappear behind the noise iron scratching against earth. The ship seemed to slow down gradually, and shifted to face right slightly, while still going in it’s original direction. It grew slower, and slower, and slower. And then suddenly everyone was pushed forward, harder then before, as the ship sank into a dead stop.

Morse grabbed his console and pushed himself back up. He kicked the alarm off, and looked around. There was only one thing that really came to his head at that point and he it just slipped from his mind to his mouth.

”Ta ma duh”

[Ray Hudson]

Nobody was answering Ray. He needed somebody to answer him. Why wasn’t anyone answering him? The vessel was still shaking and rocking on hits way down. He had given up on looking at the gun terminal because he couldn’t see anything through that. He had started looking out through the windshield in front of them. He was having trouble making out what was out there, but he could swear he could see the ground. As time drug on slowly he could heard Andy give the call of 17 seconds, and then his eyes almost went back into his head. ”Oh God, we’re fucked!” He yelled as the vessel seemed to have a serious change in velocity. It was like the forces from outside were starting to effect them more as they came closer to the ground.

Ray was not feeling so well. He felt like he was going to puke all over the ground. With the whole ship shaking and the fact that he knew they were about to hit the ground, really weren’t mixing well with him. He watched Morse grab the handset and give the announcement. He wanted to yell something about how doing such a thing was pointless, but at the same time he guessed it was something they could do. When he heard the announcement over the intercom, it was odd, but Ray did what the announcement said. Something in his mind told him that because it came over the intercom, that he should listen to it. He grabbed the arms of his chair and held as tight as he could, wrapping the his arms through and locking them together with his hands. That was about as he could get it. This was when he saw the running lights connect with ground, and his eyes widened up once again as his panic erupted once more. ”Wond Ba Duhn” He yelled just before the ship hit the dirt.

The grinding and scraping sounds coming from the outside was almost unbearable. It was as though he was losing his mind because of all the noise. The ship was shaking even more then before, and was even tilting in direction. Through all the noise and shaking Ray’s mouth never closed. He was giving out a loud horrified yell, but it was as though nothing was coming out. Not because his voice had been scared away, but because the noise was so loud he couldn’t be heard, and that was pretty hard to do as far as Ray was concerned. His eyes went from being wide open, to being slammed shut and held tight, as he couldn’t really make up his mind. But as the ship jack-knifed, it seemed to slow down by a lot. And then finally it stopped, throwing everyone forward. Not out of their chairs, but they were caught off guard, especially Ray, who had to catch himself on his console.

He looked outside, and it was still pitch dark. He looked at the others. His hands were shaking, and he was breathing with tremors running through his whole body. He looked around for something to do. ”Well what the fuck do we do now?” Ray yelled out, though it was much quieter then he had been yelling previously. He just needed to hear something that seemed like they had things under control.

[Bishop Morse]

Morse looked around outside. He couldn’t see anything outside except for the brown dirt, which they had been sliding on. It was very dark outside, other then what the running lights were catching, which was quite a problem, because he needed to know exactly where they were. He checked the communications to see if they were still working, yes. They still had power, and everything seemed to be in proper working order. But they had just crashed, and they didn’t know exactly where they were. Unfortunately it was rather likely that they were much to far away to get any help, but he didn’t know that for sure. ”Willy, get on the com with regional command. Use a secure feed, and tell em’ supply and wounded vessel ‘Errent Red” is in need of assistance where ever we are.” Morse told the large man sitting next to him, who was starting to sit up. They needed to make sure it was a secure feed, otherwise the Alliance would coming running to raid the supplies, and capture the wounded soldiers to keep them out of the fight. The simple fact was, they were probably the easiest, and most valuable target for any division passing by.

Andy was already working to see if he could get the engines back up. ”I have a stall on the starboard engine. We’re not going anywhere until it’s fixed up.” He said to Morse. He didn’t need confirmation on this though, he grabbed the comlink to the engine room. ”Hoffman, the starboard engine is having a major stall, but I can’t figure out what it is.” He said, lifting his finger off of the com. ”On it.” The voice of Hoffman replied over the speaker on his console. At the moment Hoffman was probably the only one who could fix it up. Of course they had another mechanic, but Hoffman was better with these engines, had been there longer, and was faster.

”Well what the fuck do we do now?” Ray demanded from them. He didn’t exactly have any job on the bridge in particular, so it was no surprise he needed something to do.

Morse looked at his console. ”Let me think of somethin’ here, I think we……” Morse stopped when he heard an unwanted yet familiar voice come over the radio.

”I’m gonna start offloading the wounded.” Said the voice of Lieutenant Miner. But instead of there being a click off over the radio, you could still here him talking and giving orders. Miner was the officer commanding the marine attachment on the ship. He was an absolutely terrible leader, and an even worse soldier. Everyone on the ship hated him, but he clung tight to his command. He was prone to making rather bad decisions, and Morse always had to override him. Miner had only been placed on board the ship because this theoretically wasn’t supposed to be a very rough sort of assignment. But unfortunately, that hadn’t remained the case for the last few months ”No, No! Don’t!…. dammit.” Morse stopped realizing that the Lieutenant couldn’t hear him. He then realized he had a job for Pickle and Ray. ”You two, go after 49, do not let him offload the wounded!” Morse said. He understood the very stupid rationale behind 49’s thinking. If they had crashed permanent then they might move everyone. But since they were probably in enemy territory, the idea of running outside was pointless.

Pickle quickly got up, grabbed his rifle and started running quickly off the bridge towards the cargo bay. He dodged through the hanging supplies, and the people on the ground who were confused, trying to get to the back end of the ship, before their idiot Lieutenant started going forward with his plan.

[Ray Hudson]

Shock kept Ray's legs from lifting him up. He had requested direction and he received it but Ray couldn't stand from his chair. Pickle had already gotten up and made his way towards the cargo bay and Ray needed to follow. He searched the floor for his rifle and found it resting by Willy's chair. Ray reached over for it and held it tight in his arms. Breathing and thinking for a moment, Ray finally stood from his chair and jogged after Pickle. He managed to catch up with him in short time and walked beside him as they made their way to 49. They passed several confused soldiers and many of them were asking each other what had happened. Ray needed to talk since complaining and conversing helped him vent and clear his mind.

"I can't believe this. You know I could be bleeding internally? Coulda' snapped a rip and pierced an organ. I could be bleeding to death right now." This was all false as Ray felt fine but this did not prevent him from acting like a hypochondriac. Ray had a tendency to overreact.

Once in the cargo bay Ray scanned the room for 49. Most of the supply boxes had fallen and scattered all over the floor. Many had their tops fall off and their contents rested on the floor. Magazines, gauze, food and other supplies were sprinkled on the metal floor. Many of the wounded men and woman were now standing or attempting to lift themselves up with the aid of others. The cargo bay was full of soldiers. There was about 100 marines on the ship in total and about 70 of them in the cargo bay alone. Nearly all of them looked confused and many of seemed angry. Ray noticed how scattered everything was and was displeased to see all of the stacked crates and boxes turned over and emptied out on the floor. He was less pleased to see Lieutenant Miner issuing moronic orders to the wounded soldiers.

"To ma duh." Ray muttered. He began walking toward 49 with much haste. As he approached him Ray called out to all of the soldiers. "Woah woah woah, Hey hey hey! Everyone stop!" He was now standing before the Lieutenant and Ray had a very displeased look on his face.

"What the hells the matter with you?" Ray asked sternly in a loud whisper. He paused for a moment, wanting an answer but continued without one. "And take your finger of the button." Ray ordered the Lieutenant, still keeping the conversation somewhat quiet. 49 looked at Ray quizzically, not knowing what he was referring to. Ray picked up on this and lost his patience. "ON THE COM YOU IDIOT!!" Ray hollered. This final display of stupidity was the straw that broke the camels back and Ray initiated the ruthless belittlement. "Are you fucking retarded? What the hell did you hope to accomplish by taking the wounded outside of the ship!? What are they gonna wheel their IV out and hold the lines!? THAT GUY HAS NO EYES!!" Ray screamed, pointing both hands at a sitting soldier with bandages wrapped around his face. At this point every person in the cargo bay could here the tearing and ripping of 49. "You're a fuckin' moron, you know that?" Ray asked the Lieutenant in a growling whisper. "YOUR A GODDAMN IDIOT MONKEY WITH SHIT FOR BRAINS!!" Ray roared, violently tapping 49's forehead with his index and middle finger.

This was therapeutic. Ray was frightened, worried and his natural response was to get angry. 49's incompetence was a convenience and it helped Ray clear his head greatly. he looked away from 49 and shook his head. "Fuckin' ridiculous."