Impact on the Tolaria

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Fiction

Impact on the Tolaria
Fiction by Atog

Pre-entry.
This is the journal of Ruke Iceling, as recorded by the computer systems of
the Intrepid class battleship "Tolaria".

Entry 1
I have just found a headset connecting me to the computer system of this
damnedable wreck. The only thing that seems to be working in here is the
system backup function, and I need a way to break away from the tedium. I
have locked myself in one of the officer's quarters. This record will
hopefully be recovered once I either get off this thing, or I die.

Day 0
Grunt had me working on cleaning the air shafts again. The things were
always dirty, even after being cleaned. Dust in this place had a way of
sneaking everywhere, despite the atmospheric cleaners. I was always one to
get this kind of job, always a bit clumsy for the small-scale engineering
work, and too impatient for maintenance checks. At the very least, it gave me
time to think.

Sometimes too much time, I was always thinking about why I enlisted and why
I ever even thought to come out to the middle of nowhere to fight some
space-rats. Harmless things out in space on their own, only had to worry
once they manage to get inside a ship. But that's what I always worried
about, even going to the length of double reinforcing the vents to my
quarters, buying a personal air recycler and water moisturizer. The dust had
managed to surround me on ever side, but at least the vent was finally clean
enough.

Leaving to go take a shower, I bumped into Grunt on the way. We talked a
bit, he is not a bad guy, just a hardass when it comes to working. Guess its
his job to be though. In any case we talked for a minute and then moved on,
last time I'll probably ever see him. I was just about to get into the
shower when the alarm sounded, red alert and it was no drill. I quickly
threw on my uniform, not bothering to latch the shirt, and started to sprint
to the nearest diagnostics station.

Every nearby system was green, but the aft end seemed like it had been hit
by something big. A voice came over the loudspeaker. It warned that all
personnel should get to life rafts, the reactor had been hit. Damn, my
quarters were in that section, it figured though, stuff never happens as you
plan it. I started to sprint down the hall trying to find an escape pod. The
lights started to flicker, and then I remembered that the systems in this
section were powered by batteries located near the impact site.

Ahead I could see a light, and at that point I wasn't about to question
where it came from. Once I got closer I began to make out the guy who held
it. He could barely stand, his knees wobbling and he was swaying slightly.
Once I was nearly on top of him, I saw that his entire right arm was
missing. All that was left was a charred stump and tatters of clothing. His
body was covered in tiny scorch marks. He fell onto my shoulder as I offered
it. I took the flashlight from him, using it to guide my way to the fore of
the ship.

I was looking for the next section that could have power but the flashlight
had cracked some time ago and it was only giving out a flicker. Barely
enough to tell where the walls were, let alone the things we were walking
over. I still shudder to think what they could have been, but I didn't
really want to know. We wandered around in the dark for about an hour, not
really sure about the time on that because it felt like forever. The lights
started to flicker above us, and the alarms stopped. We had not seen anyone
at all yet, but the alarms wouldn't turn off unless the reactor had
stabilized. That was the first time I retched on-station, and several more
times in the following minutes. Around us were corpses, at least we hoped
they were corpses.

The walls were painted red with blood and pieces of. well. pieces were
hanging from every wall. It looked like a grenade had gone off inside of
someone. This poor description doesn't give it justice, but I still shiver
to think of that first time. The man on my shoulder had been out cold for
the last half hour, the shock finally getting to him. I doubted he would
live long, but there was still a chance we could make it to an escape pod. I
hurried on down the hallway, trying not to look when I saw scars of red and
brown on the walls.

By the time I passed the 3rd disabled or ejected pod I was very discouraged.
Ducking into a side-room that looked clean of any blood and had only one
entrance I decided to take a rest. I propped the man up against the door,
hoping to use his weight to help incase something tried to get through the
door. My search of the room revealed very little that was usable, but there
was a can of hairspray on the dresser and a lighter on the bed stand. I
clutched these as I slowly drifted off into exhausted sleep.

Day 2

I woke to the sound of someone yelling. Snapping alert I saw that the
wounded man was at the window, packing his wound with torn bed sheets. He
yelped as he padded the area, trying to clean it out. He turned to me,
asking me to help him tie the sheets off at his stump. After this we started
to talk, it turned out that he was a soldier and had been in the recreation
room when the impact happened. He had sprinted out, trying to get a space
suit because he was worried about decompression. Something had attacked him
and all he felt was his arm go numb and the world black out on him.

When he woke up there were others dead around him. He had taken a flashlight
and started wandering, this is where he met me. We scoured the room looking
for anything that could be useful. We didn't find anything so we both
thought it best to move on. The door opened with a creak, the hallway
outside it was devoid of anything. There were bloodstains on the walls when
we entered the room, now the walls were clean. When I looked closer at the
walls, they seemed as if they had been partially corroded. Patches had long
scars of uneven metal. Shrugging, we decided to keep going away from the
impact site. We did not talk as we traveled, worrying about whatever
attacked him coming back to finish us both.

We came to the main hall. If the inter-section grav transports were working
we could get from one end of the ship to the other in an hour. But during a
shipwide emergency like this they were automatically disabled to stop
boarders from being able to get to the bridge. The hall was used for
merchants of all kinds selling things needed by all people on ships like
this. Clothing vendors were popular, as were the variety of bars and
restaurants, merchants rented out space from the administration and agreed
that they knew the risks of trying to sell their wares on a combat ship.

What greeted our eyes here haunts my dreams. In the middle of the hall where
there was usually a water fountain and monument to the Hegemon there stood a
massive pile of flesh. It looked as if hundreds of people had been piled
together and then melted. Small rodent-like creatures scurried around the
base. They were about 6 inches high at the head, with a bulge on their backs
that stood an extra 6 inches above their head. Their tails were
exceptionally long and they moved surprisingly quickly for creatures with
such a large bulge in their backs. They seemed to be feeding off the pile,
nibbling on the corpses at the outside. I started openmouthed, too horrified
to move or even retch.

A tug at my arm caught my attention. The man was pulling on my arm, his face
was hard set and he seemed confidant. I followed him, too shocked to do
anything else. He led me through side passages trying to find a way around
the main hall. Behind us there was a light squeek. I turned to see one of
the rats looking at me. As a reflex I brought up my arms to shield myself.
As it was about to hit me I was pushed aside, sprawling to the ground. The
man had backhanded the rodent, sending it sailing back through the air. I
fumbled in my pockets looking for the hairspray and lighter. The rat had
come back by the time I got them out. It started squeeling as it ran full on
towards him. His hand connected with it, breaking it's back mid-flight.
Screaming, heat, pain. I passed out. All I know is that whatever had
happened left me mostly intact. I was not able to see when I woke up.

Atog, age 18, contact: appleorange64@hotmail.com
Copyright 2003 Atog.
Reviews and comments requested.
Posted 11/02/2003