Blood of the Behemoth

The boarding bay was full of people and equipment going from one place to another, like a busy hive full of working ants. And, in the middle of all that, Trevor Humedd hugged his family as tightly as he could, like he wanted to take their breaths away. Tears flowed from their cheeks, golden drops in the dim lights of the station. Around them, two dozen families were going through the same ordeal of farewells, while the loading crew moved supply crates, machinery and weaponry ready in the last minute.

-Promise me you’ll be careful- demanded his wife, with her voice broken by fear, hope and doubt.

-I will, Marsha, you know I’ll do all I can. But it’s not up to me. At least I know the family will be well with my salary, and we’ll be able to cover the studies of young Archie.-

He poke his son with his finger, but his childish laughter didn’t break the sorrow of the moment. And then a red light and a warning flashed drowning the whole bay in the color of blood, and all members of the crew were called into the belly of the golden leviathan that lay docked in front of them. The hug was broken by the moving people, and Trevor picked up his scarce personal luggage to move inside, waving a weak and fearful farewell that tried to look brave without success.

For a brief moment, he looked up and he saw a big crane carrying the pod of the pilot into the pit that was the control centre of the ship. He didn’t even get to see the woman who had his life in her hands, the god that would control every little bit of his existence during his five month rotation inside the Forgotten Galaxy. He just crossed the doorway into the dark corridors that would become the only thing he’d see for months. Like dark metallic arteries of the giant beast that was the ship. 

Dozens of tons of metal and people maneuvered swiftly through space, jumping on the appropriate moments like a steel monster dancing with the stars. Trevor could barely feel the movements as the pilot handled softly such a massive hulk into positions he never had the chance to see. After all, windows were scarce.

He spent most of his time in the corridors and rooms of the crew: three dozen men and women that worked as mechanics, engineers, cooks… everything needed to keep the beast advancing relentless, with scarce stops in stations every couple days to refill supplies and food. They weren’t allowed to leave the ship in such occasions, so they employed that free time playing cards and dice in the ship’s kitchen. He won many isk, he lost as many, but he enjoyed every scarce moment of solace. Out of them, only awaited the terror of the unknown, and the wait between the important moments.

Of course, from time to time, the alarms of the ship would ring and all crew members were forced to awaken and run to their positions. Somewhere, for some unknown reason, the pilot had decided to enter combat, and her will required all to work as one to increase their chances of survival. No doubts or second thoughts were possible, just completing the duty the ship’s god demanded as quickly as possible before heading on to the next one. All that while the ship vibrated and shook like a maddened horse under the impact of missiles and cannons that went through the shields, and dozens of nanite swarms were deployed and controlled so they went to fix the priority instruments.

They all prayed while they worked during those times, quick hurried words to try and bring the much needed luck to their side. It was all they could do after all, their lives were beyond their control, all in the hands of that alien pilot that guided their destinies among the stars. All they could do was wait and work in the belly of the beast, hoping that each time wouldn’t be the last, praying for another day, one at a time.

The end didn’t come, so their service to the Empire aboard the Forgotten Galaxy meant good sums of isks for their families. Trevor spoke with them as often as he could afford to pay the costly communication services aboard the ship. After all, most were to be employed by the pilot, and the crew members barely had any bandwidth left. Archie had gotten into school, and Marsha was able to buy better clothes and food for both of them, so they were doing well. But they missed him as much as he missed them, and all feared that each time the conversation ended, it would be the last time they’d see each other. Of course, no mention to that was made, and all farewells were “see you again soon” with a smile. A fake, fearful smile.

But he completed that tour of duty and got back to the loving arms of his family in a splendid welcoming that vanished all the fear. Back into the warmth and safety of his city, to his people, to the every-day needs and small problems. Still, he could only stay four months before enlisting again… money was still needed. And the farewell on the docking board repeated, as he once again he entered the same vessel that needed crew again after four months of repairs and modifications.

No one can dodge destiny forever though, and death caught up with the ship two months later. Battle had started as usual, with the lights, the shakes, the stench of sweat and fear. Trevor controlled the nanite swarms and sent them to repair the surface of the ship, but it was too early. The behemoth had to be taking a very serious pounding for it to have lost the shields already. But a small power fluctuation and the vibrations of the impacts on the hull clearly showed such was the case.

Not much later, maybe a few minutes, the order to overheat the nanites came, using them to the fullest. The nanite hives went into overdrive, producing mass amounts of small robots that went directly to keep the ship working, but the damages still mounted on the rear of the ship, and one of the engines exploded sending the ship out of control in a blast. The pilot took quick hold of the ship with the rest of the engines as if she had put down a horse that had started a wild race, but even she could clearly not face whatever was outside. The Reaper had come.

Soon the nanites were overrun, and their over use deactivated them with a crack, while the pressure that had been building opened breaches in several of the conducts, letting out steam and other more dangerous gases. Mechanics were quick to the scene, but they only found Trevor on his knees praying. It was clearly all that was left to do, he was in charge of the armor, he knew better than anyone that time had come.

>>ALL CREW MEMBERS, BOARD THE EVACUATION PODS

The call came clearly through the communication channels, and all workers ran in stampede following the glowing paths in the floor that guided them to the nearest refuge, like the cattle guided to the slaughterhouse. The oval doors of the pods were open before them and they entered them in a rush, closing them with a hiss after them once five of them had entered each, hoping they would be able to take them out of the unavoidable death the ship was suffering and that shook the whole structure to the rhythm of small explosions.

Trevor barely made it to the last one. As the previous one had left with a pod half-full, they had to see how their door closed leaving a man and a woman on the other side, yelling for them to open as they realized their clock had ran out. But there was no space left inside. With a sudden pull and thrust that pinned them to their seats and made one of the engineers empty his insides, the pod ejected itself from the side of the golden ship and started to fall to the planet below, an unknown sphere of brownish-red color.

There was a small window in the door, and through it they could see the pilot’s pod get ejected as the ship was starting to break in two under the massive fire of the enemy. Big, black ships, covered in blood, were surrounding it like flies drawn to a corpse. As the ship blew apart before them, the Blood Raiders started to turn and open fire on the escape pods, like maniac demons hunting on the defenseless. One by one, they were turn into blazing infernos under the fire, until the last of them had their turn.

Surprisingly, the last thing Trevor could think of was that one of the crew members that occupied the previous pod owed him 0,4 isk from last night’s card game.