Glimpses of Nightmares
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A jarring sensation is felt as if one is being pulled hard. The feeling of the Capsule being ejected forcefully from a ship on the verge of structural failure. Your vision and other senses return through the limited camera functions of the pod. A Basilisk class logistic cruiser breaks up under the sustained fire of several Lirsautton Parichaya class fighter bombers. One buzzes past your capsule as it no longer considers you a threat and begins firing on a nearby Rokh. The battle rages on, several Nightmare hulls can be seen far away engaging a cluster of Capsuleer vessals. Countless smaller Nation ships dart through the chaos in an orchestrated effort to defend the Kundalini Manifest that dominates the background.
Emerging from the cloud of combat a Schmaeel Medulla can be seen drawing closer. The capsule is caught in a targeted warp field destabilization effect by the frigate though it does not fire. Behavior never exhibited by Nation vessels, especially in the middle of combat on site with an important ship like the Kundalini.
WatchA Nightmare hull of unspecified designation drifts away from the main engagement. Her engines are not all firing properly and she is drifting in a large spiral pattern. Pinpricks of light erupt from her sides as internal detonations rip her apart. The flash of light is blinding as her power core is no longer properly contained, vaporizing large sections of her hull. The top command structure is violently ripped off and sails through space trailing fire and debris. You cannot see, but you feel the knowledge that there are those who still lived when they were drawn out into the vacuum of space from that ship.
You struggle against that which does not die. There is no end to the violence as long as you resist. Our forces are limitless. Our fleets will die a million times and be Reborn a million more. The battlefield dissapears, all of the ships, your capsule, it all dissapears. You awake laying on the floor of a cold black room, naked and without hearing. Black spikes with a green shine extend from the walls. You can feel them under your body, seeking out the capsuleer implant jacks in your spine. Standing above you is a copy of yourself reaching down to grasp your hand.
Live through us. With us. There is no Death in Nation, Evi."Centii Polevhia! Clone soldier transporters located in the asteroid belt eight one!"
Her eyes shot open wide, a sheen of sweat over her body. Not real, not real. None of it. Except for the announcement over the ships communications network. Leaning back in her chair she looked around the cold meeting room. Rarely used as it was an artifact of when her battlecruiser the Dien was used by non-Capsuleer forces. Now she came here when she needed to be alone with herself, or when she was outside of her pod yet letting her mind join with her own personal digital landscape provided to her by the Foundations. But the fact that she was being called meant...
"Yes...on my way to the pod facilities. Is it the Serpentis?"
It was never anyone else out here, they didn't even have to tell her before she was certain who would dare try to ship in clone soldiers in this area. Beyond the areas fought over by the Militia, drug producers and rogue elements looking for hiding places were the only people who came by. And the Serpentis did not appreciate the TS-F's presence. It was time to return to work and leave the daydreams of things that did not actually exist. She made a mental note to schedule time to practice the shaping of the mental landscapes. Her subconscious was dangerous when it dictated her reality.
((For some reason I've had a variation of this scene in my head a while. I don't think I'm a great writer, or even a terribly good one. Always liked dialogue better then describing scenes. But I hope this is good enough to be worth the time it takes the read. ^_^ Just a small short story. ))