Resurrection

Posted on Feb 08, 2016 @ 8:17pm by Captain Michael Turlogh Kane

Mission: Promethean

"RESURRECTION"

(Continued from "My Two Jakes")

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Captain's Log, Supplemental - with contact with the away team still lost, the Phoenix is preparing to do what it can to solve some of the mysteries of the arctic complex...

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Location: USS Phoenix, orbiting Lavenza II
Stardate: [2.16]0209.0015
Scene: Bridge


Michael Turlogh Kane got up from the centre seat as the hour needed to prepare finally expired. The Phoenix was still in her geosynchronous orbit above the unidentified arctic base, contact with the away team was still lost, and a rescue attempt of sorts was about to be launched. It had been decided that knocking out the base's subterranean generator was the best way to deactivate the surface scattering field that was hampering the ship's operations.

To locate the generator, the Phoenix's shipboard phasers were to be used to burn off by degrees the kilometre-deep layer of permafrost until an outline of the base was made. That accomplished, a torpedo strike to the likely depth of the generator would set off enough of a seismic shock to, at least temporarily, knock the generator offline.

Kane looked at the main viewer, where a grid overlay of the operational area was laid out. At the bottom right of the god's-eye-view was the USS Lena, still isolated and alone, and some distance away was marked the exhaust shaft through which the away team had gained entry to the complex.

There were risks, he knew. If the base was not structurally sound, then the very act of burning off the permafrost layer could cause minor earth tremours which might affect the away team. When the torpedo strike was launched, there would likely be a strong seismic event that again could cause injury to anyone in its vicinity. Lastly, if something went wrong and either the phaser or torpedo strike (which itself needed a warhead configured to an EM range) were awry even by tiny distances, they might hit the base itself, causing structural damage that would expose the interior to the dangerous Lavenzan atmosphere.

Mackenzie Procter was standing by at Tactical under Byte's watchful eye, feeding the limited sensor data into her computer to create a surface impact pattern. The phaser beam needed to burn, not disintegrate, and it had to move relatively slowly across the permafrost, altering its depth as needed to account for topographical changes on the surface. It was an operation not suited to be done manually - once initiated, the computer would guide the phaser, and the bridge staff would monitor its progress.

Procter looked up and nodded at Byte. The android in turn looked down at Kane. {{Firing solution complete, Captain. Initial phaser burst will be at grid location D-2 at a depth of seven-point-six-nine metres, proceeding directly northward at one metre per second. Ready to begin on your order.}}

Kane looked again at the grid overlay, weighing up the risks. He loved and respected his crew dearly (not that he would ever tell any of them that), and the idea of adding to whatever danger they were in made him want to abort this whole thing. Tactically speaking, though, injury to a certain number of away team members was an acceptable outcome to the operation - with the generator down, the Phoenix would be able to intervene decisively in whatever situation was underway down there.

To put it bluntly, it wasn't possible to make an omelette without breaking some eggs.

Finally, he turned back to Byte and gave the order. "Fire when ready, Lieutenant."

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Location: Lavenza II arctic base
Scene: Lab Level


They had been moving through the facility for almost an hour now, and Aerdan Jos knew that the away team was approaching the central core. The tricorder data was still fuzzy, but by making several readings and cross-referencing them, they worked out that the maze was shrinking. Fewer and fewer corridors were appearing in their data streams, and the rooms were growing larger - mainly automated computer processors and other engineering-related machinery.

Barton and Kass were acting as a point team while Aerdan, Russ, Eve, and the two Jakes slowly followed. The biggest surprise of the mission thus far had been the meeting of Jake Crichton's double, and Aerdan made sure to keep as much distance between the two of them as possible. There was obvious bad blood, and the duplicate Jake obviously hated the original, which Aerdan supposed was understandable. In his universe, he was the original Jake Crichton. Here, he was nobody.

The floor trembled, a small shudder that ran through the deck plate like a shiver through skin. As one, they froze and looked around. "What was that?" asked Aerdan.

"Some kind of earthquake?" said Jake.

Eve and Russ were checking their tricorders. "No," said Eve. She frowned. "Something's happening, tricorders aren't getting so much interference anymore." She looked up. "Commander, it's phased energy! High concentration, moving northward parallel to our position!"

"Ya think the Cap'n's up ta somethin'?" voiced Kass from up ahead.

"The Phoenix is the only ship around here capable of firing phasers," said Russ. "Unless?" He looked at Jake's duplicate.

"Well?" asked Aerdan, jabbing the business end of his phaser at the one-eyed Terran.

"Mark Seven shipboard disruptors," came the reply. "It's your ship alright."

"They must be burning away the permafrost," said Eve. "Energy reading's past us now, moving away."

"To what end?" asked Jake, the real one.

The answer came to Aerdan in a flash. "They're outlining the base's dimensions in preparation for a strike against the scattering field," he said, a smile slowly forming on his face. "Excellent!"

"Is there any way we can help?" asked Jake. "I mean, we're probably too deeply underground for them to beam us out even if the field is brought down, but if one of us was on the surface - "

Aerdan was nodding. "We could get back to the Lena and restore communications with the ship!"

New hope lit up the eyes of the away team as the possibility sank in.

James Barton stepped forward. "Commander Jos, I volunteer to try to reach the surface. I'm stronger and faster than anyone here. I can climb that turbolift shaft much quicker, and I stand a better chance in a fight than any of you."

"Havin' 'roid balls must mean ya don't have any brains, Jebediah!" said Kass suddenly. "Have ya forgotten about the atmosphere, fungbrain? Ya can't breathe it fer long! Not ta mention all the goddam monsters!"

Barton put a hand on her shoulder, and Kass stopped talking. "You know it makes sense."

Aerdan made up his mind. He nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Make sure you have a phaser and a tricorder with you. Make your way up to the surface. When the scattering field comes down, get back to the Lena and raise the ship."

Barton nodded. Everyone was looking at him with a silent mix of respect and worry. "I'll do my best."

There was no time to say goodbye. His wrist-light activated, with tricorder in one hand and phaser in the other, Barton's hulking form moved away into the dark.

Aerdan turned to the rest of them and gestured forward. "Let's keep going."

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Location: USS Phoenix, high above
Scene: Bridge, as before


Kane watched the main viewer. The magnified display showed the same god's eye view of the arctic complex, now slowly being outlined by a sizzling bright white lance that was carving its way through Lavenza's surface. In its wake, a huge cloud of superheated steam was blooming and then dissipating quickly, obscuring the impact point of the phaser beam.

Byte came down to stand beside Kane. {{Initial sensor readings indicate that our plan is working, Captain. Sublimation of the affected permafrost is one hundred per cent, which is rapidly breaking down into its constituent molecules. As it does so, sensors are able to more effectively scan the area around the scattering field, which, as we anticipated, was only designed to affect the immediate area of the complex.}}

Kane nodded. They now had a good idea of the dimensions of the arctic base below them. "Good. When will we be ready to make the torpedo strike?"

{{Seventeen minutes, eight seconds. The base is likely connected directly into the planet's molten core. The computer is continually updating the sensor data, but based on area-effect thermal scans, we estimate the depth of the torpedo strike will be around two thousand feet down. That will mean a brief interlude while we cut into the planet's crust itself, but will not alter the original plan. The impact of a torpedo configured with an electromagnetic warhead will temporarily shut down any and all computerised systems in the vicinity, including the particle scattering field.}}

"When that happens, we'll need to move fast. Their systems might have multiple backups to restore power quickly."

{{Indeed, sir. At the very least, we should receive sensor flash data of the entire complex, which will allow us to pinpoint the locations of the away team.}}

"Very good, Mister Byte. Carry on."

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Location: Arctic Base
Scene: Outside control room


All roads lead to Rome, mused Jake Crichton as the corridor finally terminated in a large door. It was marked Sector 001, something which reminded him of Earth, that maybe was supposed to be a joke.

There was no doubt about it. This was the command centre. All the corridors of the base tapered down to this location, one bulkhead door with a single viewing port. They must have been a mile deep into the planet by this point, and his spine shivered when he realised the weight of rock around them. They needed answers - who had built this place, why did they want the fleet's medical records, and why the hell were there so many genetic freakshows running around.

He kept a close eye on his duplicate. The other Jake Crichton, a twisted reflection of himself from the so-called Mirror Universe, seemed to know that now was not the time to cause any trouble, and had been complying with all orders given to him so far. But Jake knew that his double was him - in a real and literal sense - and that if he were in this situation, he would waiting and watching, watching and waiting.

Jake resolved to watch and wait too. When his double made his move, Jake would not be surprised.

The away team flattened themselves against the walls of the bare corridor as Kass approached the bulkhead door, looking down the barrel of her pulse rifle.

"Tricorder's not showing anything," said Eve. "This must be where the scattering field is being generated from."

"Mah sensor nets ain't good fer nothin'." Kass slinked up to the viewing port and slowly, slowly moved one eye over the port before shaking her head. "Ah'm blind, Commander. Scattering field's distortin' mah nets. Someone else better git yore butt up here."

Jake moved forward to her side. Immediately, he saw that the door was several feet thick and had no control panel anywhere near it. "How is this thing supposed to open?" he whispered.

"No point askin' me, marriage material," said Kass, activating the safety on her rifle and slinging it over her shoulder. She felt her way back to Eve's outstretched hand.

Jake peeked in through the viewing port.

"What do you see?" asked Aerdan from somewhere behind him.

Jake squinted. The room behind the door was gloomy and lit by the various lights from the multitude of computer panels that lined the walls. In the centre of the floorspace was a large, sarcophagus-like device. Blood was spattered on the floor, and his eye followed the murky line up to the opposite wall, where some upright stasis chambers were installed. They reminded him of old-style cryogenic sleep capsules, with a transparent bubble lid. One of them was empty, but the other contained a figure. As Jake looked closer with growing alarm, his eyes travelled up the arm of a Starfleet uniform to a blue collar underneath the green-skinned chin of Samantha Perry. She was restrained inside the capsule, her eyes darting around in fear. She looked haggard - several sucker-like marks were on the skin of her face, and clotted blood ringed her nostrils and mouth.

"It's Sam!" exclaimed Jake.

Aerdan moved forward to his side while Russ trained his phaser on Mirror Jake. The Andorian looked inside. Together, he and Jake looked on with worry.

"Is there a way to get this door open?" asked Aerdan.

"No, Commander. I can't work miracles," said Jake.

There was someone else moving in the gloom, and Aerdan and Jake watched in growing horror as they saw that it was a man. Something was wrong with him. His back peaked in impossible places, as if he had two broken spines. The nape of his neck bristled with spaghetti-like knots of tubing splayed against his shoulders. His arms seemed distended, preoccupied with erratic scooping motions. His medical coat was shredded where new skin had burst through it.

"Is that Conniston?" Jake breathed in horror.

Russ shoved Mirror Jake forward. The pirate took a look inside. "Yeah, that's Conniston, but he looks different now. He looked normal when we met him. Maybe he's been taking some of his own medicine."

"You think Conniston might have been experimenting on himself?" asked Eve in shock.

Jake looked back in. Sam Perry had caught sight of them now. Her eyes were alight with silent pleading. Jake slapped his hand against the viewing port, but it was utterly futile. He watched Conniston move to the side of Samantha's capsule and manipulate some computer controls.

"He's doing something," said Jake.

Aerdan pulled him back and trained his phaser on the door. The orange beam lanced out and began to cut through the tritanium, but slowly. Jake knew immediately that they would be too late.

Through the flash of the beam, he saw that something was happening inside Samantha Perry's capsule. Some sort of clear oily liquid was seeping in from the bottom of the capsule. As it ran over Sam's feet, then legs, her body seemed to melt away like snow being touched by boiling water. The oil reached her waist, and her legs were no longer there, just a mass of the liquid, but her eyes kept looking in panic at Jake through the viewing port. There was no gore or other body fluid - it all seemed to be absorbed by the colourless oily liquid that swallowed up her hands and belly.

She's looking right at me, thought Jake in horror. She's looking right at me, and oh God I want to look away, but if I look away she'll be all alone as she dies.

The oily liquid filled up the capsule, melting and absorbing Samantha's head into itself. There was now nothing inside the capsule except the viscous soup, that began to drain out again, leaving nothing behind it. Samantha Perry had been wiped from existence.

"She's gone," said Jake to Aerdan. "Commander! She's gone."

Aerdan looked through the viewing port at the silent, empty capsule that was not completely drained.

Over their comnet came a crackle, then a voice. [[I apologise for keeping you waiting, but as you no doubt saw, I was processing your companion. Please do not continue to shoot the door, Commander Jos, you will be admitted presently.]]

The away team stood stunned as a great grinding of gears somewhere within the walls started up. The bulkhead door shuddered, then began to swing outward.

[[Come in, come in,]] came the voice of Saul Conniston over the comnet. [[Come in and see what I have in store for you.]]

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Scene: Turbolift Shaft


James Barton kept going, arm over arm, legs pumping like pistons as he continued his climb up through the thirty-plus levels to get back to the surface. His biceps and thighs were burning like fire, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. If the away team was correct in thinking that a rescue attempt was underway, then it made sense that they should do as much as they possibly could to help. If his genetic enhancements could assist in some way, then he would try to lend a hand.

His wrist-light cut through the dark above him, but the turbolift shaft was enormous from top to bottom, and his light did not stretch very far. His heavy breathing echoed around the shaft, bouncing off the plasteel walls and fell down, down into the dark.

He paused for a moment. Was it it his imagination, or was there a vibration on the metal of the ladder that was not being caused by him?

There it was again. Someone, or something, else was on the ladder, but he couldn't tell whether it was above or below. For a moment, he considered the awful possibility that the enormous scaled humanoid was hunting him and he caught his breath in fear, but the imperative quickly asserted itself.

James Barton would do what he had always done - he would keep going.

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Scene: Control centre


Led by Aerdan Jos, the away team moved cautiously forward into the arctic base's command centre. The place was equipped with advanced medical computer equipment, things that were unfamiliar and probably still theoretical.

Saul Conniston awaited them in his lair.

Aerdan kept his phaser up, wondering what this place was. He beckoned Conniston forward. "No sudden moves, Conniston!" he said.

The mad scientist teetered into the light, his eyes glassy and nearly bursting from the sockets. His nose was streaming murky fluids streaked with red blood, mouth smeared with something thick and slimy that ran in yellow threads down onto his shirt. All about him was a web of IV tubing, connected to various canisters with biohazard symbols on them, making him look like some sort of mutated hedgeghog. One of his arms had warped into a parody of a bird's claw, and patches of his skin were rough and scaly.

Aerdan levelled the phaser at Conniston's face. "What is this place?"

Connison seemed to be shivering. "It is the nerve centre of Project Promethean," he said, voice wavering. "It is the repository of all the genetic information in the Federation and beyond. It is the drive towards the creation of the perfect organism, one that the Neo-Essentialist movement will use to secure their hold across the worlds of the Federation. Humanity First, not Federation First. The other races of the Federation will conform or they will die."

Aerdan's antennae shot straight upward as he realised what the mad Terran was saying, but he fought his growing anger and forced himself to think. "What did you do to Ensign Perry?" he asked harshly. "Speak quickly! Is she dead?"

"Dead?" gurgled Conniston. He looked like he was about to explode. "Dead as you know it, yes, but immortal! Her genetic material is now a part of the Promethean Device's database!" he moved to the sarcophagus and turned a switch on its side. The thing activated with a thrum of power, lighting up its interior and running a diagnostic across its displays. "Like Captain Rainner before her, she has joined the great primordial soup from which we all came from!"

Aerdan looked in distaste at the sarcophagus. "What is this thing, this Promethean Device?"

Conniston sighed. "It is not easy to explain."

"Try."

"Very well. Imagine, if you will, that all the genetic material of every species, sentient or animal, across the known galaxy, are building blocks. Interchangeable building blocks that can be swapped out, or exchanged, or reconstructed in any number of ways to create a new life-form." Conniston's hands moved around in a series of spidery motions to punctuate his words. "Most of those combinations are, of course, biologically incompatible, but many are. Many more are compatible with extra work. That is how I created most of the life-forms now loose in these corridors - with genetic building blocks."

"But that wouldn't work for higher life-forms," said Jake. "Animals, maybe, but not sentient beings."

"What is sentience?" asked Conniston rhetorically. "Is it something that can be transcribed into computer code? Of course not. But yet we manage to computerise it through the use of transporter pattern buffers. We disassemble a fully-sentient higher life-form, beam it across a distance, and reassemble it on the other side. Its conscience, its consciousness, its self-awareness - none of these things are affected."

Aerdan's antennae were slowly curling up and down like they always did when he was thinking deeply. He realised, with amazement, what Conniston was saying. "This device is a transporter of some kind, but operates with genetic data?"

"Is that why you wanted us to steal the Starfleet medical records?" said Mirror Jake suddenly. "Their medical records would have their last transporter records included with them, right?"

Conniston's eyes glowed."Yes."

Aerdan wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but the possibilities it was opening up were horrific. "This device of yours is responsible for all sorts of genetic horrors loose in this base," he said, setting his phaser to maximum. "I'm going to destroy it."

"No!" exclaimed Conniston, throwing his arms across the Promethean Device. He started to frantically jab at the control panel. "Look at what I can do! See! I reach into the afterlife and I command death itself!"

"Step away!" ordered Aerdan, but the device was already activated. It began spooling up its machinery, and a series of panels lit up independently along its sides. The sarcophagus lid clicked shut and locked, illuminating itself from within. Thick, clear liquid began to fill up in the interior chamber, pooling at the bottom but quickly filling up the sides.

"What did you do?" exclaimed Aerdan, shoving Conniston away from the device. The mad Terran fell to the floor, his coat falling up, revealing more of the hideous IV tubing consuming him like a cancer. Aerdan guessed that Connison had been experimenting on himself, and was riddled with drugs as the new genetic information had had introduced sought to override his existing DNA.

The Andorian looked down at the interior of the Promethean Device. Already, a skeleton was visible as a number of internal beams criss-crossed over and back, over and back, building by layers a bone structure, a blood supply, an endocrine system, a brain, a heart, a stomach.

A new life was being created inside the sarcophagus. Aerdan looked down at the display, and was shaken to the core to see that Conniston had called up one of the fleet's service records to use as a template for this new genetic experiment.

The service record of someone they all knew well.

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Location: USS Phoenix, high above
Scene: Bridge


The white phased polaron beam stopped. On the main viewer, the sublimated frost-cloud dissipated, breaking up into its constituent elements - hydrogen, oxygen, argon - but now the dimensions of the arctic base were clear to see. Parts of the base had been revealed as the permafrost layer had cut down into the earth, and one on side there was a deep tunnel bored into the rock of the planet where the shipboard phasers had cut down to the measured level of the base's generator.

"Prepare to fire EM torpedo," said Kane.

"Torpedo ready," reported Procter from Tactical.

"Arm torpedo."

{{EM yield will be short-wave, two thousand feet subterranean penetration,}} reported Byte from Ops. {{Sensors standing by for flash data.}}

"Let's hope we get more than that," said Kane.

"Torpedo armed," reported Procter.

Kane nodded. "Let's get this rescue attempt under way. Fire torpedo."

"Firing!"

The dull thump from the forward torpedo launcher was only barely audible, but the purple missile streaked away from the ship on the main viewer, casting a line down into the atmosphere of the planet, bound for the tunnel carved into the planet by the phaser minutes before.

"Torpedo on target," reported Procter. "Warhead armed. Impact in five, four, three..."

On the god's-eye-view of the arctic base, the torpedo dropped like a stone down into the black tunnel.

"Two...one..."

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Location: Arctic base
Scene: Control centre, as before


The legs, the arms, and the rest of it - it was all there. Aerdan looked up to the face as the oily liquid began to drain away. With a clunk and a hiss of air, the lid of the sarcophagus opened automatically, and as Saul Conniston and the rest of the away team looked on, Thomas Varn opened his eyes and sat up, blinking in confusion. He was the same man - the brown hair, the rainbow eyes, and even the white wings that Aerdan remembered were there, dripping wet as the amniotic fluid of the Promethean Device dripped away from Thomas' body. Naked within the womb of the device, the newly-reborn man was looking around in shock.

His eyes fixated on Aerdan. "Commander Jos?"

Aerdan could barely speak. The rest of the away team - blind Kass, Eve, Russ, and the two Jakes - were looking on with a mixture of awe and horror at what had just happened.

"Thomas?" said Aerdan. "Is that you?"

A slow nod. "Yes. What's going on? Are we still on Limbo? I need to tell the Captain about Lieutenant Arn - "

"Limbo?" gasped Aerdan. He wheeled and seized Saul Conniston by the collar. "What have you done to him?"

Conniston shrugged out of Aerdan's grip. "I have resurrected him! The Promethean Device has reconstructed the myriad genetic templates that make up this man, cross-referenced it with his medical records and transporter records, and imprinted the last known transporter pattern records upon that template!"

Aerdan looked in horror at Thomas as he realised what had happened. "This is... monstrous! Thomas Varn is dead!"

"No!" said Conniston, a shrill edge coming into his voice. "Don't you see? I and my Promethean Device have conquered death!"

And the world tipped sideways. Aerdan slammed into the floor as as explosion detonated somewhere beneath them, somewhere deep within the bowels of the earth, an explosion that sent an awful shudder through the room. Arms flailing, he slammed his head against the side of the Promethean Device, bending an antenna painfully backward. As the room shook, he heard the others screaming. The lights flickered and went out, plunging them into darkness.

Aerdan realised he had dropped his phaser. "Report!" he bellowed over the hubbub.

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Location: USS Phoenix, high above
Scene: Bridge


Kane watched as the sensor data poured in.

{{Particle scattering field offline.}} Byte frowned. {{Captain, the EM pulse has also negatively affected the base's seismic safeguards. Several of the base's systems have overloaded and burnt out, but the security lockdown is now offline.}}

"Can we beam any of the away team out?" asked Kane with worry.

{{Not until they get to the surface,}} said the android, {{and even then we run into the same atmospheric problems.}}

Kane punched his right fist into his left palm. "But with the security lockdown, they should be able to get to the surface faster, yes?"

{{That is the hope, sir.}} Byte's attention was diverted. {{Captain, sensors are able to interface with the base's remaining active computer programs.}} He looked at Kane in the eye. {{You will want to see this, sir.}}

Kane ran his eye down the data stream. Genetic experimentation. Neo-Essentialists. Project Promethean. He set his jaw. "My God, Mister Byte. We've just opened Pandora's Box."

He looked at the main viewer, silently urging the away team to get to the surface.

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Location: Arctic Base
Scene: Command centre


It was madness. An alarm was shrieking somewhere in the background, and a strange thrumming noise was pounding up from the depths of the planet. Aerdan hauled himself to his feet, seeing that most of the computer panels were offline. The control panels of the Promethean Device were a smoking ruin. He knew immediately that the device had been overloaded and destroyed.

Shadows and shapes moved around him in the darkness. He reached out and seized one. It was Jake Crichton, the original. "Mister Crichton! What's happening!"

Jake didn't look worse for wear, although he had managed to scrape his elbows on something. "An electro-magnetic detonation, I think! The security lockdown's been knocked offline!"

"Good!" exclaimed Aerdan.

"No, sir!" said Jake, as another awful tremour lurched through the base. "The power supply to this base is tapped directly into the planet's core, and by the the feel of it, it's unstable as hell! The raw volcanic power of the planet itself is coming up through this facility's power systems! Everything's being overloaded! We've got to get out of here, and we've got to go no!"

Aerdan looked at him in horror! "You mean - "

"That's right, sir!" said Jake. "She's going to blow!'

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NRPG: Ah, the Big Finale. That's right, folks, he's back. Please REMOVE jkphillips82@gmail.com from your mailing list, and ADD tvarnposting@hotmail.com

Welcome back Justin!

ALL: Thomas Varn (a form of him, at least) has been returned to life through the odd power of the Promethean Device. Continuing our Frankenstein ("The Modern Prometheus", another reference that nobody got, sigh ;) ) theme, it happened in front of the away team, who saw him being recreated from nothingness. How would your characters react to that? Is this the real Thomas Varn? Is it a clone? Is a lump of meat with memory engrams thrown in? Does he/it have any right to call himself Thomas Varn?

Justin is back in control of the (butt nekkid) Thomas Varn, who is now a regular PC again. As you can tell, he's confused and has been plunged into a situation he has no background knowledge of. He'll need your help to get out of it, and, if it is to be his fate, to adjust to 'life' again.

But you? You have bigger problems. You need to escape before the fury of Lavenza II's molten core destroys the base (It's already taken out the Promethean Device, so don't think you can kill yourselves and bring yourselves back. That ship has achieved warp speed!)! The security lockdown is offline. The power systems are scattered on and offline - some things work, some things don't, some things can now be made to work.

And there are a myriad monsters between you and the surface. Most of them want to know what you taste like.

This is the climax of "Promethean". It is a freeform ending - that is to say, the ending has not been written yet. YOU will decide the fates of all the remaining NPCs and the Annabelle's Lament without further 'guidance' from the CO ;)

DALE: Who else is on the ladder with Barnes? Brass? Evaer? Bronski?

SHAWN: What will happen to Mirror Jake?

Will Conniston live or die?

Will Brass live or die?

Will Evaer live or die?

Will the Annabelle's Lament escape? If it does, can it really get past the Phoenix without being obliterated?

One more post from everyone please, wrapping up your character-specific subplots and making your escape / killing your character, then I will pull everything together, as there is one small twist I have to make that nobody knows about (not Jamie, not Justin ;) ) I may need a backpost to make that happen, depending on the endings that you choose to write for the story.

Remember to welcome Justin back! DON'T READ THAT JUSTIN! ;)


Jerome McKee
the Soul of Captain Michael Turlogh Kane
Commanding Officer
USS PHOENIX


"He speaks an infinite deal of nothing!"
- Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", Act 1, Scene 1.117

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