Obscuritus.ca A nerd making a nerdy blog

The Lost Ships

A ship is your home. It is the only place you've ever known. It's large - with its shops, and parks, and fields. The hyroponics gardens are the source of all life, and the only place you've ever seen real plants. Of course - you are in awe of the gardeners, the only people more valuable than the captain.

The ship is mostly a place of beauty - the parks have been made up with real smells, and perfect artificial grass. Even the dogs seem to think it's real. It's because every care has been made to make the ship perfect. As you hurtle through the space between galaxies - the Captain sits in his tank, the nutrient drip keeping him alive, the ship sliding between this reality and the next, moving from point to point.

With that your eyes open, the dead child in front of you. The bones gnawed by the wild dogs you just killed. The scent of blood is thick against the no longer preserved shreds of artificial grass. Your heart is heavy as you remove your hand from the child's face - breaking the mental contact. You take a few minutes to steady yourself - feeling things through the eyes of a child, even for a few minutes, always messes up your sense of self. Viewing the death-perceptions of a child never sat easily with anyone.

The ship had come out of the Beyond just outside the orbit of Jupiter two days ago, and everyone panicked for half an hour while they waited for the IFF to come in. Of course, it wasn't a comfort when they realized it was a Lost Ship. And so the Collector Team was sent in, a bunch of marines mostly, you, with your Djinn, and the Oracle.

"Over here. A young boy, he remembers the Captain. Definitely a Planeskimmer", you call out to the others.

The marine lieutenantwalked over, her gun carefully pointed toward one of the trees, and her eyes had begun darting from place to place far faster, "You sure it's not a Wyld Ship? The edges of the Feywyld have nearly come out this far".

You shake your head, "Negative, the Captain was sedated, definitely a Devil. The kid didn't know which Lord of course. I hope it's not Nyrrykuuruk - I hate bugs".

Gerald, the doctor, came over and began to check over the child's corpse - setup the scanner to take an intensive scan, and to begin the autotopsy on the image. We'd know what killed that child soon - but we were pretty sure someone had shot him before he could be possessed. A definite waste of a life, but colonies were too important. Europa and Titain were beginning to get fairly crowded.

You pull out your gun, a shitty sidearm, not what you hoped for, and begin heading for the habitat zone. Warlocks always begin with the housing, those on sleep shifts, and the Warlock probably is too bloated to move at this point. Wilson, the Oracle comes up beside you, with the stare of someone looking into the Astral. Your walk feels very deliberate, and very ominous - you know that in the next few minutes you're going to be in a battle for your very mind. You hope you don't have to shoot anything until then.

Gerald and LT begin following you - as does Sarg and two of the privates you've not met yet. The other five marines begin setting up basecamp, you're fairly certain that there will be a lot of wild dogs, and more than a few possessed. You'll need a safe space to come back to - and you hope that you wont need to sleep here.

You've never been on a Lost Ship before - but are rated to be the foremost expert on them - ever since you slew Tluulalil, a demon who had made it onto Mars. It was then that Mentors were banned from the Inner Solar System, and the Astroid Circle had been scrawled. Now, you get to do all the demonhunting - including the fourth Lost Ship to have been found in the last four centuries. And now you are on one - and the air is thick with the scent of blood - and the Astral has been stained red with the leakage of demonic energy.

One of the privates opens the door to the habitation zone - and the other one over his shoulder immediately fires three shots into the Possessed that begins to try to rip open the door. The whole place is a mess - the creatures eight legs were still twitching, and the creature burst open. The ectoplasmic stench as its guts spilled open and the additional parts began to discorporate into the air. Fortunately, you were used to that. You swore in your mind, Nyrrykuuruk, the worst demon lord. It was disgusting.

The two privates stepped into the hallway, and the other two marines in the group began clearing. The Oracle sat down and began bringing up a summoning. You wish you had met a Simurgh on your quest through the Astral - the easy way feathers were simply burned, and the Simurgh appeared. As it happened, your felt the pain in your stomach - you'd been fasting for three days in order to get together the means to conjour your Mentor.

The Simurgh begin to interface with the computer. The creature was so old and knowledgable that it had seen the destruction of three worldds. Long enough it knew all things from all worlds. It knew more tricks that anything - and immediately began downloading the ship's logs. After what you'd seen in that boy's mind - you hoped to not have to look. The whole place is covered in blood and smells like brimstone.