PBP House

Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
Advanced search  


Upgraded to the latest version of the forum software. Let a mod know if you experience any issues.

Pages: 1 ... 16 17 [18]

Author Topic: Episode III: External Interference  (Read 14501 times)


  • Moderator
  • Expert
  • ******
  • XP: 12
  • Posts: 1166
    • View Profile
    • The Flux
Re: Episode III: External Interference
« Reply #255 on: January 21, 2015, 02:42:29 PM »

The doors close on the lift and Dr. Espenson does not hesitate to provide his own elevator music, humming out the tune of ‘Escape’ (Rupert Holmes).  Though the tune is ancient, it is oddly familiar.  Suffolk gives him an exasperated frown before sighing and shaking his balding head.  Before the doors open at Bridge level, the other crewmembers who have followed Susan have begun humming along.

Michael and Hank pass through the Engineering access conduit and are blasted with an abundance of harsh steam that reeks of burning oils and failing coolants.  All systems had been either completely drained of resources or are now recovering from recently being over-taxed.  The catwalk pathway glistens with the oily sweat making footholds unsure and slippery.

In their own ways, Michael and Hank can feel the ship.  They know that she is recovering.  She gathered all her power, amassing it in the sensor array.  Gathering more than she should and then releasing it all in a vomitus heave.  But to what end?

Doctor Weaver follows the horrified stare of Abigail as she watches the pulse meet the incoming missiles.  Weaver manages to pull the feed to her own monitor. 
Video Materializes showing the path of the pulse and distorted space in its wake.  The missiles, for lack of a better name, are roving, quavering, micro-stars that maneuver but fail to evade the pulse.  Weaver quickly sends the feed to every monitor on the ship. 

The micro-stars are bathed in Sleipnir’s pulse. 

The stars pause in their progression and their intense light falters and dims.

Michael and Hank find the ship’s pulse thruster control.  The suite of controls displays the scene Doctor Weaver sent.  The star-like missiles seem to lose consistency and dissipate.

Michael and Hank work desperately, calculating a flight path.

The missiles scintillate in a confused pattern, their images nearly impossible to view without inspired nausea.

Michael and Hank settle on a simple set of coordinates… A short burst.  Enough to get away.

Susan and her crew burst into the bridge area.  Heads turn except for Sattison who slowly raises his weapon. 

On the screen, the missile-stars begin to dissipate, losing their brightness and slowing as the pulse affects them.

Michael and Hank finish with the calculations and wait for the indicators to go green.  … Calculatiing.

On the bridge, Susan runs toward Sattison, screaming for him to drop the weapon.  Sattison continues to raise the weapon slowly, his back to Susan and her crew.

Doctor Weaver can only watch as another bloody scene is about to unfold.

The missiles sputter and begin to break up.  Dissolving and losing energy until they fade in to a sparkling dust.

Susan lunges at Sattison, a desperate effort to bring him down but as she leaps his weapon reaches his temple and discharges a flat, moist spray.  Susan tackles a limp, lifeless body.

In engineering, Michael spews a litany of profane phrases as the lights remain yellow and continue to display, ‘Calculating’.  They watch as the little suns, once hurling toward them, disband into stardust. 

The couple breathe a collective sigh as they watch the screen, hoping the assumed danger is over.  Then they watch as the dust takes on a more lively sparkle.  Then begins to coalesce.  Slowly coming together into one larger star.   

With blinding speed, the star hurtles towards Sleipnir; brightening, expanding. 

All on the ship watch as the dust becomes a more magnificent sun and bears down on the ship much faster than before.  There are only moments before contact.

The lights in engineering go green and display, ‘Calculations approved. Ready for Pulse’.  Michael hoots and  slams the ignition… Just as blast of star-sung energy slams into Sleipnir, tearing reality to microscopic shreds.


  • Moderator
  • Expert
  • ******
  • XP: 12
  • Posts: 1166
    • View Profile
    • The Flux
Re: Episode III: External Interference
« Reply #256 on: June 17, 2017, 09:47:52 AM »

A dreadful silence is interrupted by an alien yearning to pull air into your lungs.  The yearning becomes a desire that bleeds into anxiety where internal alarms sound and survival instincts are triggered.  A futile struggle is accented with some red light filtering in through the nothing that was everything. 
Muffled voices with panicked tones edge their way into the silence while a blurry, confused world unfolds.  Red light flashes rhythmically between sterile white radiance as phantasm memories slowly return.  Flailing bio-tubes, coalescing missiles, gun-flare, then… Nothing. 

An eternity of absolute nothingness.


Bliss interrupted and vanishing in moments that didn’t exist before.
And now… pain.  The pain of virgin existence returned as if it had never been. 
You cannot help but futilely gasp and pray that you will be rewarded with a birthing scream.
You are denied.
You cannot move and you don’t know why.
You can hear voices and alarms ringing.  Panicked and shrill.
Vision is a red pulse followed by blurred and sterile incandescence.
Smells trigger memories of forgotten times and lost places that cannot be confirmed and refuse to be denied.
Your mouth is occupied and incapable.


  • Expert
  • ******
  • XP: 8
  • Posts: 1252
  • Mope n' shuffle, mope n' shuffle™
    • View Profile
Re: Episode III: External Interference
« Reply #257 on: September 22, 2017, 04:16:05 PM »

Voices floating...

Thoughts swimming about and rising to the surface as if they were bubbles rising to the surface of a slimy, algae covered stagnant pool...

Michael tries to move, and finds herself unable...

The stink of fear. The metallic stink of blood. The stink of panicked, unwashed bodies is eclipsed by the memory of exhaust fumes, of real, authentic, antique gasoline. Fresh grass on a hot, sunny day, baking in the fields. Rain. Susan...

The thought drifts...Susan...Where was she? Who was Susan? What is happening?

She struggles to break the surface of consciousness...Twisting and rotting in her own memories...or are they hers?
« Last Edit: September 23, 2017, 05:05:52 PM by Tschel23 »
"Was that a guy? I can't tell."

'They have worlds out there, people that you wouldn't believe. But they do not have chocolate.'  John Crichton A Human Reaction: Farscape
Pages: 1 ... 16 17 [18]