Once More into the Breach...

Two security guards walk down a dimly lit corridor at Veneth Industries. Along with Harry who was currently guarding the central systems area, Tom and Jerald comprised the entire night watch crew of the building. The job didn’t pay well (there wasn’t a lot to keep watch of at a low security fabrication center for machine parts) but it was steady enough and it was nice working with friends.

“Hey Tom, Lisa wanted me to ask if you and the kids were still coming over for the barbecue on Saturday.”

“Yeah, I think so. Little Jenny has been feeling ill this week but she was well enough to go to school today so I think the whole crew is coming.”

“Excellent. We always loving having you over and our little ones can’t get enough of Jeff and Jenny. Letting them play will give us some time to enjoy a few beers and watch the game.”

“Oh, I can’t wait. Are you still insisting on betting 20 credits on the Pulsars even with Simmons out on injury. I feel bad drinking your beers and taking your money like that.”

Jerald laughed. “Just you watch. My boys are gonna come through just fine. The Novas have no heart. Literally, they got that cyborg playing for them now.”

As they turned the corner, their flashlights trailed along the wall and something caught Jerald’s eye. Had the hallway always been this thin? He thought he could see some movement, like a shadow that was somehow behind the wall.

“Hey Tom, do you see tha...”. He turned to look at Tom just as a blue stream of energy caught Tom in the arm. Tom was screaming as the blue beam turned to ice and began spreading over his whole body.

“No! Tom!” screamed Jerald. In that instant, he suddenly felt his hair was on fire and oddly enough, his arms had turned to tentacles.

“What the fu... My arms Tom! What’s wrong with my arms?”

Jerald hardly had time to contemplate his current morphology or the reasons behind it. A shadowy figure leapt through the wall with quarterstaff in hand. It moved so fast. Jerald hardly had time to react.

A blow to the side doubled him over and a swift crack to the head ended Jerald’s life. The obituary the next day would read that Jerald left behind an adoring wife and three beautiful children.

Tom, unable to move, was still screaming, partly at the fact that he thought he was freezing to death and partly at the fact that his best friend was just killed right before his eyes. A shot to the head from behind the fictitious wall ended his terrified cries. Tom left behind a lovely wife and two loving children.

The communication device lying next to Jerald’s body crackled a bit and squawked to life. “Hey guys? What’s going on? I thought I heard something.” There was a brief pause. “Hey, are we still on for Saturday?”

Harry would leave behind a cat named Fluffetus Maximus. His obituary did not mention this.

6 hours earlier...

The crew of the Phoenix was ready for another mission. They had spent a few days of relaxation after their last recon job for Traish, more time than their captain would have liked to waste. After some discussion, they decided it was time to revisit Modock.

Modock was a regular supplier of opportunities and information for the group. He ran a bar called Treble in the Platinum district that was a front for a myriad of illegal activities. Lerys, Deckard, and Tobian approached the bar and were nodded in by the doorman. They were regulars.

On the way in, a droid bumps into Tobian, passing him something. Lerys doesn’t notice and Deckard doesn’t care. Tobian was a mysterious man and in Deckard’s experience solving mysteries is bad for one’s health.

The bar is an effigy to excess. Surprisingly clean for most establishments of it’s kind, the interior had a cold, metallic look to it. Behind the bar areas were drinks of every conceivable flavor and expense. Not as visible but equally as available were a candy store of drugs under the counters. Modock was a smart man and payed the authorities well enough to run his bar as he saw fit.

Deckard disliked the place. He was no stranger to bars but the club music and dancing was not his particular brand of entertainment. They entered the VIP area in the center of the bar. As they crossed the dampener threshold, the music was replaced by the gentle hum of electronic equipment in the area that served as Modock’s office and private entertainment lounge. Deckard was thankful to be rid of the awful noise.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite crew. I take it you boys are looking for more work.”

“That would be correct,” responded Lerys.

“Excellent! Excellent!” bellowed the portly man behind the desk. “I’ve got just the thing. Pays well and you’d be doing Nexus a favor. One thing though. You’re gonna have to travel back to the UES system. I know you boys don’t like that.”

Deckard never liked when Modock called them boys. Deckard was fairly sure that he and Modock were about the same age or at the very least couldn’t be more than a couple years apart.

“Once more into the breach,” whispered Tobian.

“What’s that? Speak up boy.”

“It’s nothing,” said Lerys. “We recently made a trip back into UES space. Couldn’t avoid it forever I guess.”

“Wonderful, then there’s nothing stopping you. I need you to go to the McArthur system and infiltrate a chemical production facility there. They are testing high grade explosives, some fancy new compound called Cetaflex. I’m sure you’ve noticed the increase in UES activity around Nexus. I don’t have to tell you that we can use all the firepower we can get if things start going south.”

“Depends,” said Lerys. “If the price is right you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Price? Don’t worry yourself about that El Cap-E-Tan. How’s about 10,000 credits per ton of Cetaflex?”

Tobian chimed in. “Twelve Five”.

“12,500 it is. It’s a deal?”

“Yes,” returned Lerys. “It’s a deal.”

“We need a cover,” added Deckard. “Do you know of any suppliers that make regular trips to the McArther system?”

“As a matter of fact I do. Placed called Veneth industries. They are a small time machine part manufacturer but they apparently do good work. Make all kinds of shipments to the UES systems and I know they make regular deliveries to that chemical plant in McArthur.”

Modock made a few motions at his desk and after a couple of auditory beeps he said, “Done. I’ve sent the drop off coordinates in an encrypted message to your ship. Don’t let me down boys. I’m counting on you.”

The group left and immediately began planning their incursion into Veneth Industries. If they could get a shipping manifest and find a vessel traveling to McArthur, they could hijack it and slip into the chemical plant unnoticed.

That night, they broke into Veneth Industries. Deckard had some trouble bypassing the security systems and a failed illusion by Lerys forced them to subdue a few guards (although the news the next day used the word murder). Nonetheless, they were able to find a shipment scheduled to depart on a ship called the Nomad the next day.

The group decided the best approach would be to plant a tracking device in the Nomad, follow it into UES space with their full dampeners engaged, and then take the vessel by force. Their plan began to break down a few jumps from the McArthur system.

Shortly after jumping into the system, Deckard noticed a spike in energy coming from somewhere in front of the Nomad. Three vessels approached and began firing. A message was sent to the Nomad.

“Forfeit your ship and your goods or forfeit your lives! You have one minute to decide.”

“Captain?” asked Deckard.

“We have no choice. Bring down the dampeners. Full power to weapons and shielding.”

The Phoenix swept into action. The pirate ships were older models either purchased for cheap or stolen from some ill-guarded space port. Under the commanding direction of Lerys, the crew performed admirably.

Tobian maneuvered the ship brilliantly and Deckard’s aim was true. They destroyed the first ship with a full barrage of the twin railguns. Then the next. The last ship managed to land a shot that caused minimal damage to the Phoenix. The Phoenix returned the favor with interest. The last ship erupted into a fireball of debris.

After a quick discussion on the bridge, Lerys hailed the Nomad.

“Nexus vessel Nomad, are you alright?”

Some static and then “Yes. By the gods yes. Thank you! Thank you! I don’t know what we would have done had you not showed up.”

“Just doing our jobs Nomad. We were actually patrolling this sector due to the increased pirate activity. The UES pays well to keep you all safe.”

“Well, paid or not, thank you again.”

“Say, it appears that the last shot hit our medical bay, killing our ship’s doctor and injuring a few of our crew. You wouldn’t be able to lend assistance, would you?”

“Of course,” returned the Nomad. “It’s the least we could do.”

The Nomad docked with the Phoenix. Lerys led the medical team towards sickbay where they were quickly subdued. Tobian and Deckard stormed the Nomad and took the rest of the crew hostage. After a few short minutes they disabled the ship, relieved it of it’s cargo, and stole the Nomad’s transponder.

They left the ship and crew of the Nomad floating helplessly in a region of space known to be heavily trafficked by pirates and slavers. The Phoenix, now emitting the Nomad’s transponder signal, set a jump course for the McArthur system.

The Fall of Isenmoor

Dairven surveyed the destruction all around him. His home, the only home he had ever known, was gone. It had come as quickly and suddenly as a thief in the night. The normally gentle banks of the Sellen River crested while the citizens of Isenmoor slept. It happened so fast most barely had time to scramble out of their homes to safety as the water swallowed their livelihood. The sounds of weeping could be heard all about as people took stock of the destruction.

The strong, proud people of Isenmoor were broken. He could see it in their eyes. His friends and neighbors wandered aimlessly through the town. They wept in the places their homes once stood. They wept at the drowned, bloated corpses of their livestock. And in some cases, they wept over the bodies of friends and loved ones.

They looked to him with questioning eyes. They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to.

Why had this happened? Had they not obeyed Hanspur’s rituals? Had they not continued to revere the old ways? Had they not been careful to respect the river region as he commanded? Had they not upheld “The Ritual” year after year in his honor?

He spoke. “People of Isenmoor! Hear my words! As I look around at the misfortune that has befallen us I grieve with you. For years I have been your faithful steward and emissary to the surrounding wilderness. I too have fed these lands with blood, sweat, and tears and my heart weighs heavy at our loss.”

“But good people, this was always the way it was to end. We knew this. We grew up hearing the stories of our elders about how we are guests in this land. This was not our home, it never was. It was merely a stepping stone in our journey. No, our true home was taken from us. Our true home was stolen from us by the bandits and barbarians that now inhabit it.”

“The prophecy of the cleansing foretold that one day Hanspur would take from us this borrowed river bank and so he has. Year after year we have staved off this inevitable cataclysm by currying favor with the old ways. Every fall, during the last harvest, we perform the ritual as Hanspur demands.”

The druid stopped speaking and lowered his eyes. The ritual. For how many years had he been custodian of this sacred right? For how many years has it been his duty to protect this now broken homestead? He stroked his beard as his mind wandered back beyond an ocean of time.

It was early morning, just before sunrise. There was a knocking at the door of his childhood home. He heard his mother answer. With a somber face she led Edwin to his room.

“Hello Dairven” said the soft spoken Druid.

“Father Edwin?” said the boy, somewhat shaken. He already knew why the Druid was here. “Have I... Have I been chosen?”

“Yes Dairven, you have.” The druid sat on the bed next to the boy. “Hanspur visited me in my dreams last night and whispered your name. He has chosen you as the next candidate. Do you know what this means Dairven?”

Dairven nodded.

“As much as anyone else does I guess. We are to travel along the shores of the Sellen River to Driftwood Temple. We are to enter the temple and give a prayer of thanks to Hanspur after which we are to wade into the river and I am to look upon the full moon.”

“Yes, very good Dairven. Please continue.”

“I shall say another prayer, the Prayer of the River. If Hanspur appears before me as I pray, I will be the Chosen One and you will be the Redeemer. If not, I am to be the Redeemer and you will remain the Chosen One.”

He looked at Edwin. Edwin nodded for him to go on.

“The Chosen One will return to town the next day as Druid of Isenmoor. The Redemer will be banished to the Stolen Lands until he either dies or can return having reclaimed our home.”

“Yes, Dairven. You know the old ways well. No doubt that is why Hanspur has chosen you. We will go now, leave everything behind. The forest and the river will provide.”

The man and the boy left Isenmoor as the ritual demanded. They travelled along the banks of the river and talked. Dairven always liked Edwin and enjoyed his stories and teachings of the old ways.

As it grew dark, Edwin muttered some strange incantations and his quarterstaff began to grow brilliantly, lighting their path. It was midnight before they reached Driftwood Temple, a chaotic shamble of stone and wood that leaned near the bank of the river.

The man and boy entered the temple, kneeled before the alter and prayed. After a few moments, Edwin looked at the boy.

“Are you ready Dairven?”

“I am Father.”

The two exited the temple and waded to the middle of the river. The boy once again knelt and looked upon the full moon with reverence. He began to recant the Prayer of the River. He searched the darkness for his god.

He felt one of the Druids hands on his shoulder and another on his head. It was comforting, like the reassuring embrace of a grandfather he had never known. The boy continued to pray, his eyes darting left and right for any sign of Hanspur.

Suddenly he found himself beneath water, the full weight of the Druid upon him. He could not move and began frantically kicking and flapping his arms. He was terrified. His lungs were burning. He desperately struggled against the Druid. Edwin was strong and had a commanding grip on Dairven’s hair and shoulder, forcing him deeper into the cold, unforgiving water.

Dairven managed to get his hand behind Edwin’s neck and calling upon a strength he had never before known, flipped the Druid into the water before him. He broke the surface of the water and gasped for air.

Screaming and crying he lunged for Edwin who looked at him with bewilderment. He was consumed with fear and betrayal, yelling curses and obscenities at Edwin. He grappled with Edwin and forced him underwater. The Druid struggled but Dairven held steadfast. After a minute or so, Edwin’s efforts subsided. Edwin offered a final few spasms before he went limp.

Dairven released him. The Redeemer floated into the cold, darkness of the night and Hanspur was satiated for another year. The Druid of Isenmoor returned home the next day.

The Druid looked up.

“The cleansing is behind us. We will mourn those Hanspur has taken from us. But do not abandon hope dear friends. This is a sign that we are to once again return to our ancestral lands and claim what was taken from us. It is a sign that I am to conduct the final ritual.”

There was no more crying. There was no talking. Even the forest itself seemed to go quiet.

“Isenmoor is no more. She no longer requires a Druid to watch over her. I am to be the Final Redeemer. There is nothing left for us here. Take what you can carry and follow me. I will guide you to Silverhall. I will see you to safety there and then I will take leave of you. I will travel to the Stolen Lands and I will restore our rightful home.

He raised his spear and muttered a few incantations. It glowed brilliantly, a shining beacon of hope in a ruined world.

“When I am done, I will return for you. I will light the way home.”

The Druid turned and walked west upon the Sellen River. The people of Isenmoor followed.