AREMIS POST: NEW CORVO IN RUINS
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English
NEW CORVO IN RUINS
2945.10.06 SET
by Sean Nazawa
NEW CORVO, AREMIS, VEGA – Yesterday was shaping up to be a beautiful day.
A music festival was just getting started in Beecher Park. The air was surprisingly cool despite being well into the summer months.
Workers in New Corvo were heading back to work after lunch.
I had dropped my family off at Kiering Station. It was my father-in-law’s birthday in Estilia and they were heading up early to surprise him. I was supposed to follow later in the day.
Walking back to the Aremis Post offices along bustling streets, a dull noise cut through the din of the city. All around me mobiGlas began to flash with an emergency warning. I hadn’t seen one of these in a while. It was a basic non-flight advisory and said details were pending. I had started to move on when the old civil defense sirens began; their sound echoed off the tall buildings along Mackelroy Street. Instinctively, my head turned towards the sky.
Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find the city awash in flame and smoke. A body, charred beyond recognition, stared vacantly at me. As I pushed myself away, I realized that everything was muffled, like the world’s volume had been turned down. I shakily got to my feet and turned to look at what had knocked me out. It was a crumpled Aurora, still smoldering from plasma blasts.
I could taste ash in my throat. My eyes burned from the thick clouds of pulverized concrete and smoke as I stumbled down Mackelroy. With each step, the ringing in my ears subsided. I didn’t know where I was going. Neither did anyone else. We were scattered. Crazed. Scared.
The skies were filled with Vanduul. Local law enforcement and private civilians were battling above the city while others tried to flee. From the shouts of people on their mobis, it wasn’t just here. There were attacks all over the planet.
Police units swept down the block collecting survivors and escorting us through the collapsing buildings to a safer location. Saint Aerik’s Hospital was already overflowing. People slumped on the floors, covered in dust and blood. Screams and sobs echoed over the shouts of medics and doctors as they struggled in the smoke to save lives. It was tough to tell who was dead and who wasn’t.
The walls of the hospital shook with each deafening explosion. With each one, I thought that was it. I was dead.
And all I could think of was my Casey and little Natalie and how they said they’d see me later.
I had no medical training, but I couldn’t just sit there anymore. I set out, looking for some way to help. I found an abandoned foodstall. The thing was mostly empty except for boxes and boxes of cookies.
A few others saw what I was doing, and helped me grab what we could. Together we walked around, handing them out.
Peter Marsters, a local hauler, was nursing a fractured arm. The triage tag said he was a low priority, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him. He’d been on the final leg of a shipping run when he entered the system. As he did, he detected the 2nd Fleet massing above the planet, near the Vega-Virgil jump point. Commanded by Admiral Ernst Bishop, who has served along this front for some time, the group of ships included a Bengal carrier, several destroyers and a handful of smaller capital ships.
“I’ve been to the border systems a bunch,” he said, gently dabbing the cut above his eye with his uninjured hand. “So I know when the Navy’s running drills. This was no drill.”
Marsters was passing the fleet and just about to enter atmo when the Vanduul charged.
“I used to think Bengals ate up and spat out Vanduul for snacks, but what I saw coming out of the black … I never seen anything like it.”
UEEM Trooper Evey Ghora, 26, was being attended by three medics. She had suffered multiple stab wounds after confronting a Vanduul raider in the street with no weapons. Once they managed to stabilize her, she was able to offer me an opposing point of view.
“I’m not one to talk up the Navy too much, but that’s Bishop’s crew,” she said, brightening up when I offered her a handful of chocolate cardol cookies. “The ‘duul don’t stand a chance.”
Three hours later, the explosions subsided. Hospital security watched the doors, unsure whether the silence was a portent of something good or bad. Finally a detachment of local police approached with news:
The main Vanduul force had been repelled. Admiral Bishop had won.
When morning came, fires were still burning out of control. Comms were down and I still couldn’t reach my family. Officially, it all became numbers: estimated death counts, how many personnel were needed for search and rescue and the true sign of the devastation: how much damage in Credits. Anything to avoid putting faces to the horror that we had all endured.
Admiral Bishop had come to the planet to survey the destruction personally. The Hero of Vega apparently refused to comment.
Having heard no word yet on any trains to Estilia, I found myself back at Saint Aerik’s while waiting for the UEE Disaster Response Team announcement outlining their protocol for contacting missing relatives. Inside, I ran into one of the medics, who hadn’t yet slept. He informed me that Trooper Ghora had taken a sudden turn and passed away from her wounds early in the morning.
They say it could have been worse. That if Admiral Bishop’s fleet had not pushed the Vanduul back, the destruction would have been more severe.
I don’t know if I can believe that.
2945.10.06 SET
by Sean Nazawa
NEW CORVO, AREMIS, VEGA – Yesterday was shaping up to be a beautiful day.
A music festival was just getting started in Beecher Park. The air was surprisingly cool despite being well into the summer months.
Workers in New Corvo were heading back to work after lunch.
I had dropped my family off at Kiering Station. It was my father-in-law’s birthday in Estilia and they were heading up early to surprise him. I was supposed to follow later in the day.
Walking back to the Aremis Post offices along bustling streets, a dull noise cut through the din of the city. All around me mobiGlas began to flash with an emergency warning. I hadn’t seen one of these in a while. It was a basic non-flight advisory and said details were pending. I had started to move on when the old civil defense sirens began; their sound echoed off the tall buildings along Mackelroy Street. Instinctively, my head turned towards the sky.
Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find the city awash in flame and smoke. A body, charred beyond recognition, stared vacantly at me. As I pushed myself away, I realized that everything was muffled, like the world’s volume had been turned down. I shakily got to my feet and turned to look at what had knocked me out. It was a crumpled Aurora, still smoldering from plasma blasts.
I could taste ash in my throat. My eyes burned from the thick clouds of pulverized concrete and smoke as I stumbled down Mackelroy. With each step, the ringing in my ears subsided. I didn’t know where I was going. Neither did anyone else. We were scattered. Crazed. Scared.
The skies were filled with Vanduul. Local law enforcement and private civilians were battling above the city while others tried to flee. From the shouts of people on their mobis, it wasn’t just here. There were attacks all over the planet.
Police units swept down the block collecting survivors and escorting us through the collapsing buildings to a safer location. Saint Aerik’s Hospital was already overflowing. People slumped on the floors, covered in dust and blood. Screams and sobs echoed over the shouts of medics and doctors as they struggled in the smoke to save lives. It was tough to tell who was dead and who wasn’t.
The walls of the hospital shook with each deafening explosion. With each one, I thought that was it. I was dead.
And all I could think of was my Casey and little Natalie and how they said they’d see me later.
I had no medical training, but I couldn’t just sit there anymore. I set out, looking for some way to help. I found an abandoned foodstall. The thing was mostly empty except for boxes and boxes of cookies.
A few others saw what I was doing, and helped me grab what we could. Together we walked around, handing them out.
Peter Marsters, a local hauler, was nursing a fractured arm. The triage tag said he was a low priority, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him. He’d been on the final leg of a shipping run when he entered the system. As he did, he detected the 2nd Fleet massing above the planet, near the Vega-Virgil jump point. Commanded by Admiral Ernst Bishop, who has served along this front for some time, the group of ships included a Bengal carrier, several destroyers and a handful of smaller capital ships.
“I’ve been to the border systems a bunch,” he said, gently dabbing the cut above his eye with his uninjured hand. “So I know when the Navy’s running drills. This was no drill.”
Marsters was passing the fleet and just about to enter atmo when the Vanduul charged.
“I used to think Bengals ate up and spat out Vanduul for snacks, but what I saw coming out of the black … I never seen anything like it.”
UEEM Trooper Evey Ghora, 26, was being attended by three medics. She had suffered multiple stab wounds after confronting a Vanduul raider in the street with no weapons. Once they managed to stabilize her, she was able to offer me an opposing point of view.
“I’m not one to talk up the Navy too much, but that’s Bishop’s crew,” she said, brightening up when I offered her a handful of chocolate cardol cookies. “The ‘duul don’t stand a chance.”
Three hours later, the explosions subsided. Hospital security watched the doors, unsure whether the silence was a portent of something good or bad. Finally a detachment of local police approached with news:
The main Vanduul force had been repelled. Admiral Bishop had won.
When morning came, fires were still burning out of control. Comms were down and I still couldn’t reach my family. Officially, it all became numbers: estimated death counts, how many personnel were needed for search and rescue and the true sign of the devastation: how much damage in Credits. Anything to avoid putting faces to the horror that we had all endured.
Admiral Bishop had come to the planet to survey the destruction personally. The Hero of Vega apparently refused to comment.
Having heard no word yet on any trains to Estilia, I found myself back at Saint Aerik’s while waiting for the UEE Disaster Response Team announcement outlining their protocol for contacting missing relatives. Inside, I ran into one of the medics, who hadn’t yet slept. He informed me that Trooper Ghora had taken a sudden turn and passed away from her wounds early in the morning.
They say it could have been worse. That if Admiral Bishop’s fleet had not pushed the Vanduul back, the destruction would have been more severe.
I don’t know if I can believe that.
German
NEUER CORVO IN TRÜMMERN
2945.10.06.06 SATZ
von Sean Nazawa
NEW CORVO, AREMIS, VEGA - Gestern wurde ein schöner Tag.
Ein Musikfestival begann gerade erst im Beecher Park. Die Luft war überraschend kühl, obwohl sie bis weit in die Sommermonate hinein dauerte.
Die Arbeiter in New Corvo waren nach dem Mittagessen auf dem Weg zurück zur Arbeit.
Ich hatte meine Familie an der Station Kiering abgesetzt. Es war der Geburtstag meines Schwiegervaters in Estilia und sie waren früh auf dem Weg, um ihn zu überraschen. Ich sollte später am Tag folgen.
Wenn man entlang der belebten Straßen zurück zu den Postämtern von Aremis geht, schneidet ein langweiliger Lärm durch das Getöse der Stadt. Rund um mich herum begann mobiGlas mit einer Notfallwarnung zu blinken. So einen hatte ich schon lange nicht mehr gesehen. Es handelte sich um eine grundlegende Beratung außerhalb des Fluges, und die Details waren noch offen. Ich hatte begonnen, weiterzumachen, als die alten Sirenen des Zivilschutzes begannen; ihr Geräusch hallte von den hohen Gebäuden entlang der Mackelroy Street. Instinktiv drehte sich mein Kopf zum Himmel.
Das nächste, was ich wusste, öffnete ich meine Augen, um die Stadt in Flammen und Rauch zu sehen. Ein bis zur Unkenntlichkeit verkohlter Körper starrte mich leer an. Als ich mich zurückzog, wurde mir klar, dass alles gedämpft war, als wäre die Lautstärke der Welt heruntergedreht worden. Ich stand wackelig auf und drehte mich um, um zu sehen, was mich niedergeschlagen hatte. Es war eine zerknitterte Aurora, die immer noch durch Plasmastrahlungen schwelte.
Ich konnte Asche in meinem Hals schmecken. Meine Augen brannten aus den dicken Wolken aus pulverisiertem Beton und Rauch, als ich Mackelroy herunterstolperte. Mit jedem Schritt ließ das Klingeln in meinen Ohren nach. Ich wusste nicht, wohin ich gehen sollte. Und auch sonst niemand. Wir waren verstreut. Verrückt. Ich hatte Angst.
Der Himmel war voller Vanduul. Lokale Strafverfolgungsbehörden und private Zivilisten kämpften über der Stadt, während andere versuchten zu fliehen. Von den Schreien der Leute auf ihren Mobis, es war nicht nur hier. Es gab Angriffe auf dem ganzen Planeten.
Polizeieinheiten fegten den Block hinunter, sammelten Überlebende und begleiteten uns durch die einstürzenden Gebäude zu einem sichereren Ort. Das Saint Aerik's Hospital war bereits überfüllt. Menschen stürzten auf den Boden, bedeckt mit Staub und Blut. Schreie und Schluchzer hallten über die Schreie von Ärzten und Ärzten, als sie im Rauch kämpften, um Leben zu retten. Es war schwer zu sagen, wer tot war und wer nicht.
Die Wände des Krankenhauses wackelten bei jeder ohrenbetäubenden Explosion. Bei jedem einzelnen dachte ich, das wäre es. Ich war tot.
Und alles, woran ich denken konnte, war meine Casey und die kleine Natalie und wie sie sagten, sie würden mich später sehen.
Ich hatte keine medizinische Ausbildung, aber ich konnte nicht mehr einfach da sitzen. Ich machte mich auf den Weg und suchte nach einem Weg, um zu helfen. Ich fand einen verlassenen Lebensmittelladen. Das Ding war größtenteils leer, außer Kisten und Kisten mit Keksen.
Ein paar andere sahen, was ich tat, und halfen mir, zu greifen, was wir konnten. Zusammen gingen wir herum und verteilten sie.
Peter Marsters, ein örtlicher Spediteur, pflegte einen gebrochenen Arm. Das Triage-Tag sagte, dass er eine niedrige Priorität hatte, aber man konnte es nicht erkennen, wenn man ihn ansah. Er war auf der letzten Etappe einer Schifffahrt gewesen, als er in das System eintrat. Während er es tat, entdeckte er die zweite Flotte, die sich über dem Planeten, in der Nähe des Sprungpunktes Vega-Virgil, sammelte. Unter dem Kommando von Admiral Ernst Bishop, der seit einiger Zeit an dieser Front Dienst tut, bestand die Schiffsgruppe aus einem bengalischen Träger, mehreren Zerstörern und einer Handvoll kleinerer Großschiffe.
"Ich war in den Grenzsystemen ein Haufen", sagte er und betupfte sanft den Schnitt über seinem Auge mit seiner unverletzten Hand. "Also weiß ich, wann die Navy Übungen durchführt. Das war keine Übung."
Marsters passierte die Flotte und wollte gerade in die Atmosphäre eintreten, als die Vanduul angriffen.
"Früher dachte ich, Bengalen aßen und spuckten Vanduul für Snacks aus, aber was ich aus dem Nichts kommen sah.... Ich habe so etwas noch nie gesehen."
Der UEEM-Truppenführer Evey Ghora, 26, wurde von drei Ärzten besucht. Sie hatte mehrere Stichwunden erlitten, nachdem sie einem Vanduul-Räuber auf der Straße ohne Waffen gegenüberstand. Als sie es geschafft hatten, sie zu stabilisieren, konnte sie mir eine gegenteilige Sichtweise bieten.
"Ich bin nicht einer, der die Marine zu viel überredet, aber das ist die Crew von Bishop", sagte sie und erhellte sich, als ich ihr eine Handvoll Schokoladen-Kardol-Kekse anbot. "Der Duul hat keine Chance."
Drei Stunden später hörten die Explosionen auf. Die Krankenhaussicherheit beobachtete die Türen und war sich nicht sicher, ob die Stille ein Zeichen für etwas Gutes oder Schlechtes war. Schließlich näherte sich eine Abteilung der örtlichen Polizei mit Nachrichten:
Die Hauptvanduul-Kraft war abgewehrt worden. Admiral Bishop hatte gewonnen.
Als der Morgen kam, brannten die Feuer noch immer außer Kontrolle. Die Kommunikation war unterbrochen und ich konnte meine Familie immer noch nicht erreichen. Offiziell wurde alles zu Zahlen: geschätzte Todeszahlen, wie viel Personal für die Suche und Rettung benötigt wurde und das wahre Zeichen der Verwüstung: wie viel Schaden in Credits. Alles, um zu vermeiden, dass Gesichter dem Schrecken ausgesetzt werden, den wir alle erlitten haben.
Admiral Bishop war auf den Planeten gekommen, um die Zerstörung persönlich zu überwachen. Der Held von Vega weigerte sich offenbar, einen Kommentar abzugeben.
Nachdem ich in irgendwelchen Zügen nach Estilia noch kein Wort gehört hatte, befand ich mich wieder in Saint Aerik's, während ich auf die Ankündigung des UEE Disaster Response Teams wartete, das ihr Protokoll für die Kontaktaufnahme mit vermissten Angehörigen darlegte. Drinnen traf ich einen der Sanitäter, der noch nicht geschlafen hatte. Er teilte mir mit, dass Trooper Ghora eine plötzliche Wendung genommen hatte und am frühen Morgen von ihren Wunden weggegangen war.
Man sagt, es hätte schlimmer kommen können. Hätte die Flotte von Admiral Bishop die Vanduul nicht zurückgedrängt, wäre die Zerstörung noch gravierender gewesen.
Ich weiß nicht, ob ich das glauben kann.
2945.10.06.06 SATZ
von Sean Nazawa
NEW CORVO, AREMIS, VEGA - Gestern wurde ein schöner Tag.
Ein Musikfestival begann gerade erst im Beecher Park. Die Luft war überraschend kühl, obwohl sie bis weit in die Sommermonate hinein dauerte.
Die Arbeiter in New Corvo waren nach dem Mittagessen auf dem Weg zurück zur Arbeit.
Ich hatte meine Familie an der Station Kiering abgesetzt. Es war der Geburtstag meines Schwiegervaters in Estilia und sie waren früh auf dem Weg, um ihn zu überraschen. Ich sollte später am Tag folgen.
Wenn man entlang der belebten Straßen zurück zu den Postämtern von Aremis geht, schneidet ein langweiliger Lärm durch das Getöse der Stadt. Rund um mich herum begann mobiGlas mit einer Notfallwarnung zu blinken. So einen hatte ich schon lange nicht mehr gesehen. Es handelte sich um eine grundlegende Beratung außerhalb des Fluges, und die Details waren noch offen. Ich hatte begonnen, weiterzumachen, als die alten Sirenen des Zivilschutzes begannen; ihr Geräusch hallte von den hohen Gebäuden entlang der Mackelroy Street. Instinktiv drehte sich mein Kopf zum Himmel.
Das nächste, was ich wusste, öffnete ich meine Augen, um die Stadt in Flammen und Rauch zu sehen. Ein bis zur Unkenntlichkeit verkohlter Körper starrte mich leer an. Als ich mich zurückzog, wurde mir klar, dass alles gedämpft war, als wäre die Lautstärke der Welt heruntergedreht worden. Ich stand wackelig auf und drehte mich um, um zu sehen, was mich niedergeschlagen hatte. Es war eine zerknitterte Aurora, die immer noch durch Plasmastrahlungen schwelte.
Ich konnte Asche in meinem Hals schmecken. Meine Augen brannten aus den dicken Wolken aus pulverisiertem Beton und Rauch, als ich Mackelroy herunterstolperte. Mit jedem Schritt ließ das Klingeln in meinen Ohren nach. Ich wusste nicht, wohin ich gehen sollte. Und auch sonst niemand. Wir waren verstreut. Verrückt. Ich hatte Angst.
Der Himmel war voller Vanduul. Lokale Strafverfolgungsbehörden und private Zivilisten kämpften über der Stadt, während andere versuchten zu fliehen. Von den Schreien der Leute auf ihren Mobis, es war nicht nur hier. Es gab Angriffe auf dem ganzen Planeten.
Polizeieinheiten fegten den Block hinunter, sammelten Überlebende und begleiteten uns durch die einstürzenden Gebäude zu einem sichereren Ort. Das Saint Aerik's Hospital war bereits überfüllt. Menschen stürzten auf den Boden, bedeckt mit Staub und Blut. Schreie und Schluchzer hallten über die Schreie von Ärzten und Ärzten, als sie im Rauch kämpften, um Leben zu retten. Es war schwer zu sagen, wer tot war und wer nicht.
Die Wände des Krankenhauses wackelten bei jeder ohrenbetäubenden Explosion. Bei jedem einzelnen dachte ich, das wäre es. Ich war tot.
Und alles, woran ich denken konnte, war meine Casey und die kleine Natalie und wie sie sagten, sie würden mich später sehen.
Ich hatte keine medizinische Ausbildung, aber ich konnte nicht mehr einfach da sitzen. Ich machte mich auf den Weg und suchte nach einem Weg, um zu helfen. Ich fand einen verlassenen Lebensmittelladen. Das Ding war größtenteils leer, außer Kisten und Kisten mit Keksen.
Ein paar andere sahen, was ich tat, und halfen mir, zu greifen, was wir konnten. Zusammen gingen wir herum und verteilten sie.
Peter Marsters, ein örtlicher Spediteur, pflegte einen gebrochenen Arm. Das Triage-Tag sagte, dass er eine niedrige Priorität hatte, aber man konnte es nicht erkennen, wenn man ihn ansah. Er war auf der letzten Etappe einer Schifffahrt gewesen, als er in das System eintrat. Während er es tat, entdeckte er die zweite Flotte, die sich über dem Planeten, in der Nähe des Sprungpunktes Vega-Virgil, sammelte. Unter dem Kommando von Admiral Ernst Bishop, der seit einiger Zeit an dieser Front Dienst tut, bestand die Schiffsgruppe aus einem bengalischen Träger, mehreren Zerstörern und einer Handvoll kleinerer Großschiffe.
"Ich war in den Grenzsystemen ein Haufen", sagte er und betupfte sanft den Schnitt über seinem Auge mit seiner unverletzten Hand. "Also weiß ich, wann die Navy Übungen durchführt. Das war keine Übung."
Marsters passierte die Flotte und wollte gerade in die Atmosphäre eintreten, als die Vanduul angriffen.
"Früher dachte ich, Bengalen aßen und spuckten Vanduul für Snacks aus, aber was ich aus dem Nichts kommen sah.... Ich habe so etwas noch nie gesehen."
Der UEEM-Truppenführer Evey Ghora, 26, wurde von drei Ärzten besucht. Sie hatte mehrere Stichwunden erlitten, nachdem sie einem Vanduul-Räuber auf der Straße ohne Waffen gegenüberstand. Als sie es geschafft hatten, sie zu stabilisieren, konnte sie mir eine gegenteilige Sichtweise bieten.
"Ich bin nicht einer, der die Marine zu viel überredet, aber das ist die Crew von Bishop", sagte sie und erhellte sich, als ich ihr eine Handvoll Schokoladen-Kardol-Kekse anbot. "Der Duul hat keine Chance."
Drei Stunden später hörten die Explosionen auf. Die Krankenhaussicherheit beobachtete die Türen und war sich nicht sicher, ob die Stille ein Zeichen für etwas Gutes oder Schlechtes war. Schließlich näherte sich eine Abteilung der örtlichen Polizei mit Nachrichten:
Die Hauptvanduul-Kraft war abgewehrt worden. Admiral Bishop hatte gewonnen.
Als der Morgen kam, brannten die Feuer noch immer außer Kontrolle. Die Kommunikation war unterbrochen und ich konnte meine Familie immer noch nicht erreichen. Offiziell wurde alles zu Zahlen: geschätzte Todeszahlen, wie viel Personal für die Suche und Rettung benötigt wurde und das wahre Zeichen der Verwüstung: wie viel Schaden in Credits. Alles, um zu vermeiden, dass Gesichter dem Schrecken ausgesetzt werden, den wir alle erlitten haben.
Admiral Bishop war auf den Planeten gekommen, um die Zerstörung persönlich zu überwachen. Der Held von Vega weigerte sich offenbar, einen Kommentar abzugeben.
Nachdem ich in irgendwelchen Zügen nach Estilia noch kein Wort gehört hatte, befand ich mich wieder in Saint Aerik's, während ich auf die Ankündigung des UEE Disaster Response Teams wartete, das ihr Protokoll für die Kontaktaufnahme mit vermissten Angehörigen darlegte. Drinnen traf ich einen der Sanitäter, der noch nicht geschlafen hatte. Er teilte mir mit, dass Trooper Ghora eine plötzliche Wendung genommen hatte und am frühen Morgen von ihren Wunden weggegangen war.
Man sagt, es hätte schlimmer kommen können. Hätte die Flotte von Admiral Bishop die Vanduul nicht zurückgedrängt, wäre die Zerstörung noch gravierender gewesen.
Ich weiß nicht, ob ich das glauben kann.
Chinese
NEW CORVO IN RUINS
2945.10.06 SET
by Sean Nazawa
NEW CORVO, AREMIS, VEGA – Yesterday was shaping up to be a beautiful day.
A music festival was just getting started in Beecher Park. The air was surprisingly cool despite being well into the summer months.
Workers in New Corvo were heading back to work after lunch.
I had dropped my family off at Kiering Station. It was my father-in-law’s birthday in Estilia and they were heading up early to surprise him. I was supposed to follow later in the day.
Walking back to the Aremis Post offices along bustling streets, a dull noise cut through the din of the city. All around me mobiGlas began to flash with an emergency warning. I hadn’t seen one of these in a while. It was a basic non-flight advisory and said details were pending. I had started to move on when the old civil defense sirens began; their sound echoed off the tall buildings along Mackelroy Street. Instinctively, my head turned towards the sky.
Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find the city awash in flame and smoke. A body, charred beyond recognition, stared vacantly at me. As I pushed myself away, I realized that everything was muffled, like the world’s volume had been turned down. I shakily got to my feet and turned to look at what had knocked me out. It was a crumpled Aurora, still smoldering from plasma blasts.
I could taste ash in my throat. My eyes burned from the thick clouds of pulverized concrete and smoke as I stumbled down Mackelroy. With each step, the ringing in my ears subsided. I didn’t know where I was going. Neither did anyone else. We were scattered. Crazed. Scared.
The skies were filled with Vanduul. Local law enforcement and private civilians were battling above the city while others tried to flee. From the shouts of people on their mobis, it wasn’t just here. There were attacks all over the planet.
Police units swept down the block collecting survivors and escorting us through the collapsing buildings to a safer location. Saint Aerik’s Hospital was already overflowing. People slumped on the floors, covered in dust and blood. Screams and sobs echoed over the shouts of medics and doctors as they struggled in the smoke to save lives. It was tough to tell who was dead and who wasn’t.
The walls of the hospital shook with each deafening explosion. With each one, I thought that was it. I was dead.
And all I could think of was my Casey and little Natalie and how they said they’d see me later.
I had no medical training, but I couldn’t just sit there anymore. I set out, looking for some way to help. I found an abandoned foodstall. The thing was mostly empty except for boxes and boxes of cookies.
A few others saw what I was doing, and helped me grab what we could. Together we walked around, handing them out.
Peter Marsters, a local hauler, was nursing a fractured arm. The triage tag said he was a low priority, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him. He’d been on the final leg of a shipping run when he entered the system. As he did, he detected the 2nd Fleet massing above the planet, near the Vega-Virgil jump point. Commanded by Admiral Ernst Bishop, who has served along this front for some time, the group of ships included a Bengal carrier, several destroyers and a handful of smaller capital ships.
“I’ve been to the border systems a bunch,” he said, gently dabbing the cut above his eye with his uninjured hand. “So I know when the Navy’s running drills. This was no drill.”
Marsters was passing the fleet and just about to enter atmo when the Vanduul charged.
“I used to think Bengals ate up and spat out Vanduul for snacks, but what I saw coming out of the black … I never seen anything like it.”
UEEM Trooper Evey Ghora, 26, was being attended by three medics. She had suffered multiple stab wounds after confronting a Vanduul raider in the street with no weapons. Once they managed to stabilize her, she was able to offer me an opposing point of view.
“I’m not one to talk up the Navy too much, but that’s Bishop’s crew,” she said, brightening up when I offered her a handful of chocolate cardol cookies. “The ‘duul don’t stand a chance.”
Three hours later, the explosions subsided. Hospital security watched the doors, unsure whether the silence was a portent of something good or bad. Finally a detachment of local police approached with news:
The main Vanduul force had been repelled. Admiral Bishop had won.
When morning came, fires were still burning out of control. Comms were down and I still couldn’t reach my family. Officially, it all became numbers: estimated death counts, how many personnel were needed for search and rescue and the true sign of the devastation: how much damage in Credits. Anything to avoid putting faces to the horror that we had all endured.
Admiral Bishop had come to the planet to survey the destruction personally. The Hero of Vega apparently refused to comment.
Having heard no word yet on any trains to Estilia, I found myself back at Saint Aerik’s while waiting for the UEE Disaster Response Team announcement outlining their protocol for contacting missing relatives. Inside, I ran into one of the medics, who hadn’t yet slept. He informed me that Trooper Ghora had taken a sudden turn and passed away from her wounds early in the morning.
They say it could have been worse. That if Admiral Bishop’s fleet had not pushed the Vanduul back, the destruction would have been more severe.
I don’t know if I can believe that.
2945.10.06 SET
by Sean Nazawa
NEW CORVO, AREMIS, VEGA – Yesterday was shaping up to be a beautiful day.
A music festival was just getting started in Beecher Park. The air was surprisingly cool despite being well into the summer months.
Workers in New Corvo were heading back to work after lunch.
I had dropped my family off at Kiering Station. It was my father-in-law’s birthday in Estilia and they were heading up early to surprise him. I was supposed to follow later in the day.
Walking back to the Aremis Post offices along bustling streets, a dull noise cut through the din of the city. All around me mobiGlas began to flash with an emergency warning. I hadn’t seen one of these in a while. It was a basic non-flight advisory and said details were pending. I had started to move on when the old civil defense sirens began; their sound echoed off the tall buildings along Mackelroy Street. Instinctively, my head turned towards the sky.
Next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to find the city awash in flame and smoke. A body, charred beyond recognition, stared vacantly at me. As I pushed myself away, I realized that everything was muffled, like the world’s volume had been turned down. I shakily got to my feet and turned to look at what had knocked me out. It was a crumpled Aurora, still smoldering from plasma blasts.
I could taste ash in my throat. My eyes burned from the thick clouds of pulverized concrete and smoke as I stumbled down Mackelroy. With each step, the ringing in my ears subsided. I didn’t know where I was going. Neither did anyone else. We were scattered. Crazed. Scared.
The skies were filled with Vanduul. Local law enforcement and private civilians were battling above the city while others tried to flee. From the shouts of people on their mobis, it wasn’t just here. There were attacks all over the planet.
Police units swept down the block collecting survivors and escorting us through the collapsing buildings to a safer location. Saint Aerik’s Hospital was already overflowing. People slumped on the floors, covered in dust and blood. Screams and sobs echoed over the shouts of medics and doctors as they struggled in the smoke to save lives. It was tough to tell who was dead and who wasn’t.
The walls of the hospital shook with each deafening explosion. With each one, I thought that was it. I was dead.
And all I could think of was my Casey and little Natalie and how they said they’d see me later.
I had no medical training, but I couldn’t just sit there anymore. I set out, looking for some way to help. I found an abandoned foodstall. The thing was mostly empty except for boxes and boxes of cookies.
A few others saw what I was doing, and helped me grab what we could. Together we walked around, handing them out.
Peter Marsters, a local hauler, was nursing a fractured arm. The triage tag said he was a low priority, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him. He’d been on the final leg of a shipping run when he entered the system. As he did, he detected the 2nd Fleet massing above the planet, near the Vega-Virgil jump point. Commanded by Admiral Ernst Bishop, who has served along this front for some time, the group of ships included a Bengal carrier, several destroyers and a handful of smaller capital ships.
“I’ve been to the border systems a bunch,” he said, gently dabbing the cut above his eye with his uninjured hand. “So I know when the Navy’s running drills. This was no drill.”
Marsters was passing the fleet and just about to enter atmo when the Vanduul charged.
“I used to think Bengals ate up and spat out Vanduul for snacks, but what I saw coming out of the black … I never seen anything like it.”
UEEM Trooper Evey Ghora, 26, was being attended by three medics. She had suffered multiple stab wounds after confronting a Vanduul raider in the street with no weapons. Once they managed to stabilize her, she was able to offer me an opposing point of view.
“I’m not one to talk up the Navy too much, but that’s Bishop’s crew,” she said, brightening up when I offered her a handful of chocolate cardol cookies. “The ‘duul don’t stand a chance.”
Three hours later, the explosions subsided. Hospital security watched the doors, unsure whether the silence was a portent of something good or bad. Finally a detachment of local police approached with news:
The main Vanduul force had been repelled. Admiral Bishop had won.
When morning came, fires were still burning out of control. Comms were down and I still couldn’t reach my family. Officially, it all became numbers: estimated death counts, how many personnel were needed for search and rescue and the true sign of the devastation: how much damage in Credits. Anything to avoid putting faces to the horror that we had all endured.
Admiral Bishop had come to the planet to survey the destruction personally. The Hero of Vega apparently refused to comment.
Having heard no word yet on any trains to Estilia, I found myself back at Saint Aerik’s while waiting for the UEE Disaster Response Team announcement outlining their protocol for contacting missing relatives. Inside, I ran into one of the medics, who hadn’t yet slept. He informed me that Trooper Ghora had taken a sudden turn and passed away from her wounds early in the morning.
They say it could have been worse. That if Admiral Bishop’s fleet had not pushed the Vanduul back, the destruction would have been more severe.
I don’t know if I can believe that.
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- 14987
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- News Update
- Comments
- 266
- Published
- 10 years ago (2015-10-07T00:00:00+00:00)