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Contents
Flight Deck - Deck 1 - ISV Galactix <ISV Galactix>
This massive chamber has sufficient docking facilities for several large vessels, and multiple fighter squadrons. Smaller vessels are stored in smaller hangars arranged like shelves on the side walls. High above on the ceiling a large blister dome houses the flight control center. It is mostly glass windows, giving the flight controllers inside a 360 degree view of the deck below. Access to the flight control center is gained through a hover tube which hugs the hangar wall and the ceiling, running towards the dome.
At present quite a few of the vessels parked here are in bad shape. Only one or two appear space worthy. The others appear to be in the process of repairs and overhauls from severe damage.
With the sound of a thunderous explosion, an electric blue oval opens into the air, expelling a blast of heat, shrapnel, and one human in black military clothing. The man tumbles head over heels across the vast chamber, finally coming to rest in a heap. He lays there for a few moments before beginning to move, flexing fingers and cracking open an eye to view his surroundings.
No sooner does the portal which deposited James fade, the room in which he now finds himself springs to life. Red klaxons begin to flash and an alarm wails as a computer voice begins to intone, "Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. Unauthorized presence detected on flight deck." However, there seem to be no crew around to respond to the warning, as it continues "Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert."
James Sterling rolls over and sits up at the sound of the klaxons, growling in pain as he does so. He gets slowly to his feet, his hand reaching instinctively for the sidearm strapped to his hip. "What the hell's this place?" he mutters to himself.
"Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. In-" The voice is suddenly cut off, the lights return to normal, and a new voice speaks from the same source as the first. "Yes, yes, yes, yes... thank you. I must see about fixing that given present circumstances." the voice says, pausing for a moment as if studying the new arrival. "I've seen enough of these portals to sense the temporal signature. Well, my friend, it seems you have found yourself a guest of the Ancient Expanse, as have I. Permit me to welcome you aboard."
James Sterling draws his sidearm without being truly aware he's doing it. At the sound of the second voice he begins glancing around the room's massive ceiling in search of its source. He notices the blast door and moves toward it, ignoring for the moment the various pains caused by the explosion.
"You won't be needing that." the voice says. "My name is Galactix... and I am the ship upon which you have found yourself. Feel free to come forward if you wish, the bridge might be a better place for you to see what I am talking about."
James Sterling snickers. "I've heard that before," he drawls in an Australian accent, still moving toward the blast door. "The ones that tell you y'don't need yer weapon are usually the reason y'need it."
Galactix' voice chuckles. "True. In this case, however, it is indeed the truth. I am a peaceful being. However, I do carry strong defenses in case they are needed. Not all those I have encountered share that philosophy. I can at least get the immediate pleasantries out of the way. You are no longer where you were, or when you were. You are in a new universe, and a new time. Here, it is the year 2654 by the Terran calendar. I can tell from your accent that you hail from the Australian continent of Earth. I'm afraid you find here Earth non-existent. Elsewhere is a different story, but that takes more explaining."
Sterling blinks in confusion and disbelief for a moment before recovering his usual sarcastic attitude. "...Right," he replies. "Look, this is probably all just a fever dream or hallucination or something. I'm in hospital, busted all to hell and gone, and having a weird little fantasy in me head." He reaches the blast door. "So I suppose there's no reason not to play along," he adds. "Fer now."
The door opens at Sterling's approach, revealing a very long corridor beyond that stretches for what appears to be several kilometers. "I'm afraid it isn't a hallucination, but I can also understand that being the conclusion one would come to at first." Galactix' voice says.
Sterling peers down the corridor, then steps through the door. "Great!" he says enthusiastically. "I'm glad yer comin' with me on that one."
Aft Corridor - Deck 1 - ISV Galactix
Galactix floats just beyond the door, at about eye level. The voice, now, comes from this spherical device. "Perhaps this might provide a more personable interface to converse with." With a flash, a hologram of an elderly human male appears. Now the voice appears to be coming from the hologram itself. "I am Galactix."
Galactix
When not projecting a holographic image around itself, Galactix' mobile unit appears as a darkly tinted polycarbonate orb, approximately 7 centimeters across. It is faceted and filigreed with a mathematically perfect Faraday pattern in gold.
Currently, however, the orb is projecting an image of an elderly human male, about 6'6" tall, with salt and pepper hair and blue eyes. He is dressed in a pair of gray slacks, well polished black leather shoes, a black leather belt, a blue button down shirt, and a gray tie.
The pistol in Sterling's hand points at the small orb, but the soldier lowers it to the side on seeing the old man. He looks around in search of the place the man entered from, then shrugs and lets the gun drop back to his side. How much has to make sense in a fever dream? He looks the man up and down. "G'day," he greets.
"Greetings." Galactix says. "Good to see you're calming down some. Perhaps we should go forward to the bridge, there's some places to sit down while we talk about things."
Sterling nods. "Yeh," he drawls. The pistol is still pointed at the ground, but it's still in his hand.
Command Center - Deck 1 - ISV Galactix <ISV Galactix>
This massive room appears much like NASA's Mission Control in Houston. The fore wall is occupied by 4 gigantic display screens, with 8 smaller screens, 4 each either side of the 4 central screens. The side walls each have 2 more large display screens. Much of the bridge is taken up by 5 rows of consoles, arranged one behind the other from the front of the room. Each has enough seats to hold 50 technicians, all with a view of the front screens and swivel bases on the chairs allow viewing of the side screens. The consoles monitor and control all of Galactix' systems, ranging from environmental control to navigation. Behind these rows of consoles is a higher platform, accessible by a variety of stairwells up from the lower floor. This platform is enclosed with a large glass window, and is partitioned off into a variety of cubicles and other offices for the administration. One office is centrally located with a view of the entire floor for the commanding officer. On the aft wall, several exits lead from here into the main corridor.
"Here we are. Feel free to take a seat." Galactix says, stepping up next to a console. The screens currently are displaying a wide variety of information. Ship status, a star chart, a forward view, sensor data analysis, and a starboard image of a proto-star that the ship appears to be in orbit of. "Would you like some refreshment?"
Sterling gazes around at the display screens and all the consoles. He whistles. "Boy, lotta hardware y'got in here." He takes a seat behind one of the consoles and winces as his injuries begin to make themselves known. "Damn," he grunts. "Y'd think that a proper fever dream wouldn't leave me still busted up." He looks down and notices the right leg of his uniform is tattered, the skin peppered with bits of shrapnel. "It don't make sense."
"I am afraid that I am not well versed in the medical arts, but my scans show that you do need some medical attention." Galactix says. "I shall set course for the world I am now calling home. There are medical personnel there who can tend to you." With that the ship lurches slightly as the main engines engage to push the ship out of orbit. "Meanwhile, perhaps we can discuss where, and perhaps when, you were before you were brought here so abruptly."
Sterling nods absently. "Yeh," he grunts. He probes the wounds on his leg with a finger. "Don't look too bad," he opines. He gazes back at the screens, then looks to the old man. "This really a spaceship? Like sci-fi, Captain Kirk and all that?" He frowns. "Never really was into all that stuff."
Galactix has manned the main console.
With a lurch and a flash of white light the ship accelerates to FTL speed.
"Indeed. It will take approximately 18 minutes to reach my home." Galactix says. "Meanwhile, there is much to discuss. Presently I have no crew aboard. Not that I need one, since I am the ship itself I can operate myself most efficiently. Though sometimes I miss conversation."
Sterling blinks. "...Right." He watches the display screens as he speaks. "Last thing I remember was the oil tank exploding." He looks to the old man again. "See, there's this gang in Brussels -- they call themselves the Rax. Nasty, nasty blokes. They don't just kill people, they brutally kill people -- you don't wanna know the details, trust me -- and then they EAT 'em." He pauses to pull up his left sleeve and shows a vaguely circular scar on his left bicep. "One of 'em took a chunk outta me once. Took half a bloody clip t'put 'im down." He replaces the sleeve. "The lads an' I found where they were hidin' out, and we went in t'wipe 'em out. Somebody's grenade bounced right next to a tank full o' heating oil, and then..." He holsters his pistol and puts his hands together, cupping one around the other, then spreads them apart. "...boom."
"I see. It is a similar story... many were rifted just as their lives were about to expire. Indeed, mine was the same. A squadron of Phyrrian ships had damaged me severely and were about to deal the death blow when I was suddenly transported to this universe. Fortunately, some kind souls found me and restored me to working order." Galactix says. "I owe them much. What year was this taking place in, might I ask?"
Sterling tilts his head curiously. "Y'mean you're not from here either? It was 2012 last time I looked at the calendar."
"Indeed, I am not. I am from the year 3001 by your calendar." Galactix says. "This universe has a slightly different time scale, thus the equivalent year here is 2654. Not only have you rifted across dimensions to another universe, you have moved forward in time by 642 years."
Sterling lifts a hand in a 'wait' gesture, his mouth opening, then closing again after a moment. His hand drops into his lap. "I gotta get a better class o' fever dreams," he mutters.
Galactix smiles. "It takes a bit of getting used to. At the very least I can offer you a more comfortable planetary environment when we reache Impiruil Baile."
"I wonder when I'm gonna wake up," Sterling ponders aloud. "I wonder if maybe I /am/ dead... makes me wonder what the other place looks like."
With a lurch the ship's FTL drive slows to sublight and the viewscreen displays the starry void of space once again as the ship's computer reports the destination has been reached.
"You're very much awake, I'm afraid, and still amongst the living. Though not the living you are used to." Galactix says, looking up to the viewscreen. "Ah, we have arrived. Unfortunately, I can not land. Being 8000 kilometers long makes that a rather difficult proposition. I must use a dropship to pilot my mobile unit here to the surface. Shall we return to the flight deck?"
Sterling gets slowly to his feet. "Er, alright," he replies, a nervous expression crossing his face. "What's a dropship?"
The console's jump drive indicator beeps and glows red to indicate the jump drive has reached full charge.
"I think the closest thing in your time's parlance would be a shuttlecraft." Galactix says, heading for the archway that leads back out.
Flight Deck - Deck 1 - ISV Galactix <ISV Galactix>
This massive chamber has sufficient docking facilities for several large vessels, and multiple fighter squadrons. Smaller vessels are stored in smaller hangars arranged like shelves on the side walls. High above on the ceiling a large blister dome houses the flight control center. It is mostly glass windows, giving the flight controllers inside a 360 degree view of the deck below. Access to the flight control center is gained through a hover tube which hugs the hangar wall and the ceiling, running towards the dome.
At present quite a few of the vessels parked here are in bad shape. Only one or two appear space worthy. The others appear to be in the process of repairs and overhauls from severe damage.
Galactix steps over to a small shuttle and taps a switch on the side, causing a boarding ramp to extend. "It isn't much, but I don't require it more than for simple transportation."
Sterling follows the old man down the corridor. "Space Shuttle? Don't y'gotta be an astronaut t'ride in one of those?"
Galactix chuckles. "Not in my time, no." He vanishes within.
James Sterling boards the DS-Galactix
Galactix has arrived.
Galactix boards the DS-Galactix
Galactix has manned the main console.
DS-Galactix
A rather spartan conveyance, Galactix' drop ship is built for short transport to planet surfaces than for long term comfort. Two simple benches line the aft of the compartment along the walls, and a hatch leads out the back. The cockpit is simple, permitting manual control or Galactix is able to pilot it himself via remote.
Sterling ambles unsteadily onto the dropship. "Oh yeah -- sci-fi," he says, waggling his eyebrows and making air quotes.
The controls begin to work themselves as the ship lifts off and glides out the back of Galactix' hangar bay into orbit around a world that looks much like Earth, but the landmasses are significantly different.
Sterling sits down suddenly on one of the benches as the ship begins to move. "This is startin' t'get old," he grumbles. He knocks on his own forehead with his knuckles. "Can I change th'channel or somethin'? C'mon!"
The ship lines up with a descent vector and begins to descend. "I would if I could, I truly would." Galactix says with a chuckle.
The ship fires its thrusters as it begins a descent towards the planet below.
Sterling snorts. "Yer a pal, imaginary oldbie," he says with a wry grin.
With a soft whump the ship sets down. "There... that does it. Shall we step out for fresh air?" Galactix inquires, the hatch opening to the outside.
Sterling nods. "Yeh, alright." He gets up slowly and stares out the hatch, then makes his way out.
James Sterling disembarks from the DS-Galactix
Galactix has arrived.
Galactix disembarks from the DS-Galactix
The landing area consists of several circular platforms where spaceships and aircraft can land. Each platform is surrounded by lamp flowers to make it easier for pilots to navigate their landing properly, and extending from them are large walkways leading to the spaceport terminal. The landing areas and walkways together form the shape of a raven as depicted in the Danu Chroi Logo. The spaceport terminal is shaped much like the heart of the Danu Chroi logo, and the lower point of this heart is pointed towards the city Eriacre.
"They have been working steadily to colonize this world. It is still very much as they found it. Though I would recommend against wandering too far beyond the settlement. Some of the local fauna are... not too friendly." Galactix says.
Sterling gazes about the landing area. "Who's 'they'?"
"My friend Kethren and his companions." Galactix says. "They found this world some time ago and have been settling it. They have struggled hard to keep it in tune with the planet's nature and not harm it more than they can help."
Sterling nods slowly, his eyes darting back and forth as he takes in his surroundings and instinctively looks for dangers. "They got a doctor?" he asks. "Or a medkit I can use?" He shifts his weight to favour his right leg.
"I am sure we can find one in the medical center. Come." Galactix says, heading further on into the spaceport.
Downtown - Impiruil Baile
A wide, wooden pathway runs through the downtown region. Lined with the occasional tree and lamp flower, it's a very welcoming way to get to any of the public services the city provides. Every so often along the road is a bench formed up from the same roots as the path.
Some Do-Not-Cross lines are crumpled around the area that once contained the spiky-looking Hekayti probe coffin.
Reception Area - Hospital - Impiruil Baile
With a floor of gleaming white tiles and stark white walls, this can be nothing else but a hospital reception area. The chairs that line the room are made from hardened vines on which rest old, dark green cushions. At the end of the room is an old, tired desk where the reception nurses manage their duties.
Sterling's gaze lingers on the security tape as he follows the old man into the hospital. "What happened there?" he asks.
"Ah... a strange occurance. A local race, the Hekayti, often send their dead soldiers into space in funeral capsules. Planets they land on they consider claimed... the dead are considered 'advanced scouts'. One that vanished from a contested world ended up here... quite a political mess... then suddenly, it vanished from here without a trace." Galactix says. "Thankfully the Hekayti seem to consider the matter closed."
"Bizarre," Sterling breathes.
"Indeed." Galactix says. "From the stories I hear of this universe, it is perhaps the least bizarre occurance." he says, going over to a small cabinet and withdrawing a first aid kit. "This will perhaps dull the pain, but we should have a physician check you out as soon as possible."
"Yeh, the shrapnel wounds'll get infected," Sterling agrees. "Provided, o'course, that this /isn't/ a fever dream." He smirks at the old man.
"I would figure if it was, you'd have awakened by now." Galactix says, returning a smile. "Though I can... I believe the practice is pinch? Yes.. pinch you if you'd like."
Sterling laughs. "Don't reckon that's necessary," he replies. "I'm still not convinced, especially as this place seems to have been commissioned by Disney."
Galactix chuckles. "Yes... Mr. Kethren is an architect, he designed it himself. He came from your time period, I believe."
"Oh yeah?" Sterling grins. "I keep expectin' teddy bears or pink ponies to come out and welcome me."
"Be careful what you wish for in this universe... you just might get it." Galactix says seriously. "Considering the Opodians resemble walking panda bears..."
Sterling blinks in surprise. "I didn't need t'know that."
"In fact, the Calzonites are an equine race...." Galactix says. "One I believe roams the planet Pyracan on occasion."
"'Calzonites'?" Sterling quirks an eyebrow. "Never mind. I don't wanna know."
Galactix chuckles. "My point is though that there are quite a few sentient beings in this universe that come from ancestral stock that on Earth would simply be considered fauna."
Sterling nods, his expression blank. "Right. Walkin', talkin' animals. How fun. Love that wake-up call right about now..."
"I'll see about getting the doctor to tend to you." Galactix says.