"I sit down to a blank page and see my oldest friend. Some days I write something decent. Some days I suck. Whatever. It’s not like I won’t be back tomorrow."
~ Sera Gamble

Friday 20 May 2011

Ghosts Of Time - Pages 2 & 3

Anya races down the corridor with superhuman efficiency, the stunned and staggering personnel in their blue uniforms, some dead some dying, don’t even slow her down as she weaves and leaps past them. She is a blur of deep red pvc and paper white hair streaming behind her, her artificial red pupil eyes fixed dead ahead in concentration of achieving her mission. Sparks fly and bodies strewn across her path don’t even slow her down.

Suddenly sliding to a halt in front of an access panel, Anya pulls a sidearm from her jacket and shoots electric bolts at one edge of the panel, burning a small hole through the locking mechanism. Smiling, she swings her right foot and kicks the panel in with one smooth movement. Replacing the firearm in it’s holster, she dives headfirst in.

Landing in a crouching position, Anya looks up to see she is in a smaller, more hexagonal corridor. Used more for maintenance than as a general access way. Though it would have to do for now. As she straightens up, she can hear an explosion behind her, and the screams of her comrades as laser fire fills the main corridor she just left, and the smell of burning flesh begins to seep into the access corridor she now stands in. Wrinkling her nose, she strides forward with renewed determination, putting as much distance between her and her enemy as she can. Reaching the end of the short corridor, she leaps up at a metal access ladder, grabs hold, and hauls herself up in double time.

Emerging from a hatchway in the floor, Anya finds herself in a small low ceiling compartment with various consoles and cables scattered around the edges. She closes and seals the hatchway beneath her. And rushes over to the console. Grabbing hold of what looks like a fancy dark green-grey metal cuff bracelet, Anya slips it on. She then starts punching keys on the console, and the viewscreen above starts lighting up with alien sigils. They had once seemed new and exciting to the human people, they had thought the aliens had come in peace, to share their technology with us. We should have learnt from our own past what happens when we discover new civilisations, at first we show them new and shiny things, then we want their land, and are willing to imprison and slaughter the so-called savage occupants of that land to get it. Only we aren’t the advanced civilisation arriving on new uncharted territory. This time we are the ‘savages’ fighting to keep our whole planet.

A bump from under the hatchway catches Anya’s attention away from the console. Startled, she looks at the hatch with wide eyes. “More time,” she mutters, “I just need a little more time.” With a shrug, she realises she’s in a time machine, time is the one thing she should have plenty of. Hammering away at the console’s keys, small windows flash up on the bright blue-lit viewscreen, only to disappear as more windows constantly flash up. Then one window lights up with a few short sigils and three dots after it. “Where to… ?” she breathes. Staring at the screen for a few brief seconds, Anya hears a heavy thud directly underneath the hatchway, making her shoulders physically jerk as her heart skips a beat. They’re close. She hits for keys in quick succession, hovers another second, then hit’s the bigger key on the right. Hovering paused a moment, Anya hears the reassuring sound of a whirring engine start up, and the whole compartment begins to vibrate. She smiles, she’s made it.

BOOM! The burst hatchway flies up into the compartment, hitting the low ceiling, and comes crashing down again, narrowly missing her nose as she ducks instinctively backwards. A deep throaty groan, and the ugly green skinned muscle-bound brute rears it’s heavy body through the hatchway. As it struggles, Anya draws her firearm, takes aim, and shoots an electric beam right in it’s eye, straight through what she thinks is it’s brain. The beast falls straight back down through the hatchway.

The compartment lurches and spins, so much so that Anya struggles to maintain her balance, knees half bent with her arms unsteadily held out, firearm still in hand. With a final lurch, and a blinding white glow all around her, Anya feels a wave of dizziness and nausea washing over her. She teeters, then her knees give way, she falls to the floor, unconscious before her head hit’s the metal grid floor.

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