Silent Coffin (Futuristic Fanfic. Blog post deleted)

[Ambient Black]

Rays of light permeated the dusty air through thickened windows. Dark corridors barely lit by emergency lights extended in as far as the eye could see into the thick darkness, the red rotating lights dimly reaching through the black void to illuminate parts unknown. Deathly silence filled the hallway as if a tomb for an ancient pharoh, yet undesturbed. Dul thumps riverbrated through the hallway, as the dim lights slightly increase from the solar powered generators kicking in from the nearly abandoned station. Aegis station sat as a remote station for refueling in the Saparitus star system onthe far side of the Milky Way, well out of the way of organized star systems.

Sergeant Jacobs, nicknames "Grim" by some of the few survivours of the station, welded onto the arc reactor of the shuttle. The station had fallen into disrepair since the war, and the few items still working were jury rigged to keep the crew alive. Battles all across the station had left few survivors, and when the great war finally ceased, it had left the station with no coms gear and erased off of many of the star maps of other cultures.

Earth was gone,
but it didnt play out as the classic science fiction story of the 21st century. Humanity was the agressors, the alien races the ones unsuspecting as we agressively waged war on the stars. It was a reverse role, as the many alien races had not depended so much on conflict as we had imagined. They had grown peaceful in the millions of years of their
existance, and technology on a military teir for them was much less advanced than ours.

Humanity, as a whole, is designed to adapt and conquer the creatures that may destroy them, to never give them a chance. As we punished the stars, took worlds, mining them dry and expanding further, the galexy took up arms against us. We eventually moved too far, too fast, and too arrogant to see how we might fail. Unlike humanity if the role were switchedhowever, the races of the galexy chos NOT to destroy us entirely. The loss of or home world, as well as inability to colonize more, was or great punishment. If we were to breed, we had to do so with our decreased population, and across the worlds owned by other governments and alien cultures. Aegis station, at 4 miles long, was once a hub of inter species
trade, that sat barely occupied after riots, gang warfare, and paramilitary forces fought themselves to extinction. The plaugue on its own killed off nearly the ALL of the rest, with the lack of supplies.

Grim continued welding, his black cropped hair, green eyes, and gaunt face covered by the jet black space suit. An eagle atop a globe, holding a lightening bolt adorned the side of his shoulder pad; a symbol of the United EarthForces. He was a soldier by trade, to a military that no longer existed. The war had not phased him, he was a symbol of that expansionist, hopeful, yet violent nature that humanity represented when expanding to the stars. He floated in space around the defunct station, tethered lightly by his oxygen supply hose. The dark blackness of space and the
abandoned mining colony below reflected off of his silver face visor.

When fighting broke out, most of the United Earth Forces Navy had stationed across the galexy to hold many of the outposts in deep space. Naturally, the war reached far and wide, and the hulls of these various vessels littered the surrounding area, drifting in endless expanse of the stars. The daily ruitine of the station involved changing the directory of these empty shells of the past, so that they wouldnt hit the station, or salvaging them for parts to keep the station able to support what life it had left. The transition From UEF Marine to an engineer of sorts had not been difficult for Grim. He was naturally a lonesome indevidual and enjoyed keeping his mind busy with the various tasks than communications with the various inhabitants of the station.

His holo display inside of his helmet cast an eary green glow on his weathered face as he coupled power cables on the craft. The surviving humans avoided him, as much due to his antisocial behavior as his tenacity with his projects. Many had abandoned the idea of a capable craft flying them out. The shuttle was Grims project, nearly 50 meters long and made up of makeshift parts of other vehicles. A pack on his back flashed two small flames in utter silence as he was propelled back to the station. The airlock depressurizing him. As oxygen enterred the dimly lit, metalic tube of the airlock,Grim would pull off his helmet. Lighting a cigarrate to illuminate the dark circles under his eyes from his growing obsession with the craft to the point of sleeplessness.

The football field sized hanger echoed as Grim's boots made the destinctive taps across the deck. He turned on a small recorder- playing Plaisir d amour. The sweet sounds of the morose choir filling the empty hanger and echoing down the empty halls. He inhaled, and let the smoke lazily drift out of his nostrils to expand into the darkness around him. He began to fall asleep, letting pleasant thoughts of a better time fill his mind with scenes of green trees, clear skies, and the expanse of the sea in front of him. The wind kissed his cheeks, with the fresh air filling his soul with renewed vigor. The squaks of the gulls keeping him company. His black boots made prints in the sand. He looked down, and noticed he was wearing the black clad uniform of the UEF. Upon looking up he would notice the
lines of fellow troops. The Earth Government monitors broadcasting tales of victory, courage, and sacrifice on foreign fronts. He felt proud, and took a peek at the eagle adorning his shoulder. His stumache dropped...where was he? He blinked, noticing the tell tale green signs of the holographic display of his visor. The Oxygen reading was at 25% and blinking. His training kicked in, he breathed slower, tapped his communications outlet. Nothing. Panic began to take hold, as the meter dropped faster from his increased breathing. The polorized visor finally gave view. He gasped, the burning ships venting atmasphere. He didnt have a tether. He rapidly tapped his control, only to hear the screams and pleas of fellow soldiers over the coms as the burning hulks of the UEF Navy slowly drifted apart and occasionally broke apart or came together in the silence of space. Men were burning up in atmasphere, flooding the coms with agony. His meter hit zero, and he began to choke.

Grim woke with a start, falling from his chair. He gasped for air on the ground, inhaling the stale oxygen of the station. His cigaratte had fallen to the floor, and had left a burn on the steely panels his fingertips grasped so tightly. Sweat dripped from his neck. He angrily rose to his feet, kicking the chair across the deck. The sound of the clatter echoing down the empty halls. The song had long ended, with only light static emitting from the device. The lights flickered as the an intercom picked up in the hanger. "Hey, Grim. Top wants to see you in the control room.", the female reported. Grim didnt bother to reply, instead hitting the button on his I.D. that showed his tag on the station to signify aknowledgement. He brushed a few ashes from the pant leg of his uniform, and made his way out of the bay, the taps slowly fading out of the hanger.

------------------------

- - - Updated - - -

The dark dreariness of the halls made way for an almost clenical cleanliness. The white walls, adorned with a single red stripe to guide the way to the office of management. The metal gradually changed into
permasealed tile and bright flourescent lights, similer to a hospital. Grim had his hands in his pockets,and walked with a slight gait typical of people who spent long hours in zero gravity situations, back slightly
slumped. His 5 o' clock shadow showed that he neither took the time, nor effort, to look classy as he stopped outside the door of Aegis Management. Two men, dressed in light khaki uniforms, with old pistol sidearms, stopped him just outside. "Jesus Grim you could at least have ATTEMPTED to get something more...presentable.", one of the officers remarked, frowing. Grim rolled his eyes, and brushed past the man into the office. The floors were carpeted lightly in crimson red, and a single desk sat in the middle. Management, as some would call it, was one of few factions on the
station that retained some power. Raytheon Mining Company held most of the assets on Aegis, as well as the paychecks of the scavaging teams. Getting on the bad side of the now defunct company generally meant starvation at best for those that couldnt obtain food on their own.Of course it was no longer a corporation, and was a shadow of its former self,
but liked to maintain the appearance of such to better secure the benefits of the past. The ship graveyard in the back window outlined a man in his late 50s in a cushioned executive seat. Fine wines and delecacies adorned the shelves to either side of the office. Things Grim himself had found but a luxury he could not afford on his meagre salery. Taking those items from the fleet, even when you found them, was a crime highly punishable with the strict economic system of Aegis.


The seated man, dressed in a luxury black suit, ran a hand through his grizzled gray cropped hair and sighed. The man's jaw was clinched, and his eyes narrowed at Grim. Grim lit a cigarrate, letting it hand lazily out of the side of his mouth, and helped himself to a glass of the mans wine. He knew he was in for a chewing out, and had better make the best
of it. As if switched on by the opening of the bottle, the man let go of the torrent. "GRIM! You lousy son of a bitch!
Where are the fucking shipments?! I've given every one of you selfish, ex military bastards in here, and not one can tell me why the food shipments are slowing down! THE PEOPLE ARE IN AN UPROAR!". Grim took the time to look around at the canned foodstuffs and fancy wines on the shelves. Food hadnt been in any sort of shortage. The ship graveyard was FULL of the stuff in old mess halls and supply lockers. This was Top's typical political game. Grim weakly smiled, nodded, and narrowed his eyes at Top. He didnt know why he was witholding shipments, nor did he care at this point in the game. Grim would be damned if he let this man yell at him to put on a show. "YOU WIPE THAT SMUG FUCKING GRIN RI-"

Top never finished his sentence. Grim took one more inhale, put out the cigaratte on the mans fancy oak desk, flicked itat him, and then turned to leave. Top, Furious that there was an ash stain on the front of his attire, slammed his fist on a button embedded in his desk. The security hatch opened upwards just as Grim reached the entrence. One of the guards
reached for his shoulder. Grim brought his right arm up, placing it against the bend in the officer's elbow. He wrapped it around, so that his forearm was around the elbow, and violently jerked up. A sickening snap of the bone, followed by the scream of the security officer, echoed down the hallway, quickly becoming a sickening choke and girgle as Grims left
punched him in the throat. Grim fluidly grabbed the mans sidearm as he fell, pointing it at the head of the other officer (Who was still fumbling with the pistol holster strap.) "Woah Woah Woah Woah! Calm down!", the 2nd officer said as he backed up, bringing his hands away from his pistol and covering his face.

Silence filled the halls, accompanied by a slight trickle of blood that gently touched the edge of Grim's boot. He pistol whipped the man, sending teeth accompanied by a mist of blood scattering down the hallway. The 2nd officer
crumbled to the floor, sobbing. He could hear Top breathing heavily in the background. He turned to point the pistol at him. The aging man's eyes widened, and he stepped back slightly. "Calm down grim...not your fualt. My mistake.", top said in a soothing voice. Grim spat, ejected the magazine from the pistol, and racked the current round out. The brass clinked off the floor, rolling through a pool of crimson, and leaving a light trail on the floor as it rolled.He nonchalantly dropped it to the floor as he turned in his heel, returning to his little corner of the universe.

Since the plague, Top's lackeys were remarkably poor trained. There would be no reprisals. Grim had a reputation, and many of the young officers knew better than to attempt access to his dark sanctuary in the doomed station.Top simply stood, rubbing the back of his head . Grim sighed, as the telltale taps of his boots on the tile signaled his departure.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He sat down in the food collection area, the crowds waiting in line giving him dirty stares. Top had obviously been working the propoganda game. He rubbed his temples, got up, and gave his meal to a small child in the line. It was purely symbolic of course. Grim had been living on bare essentials for two days, but he hoped it'd show the population the ex jump jet troopers werent holding out on them. It was for this very reason he left his sidearm back in his small port bay. He closed his eyes and fiddled with the sleeve of his black body suit. A fellow ex U.E.F soldier passed him
in the halls leading back to his bay. They were not usually kept on seperate and tight schedules to forbid them from speaking to one another and gaining any political power. A quick two fingered salute from the opposite man, behind a polorized visor, was enough to cause grim to momentarily pause and look back as the man passed. Emblazened on the back
of the uniform, and sketched in white with thin lines were the words "Fear not the future." Bold words with a thinningpopulation, kept alive only through the secracy of the station, and surrounded by the dead hulks of a once proud
spacefaring culture. He frowned, shoved his hands in his pockets, and continued towards bay Delta 32.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He awoke with a pounding headache and a flashing of lights, and rolled out of bed with a thump on the floor. Glass
bottles clattered as he stumbled half asleep over to the light blue of his computer terminal.

DAILY OPERATIONS//

-Hulk of the U.E.S. Defiance I.D. tagged by Juliet Julet One Niner. Supply manifest confirms abundance of food and
supplies in lower mess deck, along with arms and ammunition to be delivered directly to the Dispach Office in
cargo 24. Per usual modus operandi, keep on the lookout for a working jump drive that isnt fried.-

Ship Classification: Dreadnaught
Designation: DNT 504-A
Armament: TBD
Commanding Officer: Admiral James Healy (K.I.A)
Crew: 30,214 (KIA)
Length: 8 Kilometers
width: 1.5 kilometers

Upon retrieval of goods, ship will be checked to ensure no orbital path with Aegis.


He stopped reading. The rest of the orders told what he would be supplied, but was purely for professionalism. He opened his personal stash of oxygen, supplies, and munitions. It was unusual for Jump Jet personell to carry firearms, but grim prefered to be prepared for any alien presence on the ships. You never know what could and couldnt still be
around after a decade.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Space, empty silent. Endless, vast, dangerous, unforgiving. The lone figure stood out against the near total darkness of space. Only his shallow breaths in the vaccume sealed space suit. His manuever pack let out light trails of blue flame,a quick burst of thrust sending him forward into the dark. The hull of the UES Defiance drifted lazily as it still dripped Collant from the battle nearly 12 years ago. Grim felt the hull slide under his fingers as he managed to find gripping. The massive warship, nearly two miles in length, was almost untouched - save the atmasphere had vented in most portions of this ship. Grim drifted into an almost square section, with a human sized bulkhead facing the blast door in a V Shape, with a computer in the larger portion and the point to the door. He ran his U.E.F I.D into the machine. "Welcome, Staff Sergeant Vincent Jacobs. Your presence has been logged. Please procede to the debriefing room." The doors opposite the V Hissed, dispensing a decompression of air, mitigated because Grim was behind the V operating bulkhead.

He made his way into the tight rectagular decompression room. The bulkhead closed behind him, as he sat in utter darkness,and weightlessness. His soft breathing attuning his ears on the inside of his space suit. He felt the area pressurise, although the lights were inservicable. Two twin flash lights turned on from the two sides of his silver plated visor, illuminating the chamber. He moved to the door opposite, likely jammed, and pulled a welding tool from his side metal pouch. He began cutting into the door, the white flashes of light illuminating the dark walls and sparks lazily drifting past his visor. The red glowing circle complete, he grabbed the rings on the roof section for holding
during the decompression process, and kicked in the circle. The large metel chunk flew inwards through the low gravity,hitting the bulkhead in the distance.

He placed both hands on the side of the impromptu entrance, and managed to get his large suit through. It was built for this sort of thing. Grims unit, Echo Six, was designed for zero gravity warfare back in the day. UEF Echo Six would jetpack out of the ship, and attempt to fix enemy frigates and larger vessels with explosives or infiltrate them. Many had immense respect from fleet back in the day, but that meant little considerring the deaths they all shared. Grim re-focused. He headed down the corridors, looking for anything usefull, the twin beams of light illuminating the path ahead
in the dreary bowels of the derrilect ship. The creaks and groans of the hull occasionally pierced the silence.

He moved to another key door, this one internal. Grim swiped his key card, and the door opened with an electronic hiss to the side. Grim stopped. Bodies. Frozen eternally in the deep of space, as they had died. Expressions still paralyzed in fear and shock. The corpses had ice crystals on them, and floated in the long, narrow, bullet hole filled corridor. Grim
stared. At the far end of this hallway was the electronical storage for the unit. He drifted from bulkhead to bulkhead,attempting to avoid the black body suited corpses of the UEF soldiers.

He took just a moment to stare into the faces of one of the marines...and was instantly fixed to it. His mind raced. Burning hulls of ships crossed his memory. The screams... He pushed away from it quickly, and returned to his work, breathing increased. He keyed another door, which hissed open and revealed a significant stash of electrical equipment. He was just about to take note, when a large clank resounded through the ship...an almost walking pattern.

He wasnt alone.

He held himself motionless, and turned off his twin side lights to his helmet. Darkness engulfed him, in the room full of corpses. He pulled his handgun slowly from the magnetic hip holster, something not regulation but he kept on him out of pure habit. His breathing increased, as the sounds got closer. He aimed his handgun at the entryway, waiting till when his persuer would be in the door before turning on his lights to fire. The frozen blood that had vacated the bodies of the other soldiers still glistened in the air, so getting a shot would not be easy through the frozen crimson mist even when he
illumiated it. He steadied himself, pistol ready. The footsteps reached the door. Time seemed to stop. He turned on his lights, illuminating through the pink mist to a humanoid body. He he tried to see the target, and his finger lightly started to pull the trigger of his pistol. "Jacobs?", the thing said. "You're still alive?!". Grim stopped. He knew that voice. "no fucking way.", his voice rasped from misuse. "Yeah, its me jacobs. Yurik. From Luna echo six jump school?". He lowered his pistol slightly. "How?", he rasped. "Ill explain in a bit. But this section of the ship is shut down to conserve power. Id like to know the same for you. Haha. But lets get you out of here.", the figure turned and drifted down the corridor. Grim Followed.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He had lost him. The dark corridors winding into the darkness. He noted his oxygen almost halfway. If he did not see his friend soon, he would be forced to turn back. A canister scraped the side wall, and Grim grabbed the bulkhead, rotated, and leveled his Mark 6 High Caliber handgun. Yurik's clear faceplate showing obvious signs of distress. "Grim...we've got a problem.". The dark corridors suddenly seemed all the more ominous with the glowing red backup lights. Grim turnedhis head to the side, as if questioning. Yurik was about to respond, when he turned around, eyes open with fear. "We have to go. We have to go now!". A Shadowy limb grabbed his arm, humanoid in shape. Yurik turned in the low gravity with his
jump pack, and fired at the shadow. Flashes of light erupted down the hallway, as more of the shadowy arms moved from
the bulkhead, reaching in the direction Yurik. "DONT LET THEM TAKE ME!", Yurik screamed as the humanoid hands grabbed him. Yurik was pale, and blood caked his outer visor. leaking through his now punctured neck and freezing. Grim shot in the direction of the creatures. Yurik's body
was torn apart, blood flash freezing. The halls were on fire. Bodies floated in the corridor as the creatures grew all the more real. Arms extending from every bulkhead, reaching for grim. One grabbed his gun, and he wrestled for it. It pushed towards his face, the rounds firing in quick succession past his head from his own handgun. It was remarkably strong. Screams and wails of men and women echoed down the blood soaked corridor. His vision flashed white.

Where was he...

[Sicarioano]

You my friend, have to much time on your hands. But good read none the less.