Sun Feb 27, 2005 4:11 pm by Killa
Sorry it's pretty short, but I really don't have any more time. PS. I couldn't use the Microsoft Word Spell Checker or Grammar Checker, so I'm using my Internet spell checker, so my grammar may be a little bad. Sorry again.
Project: Revolution Chapter 3
Trent looked out the window of his holding cell again, seeing the blue-green dust cloud that kept the Alaska system hidden from the rest of Liberty and the colonies, and over to his left, saw Juneau Shipyard.
The ship engaged it’s cruise engines once again, and headed for the thickest part of the cloud, where the navigation buoys showed the only safe passage through.
As the Jumpgate and Juneau disappeared from sight, Trent looked forward to the cockpit. This was a prisoner transport and all that filled the inside of it were the two seats in the cockpit, an emergency supply closet and the holding cells, which were nothing but cast-iron grid walls with benches in them.
Trent couldn't identify ether of the guards, even in the well lit interior of the ship. Not only were their backs turned, but they were also wearing masks.
There were only three other people on the ship, excluding Trent. The pilot, the navigator, and a sleeping guard with a rifle, sitting on the seat beside his cell. The only thing that he could tell about the guards was that the pilot was the same one who had winked at him suspiciously on Manhattan.
Trent looked back out of the window, seeing only the red lights on the buoys up against the blueish-green dust cloud.
They had been in the thickest part for about one minute, and Trent guessed that they were about half way to the prison station.
The pilot pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
“Huh, you know those things kill?” The navigator said, looking over at the man. He put his hand up to his mouth and coughed.
“True, and so do these.” The man with the cigarette said without any emotion, pulling out a pistol from his jacket. Before the man beside him could react, the other one shot him in the head. The navigator fell from his seat and crashed to the floor.
The man stood up and pointed the gun at the guard who woke up when he heard the thud on the ground.
“What the hell? Oh holy crap!” The guard yelled as soon as he woke up, fumbling around with the rifle in his lap. He was shot four times in the chest before he could get his finger around the trigger, and fell back into his chair with his head hanging over the back.
The man with the gun stopped the ship and opened Trent’s cell door.
He climbed out and looked at the man.
“Are you the one?” Trent asked, looking at the guard suspiciously.
Before he could answer, a communication came over the radio. “Transport leader, what’s going on? Why did you stop, we’re almost at the station?”
“I’ll explain everything in a minute Mr. Trent.” He said walking back over to the cockpit.
“Transport leader respond.” There was a pause. “Transport leader respond.”
“Transport leader, if you don’t respond we’re calling Mitchell for backup.”
The pilot just sat back down in his seat and picked up the microphone. “There’s no problem Beta Twelve. Everything is going exactly as planned, we were just having radio trouble.” The man put down the microphone and motioned for Trent to sit in the seat beside him.
Trent noticed the man switch over to the system channel on his radio.
“Copy that Transport leader. Shall we continue? The station’s only about seven klicks away.”
The man picked up the microphone once again and said, “No, this is exactly where we need to be. ‘Time Paradox.’”
Trent wondered what he could mean by “Time Paradox.” Then he saw several ships closing in on the scanners.
“Transport leader, please repeat what you just said. We think there was some type of glitch with your radio transmi- what the hell? I’ve got several unidentified ships closing in on us fast. We’d better get out of here now, they’re only four klicks away.” The escort leader said, activating his cruise engines.
As the escort wing turned and headed for the prison, the transport began flying toward the incoming ships.
“Transport leader, what the hell are you doing? They’re right on top of you!” The escort leader yelled into his radio as he and his wing turned around and headed for the transport.
“Transport leader respond! All escort wings, prepare to engage. Prison Station Mitchell this is Escort Leader Beta Twelve, we are being followed by several unidentified ships, send backup immediately!” The escort leader said over his radio.
Trent looked over strangely at the man flying the ship. Who was he? And more importantly, what was he doing?
“Incoming ships, this is Escort Leader Beta Twelve, you are in restricted space. Identify yourselves at once or we will open fire, this is your one and only warning.”
The man sitting next to Trent picked up the microphone again and said “Incoming ships, do whatever you feel is needed to defend yourselves.”
“OK, so I take it you know who these guys are?” Trent said.
“They’re our escort wing, they’re going to get us out of here.”
Now the ships were only two and a half klicks away, and closing fast.
“Transport Leader, what’s going on? Get out of there now!”
The man sitting next to Trent did not respond.
The escort wing arrived at the transport, ready to fight the incoming ships.
The cloud was still too thick to make out the ships, all he could do was see them on the ship’s scanners.
“All units fire at will!” The escort leader screamed into his microphone.
Again, I apologize for such a short chapter and the long wait.
Edited by - killa on 6/2/2005 9:49:21 PM