It wasn’t a dream; Lights, brilliant blue illuminated the silent steel husk of Bahamut. Whether by some tampering of Charles earlier that day or the lifting of some magic from our tomb, the fusion power core had become active. All around us the silence manifested itself, once our minds rested in the darkness and flickering of blue, now that we could see everyone around it, an eerie feeling much like death was upon us.
We began looking around only to find all the others situated in a state of hibernation or death without decay. Edgar, Motron and Boren a heap of crumpled armour sealed behind the protective shield that now held them captive inside the cannon core. Maggie along with her husband Leinis were both huddled together against ammunition crates near the bunks to the right of the command console; Croglin with his wife Celise were cuddled up tightly together in the bunk just behind them. Ceska, the wife of Motron, had Priscilla, the only child on board, wrapped tightly in hear arms on the floor just behind the center bulkhead along the right shell wall behind the others. Ruldo sat motionless his head bowed with both hands upon his lap in the command console. The solitude of silence steals heartbeats from my chest.
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
Ps. That is all my heart could bear to write.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
World's Over Journal III Breathing Awake
Early this morning our tomb’s silent darkness was broken; I call it morning, but honestly I had no idea what time of day it is. The flickering of fusion energy within the tubes, which we usually slept through by now, stabilized into bright blue beams of light all around us. The floors, walls and ceiling lit the entirety of our once corpse like shell.
Though much of our little world seemed more alive than we had ever known it, no one else reanimated. It was eerie, as for the first time we took in with our eyes the full weight of our tomb. Those sleeping remained in their slumber, heads bowed with clumps of matted hair hanging over their grimy emotionless faces, uncaring at the change in life around them. Silent guardians in their combat armour sat or lay about us where they had fallen. Some in their battle stations or huddled against one another beside an ammo crate or cuddled together on a bunk arm over arm. They weren’t even breathing, all at once this fact, which we had been oblivious to until now, hit the both of us hard, how didn’t we notice this before?
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
Though much of our little world seemed more alive than we had ever known it, no one else reanimated. It was eerie, as for the first time we took in with our eyes the full weight of our tomb. Those sleeping remained in their slumber, heads bowed with clumps of matted hair hanging over their grimy emotionless faces, uncaring at the change in life around them. Silent guardians in their combat armour sat or lay about us where they had fallen. Some in their battle stations or huddled against one another beside an ammo crate or cuddled together on a bunk arm over arm. They weren’t even breathing, all at once this fact, which we had been oblivious to until now, hit the both of us hard, how didn’t we notice this before?
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
World's Over Journal II Time & Place
So Charles and I had been attempting to work out where we were headed. Mostly we rambled back and forth in the silence until our voices were harsh or we one of us fell asleep, head upon the other’s shoulder. One night after a few hours of what could only be described as banter Charles blanked out, I looked at him and he was as white as a sheet with his jaw hanging wide open like a cod fish, and his eyes we lamp in the darkness. He stirred suddenly saying “Antioch, we’re supposed to meet the mobile fleet there. But we won’t make it, resistance at Three Rivers, tell command.
So he believes we are now just south of a place called Three Rivers along something called the I-Five, and that we were on our way to a place called Antioch. Before being hit, or falling asleep whichever came first, we were on our way to join the massive mobile core for a flanking assault upon our enemy’s rear guard. Along with Bahumat there were three other Ghost XI model mobile tanks, six single man and dual operator Crab II model quadruped tanks. A total of thirty seven well trained soldiers and seven stole away civilian family members in the Bahumat.
Supplies of water are getting short, the silence haunts our dreams, soon we will have to move the others to see if there are any liquid rations in the crates they are slumped up against. I hope Charles can get the power core back online, every day he spends countless hours in the darkness underneath the commanders console where the fusion reactor resides.
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
So he believes we are now just south of a place called Three Rivers along something called the I-Five, and that we were on our way to a place called Antioch. Before being hit, or falling asleep whichever came first, we were on our way to join the massive mobile core for a flanking assault upon our enemy’s rear guard. Along with Bahumat there were three other Ghost XI model mobile tanks, six single man and dual operator Crab II model quadruped tanks. A total of thirty seven well trained soldiers and seven stole away civilian family members in the Bahumat.
Supplies of water are getting short, the silence haunts our dreams, soon we will have to move the others to see if there are any liquid rations in the crates they are slumped up against. I hope Charles can get the power core back online, every day he spends countless hours in the darkness underneath the commanders console where the fusion reactor resides.
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
World's Over Journal I Silent Tomb
This is the first entry in the journal logs Charles suggested we start keeping, for the most part to help keep us sane. We can only write for short periods, during the bursts of blue light which goes running through the fusion tubes along the floor or above us on the roof of our otherwise bleak and silent tomb. Charles will be helping, you know, with the technical military verbiage I just never understood, which there isn't much purpose of learning it now; not now, now that it’s all over. It doesn't look like we’ll be leaving this mechanical beasts belly any time soon.
Twelve of us there were in the geay and black camouflage steel belly of Bahumat. Only Charles and I are awake, the others seem to be in a state of hibernation, which we cannot wake them from, no matter what we try. Water down their front, a good slap to the face, the beautiful key strokes of the piano, we cannot wake them, and we cannot get out. I'm sad, for it seemed that Charles and I woke so easily, amongst the erratic flashes of bright silver blue light.
Today is our thirteenth day stuck inside the Bahumat, a hexapod class tank; which was made to in the image of a very large and well armoured crab. When it was new there were cannon turrets where operators sat, with one large one for its right arm instead of a claw. Several antennae stuck from the Bahumat’s face, just above the eyes, which functioned as turrets themselves. But now was our silent tomb, resting against the largest tree I've ever seen. Bahumat was missing three of its six legs, the middle right and the outer two on the left, which was propped against the tree; only the large right claw cannon remaining of its two magnificently powerful arms.
Bahumat was a third generation crab tank, able to hold a crew of up to seventeen. It had several bunks, a small mess and a wash room with a pleasant sized shower; which I’d like to point out, is no longer functioning. The Driver's consoles had to be operated by three specialized pilots while in combat, one for normal leg movement across whatever desolate or jagged terrain the tank may need to cross; another for the rotation of the torso of the crab, and the third to be the eyes and ears, to plan all tactical moves ahead of its victim’s. These were all under the command of the Bahumat’s captain, who had the ability to control the whole tank and all its functions from his console if necessary, which he did mostly out of combat or in moments of dire need. The pilot next to him was combat movement and evasive manoeuvres while his counterpart was weapons and systems alert.
Behind the captain’s command chair was another station with many screens and panels which controlled defensive shields, counter measures, decoys and energy flow within the tank. The whole inner right side of the tank was a cooling core for the large laser claw cannon. Inside the round cannon core sat three operators, a mechanical engineer who monitored heat and the shield, a second which was the loader and finally, the firing operator.
When the tank was active there many screens and cooling tubes which lined the floors and ceiling for power that flashed a bright blue light while they streamed the liquid laser from the command chair, which was raised above the main laser reactor. Behind and beside the whole command console and defensive panel there was several feet of storage for weapons and ammunition or anything else the military trained murderers might need in the Last Great War. The left side of the tank was mostly living quarters and storage for the necessaries to keep people alive while living inside Bahumat. Before the silence of the last great war, I hadn’t cared how amazing my husband's tank was or is, but now it is the only our only memory, all else before this has faded. Sparks of blue laser light flash every so often along the walls, floor and ceiling as the core attempts to reengage and the emergency power wane. Before the world ended or... Was changed.
Neither of us is sure, or can really recall, how the immortal races ended the Last Great War, known to humanity as the Third World War. I don't understand it all really. Did they put us all, every human, into this state of hibernation… If so, for how long have we been sleeping? There is no date or time which we can find to tell. We cannot get out and we can't wake our comrades from their sleep state. We cannot remember the past, not a single event before the war’s end.
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
Twelve of us there were in the geay and black camouflage steel belly of Bahumat. Only Charles and I are awake, the others seem to be in a state of hibernation, which we cannot wake them from, no matter what we try. Water down their front, a good slap to the face, the beautiful key strokes of the piano, we cannot wake them, and we cannot get out. I'm sad, for it seemed that Charles and I woke so easily, amongst the erratic flashes of bright silver blue light.
Today is our thirteenth day stuck inside the Bahumat, a hexapod class tank; which was made to in the image of a very large and well armoured crab. When it was new there were cannon turrets where operators sat, with one large one for its right arm instead of a claw. Several antennae stuck from the Bahumat’s face, just above the eyes, which functioned as turrets themselves. But now was our silent tomb, resting against the largest tree I've ever seen. Bahumat was missing three of its six legs, the middle right and the outer two on the left, which was propped against the tree; only the large right claw cannon remaining of its two magnificently powerful arms.
Bahumat was a third generation crab tank, able to hold a crew of up to seventeen. It had several bunks, a small mess and a wash room with a pleasant sized shower; which I’d like to point out, is no longer functioning. The Driver's consoles had to be operated by three specialized pilots while in combat, one for normal leg movement across whatever desolate or jagged terrain the tank may need to cross; another for the rotation of the torso of the crab, and the third to be the eyes and ears, to plan all tactical moves ahead of its victim’s. These were all under the command of the Bahumat’s captain, who had the ability to control the whole tank and all its functions from his console if necessary, which he did mostly out of combat or in moments of dire need. The pilot next to him was combat movement and evasive manoeuvres while his counterpart was weapons and systems alert.
Behind the captain’s command chair was another station with many screens and panels which controlled defensive shields, counter measures, decoys and energy flow within the tank. The whole inner right side of the tank was a cooling core for the large laser claw cannon. Inside the round cannon core sat three operators, a mechanical engineer who monitored heat and the shield, a second which was the loader and finally, the firing operator.
When the tank was active there many screens and cooling tubes which lined the floors and ceiling for power that flashed a bright blue light while they streamed the liquid laser from the command chair, which was raised above the main laser reactor. Behind and beside the whole command console and defensive panel there was several feet of storage for weapons and ammunition or anything else the military trained murderers might need in the Last Great War. The left side of the tank was mostly living quarters and storage for the necessaries to keep people alive while living inside Bahumat. Before the silence of the last great war, I hadn’t cared how amazing my husband's tank was or is, but now it is the only our only memory, all else before this has faded. Sparks of blue laser light flash every so often along the walls, floor and ceiling as the core attempts to reengage and the emergency power wane. Before the world ended or... Was changed.
Neither of us is sure, or can really recall, how the immortal races ended the Last Great War, known to humanity as the Third World War. I don't understand it all really. Did they put us all, every human, into this state of hibernation… If so, for how long have we been sleeping? There is no date or time which we can find to tell. We cannot get out and we can't wake our comrades from their sleep state. We cannot remember the past, not a single event before the war’s end.
In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles
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