A spear shaped spaceship surged through the skies of Taraven.
The red and blue lines marking a Superior Admiral's personal ship.
Yet the graceless manner in which the ship jumped about the sky in the shifting atmospheric pressures, gave a keen understanding that the pilot was unskilled in planetary flight. Or simply unskilled, full stop.
Either way, the craft finally began to slow down as the pilot begrudgingly realized that continued strain on the ship's hull would probably tear it apart.
The resultant speed now was a nonchalant stroll through the rolling clouds. Although, thankfuly, the landing position for this ship was very close by now.
Respite from Atmospheric Blending was soon.
Nobody's brain could survive the strain of turbulent atmospheric flight for long before either losing conceousness or losing their lunch.
Both of which seemed more than likely.
The craft slowly, began to descend as it's target became quite clear. The plumes of black smoke over the horizon, an obvious marker of its objective.
The piolet also began to breath in irregular spasmic fits. 1 2 3-4-5 1 2 3 4 5 1-2-3-4 5
A deep and stinging stress began to fill her lungs as the purple spire now began to emerge from the horizon.
It's illuminated features in the morning blaze, like a gruff cliff-face.
Though it's form was crumbling as she stared. Huge sheer slices of purple rock cascaded off into the sky, then plummeting down towards the planet below.
Revanna, in an uncharacteristic display, began to shiver slightly. Her entire form shuddering. Her objective was so close. Release and freedom so close. Her prize, and Theirs' so close. No guardian would stand in her way. No damnable construct of an ancient and deceased architect would stop her approach. No. Thing.
As the transport crested the western mountains of Gersanto, that sprawling husk of a metropolis greeted her. It's blackened vastness, the ruins like fortified night-time still resisting the dawn's approach.
She forced the craft into an unnecessary nosedive, down the slopes of the mountain that rested as a tombstone to Gersantos grave.
As the husked tree stumps of once luscious forests dappled the hills and plains, a silent understanding of her actions began to register.
The cold smoldering desolation...
Like her home...
Left without character, or memory...
Through eyes on the verge of bleary recollection, she hushed a whisper.
"...price..."
The word, slicing into the silent vista of a civilisation brought to ruin. Was not something she had truly considered beyond her own suffering.
But now the stretching edifice of death and ruin took its stranglehold on the throat of her emotions. A fight now set between beast and victim.
Her thoughts flying.
Had she...?
Avenged anything?
Was she even avenging her own image?
Was this even worth the blood?...
...of course not...
...but it had to be...
It wasent. Couldent.
Would never be equal to what had been before.
This city.
Was a monument to nothing.
An idle place set out amongst the stars for little more than relaxation.
She eyed it with fury.
Even the very trees were not in a place of value.
Charred as they were, their former beauty still would not have truly made the effort needed for them worth while.
The universe was sitting here.
A world all it's own.
And she had crushed it for an idle hope of what once was, and what could be.
For herself.
Not for anybody.
A sin, she thought. If such a reasonable god still held sway in the soulless apocalyptic civilization that now ruled the stars.
Ideas danced in her mind... Perhaps her future would not have been the same.
As the Admirallian Transport reached the base of the Purple Spire, the mechanical monstrocity that held Their objective came into clear sight.
Still however, the ashen surroundings still gripped her very soul fabric. And held her tight in an embrace of insidious thoughts and actions.
"Dear god... dear Creator..."
The shuttle landed itself cleanly upon a toppled structure.
Rebar and concrete poking through the crumbled building.
A small airlock door slid open, and Superior Admiral Revanna presented herself.
Her eyes surveyed the scene now with meticulous strategy.
Cold tears inching their way down her weary face.
Clearly the guardian had been destroyed by Gemini Fleet's bombardment.
The mat of purple mechanical particles littering the ground evidence of some machine's self explosion. Or, due annihilation by LSN hands.
Either way. This wasn't a moment to inspect.
Though how this spire arose, was completely against her abilities of assumption at this stage.
The unstable ground beneath her synthetic boots slid out in all directions as she attempted to ascend the toppled structure.
Whatever the Prize was, she most likely had precious little hopes of taking it out manually.
Thusly, scouting was in order.
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Science FictionAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
