Archeia's Atheneum (The First Shift)

Episode Seven: High Jump

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A simple slice of pepperoni, but topped with jalapeño peppers, for zest. The Admiral had no stomach for it. The cook had become chummy with Byrd through the voyage after many a midnight whiskey, and after week two and nearly three of the battle had sent him the "specialized" dish--not really knowing the benefit, but hoping there was one nonetheless. He'd seen Byrd looking increasingly disheveled with the passing days, and took drinks in his quarters now. He spoke less too.

Dick eyed the slice--appreciated the sentiment--but let the cold steal its heat, and stuck to his black coffee. He was tired but couldn't sleep. Hungry but couldn't eat. Losing, but wouldn't admit defeat. The Admiral felt his age for the first time but knew he had to fight that feeling above all else. The expedition and his legacy counted on it. As his gaze fixated on a desk photo of his wife and kids, the coffee too had cooled. Entranced by the image, Dick entertained the thought that this was all a huge mistake.

A knock on the door shook Byrd from his thoughts. "Come in," he grunted. The Captain turned the latch, opened the door, and shut it behind him. Then he turned to his friend and commanding officer.

"Sleep any?" he asked.

"No. What's happened?"

"You drunk?" the Captain caught a disapproving glance from Byrd. "With all due respect," he added.

"My head's clear. Tell me what's happened."

"A new craft is making a slow approach to the Paragon. The Insight is present."

"Alright, I'll meet you there," said Byrd. When the Captain left, Dick faced his desk, reached for his pipe, coffee cup, and cap--and then he set the small family portrait on its face with care. On his way to the bridge, Byrd flicked his wrist; dumping the cup's contents into the frigid sea. Upon reaching the bridge, a few Officers saluted him as he made his way in. The Insight; Benjamin stood facing the window--and Byrd walked over beside him.

"There's a new craft?" he asked.

Benjamin's icy blue eyes didn't once blink or shift whilst he spoke. "You should be honored Admiral. Your American forces have proven surprisingly consistent; a Stagnant Lord has been sent to oversee the battle." The Admiral couldn't see what he meant. "Where?" Ben asked for Byrd, "A little off the Paragon's port bow." Byrd waved over someone with binoculars. Once in hand, he put them to his eyes. Off aways, the battle raged as it had for so long prior. Allied cannons pushed at the small sky-born fleet, but it all seemed futile. The black saucer crafts were too damn fast, never appeared to need fuel, and could repel shells mysteriously if they would happen to "hit." It was also clear to the Admiral that they couldn't stay a steady advice. They learned that when a battleship went offensive: one of the crafts (which the Insight coined a G1-S.I.N. Carrier) emitted a brilliant white flash, and the whole of the ship's starboard exploded and was almost immediately shrouded in steam. By the time the mist cleared, the ship was eighty percent sunk--lifeboats sailing in retreat. If the enemy was that capable without support, what would this new overseer bring to the battle? Thought Byrd feverously.

He carefully watched the massive hovering pyramid as a triangle craft gradually disappeared inside. The Paragon Battle-Cruiser held its position throughout the siege and showed no sign of moving. Three sides, black but reflective, and looking similar to a pin on end--the ominous monolithic ship guarded the great Antarctic plateau, a hundred feet above it. The plateau ten thousand feet above sea level. Byrd thought it looked like something out of a Lovecraft/Huxley crossover.

"I don't like this," said Byrd with seriousness.

Now Benjamin made eye contact, "What will you do Admiral?"