ValinoreanDawn
Namarië
Epithemeus, Saturn's Eleventh Moon
February 12th, 2375
The gray dust of Saturn's eleventh moon crunched silently under the heels of the duo as they gingerly moved in elongated, awkward, jumps. Methodically planning their movements to not lose control as they traversed the surface of the moon. The oblong, non-spherical, moon of that interacted in a partial orbit of Saturn due to the interplay of the close twin celestial body Epithemeus interacted with: Janus. Epithemeus as a result had a shifting, weak, gravity of its own, and thus the denizens of the small mining colony on the Saturnine side of the just over sixty mile in diameter moon could only traverse its surface without hazard during specific times in the year. Colloquially, called 'Trade Days,' with the larger colony on the 'Space Side' or the side which faced away from Saturn. An old iron and nickel mine since partially converted to be an artificial habitat.
Either way, both stations were generally past their prime in terms of commercial interest. Far easier to reach and richer moons, asteroids, and other solar objects had been developed in the last century and such these far-flung outposts of Humanity had long given over to those who wanted peace and solitude. Away from the masses of mankind and their own social issues. Space was the wild west, the new wild west, the final frontier so to speak. And that frontier was moving ever outward. True, at one point the moons of Saturn were the fringe. The farthest one could go from Earth and the Inner colonies along the surfaces of Luna and Mars. That was decades past. What with colonies and stations built as far out as Pluto and automated probes seeking to find viable commercial interests in the Oort Cloud. Epithemeus was less the frontier and more just the backwater rural hick town on the edge of civilization.
"Should be coming up on Station 1's main airlock in a jiffy," said a male voice over the helmet comms of the duo.
"Jiffy? Another old Earther term?" The response was from a distinctly female voice.
"What. I like it. Means brief moment I think."
"Too much time with Station 2's Lexicon there Jakob."
Jakob chuckled, "Yeah well, colour me a bookworm."
"Bookworm?"
"Never mind."
"Say, what we trading with Station 1 with? We didn't bring anything."
"They're paying us back for the Solar power converters we loaned them last month. Picking up some fusion cores they got off a freight runner outta Ganymede."
Another hop and the duo sailed down into the dirt. The smaller, female of the pair, was about to make the next bound when the male, Jakob, held up a hand and said, "Wait." Of course, the voice and the hand movement were out of sync in the weak gravity of Epithemeus. His arm rising gently and slowly compared to his words. As if in some old stop camera montage. The woman's helmet swiveled from side to side. "Look," continued Jakob as he pointed gingerly at a rock outcrop. There, in the shadow of the outcrop was a slouched form. Distinctly humanoid.
Jacob was already bounding towards the EVA suited humanoid before the woman could offer complaint. Landing beside the body a full five seconds before her. Jacob slouched down, "Maria, this guy is from Station 1, look at the shoulder patch." Jakob pointed to the dusty shoulder patch that displayed in blue lettering, EPITHEMEUS STATION 1.
Maria spoke up as she continued to move her helmet from side to side, more jerking now in her movements, more caution, "Do we know who it is?"
"Let met check, Station 1 has over ninety families. May not be a face we recogni...its Charlie."
Maria jerked her head down, "The Station Chief Security Officer?" Sure enough, Jakob had reached behind the lip of the helmet's right hinge and pressed the small auxiliary lighting stud. flickering the suits interior lights on to illuminate the interior. There, mouth agape in pain, eyes dead and white, was the face of a man named Charlie. His dark skin already having the discoloration of decomposition. Though the lack of oxygen had greatly slowed the process.
"An accident?" quizzed Maria with a hint of nervousness.
Jakob reached down and brushed his hand over some of the fine moon dust, following a glint, and exposed a small pistol. "Man had his side arm drawn. Don't think this was an accident, Maria."
"We should radio home."
"Already sent a ping."
~~~
Maria was the first to see the shapes of six suited individuals drifting over a rocky outcrop. Letting the weak gravity arrest their fall slowly. Before commencing a series of hops to come before them. All of their suits bore the blue lettering declaring themselves members of Station 2. On the left breast of each was their names stenciled in white. John, Anthony, Kyle, Sebastian, Lewis, and Nicholas. All armed with an assortment of rifles except for Sebastian who also carried a shotgun mag-locked to his suits backpack.
"Christ, Jakob was right!" said Kyle.
John shot a quick remark, "Careful Kyle. We don't know who else is out here. Everyone put your radio transmitters to low power settings."
"What, think this was Poly--,"
"Let's not get too hasty."
Sebastian piped up, "Hasn't been a murder on Epithemeus in over sixty years, John. Even if this was an accident, what was Charlie doing all the way out here. He's over ten minutes from the Station 1 airlock and not even having an oxygen tank suitable for more than twenty-minutes of air." Station 1 and 2, in fact many out here in the void, followed a rule of thumb not entirely reminiscent to scuba divers on Earth. You take more oxygen than needed at all times in case of emergency or unknown factors. Everyone carried at least a small back up tank on their backs alongside the main internal tank as well in case of equipment failure.
John looked at Sebastian and knelt down next to the body. Checking the small wrist mounted computer on the corpse and the small back compartment of Charlie's suit. "Nothing but a gun only internal oxygen supply for fifteen minutes. Not even full. Was in a hurry, one way trip kind of hurry. Likely headed for us."
Everyone stiffened at that prospect. Station 1 was the larger of the two. Ninety families, over five hundred people. Station 2 had half that number.
"What should we do?" said Lewis.
"They might need help," replied John and Jakob nodded in agreement. As did Sebastian and Anthony. Kyle, however, objected by saying, "How do we know anyone is still alive?" John put a hand on Kyle's shoulder, "We will turn back if it is too dangerous."
~~~
"The airlock is open. Powers off," said Maria as the group approached the airlock to Station 1. The steel edifice of the station, which actually burrowed into the moon by several miles with various mines repurposed for farming and living space, was squat and dark. No lights from exterior lamps were on. Not even hazard lights. The group of eight approached the airlock warily. The heavy hydraulic powered door half open on its track. Moon dust having tracked inside from the cosmic wind blowing over the surface of Epithemeus.
"Keep radio transmitters on low power," reiterated John.
"But John, what if there are survivors inside?" shot Lewis.
"Best find out once we rule out no one nefarious is listening."
John crossed the threshold first, followed by Jakob, then Maria, Sebastian, and so forth. Reaching the interior panel the screen was dead. No power. John knelt down and pulled off a panel cover and with improvised ingenuity from years of experience jerry rigging equipment, he managed to cause a jolt of wires that caused the hydraulics to engage. No air rushed out to the vacuum. Instead, the interior airlock drifted open into the antechamber.
Shuffling inside John did the same trick and the door slid closed beside them before the antechamber hatch opened. Allowing them into the station proper. Everyone checked their wrist computers. Station oxygen levels were normal. Must be no structural compromises. Everyone one by one switched on their helmet lamps amid the darkness. Casting eyes about the entrance hall to the station. A scene of mild disarray was around them. Equipment left on the floor. Furniture shoved haphazardly about. Sebastian took out a small pistol he had on his hip and handed it to Maria, "Just in case."
"Thanks."
The group moved into the room, casting lights about the place, peering through hatch windows into the spaces beyond. "Stay together," reminded John. This time speaking without helmet communications. Moving to the opposite end of the hall the group opened the hatch leading to the industrial storage warehouse. Not four steps in did Sebastian kneel down and cast his helmet lamps on the floor, "Got blood over here...and the body." Following the trail of blood his helmet lamps illuminated a slumped corpse of an older man in work overalls. A gash in his neck being the likely death wound.
"A blade did this." stated Jakob matter of fact.
"So perhaps a murderer is on the loose?" added Lewis nervously.
Sebastian glanced up at Lewis, "A murderer killed five hundred people?"
John walked by, "We don't know if everyone is dead. Come on. We gotta get to the main control room. Can access station power and cameras there."
The group fell in, more alert now, weapons raised as they made their way through the warehouse. Passing a few more corpses with telltale slash wounds on their bodies. Reaching the double doors, they pried the doors open and walked in. Reaching a lift John indicated for Anthony and Lewis to stay here. "Watch our exit. Only radio incase of emergency." Both men nodded inside their helmets. The other six loaded into the lift and allowed it to rise six levels before the back opened up into a large central hallway. Here, red emergency lights flickered.
Stepping out first, rifle raised, was Sebastian, followed by the rest of the troupe. To the left was a cafeteria, windows splattered in blood with dozens of bodies littering over tables, the floor, and slumped on chairs. As if some wild melee of madness had claimed their lives. Maria almost vomited in her helmet and only the reassuring hand of Jakob allowed her to swallow it back down. The sextet reached the end with MAIN CONTROL stenciled in black above the hatch door. John pressed the panel stud to open the door, evidently emergency power was still on in this level, and the hatch slid open. The bodies of the main control centers staff were sprawled about.
"They got everyone," said John as he stopped by the form of an older man with graying hair. STATION CHIEF was stenciled above his name on his work overall.
"They?" responded Sebastian.
Maria looked out among the wide windows of the control center and paused as she looked down at the hangar scaffolding. "What ship is that?"
The word ship caused everyone to freeze in their tracks. Huddling around Maria the group looked down and saw a sleep craft, black, red, and gold, with backswept wings and motifs of a sha around the nose of the craft. Large enough to be a gunship and hold a crew of up to forty.
"Setites."
"Christ." said Sebastian and this time no one stopped them.
"Well, where are they?"
"We got Death Cultists? Why would the Polytheists attack us."
"Setites are often extremists. Why they're often fought by other god aligned forces to curb their extremist violence."
John branched off from the group and began running his fingers over a keyboard. Bringing up a video footage and log. The station had had communications with a freighter transiting from Neptune's moons to Mars. A day later the gunship had arrived, ignoring hails, and had merely docked without warning. John switched off the footage before he saw what he knew would be displayed. The futile struggle of the station's inhabitants against much better equipped and trained militants.
"We got to go. Lockdown Station 2. Run silent. Make everyone think home is abandoned," rattled off Jakob and Sebastian agreed.
The radio chimed with the voice of Anthony, "Someone just opened a hatch in the next compartment. Should we check it out?"
Sebastian, practically yelled into his helmet mic, "Get on the lift now!"
No response, the lift back down the hallway illuminated as someone activated it. Sebastian reflexively knelt down by the doorway to the main control center with his rifle at his shoulder. The lift opened and out stepped Anthony and Lewis. "What's going on," said Lewis with confusion.
"Lock the lift."
"What?"
"Lock the fucking lift!" Sebastian had not even finished his response when the lift doors closed and began to descend again. The rune for it being called lighting up.
"Whats goi-."
"Setites!"
Lewis and Anthony looked at each other and then sprinted away from the lift. John swept past Sebastian and towards a side hatch to some recreation rooms. "Come on, we'll get around them and make for the air lock. We know the terrain out there we can lose them."
"They have a bloody gunship!"
"Not if they think we're still IN this station."
The group sprang into action. Rushing through the side hatch which John tore out the control wiring for as he went through. Jamming the door closed. The group moved rapidly down the hall and took a sharp left and then a right. Going through a side maintenance hatch they arrived at a ladder that led down. "Six levels down, go, go, go." John gestured them through one at a time. Each person grabbing the ladder and beginning to slide down with the practiced precision of people that had grown up on such stations.
Sliding down first was Sebastian who immediately took up position, checking corners, he moved forth with everyone following in more or less single file behind him. Traversing the corridor until they came to the warehouse and then the air lock. Everyone broke into their fastest pace once they hit the moon dirt. Making for home.
~~~
Station 2, Control Room
"There they are," said a slender woman in blue overalls as she pointed out the window of the control rooms observation windows. The much smaller Station 2 still had the squat appearance of its larger brethren. Complete with the top-level control suite to overlook the station. The rest of the four control room staff got up from their stations to see eight figures coming toward them.
"Lockdown the station," came the voice of John over the control room communications terminal.
A man, Jasper stenciled on his breast lapel, moved back and knelt by the terminal speaker, "Come again, John?"
"Lock. Down. The. Station. Jasper."
"John, what's going on. We received an emergency message from Station 1 a few minutes ag---."
"Do not respond to that message!"
"John, all we sent was an all-clear and asked if they need assistance."
"Jasper you fucking killed us all!"
The sextet was at the airlock by now and filing inside when a proximity LIDAR ping sounded. Drifting into view over the moon's horizon, kicking up a cloud of dust, was a black-red-gold gunship.
"Oh, Lord," was all Jasper could say before a beam of red-white light from the gunships prow railgun caused the control room to detonate. The explosion only a split second as the oxygen in the room was pushed into the vacuum of space. Debris drifting like an expanding cloud in the weak moon gravity.
The gunship swept over and landed on top of the station. Armored figures dispersing with the distinctive sha mythological animal motif of Set on their armor and shape of their helmets.
~~~
Claire, one of the few young women on Station 2 not yet married or a mother, awoke from her bunk as the station shook. She let out a gasp of fright as her room door slid open and there was Maria, her older sister, and a man named Jakob. They grabbed her by the hand and hauled her into the hallway. People running and screaming towards the lifts leading into the mines.
"What is happening?!"
"We're under attack," replied an exasperated Maria.
"Under attack?"
"Setites."
Claire clutched something in her pocket and began a silent prayer. Gunfire erupted somewhere in the station but close enough to be heard.
The trio entered a main hall with ten others racing for a singular hatch. Several dropped with their backs peppered by hypersonic rounds from an armored figure coming from the hatch on the other end of the hallway. The armored figure suddenly flew back and crashed onto the ground. Behind them Sebastian and Lewis had come and were opening fire onto the armored figure and whatever was beyond the hatch it had come from. Lewis suddenly dropped with plume of red erupting from his skull. Sebastian pulled him to the side by his torso straps. Firing non-stop.
"Sebastian come on!"
"Go!" came the response. Jakob and Maria huddled onto the awaiting lift with various others. The doors closing to the sound of gunfire above. Descending into the depths of the moon. All the while, Claire continued her prayer.
~~~
"It's been ten hours. No one has come down here?" said Jakob amid the people huddled in the bunker like shelter deep in the moon. An old emergency shelter for miners long converted to the resident's usage. Near their own small hydroponic farms.
It was dark, only handheld lamps illuminated the space; it was the three of them. Maria, Jakob, and Claire. The others who had gone down with them had moved to other compartments and sealed themselves inside.
Claire kept muttering her prayer and it was then that Jakob noticed she was clutching something in her pocket. Something unnerved him and he approached rapidly, "Jakob!" He pushed aside Maria who tried to intercept and forced a hand into the pocket against Claire's protests. Pulling out a small figurine in the shape of a turquoise woman.
"Blasphemer!" He smashed the figure on the ground.
Jakob grabbed Claire and hauled her, kicking and screaming, amid cries from Maria to the door of the shelter and opening it he shoved her out into the darkness of the hallway. Locking the shelter door behind her. Claire could only cry as she shuffled along on all fours. Searching for the walls and moving along to a door. Sliding it open manually she passed through the dark leaves of hydroponic racks until she came to a second door. Opening that she meandered down a pitch-black hallway purely by touch. Running her hand over a terminal she managed to luckily press a stud that illuminated a screen. Doors opened and lights lit up. The lift they had gone down earlier.
She blinked and for a moment though she saw a human with turquoise skin in the corner of the lift. She blinked again and nothing. Yet, looking around she was on the lift now. "No!" She tried to turn back but the doors closed behind her. The lift rising Claire sunk down and sobbed. Knowing death or worse awaited her beyond those doors once the lift arrived.
The lift chimed and the doors slid open to a light shown in her face. She held up a hand and something grabbed her. She screamed and was let go. Causing her to crash back to the ground. "You'll live girl. Relax."
She paused from her crying to look up at the figures above her. Several armored figures bearing panoplies forged in the shape of hawks. Horusians. Warriors of the Winged God of the Sky.
One of the Horusians turned his hawk like helmet with its golden visor to the side. Claire followed his look at a figure in an EVA suit that was aesthetically constructed to look distinctly egyptian. Helmet striped like a head dress in blue and gold. Visor the color of turqoise. Holding a staff bearing the symbols of Hathor. "This the adherent, Priestess?"
The Priestess knelt down to Claire, "Yes, fear not young lady. Our Goddess heard your prayers and has sent you aid."
"The Setites."
One of the Horusians spoke a single word, "Gone."
Earth, February 13th, 2375
Just North of Alexandria, Egypt
Great fanfare and waters clustered with ships around the magnificence of a city just across from the old city of Alexandria. Hanging gardens, gleaming pearly white citadels, towers domed in gold and jewels. Crystal clear pools and smooth marble streets. The Holy City of Ishtar. City of the Goddess of Love. Was preparing one of its most important annual festivals. The Festival of Love, celebrated on February 14th of each year since the return of the Old Gods.
Even now pilgrims flocked the streets and only matched in number by those seeking more secular revelries. Throngs of ships both maritime and those with shuttles descending from orbit came hourly, by the minute even. Packing the city as statues of various Gods were put on display. Painted in their traditional colors. Streamers filled the air and fireworks filled the night sky in the lead up to one of the most auspicious days of a Major God. A day often considered the "Birthday of Love," such an event was none the less as important as any of the other holidays associated with Major Gods. Indeed, such events often attracted displays of other Gods and their own adherents. Clergy and adherents of other Gods joined in the festivities while shrines to Minor associated Gods filled annexes and niches. Their own smaller congregations taking part. Such as the Goddess of Dance and Joy.
While in the primary residence of Hathor, the Dendera Palace, with its porcelain white pillars gilded with mosaics of gold, silver, and studded with jewels. Painted frescoes of flowers, plant life, and imagery of animals and life abounded. There, the Turqoise Lady watched the day and night revelry in silence. She heard their prayers, some louder than others, some clearer and more honest than others, the latter were the ones she cared enough to possibly answer.
Various other Gods would be present for such an annual event. The Goddess of Dance no doubt, the Sea, even her brethren Caedes were rumored to have made the journey, but he had not made his presence known yet. She glanced up and wondered if her father, Ra, was watching from on High. Beyond the doors of Night and the circles of the solar system. If he ever spared a moments glance at the happenings of the creation, he partook in creating.
February 12th, 2375
The gray dust of Saturn's eleventh moon crunched silently under the heels of the duo as they gingerly moved in elongated, awkward, jumps. Methodically planning their movements to not lose control as they traversed the surface of the moon. The oblong, non-spherical, moon of that interacted in a partial orbit of Saturn due to the interplay of the close twin celestial body Epithemeus interacted with: Janus. Epithemeus as a result had a shifting, weak, gravity of its own, and thus the denizens of the small mining colony on the Saturnine side of the just over sixty mile in diameter moon could only traverse its surface without hazard during specific times in the year. Colloquially, called 'Trade Days,' with the larger colony on the 'Space Side' or the side which faced away from Saturn. An old iron and nickel mine since partially converted to be an artificial habitat.
Either way, both stations were generally past their prime in terms of commercial interest. Far easier to reach and richer moons, asteroids, and other solar objects had been developed in the last century and such these far-flung outposts of Humanity had long given over to those who wanted peace and solitude. Away from the masses of mankind and their own social issues. Space was the wild west, the new wild west, the final frontier so to speak. And that frontier was moving ever outward. True, at one point the moons of Saturn were the fringe. The farthest one could go from Earth and the Inner colonies along the surfaces of Luna and Mars. That was decades past. What with colonies and stations built as far out as Pluto and automated probes seeking to find viable commercial interests in the Oort Cloud. Epithemeus was less the frontier and more just the backwater rural hick town on the edge of civilization.
"Should be coming up on Station 1's main airlock in a jiffy," said a male voice over the helmet comms of the duo.
"Jiffy? Another old Earther term?" The response was from a distinctly female voice.
"What. I like it. Means brief moment I think."
"Too much time with Station 2's Lexicon there Jakob."
Jakob chuckled, "Yeah well, colour me a bookworm."
"Bookworm?"
"Never mind."
"Say, what we trading with Station 1 with? We didn't bring anything."
"They're paying us back for the Solar power converters we loaned them last month. Picking up some fusion cores they got off a freight runner outta Ganymede."
Another hop and the duo sailed down into the dirt. The smaller, female of the pair, was about to make the next bound when the male, Jakob, held up a hand and said, "Wait." Of course, the voice and the hand movement were out of sync in the weak gravity of Epithemeus. His arm rising gently and slowly compared to his words. As if in some old stop camera montage. The woman's helmet swiveled from side to side. "Look," continued Jakob as he pointed gingerly at a rock outcrop. There, in the shadow of the outcrop was a slouched form. Distinctly humanoid.
Jacob was already bounding towards the EVA suited humanoid before the woman could offer complaint. Landing beside the body a full five seconds before her. Jacob slouched down, "Maria, this guy is from Station 1, look at the shoulder patch." Jakob pointed to the dusty shoulder patch that displayed in blue lettering, EPITHEMEUS STATION 1.
Maria spoke up as she continued to move her helmet from side to side, more jerking now in her movements, more caution, "Do we know who it is?"
"Let met check, Station 1 has over ninety families. May not be a face we recogni...its Charlie."
Maria jerked her head down, "The Station Chief Security Officer?" Sure enough, Jakob had reached behind the lip of the helmet's right hinge and pressed the small auxiliary lighting stud. flickering the suits interior lights on to illuminate the interior. There, mouth agape in pain, eyes dead and white, was the face of a man named Charlie. His dark skin already having the discoloration of decomposition. Though the lack of oxygen had greatly slowed the process.
"An accident?" quizzed Maria with a hint of nervousness.
Jakob reached down and brushed his hand over some of the fine moon dust, following a glint, and exposed a small pistol. "Man had his side arm drawn. Don't think this was an accident, Maria."
"We should radio home."
"Already sent a ping."
~~~
Maria was the first to see the shapes of six suited individuals drifting over a rocky outcrop. Letting the weak gravity arrest their fall slowly. Before commencing a series of hops to come before them. All of their suits bore the blue lettering declaring themselves members of Station 2. On the left breast of each was their names stenciled in white. John, Anthony, Kyle, Sebastian, Lewis, and Nicholas. All armed with an assortment of rifles except for Sebastian who also carried a shotgun mag-locked to his suits backpack.
"Christ, Jakob was right!" said Kyle.
John shot a quick remark, "Careful Kyle. We don't know who else is out here. Everyone put your radio transmitters to low power settings."
"What, think this was Poly--,"
"Let's not get too hasty."
Sebastian piped up, "Hasn't been a murder on Epithemeus in over sixty years, John. Even if this was an accident, what was Charlie doing all the way out here. He's over ten minutes from the Station 1 airlock and not even having an oxygen tank suitable for more than twenty-minutes of air." Station 1 and 2, in fact many out here in the void, followed a rule of thumb not entirely reminiscent to scuba divers on Earth. You take more oxygen than needed at all times in case of emergency or unknown factors. Everyone carried at least a small back up tank on their backs alongside the main internal tank as well in case of equipment failure.
John looked at Sebastian and knelt down next to the body. Checking the small wrist mounted computer on the corpse and the small back compartment of Charlie's suit. "Nothing but a gun only internal oxygen supply for fifteen minutes. Not even full. Was in a hurry, one way trip kind of hurry. Likely headed for us."
Everyone stiffened at that prospect. Station 1 was the larger of the two. Ninety families, over five hundred people. Station 2 had half that number.
"What should we do?" said Lewis.
"They might need help," replied John and Jakob nodded in agreement. As did Sebastian and Anthony. Kyle, however, objected by saying, "How do we know anyone is still alive?" John put a hand on Kyle's shoulder, "We will turn back if it is too dangerous."
~~~
"The airlock is open. Powers off," said Maria as the group approached the airlock to Station 1. The steel edifice of the station, which actually burrowed into the moon by several miles with various mines repurposed for farming and living space, was squat and dark. No lights from exterior lamps were on. Not even hazard lights. The group of eight approached the airlock warily. The heavy hydraulic powered door half open on its track. Moon dust having tracked inside from the cosmic wind blowing over the surface of Epithemeus.
"Keep radio transmitters on low power," reiterated John.
"But John, what if there are survivors inside?" shot Lewis.
"Best find out once we rule out no one nefarious is listening."
John crossed the threshold first, followed by Jakob, then Maria, Sebastian, and so forth. Reaching the interior panel the screen was dead. No power. John knelt down and pulled off a panel cover and with improvised ingenuity from years of experience jerry rigging equipment, he managed to cause a jolt of wires that caused the hydraulics to engage. No air rushed out to the vacuum. Instead, the interior airlock drifted open into the antechamber.
Shuffling inside John did the same trick and the door slid closed beside them before the antechamber hatch opened. Allowing them into the station proper. Everyone checked their wrist computers. Station oxygen levels were normal. Must be no structural compromises. Everyone one by one switched on their helmet lamps amid the darkness. Casting eyes about the entrance hall to the station. A scene of mild disarray was around them. Equipment left on the floor. Furniture shoved haphazardly about. Sebastian took out a small pistol he had on his hip and handed it to Maria, "Just in case."
"Thanks."
The group moved into the room, casting lights about the place, peering through hatch windows into the spaces beyond. "Stay together," reminded John. This time speaking without helmet communications. Moving to the opposite end of the hall the group opened the hatch leading to the industrial storage warehouse. Not four steps in did Sebastian kneel down and cast his helmet lamps on the floor, "Got blood over here...and the body." Following the trail of blood his helmet lamps illuminated a slumped corpse of an older man in work overalls. A gash in his neck being the likely death wound.
"A blade did this." stated Jakob matter of fact.
"So perhaps a murderer is on the loose?" added Lewis nervously.
Sebastian glanced up at Lewis, "A murderer killed five hundred people?"
John walked by, "We don't know if everyone is dead. Come on. We gotta get to the main control room. Can access station power and cameras there."
The group fell in, more alert now, weapons raised as they made their way through the warehouse. Passing a few more corpses with telltale slash wounds on their bodies. Reaching the double doors, they pried the doors open and walked in. Reaching a lift John indicated for Anthony and Lewis to stay here. "Watch our exit. Only radio incase of emergency." Both men nodded inside their helmets. The other six loaded into the lift and allowed it to rise six levels before the back opened up into a large central hallway. Here, red emergency lights flickered.
Stepping out first, rifle raised, was Sebastian, followed by the rest of the troupe. To the left was a cafeteria, windows splattered in blood with dozens of bodies littering over tables, the floor, and slumped on chairs. As if some wild melee of madness had claimed their lives. Maria almost vomited in her helmet and only the reassuring hand of Jakob allowed her to swallow it back down. The sextet reached the end with MAIN CONTROL stenciled in black above the hatch door. John pressed the panel stud to open the door, evidently emergency power was still on in this level, and the hatch slid open. The bodies of the main control centers staff were sprawled about.
"They got everyone," said John as he stopped by the form of an older man with graying hair. STATION CHIEF was stenciled above his name on his work overall.
"They?" responded Sebastian.
Maria looked out among the wide windows of the control center and paused as she looked down at the hangar scaffolding. "What ship is that?"
The word ship caused everyone to freeze in their tracks. Huddling around Maria the group looked down and saw a sleep craft, black, red, and gold, with backswept wings and motifs of a sha around the nose of the craft. Large enough to be a gunship and hold a crew of up to forty.
"Setites."
"Christ." said Sebastian and this time no one stopped them.
"Well, where are they?"
"We got Death Cultists? Why would the Polytheists attack us."
"Setites are often extremists. Why they're often fought by other god aligned forces to curb their extremist violence."
John branched off from the group and began running his fingers over a keyboard. Bringing up a video footage and log. The station had had communications with a freighter transiting from Neptune's moons to Mars. A day later the gunship had arrived, ignoring hails, and had merely docked without warning. John switched off the footage before he saw what he knew would be displayed. The futile struggle of the station's inhabitants against much better equipped and trained militants.
"We got to go. Lockdown Station 2. Run silent. Make everyone think home is abandoned," rattled off Jakob and Sebastian agreed.
The radio chimed with the voice of Anthony, "Someone just opened a hatch in the next compartment. Should we check it out?"
Sebastian, practically yelled into his helmet mic, "Get on the lift now!"
No response, the lift back down the hallway illuminated as someone activated it. Sebastian reflexively knelt down by the doorway to the main control center with his rifle at his shoulder. The lift opened and out stepped Anthony and Lewis. "What's going on," said Lewis with confusion.
"Lock the lift."
"What?"
"Lock the fucking lift!" Sebastian had not even finished his response when the lift doors closed and began to descend again. The rune for it being called lighting up.
"Whats goi-."
"Setites!"
Lewis and Anthony looked at each other and then sprinted away from the lift. John swept past Sebastian and towards a side hatch to some recreation rooms. "Come on, we'll get around them and make for the air lock. We know the terrain out there we can lose them."
"They have a bloody gunship!"
"Not if they think we're still IN this station."
The group sprang into action. Rushing through the side hatch which John tore out the control wiring for as he went through. Jamming the door closed. The group moved rapidly down the hall and took a sharp left and then a right. Going through a side maintenance hatch they arrived at a ladder that led down. "Six levels down, go, go, go." John gestured them through one at a time. Each person grabbing the ladder and beginning to slide down with the practiced precision of people that had grown up on such stations.
Sliding down first was Sebastian who immediately took up position, checking corners, he moved forth with everyone following in more or less single file behind him. Traversing the corridor until they came to the warehouse and then the air lock. Everyone broke into their fastest pace once they hit the moon dirt. Making for home.
~~~
Station 2, Control Room
"There they are," said a slender woman in blue overalls as she pointed out the window of the control rooms observation windows. The much smaller Station 2 still had the squat appearance of its larger brethren. Complete with the top-level control suite to overlook the station. The rest of the four control room staff got up from their stations to see eight figures coming toward them.
"Lockdown the station," came the voice of John over the control room communications terminal.
A man, Jasper stenciled on his breast lapel, moved back and knelt by the terminal speaker, "Come again, John?"
"Lock. Down. The. Station. Jasper."
"John, what's going on. We received an emergency message from Station 1 a few minutes ag---."
"Do not respond to that message!"
"John, all we sent was an all-clear and asked if they need assistance."
"Jasper you fucking killed us all!"
The sextet was at the airlock by now and filing inside when a proximity LIDAR ping sounded. Drifting into view over the moon's horizon, kicking up a cloud of dust, was a black-red-gold gunship.
"Oh, Lord," was all Jasper could say before a beam of red-white light from the gunships prow railgun caused the control room to detonate. The explosion only a split second as the oxygen in the room was pushed into the vacuum of space. Debris drifting like an expanding cloud in the weak moon gravity.
The gunship swept over and landed on top of the station. Armored figures dispersing with the distinctive sha mythological animal motif of Set on their armor and shape of their helmets.
~~~
Claire, one of the few young women on Station 2 not yet married or a mother, awoke from her bunk as the station shook. She let out a gasp of fright as her room door slid open and there was Maria, her older sister, and a man named Jakob. They grabbed her by the hand and hauled her into the hallway. People running and screaming towards the lifts leading into the mines.
"What is happening?!"
"We're under attack," replied an exasperated Maria.
"Under attack?"
"Setites."
Claire clutched something in her pocket and began a silent prayer. Gunfire erupted somewhere in the station but close enough to be heard.
The trio entered a main hall with ten others racing for a singular hatch. Several dropped with their backs peppered by hypersonic rounds from an armored figure coming from the hatch on the other end of the hallway. The armored figure suddenly flew back and crashed onto the ground. Behind them Sebastian and Lewis had come and were opening fire onto the armored figure and whatever was beyond the hatch it had come from. Lewis suddenly dropped with plume of red erupting from his skull. Sebastian pulled him to the side by his torso straps. Firing non-stop.
"Sebastian come on!"
"Go!" came the response. Jakob and Maria huddled onto the awaiting lift with various others. The doors closing to the sound of gunfire above. Descending into the depths of the moon. All the while, Claire continued her prayer.
~~~
"It's been ten hours. No one has come down here?" said Jakob amid the people huddled in the bunker like shelter deep in the moon. An old emergency shelter for miners long converted to the resident's usage. Near their own small hydroponic farms.
It was dark, only handheld lamps illuminated the space; it was the three of them. Maria, Jakob, and Claire. The others who had gone down with them had moved to other compartments and sealed themselves inside.
Claire kept muttering her prayer and it was then that Jakob noticed she was clutching something in her pocket. Something unnerved him and he approached rapidly, "Jakob!" He pushed aside Maria who tried to intercept and forced a hand into the pocket against Claire's protests. Pulling out a small figurine in the shape of a turquoise woman.
"Blasphemer!" He smashed the figure on the ground.
Jakob grabbed Claire and hauled her, kicking and screaming, amid cries from Maria to the door of the shelter and opening it he shoved her out into the darkness of the hallway. Locking the shelter door behind her. Claire could only cry as she shuffled along on all fours. Searching for the walls and moving along to a door. Sliding it open manually she passed through the dark leaves of hydroponic racks until she came to a second door. Opening that she meandered down a pitch-black hallway purely by touch. Running her hand over a terminal she managed to luckily press a stud that illuminated a screen. Doors opened and lights lit up. The lift they had gone down earlier.
She blinked and for a moment though she saw a human with turquoise skin in the corner of the lift. She blinked again and nothing. Yet, looking around she was on the lift now. "No!" She tried to turn back but the doors closed behind her. The lift rising Claire sunk down and sobbed. Knowing death or worse awaited her beyond those doors once the lift arrived.
The lift chimed and the doors slid open to a light shown in her face. She held up a hand and something grabbed her. She screamed and was let go. Causing her to crash back to the ground. "You'll live girl. Relax."
She paused from her crying to look up at the figures above her. Several armored figures bearing panoplies forged in the shape of hawks. Horusians. Warriors of the Winged God of the Sky.
One of the Horusians turned his hawk like helmet with its golden visor to the side. Claire followed his look at a figure in an EVA suit that was aesthetically constructed to look distinctly egyptian. Helmet striped like a head dress in blue and gold. Visor the color of turqoise. Holding a staff bearing the symbols of Hathor. "This the adherent, Priestess?"
The Priestess knelt down to Claire, "Yes, fear not young lady. Our Goddess heard your prayers and has sent you aid."
"The Setites."
One of the Horusians spoke a single word, "Gone."
Earth, February 13th, 2375
Just North of Alexandria, Egypt
Great fanfare and waters clustered with ships around the magnificence of a city just across from the old city of Alexandria. Hanging gardens, gleaming pearly white citadels, towers domed in gold and jewels. Crystal clear pools and smooth marble streets. The Holy City of Ishtar. City of the Goddess of Love. Was preparing one of its most important annual festivals. The Festival of Love, celebrated on February 14th of each year since the return of the Old Gods.
Even now pilgrims flocked the streets and only matched in number by those seeking more secular revelries. Throngs of ships both maritime and those with shuttles descending from orbit came hourly, by the minute even. Packing the city as statues of various Gods were put on display. Painted in their traditional colors. Streamers filled the air and fireworks filled the night sky in the lead up to one of the most auspicious days of a Major God. A day often considered the "Birthday of Love," such an event was none the less as important as any of the other holidays associated with Major Gods. Indeed, such events often attracted displays of other Gods and their own adherents. Clergy and adherents of other Gods joined in the festivities while shrines to Minor associated Gods filled annexes and niches. Their own smaller congregations taking part. Such as the Goddess of Dance and Joy.
While in the primary residence of Hathor, the Dendera Palace, with its porcelain white pillars gilded with mosaics of gold, silver, and studded with jewels. Painted frescoes of flowers, plant life, and imagery of animals and life abounded. There, the Turqoise Lady watched the day and night revelry in silence. She heard their prayers, some louder than others, some clearer and more honest than others, the latter were the ones she cared enough to possibly answer.
Various other Gods would be present for such an annual event. The Goddess of Dance no doubt, the Sea, even her brethren Caedes were rumored to have made the journey, but he had not made his presence known yet. She glanced up and wondered if her father, Ra, was watching from on High. Beyond the doors of Night and the circles of the solar system. If he ever spared a moments glance at the happenings of the creation, he partook in creating.
