By the tolling of the Bell

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By the tolling of the Bell

Post by Elise Veicht on Wed Apr 08, 2015 11:25 pm

Through the darkness of the empyrean, a battlecruiser slid silently, its armoured prow cutting through the eternal night. Upon its battle scarred hull, two names were visible; one, Cassandra was scored through and nearly obliterated, whilst another, Erys, had been crudely stenciled beneath in harsh, angular lettering. And perhaps the desecration of the ship's old name was appropriate, for the spirit of the ship, and that of its crew, had also been defiled, its purpose twisted and perverted, transformed from something noble to something base and cruel. Gone was the Cassandra, battlecruiser of the UEG fleet and defender of humanity, and from its death throes had been born the Erys, hunter of the weak.

Aboard the battlecruiser, a slight, slender figure moved slowly through the labyrinthine corridors. Clad in the remnants of a uniform so heavily modified as to be almost a mockery of the garment it had once been, the figure was undeniably female, and she carried herself with an arrogant authority that was only echoed by the tarnished insignia of a Commander that had been stitched into her jacket. At first glance, there appeared no purpose to her meandering movements. Yet there was a reason for the path, for each apparently random choice; each corridor chosen bore a stain upon the wall or floor, a splatter of spilt fluids that had dried a dank blackish brown beneath the harsh crimson hued emergency lighting. Most such stains were passed with barely a glance, yet others, seemingly no different, earned a moment's pause, a thoughtful glance cast through the figure's single eye.

But never was the pause a long one; after but the beat of a heart, she would invariably move on, continuing down her convoluted path until, eventually, the doors of the bridge parted before her, offering a glimpse of the blackened, corrupted heart of the Erys. Or perhaps it was more the brain, and the reactor core was the heart - ah, now there was a thought worthy of consideration, and the woman paused a moment upon the very threshold of the bridge, before casting the thought aside as her mercurial mind moved on to other matters.

Upon the bridge, a handful of the crew glanced up as she entered. Most acknowledged her in some way; a nod, a word, even a smile for the bold or optimistic amongst them. None received a response, for the figure merely continued onto the bridge and dropped flung herself into the command chair, kicking her legs up over the arm even as she did.

"Cap'n on deck," a bare chested man with a week's stubble on his cheek and a scar running from chin to brow called to faint amusement from those about him.

"Keep it up and you'll eat the deck," came the response from the woman in the chair, though her voice lacked fire. In truth, her tone spoke volumes on boredom. Or perhaps not volumes, but an entire library. Who'd have thought she'd miss having Cermak looking over her should all the time?

Maybe she should have let him live. She'd have had to cut off his hands and feet, of course. And maybe his eyes, just to be sure. But she could've left his eyes and ears. Well, maybe. For a while, at least.

Ah well, at least he'd known at the end just how thoroughly she'd beaten him.

"We got anything out there?" Elise Veicht called out, her single crystal blue eye fixing upon the youth at the senor operator's terminal with all the intensity of a neutron star as the urge to hunt, to immerse herself in the chase and the kill, suddenly welled up once more.
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Elise Veicht

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Join date : 2015-03-29
Age : 30

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