Eye of God: Dive ONE.
Title: Eye of God
Chapter: One
Author: pax_morgana
Rating: PG-13 - R
Notes: Coma is a PMSing bitch. Justsayin'. Also, I abuse italics. Like it or lump it.
Chapter Links: ZERO | ONE (you are here)
Eye of God
Dive ONE
The U.E.S. Utopia wasn't actively recruiting when Halo signed on as a crew-member. In fact, he hadn't really intended to sign on at all; the captain practically dragged him aboard and insisted. "We're unexpectedly shorthanded," the captain told him by way of reasoning. He'd been on Confederacy vessels before, but the Utopia was a Godlink flagship - all of her crewmen had full immersion access, and her navigator was an Eye. Halo was looking forward to meeting him, in particular.
"Welcome aboard the United Earth Ship Utopia. I'm your captain, Cradle," said the man who'd pulled him on board. He was a tall, wiry Hispanic man with closely shorn black hair and several tattoos and link-ports along his arms. He tugged Halo along by the elbow through the corridors, nodding at several crewmen, who nodded back and didn't seem to notice the new addition to their ranks. "We're getting ready to shove off, so you'll excuse the crew if they don't seem particularly accommodating. I'm sure you'll fit right in, though. You've immersed before."
"Yes, sir," Halo replied, straightening a little, "I used to lead the dive team on the Demeter before she…well." He tapered off; Cradle patted his shoulder in understanding.
"That was a tragedy. There were many good men on the Demeter. Thankfully, not all of them were lost." The captain smiled, and Halo felt the urge to smile back. "Come now, I'll take you to the bridge. You can meet the rest of the main dive team."
"Aye, captain."
The bridge was, surprisingly, almost deserted. Halo had expected a lot more activity on a flagship, but the only men on-deck were a dart-eyed, bald-headed man of maybe thirty, and a younger man in a wheelchair who sat at the navigation panel. The latter didn't seem to be aware of their presence, but the former approached them immediately, eying Halo warily.
"Cap'n, whoziss?" he asked, jerking his head in Halo's direction. Halo fidgeted nervously under the bald man's gaze. He decided that he didn't care for this man at all, and hoped that they wouldn't have to work together much. Something told him that the opposite would be true, if Cradle thought it important that they meet in person.
"This is Halo, the newest member of the crew. He was head of the dive team on the U.E.S. Demeter before she was taken down. Halo, this is Phoenix, First Mate of the Utopia. That man over there is Coma. He's our navigator, and your bunkmate for now." At this, Coma seemed to return to the moment: he removed his navigator's headset and maneuvered his wheelchair around to face the rest of them. His face, angular and nearly as pretty as a girl's, was twisted into a scowl of disbelief.
"What did you say, Cradle?" he half-demanded. Cradle didn't seem so surprised at the disrespectful outburst. He merely shrugged and repeated himself.
"Halo is going to be rooming with you for the time being. His recruitment was sudden; there wasn't time to find him other quarters. I'll try my best to move him as soon as possible, but please put up with it for now." Coma's expression didn't change, but he turned his glare from Cradle to Halo, who pursed his lips apologetically. He didn't know why the navigator seemed to hate him already; he hadn't done anything. After what seemed like a long time, Coma wheeled back around and replaced his headset without another word.
"Sorry that wasn't a very warm welcome. We recently lost a member of the main team, and everyone's still a little sensitive," explained Cradle, making no attempt to whisper or otherwise hide what he was saying. Out of the corner of his eye, Halo saw Coma flinch. His hands froze over the navigation panel for a split second, then went back to their work. So far, life on the Utopia was chalking up to be a whole different experience than that of the Demeter. Halo hoped that he was up for it - this wasn't an opportunity he could afford to waste, however eccentric his comrades seemed.
Two hours later, the Utopia shoved off from its dock. The whole of the ship vibrated as the anti-gravitational dampeners were taken off and the vessel lurched into gear. Most Confederacy ships operated in relatively low airspace, but a flagship occupied the highest space allowed by law - Halo had never experienced such an altitude before, and was both excited and anxious. He sat on the top bunk in the room he was sharing with Coma (alone at the moment, thank goodness), waiting for Cradle to process his crewmanship and assign him a post. The sky was becoming pink with twilight, even so high up in the sky. He saw the clouds all around them through the small window by his headboard. It was beautiful, and helped to calm his buzzing mind. He thought about home, about his parents and the triplets; he wondered how they were holding up. The last time he'd seen them, before the "sinking" of the Demeter, they were on the verge of eviction from their tiny apartment - the reason he'd become a diver in the first place. The pay was good, and he was able to send most of the money back home.
His thoughts had nearly lulled him to sleep, until the audible click of the door opening startled him into awareness. Half-expecting Cradle with his assignment, he was surprised to see that it was Coma - then the surprise faded, and he felt stupid; of course it was Coma. They were bunkmates. The navigator wheeled himself over to the bunk-bed and hefted himself bodily from his chair onto the bottom mattress. The motion was practiced, even fluid, for something so inherently awkward. Halo glanced over the edge of the top bunk and watched as Coma began to undress. It was rude to gawk, he knew, but he was intrigued - despite the rude welcome he'd received earlier on the bridge.
"Are you done staring?" Coma's tone was no less irritated as earlier, and Halo flushed to his ears. The navigator didn't pause, unlacing his heavy boots and removing them and his socks at once. He then peeled off his shirt, revealing even more link-ports than Cradle or Phoenix, lining his arms and his collarbone. They also made a neat row that followed the curve of his spine. Halo winced at the thought of how much it must have hurt to get them all installed. Coma exhaled sharply, muttering just loudly enough for Halo to hear, "Guess not."
"O-oh. Uh, sorry. It's just that I, uh, have never met an Eye before. You are an Eye, right? I mean, why else would you have so many ports?" The navigator made another impatient sound, and one of his arms (they were quite long, Halo noticed) shot up to grip the frame of the upper bunk. Twisting, he pulled himself up, gripping with his other hand as if he were doing chin-ups, and heaved himself up onto Halo's mattress. His legs dangled over the edge, pale and clearly useless. The new crew-member's eyes became wide as saucers - he'd never expected such a skinny man, and wheelchair-bound to boot, to have such impressive upper-body strength.
Coma held Halo's gaze intensely, and Halo saw that the navigator had the most startlingly clear blue eyes he'd ever seen. The left even had a ring of silver around the pupil - the telltale sign of an Eye. "What do you know about the Eyes of God?" Coma whispered, stunning Halo into silence for a long while. His hair, white-blonde and just past shoulder-length, was loose now (earlier, it had been tied back into a ponytail) and framed his soft features quite attractively. The only things that broke what would have been a painfully lovely face were the perturbed set of his mouth and those eyes.
"Er. Uh. Not-not much," Halo replied sheepishly, suddenly self-conscious as to the direction his thoughts had turned, "Ju-just what you hear on the streets." Coma rolled his eyes and sat back, putting his weight on his hands; he kept his eyes trained on the newbie.
"Of course. Most of that is bullshit. Lies. People act like the Eyes are some kind of heroes, like we're superhuman or something. The reality is that we're the most vulnerable. The weakest link in the chain, so to speak, yet we have one of the greatest responsibilities of any member of a dive-team, save the captain. How old were you when you were drafted?" Here, Halo floundered again; the tone of Coma's voice spoke of pain, of revulsion. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, but he didn't want to lie, either - he got the feeling that Coma would catch him in a lie outright.
"I wasn't drafted," he said at length, sheepishly, "I signed up on my own. My family needed the money. What about you?" The navigator's lips thinned, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Fourteen," he answered as he tucked a lock of pale hair behind his ear. Halo was sure that his jaw dropped somewhere to the vicinity of his ankles.
"Fourteen? But the legal draft age is -"
"Seventeen, I know. For Eyes, it's different. We're drafted and trained as soon as the silver settles in our eyes. For me, it was fourteen. I've known some Eyes who were drafted as young as ten years old. We don't have a choice in the matter," he explained bitterly; Halo wondered why Coma was telling him these things. Was his ignorance that offensive? "The things people say about us, they say because they don't know. If an Eye goes down, the team goes down. People get hurt. People die. Maybe someone you care about, and what can you do to stop it? Nothing."
Halo hesitated again, and he was barely audible when he inquired, "The one Cradle mentioned...?"
"That," Coma snapped, suddenly annoyed again, "Is none of your business. No matter what Cradle says, you're not a replacement, so don't get it into your head to act like one." With that, and much more slowly than he'd climbed up, the navigator lowered himself back down to his bunk before Halo could question him further.
Chapter: One
Author: pax_morgana
Rating: PG-13 - R
Notes: Coma is a PMSing bitch. Justsayin'. Also, I abuse italics. Like it or lump it.
Chapter Links: ZERO | ONE (you are here)
Eye of God
Dive ONE
The U.E.S. Utopia wasn't actively recruiting when Halo signed on as a crew-member. In fact, he hadn't really intended to sign on at all; the captain practically dragged him aboard and insisted. "We're unexpectedly shorthanded," the captain told him by way of reasoning. He'd been on Confederacy vessels before, but the Utopia was a Godlink flagship - all of her crewmen had full immersion access, and her navigator was an Eye. Halo was looking forward to meeting him, in particular.
"Welcome aboard the United Earth Ship Utopia. I'm your captain, Cradle," said the man who'd pulled him on board. He was a tall, wiry Hispanic man with closely shorn black hair and several tattoos and link-ports along his arms. He tugged Halo along by the elbow through the corridors, nodding at several crewmen, who nodded back and didn't seem to notice the new addition to their ranks. "We're getting ready to shove off, so you'll excuse the crew if they don't seem particularly accommodating. I'm sure you'll fit right in, though. You've immersed before."
"Yes, sir," Halo replied, straightening a little, "I used to lead the dive team on the Demeter before she…well." He tapered off; Cradle patted his shoulder in understanding.
"That was a tragedy. There were many good men on the Demeter. Thankfully, not all of them were lost." The captain smiled, and Halo felt the urge to smile back. "Come now, I'll take you to the bridge. You can meet the rest of the main dive team."
"Aye, captain."
The bridge was, surprisingly, almost deserted. Halo had expected a lot more activity on a flagship, but the only men on-deck were a dart-eyed, bald-headed man of maybe thirty, and a younger man in a wheelchair who sat at the navigation panel. The latter didn't seem to be aware of their presence, but the former approached them immediately, eying Halo warily.
"Cap'n, whoziss?" he asked, jerking his head in Halo's direction. Halo fidgeted nervously under the bald man's gaze. He decided that he didn't care for this man at all, and hoped that they wouldn't have to work together much. Something told him that the opposite would be true, if Cradle thought it important that they meet in person.
"This is Halo, the newest member of the crew. He was head of the dive team on the U.E.S. Demeter before she was taken down. Halo, this is Phoenix, First Mate of the Utopia. That man over there is Coma. He's our navigator, and your bunkmate for now." At this, Coma seemed to return to the moment: he removed his navigator's headset and maneuvered his wheelchair around to face the rest of them. His face, angular and nearly as pretty as a girl's, was twisted into a scowl of disbelief.
"What did you say, Cradle?" he half-demanded. Cradle didn't seem so surprised at the disrespectful outburst. He merely shrugged and repeated himself.
"Halo is going to be rooming with you for the time being. His recruitment was sudden; there wasn't time to find him other quarters. I'll try my best to move him as soon as possible, but please put up with it for now." Coma's expression didn't change, but he turned his glare from Cradle to Halo, who pursed his lips apologetically. He didn't know why the navigator seemed to hate him already; he hadn't done anything. After what seemed like a long time, Coma wheeled back around and replaced his headset without another word.
"Sorry that wasn't a very warm welcome. We recently lost a member of the main team, and everyone's still a little sensitive," explained Cradle, making no attempt to whisper or otherwise hide what he was saying. Out of the corner of his eye, Halo saw Coma flinch. His hands froze over the navigation panel for a split second, then went back to their work. So far, life on the Utopia was chalking up to be a whole different experience than that of the Demeter. Halo hoped that he was up for it - this wasn't an opportunity he could afford to waste, however eccentric his comrades seemed.
Two hours later, the Utopia shoved off from its dock. The whole of the ship vibrated as the anti-gravitational dampeners were taken off and the vessel lurched into gear. Most Confederacy ships operated in relatively low airspace, but a flagship occupied the highest space allowed by law - Halo had never experienced such an altitude before, and was both excited and anxious. He sat on the top bunk in the room he was sharing with Coma (alone at the moment, thank goodness), waiting for Cradle to process his crewmanship and assign him a post. The sky was becoming pink with twilight, even so high up in the sky. He saw the clouds all around them through the small window by his headboard. It was beautiful, and helped to calm his buzzing mind. He thought about home, about his parents and the triplets; he wondered how they were holding up. The last time he'd seen them, before the "sinking" of the Demeter, they were on the verge of eviction from their tiny apartment - the reason he'd become a diver in the first place. The pay was good, and he was able to send most of the money back home.
His thoughts had nearly lulled him to sleep, until the audible click of the door opening startled him into awareness. Half-expecting Cradle with his assignment, he was surprised to see that it was Coma - then the surprise faded, and he felt stupid; of course it was Coma. They were bunkmates. The navigator wheeled himself over to the bunk-bed and hefted himself bodily from his chair onto the bottom mattress. The motion was practiced, even fluid, for something so inherently awkward. Halo glanced over the edge of the top bunk and watched as Coma began to undress. It was rude to gawk, he knew, but he was intrigued - despite the rude welcome he'd received earlier on the bridge.
"Are you done staring?" Coma's tone was no less irritated as earlier, and Halo flushed to his ears. The navigator didn't pause, unlacing his heavy boots and removing them and his socks at once. He then peeled off his shirt, revealing even more link-ports than Cradle or Phoenix, lining his arms and his collarbone. They also made a neat row that followed the curve of his spine. Halo winced at the thought of how much it must have hurt to get them all installed. Coma exhaled sharply, muttering just loudly enough for Halo to hear, "Guess not."
"O-oh. Uh, sorry. It's just that I, uh, have never met an Eye before. You are an Eye, right? I mean, why else would you have so many ports?" The navigator made another impatient sound, and one of his arms (they were quite long, Halo noticed) shot up to grip the frame of the upper bunk. Twisting, he pulled himself up, gripping with his other hand as if he were doing chin-ups, and heaved himself up onto Halo's mattress. His legs dangled over the edge, pale and clearly useless. The new crew-member's eyes became wide as saucers - he'd never expected such a skinny man, and wheelchair-bound to boot, to have such impressive upper-body strength.
Coma held Halo's gaze intensely, and Halo saw that the navigator had the most startlingly clear blue eyes he'd ever seen. The left even had a ring of silver around the pupil - the telltale sign of an Eye. "What do you know about the Eyes of God?" Coma whispered, stunning Halo into silence for a long while. His hair, white-blonde and just past shoulder-length, was loose now (earlier, it had been tied back into a ponytail) and framed his soft features quite attractively. The only things that broke what would have been a painfully lovely face were the perturbed set of his mouth and those eyes.
"Er. Uh. Not-not much," Halo replied sheepishly, suddenly self-conscious as to the direction his thoughts had turned, "Ju-just what you hear on the streets." Coma rolled his eyes and sat back, putting his weight on his hands; he kept his eyes trained on the newbie.
"Of course. Most of that is bullshit. Lies. People act like the Eyes are some kind of heroes, like we're superhuman or something. The reality is that we're the most vulnerable. The weakest link in the chain, so to speak, yet we have one of the greatest responsibilities of any member of a dive-team, save the captain. How old were you when you were drafted?" Here, Halo floundered again; the tone of Coma's voice spoke of pain, of revulsion. He didn't want to say the wrong thing, but he didn't want to lie, either - he got the feeling that Coma would catch him in a lie outright.
"I wasn't drafted," he said at length, sheepishly, "I signed up on my own. My family needed the money. What about you?" The navigator's lips thinned, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Fourteen," he answered as he tucked a lock of pale hair behind his ear. Halo was sure that his jaw dropped somewhere to the vicinity of his ankles.
"Fourteen? But the legal draft age is -"
"Seventeen, I know. For Eyes, it's different. We're drafted and trained as soon as the silver settles in our eyes. For me, it was fourteen. I've known some Eyes who were drafted as young as ten years old. We don't have a choice in the matter," he explained bitterly; Halo wondered why Coma was telling him these things. Was his ignorance that offensive? "The things people say about us, they say because they don't know. If an Eye goes down, the team goes down. People get hurt. People die. Maybe someone you care about, and what can you do to stop it? Nothing."
Halo hesitated again, and he was barely audible when he inquired, "The one Cradle mentioned...?"
"That," Coma snapped, suddenly annoyed again, "Is none of your business. No matter what Cradle says, you're not a replacement, so don't get it into your head to act like one." With that, and much more slowly than he'd climbed up, the navigator lowered himself back down to his bunk before Halo could question him further.