∞ 00 00 ∞
[in contrast to his father, Orion is deadly silent as he charges down the hall. he's not weighed down by a bulky spacesuit, so he's gaining, his Sphere following steadily behind. he witnesses his father accessing a hidden room and hurrying inside.
he follows.
the darkness bothers him] Lights!
[dutifully, stark white lights snap on, revealing a large, barren room. it is deserted, with nary a scrap of machinery or debris. sterile, in a way. probably with good reason. the central chamber is dominated by a single structure.
it has to be twenty feet tall from base to tip, two pillars of silvery metal, dotted and layered with innumerable webs of circuitry, rising out of a solid onyx base. each pillar is nearly as wide as a man is tall, but both are paper thin, possibly only microns thick. they seem almost insubstantial, held up straight by some unseen force so that they start to tilt halfway up their length, forming a gentle curve as they meet at the top.
strung between them has to be thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of microscopic strands, barely visible to the naked eye. each one is vibrating, humming with power, and the ripples their vibrations form change the air between them from clear to a shimmering, shiny black. the strands twist in a cascading, circular pattern, curling around in a perfect spiral. the nearer to the center of the spiral, the deeper, more intense the black.
at the very center it is completely opaque and filled with what look like stars.
Orion has to stop and stare, eyes wide, breath stalled in his chest. it's obvious that he has never seen this before. he's speechless, frozen.
the captain is behind him. in his hand is a knife. a simple, ordinary knife.
the captain roars something completely incoherent, eyes almost rolling in his head. he charges Orion just as the younger man turns, shock and rage in his expression.
their struggle is brief. the captain is old, weak, half-mad. Orion tears the weapon out of his father's grip, knocking his father away from him with furious savagery. Ganymede falls, crumpling in a heap in front of the iridescent netting between the pillars. Orion is still for a few seconds, panting from exertion, from rage. his expression contorts, betrayal and guilt and hurt and helpless, angry despair twisting his face into a shattered mask, barely a flicker of his normal composure remaining.
he begins to stalk towards his father, one heavy, resolute step at a time]
he follows.
the darkness bothers him] Lights!
[dutifully, stark white lights snap on, revealing a large, barren room. it is deserted, with nary a scrap of machinery or debris. sterile, in a way. probably with good reason. the central chamber is dominated by a single structure.
it has to be twenty feet tall from base to tip, two pillars of silvery metal, dotted and layered with innumerable webs of circuitry, rising out of a solid onyx base. each pillar is nearly as wide as a man is tall, but both are paper thin, possibly only microns thick. they seem almost insubstantial, held up straight by some unseen force so that they start to tilt halfway up their length, forming a gentle curve as they meet at the top.
strung between them has to be thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of microscopic strands, barely visible to the naked eye. each one is vibrating, humming with power, and the ripples their vibrations form change the air between them from clear to a shimmering, shiny black. the strands twist in a cascading, circular pattern, curling around in a perfect spiral. the nearer to the center of the spiral, the deeper, more intense the black.
at the very center it is completely opaque and filled with what look like stars.
Orion has to stop and stare, eyes wide, breath stalled in his chest. it's obvious that he has never seen this before. he's speechless, frozen.
the captain is behind him. in his hand is a knife. a simple, ordinary knife.
the captain roars something completely incoherent, eyes almost rolling in his head. he charges Orion just as the younger man turns, shock and rage in his expression.
their struggle is brief. the captain is old, weak, half-mad. Orion tears the weapon out of his father's grip, knocking his father away from him with furious savagery. Ganymede falls, crumpling in a heap in front of the iridescent netting between the pillars. Orion is still for a few seconds, panting from exertion, from rage. his expression contorts, betrayal and guilt and hurt and helpless, angry despair twisting his face into a shattered mask, barely a flicker of his normal composure remaining.
he begins to stalk towards his father, one heavy, resolute step at a time]