Curtis
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Posted - 2003.07.20 22:07:00 -
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Information on the progress of the Jovian War was tightly restricted, of course; but word had seeped out among CurtisÆs fellow Church Initiates on Amarr that hostilities were not going well. Enemy ships seemed to be roaming freely through Imperial space, killing and destroying at will. Curtis had had to repeat the Litany of Submission four times to quell his fears as he had boarded the giant Bestower-class vessel that would carry him and four thousand other Initiates to the Theology Council monastery at Penirgman. By the fourth jump out, Curtis was repeating the Litany a fifth time. ôOh Lord, preserve us from the demons of the darkness û ö Initiate CurtisÆs murmured prayer was interrupted by the terrifying screech of weapons fire striking the shipÆs shields. The Canon-Instructor standing at the front altar was visible in minute detail in the giant holographic images evenly spaced along the hold. He stood motionless, his arms raised in the Invocation, eyes flickering and mouth foaming in a religious ecstasy û a perfect example of religious submission in times when faith is tested. Sadly, many of the Initiates had already fallen short of his example; many of them were looking round desperately, trying to summon the courage to break ranks and run. Curtis gulped, breathed deeply, and returned to his prayer. ô û And bring us safely to the bright shore of Your mercy û ö The prayer was drowned out by a deafening rumble. Curtis realised the shields must have buckled, and the shipÆs armour was bearing the brunt of the Jovian fire. There were screams. Suddenly, the lights and holographs flickered, and blinked out. ôThis is the Captain speaking,ö grated a voice over the speakers. ôOur structural integrity is down to 30%. Follow the emergency lights to the cargo canisters û theyÆre pressurised and should be able to survive the destruction of the ship. God help us all.ö Curtis ran for the exits. He ran until, lungs burning, he reached the ejection chamber. He clambered through a hatch, down a ladder, and into a chamber already nearly full of terrified men. Curtis felt a sickening lurch, and realised the canister must have been launched into space. His feet left the floor, and there was a loud bang. ** Darkness; then bright lights. Strange figures, grey-yellow skin through which veins showed prominently. Pain û then more pain. ôWhere am I? What are you doing to me?ö ** Bright light. Curtis tried to sit upright, but straps across his chest and waist held him down. ôWhere am I?ö he rasped, his mouth dry. ôRelax,ö said a disembodied voice. A long Ni-Kunni face came into view above Curtis. ôYouÆre at a Royal Amarr Institute station.ö ôWhat û howàö Curtis looked around and realised he was in some kind of hospital ward. ôThe convoy was destroyed by the Jovians,ö said the Ni-Kunni doctor. ôAn Imperial cruiser picked you up from a cargo-box in the 2P-4LS system û some outfit called the Kusari Corporationàö ôHow long was I out there?ö asked Curtis. The Ni-Kunni took a deep breath. ô125 years.ö Curtis closed his eyes. ôThe Jovian War ended inà stalemate,ö said the doctor. Curtis well knew what that meant; the Empire could never be said to suffer a defeat. ôBut this will all be covered in your ideological debriefing. Just rest up.ö ôHow many others from my convoy survived?ö asked Curtis. ôWell û none of you,ö said the Ni-Kunni, sounding surprised. Curtis arched an eyebrow at the Ni-Kunni. Sometimes he wished one could still take a painstick to them. ôI mean, youÆre only a clone û you canÆt really claim to have æsurvivedÆ.ö ôWhat do you mean, a clone?ö asked Curtis in a hollow voice. The Ni-KunniÆs jaw dropped. ôYou mean you didnÆt know? Oh, no û and you were a Religious Initiate as wellàö Thou shalt not suffer thy flesh to be remade, for no man can remake the soul; and the flesh without soul is an abomination. The Third Commandment of CurtisÆs Order, the Order of St Janiel. His old Order, he realised bitterly. ** ôGood luck out there, Cadet,ö said the Ni-Kunni. In debriefing, Curtis had learned how the hospitalÆs scans had discovered that his brain connections were those of someone aged 27, but his flesh could not be more than about six months old. He had no idea what the Jovians had done to him, or why they had returned him alone to Amarr space, but û one day û he intended to find out. ôThanks,ö Curtis smiled. He turned and snapped his fingers at the hospital slave-porter to take up his case. The shuttle for the Imperial Naval Academy at Chaven left in half an hour, and he didn't want to miss his first day.
Edited by: Curtis on 20/07/2003 22:18:28 |