Ambrosia Garden Archive
    • The Derilect


      A short story

      Sorry I wasn't more creative with the name, I was bored the other day, and decided to write this. reply and tell me what you think or give me suggestions.
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      Micah gripped his gun wordlessly. He kept himself from panicking, because he knew it would take up too much air. Instead, he breathed slowly like he had been trained to do. He scanned his surroundings for the hundredth time.The dimly lit room shown only the brilliance of the stars from the window, and the scattered adornments from what he suspected was the captain’s cabin. A couple of loosely scattered money chips, some blankets, two swords (one above the door, the other fallen from its place on the ground in the airlock), a broken bed, and even some paper and a pencil beside the fallen desk.
      He walked over to the window, precariously stepping over the items on the ground. He looked out it, the uninhabited, crater filled planet below, a nebulai in the distance, a couple of asteroids, and the stars. It was ironic, he thought, that the stars had been a source of such great delight for him when he was younger. Now, they were going to be his death.
      Micah was on a ship hired to go explore the universe in search of new star systems, and confirm some discoveries a couple of years back. When his ship attempted to board a derilect in search of survivors, their energy core had melted down, and as he was the one exploring the derilect, the ship had left him. He had attempted to radio them, but he could only get short clipped messages from them. He assumed everything was ok, they should be back in a few days after they stopped at a repair post a couple of systems back. He hoped he could last that long.

      It was the second day of his captivity in the iron prison. He had slept on the ground, finding the mattress to the bed to rough to sleep on. He sweat profusely as the temperature in the cabin rose to above 90 degrees farenheit. It was midday from what he could tell, so soon enough the temperature would be falling. He gripped his gun carefully and went over to inspect the entrance to his prison.
      The oxygen in the cabin was limited, and if he could access the rest of the ship, that would help. Rubble had buried him in the cabin, and for all he knew, the ship might have sent some others into the ship. If he could find companionship aboard the ship, or find some other souls that might even be survivors from the first wreck, that would help. Of course, alot of things would help him in his current position right now. He focused his concentration on the rubble.
      They were pieces of cement, which told him that the energy core to the ship was somewhere near. That scared him, the cement was probably oozing with radiation, but then again, he thought, there was no glow, and this ship had been out of production for almost half a century. If there was no large amount of radiation, the ship had probably gotten a new type of energy core.
      He thought about it as he set his gun down to work his way through the rubble. Probably a fusion reactor. He nodded, he was almost sure of it. That was strange though, because the first efficient fusion reactors had come out a mere decade ago, and this ship looked to be over the better part of a century old. Micah stopped to scratch his head in curiousity and get a breath of air. The derilect was harboring some secrets he’d like to know.
      He noticed the air was much thinner. He was using up dangerously large amounts of oxygen doing this. He took a minute to control his heart beat, knowing that if he got it too high, he would use way too much air. He continued removing the pieces of cement. Suddenly a current of fresh air hit his face, he had broken through!
      He frantically scraped away enough of the rock so that he could get through. After spending a day and night and another half of a day in the putrid dungeon, he was sweating severely. Finally he picked up his gun and fired a charge or two into the pile. A shower of cement rained out outwards, and after putting everything of worth in the room into his pockets, he climbed out of it.
      Micah picked his way to the bottom of the hill, and scurried along the wall. He checked his gun to make sure it was loaded, and began to explore. It was complete darkness here, and sure enough the energy core section of the ship had been blown through. Micah guessed that it was due to the meltdown of the energy core on his ship.
      Luckily enough, a metal sheet covered the hole outwards, so the air stayed within the ship. He didn’t even test it, and pointed his gun to the ground. He slumped down, hot and sweaty. His combat armor hadn’t helped much, as it was getting hot. He took out his comm unit, “Micah to Eagle Ridge. Do you read me?”
      Static.
      “Micah to Eagle Ridge!!! Do you read me?!!!”
      Static.
      “Micah to Eagle Ridge!!! Do you read me?!!!
      Static.
      His eyes got wide. He was alone, it was dark, he was hungry, they were dead. He took out a cracker or two from his small baggie, and chewed them as he tried to think it over calmly. However, he began to go mad. He looked around nervously, and frantically pulled himself up, taking his gun with him everywhere. He walked down the lonely hall, refusing to go into any rooms. If he heard so much as a sound he would turn around and point his gun everywhere at once.
      Well, how long he walked, he knew not. His sticky hands grasped the gun tightly, and his hair got drenched. Suddenly, a green light went on behind him and distinctively beeped. He turned around and nervously shot a shot. The door closed tightly! Flourescant lights blinked on. He must have walked into some kind of closet. They were trapping him, he knew it. They were playing a joke on him. “Okay guys, very funny.”
      Silence.
      “Guys?”
      Silence.
      “Guys!!!”
      Silence. His eyes got wide again, and he began to breathe frantically. He was trapped in a room. He could feel the air thinning by the second, he tried to slow down his heart rate, but to little avail. He walked over to the door, and banged on it. Nothing. The chamber he was in was little bigger than an elevator, and as he sat down and panicked, he began using up air. Well...seconds turned into minutes, and minutes hours, and hours days, for all he knew. He would calm down, only to get in a fright again that he was soon to die.
      He tried firing his gun several times at the door, but it did nothing but char the door. He would panick, and calm down. fall asleep, and wake up in a panic. This endless cycle seemed like it went on for days. His sweat vaporized across the chamber, and a small cloud appeared above his head. It began to get hot, too hot for him.
      He fired another shot at the door, this time it rikoched off the door and went into the flourescant light, shattering the glass. The green light beeped a couple of times, but then went out to. He was all alone, in total darkness. He fired at all the walls, and the only thing that happened was that a window opened from unseen hinges. He looked out it, there...there was his old ship. There they were, those who abandoned him. The ship was obviously destroyed. He began to panick, knowing his companions were out there, perhaps dead. Suddenly, the lights all went out, and he blacked out.

      “Look at this old ship.” the junior officer said as the two docked. “There’s another one in the system.” His officer nodded. “Just go scout out the ship, radio back when you’re sure it’s safe.” He nodded. Once he got into the ship, he checked the oxygen levels. “That’s good.” he said, taking off his helmet and setting it down on the ground, promising himself he’d come back for it before he radioed the ship back. His Senior officer would be furious he was not taking correct security precautions. As he explored the hall ways, debris was everywhere.
      “Looks like the energy core malfunctioned.” he turned around, walking down a long hallway. He got to the end and knocked on it. There was a whushing sound of air compressing, and the door opened. And there, at his feet, was a dead soldier. He backed off with a whelp, and began to radio in, when an explosion rocked the derilect...

      This post has been edited by Charon : 05 July 2005 - 12:49 PM

    • "He sweat profusely as the temperature in the cabin rose to 70 degrees farenheit."

      You do realize that's perfect temperature. Or else everyone in California would be sweating like pigs.

    • good point, ill change that

    • Nice storey, mayby if you make a full sized storey you could get it published or sell the storey to Ambrosia. Have fun

    • Nice story, mayby if you make a full sized story you could get it published or sell the story to Ambrosia. Use this story as part of the whole story, just fix the temperature lol.

    • Nice story, mayby if you make a full sized story you could get it published or sell the story to Ambrosia. Use this story as part of the whole story, just fix the temperature lol.

    • Sorry about 3 posts it was an accident

    • oh and in space its more likely to get cold then to warm up.

    • fang_X, on Jul 7 2005, 07:21 PM, said:

      oh and in space its more likely to get cold then to warm up.
      View Post

      Actually, no. For something to get cold, heat has to be able to travel through another substance away from the first thing, in this case, the ship. Light and radiation energy from the system's star is constantly being changed into heat as it hits the ship, yet there is no substance through which to let the heat escape, thereby raising the temperature.

      Charon: You're story is good,... But it needs some editing: spelling, grammar, and a few technicalities, but I won't go into it.

    • Yea i agree with you, but the author never said it was near a star. the ship would find a orbiting course around one of the larger bodies, yes perhaps a sun. But it takes along time to find its orbit. The ship would only warm up if it came too close to a sun, and if it was drifting that would take a long time. The change would be very slow.

    • Interesting bit of story...i think he panicked to fast, unless he's claustrophobic.

      Cheers,
      Guapo