Cath

The Cradle

“Agreed, Marae. Everyone should get another check up, even if they didn’t go into the Cradle last night.” Freyr slurped her coffee, sitting on an unoccupied edge of the big middle table. “I felt very peculiar after coming out. Did you feel the same, Dr Wetherall?” The old man shrugged from behind Freyr, on the other side of the table. He was attacking a bowl of ramen with particular gusto. “About the same, I suppose. A bit tired. Achy.”

“Ok. Do we have any facilities on hand right now?”

“There’s a med-clinic on the floor below, I think.” Dr Dlamini offered.

“That could work. Did we manage to bring any of our own scanner gear with us?”

“No clue. We leave in rush - these boys in black packed everything strangely.” Dr Apalkov boomed, motioning to one of the two OCI operators currently guarding the door.

Freyr looked at the lead Rothians assembled nearby. “What do you think Rareth could get a hold of?” She instinctively looked around for the Agent, who would’ve been staring daggers at the mention of Rothian aid. But she wasn’t here. Freyr didn’t know whether to feel elated or worried by that.

Marooned - Survival roleplay on a hostile alien planet

Very interested in this! Stunning choice of imagery too. Are you after any types of characters in particular?

The Cradle

Freyr blushed slightly, and laughed nervously. “Yes, I'm not sure what came over me. At any rate, I'm feeling better now. Thank you.” She stuffed in another mouthful of pastry and washed it down with the pink juice. “Good idea. I should address the team… Where do we meet?”

“There’s a leisure and shopping floor three below us. Skopec had us set up a temporary hub there.” Masgard jumped in. “Excellent. Let's head there now.” Freyr wiggled herself out of bed, suddenly energised. She declined her lab coat when Xandrus offered it, electing instead to wrap some of her breakfast in a napkin and shove it in the pocket of her trousers. She took one last drink then looked at Vreta. “See you down there. Lets go, Masgard dear.”

Most accommodation blocks in Réunion were self-sufficient, and run by a machine intelligence. This one didn’t seem any different, though the OCI appear to have muzzled the AI from doing anything other than the basics. Nonetheless, it welcomed them onto a large arcade level, filled with venues for entertainment and nourishment. All staffed by machines, naturally. Freyr waved to a gaggle of her team who were having a meeting at the sushi bar. Soldiers guarded every door.

One of the venues was a conference hall, which was already littered with portable consoles and other paraphernalia snatched from the Vault. Scientists of both species were pouring over holos or talking to each other. Freyr spotted Vreta near the entrance.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” Freyr announced upon walking in and strolling to the coffee machine. Most people stopped what they were doing. She surveyed the room as her hot drink poured. “I’m relieved to see everyone here in one piece. Including you, Dr Girard.” Freyr smiled at the researcher who’d taken a nasty knock inside the simulation.

“How is everyone holding up? A lot has happened.” She asked.

The Cradle

“That’s very kind, thank you.” Freyr smiled groggily, taking the tray from Masgard and laying it on her lap over the covers. It was laden with pastries and fruit, as well as the long pink drink. She grasped the glass and raised it delicately to her lips. “How long was I out? Is everyone safe?”

“About thirteen hours, once you were on the transport. Everyone is alright, as far as i can tell.”

“Yikes. I only meant to snatch a few minutes.”

Her implant registered a call from Vreta’Sori. “Ah, sorry. One second.” Freyr accepted the call and put it onto the holo-constellation suspended from the bedroom ceiling. “Vreta, you’re on speaker. How are you?” She found she was hungry, and popped one end of a croissant in her mouth.

The Cradle

“Daddy, Do you see that? Open your eyes.”
“Don’t look at it baby. Don’t look at the lights. They aren’t real.
“It's Mummy!! Mummy help us!”
…
“Freyr!”

---

Freyr woke with a start, plastered in sweat despite the air conditioning. She grabbed at the cosy blanket over her and jerked upright, completely disoriented. Brushing hair out of her face, she took in the sumptuous double bedroom. In front of her was a big walk in shower, and to her left was a closed door. The wall to her right was entirely composed of glass, and after rolling up the blinds Freyr put a hand up to shield from the bright afternoon sunshine. Eventually the windows adjusted to dampen the light, and she finally remembered where she was.

Réunion unfolded like an intricate origami figure below her. Three stepping stones down to the azure blue lake, adorned with elegant arcologies, hydro-dams and decadent tropical parks. Mist and clouds floated about the mountain peaks on either side of the city and the opposite side of the lake. She made out brightly coloured sails from the multitude of yachts racing out on the mirror-calm waters. Freyr felt her heartbeat return to normal, and sighed. She’d always meant to bring Amy here. She’d visited once on department business and knew straight away her little girl would’ve loved the water.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Freyr called, maneuvering her legs off the side of the bed. She was fully clothed except for her shoes and jacket.

There was a click outside, footsteps and then another click, and then another click. The door to her left open a crack. “Everyone decent in here?” A familiar voice asked.

“Yes. Come on in.”

Masgard Xandrus’ handsome bearded face appeared around the door and smiled. His freshly suited body followed, along with a tray of food and a glass of pink juice. “I tried to remember the last time you ate something, and couldn’t. So i brought you breakfast, or should i say dinner?” Xandrus chuckled, approaching the bed.

The Cradle

The Facilitator stared soberly up at Rareth - an eyebrow twitched. He mopped his sweaty brow with the cloth again. “I’ll see what I can do. A friendly word of advice though: you should get your people off-world before things turn really ugly. This isn’t even close to being over, believe me.” He pointed at the TV. The picture showed Group Admiral Hale, who they’d met at a previous conference, addressing a cloud of journo-drones via secure uplink.

“-bring the perpetrators to justice. Please allow our law enforcement and civilian services agencies do their work, and remain in your-”

The Facilitator brought the hardline up to his ear again. “Go for the Vault…Code please…Confirmed. I’ll send them up - make sure you’re ready.” He put the phone down and called loudly into the room. “CRD, Rothian delegates, pack your things! You’re heading out in FIVE minutes! Sergeant Skopec, assemble your team. You’re going up with them.”

---

Freyr would’ve argued harder to remain in the Vault, where they could make a real difference, if she’d been able. But she felt too groggy after her sleep to put up much of a fight. A headache split her right down the middle, so the most she could do was hold back the endless waves of nausea and stay close to Dr Wetherall as they scrambled to evacuate the Vault. A coterie of anonymous technicians filed in to take up posts left by her team.

“Come, my dear. Let's go and get you some fresh air.” Dr Wetherall soothed, offering an arm for support as they left the control room. She looked back one last time at the picture of the Cradle hanging in the air, the Navigator spinning slower around it. She hoped it wouldn’t be the last time she could lay eyes on it.

---

The ride up to the surface was somehow even more tense than the journey down. The camp outside the Vault was buzzing with activity, with all manner of vehicle speeding about. Black-clad soldiers were everywhere, scanning CraSec forces and loading them into troop transports. Freyr started when she thought she saw 595 in the throng as they drove through, but it was just a man wearing very similar armour. He was standing in the middle of a melee of soldiers and giving orders, pistol drawn and tapping impatiently at his thigh.

The rail system out of the Vault complex and up towards the surface was jam packed with soldiers and civilian personnel. Freyr realised at that point that her team was no longer the most important piece of the puzzle. She exchanged a concerned look with Vreta, who seemed to always be hovering nearby.

---

At least fifty heavily armed operators, led by Sergeant Skopec, surrounded them on their way through Babel Tower to their exfil pad. It was a couple of hours before dawn now, and the wind bit at Freyr as they finally arrived in an open-air hangar where four armoured transports waited. The front and back vehicles were already full, so they all piled into the third one and they took off almost before everyone had strapped into a jumpseat. Through the open (but shielded) doors at the back, Freyr just about made out a cloud of drones following them into the air.

They banked out of the hangar in tight formation. Freyr caught a glimpse of black smoke from the Parliament estate billowing into the night air, against a backdrop of Outremer’s moon. Many of the city’s lights were still on, presumably with people unable to sleep after recent events.

She felt no such issue anymore. Despite the bitter cold in the transport, sleep tugged at her like a comforting blanket. Her eyelids drooped as she crossed her arms and leaned her head against Dr Wetherall’s shoulder. “Wake me when you need me.” She slurred, as everything went black.

END OF PART ONE

Halo: Aegis Team

Tar slowly edged her Spectre forward into the cave, careful not to disturb the vines on either side. The tunnel ahead narrowed quickly, so she proceeded in front only until a person could just about squeeze past either wing, then stopped and powered down the vehicle. The canopy hummed open and she clambered out, leaving her carbine in its holster. “We’re alive.” she reassured Yalu.

Tar walked a few paces further into the cave, until she was nearly swallowed by the darkness. She then silently unhooked one of the blades from her back and turned it on. An eerie red glow threw long shadows on the walls, exposing thick vine trunks that dug into rivulets on the floor, walls and ceiling. There were pink flowers even here, despite the lack of sunlight.

She gently moved her sword closer to one of the vines on the wall, and with a distant sound like bloody innards slopping from a stomach wound onto the floor, some of the flowers turned to face her. “This Tengmaa is awake. Do not touch the vines. It may try to constrict us.” Tar growled softly, looking around to see if any of the other boughs were moving.

The Cradle

“I don’t know, i-...” Freyr stared into the opposite corner of the room, trying to remember. She saw the ‘O’ of Osman’s mouth as she shouted “good….luck” through her clear visor in their direction. She blinked out a tear when the thought of those infected people baying for live blood.

Freyr remembered their walk through the flickering lights of the underground garage, and the ride through the subway under New Antioch. A shiver ran down her spine when she recalled their horrifying encounter with those bugs, and that massive amalgam in the park!

Freyr bit her thumbnail, still looking into space. She couldn’t remember much about GCHQ, except that it led to her meeting the Navigator. 595 was just snatches of conversation in her recent memory.

“She said she had to go for a while. Maybe that’s what she did.”

Freyr exhaled deeply, her whole body juddering with the stress. She looked over at the Facilitator. “Have you heard from Dr Wetherall? Is he alright?” The Facilitator nodded. “He’s safe at the Bridge, keeping the link active as planned.” He resumed tapping at his pad, standing in the middle of everything. Lights blinked on the map of NA and countless sounds dribbled into Freyr’s ears. She nodded gravely.

Hours passed. Despite everything, Freyr fell deeply asleep in her chair. Someone put a small cushion behind her head. David & Amy came to her in a dream, the fine details of their faces blurred and abstract.

Eventually, the battle map calmed down. The few remaining CraSec guards on duty inside the Vault were replaced by black-clad soldiers with ‘OCI’ freshly emblazoned on their chest plates. More high-ranking military personnel filtered in and out of the complex. At some point, Dr Wetherall wobbled from the harness room and plonked into a chair next to Freyr, his age-lined face pale and drawn. He sent for a cover, and carefully arranged it over his leader’s body. He then gratefully accepted a nice cup of tea.

The Facilitator took another phone call, then he motioned for Rareth to come over. “Top side is clear. You can take your team out. My orders are to move the CRD to Réunion while we check Vault integrity.” He talked quietly.

The Cradle

Freyr nodded appreciatively at what Rareth was saying. She slumped into a spare swivel chair, utterly exhausted. “I’m not holding up very well, I’m afraid.” She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Everything is moving so fast. At this rate I'll need to start Glanding.” Any citizen on Outremer with a bit of money to spend could have custom drug glands installed in their bodies. These allowed owners to secrete on command any of a wide selection of synthetic drugs, from the merely relaxing to the mind-altering. Freyr had considered it in university, but never had enough funds. That wasn’t an issue anymore, though.

“How about you?” She asked, still cradling her datapad.

After a little while, the Facilitator finished his call with the Cabinet Office. “Alright, thank you. Call here once you know more. Bye.” He hung up the phone and wiped the sweat off his bald pate. He turned to an aide. “Turn the news on, up there.” He pointed to one of the big screens up front.

“DEWINTER RESIGNS. MARTIAL LAW DECLARED.” read the tape along the bottom. Images of cars arriving and leaving the Parliament estate played on screen. There were police and military everywhere. “Who needs enemies when you can do all this on your own?” The Facilitator murmured, crossing his arms and watching the screen.

Halo: Aegis Team

Tar responded quickly to the orders, banking her Spectre to match where her finger was pointing. The right side of her vehicle clipped a tall tree where she’d under-compensated for the wind. Her Spectre swung the opposite way, towards Yalu’s craft that had turned off earlier.

Tar yanked on the controls and they peeled away from each other after a light bump on opposite wings. She activated the boost and her Spectre whooshed up the side of the basin towards the caves. The underside of her vehicle clattered against the forest floor, drawing a few horrendous scraping sounds which reverberated up into Tar's legs. The wind plastered wet leaves, mud and small animals to the hull as she drifted around another tree with spiky purple leaves. “We’re close; up here!”

Eventually, the basin wall levelled out onto a small ridge. In the middle, two black cave entrances, surrounded by lighter rock, hunched against the storm. The same dark green vines Tar had seen down in the basin evidently originated from these caves, as they crept across the rock, nestled into natural grooves. The tendrils were thick and fewer, which indicated to Tar that this was an older specimen. Still alive and dangerous though, as shown by the small pink flowers dotting the vines.

She’d alert the others once they’d parked - no sense in complicating things. “Let's shelter inside!” Tar recommended, moving her Spectre towards one of the dark cave entrances.