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Posted By: gnollslayer Feb 24, 2005 - 12:10 am

Well, if you're still with me from part one, thanks. I know this is a long thing to read on a computer, and for all I know it could be terribly boring to someone other than me. Well, here's the rest.

*********************************************

"What's happening, sir?" Devon asked.

"A short while ago our sensors detected a vessel-sized object ahead. I'm having First Lieutenant Meyer bring us within visual range. If this is a Confederate ship, I'll need you to identify it and record all transmissions with the vessel for your logs. It's time to make use of your historical knowledge, Ensign Carter."

Devon didn't dare move a muscle until Captain Holden looked away. Even then, he breathed slowly and took care not to let his shoulders slump. He shifted to the right a little to peer at Sarah's flight console. She danced her fingers across the controls, moving them with subtle precision to keep the Ardent on its delicate path. Devon stood still, entranced by the ease with which she commanded the clumsy vessel. His eyes strayed upward from the console to the systems readout and his heart faltered.

"Sir, she's flying manual while the--"

"--while the ship's still in hyperdrive," Captain Holden finished. "It is no concern of yours, Ensign Carter. You do your job and she'll do hers."

Devon looked out the viewport, straining to see beyond the photon haze that streamed past the Ardent's bow.

"Sir, we are approaching the unidentified vessel," Sarah didn't turn her head as she spoke. "Should Alex attempt to hail them?"

"Yes, I'll send word." The captain tapped his headset. "Ensign Mironov, raise a communications link."

Devon overheard a muffled reply through the captain's headphones, but he couldn't make out the words.

"Sir, we're getting close, turn off the sensors," Sarah's eyes flickered a little, focusing on something far in the distance. "I'm going in on visuals."

"Are you sure about this?" Devon asked.

"I've never done it before," said Sarah, "But it's the only way we can dock. That ship's going too fast for our sub-light engines, and the safety mechanisms on the sensors won't let the docking arm deploy with the drive engaged."

Captain Holden's headset crackled with Alex's voice. "Sir, I can't get the ship to respond. Either something's jamming my signal or they don't want to talk."

The Ardent shuddered. Devon had to hold onto the dash to keep from falling. Captain Holden dropped his headset.

"We've passed through the first photon wake, sir. I'm preparing to bring us alongside," Sarah's eyes remained fixed ahead.

The frigate filled the viewport, cruising through the haze of hyperspace in a misty cloud with hyperdrive manifolds swaying from the stern. Cables hung freely from these masts like the rigging of an ancient sailing ship. Devon had seen craft like this before, if only in pictures. The Confederacy had used such frigates to transport supplies to their mining colonies.

"You two should strap in before I deploy the docking arm," said Sarah.

Devon sat down beside her and pulled his harness over his head. After checking the buckles twice, he leaned back. The straps retracted until they fit snugly around his chest. Captain Holden took his place in the only other vacant chair, pulled his harness over his shoulders, and stared straight ahead. He calmly folded his arms on his lap.

Outside the viewport, a glowing halo melted from the sides of the foreign vessel; photons shimmered away from the hurtling ship in a phenomenon grander than even the brightest display of aurora borealis. The Ardent trembled as it passed through the wave of light. Devon tightened his grip on the armrests of his chair.

"I don't know if I can do this," Sarah said. Her hands trembled on the controls.

"It's your call," said Captain Holden.

Sarah nodded, then, in a fraction of a heartbeat, she twisted a knob on the control panel and the docking arm deployed. The Ardent lurched, throwing Devon against his harness. Sparks showered around the tip of the docking arm as it scraped into place on the other ship. The sparks stopped and Sarah punched the arm calibrator. Devon's stomach churned as he watched the arm bend. Sarah threw another switch and the rumbling stopped. The Ardent's velocity synchronized with the frigate, and Sarah leaned back in her seat.

"I did it," she sighed. And then a smile crept onto her face. "I did it! Nobody's attempted anything like that before, not even my father."

Devon smiled too, but not for the same reason. He'd caught a glimpse of Captain Holden, and the man was pale as a ghost.

"Well done, First Lieutenant," the Captain said shakily. He regained composure as he stood up. "Ensign Carter, now it's your turn to prove yourself. Get me an ID on that ship."

"Sir, that may take a while. More than a thousand ships left Earth during Gershom's Rebellion, and not all of them had identification callsig--"

"Just identify it, Ensign."

"Yes, sir." Devon undid his harness and pulled his datapad out of his pocket. He stood up and stared out the starboard viewport.

The ship on the other side of the docking arm stretched at least three times the length of the Ardent. From its unwieldy size and shape, Devon assumed that the Confederates had built it in space, but it looked old enough and in bad enough repair that it may have originated in the solar system.

A cross-reference of his visual logs confirmed this last conjecture. According to his datapad, construction on the frigate NC130F-9601 began at Lunar Orbital Construction Yards in the year 2103, just one year before Gershom and his followers invaded American territory. Its owner, the grandson of a late twentieth century software tycoon, commissioned the project as a safety net in case the rebellion spread too far. He and his family were killed during the Battle of Albany, and the ship's contractor claimed possession of the vessel.

Staring at the frigate, Devon wondered what other blood stained the ship's history. Why hadn't the crew answered them over comm-link? And if they wanted to avoid contact, why hadn't they broken the Ardent's docking sequence? He feared he already knew the answer.

"It was made just over seven-hundred years ago, sir. I can't imagine the Confederates keeping a ship in service for that long."

"Nor can I, Ensign Carter. I'll want you and Ensign Mironov to go aboard and see if you can find out why this ship is still out here in hyperspace without a crew. You think you can do that?"

"Yes, sir." Devon felt a surge of excitement. He was going to be the first Earth man in seven centuries to set foot aboard a Confederate vessel.

Alex Mironov met him in the briefing room before the entrance to the docking arm. The engineer seemed less enthusiastic to leave the Ardent.

"So, you ready?" Devon asked as Alex pulled on the helmet of his silver haz-mat suit.

"I'm not so sure. I'm afraid of what we might find in there." Two generations in North America had suppressed the Russian accent in the Mironov family, but at times Devon could still hear it in Alex's voice.

"Yeah, I'm nervous too," said Devon, "But more excited. This is the first real proof we have that the Confederates are still out here. For me, it means the mission is a success." He put his helmet on and latched it to the collar of his chem-suit. He pressed the comm-link button on his sleeve. "Got me?"

Alex gave him the thumbs up sign before answering, "Okay Devon, I set Colin up with a direct line to my personal comm-link. He's going to monitor the readings from our suits. If anything goes wrong, he'll tell us and we'll return to the Ardent. We have Captain Holden's permission to begin."

They stepped into the docking arm and the airlock sealed behind them. For a long time nothing happened.

"Is it going to open?" Devon asked.

"Colin says the airlock has power, but there's some sort of encrypted password," Alex explained. "He's working on the code; he should have it open in a minute."

A hiss filled the air as NC130F-9601's airlock opened.

"And there you go," said Alex. "Go ahead, let's take a look."

Devon stepped through the portal. His helmet's infrared display flared to life as he walked into the darkness. He took the first step up the dingy corridor, and when he was sure it was safe he beckoned for Alex to follow.

"I don't like the looks of this place," said the engineer. "It reminds me of too many horror movies."

Devon looked back over his shoulder. "Relax. You were the one who said the scanners didn't pick up any signs of life."

"I'm not too scared, just anxious to get out of here."

"To tell the truth, I'm a little afraid too, but I'm not gonna let it get in my way. We're making history here. People will remember our names hundreds of years from now."

"If anything happens, I won't care much what the history books say about me."

Devon slowed down. His breath was starting to cloud his visor and the hallway ahead was too dark to see. He flicked a switch on the side of his helmet and the headlamp flared to life. Its narrow beam revealed the floor and walls in bright detail. They bore no sign of struggle.

"It's almost like the ship's crew left it out here on purpose," said Alex. "It doesn't even look like time has touched it."

"No," said Devon. "It doesn't."

They passed through an open door into a wider corridor that led to the bow. The light of Devon's headlamp cast long shadows along the ceiling where webs of wire coursed and crossed. The thickest bundle ran straight to the front of the ship; it continued through a hole above the door to the bridge, and disappeared into the tiled ceiling on the other side.

Devon went first through the door, his headlamp illuminating the steel floor and reflecting up to the walls and front viewports. The flight console at the bow was not altogether different from the Ardent's, but the rest of the room attested to the great power of Confederate engineering. Every room, every system on the ship could be run from this room. Vacant swivel chairs rested before the stations on the port and starboard walls, the screens at the terminals showed only darkness. The whole haunted room seemed to long for the presence of its masters.

"There's a light blinking there," said Alex, and he pointed to the command terminal in the room's center. He went forward and crouched before the ancient captain's chair to examine the front panel.

"It's an old recording system," he said. "For logs. Somebody left a message open when they abandoned the ship."

"Can you bring it up?"

Alex looked at Devon and smirked. "Do you even know me?"

His fingers scurried across the keypad at the front of the station and a the long dormant screen crackled to life. It was CRT technology, obsolete at least a century before the dawn of Gershom's Revolution. The builders of the ship must have been hard pressed for materials in the late years of the war.

As the screen brightened, a framed box came onto the screen, with icons at the bottom, presumably for navigation. A man's face showed in the center of the frame, caught mid-speech by the camera. The aft portion of the bridge showed behind him.

Alex pressed his finger to the screen over the top of the play button, but nothing happened. He slumped into the captain's chair and pressed a button on the front panel of the computer. A small tray ejected with a pad and stylus. Alex dragged the pen across the tray and tapped it twice. The movie began to play.

For six minutes and thirty-eight seconds both men remained silent, their attention locked on the screen. When the clip finished Devon reached down to his sleeve and pressed his comm-link.

"Sir, you'd better take a look at this."


Captain Trent Holden left Sarah in charge of the Ardent's bridge. He donned a haz-mat suit as protocol required, and departed his ship through the starboard docking arm. Ensigns Carter and Mironov awaited him at the bow of the abandoned frigate. They wore subdued expressions on their faces.

"What's the situation, Ensigns?"

"Sir, the recording tells it better than either of us can," said Ensign Mironov. "You'd better sit down for this."

Captain Holden settled into the large chair. Ensign Mironov tapped the stylus on the pad, and the video began to play.

Age hadn't deteriorated the picture one bit; the frigate's bridge looked as clear on screen as it did in person. It was brighter though, lit by long fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling. People's voices floated through the speakers, and something rustled close to the microphone. A man stepped in front of the camera.

"It is our first day in space after many years spent on solid ground. Dr. Tremmel assured us before we left that the quarantine would be temporary, six months at the very most. We still don't know what caused the plague, but it's caused more damage than anyone thought possible. So many deaths, I can only thank God my own family made it off-planet. Many aboard cannot say the same."

Somebody jostled the camera and the man who had stood before the camera walked off the screen. The camera's microphone re-calibrated itself to listen in on his conversation.

"-- in the medical bay? Yes, I'll come right away."

The screen went black, but the video kept playing. Captain Holden rested his chin his hand and leaned closer to the screen.

The recording resumed in another part of the ship. The same man stood in the center of the screen. Moisture ran in tiny streams down his cheeks.

"I haven't been able to record for days… I've been busy, attending to the sick. My original assumptions have proven wrong on all counts." He paused. "My… many of my crew have fallen ill with the plague. It spread so fast. Only one world remains free of it. The quarantine has been reversed. Rather than zones to keep the sick in, they have guns to keep us out. I fear for our brethren on Athena; they too are dabbling in dangers that would be better left alone. They too are gambling with their lives."

He readjusted the camera, focusing on two rows of beds covered in sterile white. It was the infirmary. Attendants hurried from bed to bed, caring for the sick, but even these few already showed signs of affliction.

"Those you see standing are the only ones left who live. This is all Admiral Anstruther's fault. If he hadn't--"

A nurse approached the captain. "Sir, your wife. She is dying. It would be best if you were at her side."

The man looked up from the camera and his face tightened. When he looked back, his throat was too choked with tears for him to speak.

The screen blacked out again. When the image refocused, the man spoke from within a small hangar. The background chatter of the previous two logs had disappeared altogether, and two men behind him prepared a small ship for flight.

"This will be my last log. I hope that whoever finds it thinks well of me for what I am about to do. I have chosen to preserve a piece of history so that others might see what happened here. The ship will remain in accelerated orbit around the Delta Lyrae system, but it will do so unmanned. My crew and I have looked back on that which we once loved. Now we are prepared to die. Within an hour, we will embark on this small ship. We would have burned either way. Perhaps the fire of stars will be gentler to us…"

The video cut out and Ensign Mironov pressed pause before it could restart. Captain Holden stood up out of his chair. As if to speak, he opened his mouth, but he hesitated.

"Sir?" asked Ensign Carter.

"I'm sorry, Ensigns," the Captain replied, "Our mission has failed. Mironov, see if you can put that recording on a disc. We'll need to take it back to Earth to explain ourselves to our superiors."

"Yes, sir." Ensign Mironov knelt in front of the touchpad and stared up at the screen. As Captain Holden turned back to the Ardent, he heard a double tone from the workstation behind him, and a genderless voice came onto the frigate's loudspeaker.

"Please take your seats. The ship is about to drop from hyperspace. Please take your…"

Before Captain Holden had time to curse, he heard the familiar whir of a core spinning down, and echoes of metal rending itself against the outside of the hull where the Ardent's docking arm used to be. Then he was airborne.


Sarah heard the screech of metal at the same time a streak of light rippled across the Ardent's front viewport. Her response was automatic. In a single move, she lifted the glass panel that covered the hyperdrive disengage button and slid her hand in underneath. The manifold at the aft of the Ardent whirred down, and the ship jolted, throwing her against her harness. A crash reverberated from the lab at the base of the stairwell.

April! Sarah had forgotten to sound the alarm.

She waited until the ship's rumbling ceased and unbuckled her harness. Halfway down the stairs she heard men's footsteps.

"What just happened?!" Colin shouted.

"The frigate dropped out of hyperspace," she called ahead. "I didn't have time for a warning." She came around the corner at the bottom of the stairs and was greeted by a scowl.

"You could've killed us with your incompetence," Colin sneered.

Sarah drew back. Then, remembering an earlier lesson about officer conduct, drew herself together for a reprimand. "I will not tolerate such words from an inferior officer," she said. "Now help me assess the damage, starting with April in the lab."

He didn't say anything in defense, but eyed her like a rebuked cat. She brushed past him and went into the laboratory. Glass shards covered the floor on the far side of the room, and bloodied in the middle of them lie April. Her white smock was stained by her deep wounds, and she wasn't moving.

"Where's Chris?" Sarah shouted. "Get him in here quick!"

Colin hurried down the hall to the medical bay as Sarah went forward to examine the civilian scientist's injuries. Most of her external wounds were caused by the glass, but as Sarah held the woman's arm, she got the sense that something was wrong under the skin. Halfway up April's left forearm, there was a hard knob of bone, the surest sign of fracture.

"Let me take a look," Chris breathed as the stooped beside her. He brought a bandaging kit with him -- in space they couldn't use aerosol skin, it would inhibit the oxygen filtration system.

"It's definitely a fracture," he said, pushing April's sleeve back to the shoulder. "I'll need some help getting her back to the bay."

"I'll do it," said Colin, and he cast his gaze at Sarah. "You'd better get back up to the bridge and find out what in Gershom's name happened to the others on the frigate."

As much as Sarah disliked his tone, she knew the man was right. Half a second of hyperspace travel could put the other ship hundreds of astronomical miles behind the Ardent. She wondered if she'd even be able to find them again.

Leaving Chris and Colin to do their work, she went quickly to the flight console and brought up the sensor system. Another ship showed faintly on the monitor's edge, not too far away, but it would take an hour at least to reach it -- if it was even the same frigate.

She brought the ship around and locked it straight on course with the navigation tag following the blip on her screen. It was moving this direction, but slowly. The Ardent would meet it sooner than she'd thought.

Chris called up from the medical bay to tell her that April's condition was stable and they'd managed to stem the blood flow and set her bone. Relieved, Sarah sat back in her chair and let her arms fall to her side.

In her mind, she was already finding ways to blame herself for the accident; ways to take responsibility for breaking the Meyer family tradition of excellence. Her father never would've made this mistake. He was perfect, same his father before him. Same as all her family.

But she didn't resent them. Sitting here, in the farthest reach of space any person had visited for centuries, Sarah knew she should be grateful for the work of her predecessors. Without them she would never have been able to see the stars, not the way she'd wanted to all her life.

There was a bright one shining off the port side of the Ardent's viewport, and Sarah fancied she could make out dark spheres against its blazing light. Planets of the Confederate colonial network, for they were well within the boundaries of the old colonized systems by now. The Ardent banked a little in the direction of the round inferno, and Sarah smiled a little. Her current path would take her close enough to see the planets, if there were any around this system. It would set her almost one astronomical mile away from the bright G-class star. Livable distance for humans, the perfect place to build a colony. She settled back in her chair and waited, always looking out the viewport in hopes that she might glimpse an off-black shape against the starry backdrop.


The first thing Devon did after the ship stopped rumbling was check to see how the others had fared. Captain Holden had suffered a minor blow to the head when he'd hit the floor, but fretted more over the wrinkles in his jacket than the throbbing in his temples. Alex hadn't been hurt at all. There was only a smudge on the inside of his visor.

"What happened?" Devon asked.

"It's right there on the screen," said Alex, "Quarantine breach."

"How? This ship's been orbiting perfectly for who knows how many years, why would it stop now?"

"The Ardent docking must've thrown off the navigation system. The Confederates probably didn't design their ships with hyperspace collisions in mind."

"I think the more important point to ponder," Captain Holden interrupted, "Is what will happen to us now that we've violated the quarantine zone."

Devon and Alex agreed.

"Ensign Mironov, try to figure out how the communications system on this vessel works. According to the Ardent's architects, its systems were designed to be mostly compatible with known Confederate technology. If we can raise a link with First Lieutenant Meyer it will make it easier for her to find us."

"Do you think she's even in range, sir," Alex asked. "She couldn't have had more than half a second to drop out of hyperspace with us."

"If there's a soul in the galaxy that can do it, it's her."

As if on cue, a tone filtered through the aged speakers on the central workstation and Sarah's face shimmered onto the screen.

"Captain Holden? Thank God I found you. I'm approaching your position from thirty degrees off you bow to starboard, ten degrees pitch up. The Ardent's portside docking arm is still intact if you wish me to proceed with docking."

"Proceed," the captain commanded. "What is your status?"

"One casualty suffered during the drop. It's April, sir. Her condition is severe but stable. Chris sealed her external wounds already, and he set her arm. He's waiting for her to wake up before he proceeds further, but he's already given her the bone reconstruction enzymes. At worst she'll need to stay in a splint for the next few days, at best she could be fine by dinnertime."

"Did the ship suffer any structural damage?"

"The starboard docking arm was torn off, but the airlock sealed itself before too much interior damage was inflicted." She paused. "I'm getting pretty close now, I'm going to close the link while I dock."

A minute later, the three men felt the floor shake gently as the Ardent latched onto the frigate's airlock. Alex hadn't ever managed to load the captain's logs onto a disc, but he set them to broadcast so he could retrieve the data on one of the Ardent's computers. It was the first thing he did after returning to the ship.

Devon went with Captain Holden to the bridge. A breach of quarantine meant they were in the Athena system mentioned by the captain of the frigate. If any colony still existed, it would be nearby.

"As soon as Ensign Mironov finishes downloading the file, Lieutenant Meyer, I want you to disengage the connection with that frigate." Captain Holden sat down and pulled his harness across his chest. "There's a Confederate world orbiting this star, and we're going to find it."

Devon already had his doubts, what about the quarantine?

"Sir, we don't have far to look," she brought up the spatial positioning system, which showed the Ardent relative to the blazing sun and another object, closer and much larger. A planet.

"See sir," she said, and the tandem rotation of the Ardent and the frigate brought the stark rim of a blue and green sphere into the viewport. White clouds laced around the planet Athena, shrouding over land and ocean alike. But they were only wisps, and the majority of the planet's surface was clear to behold.

Devon gawked. It was more beautiful than he thought a planet could be; crystal blue in the shallow seas, lush green on land, with an obsidian streak across the eastern coast of the only visible continent. He imagined that not even Earth in its early days looked so perfect set against the velvet backdrop of the cosmos. Nothing could.

"Isn't it incredible?" said Sarah. "I saw it on my approach, and I couldn't believe my eyes."

"Ensign Carter, see what the ship's historical documents say about this world." The captain never lowered his eyes from the viewport.

Devon pulled his datapad out of his pocket and thumbed through the files on the Ardent's server. He remembered seeing an entry for the planet Athena in the Colonial Census of 2079. And there it was, halfway down the table of contents. He tapped the link and the page loaded instantly.

At first, Devon thought he might have clicked the wrong link. The picture was bleak and obviously showed another planet. He went back to the table and clicked again. The same picture of the lifeless orb came onto his screen again.

The caption underneath it said: Athena B, second planet in the Athena system. Distance from star: 0.967 astronomical miles, mass: 0.94 Earthweights. This was the same planet, there could be no doubt.

A passage underneath the image described the environment of the world: 'The planet Athena B was originally claimed by the RavenCorp for mining purposes. High quantities of gold, uranium, iron, and marble make it a desirable world; the harsh, acidic atmosphere and hostile surface terrain make it unlivable. When mining operations ultimately shut down on this world, it was purchased by Mr. David Nehr, who intends to use at as a testing ground for new technologies. Operations on Athena B are intended to begin early in the next decade, and be completed before the dawn of the twenty-second century.'

The resilient world outside the viewport didn't look like a testing ground, and it definitely wasn't hostile the way the Census described it. A planet couldn't alter itself so drastically in six centuries. The only explanation was Confederate intervention.

"Sir, take a look at this." Captain Holden reached across and took the datapad. His eyebrows creased together as he read the page.

"That can't be right," he said.

"It can, sir" Devon said, "And it's the surest proof we have that this world is colonized. Or was, before the plague."

Captain Holden opened his mouth to respond. Both men were so engulfed by their discovery that only Sarah noticed the ripple of energy tearing towards them from the approaching planet.

"Hold on to something!" she shouted. The shockwave hit them just as she disengaged the connection to the frigate.

"What was that?" Captain Holden asked. He shoved the datapad into Devon's open hand.

"Something from the planet, sir. Should I turn back?"

Captain Holden was about to say yes when a shimmer of electric luminescence streaked across the viewport and a bolt of white light seared into the Ardent's bow.

Ahead, the quarantine enforcement grid unfolded its weaponry. The satellites spun around each other, weaving a web of scorching light in the flight path of the Ardent. Devon braced himself for the first volley.

"Turn left!" Captain Holden shouted. "Left!"

Sarah leaned into the controls and threw the Ardent into a spin. The ship careened through the sizzling web unscathed. Already, the grid oriented itself for the next wave.

"Buckle those harnesses!"

A beam scorched the glass in front of them, but did not melt through. The ship rumbled as Sarah tried to turn away from the planet. The spiraling frigate blocked their way out.

Another array of satellites deployed farther out, trapping them in. White light impacted the frigate. Is hull glowed bright before detonating in an incendiary cloud of steel dust.

"Put up the shields!" Devon yelled.

Thunder erupted behind them as a beam tore into the top of the Ardent. The jolt tossed Devon against the ceiling, and for a moment, he lost consciousness. When he woke, he saw Sarah lying silent on the floor in front of the flight console. Captain Holden struggled to undo his harness, but the emergency systems had kicked in and the locking mechanism was frozen.

"You're going to have to get us out of here, Carter! Bring the Ardent around!"

Devon jumped into the pilot's seat and stared at the controls. He had never flown the Ardent, or any large ship, but he knew how to fly. He grabbed the two joysticks on either side of the panel and thrust them forward.

The ship dived, plummeting back toward the planet. Devon yanked the controls back to level the Ardent's flight path. Athena drew closer in the viewport, beams of fatal light sizzling against its atmosphere.

The atmosphere! That's it. If I can bring the Ardent under the atmosphere, it will shield us from the defense grid. Then I can use the planet's gravity as a sling to break out of the quarantine.

The ship lurched as he brought it into the upper atmosphere. Flames leapt around the Ardent's nose.

"Put up the shields!" Captain Holden shouted. "Get that air off the hull or you're going to cook us!"

Devon hit a handful of switches on the control board, hoping that one of them would bring the re-entry shields on-line. Smoke wisps rose ahead where beams of energy crackled and dissipated in the air. In a moment, he would be there…

The ship shook again and a deafening sound of rent metal crashed over Devon's ears. The rumbling subsided into a silence far worse. The Ardent's engine manifold was gone.

Devon had to bring the Ardent down. He had no runway, no engines, no experience with landing large craft, but he had to do it. He flipped a switch on the side of the console and the great fan of the Ardent's wingspan unfurled into the fiery wake. The flames closed in around him, but Devon would not give in without a fight.

#(scene break)

Shalondur stopped upon a hilltop, gazing out into the distance. Fire lit the sky, growing closer. The meteorite blazed overhead and then was gone; an omen of change. He picked up his horn and sounded a note of warning.