The Account of a Lifetime

February 29, 2012

The Burning Skies

Filed under: Salamanders,Writing — xisor @ 3:26 pm

Korsi waited in the corridor. A door loomed barely a foot in front of him. The corridor was quiet, the ship sounds themselves only a distant murmur of a far-away crowd, a highway busy in the middle-distance. Imperial & Nocturnian iconography, variations on eagles, skulls and lizards, monstrous and majestic in equal measure, decorated this wing of the Fulcrum. Broadly speaking, it was a well kept ship. The hull-most compartments fell to disarray in place, but on a starship boasting ten thousand crewmen, Korsi heard it said his lord valued pragmatic efficiency first and foremost – sometimes deck plates simply went unwashed for days, or decades.

The corridor itself was one of several concessions to affectation aboard ship. Almost everything was well made, the forge-ships supplying the fleet were proud and stern in their overseeing of technomats, of whom  very least could barely allow themselves to turn in a half-arsed job. Well made, but hardly adorned with more than functional affection would allow.

Three weeks aboard, but this was the first case he would meet his lord. His peers had largely kept their own counsel. The shift crew barely needed direction. Life docked above Prometheus was particularly calm and particularly boring.

The pressure seals around the door hissed. Sweat immediately beaded beneath his collar, not just from anxiety. Scorching air gusted down the corridor, a wave-front of sweltering heat.

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