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Contact Us:
General
Family Album
Holiday Diaries
Andy
Amateur Radio
Archery
Computing
Professional Details
Role Playing
Art Narrative (MGH)
Ken
Tom
Trudi
The words and artwork on this page have been prepared and created by Mark Hirst. Full information and additional examples of his work can be found on his website.
The origins of the narrative were inspired by a few of the early pictures and reminisences of our role playing college days. Now tempered by more recent science fiction offerings the orignal worlds of Marks Traveller™ creation see life some 20 or so years since we adventured there in this continuing storyline. The cycle is now complete as the storyline serves as an inspiration for the artwork which originally spawned the story.
You can figure out a lot in jail listenin' to the guards enough.
Felt the hyperjump nausea sittin' in my first cell so I knew we'd left Hycaron. Week later I was blindfolded and bundled into a shuttle. I figured we might be at Illaria or Candor, but when I heard that Illaria had been quarantined for months with some outbreak, figured us to be on Candor.
Didn't get much detail about Illaria, but it sounded pretty serious.
I was taken away just after that 'thing' left. Guards talked 'bout that a lot. They were pretty scared 'bout it, talked about how it lived underground, under a building. I figured we weren't there, 'cos they seemed pretty happy about bein' somewhere else.
They talked about Kleneptra too, wonderin' if they'd get blamed and all, wonderin' why they collected the body 'stead of leavin' it there like the 'thing' told 'em to. I listened good then, how the body was taken and hidden on a company shuttle. When I heard they'd taken her ship back with 'em, I figured they wanted her for some alien autopsy.
My cell weren't so bad. After Hycaron II, gettin' clean clothes, a haircut and a shower felt like heaven, mind you, orange stripes ain't my first choice in fashion.
Didn't realise we were so far underground 'till I saw Kleneptra's ship again. They shoved me through this door into a huge chamber. No way they got it in here 'cept downwards. Must've been an old mine I guess.
The ship was sat on makeshift supports, like an ol' jalopy on bricks. I see all these guys in suits runnin' around, 'puters an' sensors, doin' tests an' all, gettin' real excited 'bout somethin'.
This frak looks over his glasses at me and asks me how to open the ship. How the frak should I know you dumb frak. I tell 'im how there's blood on his hands, how they murdered a Lazloi to get this ship. I tell 'im he'd better hope the Lazloi don't find this place.
I get a smack in the face.
He tells me this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, blah, fraking blah. Tells me it's worth thousands of lives, talks about potential technology, billions of credits, big profits.
I tell him to go frak himself.
He asks some other questions but I don't know what the frak he's on about.
I tell him he should try askin' someone who gives a frak.
The guy had to go 'cos all the other suits were talking and shoutin' 'bout stuff so I get bundled out the room. Thought I saw the big man himself, but got another smack 'round the head for not gettin' a move on.
The food ain't so bad.
-- Elise Mackie, somewhere on Candor
For years I have had power and no choices, yet the course I am taking will leave me powerless, with every choice I could wish for.
I have made decisions in the past and escaped the consequences. I had the luxury of receiving reports second hand of the orders that eclipsed lives and changed others in terrible ways.
Sitting here with your sister, I am forced to witness first hand the cost of my collusion with forces I realise I did not understand, to see with my own eyes, the extent of my need for vengeance.
Certainty is a powerful thing, for when the objective is clear, you are willing to make any sacrifice, at any cost, to seize that goal.
That goal was revenge Alisandra, revenge for taking my heart and soul, revenge for making me believe there is love in this world.
Two months that seemed like an eternity, when you burned your love into my mind, a fire that left terrible scars. Two months when I believed I was the luckiest man alive, that love between a human and a Lazloi was possible.
Two months of deception.
You used me as breeding material, taking by deception what your sister Kleneptra seemed compelled to take by force. What else could I conclude when you disappeared without warning, telling me only that a wonderful thing had happened?
It was years later that I learned the truth about the Lazloi, and then, only from my new associates. I learned about how your race was fading, about the great flaw in your creation, a critical error by those that made you. Perhaps I understood then why you loved me.
In a curious way, I owe you Alisandra for the successes I have made in this life, for were it not for my need to harm you, I would not be the man I am now. That man however has become blind to what he has become. He is not a responsible wielder of power; he is no more than a servant, one who must obey, one without choices.
I took Kleneptra away from Hycaron II against the express orders of the Guardian, a deception that will soon prove hard to conceal.
It is time to make choices again.
-- Karl Wolmark, CEO of the Sansica Corporation.
Using a custom 800-ton hull, the blockade runner is designed to drop cargos and personnel on to interdicted and dangerous worlds. It has jump 3, maneuver 5 and power plant 7 with agility 5. Fuel tankage of 296 tons supports one jump-3 and four weeks maneuvering. Adjacent to the bridge is a model 7 computer. There are sixteen staterooms, eight of which are double occupancy. There are eight turrets installed with fire control, five mount sandcasters, three mount lasers. An air/raft and a 30-ton ships boat are carried. There is a 91 ton cargo bay, and the ship is streamlined with fuel purification facilities onboard. It has a needle configuration hull with factor-1 armor.
The ship has a crew of 20, pilot, navigator, medic, chief engineer, seven engineers, eight gunners and boat pilot. There is accomodation for four passengers. The ship costs MCr 724.751.
-- Note American spelling in the narrative is deliberate, to make it fit along side the 'official' designs!
The trip should have been quick, it should have been easy, and it should have made money.
The cheap merchandise was in low berth minding it's own business, but the live meat was getting restless, even with the regular threats of beatings and abuse.
We had been looking forward to a pleasant stop over at Telluride Station on the northern continent of Seven Sisters. It would be the last chance for dirt side recreation before the final hop to Gateway and the expanses of the Imperial Stars.
It was to be women, wine and more women, even for the Vargr like me. That part worked out just fine, and the miners at Telluride Station couldn't get enough of our latest batch. Meat was traded for the usual contraband and special cargo, and was surprisingly intact when they returned it. After a little cleaning, it would have been fit for sale at Acaphone just as we planned.
There was a catch, and it was a big one.
Starport Control at Seven Sisters was in chaos when we arrived. Ordinarily this was a good thing as it made our trip to Telluride even easier. It seemed that all traffic to Gateway had stopped, and ships and passengers were piling into the fast diminishing berths and hotels.
The reason for this disruption was a name that meant nothing to the stinking rabble aboard our ship.
Lazloi.
The rumours were that several ships had jumped into Gateway from nowhere and began to interdict the gas giant and its orbital starport. They were a design never seen before, but were obviously weapons of war.
They had casually announced that no ship would be permitted to leave the system without their permission. Ships eventually started to leave but very occasionally and without warning, the Lazloi ships would annihilate a hapless trader or transport into its constituent atoms.
Needless to say, ships stopped moving and now they will not go to Gateway at all. Imperial patrols are checking all outgoing ships and manifests regardless of destination. Since Gateway is the only route to the Imperium, it means that we are stuck here.
Meat has a limited shelf life, especially on this ship, and disposal brings too many questions. I need not remind you that the penalty for human trafficking is death, either in the courts, or more likely, at the hands of the Imperial Marines.
For the moment we have nothing but time on our hands and the way I figure it, chaos and war have always been profitable.
In any case, the Lazloi can't stop ships going into the Imperium forever, can they?
-- Aenrra Fourrg, Vargr, aboard the pirate ship "Lovely Lola", official registry, ND-2643 "Venture Star".
Karl Wolmark, you have two messages in your inbox...
[MESSAGE 1]
Thank you for giving me this unique opportunity.
I am intrigued as to how you came about such an item, but I understand the need for secrecy in this matter.
I can summarise my findings as follows.
The vehicle displaces around 150 tons and is 40 metres long by 9 metres wide.
With the exception of a set of doors mounted centrally, there are no openings anywhere on the surface, or any engine exhaust or thruster ports. At this stage, we believe that the ship must use antigravity propulsion to take off, much like our own ships. How it manoeuvres in deep space, we do not know.
You will see that we have had to place the ship on hydraulic rams as it appears to have no landing gear. Its unusual and impractical shape means it cannot be set on the ground without support.
The ship is comprised of a blue metallic material with some substructures and cosmetic detailing in white silver. The final construction detail is a singular red section at the nose.
The material is proving difficult to analyse. It shows many of the characteristics of the heavy transition metals such as Tantalum, Osmium, Tungsten and Rhenium. It appears to be much denser and immensely tougher however, and even resists chemical attack from acids. Our hardest drills have been blunted by it. We are speculating that the Lazloi may have exploited a phenomena known as lanthanide contraction, or that the material is suffused with force fields, or underwent an artificial re-alignment of the lattice structure.
Our ultrasound measurements suggest a hull thickness of about one metre, but tell us very little about the internal structure. The immense weight of such a small vessel suggests that much of the interior is comprised of mechanisms and not living space.
Power signatures are minimal to non-existent. Electrical activity is also minimal, but was seen to change markedly when the prisoner was first brought to the storage area.
This is the first evidence we have that the ship reacts to changes in its environment. In spite of her substandard education and language skills, I recommend that the prisoner not be liquidated at this time until her connection with the artefact is established.
We will continue to tackle the entrance doors with cutting equipment, but may have to consider explosives or powerful lasers if these prove ineffective.
p.s. Doctor Almeda wishes to start an autopsy but tells me his requests for the Lazloi body have been ignored. Please advise.
-- Dr Neuerman
[MESSAGE 2]
Sir, I have to report an incident for which Security is entirely to blame. I can assure you that if they were performing their duties correctly, this would not have happened.
As I mentioned in my previous message, the ship reacts to the presence of the prisoner and for this reason, we have brought her into the test chamber on a number of occasions.
Today, the prisoner was left unattended by the guard assigned to her. She was able to wander about unsupervised and into close proximity of the Lazloi ship.
My staff were preoccupied with the new readings emanating from the ship and did not notice an access lift descending from the Lazloi craft till it was too late.
I'm sure the prisoner was as surprised as we were, but had the presence of mind to leap into the open door. Although one of guards opened fire and thinks he may have hit the prisoner, the door closed and the lift retracted into the belly of the craft.
I need not remind you of the extraordinary properties of the blue metal used to build the ship. Our efforts to attack the door where the lift emerged have been completely fruitless.
The ship appears to be partially operational, and could be an even greater danger no doubt with the prisoner potentially in control.
I have evacuated my staff from the hangar and await your instructions.
-- Dr Neuerman
Kleneptra, I thought I had bid farewell to you months ago when our grandmother told me you were lost to us.
I remember the tears and the nights alone, the grieving of our mother and the heartfelt support of my clan sisters. I heard that your ship had ceased sending its regular message drones from Hycaron, and was told that the Enemy now held control over that world.
I questioned why we could not go there, to honour you at least and help you make that final journey beyond the veil. Grandmother Kyraenia was insistent that our hand was not to be revealed, and that in good time, we could observe our rituals and customs.
I realise now that she was wrong, that Kyraenia's counsel was that of fear and weakness. What damage this strategy of appeasement and avoidance has cost us is incalculable. I know that it cost you your life, and in a manner grotesque and barbaric. If we had followed the way of the Gathering of Ravens, we might have gone to Hycaron II and you would be alive today.
The communiqué from the Enemy was sent to us as we jumped into the star system of Candor. It was luck perhaps that we choose to go there first, for with our drives, we could easily have gone to Gateway to join our forces in a single jump.
The voice was human, but the mind that controlled it was made of the dark viscous evil that we encountered on Illaria. It extorted us to turn back and stay away from the battle that was to come. This is proof that some of the controlling minds have already taken a foothold on Candor, and it is only a matter of time before they wreak havoc there too.
We sent our reply and made ready to jump again, this time to Gateway where we would wait for the Enemy to appear.
The Enemy contacted us again.
Nobody said a word as the images were shown on our main screen. I saw you surrounded by humans and fending off their attacks. I was shocked because you looked so unwell and listless, but saw that you gave a good account of yourself against your enemies. I saw that the human that felled you however was warped and corrupted, like animated flesh controlled from afar. We were stunned when your shields failed. Why didn't you cycle your shields, why weren't they at full strength?
What followed was a travesty, a monstrous crime, and many wept openly. The voice warned us again to turn back and retreat to our borders, but those tears turned to anger. It took all my self-control to reply. I told the Enemy that we were not the Songbirds that he was talking to, but the Gathering of Ravens, and there would be no retreat, and no surrender.
I wanted to cry for you Kleneptra, but a raging storm fills my heart. I look down on Candor and see these worthless human collaborators as vermin. We came to help them over the centuries in our quest to find a cure for ourselves, giving much and receiving little in return. I remember your kindness and concern for them over many years. I was once in love with a human man but it was nothing but tragedy. Though I survived the pregnancy, Kyraenia took my daughter from me and cast her into the darkness.
This crime against you is an abomination and unforgivable. I swear by the Dark Sister herself that it will be avenged. I will not hear of this plan to simply destroy the Enemy when we know that the darkness is below us in the hearts of humans. The Enemy will simply hide and bide its time, waiting for our resolve to fail. Nothing will stop this infection unless I destroy both the agent and its host.
I will go to Gateway and cut out this evil once and for all. Where once the Lazloi were revered as bringers of wonder, now we will be feared as harbingers of destruction. I swear this oath by the blood that weeps from my hand, I will not stop Kleneptra; I will not stop until we are reunited again.
My path to you will be strewn by the dead and entire worlds afire.
-- Alisandra ny Hybritta ny Kyraenia hept Zilaerion
I think I'd have been more afraid, if it wasn't for the bullet wound in my leg.
I lay in darkness for what seemed like hours, eyes and mouth clenched against the pain. Below me, I could hear distant thuds against the hull of the ship. I thought I heard shouting, but I think I imagined that.
The floor was cold and smooth, but in places, warm and sticky. I was already feelin' a little sick and I guess lyin' down was as good an idea as any. Feeling my leg, I found the holes pretty quickly and tried to make a tourniquet. Made a bad job of it though, 'cos I passed out.
When I woke again, I was still in the lift but there was this light coming through the open door. The room was full of equipment, mostly scattered around. I saw a space suit and stuff that looked like weapons. It was pain that dragged me back to reality. Looking back at my leg an' the dark pool of blood in the lift, I knew I was in trouble.
I shouted out hello, but the air was dead an' all. I shouted out again but there was no answer. Somebody had dropped that lift for me but now they were playing games. I guess I was getting scared then, 'cos I started swearing and screamin' at them to show their face.
I shut up when the door to the next room opened. I waited and held my breath, but nobody showed up. I dragged myself over to the door but found another room, it had tables and chairs, panels and consoles. This one was all pretty with wood an' strange designs, and decorated with paintings an' sculptures.
The floor was covered with scattered equipment too, thrown about I guess when the ship was brought here. I dragged myself into the middle of the room, left a bloody trail behind me. This must have been a ready room or lounge.
The next door opened and I shouted out again. Another no show.
I was starting to feel cold and my head was spinnin' around. Dragging myself to the next door took forever. It was a bedroom, two bunks, storage racks, facilities, and a wardrobe. If was all beautiful too, wood carvings, etched mirrors and a smell of flowers.
I couldn't feel my legs by then, an' my hands were starting to tingle. If the last door hadn't opened, I probably would have stopped there. I could see it was different. Two openings in the floor, two egg-shaped cockpits sunk into the blue metal of the ship. One of them flickered with colours an' light while the other was dark. I tried calling out but my body was starting to shutdown. I cried with the effort to pull myself into the room. There was no blood trail now and my eyes weren't focussing properly. I thought I heard a voice but I figure I was losing my head.
It was some kinda miracle that got me into the seat, 'cos I heard a door close over me. Panels and view screens were changing and flashing all around, but I was too far gone to care. I was freezing cold and my body was starting to detach from my brain.
There's a bright light coming towards me and I can hear that voice again. I'm so cold now. Frak, I'm blind and I think I've stopped breathing, Lise, try and breathe, breathe, dammit!
Fade to black...
-- Elise Mackie, somewhere on Candor
We find ourselves on a planet infested with the living dead, and it looks like we're gonna be on this stinking rock for a quite while.
Not enough that the orbital drop got dispersed by storms, or the grav APC units went off grid, we were betrayed by our science team and our ride got chased off by the frakking Lazloi. Not that we don't have to thank the Lazloi for something, it was them that took out the infestation at the starport, quite what it was I dunno, and I try not to think too much about it. All I know is that after those things were destroyed, things improved from frakking dire to frakking bad.
The dust seems to be inactive now; by that I mean, things that are dead tend to stay dead, but there's plenty of live dead things, especially in the towns and cities. Dyybuks are everywhere, scavenging food and water, but they don't leave the streets. The other forms like birds and animals go further out, and we have to careful about hunting packs, but sticking to the badlands and deserts keeps us out of harms way.
Our map computers are full of food and refuelling points, which means that as long as we watch the gas, we can keep moving around. Food is still OK, and now that we've contacted groups of survivors, we can bring and share food with them too.
The things that scare us most are the alien invaders. I dunno if they're just warped forms of human or animal, or something from the outside, but they can kill and destroy in seconds. We've been lucky, but we've come across survivor communities that weren't. The only good news is that the more dangerous or clever these forms are, the fewer there seem to be.
We keep an eye on the sky everyday for a ship and the promise of rescue, and so do our new friends in the stockades along our routes. Nothing has appeared in months, and we have to figure that maybe the same thing has happened elsewhere. It was bad enough on a sparsely populated world like this; I can't imagine what it would be like on a high population world like Candor.
Tomorrow, we're making a stop at a fortified farm in the hills. We need a plan to recover one of our disabled vehicles from the nearby town. We'll also be hooking up with the local people for some relaxation.
A girl might be neck deep in monsters and zombies, and more than a little crazy, but she still deserves some fun, right?
-- Mission log of Lieutenant Ara Mercator, Recon Group
-- Mission Clock: Malfunction, master clock is offline
