"Genesis 5-3 sighted, sir, distance: 64.5 light months, vector: 51.5, 20.3, 73.9."

"Prepare the landing craft for entry, and put the extraction team on alert code Omega-9."

"Orders noted, sir. Team Pegasus will enter the cryostasis chamber and commence electronic reanimation. Upon completion mission briefing will be held immediately. Vector registered – entering orbit in zero-five-six minutes."

"Very good. Set course for ultra-high geostationary orbit above Genesis 5-3, and upload the coordinates of the Ark into E.V.E. The planet’s atmosphere is 53% disulphur tetraoxide - Pegasus' life support systems will give them no more than 160 minutes to complete extraction and rendezvous with the Discovery quarantine module."

"Yes sir…."

"What is the matter, Karan? You've been holding something back ever since we left home."

"…my apologies sir. If I may be so bold, why are we here? This part of the galaxy has not been explored in 53 cycles – and is cursed according to many in the Academy. What is the significance of this Ark we seek?"

"Ahh, yes, I should have explained earlier. Five thousand cycles ago there was a settlement on Genesis 5-3. We call the inhabitants of this settlement 'Predecessors'"

"I read about these Predecessors once. Were they like us?"

"No. These were dangerous creatures which were aggressive by nature. 4,759 cycles ago, a war was fought which destroyed the atmosphere on Genesis 5-3. A single orbital barge was put on autopilot for what is now Cygnus 5-2 – those onboard became the sole remnants of that race once the ecosystem on Genesis 5-3 collapsed. Before they left a service robot erased the memory of those on board so they would not know the turbulent history of their kind, and start anew. Over time those Predecessors would evolve into what we are today…

“…”

"…we seek the Ark because it contains a digital record of these Predecessors' genetic structure. The Council demanded its extraction so we are able to isolate what still remains of them within our own XNA, and eradicate the imperfections we still suffer from."

"Understood, sir. Thank you. Just one more question – did these Predecessors have a name for themselves?"

"Yes. Yes they did. They called themselves 'humans'. Their name for Genesis 5-3 was 'Earth'".

The old man stared at them, the beardless youth and his companion. His breath rattled in his ancient throat as the boy made his proposition. He kept his silence as the boy finished speaking, mustering his fading strength to give his answer:
"No."
The boy almost choked on his next words, voice lost in shock. His grey-bearded advisor hastened to speak:
"We can offer you double-"
"Save your breath, wizard," spat the old man. "I don't want your gold. You have nothing that can make me do what you ask."
The boy, giving his advisor a sharp look, adopted a conciliatory tone. "Surely," he pleaded, "there must be some manner in which we can find an equitable trade."
The old man, straight-backed, answered with an angry spark in his eye, "Do not bandy words so. Speak the truth: You wish to buy my support. My answer is no."
With a deep breath, the youth nodded, admitting defeat. "Very well then. Why do you refuse me? There are many in the land who still look to you to lead them. Why not tell them to support the true king?"
Smiling grimly now, the old man answered. "You are no true king. You are a usurper, born of usurpers. You lay claim to that which belongs to another." He held up his hand to forestall protest. "Do not prattle to me of fathers, of signs and swords. You name yourself king of lands that belong to Rome."
The boy and his counsellor looked at each other. "Rome is gone, old man." said the younger. "Rome betrayed us and fled. You were there."
"Yes," said the aged man - the Roman - "I was there. I was there to see the greatest empire this world has known, an empire that stretched from the Nile to the Danube, from the sands of Syria to the Pillars of Hercules. I was there to see the statues and palaces, the temples and stadiums our artisans wrought. I saw the triumphs of emperors in the Eternal City and the valour of the legions in a stricken field. And now all that is lost, and boys rule over the birthplace of emperors and barbarians squabble over Rome's corpse."
The boy nodded, and for the first time he seemed almost a man. "Rome has fallen," he agreed, "and warlords fight over the fragments of empire while her sons cower in the east. Rome is gone. But I do not seek to steal what was Rome's; Rome no longer rules here, and I am called to take up the mantle of kingship from my fathers. Rome abandoned us, long ago, and now we rule ourselves. Can you not aid me in this?"
The proud old Roman shook his head. "I am Aurelius Martinus, Comes Britanniarum, a soldier of Rome. I will not betray her memory. You have your crown, Arthur Pendragon, but I cannot wish you joy of it. Go in peace; that is all the blessing I can give."

A new kingdom you say? Why... why should we bother? What will this ancient land do for us; a land once built on trade ​between prosperous nations, mighty kingdoms, powerful princes. Of course, young one, you wouldn't remember such days. It seems so long ago since the fall, yet the memory of that fateful day still burns bright in my mind, as clear as I see you now - but even clearer is how this land was before, before we were engulfed by the sand.

But, I hear you say, the sand provides us with what we need, does it not? Yes, you would be right. Now it gives us what we need, but nothing more. Before gold would flow up and down the mighty rivers of our land, we would bask in its heat. Aye, we were greedy, but when people have too much they want more, and when they want more they have too much. Amidst the chaos of the fall people felt like what it was to be at the mercy of the land, and they did not like how that felt.

When it was over and the survives walked the sand once more they were quick to place the blame, anything to try and advert their grief for which they had lost. Some blamed Nile, the god of our people, for this destruction. In truth if the fall was the work of Nile he had every right, we were greedy, insolent in our ways and our deeds yet despite the omens we did naught to repent for our sins.

So we suffered, and for days the world went black, for days we waited in fear - in fear of what had happened, and what was to come. We wished for forgiveness but it was past that, the day of judgement had been and gone, and those of us who had survived felt like we were alive truly for the first time. Nile had spared us and we now had a duty to raise a new kingdom but in this we too failed, lost on the surface of this new world. We were of the old, unchanged to face the future; and so we perished, only a few of us, the 'sand-walkers' as you have named us, managed to settle and rebuild.

It was a slow task, but one in which we managed to achieve over a great length of time - and now you are here child, to do what we were never able to do, forge a new kingdom, a better kingdom. Yet, now my time has come to pass on this task I can't help but think why bother? I have seen in the eyes of these men, at heart we are the same, we still succumb to the sins of our land.

So you see I fear, not for my death, but for what humanity has made itself, and what lies ahead - I fear we will be subject to an endless cycle.

The sky was a cacophony of crashing thunder, and the rain teemed from the heavens and clattered on the poised blades of the two brothers. They stood atop the ancient plateau, facing each other, steeling for the inevitable apex of events.
“You will go no further, Nile. Destroy the stone and end this madness. Sekhmet is the God of destruction! You are a fool to believe he would make an honest covenant with a mortal.” Adio’s voice strained to make itself heard over the thunder. Nile’s face contorted with frustration.
“Even the God of destruction cannot deceive me any more than this repulsive place has.” He spat, gesturing to the city of Alexandria beneath them. In one hand he held his blade, and in the other the weathered, black stone. Its blackness seemed to taint the veins on his hand and forearm, turning them an equal shade.
In the centre of the plateau, between the brothers, the offering table stood anchored to the sand covered surface. It was upon this that Nile could finally achieve his destiny. It was so close now that he quaked with anticipation of the power he would obtain. Upon restoring the tainted stone to Sekhmet, the pact would be complete, Egypt destroyed, and Nile’s new kingdom, where he and nobody else would reign, granted to him.
No more will you be deceived. No more will you bow and obey.
The deep, haunting voice rang in his mind, and seemed to resonate from the stone. He peered down at it with his reddened, tired eyes.
Do it. Now. Before he stops you.
Adio yelled once again across the plateau with a quivering tone of desperation in his voice. “Brother, you must listen! He means to deceive you! After Sekhmet is revived, and all that remains of Egypt is ashes, what kind of kingdom do you hope to forge here? There will be no people, no gold, only darkness. Can’t you see?”
“You are weak brother, you were always weak. Get out of my way. No one will stop me from getting the power I deserve.”
Tears now hemmed Adio’s eyes. “You mean to trade the lives of all those in Egypt for a corrupt God’s promise of a kingdom? To choose yourself over millions? Can you not see that no power is worth that sacrifice?” A malicious smirk emerged on Nile’s face, and Adio realised that there was nothing of the brother he knew left.
“Power, my dear Adio, is the ability to choose yourself over the weak.” He walked towards the offering table, leading with the stone in his hand, arm outstretched. The voice grew louder.
Yes… Closer. Your kingdom awaits you.
Adio leapt forward, tears on his cheeks, put himself between his brother and the table, and raised his sword with a loud cry. The fate of Egypt would now be decided by the clash of fraternal steel.

Dominion of the New Kingdom: Winter's desecration and Springs sorrow.


The billowing of the "Sands of Time" brings changes for both body and soul. Monday night, a quilt and terry cloth bathrobe kept winter's icy fingers from disrupting my dreams. Wednesday as the sunlight sank low in the western sky, a carpet of wildflowers flowed like the Nile delta and kept me company on the way to work. As I walked, I became lost in the sounds and sights that announced Springs temporary, yet energetic ascendance to the throne. Bumble bees hovered and butterflies floated over a variety of flowers that defied description. From palm size to almost microscopic, flower heads entranced one's vision. Blues, yellows, reds, purples, and fiery red-oranges all fought with passion to be the "Belle of the Ball"

Rainy April days and nights bring despair to sun lovers, but exhilaration to others as raindrops deliver a soothing, delicate, lullaby as they dance upon rooftops and then cascade to the ground. Come sun up the pools that are thus created provide an artistic canvas for enthusiastic, mud covered, toddlers from eight to eighty. After these healthy rains mud is king of the hill and a dreaded curse for those of us that walk to work because mud covered shoes garner no cool points, once spied by the Da Boss.

With May's arrival comes sun rays that ply their trade with unrivaled passion. The quilts and blankets that had kept nocturnal chills at bay, are now frantically tossed aside in a fruitless attempt to escape the nameless horror that will soon arrive. Saturday afternoon around three, I awoke in a pool of sweat, powerless in the knowledge that that vile, grotesque thing had now arrived. Perspiration... gross, oil covered, stench ridden sweat will now be my constant, emboldened companion for what seems like an eternity that I must now endure for the next five or six months. Yes my friends, the golden age of sun lovers is once again upon us. My sympathies at spring's sorrow all too real. Your few weeks of unrivaled beauty, horribly snatched away, and now soon, forever gone.


Thus the ancient, annual, ritual is renewed, It's rapture ensnaring us all....

Dominion of the New Kingdom: of Summer is here.

- Approach! Fear not, mortal one, for I do not resent you! Although you have fought against me, as valiantly and stubbornly as it was, I do not wish either to harm or smite you.
- Am I dead? Have I not succeeded?
- You are, yes and no, you have not.
- How can this be then? I was certain I would either vanquish you or be cast away, but how can this have happened?
- You understand little of how my ancient power manifests. I grant you, you have been the first to go down this path for as long as you did, yet you were farther from your goal than you realise.
- Don’t for a moment think I will stop...not while I know who I am, not while I know who YOU are.
- I do not think of such petty things. My plans are beyond the gaze of those such as you.
- Face me now then, lest you are afraid...or a coward.
- I am neither, so don’t pretend to challenge me. If I so desired, you would be forever lost in agony, nothing but utter despair and perpetual misery would follow you...but I told you, I do not wish you harm. Instead, I have a task for you, one for which you fit nicely.
- And if I deny you this, because rest assured I will, wouldn’t it be better to end it here and now?
- Don’t you first want to hear my proposal? HAHAHA! You amuse me! This is not a plea. This is not a trade; I do not offer alternatives, a reward if you agree or punishment if you refuse. I am merely telling you what shall be. You are to be born anew!
- You are more foolish than you think. Why would you permit me another chance, another life?
- Worry not! You shall be a glorious follower, maybe even my most glorious. You are to be given birth on the banks of the river Nile and you are to rise to the top amongst your brethren.
- Where is this place? I have never heard of it.
- In a different realm, one similar to yours. You will bathe that world in blood, conquer every land, even the great sands, you will destroy the gold statues of their gods, you will forge a new kingdom and you will do all of this in my name.
- I WILL NOT!
- You will, in time. First you need to be reborn.
- I have sworn to destroy you and I shall. Even in another realm, I will find a way.
- ENOUGH!


- Push, hard, push!

Ship diary, 18 may 1687

We are experiencing heavy seas from three days now but she is holding well, that’s not what i can say about the crew, morale in not so good, two of the new recruits have the west nile fever; tried to cheer up the other lads with some drinks the other day and for the time being they seem content. That spanish rum we bought in Old Providence had done it’s job after all but his royal majesty, king James II should stop the trade with Spain now, as the war seems imminent; they sell only bad stuff anyway. As for the „Gregarious” the hunt is still on, we lost her in the storm but with the damage it has taken in the fight i presume Raimund will not risk his ship and crew out at sea for to long so he must be heading for the coast and take a south route after. He must not escape me this time, the Governor of Nassau orders were explicit; not to capture it...

- Pardon Sir, but we spotted land ahead.
- I presume no sign of „Gregarious” yet.
- True, but the weather is improving and we shall have a greater line of sight, the sun is finally up.
- Very well James,carry on now. I will be on deck in a moment.
The captains red tunic was dirty but even in this state it imposed respect. His rank in the Royal Navy would mean nothing far here on the seas, away from London, but the men saw what he is capable off since the fighting begun, and only the storm saved „Gregarious”. Just one man was injured and in such a fight sailors know how to distinguish a skilled commander from providence.
The coast was still far away but with the spyglass he could see Tulum, or El Castillo as spanish named it, an ancient pyramid form the former world. The sand beach shined like gold in the sun and sea birds were flying above in circles.

- Ship spotted, port side! The man on the watch yelled. Bells started ringing.

The captain directed the spyglass into that direction. A fast ship was heading towards them with full sails. „Gregarious” !

- All hands on deck! The captain ordered.

- So he stopped running in the end,said James.
- He knew he would be spotted with the clear sky so he decided to end this. A courageous man i must say. Perhaps with all his masts he could have tried to outmaneuver us, but like this he knows he is lost, either we catch him and he dies running, or he tries to board us. His chances are slim, but nevertheless he must act. That’s what i would have done in his place. Man the cannons boys! And keep her at bay! Wait till she is on firing range then steer it to have a firing line! No moment to soon...

“I told ye not t’shoot the cannon straight down!!!” cried Captain Bodemloze from the quarterdeck. “Gunnery Sergeant, bring me the barnacle-brained fool what blew this hole in me ocean!”

The Confederate Jeb heaved against the current as a giant whirlpool opened nearby and began to swirl violently.

Even the most hardened sea-rats cursed as Gunnery Sergeant Dance descended onto the gun deck. The mute old pirate stamped madly on the wooden boards, “Where is he?” Dance signaled with furious Emotion, “Name him!”

Every privateer turned a ghostly shade of white; they had never seen the Gunnery Sergeant so consumed with rage. Every hand shot to the gun in the center of the cramped compartment. There, crouched behind the smoking R-Teen Ultra-Powered Pirate Cannon, cowered the captain’s nephew. Most crewmembers knew the lad as the “Dude with the Food,” due to his unusually large collection of salted seagulls, though his real name was Robin, son of the Famed Radzeer “The Rogue” Bodemloze.

Dance scowled and gripped the young man by the collar, dragging him across the splintered floor and up to the quarterdeck.

Above deck the cannons thundered as the whirlpool grew. While most of the enemy fleet fled the maelstrom, two boats were still locked in deadly battle. On one edge sailed The Confederate Jeb, captained by the nefarious Shankbot de Bodemloze; on the other sailed The Darkan, flagship of the royal navy and captained by none other than William “The Marshal”.

Amid the chaos the Gunnery Sergeant emerged to the top deck with Robin behind him. Shankbot looked down and grinned, showing his full set of gold teeth. “Sure as sin lad you’re brain’s rum-rotted from stem to stern. I wager you’ll go down in history as Rum-Robin ‘The Intoxicated’ Bodemloze!”

A cannonball whistled past Shankbot’s head, taking his cap with it. “Blast it all!” cried Shankbot as he ordered his ship to return fire. From across the whirlpool Shankbot could see the Darkan shudder and tip violently to one side. “Direct hit!” shouted the captain, “come about lads!”

The Confederate Jeb groaned as it fought to escape the vortex. Just as they broke the crest Robin saw the captain shudder and fall from the helm as shrapnel tore into Shankbot’s left shoulder. Quick as a flash Robin rushed across the bridge and caught his uncle before losing him to the violent waters below.

As the ship came-to there was an awed silence as Robin pulled his uncle back onboard. The crew stood still as stone as Shankbot slowly climbed back to his feet. “You see that lads?” said the captain to his gnarled crew, “even three sheets to the wind us Bodemloze are the finest Jack Tar’s this world has to offer!” The crew all shouted wildly as Robin was raised to the sky. That night every pirate aboard The Confederate Jeb drank to their hearts content, toasting Robin de Bodemloze and their most glorious victory against the English Crown.

Posted by ID:33266 EDITED: 07/05/2012
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RESULT SIX: ##field encrypted## - ##field encrypted##

Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me. A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day. An hour of woes and shattered shields, when the age of men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!