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Sir Scott le Charles Crew
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 Posted: Fri Mar 09, 2007 2:04 pm
March 27, 2010
It was a brilliant day when the Sirona left its port. The suns light broke apart and created a dazzling display in the waters the ship sailed in, and the white waves as water dashed across the massive ships only furthered the display. This ship, in all it's brilliance, the pinnacle of seafaring technology, amidst a display of nature's true beauty, it was a sight to see.
The ship picked up speed as it moved, the waves striking its hull more often, and with more force. Ripples spread from it, waves of dazzling water, reflecting the sun, moving off from the ship. It took a while to leave port, but all who watched, watched in awe. One hundred metres long, almost the length of a football field, and it moved so gracefully through the water. It's hull was made of the finest materials, and reflected the light of the sun. Four decks, each one hundred metres long, housing people and labs. Armouries and cafeterias. A city on water, designed for one purpose.
Through their awe, all who watched also feared. Feared for the safety of those on board. This ship, it set sail for one purpose, to study diseases in the safety of the ocean, far from large populations. And as they watched it sail off, as the ripples slowly dwindled in size, as the massive ship shrunk into the distance, they knew they may never see anyone onboard it again.
As it disappeared they scattered, to homes and businesses, to rest and peace, while in the distance a struggle would begin. A struggle for the lives of others, and a struggle for the lives of themselves.* * *
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Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2007 8:16 pm
August 3, 2010
Few but the eyes of seafaring birds and seadwelling animals saw the Sirona that fateful day. And even if the eyes of humans saw it, what would they see but a ship? It was large, yes, but many ships were large. It was a great work of man, but it's true brilliance lay on the inside. And on the inside was where it all went wrong.
Under microscopes in the labs underneath the Sirona's deck small organisms moved. So simple they were, a blob of cytoplasm, with six 'arms' and all the insides of a cell. For that is all it is, all it was. A cell, a tiny little cell. And that cell, and all others like it, what the scientists were studying, jotting down notes on paper and computers, is why they set out that day, and why they died this one.
Those cells, so tiny in appearance, were not tiny in affect. And the mishap of one scientist, one respected by all and in his prime, set them loose. He was the first victim, the first to be infected, but he was not the last. None but him knew what happened, and even he did not know how, but he was sent to sickbay, and there the cells spread, the virus spread.
On such a large ship it was inevitable that people would get sick, and he seemed like everyone else. Yet whereas the others were sick with mundane sicknesses, he housed a deadly virus. And as he waited, as all waited, it spread through his body, and spread through the ship. One doctor with no sterile mask and another was infected. His coughs on his dinner plate and soon more were infected. It spread rapidly after that, and the madness began, the race was on.
The virus had been set loose, and the research was not complete. Those survivors could only hope that the researcher's left alive could discover a cure, and until then, the fight for survival was on.* * *
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Sir Scott le Charles Crew
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Sir Scott le Charles Crew
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 9:11 pm
August 9, 2010
Mark Lawrence stood, rising from his chair and facing outwards towards the deck. Behind him were only two people, Jacques and Laura. They had the Head Researcher and the communications officer up here. Just outside he knew Tyler Mason was watching guard, if any of the infected crew made it up here, they would be held off, and Tyler would take care of them. He was a good man, and Mark was glad he survived. Unfortunately he only knew of those three, for all he knew the rest of the crew was gone. They'd find out soon enough though, once food ran out they would have to go to the messhall below decks, and who knew what state that was in.
Silence commanded the bridge, as none of the three spoke. There was no need to, nothing to talk about. What needed to be said had already been said. Communications seemed to be down, they couldn't reach anyone outside the ship, and if anyone was alive they were without radios. Or at least not on the correct frequencies. Jacques had already explained what they knew about the virus, which is why they locked themselves up in the bridge with all the supplies they had. Highly contagious and turning the infected into volatile madmen, driven mad by pain until the virus killed them. And then no one knew what would happen.
They had theories of course, based on the research they had done. This virus was unlike many others, and seemed somewhat parasitic, leeching off the host and using it to spread itself. It seemed to also create strange tumours, and that what ad been worrying the researchers, it was possible that something more could come after the victim died. Until that had been seen though, Mark didn't want to think about it, he'd rather just think about survival. And survival was all that was in his mind as a pounding started at the door, something seemed to be there. Not someone, no, a sane person would speak. The pain and madness filled screaming and pounding was no person. Hopefully Tyler was fine, though Mark wondered what was keeping him, usually he took care of the infected before they got to close...
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