RAGTAG FAMILY - "Life Is But A Dream" (PILOT) CONTINUED... The Clymians were created by man. They were created to enforce law on the Thirteenth Colony. And then the day came when they lost faith in their human masters. They rebelled. JERUSALEM CITY - EARTH ONE HOUR BEFORE THE FALL The noontime sunlight bathed the ancient city, as numerous Jewish faithful and tourists gathered by the Western Wall, as several Clymian Centurions walked around, keeping a watchful scan over all the activity, as the sun gleamed on their brilliant chrome armor, and their red scanning eyes roved from left to right, with a loud and menacing drone, which accompanied the clanking of their metal feet, on the stone road. Suddenly, the Clymians, as well as some of the other people in the area, were distracted by the sounds of a large number of people walking up to the area near the wall, and carrying protest signs, as the large group began to call out to the people... "Don't be mislead by a false God! The many true Gods will drive out the one, and show us the way home!" the group chanted. Instantly, the group was met with angry shouts from many of the local faithful, as the Clymians in the area began to converge on the protesters. "You are creating a public disturbance. You must cease and vacate the area, immediately. If you do not comply, we will use deadly force." the first Centurion boomed, in a menacing and reverberating metallic voice. "Fuck you!" the lead protester shouted, at the Clymian. "The judgment of the Gods is at hand! We're not going anywhere!" he shouted. "As you command. Annihilate!" the lead Clymian boomed, as instantly, all the Centurions switched from hands to guns, and opened fire on the group, striking each and every person, as people fell back, bleeding, as many of the people who were trying to run away were also now becoming targets. CLYMIAN COMMANDSTAR - EARTH ORBIT The great Clymian ship sat in orbit over the Thirteenth Colony, as multitudes of Stalkers began to launch from its bays, and race down towards Earth. CONTROL ROOM The head of an elderly man angled backward, until it came to rest on a small platform, and the man lowered his arms into the pool of milky liquid, as he closed his eyes for a moment. After a moment, the old man's eyes opened up again, and he let out a loud gasp, and after a moment, began reciting words at a rapid pace... "All systems integrated. Stalkers launched, approaching targets. It is time. The plan is underway. Put the pen to the paper, draw the circle. All this is about to happen, and will happen again. The children of the lost now themselves become lost. The circle is now closed... return to the beginning." the man recited. RIO DE JANEIRO The statue of Christ the Redeemer stood tall and proud against the blue sky, its arms outstretched, as suddenly, wave after wave of Clymian Stalkers began to soar over head, filling the sky. As the Stalkers flew over the vast city below the mountain, the statue looked on, as the Stalkers began to drop bombs over the city below, until the deadly bombs hit the surface, and flashes of blindingly brilliant white light enveloped the vista. RIVERSIDE PARK, NEW YORK CITY The sounds of horns honking and a few bicycle bells ringing could be heard, as a man with sunglasses walked along an area of fresh fruit stands. Suddenly, he was distracted by a brilliant flash of white light, as people began to scream, as the white light enveloped everything in sight. CLYMIAN COMMANDSTAR CONTROL ROOM In the milky pool, the old man continued to recite the flow of incoming data. "And so, it begins. The paradox of time enters into life, by embracing death. Alliance Warstars approaching... launching Cobras... initiate evasive maneuvers... CLYMIAN COMMANDSTAR In space, the large ship began to come about, as it faced two Warstars, one on each side, as both large Earth ships opened fire, sending a silvery stream of bullets out at the Clymian ship, as it moved to escape. CONTROL ROOM The old man now opened his eyes a bit wider, as he continued to speak... "The seed has been planted... the flower has bloomed. The exodus has begun... the journey that will begin the journey. Three... two... one... JUMP!" he called out. CLYMIAN COMMANDSTAR In space, the large ship continued drifting along, as the FTL flashring enveloped the ship, and vanished it from view, as behind it, numerous nuclear explosions were occurring on the surface of the Earth. TO BE CONTINUED...
Interesting mix. Is this earth 1.0 from RDM or our fate sometime after the honeybee discovery At any rate, I like it
Thanks! Well, remember... the events of Urantia established that both Earths are in fact, the same planet. But to answer your question... yes... this is after the discovery of the Honeybee... the fall of Earth. The guy walking by the fruit stands in Riverside Park is Tyrol, from Earth.
RAGTAG FAMILY - "Life Is But A Dream" (PILOT) CONTINUED... ARKSTAR GALLEON 1,996 YEARS AGO The ship sailed through space, now with only a small handful of ships. CAPTAIN VENTAR'S QUARTERS The lights in the small room were dim, as Captain Ventar sat at his desk, a glass of ale in his hands, as he drank his troubles away. The man looked like he had been at it for some time... his hair was a mess, and his eyes were starting to show some redness, and his uniform was untidy. Grimacing, he balled his hands into fists, as he reached across the desk, again living a bad memory, as his head looked up to face the door, as a set of knocks brought him back into reality. "WHAT!" he shouted, as after a moment, the door opened, and his XO walked into the room, gradually taking a seat across from Captain Ventar, and looking at the drunk man, as Ventar just glared back at the XO, consumed with anger. "You wanna talk about it, Sir?" the XO asked. Finally, after a moment, Ventar replied, leaning back into his chair. "There's not much to discuss, is there?" he began, with obvious disdain in his voice. "Those Goddamn motherfruckers showed their true nature today, the whole motherfrucking ungrateful lot of them!" he spat, as now he rose from his chair, and walked over to the counter, to grab another bottle of ale. "We've taken a fleetwide vote, and have elected to settle here... on this world... New Emilon." he recited, mockingly, as he looked to his XO. "A frucking fleetwide vote?" he shouted. "Who the FRUCK are THEY? I alone, am the Captain of this fleet!" he spat, as he took a long set of gulps from his new glass of ale. "Well... it has been four years, Sir... people are growing weary... wondering if we'll ever find another world to call home. The group from the Emilon continent seem to have found theirs." the XO began, looking to the Captain. "They may not be the last, either... I've heard reports that the group from the Omiron continent is thinking of doing the same." he added. Captain Ventar's look grew dark, as he turned back to his glass, and downed the rest of the drink, looking back to his XO. "It's not Kobol!" he spat. "None of these worlds have been like Kobol... as nice as Kobol... as beautiful, and rich with life. THAT is what we're seeking... a new place to call our home, where we CAN be and feel at home... not just the first random rock we find, that can sustain life." he said. "The people chose ME to lead this fleet to a new home, and that's what I'm frucking trying to do!" he added. "And you're doing a fine job, Sir... nobody could have asked any more of you these past four years." the XO offered. The Captain allowed a small sarcastic chuckle escape, as he replied. "Yeah, well, they have a frucking funny way of showing it... taking a group of ships, and turning their backs on the rest of us... abandoning us." he stated. "They haven't abandoned you, Sir." the XO began. "They know you did a great job... but you have to realize how lucky we've been these past four years... from the time we left Kobol, the fleet has not had one incident yet, of panic or unrest, due to claustrophobia, or people going stir-crazy. Four years is a long time to be out in space. Not everyone can do it. The Emilonians needed an escape... to feel solid ground beneath their feet, and breathe fresh air. To have open spaces, and look up into the sky, and see a sun. They just didn't want to wait as long as the others." he offered. For a long moment, the Captain and XO just shared a look, until Ventar's features softened slightly, as he resigned himself to the reality before him. "I will find us a new home." Ventar began, looking his XO in the eyes. "I swear it, I will." he added. "I know you will, Sir. And I'll be right by your side, when you do." the XO began, as he rose from his seat, and walked over to his Captain. "But you have to remember that we're only human... you can't expect everyone to hold out as long as some others may be able to... there will be others, who decide to break from the fleet, along the way. They're not bad people, and they're not against you. They just can't maintain this style of living as we can." he said, as he placed a reassuring hand on Ventar's shoulder, as the two men exchanged a small smile. "You know... I truly hope no other Captain ever has to deal with anything like this... you have no idea... it wears at you." Ventar stated. TO BE CONTINUED...
interesting that the Emilions did not repeat the cylon mistake. Seems to be the only "tribe" who learned the lesson.
^ Hehe, yeah... well, the main reason for that is their culture... the Emilons were the group that was like the Amish, as they didn't really use any high technology, and were more self-reliant. The Omirons also, were without any Cylons, in terms of Centurions.
LOL... don't worry... updates are coming. Aside from just taking my time, I have other stuff going on with real life, ATM. It'll be soon.
RAGTAG FAMILY - "Life Is But A Dream" (PILOT) CONTINUED... EMILON CITY - EMILON TWO MONTHS BEFORE ENCOUNTER WITH URANTIA The gleaming modern skyscrapers jutted into the air, towering above the activity of the busy city. EMILON CITY SUPERIOR COURTHOUSE Cars drove by on the street in front of the large courthouse, as a handful of people walked up and down the steps to the large building. COURTROOM A gavel slammed down on the Judge's bench, as the Judge looked up to the courtroom audience. "Enough! Silence!" he shouted, looking to the accused. "Will the accused please rise." he called. With that, the accused man, one Wardlow Ethem, rose to his feet, along with his lawyer, as a large group of women and men in the audience rose up as well. The women and men in the audience who also rose, were wearing very simple, modest clothing... pilgrim clothing... just as Ethem himself was wearing... a stark contrast to the modern business suits that the lawyer and others in the audience wore. "Mister Wardlow Ethem... you stand convicted of the following counts and charges." the Judge began, lifting a piece of paper up somewhat, to recite the accusations. "Two counts of inciting civil disturbance, one count of swindlery, and one count of attempted public display of high witchery. The people of this court henceford find you guilty of all charges, and on all counts, Mister Ethem." he stated, as he took off his glasses, and put the paper down, looking back up to Ethem, and the pilgrims behind him. "The good people of this fair world have tolerated the antics of your Arnish Movement for too long, Mister Ethem. Your constant attempts to overthrow our way of life will nary be tolerated anymore. Just because you and your followers have chosen to embrace the old ways of living, gives you not the right to impose those beliefs on the rest of our fair populace, and undo hundreds of years of progress and development. We care not where you go, Mister Ethem, but from this date henceford, not one single Arnish soul shall set foot outside of the Gladmyston region. Your areas... Gladmyston, Nancassett, and Ponder's Ferry... shall from this point on, separate your folk, from the rest of the Emilon populace. So it is decided, and so it is written. This court is adjourned." he added, slamming the gavel down, to seal the sentence, as all the pilgrims in the room began to shout out at the Judge, as he got up, and began to walk away. "Well there's a right rippin'." Ethem said softly to himself, as he looked after the Judge, and began shouting out at him. "Fair be it, Judge... fair be it... but be markin' my words, you're wrong! The people of Emilon are movin' too fast! The Gods themselves are on our side! You'll be seein' soon enough, you will, you fat bastard!" he yelled out. At that insult, the Judge paused in front of the door to his chambers, and looked to Ethem. "See will I?" the Judge asked, tauntingly. "Well then, Mister Ethem... if you are so convinced of the Gods bein' on your side... maybe you ought go to Kobol, and seek them out... make sure you get it in writing." he spat. "Aye, then... maybe I'll be doin' just that, then!" Ethem shouted. "Then you'll all be knowin' the truth, right an' proper! You can't be hidin' from the truth, Judge! Your judgement is at hand! The Gods cast us out of Kobol because we were movin' too fast, and they'll be doin' the same to Emilon, come not too far from now! 'Tis but a matter of time... mere yahrens, perhaps!" he yelled, as the Judge waved a dismissing hand at Ethem, as he entered his chambers, closing the door after him. NEW YORK CITY, EARTH FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE DESTRUCTION OF EARTH The vast island-city sprawled below, as various spacecraft sailed about in the sky over the busy city, casually going about their business, as in the streets far below, the sounds of car horns and police sirens could be heard. TIMES SQUARE The bright light of the red scanning eye of the Clymian Centurion filled the view, as the scanner roved to and fro, making a low and intimidating droning sound, with a very slight reverb. Suddenly, the Centurion turned to face its left, as it reacted to the sound of another Clymian walking by. But this was a new model of Clymian... This new Clymian looked like any other Centurion, except for the fact that it was slimmer, and exuded an almost petite, feminine quality to it. It also had different coloring... its armor was a mix of gold and silver... two-tone. As the first Centurion held its rifle, watching over the passing citizenry, it watched as the new Clymian walked into the Times Square NYPD precinct. NYPD PRECINCT CLYMIAN ROOM The new Clymian walked past various human NYPD officers, as it entered a room where a large number of Centurions were standing, on standby. The new Clymian took position between two standard Centurions, and began a power-down cycle, as the red scanner began to gradually slow speed, and dim slightly, until it was almost totally dark. Most Centurions were on power-down at this stage, until on active duty in the city. But for some reason, this model of Clymian, and this particular example of this one model, was experiencing something that no other Clymian since had experienced... It was dreaming. Gradually, the unexplainable images began to flash through the electronic brain of the Clymian... images it could not understand, yet was somehow drawn to... images of a vast city burning, but not its own city... not New York City... at least, not yet. This burning city was very alien, yet somehow, also totally familiar, and recognizable. New images appeared... images of Clymian Centurions, yet they looked like nothing on Earth... these dreamscape Clymians from another place were taller, and had long and narrow "faces", with scanning eyes in the shape of a "V", and a "mouth" that appeared to drop open. More images... a young woman in a tub of water looking up, and gasping, as her eyes closed in ecstasy... or was it pain? An elderly man looking right at this Clymian, in its dream, with stern eyes, as three other human men looked at the Clymian... one of them a black man. Then, the final image came... one of the alien Clymians... with the "V" scanners... it was looking right at this Clymian... directly at it, as its scanning eye roved from left to right, in a "V" shape, as if studying the dreamer with curiosity. Then came a woman's voice... soft... and uttering only one word... "Execute." the voice said. With a loud bang, the alien Clymian fired a single shot, right into the dreaming Clymian's head. Suddenly, the dreaming Clymian "awoke", with a loud feminine gasp... but that was not supposed to be possible, because Clymians were robots, and could not gasp. The Clymian's red scanner began to illuminate to full brightness again, and pick up speed, as the Clymian looked down, as it brought its hands up in front of it, seemingly examining the robotic appendages with distant fascination, as the other dormant Centurions stood silent around it, unaware of what was going on. TO BE CONTINUED...
^ Thank you. Thanks to my friend Atolm, I've been replenished with a brilliant new story arc, to run alongside the original arc, so I will be exploring that, with these next installments. Another update will come later tonight. And aye... seein' Eliza Winnow is never a bad sign. Seems as if everyone who knows this story now knows that image as the face of Eliza, hehe... branding in progress.
RAGTAG FAMILY - "Life Is But A Dream" (PILOT) CONTINUED... EMILON TWO MONTHS BEFORE ENCOUNTER WITH URANTIA The beautiful globe of blue and green rotated in space. GLADMYSTON GLENN A large assemblage of Arnish pilgrims stood on the green grassy meadow, which overlooked Gladmyston Harbor, in the distance, as a few tall sailing ships began to creep into the inner harbor, ahead of the fog looming on the horizon. The pilgrims were listening to Wardlow Ethem speak, on a small wooden stage that had been set up on the grass. "And so, I say why not? Why not give that Judge exactly what he's wantin'? Why not give him the proof?" Ethem called out. "After all, the seculars have made it clear that they'll be wantin' nothin' to do with our kind, so they won't be missin' us now, will they?" he asked. One pilgrim man spoke up from the crowd. "What is it you're suggestin', then?" he asked. Wardlow nodded, as he looked upon his flock. "I'm suggestin' that we do as the Judge said... return to Kobol, and seek out the Gods themselves! I'm suggestin' that we embark on a pilgrimage... back to our one true home!" Ethem called out, as many in the crowd gasped their surprise. "Father Ethem... a trip to Kobol is no small feat." one pilgrim woman began. "Aside from the fact that it'll take at least a couple yahrens to get there, how would we be doin' it? We have no starships!" she added, as a few in the crowd voiced their agreement. "Well..." Ethem began. "We could always charter a ship... after all... I'm sure someone amongst the seculars would be glad to accept our money, if it meant having most of us offworld for a few yahrens." he added, as he watched his flock to see their reactions to his idea. NANCASSETT TOWNSHIP The small pilgrim town sat silent in the moist fog that gently blanketed the area, feeding the lush green grass with moisture. The door to one of the small houses opened up, and a middle-aged woman emerged, holding a bucket of dirty water, which she proceeded to throw out on the ground in front of the door, as another woman from inside the house called to her. "Eliza... Eliza!" a woman's voice summoned. The woman with the bucket looked up, as she turned, and headed back into the house, closing the door after her. WINNOW FAMILY RESIDENCE Eliza Winnow set the bucket down, and ducked down a bit, as she walked down the few steps that led to the main living area of the house, where the dining table and chairs were, and found her mother standing beside her father, who was sitting in his chair, facing the fireplace. "Aye, mother... what is it?" Eliza asked. "Be seated, Eliza... I have news for you." her mother said, as Eliza walked over to the other chair, and sat down. "You've heard of Father Ethem's voyage... to Kobol, aye?" she asked. "Aye, that I have." Eliza replied, slightly puzzled at what her mother was getting at. "Well... I've... we've... your father and I, have signed you up to be a part of the voyage! To go with Father Ethem to the home of our Gods... to Kobol!" her mother said, excitedly. Eliza did not appear amused, and was momentarily at a loss for words, as she looked to her smiling mother and father, before finally replying. "Well, as much as I'd be appreciatin' that... I can't go... I don't want to go. I don't want to leave Nancassett, let alone the planet! If this is somethin' you're wantin'... you two go. But I have duties here." Eliza replied. "Eliza, dear... your father and I can't go. Your father is frail, and I am old. It is my role to stay here, and tend to him and the house. But you are young, and can make the trip well. You shall go in our stead. And besides... what a honor... to go back to the home of our Gods, with Father Ethem!" her mother offered. Eliza thought her mother's words over, before replying. "You do realize that we're all considered criminals in the eyes of the seculars, right? Criminals. And now you're askin' me to spend yahrens on one of the secular's ships, and to be a part of some kind of... ragtag fugitive fleet, that will supposedly be venturin' all the way to Kobol and back?" Eliza asked. "Well... your friends Sariah and Ezra are going... and Jebra, too." her mother began. "And besides... think of what a testimony it'd be for you... how it'd reaffirm your faith in the Book of the Word." she offered, as Eliza just looked to her, considering the idea. TO BE CONTINUED...
RAGTAG FAMILY - "Life Is But A Dream" (PILOT) CONTINUED... The young woman on the floor appeared to writhe in agony, as she closed her eyes, crying, in the throes of what could only be called a full-scale tantrum, as she suddenly screamed out with all her might... "WE'RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!" With a loud gasp, a young woman awoke in the total darkness of her quarters, and in the dark fumbled for the switch to the nightstand lamp, and activated the light. The light illuminated the face of a very sweaty and tired Pythia, as she looked ahead into space, lost in thought about the vivid dream she had just had. ARKSTAR GALLEON 1,992 YEARS AGO The massive ship sailed through space, followed by about five dozen other smaller vessels. PASSENGER CABIN A weary Pythia wiped the sweat from her forehead, as she silently contemplated the meaning of the dreams that had been troubling her for the past week... a young blonde woman, on the floor of a small room, seemingly in pain, and screaming about heading in the wrong direction. Just then, Pythia was distracted from her thoughts by the Galleon's intercom, which sounded to life, and Captain Ventar's comm voice came through, addressing the fleet... "This is the Captain... all ships, assume holding pattern, and prepare all stations for planetfall procedures... ready to execute final hyperlight jump upon return of secondary scouting parties. Secondary scouting wing... you are cleared to jump... good luck." Ventar's voice said, as the comm channel was closed. Pythia now turned to look out her window, in time to see a small group of four scouting vessels enter into view, and fire their engines, as they began to speed away from the Galleon. GALLEON SCOUTING PARTY #2 In space, the four small craft sped along in space, just as four golden FTL flashrings swept over the ships, and instantly replacing the view of open space, with the view of a large blue and green planet, that hung silent in space directly in front of all four craft, as they sped towards the new planet, gradually dwindling into mere specks against the planet, as they got closer to the world... Earth. EMILON ORBITAL SHIPYARDS - EMILON A shuttle sailed through space over and past the sprawling metal complex, which held various space ships of various size, including a few military escort ships. Suddenly, the shuttle angled to approach the closest of the three military escorts docked at the shipyard... EMILONIAN MILITARY ESCORT "SAL CALTANIS" PRIMARY HANGAR BAY Various deckhands walked about on the vast hangar deck, as the small shuttle rose up onto the deck, on the elevator from the level that was exposed to space, as a line of Emilonian military officers were lined up at attention, waiting to greet their new arrivals. The Emilonian officers were all wearing uniforms that if on Earth, would have been called "Nelson-Era" naval uniforms. As the shuttle's elevator came to a complete soft stop, the sound of a Boatswain's call was heard throughout the deck, as the hatch to the shuttle opened, and the stairs were lowered, allowing the passengers to emerge... One by one, the Arnish pilgrims began to file out of the shuttle, and set foot upon the deck of the Sal Caltanis, as deckhands and Marines helped them down, and greeted them, as they looked around, since the pilgrims had never been outside of their own towns, let alone offworld, on the deck of a starship. Captain Zender Kline looked to his XO, as the two men turned away, and began to walk to the exit. "How many more?" Kline asked, as another Boatswain call sounded in the background. The XO produced the clipboard from under his arm, and looked to the roster, reciting it to Kline. "We've got five more shuttles for our ship... that'll bring us up to the full ten. The others are being sent to the Maj Tauri." the XO explained. Kline shook his head, as he sighed, delivering his reply. "They've already paid in full?" he asked, pausing for a second, to look back to the distant shuttle, as the last of the pilgrims stepped off, and another Boatswain call sounded. "Aye, that they have, Sir." the XO replied. Kline nodded slightly, in resignation to the situation. "Well then... fair be it, I s'pose." he began, softly. "Soon'r we get underway, the better... the Sal Caltanis is a military vessel... not a passenger transport. And I'm not comfortable with those Arnish... I don't think the crew'll be takin' a likin' to them easily." he stated, looking back to his XO. "Well, Sir, Command wants us to provide protection for them. It may be charter duty, but money is money, and theirs is as good as anyone's. 'Long as they're payin', not much we can be doin' 'bout it. From the looks of it, they'll be needin' military protection... they've got a caravan of thirty ships goin' on this journey of theirs." the XO replied. "Aye." Kline began. "Speakin' of which... when do the other transports arrive in orbit?" he asked. "The fleet should be in formation by late tomorrow eve." the XO began. "The last two ships are still on the surface, taking on the last of the passengers... the Enoch Star, and the... Sepia Moon." he added. Kline nodded silently, as he again resumed walking, along with his XO, towards the exit. GLADMYSTON GLENN - EMILON The bright noontime sun shone down on the lush and vibrant green hills of the small village, as two starships sat landed on the hill, dwarfing the small houses, and providing quite an unusual contrast to the wooden sailing ships that gently drifted along the water of Gladmyston Harbor, in the distant background, as a few shuttles dotted the clear blue sky, making a final run from the surface, to the starships waiting in orbit. EMILONIAN TRANSPORT SHIP "SEPIA MOON" The modest transport ship sat tall on the hill, its dark-rust colored hull partially blotting out the sunlight, as a line of pilgrims walked up the steps to the entrance of the ship, carrying many large cases and bags of belongings and personal effects. At the foot of the stairs, an aged man with a long gray beard stood, welcoming the pilgrims aboard. As the line of pilgrims walked up to the ship, Eliza Winnow looked up ahead of her, sighing, as she negotiated the weight of all the belongings she was carrying. She brought the back of her left hand to her brow, to wipe some sweat away, as she squinted from looking into the sunlight. Suddenly, a man's hand placed itself gently on Eliza's right shoulder, and she looked, to see another aged man, tall and thin, also with a long white-gray beard. But she knew this man... "Let me help you with those." the man said softly, as he took one set of bags from Eliza. "Jebra! I was hopin' I'd be seein' you." Eliza began. "I thought you were goin' on the Providence?" she asked. "Aye, as did I... but she'd had her fill, so they sent me here... to the Sepia Moon." Jebra began. "To be sayin' the truth, I'm surprised to be seein' you here... I didn't think you'd be goin' with us. Couldn't believe it when your fair mother told me of it." he added. "Aye, well... one thing you ought know 'bout my fair mother Glynnis Winnow... once her mind's been made 'bout a thing... best for you to not go arguin' with her." Eliza replied, looking to Jebra with a slight smile. "So it's on your mother's account that you're goin'?" Jebra asked. "No... not entirely." Eliza began. "I mean, I love the Book of the Word and all... but my mother has a point... Lassen and her are too old to be makin' a journey of this many yahrens... best I go in their stead... gives her and my father a chance to spend some good time together, to themselves. I'm just hopin' that this journey won't be entirely uneventful... I'd like to have one or two interesting stories to tell them, when we return." she added. Jebra smiled, as he nodded, looking into Eliza's eyes. "Well, your heart be at ease, Eliza... your dear folks'll be fine, and so will you. You Winnows are made of tough stuff." he offered, as Eliza smiled back at him, allowing a chuckle to escape. "Besides... we've got our Father Ethem leadin' our way... what could go wrong?" he added, as both he and Eliza now began to move forward, towards the stairs to the Sepia Moon. EMILONIAN TRANSPORT SHIP "SEPIA MOON" With a loud rush of the thrusters, the transport ship kicked up a vast cloud of dust, as it rose into the air, as the Enoch Star followed suit behind it, and both ships began to angle away from the green grassy hills of Gladmyston Glenn, as they flew into the sky over the ocean and Gladmyston Harbor, the dozens of tall sailing ships but small brown and white specks in the deep blue sea. TO BE CONTINUED...
RAGTAG FAMILY - "Life Is But A Dream" (PILOT) CONTINUED... This has all happened before... and will happen again... CLYMIAN COMMANDSTAR The large ship held position over the globe of the Earth, as a few wings of Clymian Stalkers sailed by the ship, flying CAP. CONTROL ROOM A thin line of bright white light sliced along the floor of the cavernous and dark room, as the line grew wider... a door was opening. A second later, a single Clymian Centurion, a chrome model, walked into the room, the loud metallic clanking of its feet echoing throughout the space. The Centurion looked upwards to the top of the tall platform, from which the Commandstar's Valorious Leader stood, controlling the ship, as it integrated itself with the ship's computer mainframe. The Valorious Leaders of the Commandstars were the same "feminine" Centurion models as the ones that had been for whatever reason, dreaming, on Earth. The Centurion's red scanning eye roved from right to left, with a menacing and reverberating drone, as it addressed the Valorious Leader. "Reporting as instructed." the Centurion said, with a deep and low robotic voice. After a long moment, the Valorious Leader appeared, looking down from the platform above. "I am ready to proceed." the Leader replied, in a feminine robotic voice. "Once it is done, you will wipe all records of the order and the event, from your memory. Is that clear?" it asked, as the Leader's own scanner roved from right to left. Usually, a Centurion would reply to an order by stating "As you command". But this time, the Centurion merely nodded its "head" in silent understanding, as it stepped forward one step, and reached for its large rifle, which it brought up, and aimed directly at the Valorious Leader. "Execute." the Leader ordered. The last thing this particular Valorious Leader ever saw, were the loud boom of the rifle being fired, and the bright light of the weapon firing, as the Centurion fired from below. WASHINGTON, D.C. - EARTH 4 DAYS BEFORE THE DESTRUCTION OF EARTH THE PENTAGON The large five-sided building sat across the river, as the large alabaster Washington Monument stood tall in the distance, while a couple spacecraft sailed slowly in the skies over the city. CLYMIAN MAINTENANCE LABORATORY A technician in a white lab coat pulled the white sheet off of the wrecked remains of a Clymian Centurion... a Valorious Leader, as a handful of military Generals looked the "dead" Clymian over. The Centurion looked like it had been shot to hell... something big and powerful killed it... another Clymian rifle. Finally, one of the Generals spoke up, looking to the lab tech. "What happened?" the General asked. "Well," the tech began, "So far as we can determine, this unit was destroyed by another Centurion. But as you know, the Centurions can't fire on a superior, unless explicitly ordered to do so, either from a human superior, or a Clymian superior." he stated. The General looked surprised, as he shared looks with the other Generals, before looking back to the tech. "This is the fifth D'AN'A unit to experience problems, and somehow manage to terminate itself." the General began, looking to the other Generals again. "This may be a symptom of something greater... could point to some fundamental flaw in the model's design. I recommend we suspend the remaining D'AN'A units from active service, until the problem is dealt with, and fixed." he offered, firmly. "With all respect, Gary, you're talking about pulling over a thousand Digital Authority Node Automatons off the line, and reassigning standard Centurions to assume command responsibilities, not to mention that the Commandstar fleet is run by these things. If they get pulled, how will the Commandstars be operated?" one of the other Generals asked. "Well, before you make your final decision... there's something you should see... or hear, rather." the tech began, as the eyes of all the Generals followed him to the steel table, where the voicebox of the now-dead D'AN'A unit was, hooked up to a single speaker. "we were able to retrieve the very last seconds of data this unit ever processed... before it went offline for good, it uttered a single sentence." he added, as he switched on the voicebox, and the Generals all reacted, as the sound of the D'AN'A unit's voice was piped through the speaker... "There is something beautiful between life and death." it stated, as all the Generals reacted, looking to each other, in confusion. Finally, the lead General looked back to the tech, his face wearing a look of reluctant resolve. "Yeah... pull the entire line, and put 'em in storage." the General ordered, as he took his hat out from under his right arm, and placed it back upon his head, as he turned, to leave the room with the other Generals, leaving the tech alone, to look after the dead D'AN'A unit. TO BE CONTINUED...
^ Thanks. And yeah... this arc will answer some questions that were left with BSG, and also with "Urantia". We know that the Clymians that Cavil had built turned on the Cylons, and reactivated one of the 3's, but we never knew exactly why, or why the Clymians called D'Ana "Valorious Leader"... but we soon will. We'll also begin to understand why the 3's were intentionally trying to kill themselves, and why the 3 from the rebel Basestar decided to remain on nuked Earth, among the remains of the Clymians past. EDIT: A side note, relating to artwork... Ice-Dragon, of Sci Fi Meshes, has been kind enough to accept an invitation from me to design the Vallahar Repository, the Colonial munitions depot orbiting Leonis that was featured in the story, when the Urantia arrived back at the Colonies. I'll post his work here, when it's available. There will also be more coming with Pythia.