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Lieutenant Idel Ritaly

Captain of the Onyx's marine squadron.

0 · 211 views · located in The Onyx

a character in “Temporal Conscripts”, as played by Screedle

Description

Acting captain of the Onyx's squadron, Lt. Ritaly always follows Commander Viridin's orders to the letter, allowing no slack or deviation. However, his eagerness to exert his full potential has slowly filled him with regret for staying with the Onyx.

So begins...

Lieutenant Idel Ritaly's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Lieutenant Idel Ritaly
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Fritswick was led around the Onyx by both Sophie, and a man wearing bulky attire, carrying a box-shaped item with intricate detail - Fritswick could tell that this had to be some sort of weapon, perhaps a gun, making him a guard. The guard seemed to be more focused on Fritswick than Sophie, who seemed lost in her own thoughts.
Fritswick had just under a minute to contemplate what he could need to see now; perhaps someone else had followed him to this place and time? Or perhaps they had found an explanation as to why he was here. In either case, he found himself less occupied with the details of his situation, and more concerned about what would be required of him.
At this point they passed the threshold to the bridge, no door separating it from the corridor, only another guard that nodded in affirmation to the other one.
The bridge was smaller than Fritswick had anticipated; he had imagined something like the deck of a ship, dozens of workers scurrying to and fro between sides, either manning the sails or shovelling coal to power engines. He was surprised by the room being around the same size as his living room, the captain's chair and desk taking up the centre of the room.
The walls at either side were occupied by similar desks, most of them equipped with a similar 'computer' to the one in the med bay, displaying information Fritswick had no chance of comprehending.
Above the captain's desk was some sort of glass pane hanging from the ceiling - occasionally, words and phrases would jump on and off the glass, all of them labelling different aspects of an image on-screen of what appeared to be a big, black box.

"Lieutenant Victors," said Viridin, looking at Fritswick. "Anything else unusual about our POI?"
"None, sir; he really is just a man pulled out of his time." she replied.
"Mister Fritswick," he began. "Could you please tell me what you think of this?"
Viridin tapped on the black cube in the centre of the glass screen; the text disappeared, and the image became much larger. Slowly, the cube began to rotate, making its three dimensional detail more apparent.
After a moment of contemplation, in which he intensely glared at the image, Fritswick gave up.
"I'm afraid I could tell you nothing about it," he said. "I've never seen a box quite like that. What size is it?"
"Several metres in every direction," Viridin replied. "Around 25 cubic metres of space. It's a cargo module - a basic one, at that. Tell me this; what do you think would be inside this container, out here in dead space?"
"It would be hard to say," Fritswick replied. "Perhaps... gems? Illegally obtained gems, or perhaps currency, that they want kept hidden until it's safe?"
"An astute guess," Viridin replied. "However, we have determined that it has a self-contained life support system. In simple terms, people could be living inside there. Why would people be inside a storage container?"
Fritswick hesitated to answer.
"...Slaves? Or perhaps traitorous crew deserving of eternal isolation."
The commander hesitated for a moment before responding.
"You're an intelligent man, Fritswick. Are you sure you have no idea what's inside?"
"None, sir. Couldn't tell you anything, only guessing."

"Commander, incoming message from Lieutenant Ritaly." a communications officer said.
"Put it through."
The image of a soldier wearing a face-concealing helmet appeared on-screen.
"Commander, our shuttle is currently attempting to lock on to the container, but we cannot find an accessible port. Should we proceed with procedure Oh-Five-Oh?"
"Go ahead; access it through any means necessary, even if it means cutting into it. Any unusual readings?"
"I was about to mention that, sir; we're having trouble getting a fixed reading on whatever is inside - some part of the life support seems to be deliberately interfering with the scanners."
"Continue regardless; remember to treat it as a potential biohazard."
"Understood sir."
The communication channel disappeared from view. Viridin spoke to the screen above him.
"Onyx, prepare the decontamination gas for their return. Also, give me minute-by-minute updates on the shuttle's status, including all crew and life forms therein."
Viridin turned on the spot, facing Fritswick directly. Fritswick had been silently observing, working out internally what all of the strange terms meant.
"Fritswick, are you sure you don't know anything?"
"Like I said, I know nothing here."
"Sir," Sophie interjected. "Are you sure that the container is related to Mr Fritswick?"
Viridin seemed taken aback briefly - he became aware of his increasing lack of composure.
"They have to be," he stated. "If the Guild is involved, we can't assume anything is a coincidence."
"Commander," the man sitting at the science station said. "We're... getting an unusual reading from... within the ship."