Left Behind... AGAIN

<OOC - I know Plisken was tagged in proteus.amoeba42's post but he never said or did anything so I decided to ignore it and do something different (mainly becuase I want to use some things in this post that I could other wise). Okay, rant over>

Plisken strode through the ruins of the outpost, specifically what seemed to be the research and development sector. He had been dumped here by the raging torrent of water, separated from the rest of the crew – a trend that was becoming all too favourable with the universe. He had at least expected to bump into someone but nope. The universe in its infinite wisdom had decided to leave him in what was probably the most dangerous sector of the outpost. Not that the outpost was that dangerous compared to some of his earlier escapades: The Battle of the Medusa Cascade, The Hinterlands, The Planet New London Riots, The Q-Bomb Fallout. But he was a younger man then. Plisken felt his age heavily, he rested against a wall and propped his rifle up next to him. It was a marvellous device, the rifle. Long and slender, worn but not broken, old but not outdated. He had refused to accept a more modern weapon from the Blue Dwarf’s armoury, explaining that the stock of a Plasma Weapon would break when clubbing some-one over the head but the old rifle could beat a man’s brain out and still work. Very useful. And it was bolt action. The .50 Calibre Semi-Plasma shells that the rifle used required the use of bolt action mechanisms for reason known only to the creators. Plisken slung the rifle over his shoulder and continued on. The Hit Marks were behind him, too close for comfort. Plisken had met them before, admittedly in earlier models. Back then you could actually hit them with bullets.
This area seemed to have been deserted by the Roo, probably called to escape or fight the other Humans that had invaded their outpost. Plisken could hear the gun fire of other crewmates as they fought the good fight. Sometimes the occasionally shout of ‘FEEDING FRENZY’ drifted through the ventilation ducts, letting Plisken know that his favourite surfing MACO and his ‘babe’ were still alive.
A huge circular metal door broke the boring surface of the long flat wall. It was sealed tight, heavy too. It just screamed to be opened. Above it was a sign that read: ‘Gateroom’. The sign only served to heighten Plisken’s curiosity. What would been inside? A store room of wooden gates? Iron Gates? A shrine dedicated to Bill? Beside the door was a panel of buttons and scanners, a red light indicating that the door was locked securely. The lock required a four digit pin number, a hand print scan and a retinal scan to open. This was going to require all of Plisken’s computing knowledge, his skill in hacking and his general intelligence. Plisken smashed the but of his rife against the panel. Sparks fizzled from the electronic workings and it made a horrific screeching sound. But the red light turned to green with a delightful ping. Huge door shifted backwards and rolled to the side, granting access to the ‘Gateroom’.
Plisken was thoroughly disappointed. The Gateroom was a large open hanger area contained a strange, shimering portal and a mess of computing hidden behind glass. There was also what seemed to be star chart or something similar on the wall. Various numbers and letters were attributed to some of the dots but their meanings were lost to Plisken. White Wolf or Cass would probably know or maybe Artemis.
A small beep came from his coat pocket. Plisken stopped, secretly glad of the break, and dug deep into his pockets searching for the small communicator. He had no idea on how to use the thing, all the crazy buttons and the confusing display prevented Plisken from using it to call anybody but he could read messages fine. Artemis had sent one before, something about the cure in the vault. Plisken had though about going for it but the location of ‘the vault’ was a mystery. But this one seemed to be detailing that everyone had made for the exit and dissapeared. Again. The message said things like red sector and things. Plisken glanced around. The room was ‘decorated’ with a red band around the edges of the wall. And he remembered seeing a 21 when he was running from the Hit Marks. So this was probably it. Plisken walked behind the glass to the mess of computing, lots of screens and wires attached to a round dais with symbols and buttons. But most importantly there was a chair. The computers were giving read outs that the portal had been used recently. Guess they hadn't even bothered to wait. Did they think he was there with them? Plisken sighed and fixed his hat. The portal shimmered contently. Plisken strode up to the portal and forced himself in.

Now, no one had told Plisken of the strange and wonderful things that happed when you step through this kind of portal. Plisken felt himself drift in a cold and empty void, a space devoid of anything. But slowly appeared a room. No it wasn't a room but a bridge, the bridge of a space ship. It was the bridge of the Indefatigable, his old ship. As the room setteled into a solid state, Plisken slowly drifted to the floor and stood infront of the captain's chair. The deck was empty save for one other man. Himself. Sitting on the captain's chair was a younger, earlier version of himself. Or it might actually be an older and later version just that he looked younger but thinking like that only complicates things. He was completly still, not moving or breathing. Plisken looked around, feeling like he remembered this place, this time. He snapped his metal fingers as the thought came to him. This was the last time he captained the ship, taking it on a dangerous suicide mission on the orders of Brittany. He had orderd the crew to leave, Plisken remaning behind. He was a different man back then. A foolish man. The image slowly faded away, the black void returning. Then it was gone completly.

Plisken felt the harsh texture of stone as he woke from his stange dream. The air tasted dry, like in a desert.

Plisken learnt years later that when stepping through one of those shimmering portals that you seem to 'meet you creator'. Plisken had only seen himself. Guess that meant he was his own creator. He had made him who he was.