RotL audition

          A small cargo ship, newly painted crimson, its name emblazoned in bright white lettering, cut through the late afternoon sea, racing against the quickly falling sun in search of somewhere sheltered to dock for the night. Though the ship was well equipped with the proper lighting, actually turning it on after such a narrow escape would mean only one thing: capture. And to the crew of Bombastic capture was just as good as death.
          Captain Russel Campbell stood at the wheel, working hard to keep his eyes focused on the ocean ahead of him, even as his thoughts wandered wildly across time and space to the way things had been Before. Before his house had been burned to the ground. Before they shot is dog in the gut and left her to die slowly. Before his ship had become a vessel of war. If he allowed it, he could easily lose himself in his anger, but it seemed he was destined instead to be swallowed by his depression. He had lost everything, and he could see, even in the ghostly reflection of himself in the glass of the helm, that he was looking more haggard by the day. His eyes were lost to the heavy shadow cast by the visor of his captain's cap, premature wrinkles stretched across his skin, and the corners of his mouth sagged. It had been at least a year since a true smile had fought its way onto his lips.
         He hissed a curse under his breath, and rested his weight backwards into the bowl of his hips.
         "Sir!" He was suddenly pulled from his thoughts by the appearance of Connor, hanging onto the door frame and trying to catch his breath. "Sir, I can't tell you how, but the Hellbounds have found us and are gainin' fast." He paused, trying to fill his lungs, "Dekker estimates we got fifteen minutes, tops."
         Russel's mind was suddenly reeling. They'd finally shaken the Hellbounds off their trail little more than four hours ago. How the hell had the managed to catch up so quickly? He opened his mouth to bark commands, but was rudely interrupted by a brash voice laced with the mechanical twang of the intercom.
        "RUSSEL!"
         He glanced at Connor, silently instructing the man not to move a muscle, and then slammed his hand on the com to reply. "Willi-"
        "The engines are failin' fast, Russ. I can't seem to stabilize the -- Oh shit."
        Her voice trailed off, and through the corner of his eye, Russel was all too aware of the apprehensive expression that had just exploded over Connor's dark face. "Talk to me Willi," he coaxed, "don't leave me hangin' here!"
         It took a moment for Willi to reply, "You best get down here... now." Her voice sounded small and distant, two traits that Willi Campbell did not possess.
         With no time for pleasantries, Russel wiped the cold sweat from beneath his hat, and dashed from the helm, yelling to Connor over his shoulder, "Take the wheel!" He was vaguely aware of Connor's affirmative reply and then he added as he ran, "and start prayin'!"

***

        The sound of the engines was something that Russel had grown particularly accustomed to in the past few years. The smell of diesel, the hum of the pipes, the roar of the massive pistons propelling the huge weight of the ship forward. Of course, a captain knew the ins and outs of his ship just as well as he knew his own body, but since Willi had come aboard, the engines seemed to sing.
        Today they sputtered and groaned.
        Russel was doubled over, his hands pressed against his knees as he tried to fill his lungs properly. He had run so hard to get here from the helm that his breath came to him in short rasps, and he coughed deep chest coughs that caught in his throat.
        "That's what you get for smoking so damn much." That was Willi, her deep alto voice just as sharp as always.
        "You wanna - cough - tell me what the hell is going on?" Russel snapped back, at last dragging himself upright.
        Willi bit her lower lip, giving her a particularly severe look. "You'd better take a look for yourself." She finally said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate a direction. She then turned, rendering her gesture pointless, and began to lead her brother to the area in question.
        Everything looked in order as they walked. There was nothing broken, nothing leaking, nothing needlessly steaming. And then they rounded a corner and there it was, or rather, there it wasn't. Where there should have been a rack of particularly well-oiled pistons there was a rather large blue... nothing. It swirled and glowed and gurgled a kind of unnerving silent gurgle that ran chills up and down Russel's spine.
       His jaw dropped.
       "That wasn't there a minute-and-a-half ago." Willi said, crossing her arms across her chest.
       Words were trying to make their way from Russel's brain to his mouth, but turned instead to strange whimpering noises. He had to slam his jaw shut, clear his throat properly and then try again. "When you told me the engines were failing, I didn't register you meant they weren't there at all!" Had his mind been blown a little less he probably would have been embarrassed at how readily his voice cracked.
       And then he stared, completely encapsulated by the swirling... well, he couldn't exactly come up with a word for the thing. "Vortex" jumped to mind, but that just sounded like a bad scifi movie, and he hadn't watched one of those since Before.
        He absently reached out a hand, suddenly compelled to touch this thing that threatened every life aboard his ship. Touch it, feel it, own it.
        "Russel Campbell," Willi said sternly, "Don't you dare touch that damn thing. Russel. Are you hearing me?"
        His fingers touched, and for a moment he thought he could see the entire span of the universe. Everything seemed so clear and so messed up all at once.
        The thing was eating his arm. A muffled sound of alarm sounded from Willi's direction and dragged Russel back to the here and now and he was suddenly washed with panic. He struggled pulling back, but the thing must have been related to a Chinese finger trap because it seemed the more he struggled the harder it pulled at his arm. Instinct overrode intellect and he found himself thrashing against it, kicking it, punching it, and getting sucked in by every last one of his limbs.
         He managed to call for Willi once, just as he was swallowed whole.
        "Oh shit. Oh hell. Oh @&%$!" Willi stood in shocked disbelief. She's seen a lot of weird shit since the beginning of the Alout war, but watching her brother being eaten alive by something - er, nothing - was more than she could handle. Her mechanical mind was already working out the probability of the Hellbounds being responsible.
        "Screw it," she added several choice swear words, and then turned to the closest engineer. "Give me your drill, Duncan. This is going to get ugly."
         Duncan, older than Willi by at least a decade, obeyed, lost in horrified fascination.
        The heavy black drill was comfortable in her hand. She smiled at it, and then looked back to Duncan, her eyes full of energy. "Find a way to fix -" she glanced at the thing, trying to find a word, "this. And, for shit's sake, don't touch it!"
         She turned, took and deep breath, and ran like hell, her legs pulling her at full speed straight through the nothing.
         Duncan watched in silence as the thing hungrily swallowed the chief engineer, and then disappeared just as suddenly as it had come. The Hellbounds were getting good. That was for sure.

***

         Russel was suddenly shoved from his feet flat onto his face as Willi ran into appearance behind him. He landed with a hard audible thump, catching his weight painfully on his elbows, and his Captain's cap was sent reeling several feet in the air.
         His sister collected herself faster than he could manage, and jumped to her feet. "What the hell was that, Russel Campbell!?" she howled. "You know better than to go around touching my shit in my engines. You could have melted your damn hand off. Then what. I don't think Craig has extra hands hanging around... Are you listening to me?"
        Russel was still on the floor, staring past her, trying to make sense of what his eyes beheld. Something huge and imposing that looked like a sad imitation of a human body stood motionless behind her. It's face, something like one of those new colour televisions, stared with red eyes.
       "What are you -"
        He pointed, cutting Willi short as she spun around in the direction of his finger. "What the hell are you supposed to be?" She spat.
       The robot blinked, its television eyes intelligent and calculating.
        "You are aboard the Republic ship Leviathan." It said, emotionlessly. "Infinity," it gestured toward some awful looking robot standing off in the distance, "has reached across the span of the universe to make to you a proposal."
        Russel blinked and scrambled to his feet. So, this was a bad scifi movie, after all.
       Willi pulled at the trigger of her drill, sending the bit spinning in loud angry rotations. "A proposal?" She definitely wasn't convinced.
       "The Leviathan is in bad need of repair. A series of tasks shall be presented to you and with the others," the robot indicated several other discombobulated peoples milling around the huge hall behind it, "you shall help put us back on course."
       Willi made an impatient sound.
        "Look here, buddy," Russel croaked, finally finding his voice. "We ain't got the time to mess around in your rocket ship. I've got a ship of men back home with fifteen minutes before they become mince meat. I need to fix my ship. Yours can damn-well wait!"
        He stepped forward, leaned over and snatched up his cap, slamming it meaningfully back over his messy dark hair.
        Willi nodded, a crooked smile pulled across her lips.
        "Infinity will reward those who please him," the robot turned, as though tiring of a long and pointless conversation. "He who pleases the Rupublic the most will be returned to his home time with one advantage: the ability to change any one thing in said person's past."
        Russel's heart made an attempt to leap from his mouth. "Willi," he whispered desperately, "the war!"
        Willi whirred her drill once more time, rested it on her shoulder and blinked, her mind weighing the pros and cons. She shrugged, "Where do we sign?"