Croft's Ark Part 1

Eric Croft sat at his desk deep in the bowels of the Blue Dwarf, a bowie knife dug down into the wood. A black leather bound book, Eric’s journal, lay open on the table and a small note detailing the faults in the Temporal Field. The room was small, barely big enough to contain the desk, and was poorly lit. Power to the systems down on the lower decks had been slowly dwindling in the past few years and Eric was aware that soon his people would begin to complain. His job as a LEO was no longer top priority, ridding the ship of tyranny was now his life motive. Eric had long since abandoned his care of the JMC and building the Ark was now more important. Eric flipped through the book, catching glimpses of his past entries, accounts of his life in attempting to help the people leave the ship. It was also full of stories he had heard others tell of those days. Eric liked to think of the book as a chronicle to life in the Lower Decks. It all started so long ago. Eric began to fall into a daydream, replaying his life as he saw it. It was always one day that he took the longest in thought on- the completion of the Ark and it was not long ago, only two weeks. It was a cold day, now that Eric remembered.
The heaters were down again. The temperature had dropped to around minus one and Eric’s breath would’ve plumed in front of him had he not been dead. Faramir, the only qualified mechanic, lay underneath an electric generator, spanners and hammers in a neat row at his side. He whistled a little song as he worked. He was wrapped in a massive coat to keep warm, the Blue Dwarf badge emblazoned on the breast. Eric hovered over the man, inspecting the work. It was early in the day and Eric was unsure if Faramir was fully awake. So he kept watch just in case something went wrong and he would know who to blame.
“Look, Eric,” cried Faramir from under the generator, “you can smeg off. I had 3 cups of coffee before I started, you know.” Eric didn’t say anything but felt rather hurt that his attempt in ensuring the safety of others was being frowned upon. Faramir continued whistling his little song and Eric walked away.
The generator room was a small closet compared to the main hanger where everyone in the Roahn Hold worked and some even lived there. It was so big that some people felt unwell after trying to stand in it. It was designed to house a large fleet of Blue Midgets and Starbugs for the lower decks but Eric, being the leader that no-one remembered choosing, had order the dismantlement of every craft to build what he called The Ark. The people would have dismissed this as a crazed man’s fantasy but Eric had done such an excellent job in locating sources of food, water and power that most followed his word without question. Most. Denethor, the leading representative of the Gondor Hold in the south areas, constantly disagreed with anything Eric planned or did. At every meeting of the Council he disputed claims that Eric was doing good for the city and spread slander about him, calling him a tyrant (something Eric responded to quite explosively), a smeg-head and other petty things. Denethor even hated his sons, Faramir and Boromir, working near Eric. The only thing the two agreed in was the construction of the Ark. But Eric paid no mind to Denethor, his Hold was frowing smaller and many of them moved to Rohan, Eric’s hold, or to the Shire which was governed by Eric’s good friend Samwise Gamgee. And it was Samwise that now walked slowly over to Eric, Samwise resplendent in his cloak.
“Good morning, Eric!” cried Samwise, marvelling at the object the dominated the hanger. Eric turned and looked in the direction Samwise’s eyes stared. It hadn’t occurred to Eric to check on the progress of the Ark yet. But now that he looked at it with Samwise, who stood next to him, he could see that it was nearing completion. Hundreds of people moved across the surface of the partially built ship like ants on a rock.
“It truly is a marvel, Eric,” said Samwise. Eric silently agreed.
“Anyway,” said Eric, breaking his stare, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Oh, yes. The Stargate Research is ready for your inspection,” said Samwise casually.
“Very well,” said Eric. It was common that Eric had to inspect the Stargate Research every week, “Tell Gimli that I will be there at 2300, I have many more things to do before then.”
As Eric finished talking a large hum grew from the sides of the walls. The noise began unbearably loud before it stopped abruptly. From the generator room Faramir walked out, stripping of the coat to reveal the Red Engineering Shirt he wore proudly.
“The heating’s fixed!” cried Faramir happily. Eric waved over at Faramir to show his thanks. Eric and Samwise parted ways and Eric began to walk to the Foreman’s office in the far side of the hanger.