The Celeste: Smoke on the Water
The
wintery and lucid fog rolled out across the horizon as a war fleet heads out
across the raging seas, but the Celeste
isn’t associated to the unlikely vermin.
She speeds heroically away from the hellish fleet, but is halted at the
edge of the bay; a gateway from under the shadow of her oppression. The
National Guard venomously asks for the hand of the beautiful Celeste for the war, intending to ravage
and use her. The crew selfishly refuses to allow such assimilation; strategic
value is mere vanity in their eyes.
Grabbing
the radio and declaring, “Why should we hand over that which is rightfully ours
to benefit a meaningless war some degenerate bastard in Washington has wrought
upon us?” as a single warning is fired rapidly at a nearby Destroyer.
“It’s
for the public good! The innocent masses must be kept safe and secure!
Nevertheless, such inquisitive about the ethical positions of our
democratically elected leaders is treasonous and deplorable!” arrives a snappy
response from a morally castrated officer, “Simply, democracy is as it chooses;
the place of the citizen is neither in the house of doubt, nor in the place of
such accusatory positioning”
Understanding
that a military man, who has spent his life mindlessly worshipping chains, will
not listen to the reasons of a common lowlife sea captain and to defend sacred
justice issues commands; subjugation is not for this day. She brings the Law of gods and men upon their
frothy bows. Clarity of destiny breaks through as the fated crew springs into
action, launching magnificent birds into the sky while hailing the National
Guard with a barrage of lead needles. Air reinforcements arrive from a nearby
military base like demons of subterranean origin as the Celeste swims towards the gaping mouth of the bay; for only there
does salvation from enemies lie, a lonesome hope for humanity. Half a dozen
ships lie between the two souls as the clock is ticks towards the oncoming oblivion.
Suddenly
on the radio, a victorious voice cries out, “The way is cleared, full speed
ahead.” In the fog, local watermen formed a final coalition to work for the
endless goal of sabotaging the plans of the Government. Four of six ships are
slain by glorious explosives laid in the very heart of the destructive ones. A
final breath and the Celeste sends a
ship to the Abyss. Meanwhile a gunned down air force pilot careens to an
untimely demise inside the final blockade ship. Pulling out of the bay and into
open water, the hum of the remaining planes fades into the distance as the sun
grows low in the sky. One by one the fighters return to the ship as their
wounds stack up. The crew checks their many precious passengers, their final
prayers for righteousness. Backwards lays a war fleet still giving chase,
waiting for the hunt to renew in vigor. The fallen fleet has halted their
commanded progression for a mere hour at the very least. A mournful song issues
forth from a single small child as she watches the waves dance rhythmically
upon a sea of glass. All wits are rattled and confined to their own labyrinths
of pain and worry. A blackhearted cry from undesirables deemed false by
arbitrary aims for the sake of peoples unrelated. The stability of solid
firmaments is passed for the virtue of opportunity. Behind the veil of the deep
a danger lies hidden. Slowly, the nuclear threat sinks its fangs into the hull
of Celeste, her skin torn by its
passionate fires. Crippled and stricken she lays overcome and sunk all along;
time and space relent for the procession of angels from her lofty ideals. The
mandate of heaven passes as the cycle of eternity is broken. Shattered now is
the icy mirror of tradition under the weight of this clairvoyant disease. Peace
restored, the people served, hail victors! These are the days the soul of man
is conquered and freedom from dreams is the gift for all.
The
officer watches salvage crews take back precious metals from the wreckage. No
sign could be allowed to be found of the tragedy for the sake of national
security. Imagine if the country knew of the military’s actions here, a
sinister spark of hope could be lit by the knowledge of these drowned villains.
Antisocials, a plague upon the earth, they deserve it all for their dissent.
There is no need for warmongers or malcontents in the modern age. The poets
will be silenced forever this time. The pendulum of the power structure stopped
to ensure peace. Their stories must be washed away. The officer ponders this
for there is no rationalization for the things that cannot be justified. Not
that it matters, a hamegin of such insignificance is a mere pawn in the game.
Nothing could be changed for in this world beyond good and evil; people always
kiss that which drags them further into the abyss.
Now
a ghost in the face of history, the remains
of the Celeste sinks into the blue.
She lies without her identity in the depths of Atlantis, surrounded by the
beings that call it their home. In her belly remain the bodies of those
precious in this world; forever together in paradise.
Understanding
the mission objective to be lost, the dutiful fleet headed to the charred
remains of their brethren. A light film coated the water from the soot and oil
of the ships that once battled here. A new goal is brought to the table, a
final retribution for justice; the blindfolds revealed and the scale tilted to
the favor of the glorious victors.
Decidedly, vengeance would be wreaked upon the unholy rebels; deprived
of their bildungsroman
forever. The scum of the earth, traitors, tax evaders,
and cop killers, are all a cancer to society and they are the harbingers of
death. Efforts are raised for the surviving fleetsmen to assist in the capturing of the fugitives.
The media declares an ongoing search for domestic terrorists as the military
police begin knocking down doors one at a time. None are spared. Dissenters are
shot. Walls are built; a quarantine of hatred and violence. Across the country,
the railroads long predicted to return begin to purr to life.
