Oro
Notes- this takes place probably during Season 3. I'm trying my hand at a 'normal' X-File case. I don't know how much (if any) MSR there will be. I actually thought up this story's premise separate of the X-Files, but when I thought it over, it seemed like it would make a good XF. BTW, 'Oro' is Spanish for gold- I tried to think up a title like a real XF episode. This is just the intro, so MS don't come in yet. Enough of my rambling, enjoy the story, Your pal, The Guy Who Wrote This Story
Disclaimer- a lot of people have already thought up witty ways to answer this. I'll just say the X-Files and related characters aren't my property. You'll notice characters of my own imagination right away.
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"Gold is a treasure, and he who possesses it does all he wishes to in this world, and succeeds in helping souls into paradise." Christopher Columbus
Chapter 1:
Lost With All Hands
Off the Florida Coast. 1536.
The Heavens opened up and poured forth Hell. Admiral Diego de Cabrera stared at the shadowy sky in a vain attempt to soothe the heaving seas. To no avail. The sea continued its vicious pounding of the once proud capitana of the Tierra Firma Fleet. The galleon's sides heaved and buckled with each massive blow. When you live your life at sea, you can tell when a ship's death is near, and de Cabrera knew his ship's time was up.
"Ready the longboat!" de Cabrera called to his Mate.
Only the longboat carried only 50 people. That would leave a lot of the 400 people on board treading water. If he could-
A sickening crunch jarred de Cabrera from his thoughts. The ship had run aground on a reef.
*No!* de Cabrera thought, *No! Pissarro promised me untold wealth! I cannot fail now!*
De Cabrera rushed for his cabin. He would complete his mission yet. The King would receive Pissarro's chest. The deck was awash with water, debris, and panicked people. De Cabrera pushed past all of them. He had to deliver the chest, he had to-
De Cabrera was in such a rush he did not notice the topmast had broken. When it fell from atop and piled into the masses below, de Cabrera was crushed instantly. He would not have his riches.
The galleon was in its death throws. It had broken its back on the reef, and now the thundering seas were grinding the planks to kindling. Chaos ensued on the main deck. Men, women, and children gasped for a rare but of air, and searched frantically for loved ones. Someone burst open a chest of gold escudos, sharing willingly to all around him in his final moments. Priests tried to take people's confessions and absolve them of them of lifetimes of bad deeds. The waves impassively pounded on.
One last shudder shook through the galleon's tired frame. Then wood, cargo, treasure, and people were dumped to the sea. Within minutes the only traces left were some wood debris bobbing upon the sea.
-----------------------
A league away, aboard another galleon, Captain Juan Ibarra eyed the demise of the capitana with heavy heart. *Such life lost*. The storm wouldn't let up enough for him to go for survivors. All he could do was continue for Spain and notify the King of his loss of treasure. After all, that's all he would care about.
-----------------------
Off the Florida coast. 1995.
The sun hung lazily in the sky. Just another beautiful Florida sunshine day.
Don Sampson stared at the shimmering light cerulean sea. The cerulean blue seemed so placid. He found it hard to imagine the terror that had once taken place on that terrible night some 450 odd years ago. A head broke through the sparkling waves. The wet-suit-less diver swam over to the 28- foot salvage boat where Sampson stood. He spat out his mouthpiece.
"Looks like we got ourselves a little chest. Intact."
Don was surprised. In the 40 odd years he'd been diving he'd never found an intact chest on a wreck. It wasn't like in the movies: the ships broke up into thousands of pieces, the surviving planks of wood ended up under sand or eaten up by worms, most of the iron rusted away, and there were *never* any skeletons.
"Intact?" repeated Sampson, his tan frame leaning over the diver.
"Yeah, here."
The diver treaded water and pulled a small chest out of his mesh dive bag.
"It was around where we figure the Captain's cabin would be. Maybe precious cargo?"
"I'll take a look at it." Sampson said, taking the small chest.
"I'm going back under," the diver said before disappearing into the blue.
Sampson held the chest in his hand. It felt pretty heavy. Having experienced a number of salvages in his years, Sampson knew not to get his hopes up with visions of gold doubloons. Still, a chest *could* hold anything.
Sampson carried the chest to the recovery room. Since it was Sunday, most of the crew in Don's operation had the day off. He had the room to himself. Objects in various states of recovery sat in electrolytic baths. Man was trying to reverse what Nature had its mind set about finishing. Man was winning.
Sampson set the chest on a table, amid a small pile of old rusted iron spikes. The closer Sampson looked, the more the chest looked like it was in great condition for so long under the sea. Usually he would set about documenting the object recovered, but Sampson was so interested by the chest he decided he would open it now. Sampson grabbed a small hammer and screwdriver, and set about gently hammering at the hinges. Soon there was enough broken off, and Sampson lifted the lid.
Inside was a rock a bit larger than a softball. Sampson took it out of the chest and put it on the table. He stared. The rock stared back. The rock had a rough, uneven, black surface, but with several large patches of a shiny, silver, metallic substance. It appeared almost burnt to Sampson. What the hell was this? Why was it in its own chest? Sampson examined the chest. He noticed on the inside it was lined with a thick layer of lead. *That's different*.
Sampson felt a bit uneasy in his stomach around this rock. He decided to go and get a magnifying glass to get a better look at this rock. Sampson left and went rummaging through the boat.
He returned 45 minutes later, having searched everywhere, until he remembered there was one in the recovery room. Sampson picked up the magnifying glass from next to the tanks with filled with objects. He walked back to the rock. He was about to pick it up when he noticed something: a dull shine. Half of the iron spikes had turned to solid gold.
-----------------------
Vero Beach, Florida. One week later.
Sheriff Blake Easton tipped back his wide brimmed hat. He squinted at the motel building, trying to ignore the bright yellow orb in the sky.
"This the place, Jeff?"
"Sure is Sheriff," Deputy Jeff Sims replied.
They both walked from the baking parking lot into the main office. They were greeted with a salvo from a sputtering air conditioner. A tired looking woman sat at the counter.
"Afternoon ma'am," Blake started, "we're with the Sheriff's department. You called about a body?"
The tired looking women sighed, picked up a key, and handed it to Blake.
"Room 19. Go out and it's to the left. Nobody's gone into the room. We saw him through the window."
She went back to reading a magazine.
"Thank you, ma'am."
The blast of heat was even more surprising then the cool air had been. The two cops slowly trudged through the heat to Room 19. After an eternity they made it.
"Damn its hot," Jeff pointed out, wiping his brow.
They both entered the room. It was a typical, sparsely furnished motel room. A lamp on a nightstand next to the bed was turned on. They both noticed the body right away. He was seated in a chair, hands tied behind his back, head tilted back. Blake walked up to him. He saw the bloody red ring around the man's tan neck. *So he was strangled*. Blake turned and looked for some luggage. But there was nothing except a small empty box on the bed.
"Uh, Sheriff, take a look at this."
Blake walked back over to the body. Jeff had pulled down the collar on the man's Hawaiian shirt, exposing the man's tan chest. Tan except for the large part of his chest that appeared to be solid gold.
"Christ."
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Hey, this is my second story, so try to go easy on me. This is just the very beginning of this story. I hope to add on soon. Please drop me an email if you wanna talk -ME
Notes- this takes place probably during Season 3. I'm trying my hand at a 'normal' X-File case. I don't know how much (if any) MSR there will be. I actually thought up this story's premise separate of the X-Files, but when I thought it over, it seemed like it would make a good XF. BTW, 'Oro' is Spanish for gold- I tried to think up a title like a real XF episode. This is just the intro, so MS don't come in yet. Enough of my rambling, enjoy the story, Your pal, The Guy Who Wrote This Story
Disclaimer- a lot of people have already thought up witty ways to answer this. I'll just say the X-Files and related characters aren't my property. You'll notice characters of my own imagination right away.
-----------------------
"Gold is a treasure, and he who possesses it does all he wishes to in this world, and succeeds in helping souls into paradise." Christopher Columbus
Chapter 1:
Lost With All Hands
Off the Florida Coast. 1536.
The Heavens opened up and poured forth Hell. Admiral Diego de Cabrera stared at the shadowy sky in a vain attempt to soothe the heaving seas. To no avail. The sea continued its vicious pounding of the once proud capitana of the Tierra Firma Fleet. The galleon's sides heaved and buckled with each massive blow. When you live your life at sea, you can tell when a ship's death is near, and de Cabrera knew his ship's time was up.
"Ready the longboat!" de Cabrera called to his Mate.
Only the longboat carried only 50 people. That would leave a lot of the 400 people on board treading water. If he could-
A sickening crunch jarred de Cabrera from his thoughts. The ship had run aground on a reef.
*No!* de Cabrera thought, *No! Pissarro promised me untold wealth! I cannot fail now!*
De Cabrera rushed for his cabin. He would complete his mission yet. The King would receive Pissarro's chest. The deck was awash with water, debris, and panicked people. De Cabrera pushed past all of them. He had to deliver the chest, he had to-
De Cabrera was in such a rush he did not notice the topmast had broken. When it fell from atop and piled into the masses below, de Cabrera was crushed instantly. He would not have his riches.
The galleon was in its death throws. It had broken its back on the reef, and now the thundering seas were grinding the planks to kindling. Chaos ensued on the main deck. Men, women, and children gasped for a rare but of air, and searched frantically for loved ones. Someone burst open a chest of gold escudos, sharing willingly to all around him in his final moments. Priests tried to take people's confessions and absolve them of them of lifetimes of bad deeds. The waves impassively pounded on.
One last shudder shook through the galleon's tired frame. Then wood, cargo, treasure, and people were dumped to the sea. Within minutes the only traces left were some wood debris bobbing upon the sea.
-----------------------
A league away, aboard another galleon, Captain Juan Ibarra eyed the demise of the capitana with heavy heart. *Such life lost*. The storm wouldn't let up enough for him to go for survivors. All he could do was continue for Spain and notify the King of his loss of treasure. After all, that's all he would care about.
-----------------------
Off the Florida coast. 1995.
The sun hung lazily in the sky. Just another beautiful Florida sunshine day.
Don Sampson stared at the shimmering light cerulean sea. The cerulean blue seemed so placid. He found it hard to imagine the terror that had once taken place on that terrible night some 450 odd years ago. A head broke through the sparkling waves. The wet-suit-less diver swam over to the 28- foot salvage boat where Sampson stood. He spat out his mouthpiece.
"Looks like we got ourselves a little chest. Intact."
Don was surprised. In the 40 odd years he'd been diving he'd never found an intact chest on a wreck. It wasn't like in the movies: the ships broke up into thousands of pieces, the surviving planks of wood ended up under sand or eaten up by worms, most of the iron rusted away, and there were *never* any skeletons.
"Intact?" repeated Sampson, his tan frame leaning over the diver.
"Yeah, here."
The diver treaded water and pulled a small chest out of his mesh dive bag.
"It was around where we figure the Captain's cabin would be. Maybe precious cargo?"
"I'll take a look at it." Sampson said, taking the small chest.
"I'm going back under," the diver said before disappearing into the blue.
Sampson held the chest in his hand. It felt pretty heavy. Having experienced a number of salvages in his years, Sampson knew not to get his hopes up with visions of gold doubloons. Still, a chest *could* hold anything.
Sampson carried the chest to the recovery room. Since it was Sunday, most of the crew in Don's operation had the day off. He had the room to himself. Objects in various states of recovery sat in electrolytic baths. Man was trying to reverse what Nature had its mind set about finishing. Man was winning.
Sampson set the chest on a table, amid a small pile of old rusted iron spikes. The closer Sampson looked, the more the chest looked like it was in great condition for so long under the sea. Usually he would set about documenting the object recovered, but Sampson was so interested by the chest he decided he would open it now. Sampson grabbed a small hammer and screwdriver, and set about gently hammering at the hinges. Soon there was enough broken off, and Sampson lifted the lid.
Inside was a rock a bit larger than a softball. Sampson took it out of the chest and put it on the table. He stared. The rock stared back. The rock had a rough, uneven, black surface, but with several large patches of a shiny, silver, metallic substance. It appeared almost burnt to Sampson. What the hell was this? Why was it in its own chest? Sampson examined the chest. He noticed on the inside it was lined with a thick layer of lead. *That's different*.
Sampson felt a bit uneasy in his stomach around this rock. He decided to go and get a magnifying glass to get a better look at this rock. Sampson left and went rummaging through the boat.
He returned 45 minutes later, having searched everywhere, until he remembered there was one in the recovery room. Sampson picked up the magnifying glass from next to the tanks with filled with objects. He walked back to the rock. He was about to pick it up when he noticed something: a dull shine. Half of the iron spikes had turned to solid gold.
-----------------------
Vero Beach, Florida. One week later.
Sheriff Blake Easton tipped back his wide brimmed hat. He squinted at the motel building, trying to ignore the bright yellow orb in the sky.
"This the place, Jeff?"
"Sure is Sheriff," Deputy Jeff Sims replied.
They both walked from the baking parking lot into the main office. They were greeted with a salvo from a sputtering air conditioner. A tired looking woman sat at the counter.
"Afternoon ma'am," Blake started, "we're with the Sheriff's department. You called about a body?"
The tired looking women sighed, picked up a key, and handed it to Blake.
"Room 19. Go out and it's to the left. Nobody's gone into the room. We saw him through the window."
She went back to reading a magazine.
"Thank you, ma'am."
The blast of heat was even more surprising then the cool air had been. The two cops slowly trudged through the heat to Room 19. After an eternity they made it.
"Damn its hot," Jeff pointed out, wiping his brow.
They both entered the room. It was a typical, sparsely furnished motel room. A lamp on a nightstand next to the bed was turned on. They both noticed the body right away. He was seated in a chair, hands tied behind his back, head tilted back. Blake walked up to him. He saw the bloody red ring around the man's tan neck. *So he was strangled*. Blake turned and looked for some luggage. But there was nothing except a small empty box on the bed.
"Uh, Sheriff, take a look at this."
Blake walked back over to the body. Jeff had pulled down the collar on the man's Hawaiian shirt, exposing the man's tan chest. Tan except for the large part of his chest that appeared to be solid gold.
"Christ."
----------------------- -----------------------
Hey, this is my second story, so try to go easy on me. This is just the very beginning of this story. I hope to add on soon. Please drop me an email if you wanna talk -ME