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 As yet untitled. Product of night shift boredom. 
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Post As yet untitled. Product of night shift boredom.
I like these characters. They're maybe a little unoriginal, but I think the interplay they have in my brain is amusing. If I get around to writing a lil more, and I will, you'll all like the setting, I think.
Contributing factors:
*Picking up an Asimov book for the first time in around a decade.
*Playing way too much Puzzle Pirates.
*Cereal.

Code:
"Silly puppy! It was your idea to come out here in the first place," the girl laughed, turning her head away just a little so her companion didn't have to feel her eyes as he retched into the disposal chute again.
   "I know, I know, I can't help it... blame my stomach..." He straightened himself shakily, holding close to the handrail, the sickly pallor of his face contrasting his blush and making her laugh even harder. He couldn't help but chuckle a little at himself too, faced with her overwhelming exuberance.
   "You know, Tana, it really isn't nice to laugh at him like that," said another voice, clear and emotive yet somehow too neutral to quite be human. "You have an unfair advantage."
   The owner of the third voice came round the bend as the two were composing themselves. Fully six and a half feet tall, he pulled himself through the corridor by means of handrails, which ran along both walls. His "skin" was a metallic silver-gray, despite not being metal at all but a sort of polymer. His features were neutral by design, representing clearly no nationality or gender. Once, he had been a very expensive diplomatic translator robot, serial number RNY-1674.
   "Oh Arnie, you're no fun," Tana pouted. "Besides, it's true. Cort is the one who wanted to leave Earth, and he's the one who gets space-sick every time we're in freefall more than an hour."
   "Well in any case, the captain said we're almost ready to leave. He wants you two back on board as quickly as possible. We will be departing as soon as you arrive."
   "Alright Arnie, we'll be along in a minute. Thanks." The boy, Cort, replied, trying to regain his dignity in front of Tana. Not that it mattered much, he knew, since she would just think what she pleased regardless. He snuck a glance at her and smiled internally.
   Tana was pretty by most male standards. By Cort's, she was stunning. Standing five-foot-two shoeless and bald, not that Cort had ever seen her so, her lithe frame seemed perfectly adapted for space from their first day out. It helped a little that she'd been gene-modded to be naturally graceful and co-ordinated, not to mention the iron stomach she'd gained as a side effect. Despite being short, her black and red shipsuit showed off her long legs pleasingly. Her profile was pleasantly curved, and she had a habit of stretching her arms in a way that drew his eyes unwillingly to her small, perky chest, but to Cort her face was positively haunting.
   Tana's skin was fair, almost pale, and her lips in contrast shone a healthy red even without makeup. Her face was framed by flowing red hair that would have hung to her shoulders, had gravity been present at this moment to hold it so. Instead, it waved about like fire, somehow never getting tangled in anything or getting in her face annoyingly. Her eyes shone a pale, icy blue, and her pupils tapered vertically, almost catlike, but only enough that one noticed they were odd on first glance.
   She stuck her tongue out at Cort and grasped his hand firmly. After five years together, his heart still jumped when she did this, but she scarcely seemed to notice, and pulled him into the hallway. "Come on, puppy," she said, "We don't want to be late, that old crusthead'll prolly leave us behind!"
   Cort himself was unremarkable in appearance. His true value, it seemed, lay elsewhere. He was just less than six feet tall, and also light of build, although where Tana was light due to almost-feline gracefulness, Cort was simply thin. Not for lack of nourishment; that was just the way he was. His dark-brown hair was cropped short and his glasses were just dirty enough to make people wonder if he could see at all without actually being dirty enough to obscure his vision. As the two weaved their way between some maintenance bots, Cort remarked, "Why do you suppose the captain wants to be off so quickly?"
   "I don't know," Tana replied. "Maybe they stole you a girlfriend from that robot merchant's ship."
   "That's not funny, Ta."
   "Yes it is. You just think it's not, because it's about you, and how you can't get a date. Come on, I don't feel like dragging you."

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Last edited by Spike on Tue Dec 14, 2004 3:04 am, edited 1 time in total.

Wed Dec 08, 2004 5:46 am
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Oooh! Write me in as the huge grumpy-with-a-heart-of-gold gunner's mate! ^_^

Dude, I like this. I like it muchly.
Maybe a few more descriptive passages for the setting, though.

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Wed Dec 08, 2004 12:52 pm
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Post 2nd installment. Still no title.
I'm getting pretty into these characters. big plans. no plot yet, but big plans. I'll keep you posted.
Elements of Robot behavior and design I plan to borrow from Asimov, as he said in numerous essays that his concept were public domain (although not his words. he is explicit in how his work may be used.) some parts of ship design are inspired by donaldson's Gap Cycle, which i urge everyone to read. i shall strive to change details enough to keep things original, and once i've done the descriptions my creative influence will take the story in its own direction.
Code:
   "All right, all right, I'm moving," Cort grudgingly replied, pushing off the floor and propelling himself along the hallway. He handled himself well on merchant stations, despite his weak stomach. The halls were wide and usually sparsely populated, allowing one to push off toward the other end if need be without colliding into more leisurely pedestrians. Also, Cort's insides tended to quiet down when he was in a hurry.
   He caught up to Tana as she was keying the airlock. Arnie, moving silently behind hin, also caught up and waited at the door. "Priss Talon" was the ship name displayed above the pad; Cort chuckled to himself at this. Priscilla Talonski, better known as Priss Talon, was a streetwalker who'd lived in the apartment next to Cort's back on Earth. Nice girl, kept the noise down. Eventually saved up the money to start a tattoo parlor. Naturally, this wasn't the real name of their ship.
   The heavy airlock door rolled open, and Arnie, Tana and Cort stepped into the small space between Fairview Station and the ship. Ordinarily, these walls would be open to the void of space. Cort liked to consider such facts. Tana preferred to hover impatiently as the doors locked them in and the pressure equalized between the lock and the ship beyond. Tana kicked off and pushed inside as soon as the ship doors slid open.
   "Oof!"
   "Watch it, girl!" came the reply, a voice Cort instantly recognized.
   "Watch it yourself, fat man! What were you doing standing right in front of the doors? Jeez!"
   Tana had, of course, lunged face-first into the midsection of the ship's weapons engineer, Russel Tyler.  He was of average height, but his large hands and arms, which held onto the railing on either side of the corridor, showed a life of hard work. His round belly, mostly muscle, gave him a sort of jolly look which, combined with his short orange-red beard and shaved head, made him look almost like a younger Santa Claus.  They also made him look like a man you'd be glad to have on your side, and fearful to see set against you.  On the crew manifest, of course, he was listed as 'Engineer's Mate.'  It wouldn't do at all for Priss Talon to be armed sufficiently to require a gunner.
   "Hi, Mr. Tyler," said Cort. "What's going on? Why the sudden recall? I thought we were staying in dock until the engines were tuned and the hull resurfacing was done."
   "No clue, Sparky. He just told me to meet you down here and make good and sure you came straight up to the bridge when I saw you."
   "You know I hate that name."
   "And that's exactly why everyone's gonna keep using it!" quipped Tana, glad everyone had forgotten her lost dignity after the collision. "Anyway, what are we waiting for? Let's go find out what he wants!"

   Captain Denton drummed his fingers impatiently on the side of his console as he waited, his seat turned to the main door.  Of course, relative to the station and thus anyone coming from it, he was hanging from the ceiling.  This would have been comical if not for the stern look on his face, cracked with determination and just a bit of anxiety.  He wanted to be free and clear of this rock before things got too close for comfort.
   The captain was a tall man, muscular but lithe.  His experience was reflected by a stark white streak through his hair on the right side, the rest of which was raven-black.  A scar snaked along his neck visibly, and the lines of his face seemed to give a hint of concentrated squinting, even when his eyes were wide open.  The same lines gave his face a delightfully friendly crinkled look when he smiled or laughed.  Right now, he felt like doing neither of those things.
   The bridge itself was roughly cylindrical in shape, with the "forward" end tapering to a dome into which a dynamic viewscreen was built.  When the ship was near an object with enough gravity to affect the crew, one point would designate itself the "floor" and all the consoles would orient themselves  by it.  In freefall, they could move more or less freely about, but tended to form a semi-circle such that no-one had their view blocked.  Everyone got used to seeing the main screen at odd angles.
   In addition to the Captain's command console, there were five consoles on the ship: Vector, Tactical, Drive, Communications, and Data Control.  At any given time, an officer had to be seated at each of these consoles.  This meant that, assuming three duty-shifts in a 24-hour day, one ship could be run indefinitely by 18 people.  Smaller ships could have some functions automated or merged.  Of course, having a robot around helped to lower that number when necessary.

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Last edited by Spike on Tue Dec 14, 2004 3:03 am, edited 1 time in total.

Mon Dec 13, 2004 3:34 am
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Woot woot! I'm in! Thanks! ^_^

Liking it even more so far. It's getting a golden-age sci fi feel to it. Loving it.

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Mon Dec 13, 2004 9:51 am
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Agreed. Tis be th3 roxx0r. ^_^ Very dirty-Sci-fi feel, but excellent, friendly characters. More, damn youse!

Oh, the description of the Captain rocks. Very anime-esque, but not over-the-top

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Mon Dec 13, 2004 11:15 am
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sweet, high praise from the two writers i respect the most ;) i'm especially proud of that 'golden age' comment.. sincce Asimov is my biggest inspiration and used to be all i read, back in elementary.
more soon, but i'm sidetracked by editing SOMEONE's giant novel ;)

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Mon Dec 13, 2004 2:51 pm
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that'll teach me to trust my work computer to actually post something. now i re-type my...
notes:
*This installment concludes the first 'chapter', although it'd more of a prologue. it feels like a 'fade to title, cue credits/music' moment.
*Still no title, but i'm getting more plot in my brain, so a working one isnt far off.
*edits on my file! i cant edit posts here it seems, but i'll upload my master text to my webspace later. notably, i fixed a spelling error in the first part. also, i noticed that in part two i used 'stations' to refer to the places where people on the bridge work. in the same breath i referred to capt. denton's orientation relative to the station, meaning fairview. i have since gone back and changed all these references to read 'console'.
*Special thanks to Austin for the late-night last-minute brainstorm on FTL travel. note to self and other aspiring writers: if you're writing in a technology, decide what it is before you hit the sentence where someone turns it on.
***EDIT: Apparently I can edit my posts. I hate the firewall here at work. Anyway, the above changes have been made to my previous posts. I still plan to upload my master file, however.***
***further EDIT: http://www.geocities.com/jamesreinsch/text/story.txt not formatted, but it's all there.***
Code:
   The communications officer was still in the process of negotiating a departure path with Fairview Command when the door slid quietly open.  Tana was through the door first, true to form, with Cort hurrying behind.  Arnie floated in a respectful third, and all three made their way over to the Captain.  Cort inverted himself awkwardly to match Denton's gaze, while Tana simply caught a handhold and hovered upside-down.  Arnie spoke first.
   "Sir, as requested, all personell are onboard and ready to depart on your command.  I have brought Mr. Cort and Ms. Tana to report for further orders."
   "Very good.  Thank you, Arnie.  You may return to the Drive console.  Sparky."
   Cort composed himself hurriedly, trying to do something like the freefall equivalent to standing at attention.  "S-sir!"
   Denton allowed himself an internal smile at the boy.  He's learning, he thought.  Starting to take things seriously when necessary.  Now if we could just do something about the girl...
   "You're on Data Con.  I think you know what to do by now.  Keep our ID constant until we hit the station's blind spot, then go silent.  Tana, can you handle Vector?"
   "Of course," Tana replied impatiently, "but what's your hurry?  There's no alarms going off..."
   "If I cared to have status alarms on my ship, they might be going off now.  Just take us out please, there'll be time for explanations later."
   "Aye-aye, sir."
   As the trio got their consoles up and running, the Comms officer stopped muttering into her microphone and called out, "Captain, we are cleared to disembark.  Fairview station sends their regrets that we cannot stay, and wishes the best to your father in the hospital."
   "Excellent."  Denton liked to use something suitably dramatic to cover a hasty departure, and the father story worked as well as any.  Part of choosing a Comms officer involved finding a good actor, it seemed.  "Comms, connect our departure route to Vector.  Data, monitor their sensors.  Tana, take us out."
   "Aye-aye!" came the call from three voices as every hand on the bridge started keying instructions and monitoring status reports.  All the consoles spun gently to the side to prepare for sideward thrust.  There was a shove that pushed everyone back into their seats roughly, but the work continued regardless.  As the ship pulled out, Denton keyed the main monitor to life, showing a vid view of the station they were leaving, and the other ships docked there.  His brow furrowed as one in particular came into view.  Why was she here? He didn't particularly care to find out.  The sooner they slipped into the tach stream, the better.
   "Blind spot!" Cort called. "They won't see us on their active scans for at least eighteen seconds.  Terminating all ID sends now."
   "Arnie, deploy the sails.  Full spread."
   "Full spread, aye sir," came the stressless reply.  Ah, robots.  So unquestioningly obedient.  Not like...
   "Full, sir?" Cort exclaimed.  "Isn't that a little-"
   ...kids.
   "No.  It's a lot, and that's precisely why we're going to do it.  Tana, get us into tach fast.  All hands, brace for acceleration."

   From Fairview Station, an impatient pair of eyes gazed out a viewport, the keen mind behind them planning as they watched the stars.  Another merchant ship, thought the owner of the eyes.  She'd probably be just about ready to boost for the accel port, and from there slip into the stream of super-C particles that would propel her past the threshold of light speed toward the next station on her route.  She was deploying her sails awfully early though; she wouldn't even be in range of the port for another... but, that sail looked awfully elaborate for a merchant ship, and now she was boosting toward the stream before the port...
   "Denton."

   Had anyone on board the rapidly retreating ship cared to look back through magnification, they might have seen a pair of eyes become cold with malice, and the transparent viewport fog visibly before the woman standing there spun on her heels and vanished.

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Tue Dec 14, 2004 3:01 am
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Sweet.

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Tue Dec 14, 2004 6:11 am
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W00T! Mmm, juicy plot goodness...

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Tue Dec 14, 2004 9:33 am
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Definitely my favorite line:

"All the consoles spun GENTLY to the side to prepare for SIDEWARD THRUST. There was a SHOVE that PUSHED everyone back into their seats ROUGHLY, but the work continued regardless. As the ship PULLED OUT...."

Took the caps to make him see it, too. Silly man person.


Tue Dec 14, 2004 4:58 pm
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We are men. Naturally we think of sex while writing. We think of sex while doing everything.

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Tue Dec 14, 2004 5:08 pm
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Still funny though that it took so much to make him see it.


Tue Dec 14, 2004 5:24 pm
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any you're the one who wants to marry me. *evil snicker*

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Tue Dec 14, 2004 6:06 pm
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Finally back on the writing wagon, but I have to think of actual plot before I go a word further! ><
I have a couple ideas in my brain, but haven't decided where I want to go with it yet. These installments always seem longer when i post em here.
The quote at the end needs work. I had a better version but accidentally killed it. I have something planned for it.
Code:
     *                               *                                       *

   "Co-operative interstellar travel is more than just a way of getting from one place to another.  When the public purse of all mankind becomes the sole upkeep, it will be in everyone's best interests to work together.  Such outdated ideas as theft, murder, and piracy will all but disappear.  Ladies and gentlemen, in our lifetimes we will see transport ships skipping between star systems without weapons or even armed guards.  With the taming of the tachyon, humanity will enter a new era of peace." ~Hans M?ller, addressing the Interplanetary Summit for Science and Development, 2035CE.

   [i]Cort sits alone in his apartment, typing at a keyboard so well-worn that the letters scarcely even show anymore.  Of course, he doesn't need to see them.  The deceptively small computer humming away under his desk is really the biggest part of his life.  The soft clacking of its keys is his mantra, and the glow of the screen has long since become his constant mood-lighting.  The smooth sound of the fans blends with the rain outside, soothing his mind.  He responds to an acquaintance's idle chatter while simultaneously researching new hardware, downloading utility software, and breaking an encryption pattern.  Once it's broken, he might send the solution to a security firm that's looking to tighten its boot-straps.  Maybe.  To Cort, it's a pretty rewarding way to earn a living.  Everything in his life is fairly well in order.  He's just finished thinking just this when he hears a frantic knocking.
   Startled out of his musings, Cort glances at the door.  He isn't expecting any deliveries, and no one knows his address.  To complicate matters, as he stands to peer through the peephole,  it becomes evident that the rapping sound is not behind the door.  It's across the room, at the window.  Spinning on his heels, Cort looks through the glass, then jumps back, jolting his hip hard against the desk.
   Outside, pressed against the glass, is a girl.  At least, it's probably a girl.  Or a really big drowned rat.  It's difficult to tell.  He hurries over to open the window, baffled that anyone could possibly be hanging on out there.  There's no balcony or ledge, only a tiny windowsill and a straight vertical gutter drain.  As soon as the window is half-open, the girl tumbles in, knocking Cort on his back and landing on top of him.
   "No time to explain! Can you hide me?"
   Cort's mind races, considering the situation while registering the pounding of heavy boots up the stairs three floors down, but his thoughts are interrupted by a quick tapping on his temple.[/i]

   Cort awoke, his eyes sliding open, and immediately saw a pair of ice blue eyes staring back into his. "ACK!" he yelled, promptly snapping tight most of his muscles in a spasm of fright.  This, in turn, propelled him off his bunk and over the side.  Had there been gravity in the room, he might have fallen quite hard to the floor.  Instead, he went into a less-than-graceful slow spin through the air.  Perky laughter followed him as he put an arm out to stop himself before impacting the wall.
   "Dammit Tana, you know I hate it when you do that! Why can't you just chime the door like a normal human being?"
   "Because I'm not a normal human being, puppy, and you know it," Tana replied, catching her breath.  "Besides, it's so funny the way you jump!"
   "Right.  Funny.  Sooner or later I'm going to start sleeping armed," Cort grumbled, inverting in the air to look at the girl straight-on. "What's going on? I was hoping to sleep until we started up spin."
   "Captain wants you.  Maybe he's gonna tell us why we had to run like that."

   "Cort.  Tana.  Right on time.  I need you two on Vector and Data.  We're going to drop out of tach, and it's not going to be an easy ride."
   Cort drifted to his seat and belted in, but his eyes widened as he saw the readings coming in.  "Sir!  You want us to drop out here?"
   "I just said so, didn't I?  Now, can you plot a course, or shall I have someone relieve you?"
   Cort began rapidly keying his console, his mind flying in several directions as he registered all the data.  An asteroid field, full of drifting rocks and unknown gases.  That was one hell of a needle to thread.  Cort allowed himself a bit of a smile.  No wonder the Captain called him up.  No matter what Denton said, nobody else on board, not even Arnie, could find the ship a path through that.   "I think I have something, sir," Cort reported.  "Give me a minute."
   "You've got two.  I want you to hide our trail.  Arnie, close the sails."
   "Aye, sir."
   Cort continued to scan and analyze the charts of the asteroid field, which was quickly coming upon them.  The larger bodies could be predicted, but there were even odds that a rock the size of a large dog could smash through the sensors or hole the engine the moment Tana dropped them out of tach.  It was his job to know where the rocks couldn't be, and hers to dodge them when they were there anyway.
   Cort's eyes were drawn to the side, suddenly noticing the gold-colored plaque hung on the wall.  The captain usually hid it inside the wall panel, since their ship was fairly well-known and not very well-liked.  It was an old-fashioned christening plaque, the kind that used to be given to a captain before his ship first left port.  Cort allowed himself a moment to read the lettering there.
   The Raven.
   The black ship of modern piracy.  The boy quickly turned back to his duties; it would scarcely be a fitting end to a legend if he were to get them all killed hiding between the rocks here.  "Tana, I think I have a vector.  Sending it your way."
   "Receiving now.  What?  What's this cloud?"
   "Just a guess, but there may be some volatile gases.  You'll have gas-thrust, but no engine-burn.  It'd ignite the gas and, well..."
   "Fine.  You better be right."  Tana stuck her tongue out at Cort, hands already working at her own console, presumably sending commands for engineering to charge the gas thrusters.  She knew as well as he did that there was only one way to fly the ship.  "I'm pushing us to the outer stream.  Brace yourselves, window in fifteen seconds."
   Everyone on the bridge took a moment to check their straps and slide back against their seats.  Everyone but the Captain.  He sat perfectly still and calm, eyes fixed on the command console.
   "Dropping out!" Tana called, triggering a final nudge to the side.  The ship hitched as it passed into normal space, suddenly remembering that it wasn't allowed to travel faster than light.  Cort's eyes flickered between scan data and lit momentarily on an outside viewscreen.
   It would have been beautiful, were it not so treacherous.  Hundreds of jagged formations of metal and stone, like dark crystals, drifting in and out of the Raven's floodlights.  The ship pitched into a slight roll, shooting past a cluster of smaller rocks that weren't on the charts.  Beads of sweat were visible in the air near Tana, drifting slowly toward the nearest air filters.  She couldn't afford to admire the view; to Tana, each rock was just another potential catastrophe.  It was like dodging bullets.  And she was incredible.
   The ship soared silently, dodging between asteroids and through gas clouds.  Cort hoped his intuition had been correct about the clouds; anyone looking for them would never be able to distinguish the signature of the Raven's thrust from the naturally-occurring debris out here.  Tana pulled into a hard turn, braking on one side to fishtail the ship around, concentrating on deceleration and dodging the rocks.

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Last edited by Spike on Sun Apr 03, 2005 3:22 am, edited 4 times in total.

Wed Jan 12, 2005 3:03 am
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Hot DAMN.

Also, "as it remembered;" Douglas Adams-esque. LOVE it.

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Wed Jan 12, 2005 12:53 pm
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EDIT: Found the old quote that i wrote before. i like it better.

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Sat Jan 15, 2005 1:46 am
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Nifty. I like this one so far, especially Tana's character. I think I'll reserve most of my commentary 'till I have a better sense of where this is going, but I'll say that you have my full encouragement. I think this could be quite interesting.

Hope to see more soon.

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Thu Jan 20, 2005 12:28 pm
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mini-update, to prove i'm still writing. more to come, likely tonight.

Code:
   "Find somewhere to hide," Denton said calmly.
   "Tana, I'm reading a good spot toward one-one-nine," Cort called, keying a couple commands into his console.  "Here's the details."
   Tana had already turned the ship toward the directions he'd called, and immediately recognized it: a large crater in a slowly-spinning asteroid, massive enough to be a moon if it had been orbiting a planet.  She pulled the ship alongside and nudged her into the crater, then leaned back with a sigh.
   Cort's body finally caught up with him as the ship matched its speed to the slow spin of the asteroid.  "Captian, permission to leave-"
   "Granted."
   The now very pale boy unbelted and pushed toward the exit, desperate to reach a waste disposal in time.  Denton rolled his eyes.  Nine months now, and still the kid couldn't hold his stomach.  It was almost endearing, like a kitten with a missing leg.  Almost.
   Tana spoke up next.  "Captain, permission to..."
   "Granted."
   "...speak freely, sir.  Thank you."  Damn.  "Sir, with all due respect, I think we all deserve an explanation.  We left Fairview in an awful hurry, and I think we'd all sort of like to know why."
   She had a point, even if the rest of the crew trusted him too much to admit it.  He should tell them something.  Denton sighed heavily, shutting off a couple of his console's displays.  "This is a pirate ship.  We here are pirates.  We live on two things, primarily: salvage, and thievery.  For one of these acts, every person in this crew could be considered marked and wanted by the governing body of virtually every human settlement.  What we are hiding from isn't just the long arm of the Law.  It's the bullet of the Law's best sniper, and today that sniper got a lucky shot."
   He paused to let the weight  of his statement sink in around the bridge.  Tyler was respectfully silent.  Arnie remained silent because he had no valid reason not to be.  The comms tech, Lia, had turned her console to face him, but other than that seemed just as busy as always monitoring the static and silence of space, and fine-tuning her reception of that static and silence.  Tana had stopped talking, her indignance stifled under the heavy implications of government capture.
   Denton counted the seconds before the shocked silence would be broken.  Internally he took great pleasure at being able to predict his crew this well; it kept things running more smoothly.  Three... two... now.
   "Is our orbit stabilized?" The captain's words were calculated, and the tension quickly became pressure to perform.  Tana hurriedly turned to her console again, checking her readouts.
   "I.. yes, sir."
   "Good."  He keyed the ship's intercoms.  "Attention all hands. Duty shift B, please report to the bridge. Shift A will be relieved shortly.  Our velocity is stable, internal spin will commence shortly."

   In the corridor outside the bridge, drifting next to a familiar waste receptacle, Cort breathed a sigh of relief.  There have always been those who say people do more thinking sitting in a washroom than at any other point in their day-to-day lives.  Cort was an interesting deviation of this rule; he did a lot of deep thinking while floating over a panel that was cleaning itself and processing his sick.
   Times like this, he liked to retreat inside himself.  It was always nice and cool there, with just the right level of gravity, and he could hold a nice internal discussion.  As he floated and waited for the ship to provide him with blessed gravity, Cort walked into a room in his head from two different doors at the same time.  The room was empty and had dull gray walls; it required no ornaments, and anything needed for discussion could be added freely.
   "I'm sick of this," Cort muttered.  "I thought I'd get used to it all by now, but I still can't take it."
   "I don't think it's the freefall that does it," replied the other Cort.  "If it were just that, You'd have stopped doing this a long time ago."
   "What, then?"
   "Stress.  You're not a swashbuckling pirate, you're not a hero.  You're just a tech who fell in with the wrong woman at the wrong time."
   "Unavoidable.  How can I fix what's already done?"
   "You could leave.  Find a nice station and disappear..."
   As is the nature of the mind, things happen unexpectedly.  At this point a third Cort barged in forcefully, fists clenched.
   "No!"
   "Dammit, not you again.  If it weren't for you, we'd have this figured out."
   "If it weren't for me, you'd be a lonely kid in a single-room apartment, doing small-time commission software and looking at pictures of actresses half the time.  I make us better, and so does she."  The walls shimmered and became perfect video images of shimmering red hair and the pale curve of a neckline.
   "You always make her the issue.  Things were easier before you were around."
   "I'm part of you, so live with it.  If you leave, it won't be alone.  Never again."
   The first Cort leaned against the wall, far removed from the discussion.  The wall felt soft and warm, smooth.  A familiar argument ensued, reaching a familiar lack of conclusion, and external events pulled him back to the more real world.

   There was a slight shudder as the ship's core began to rotate.  Cort always thought this was a little disappointing; he'd figured that when something as large as the inside of a whole ship started to move, it ought to make a sound, like a whirr or a thunk or something.  Nonetheless, he was thankful when the rotation of the wall he was holding onto began to cause a faux gravity and his feet were pulled mercifully to the deck below.
   He shifted quickly out of the way as he saw a couple crew members walking toward him, reporting for the next shift.  The nodded recognition, long since used to seeing him standing here, and entered the bridge beyond.  Tana walked out after they'd disappeared from view, and the door slid shut.
   "Come on," she said darkly, walking past him.

_________________
Brazil has decided that you're cute.
~Spike, Wandering Ninja.
"I don't need wings..."
http://spiketheslayer.livejournal.com/


Sun Jan 30, 2005 5:33 pm
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I may have decided where I'm going with this. Contributing factors: Fresh oranges, City of Heroes, and some particularly graphic writing by Stephen King and Peter Straub. I'm pretty sure devouring my first trade of Hellblazer has something to do with it, too...
Code:
   Cort stumbled as he followed, legs still a little shaky from the change in gravity.  Tana walked briskly down the corridor, her face ahead where he couldn't see, and said nothing.
   "Tana? Wait up!" Cort called, bracing against a handrail and chasing gracelessly.  The air almost felt icy in her wake.  She must be pissed,  he thought.  "What happened?"
   Cort caught up as Tana stopped in front of the door to their shared quarters.  He put his hand on her shoulder gently, praying he wasn't about to pull back a bleeding stump.  "Tana?"
   Tana turned to face him.  It took a moment for Cort's brain to process what his eyes were receiving: his dearest friend and closest companion, rarely more than worried or anxious since they'd met, now stood before him shaking, eyes downcast, with tears streaming down her face.  Her voice cracked as she looked up at him.
   "I'm sorry..."
   Acting entirely on instinct, Cort hurriedly keyed the door and pulled Tana out of the hall.  As soon as the entrance to their little room had slid shut, he pulled her into a hug.  Her arms found their way around him and she sobbed heavily into his shoulder, shaking and holding him tightly enough to shorten his breath.
   "It's all my fault.. we're stuck here forever. Nevermind. You can't help. Helping means death. Capture.." her voice cracked, sobbing hard.
   For many years, people have debated the role of genetics in determining a person's personality and actions.  There are those who maintain that, given certain stimulus, some people may make decisions that seem wildly out of character.  In Cort's case, this may be the only explanation.  Were this just some friend complaining about his or her situation, he would have responded with a lighthearted prod at how the person brought about the events to begin with.  But this.. was her.  And she was crying.  Somewhere deep within Cort's modern mind, an ancient creature opened first one pale eye, then the other.  A wave washed over his consciousness, and all of a sudden all he could think about was to fix this, to make it right, and to protect the girl in his arms.
   Pity, then, that there was no way to do it.
   After a minute had passed, a chime sounded at the door.  It opened before either could respond and Arnie stepped in, closing the door behind himself.  Tana, startled, separated herself from Cort and hastily wiped the tears from her eyes.  Cort, however, was not surprised by either one of his friends.
   "Arnie.  You were relieved of duty?"
   "I informed the captain that my maintenance program required me to report to you at the first opportunity."
   "Very good.  I take it you were worried about us."
   "In as much as I understand worry, yes."
   Tana, a little more in control of herself, looked from Cort to Arnie and back to Cort again.  "Maintenance program?"
   "I routed a lot of his pseudo-emotional reactions through it.  Arnie, can you lie to a human?"
   "No," came the immediate reply.  "My core programming forbids it."
   "See?  So, I made sure that if he ever wanted to, Arnie could get a little freedom.  Arnie," Cort said, his eyes locked on Tana's.  "I want you to run diagnostics on this ship's emergency systems, particularly the escape pods.  If you see any problems, inform me."
   Arnie nodded, his great metallic forehead reflecting the light from the porthole, and turned, promptly stepping out as the door opened for him.  As the door closed, however, Cort's mind did a somersault inside his head: Light.. porthole.. uh-oh.
   Cort grabbed Tana and pulled her under a bunk, just as Lia's voice came over the ship's com: "All hands, we are under attack!  Brace for impact!  All hands, internal spin disengaging!"
   The gravity disengaged again and Cort's stomach started its usual acrobatics.  He'd just finished strapping Tana and himself into a protective web-harness when the first massive shudder and thunderclap rocked through the ship.  Fear and nausea, however, couldn't blot out the thought that suddenly rammed into his head like a bullet: This is your chance.
     *                               *                                       *
   "I knew they'd be here," Captain Steele's sultry, yet commanding voice declared.  All around her, the crew of the UMIPD ship 'Dauntless' were working furiously at their consoles.  Their chairs spun in unison like some bizarre ballet as the ship weaved into flanking position.  "Denton really should know not to re-use an escape plan."
   "Captain, cannon two is charged."
   "Hold fire a moment.  Comms, any contact?"
   "Negative."
   "Data?" Steele glanced at her young data tech, a talented girl to be sure but obviously a little green for combat.
   "I.. almost.. um.." the girl, whose ID proclaimed her to be 'Ensign Freeland,' faltered, then suddenly brightened into a giddy smile.  "Link established! We're in!"
   "Excellent.  Pay attention now, this is called Psychological Warfare.  It's also known as being a vicious bitch."  The captain smiled, her teeth shining briefly, and keyed her console.  "Attention, crew of the Raven.  This is the United Mankind Interspace Police ship Dauntless, Captain Catherine Steele commanding.  You have received a warning shot.  You will stand down immediately.  You may consider yourselves under arrest for the high crime of piracy."
   Steele keyed off her connection and shot a sly smile to Ensign Freeland, who was obviously beaming admirably at her commander.  "Now, that ought to.."
   "Captain, activity from the ship!"  Stevens, her Tactical officer, was rapidly abusing the buttons on his console to bring his data into focus.  "She's powering engines, and gas-thrusting evasive.. and.. I'm reading a projectile away!"
   "Warhead?"  Steele's initial reflexes tended to be worst-case scenarios.  She was rarely disappointed.
   "Negative.  It's.. an escape pod.  Thrusting away from their port side, toward some debris.  Something's odd about it though.  Data, what do you make of this?"
   Freeland looked in silence at her console for a few seconds, then responded, "If the Raven has any sensor blind spots, it's exactly where that pod just flew.  They're using a light orbit to circle around behind that big asteroid the ship was hiding by, but they're circling toward us, not away.  I'd say they want us to see them, and they want Denton not to know they're missing."
     *                               *                                       *

_________________
Brazil has decided that you're cute.
~Spike, Wandering Ninja.
"I don't need wings..."
http://spiketheslayer.livejournal.com/


Wed Mar 09, 2005 4:59 am
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Chibi-Czar
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You rock so hard man.
You.
Rock.

Now give me more or I will do horrible things to y- uh...
I will give Phae a birthday present.
A sharp one.

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Why carry a gun? Because a whole cop would be too heavy.


Wed Mar 09, 2005 4:35 pm
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Ni - Master

Joined: Tue Mar 16, 2004 5:14 pm
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sharp pretty shiney metal STAB blood.

yummy.

*giggle* :D


Fri Mar 11, 2005 9:08 pm
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Post 
EDIT: altered dream sequence, changed to present tense. Imagine it's in italics.

_________________
Brazil has decided that you're cute.
~Spike, Wandering Ninja.
"I don't need wings..."
http://spiketheslayer.livejournal.com/


Sun Apr 03, 2005 4:22 am
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