ENGAGING RP MODE
A small line of text appeared on the glassy surface of the older console, heading the front of the ship. Beside it were numerous switches, red and white, orange, green, a plethora of L.E.D's blinking and flashing, levers and dials that turned and manually connected. All analog functions. The top right corner of the screen was cracked, blurring and distorting the words behind it, and increasing by nano-meters with every strain. For now, it obscured nothing important. Every switch, L.E.D, lever and dial was marked by a tiny line of text underneath it, but most of it was too faded to read. The matte black surface of the console, filling the space between each protrusion, was scuffed in numerous places and no longer new, showing the shinier steel surface underneath.
Directly above the console lay another, anchored to the ceiling and outfitted with nearly the same number of dials and switches and levers, but this time, each was locked into position with a small strap. The screen on this console showed a constant sine wave graph, though it could hardly be called constant, for it fluctuated and changed constantly. It was flanked by two other monitors, each attached from behind and facing towards the center of the command area. The left one displayed only static, its function given out long ago. The right one showed a conic, or several, even complete with a rotating hyperbola and parabolas. It pulsed as the hyperbola passed the major axis, a small tone that indicated that it was still functioning. Every so often it beeped and displayed a new object, a small red triangle somewhere on the edge of the conic. This moved every time the hyperbola passed it, sometimes up and sometimes to the side, until it inevitably disappeared with another small beep.
On either side of both were 8 other consoles, each just as scuffed as the last, each with a monitor and its own set of controls. They formed a concentric circle around the raised command platform, facing inwards towards a seat, grafted to the galvanized steel floor, dented and just as colorless and personality drained as everything else, imprinted with small diamond-shaped protrusions, small but significant for their purpose. The seat itself has seen better days; the leather was ripped and showed it's fluffy, stained stuffing. The buttons on the side were cracked. The chrome finish no longer shined with the incandescent glow of the overhead lights. But it still got the job done.
The screen read; "Scan complete." As Jallanx read these words, a smile crept up his face and he stood up. His boots clicked on the floor as he did so, microscopic pieces of rubber flaking off the heels. He brushed several locks of deep-black hair out of his face and turned around, his ragged uniform swishing through the air as he did so, and faced his 10 or so crew-mates- friends- on the bridge floor below him. "It's done," he said, nearly bursting inside with excitement. But he needed to keep himself composed. "We can go home."
The bridge erupted in cheering as his crewmates screamed and hugged each other, grateful, glad, happy for this nightmarish journey to be over. Jallanx watched from the elevated command platform with a smile on his face. He saw Gordan at the back, still the tallest and most humorous man on the ship. He was locked in an embrace with Jennifer, his long-lost sister from the planet below, who bore a nearly identical look to Gordan. She broke out of the embrace and turned towards Jallanx with a smile and a skip in her step, and waved. Jallanx waved back and looked over to see Koryy, the engineer, lifted up by his friends Ulmaryn, Olivian, Cathy, with great joy evident on his still dirty face. Jallanx noted the black-smudged cotton towel in his pocket and shook his head, chuckling. Jallanx turned around to prep the FTL drive and return home.
He was stopped short by an incessant beeping coming from the sensor console above. He must not have heard it before, with the cheering; now it was evidently there. Behind him, the sounds of happiness died down gradually as they became aware of the beeping. Jallanx half ran, half jumped the remaining meter or so to the sensor console. The rotating hyperbola, most closely described as a Radar, had highlighted a red triangle that was approaching very quickly. His smile disappeared, and as additional warning lights switched on, he dove to the side towards the ship controls.
He never made it. The ship rocked with incredible force and the room was plunged into darkness.
The warship fired a railgun, a blue flash of light and the shell was away at a fraction of the speed of light. If there was nothing in its way, it would go off into space for eternity, flying and drifting until it hit something. It could be a ship. It could be the planet behind that ship. It could go off in a million years and hit something else. Whatever the case, somehow, somewhere, it was ruining someone's day. In this case, it was ruining it now. The shell pierced the steel shell of the junker quite easily, fragmenting the brittle layer and sending rectangular pieces flying through the empty void. It exited the other side and kept going, a plume of fire and debris following its exit into the void once again. Another round, and the ship tore in two pieces in an explosion of fire and metal, a brilliant detonation bright enough to be seen from the surface below, for they were on the night side of the planet. Not that anyone cared. Two more rounds, and the ship was nothing more than a debris field.
Aboard the warship, a lone Tien with blackened feathers and dull colors stood alone at the front of the bridge, watching the colorful display of fireworks in front of him. No emotion registered on his face; if it weren't for his subtle and slow breathing, one might consider him an android. As he watched, a small shadow fell on the bridge, and the Tien looked to see the eviscerated corpse of a man, floating just past the bridge, a look of terror still evident on his face. The Tien turned around, closing the blast shutters as he did so, and looked at the 5 or so pairs of eyes behind him, all dimly illuminated by the light from some of the most advanced consoles money could buy. "The escapees have been killed," he announced to the room in an emotionless, yet somber tone. "Return us to the complex and inform Taln command. Pentos has guided us well."
Inside the [X]
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Professor Fenway
- Texture Artist
- Posts:1506
- Joined:Wed Dec 05, 2012 10:47 pm
- Affiliation:Novus Roma
- Location:Neither Here nor There
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Chairman_Tiel
- Rear Admiral
- Posts:1890
- Joined:Sat Dec 01, 2012 9:39 am
- Affiliation:GLORIOUS REPUBLIC
Re: Inside the [X]
YOU THINK YOU'RE BETTER THAN ME!?
I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS! I'LL MAKE A..A.. 5000 WORD STORY! YEAH! THAT'LL SHOW YOU!
*looks at work backlog*
Well, shit, never mind then.
In all seriousness though it's always a pleasure to read your writing Fenway. If it's not from enjoying the content itself there's always something to learn from your style. It's honestly something long overdue and maybe a bit offtopic here, but thank you for taking the time to make these works of literary art in almost every RP. They really bring the subforum to life imo. Cats is really good too, I just wish he'd do it more often.
I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS! I'LL MAKE A..A.. 5000 WORD STORY! YEAH! THAT'LL SHOW YOU!
*looks at work backlog*
Well, shit, never mind then.
In all seriousness though it's always a pleasure to read your writing Fenway. If it's not from enjoying the content itself there's always something to learn from your style. It's honestly something long overdue and maybe a bit offtopic here, but thank you for taking the time to make these works of literary art in almost every RP. They really bring the subforum to life imo. Cats is really good too, I just wish he'd do it more often.
Last edited by Chairman_Tiel on Mon May 05, 2014 7:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
[/spoiler]-
Error
- Moderator
- Posts:4205
- Joined:Thu Dec 06, 2012 11:49 am
- Affiliation:CNI
- IGN:FC_Rangefinder
- Location:Sol IIIa, School of Hard Knocks
Re: Inside the [X]
Indeed. He's the Grand Pabbie of the RPs, and I think this is the reason.Chairman Tiel wrote:-snip-
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ACH0225
- Vice Admiral
- Posts:2312
- Joined:Sun Dec 09, 2012 10:21 pm
- Affiliation:Strigiforme
- IGN:ACH0225
- Location:Cuuyth
Re: Inside the [X]
The Strigiforme must always win.
The room was silent, dark, and cold. Its' occupants, a solitary owl, slumbered in a small heap with some synthetic insulation. He awoke without any prompting from the small alarm in a niche in the wall; he had been doing this every day for a very long time.
With a low groaning sound, he rose, stretching his wings behind him. He then limped into the adjacent room to preen near the small pool of water. The room, his bathroom, possessed only a small pool that had a panel with several button for every conceivable use. After preening and ensuring his feathers had the proper shine, he went back into the sleeping room, tapping a button on the wall near the floor to retract the sleeping area into the wall. He then made a small breakfast with a pair of grain bars and water with some of his favorite flavourings. He dipped his wing tips in some yellow dye to ensure he was up to work regulation, and left out the door.
His apartment was one of many in this one building on this single world. The corridor, a long bare concrete passage, was lit with some inset lights near the ceilings. He walked down the hallway, to the exit area; as he was on the 20th floor, he was able to fly out the building with little difficulty.
As he left, he saw the standard sights of a Strigiforme city; the factories, with their near-constant red glow of hot metal and production, the buildings, tall and graceful, made of steel and glass with small openings disgorging and admitting other owls, and the Rytpy, the city's defences, a few visible concrete pillboxes, betraying the positions of hundreds of feet of underground armouries and barracks, and a half-skyscraper sized steel tower, a single anti-fleet gun capable of striking orbital targets.
He passed by all these with little but a glance at the sky; it would likely rain today. He flew down, gliding elegantly around the buildings and hot steam from the factories. Soon, he arrived at another building, not too dissimilar to the one he just left. The building was a Strigiforme government building, devoted to maintaining the logistics of the nationalized shipyards. The owl, who's name is Ctyyral, entered through an aperture marked with a large yellow 5 above it, denoting it was area 5 for yellow ranked workers. Ctyyral entered, shaking off the cold from outside, inputting his ID and a small blood scan, passing the security guard with no hassle.
He passed a very attractive female co-worker, who he had known for several years, and who he had been building up the courage to court. He then arrived at his desk, a perfectly regulation desk which he had used for the past 5 years, and would likely use for the next rest of his life. He sat down to do his work; the shipyards over Cuuyth needed several tonnes more titanium-12 blend, and he was allocated with locating where they might be found and then presenting his findings to his superior.
Timeskip to later
He was finished, the titanium having to be drawn from half the Empire away, which had irked him greatly. He, like all other Strigiforme, love his work; he loved the challenge, and he would find that if he sopped loving it, he might find some additional incentive to start again, should Worker's Management take notice.
The room was silent, dark, and cold. Its' occupants, a solitary owl, slumbered in a small heap with some synthetic insulation. He awoke without any prompting from the small alarm in a niche in the wall; he had been doing this every day for a very long time.
With a low groaning sound, he rose, stretching his wings behind him. He then limped into the adjacent room to preen near the small pool of water. The room, his bathroom, possessed only a small pool that had a panel with several button for every conceivable use. After preening and ensuring his feathers had the proper shine, he went back into the sleeping room, tapping a button on the wall near the floor to retract the sleeping area into the wall. He then made a small breakfast with a pair of grain bars and water with some of his favorite flavourings. He dipped his wing tips in some yellow dye to ensure he was up to work regulation, and left out the door.
His apartment was one of many in this one building on this single world. The corridor, a long bare concrete passage, was lit with some inset lights near the ceilings. He walked down the hallway, to the exit area; as he was on the 20th floor, he was able to fly out the building with little difficulty.
As he left, he saw the standard sights of a Strigiforme city; the factories, with their near-constant red glow of hot metal and production, the buildings, tall and graceful, made of steel and glass with small openings disgorging and admitting other owls, and the Rytpy, the city's defences, a few visible concrete pillboxes, betraying the positions of hundreds of feet of underground armouries and barracks, and a half-skyscraper sized steel tower, a single anti-fleet gun capable of striking orbital targets.
He passed by all these with little but a glance at the sky; it would likely rain today. He flew down, gliding elegantly around the buildings and hot steam from the factories. Soon, he arrived at another building, not too dissimilar to the one he just left. The building was a Strigiforme government building, devoted to maintaining the logistics of the nationalized shipyards. The owl, who's name is Ctyyral, entered through an aperture marked with a large yellow 5 above it, denoting it was area 5 for yellow ranked workers. Ctyyral entered, shaking off the cold from outside, inputting his ID and a small blood scan, passing the security guard with no hassle.
He passed a very attractive female co-worker, who he had known for several years, and who he had been building up the courage to court. He then arrived at his desk, a perfectly regulation desk which he had used for the past 5 years, and would likely use for the next rest of his life. He sat down to do his work; the shipyards over Cuuyth needed several tonnes more titanium-12 blend, and he was allocated with locating where they might be found and then presenting his findings to his superior.
Timeskip to later
He was finished, the titanium having to be drawn from half the Empire away, which had irked him greatly. He, like all other Strigiforme, love his work; he loved the challenge, and he would find that if he sopped loving it, he might find some additional incentive to start again, should Worker's Management take notice.
mfw brony imagesfr0stbyte124 wrote:5 months from now, I will publish a paper on an efficient method for rendering millions of owls to a screen.
Spoiler:
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Vinyl
- Fleet Admiral
- Posts:3217
- Joined:Wed Dec 05, 2012 9:54 pm
- Affiliation:Hexalan
- IGN:PCaptainRexK
- Location:Hexalan
Re: Inside the [X]
Hexalan can into trend.
The morning alarm rang, just as always. It had become less jarring over the past few weeks, though the sound had become no less annoying. Sitting up in the comfy if not spartan bunk, she looked upon herself, briefly studying the black body glove yet again. As always, printed on her left breast was the designation HT-3511. Everyone called her "Five 'leven", even the instructors, but many of the senior trainees told her it wasn't uncommon. Suddenly she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, quickly turning to face the assailant.
"Hey, Kierys," Her gaze met his, it was just Jacx.
"Oh, uh, yeah, what's up?" As Kierys said this, she noticed the rest of the soldiers in the barracks had already donned their armor. Taking the hint, she tapped the barely visible button, opening the compartment below.
"You know, if you keep this up you're never going to make it past private," though he said this in a joking manner, the truth of it could not be more real. Removing the moderately sized case and unhooking the latches, she hastily removed the dull gray and orange pieces of ceramasteel and hooked them to the magnetic hardpoints located at various points along the body glove. Nearly finishing with the upper body, Kierys faced upwards again. Jacx was still there, "Tick tock," he said, holding up his helmet and tapping the visor where the HUD displays time.
"Shut up," she said with a slight chuckle, remaining focused on completing the set however, being almost done. "Shall we, then?" presenting her arm to him, holding the helmet with the other. Jacx taking her hand, the two walked out of barracks 07 and onto the short pathway leading to the mess hall, not shortly after entering it.
The strong aroma of smoked meats filled the space as the couple joined the second line. Coming up to them, they each grabbed a tray, and stood before the large tubs of various styles of meat, ranging from traditional "sausages" to the kind one would get in a ration package. They both took much the same, having been close neighbors in their apartment building. Optional fruits, grains, and vegetables were assorted just ahead, and for the most part untouched. The common Hexalan diet has been noted by many an anthropologist. Kierys opted for a couple of Tykerri, a breed of sweet potatoes farmed domestically, and traditionally served peeled and raw.
Sitting at the table they usually inhabited, they set to their meal. Foreigners often experience a kind of shock when eating with a Hexalan, as they tend to be "awkwardly silent". This being their norm however, they enjoyed the time of reflection and thought. Having a time table though, they hurried through breakfast, chewing and biting to the alarm, whereupon they stood and disposed of their trays into a receptacle, following the crowd outside again to their first duties. Today being Kierys' day for physical conditioning, they parted with a light kiss.
The morning alarm rang, just as always. It had become less jarring over the past few weeks, though the sound had become no less annoying. Sitting up in the comfy if not spartan bunk, she looked upon herself, briefly studying the black body glove yet again. As always, printed on her left breast was the designation HT-3511. Everyone called her "Five 'leven", even the instructors, but many of the senior trainees told her it wasn't uncommon. Suddenly she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, quickly turning to face the assailant.
"Hey, Kierys," Her gaze met his, it was just Jacx.
"Oh, uh, yeah, what's up?" As Kierys said this, she noticed the rest of the soldiers in the barracks had already donned their armor. Taking the hint, she tapped the barely visible button, opening the compartment below.
"You know, if you keep this up you're never going to make it past private," though he said this in a joking manner, the truth of it could not be more real. Removing the moderately sized case and unhooking the latches, she hastily removed the dull gray and orange pieces of ceramasteel and hooked them to the magnetic hardpoints located at various points along the body glove. Nearly finishing with the upper body, Kierys faced upwards again. Jacx was still there, "Tick tock," he said, holding up his helmet and tapping the visor where the HUD displays time.
"Shut up," she said with a slight chuckle, remaining focused on completing the set however, being almost done. "Shall we, then?" presenting her arm to him, holding the helmet with the other. Jacx taking her hand, the two walked out of barracks 07 and onto the short pathway leading to the mess hall, not shortly after entering it.
The strong aroma of smoked meats filled the space as the couple joined the second line. Coming up to them, they each grabbed a tray, and stood before the large tubs of various styles of meat, ranging from traditional "sausages" to the kind one would get in a ration package. They both took much the same, having been close neighbors in their apartment building. Optional fruits, grains, and vegetables were assorted just ahead, and for the most part untouched. The common Hexalan diet has been noted by many an anthropologist. Kierys opted for a couple of Tykerri, a breed of sweet potatoes farmed domestically, and traditionally served peeled and raw.
Sitting at the table they usually inhabited, they set to their meal. Foreigners often experience a kind of shock when eating with a Hexalan, as they tend to be "awkwardly silent". This being their norm however, they enjoyed the time of reflection and thought. Having a time table though, they hurried through breakfast, chewing and biting to the alarm, whereupon they stood and disposed of their trays into a receptacle, following the crowd outside again to their first duties. Today being Kierys' day for physical conditioning, they parted with a light kiss.
cats wrote:I literally cannot be wrong about this fictional universe
Re: Inside the [X]
If only it wasn't 2:22 AM on a weekday with two AP exams and a project due.
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from a completely ad-hoc plot device"
— David Langford
— David Langford
Spoiler:
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CommanderKobialka
- Lt. Commander
- Posts:728
- Joined:Sun Dec 23, 2012 5:31 pm
- Affiliation:White
- IGN:Nevank
Re: Inside the [X]
Kobialka is a plumber on a space station. He barely makes enough to support his wife and three kids who are all extremely malnourished. He does his job day after day month after month year after year before he gets fired in the worst of times and can't get another job. His family survives another few years as hitchhikers, collecting scraps of food in people's trash cans. His whole family is shot and killed by a drunk man one day and so in his misery he lets himself out an airlock where in a split second his body explodes due to the lack of pressure.
THE END
I had a great time. What an interesting concept.
THE END
I had a great time. What an interesting concept.
Throw the commies in the drink so my country can be free!
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Error
- Moderator
- Posts:4205
- Joined:Thu Dec 06, 2012 11:49 am
- Affiliation:CNI
- IGN:FC_Rangefinder
- Location:Sol IIIa, School of Hard Knocks
Re: Inside the [X]
@Kob bodies don't explode, they just bleed a bit then freeze. Science.
NC can probably story:
/
Gaetiea yanked the cords from the sockets on the control panel, wrapping them around the fault-tester in hand. Glancing at the clock, he bit back a smile and headed towards the airlock, exchanging greetings and acknowledgements with the maintenance crew.
Stepping out onto the shipyard, he worked his way through the crowds of personnel to the locker rooms. Dropping his toolkit and PDA intomthe metal box, he shut it and stalked away, heading to the landing bay. Halfway, he felt something around his ankles, sending him flat onto his face. Rolling over, he frowned up at his coworker, affecting a voice of mock indignation.
"Do you mind? I'm trying to escape this madness!" he said. This earned him a chuckle as sublieutenant Maenilis grabbed his hand, pulling him upright into a hug.
"Madness? You offend, good sir! This is the sweet sound of Progress!" the other man mocked, looking faux-offended. "The sound of maintennace is a beautiful sound indeed!"
Gaetiea chuckled, stepping to the side of the hall. "Heard you were headed out. What ship now? Or have you not been kicked off your old one yet?" he inquired, recalling the sublieutenant's fondness for practical jokes. Said sublieutenant just grinned.
"Reassigned to Valiant. Apparently the commander there has a preference for... what was it? 'Practical vengeance'. Sounds perfect." he snickered, drawing a smile from the maintenance tech.
"Well, my shuttle leaves in ten. Enjoy your new post, and try not to get pushed to dockside duty, y'hear? We have enough jokers already." Gaetiea noted, clapping his friend on the shoulder. The officer nodded, an impish look in his eyes as he pulled the tech into a hug.
"Gotta run myself. Enjoy your time off, mate. See you next week or so." he replied, waving as he headed off towards the Valiant. Gaetiea returned the wave, stepping off towards the shuttlebay.
- _ - _ - _ -
As the shuttle's engines wound down, the tech stepped out and headed across the landing field, wincing at the roar of a destroyer lifting off. Spotting his family, he headed towards them. Smiling at his husband and wife, he joined in their collective group hug and hoisted the kid - now almost five, hard to believe - onto his shoulder. Sharing the happiness of his famiky, they headed off towards their little home on the edge of the island.
/
Not the greatest writing, but it gets the point across.
NC can probably story:
/
Gaetiea yanked the cords from the sockets on the control panel, wrapping them around the fault-tester in hand. Glancing at the clock, he bit back a smile and headed towards the airlock, exchanging greetings and acknowledgements with the maintenance crew.
Stepping out onto the shipyard, he worked his way through the crowds of personnel to the locker rooms. Dropping his toolkit and PDA intomthe metal box, he shut it and stalked away, heading to the landing bay. Halfway, he felt something around his ankles, sending him flat onto his face. Rolling over, he frowned up at his coworker, affecting a voice of mock indignation.
"Do you mind? I'm trying to escape this madness!" he said. This earned him a chuckle as sublieutenant Maenilis grabbed his hand, pulling him upright into a hug.
"Madness? You offend, good sir! This is the sweet sound of Progress!" the other man mocked, looking faux-offended. "The sound of maintennace is a beautiful sound indeed!"
Gaetiea chuckled, stepping to the side of the hall. "Heard you were headed out. What ship now? Or have you not been kicked off your old one yet?" he inquired, recalling the sublieutenant's fondness for practical jokes. Said sublieutenant just grinned.
"Reassigned to Valiant. Apparently the commander there has a preference for... what was it? 'Practical vengeance'. Sounds perfect." he snickered, drawing a smile from the maintenance tech.
"Well, my shuttle leaves in ten. Enjoy your new post, and try not to get pushed to dockside duty, y'hear? We have enough jokers already." Gaetiea noted, clapping his friend on the shoulder. The officer nodded, an impish look in his eyes as he pulled the tech into a hug.
"Gotta run myself. Enjoy your time off, mate. See you next week or so." he replied, waving as he headed off towards the Valiant. Gaetiea returned the wave, stepping off towards the shuttlebay.
- _ - _ - _ -
As the shuttle's engines wound down, the tech stepped out and headed across the landing field, wincing at the roar of a destroyer lifting off. Spotting his family, he headed towards them. Smiling at his husband and wife, he joined in their collective group hug and hoisted the kid - now almost five, hard to believe - onto his shoulder. Sharing the happiness of his famiky, they headed off towards their little home on the edge of the island.
/
Not the greatest writing, but it gets the point across.
Re: Inside the [X]
Going to sig that so hard.Chairman Tiel wrote:="Foreplay detected. Mating mode enabled."
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from a completely ad-hoc plot device"
— David Langford
— David Langford
Spoiler:
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Chairman_Tiel
- Rear Admiral
- Posts:1890
- Joined:Sat Dec 01, 2012 9:39 am
- Affiliation:GLORIOUS REPUBLIC
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Archduke Daynel, PhD
- Rear Admiral
- Posts:1940
- Joined:Thu Dec 06, 2012 1:18 pm
- Affiliation:ZIF
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Archduke Daynel, PhD
- Rear Admiral
- Posts:1940
- Joined:Thu Dec 06, 2012 1:18 pm
- Affiliation:ZIF
Re: Inside the [X]
Zuguth, too, can into trend:
Alarm clock. Clothes. Coffee. This had been Agneta's morning ritual every work day since she started as a gate guard around 5 months ago, and today was no exception. After finishing the coffee, she put on her jacket and left her appartment and took the elevator to a walkway level.
In the walkway level lobby, Agneta met one of the receptionists, Derek.
"Good morning, miss Wilde! On your way to work?"
"Morning, Derek" she said with a smile. "Yeah, those pansarbears ain't gonna keep out of the city by themselves."
"Well, you should all know you have our full gratitude and support. Good luck out there!"
Agneta gave him a "thanks", and then walked out of the building.
She was standing on the walkway outside one of the grand apartment buildings, one of the ones commonly housing people with rather well-paid jobs who lived alone. But Agneta had mainly chosen it because it was next to a maglev station, which saved her a lot of time getting to and from work.
She went to the station and attempted to get on the train, but was stopped by a force field, and a soft, female computer voice spoke to her.
"Your half-year ride limit has expired. You can buy a new period, or a short-term card, at the nearest ticked station."
Agneta cursed quietly, and went to the ticked booth. She was surprised by the bored face that met her.
"You're... not an android" Agneta said, surprising herself by finding the fact odd.
"Quite some observation skills you got there, hon" said the tuz'iilan on the other side of the glass panel. "Sadly, this is one of the only jobs someone like me can get here these days."
"Now that's ridiculous, you have the same social rights as us humans."
"So the law says, but people seem to be less agreeable."
"Don't tell me. It's your fangs and claws and.. spiky parts. Make you look too violent to have a job that isn't in a cage of metal and plexiglass."
"Right on, hon." a slight smile seemed to reach the tuz'iilan's lips. "Anyways, what do you need?"
"Got myself a half-year ride account half a year ago, thought I would've left the city by now. Turned out I was wrong. So now I'm late to work, and I need a new account."
"Will do, how long you planning this time?"
"I'll go with the full-year one. Won't leave in the nearest future."
"All right, that'll be 700 credits please.. thank you.. now if you could stick your finger in here.. there you go, good girl. Well then, you're all set."
And so Angela left the ticked booth, an experience richer and 700 credits poorer.
The next train she managed to get on, and she got to the station on the edge of the city without any problems. She walked to the gate guard office, and looked up the unit leader.
Captain Jorgen Freint met her with a stern expression, the expression of a skilled ex-cop who had been put in charge of defending the city's eastern gates from wildlife and criminals alike, and now also had to deal with another of the new recruits.
"Sorry I'm late, captain Freint," Agneta said, "my maglev ride limit expired and I had to buy a new period, and when I returned.."
"No excuses, Wilde," interrupted the captain, "if this was Viperhawk mating season we'd have one half-destroyed farm and at least five dead civilians by now."
"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
"It better not. Now get dressed and get the cannon in tower B up and going."
Agneta walked over to the girls' dressing room and put on her uniform. It was similar to a police uniform, only with more protection. In fact, Agneta was quite sure it was just a police special forces uniform. She strapped on the equipment holster and hooked the walkie-talkie to the belt, fastened the medical supply bag to the hip and put the rifle on her back. She then got in the jeep with a couple others and headed towards Gate E2. Well there she locked up the gate post, walked up the stairs of tower B and manned the cannon, looking out over the road and the plains below. In the distance a herd of some kind of prey animals thundered across the dry grass, and in the forest a while away she could barely make out some airborne creature, perhaps a viperhawk, swooping down from a treetop.
Agneta leaned back, put on the radar, tuned in the radio to Station 21 and hoped for a calm day.
Alarm clock. Clothes. Coffee. This had been Agneta's morning ritual every work day since she started as a gate guard around 5 months ago, and today was no exception. After finishing the coffee, she put on her jacket and left her appartment and took the elevator to a walkway level.
In the walkway level lobby, Agneta met one of the receptionists, Derek.
"Good morning, miss Wilde! On your way to work?"
"Morning, Derek" she said with a smile. "Yeah, those pansarbears ain't gonna keep out of the city by themselves."
"Well, you should all know you have our full gratitude and support. Good luck out there!"
Agneta gave him a "thanks", and then walked out of the building.
She was standing on the walkway outside one of the grand apartment buildings, one of the ones commonly housing people with rather well-paid jobs who lived alone. But Agneta had mainly chosen it because it was next to a maglev station, which saved her a lot of time getting to and from work.
She went to the station and attempted to get on the train, but was stopped by a force field, and a soft, female computer voice spoke to her.
"Your half-year ride limit has expired. You can buy a new period, or a short-term card, at the nearest ticked station."
Agneta cursed quietly, and went to the ticked booth. She was surprised by the bored face that met her.
"You're... not an android" Agneta said, surprising herself by finding the fact odd.
"Quite some observation skills you got there, hon" said the tuz'iilan on the other side of the glass panel. "Sadly, this is one of the only jobs someone like me can get here these days."
"Now that's ridiculous, you have the same social rights as us humans."
"So the law says, but people seem to be less agreeable."
"Don't tell me. It's your fangs and claws and.. spiky parts. Make you look too violent to have a job that isn't in a cage of metal and plexiglass."
"Right on, hon." a slight smile seemed to reach the tuz'iilan's lips. "Anyways, what do you need?"
"Got myself a half-year ride account half a year ago, thought I would've left the city by now. Turned out I was wrong. So now I'm late to work, and I need a new account."
"Will do, how long you planning this time?"
"I'll go with the full-year one. Won't leave in the nearest future."
"All right, that'll be 700 credits please.. thank you.. now if you could stick your finger in here.. there you go, good girl. Well then, you're all set."
And so Angela left the ticked booth, an experience richer and 700 credits poorer.
The next train she managed to get on, and she got to the station on the edge of the city without any problems. She walked to the gate guard office, and looked up the unit leader.
Captain Jorgen Freint met her with a stern expression, the expression of a skilled ex-cop who had been put in charge of defending the city's eastern gates from wildlife and criminals alike, and now also had to deal with another of the new recruits.
"Sorry I'm late, captain Freint," Agneta said, "my maglev ride limit expired and I had to buy a new period, and when I returned.."
"No excuses, Wilde," interrupted the captain, "if this was Viperhawk mating season we'd have one half-destroyed farm and at least five dead civilians by now."
"Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
"It better not. Now get dressed and get the cannon in tower B up and going."
Agneta walked over to the girls' dressing room and put on her uniform. It was similar to a police uniform, only with more protection. In fact, Agneta was quite sure it was just a police special forces uniform. She strapped on the equipment holster and hooked the walkie-talkie to the belt, fastened the medical supply bag to the hip and put the rifle on her back. She then got in the jeep with a couple others and headed towards Gate E2. Well there she locked up the gate post, walked up the stairs of tower B and manned the cannon, looking out over the road and the plains below. In the distance a herd of some kind of prey animals thundered across the dry grass, and in the forest a while away she could barely make out some airborne creature, perhaps a viperhawk, swooping down from a treetop.
Agneta leaned back, put on the radar, tuned in the radio to Station 21 and hoped for a calm day.
BASH THE FASH CLASS WAR NOW
-
Chairman_Tiel
- Rear Admiral
- Posts:1890
- Joined:Sat Dec 01, 2012 9:39 am
- Affiliation:GLORIOUS REPUBLIC
Re: Inside the [X]
Would you like some feedback?
I realize not everyone's looking for critique so from now on I'll ask beforehand.
I realize not everyone's looking for critique so from now on I'll ask beforehand.
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