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Kalanna Rai
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 Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2011 7:35 pm Post subject: Edge of Glory- Chapter Seven BRAND NEW! |
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I've always enjoyed the idea of a sixty foot tall death machine. Enjoy!
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Edge of Glory
Chapter One: Monster
We were never supposed to survive our mission. We knew that from the moment I opened the mission brief. Suicide, plain and simple. If we failed...we were only five, there were hundreds like us, if not thousands taking into account mass production. If we succeeded we'd be heroes...and the greatest mass murders in intergalactic history. Of course we'd be dead, there would be no burden of guilt, only consignment to hell if such a place existed. Still, we had no choice. All we knew was the war that had raged for generations between our peoples. A war of extinction, of Genocide. They gave no quarter and asked none in return...what more fitting exercise of might than to simply end their home world? And so we went, we ghosted past the massive fleet that Sigma Prime used as her sword and shield. Her great defense was nothing. At the edge of orbit we deployed the linking mechanisms, great cables that connected the systems of our combat units together. And as the other four members of my unit fed me power, I fired the chest set plasma cannon into an active volcano on their northern continent. A blast that poured into the core of Sigma Prime and set off a reaction that had been theorized but never proven. I still have the sight of the planet's explosion etched into my mind, so beautifully destructive, the death of trillions in an instant. And then, as the debris raced outwards, as my unit was blown back by the force of the collapsing world, there was nothing.
We were never supposed to survive...
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Star metal. They'd been sent to collect Star metal. To forge weapons that would go into the hands of the army, to be the teeth and claws that tore at the enemy. To forge armor that would cover the forms of their soldiers and knights, to be the hide and scales that turned blows and saved lives. That had been the whole point of Master Magister Quntis and his expedition to Anvil mountain. To set up a summoning spell that would bring the stars that had been falling and collect them on the flat top of the mountains. To pile them into carts that would be hauled here to the fortress where the greatest of smiths would break the stars apart for the metals in them. To make the tools of war that the army so desperately needed.
Then the news had come, something had gone horribly wrong with the spell, Master Magister Quintis was dead and his spell had collected something else, something that was not Star metal at all. Or...well...the message hadn't been clear at all what it was the spell had summoned, it had been penned so hastily, so shakily, it was almost illegible. So now here they stood, Tybeth and Tyrial Whitewake, heirs to the Throne of Penn, waiting as the carts slowly made their way down from Anvil mountain.
"They're shrouded sister...my Sight cannot pierce the veil over them."
"Thus was the plan brother, to prevent spying eyes from seeing the great piles of metals collected. Whatever we have collected...obviously Magister Magheera thought it was wise to keep those spells active."
The twins kept their gaze trained on the road, waiting for some signal that the warded caravan was drawing near. It came near sundown, as a rider on a lathered horse charged up. "My Lord, my lady, the wagons draw close. Magister Magheera bids me to ask you how high the ceiling in the great hall is and if a couple of the senior apprentices might cast a stone moving spell upon the wall. What the wagons hold is...very great...very great indeed."
Tybeth and Tyrial exchanged a look between each other before looking back to the rider. What could be so massive that the great hall was needed to house it?
"The formal hall has ceilings nearly one hundred reeds* high while the castle hall has a ceiling only sixty reeds* high. The formal hall also faces the outside though the stained glass windows that once decorated it were stone shifted over generations ago. That one will likely suit your needs best." Tybeth's voice was smooth, reassuring, and gentle as she smiled toward the rider.
"It is as my noble sister has said. The formal hall has been converted for more practical use these days. I believe there were plans to turn it into a craftsman's hall...although most craftsman have been balky to leave their shops behind. They believe that they would never be allowed to return."
Tybeth placed a gentle hand on her brother's shoulder, smiling serenely at him, as if to scold him for his harsh words. "Tell Magister Magheera to move the wagons around to the west wall, the apprentices may use their spells there and give her access to the formal hall. Hopefully that has enough space."
The rider bowed his head to the pair of them and raced off again, leaving a cloud of dust at his heels. Tybeth and Tyrial watched him go for a moment, before turning and wandering through the castle, the formal hall their ultimate destination. It was sad, in a way, that their ancestral home had been transformed so. Everywhere the finery was gone, hidden away in other, remoter locations to ensure it's safety. The great windows were now mere splits, perfect for firing arrows out of but horrible for light. They lived in a world of fire light and mage light, cast by fireplaces and the mage globes that hung everywhere.
Their pace was unhurried although they felt the rumblings of magic stirring swiftly as they made their way through the winding passages of Penn Castle. Magister Magheera must already have been waiting for the wagons to have detoured so swiftly. That or the senior apprentices had been sent ahead. They paused in the doorway, the old ironwood doors creaking open slowly under their touch, to watch as the magic took hold.
Stone rippled backward, changing in shape, becoming less a solid wall and more a doorway on the end of the hall. Not a single block of stone was wasted as the new doorway was reinforced, made just as strong as the surrounding wall. It was a massive doorway, nearly seventy reeds high and forty wide, bigger than anything either of the royal twins had seen before. Except for maybe the great buildings where boats were built and launched.
It was through that doorway the first came, levitated by sweating mages, the beasts of burden left behind. The last rays of sunlight struck it's metal body, reflecting off of it in a bloody crimson hue shot with the last fragments of solar gold. It was rotated, lifted by the same sweating students, each of which looked as though they were about to drop, then it was gently set on it's...feet resting against the western wall.
It was huge, sixty reeds tall at a minimum, impressive and imposing. It was shaped like a man in armor, or it looked like a man in armor. The shoulders were broad, the limbs jointed and strong, the head without a face though it had eyes and a slight bulge that could have been a nose. "It's a construct brother...some great and massive construct."
"Aye m'lady. This is what Master Magister Quintis died to bring us. This and four others and a heap of Star metal scraps. These things m'lord, m'lady...they're made from solid star metal, the like of which none of the smiths with us have ever seen before. It's been worked, shaped, molded, just like those. It's harder than anything we have. I had to use enough magic to sink a ship just to heat one of the scraps enough for it to grow warm." Magister Magheera's voice was crusted, old, betraying her common fishing village roots. The woman herself was strong and vital, powerful looking, with calloused hands that had hauled many nets before her talent had been noticed.
She stood with Tybeth and Tyrial as the other four constructs were moved into the hall, each coming to rest against the stone. Five in all, each slightly different and unique. Two were slightly feminine in appearance, or well, build. They looked no less deadly than the 'male' three but their limbs were longer and a little more slender, their torso's slightly slimmer. But still made of solid metal.
"Whoever sculpted them did so poorly, they're barely human looking, unless of course whoever sculpted them looks like a half finished person. All angles and such. But the smiths don't think so and neither do I. These things are armor plated, heavy armor, and look at the damage done to them. The great gashes, the dents. Whatever battle they fought...I don't believe we want to face that opponent my lord and lady. We can barely face the Darkeners."
At the mention of the name, shudders ran through those present. The Darkeners, those faceless hordes of fanatics that claimed the world was impure and needed to be purged in shadow so that the light, when it came again, would be pure. They were the horde that constantly tainted the land, consuming villages to make more faceless minions, more walking shadows, and more twisted abominations. Leaving only polluted land and corrupt magic behind them. There were even rumors that elementals they came across were changed, that the five elements were subdued and broken into a sixth, the element of Shadow.
"These will be our weapons then, against the Darkeners. Golem craft and the workings of constructs are not unknown to us. We shall repair them, renew them. We shall make them fight our enemy. What Darkener would be able to stand against such a construct?" Tyrial's strident voice drew muted cheers from the crowds that were gathering to stare in awestruck silence at the massive things.
Magister Magheera coughed, glancing at Tybeth for permission to speak free criticism. When the permission was given, she coughed again and spat in to a rag she kept in her sleeve. "With all due respect m'lord, animating constructs of that size, that foreign make...it will cost lives. It will take the best of us, the most powerful of us, every ounce of our power and our lives besides. Can you spare us? All of us. The Magisters that teach the young and make the potions that heal the army, the enchantments that imbue every blade and every armor piece? Can you spare us?"
"Have we another alternative? Either we sacrifice the Magisters, who's power is proven in strength. Or we must find another source, one that could become corrupt in the transfer. No Magheera, sacrifices must be made, these constructs must be powered. I leave it up to you who to choose. But we must have them. Could you not use the lives of criminals? We have plenty of those. Could you not strain the power from their souls but leave the taint of their death behind?"
"What you're asking me to do Lord Tyrial is foul. It is what the Darkeners do to create their army of 'converts'. It is how the rape our land and blacken it, how they turn pure streams into burning pitch. You want me to adopt these methods?"
Tyrial stared at the Magister, his eyes tormented. "It is the only way, by the Gods Magheera if you can find another then by all means use it. But these constructs must be powered and soon. No matter what we do, Magisters will die, how many is up to you and your own resourcefulness."
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*Reed= A unit of measurement equal to just over 1ft
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And a hard choice for you. What will Magheera do, who will she sacrifice, and how many?
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Welcome to a new world, enjoy your stay.
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
Last edited by Kalanna Rai on Thu Jun 14, 2012 10:37 pm; edited 14 times in total
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Shillelagh
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| Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2011 11:11 pm Post subject: |
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Ummm... wow. When you explained the premise in the Inn, I was imagining a tech vs magic comedy of errors. Oh the zany hijinxs when two cultures collide! But this... wow... I kept waiting for the pilots to show up, but they never did, and it just got more and more grim...
So. I don't think Magheera is going to back down from her principles. Tyrial wants somebody to make sacrifices? He can be the first one to lay down his life for the golems.
If Tybeth gets the chance to play mediator, she might suggest the posibility of using plant life or animals instead of human life.
Tyrial will stick by his plan to use either the magisters or the prisoners.
_________________
 
Ihniwid Chapter 5 is up- find it here!
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| Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2011 5:49 am Post subject: |
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Omw! I was thinking of the name Reed yesterday... it just popped into my head, and I found this story with it... That's pretty cool. You read minds you know that? 
I love my fair share of war stories, and yours are usually best detail. I'll get to reading this tomorrow. I have to write up a priest's Learner's pages... you get the idea.... I'll catch up quick soon. No I'm just a typist... 
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Lost Omega
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| Posted: Tue Sep 13, 2011 9:38 am Post subject: |
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Dang... You're slapping us with a tough choice already? I don't see another way around this... I think they should sacrifice about a third of the magisters. They are way too important to the army overall and to sacrifice all of them is to shoot oneself in the foot.
_________________
Never meddle in the affairs of dragons as you are crunchy and go well with ketchup.
Check out my SG, Freedom's Call! Chapter 4 - Part 2 is up NOW! In Skiffiville!
What can you do if you live in a shoe but you ain't got no sole?
Have you seen my ninja? He's around here somewhere... Qk
I've got eggs!   
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Kalyssa Summers
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| Posted: Wed Sep 14, 2011 3:55 am Post subject: Re: Edge of Glory |
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Hi Kalanna, it is good to meet you- and your writing is fantastic! I love your dialogue and how you convey your characters especially. I'm looking forward to more of this! And I love that you invented a system of measurement it gives the world you're creating three dimensions.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | I've always enjoyed the idea of a sixty foot tall death machine. Enjoy!
We were never supposed to survive our mission. We knew that from the moment I opened the mission brief. Suicide, plain and simple. If we failed...we were only five, there were hundreds like us, if not thousands taking into account mass production. If we succeeded we'd be heroes...and the greatest mass murders in intergalactic history. Of course we'd be dead, there would be no burden of guilt, only consignment to hell if such a place existed. Still, we had no choice. All we knew was the war that had raged for generations between our peoples. A war of extinction, of Genocide. They gave no quarter and asked none in return...what more fitting exercise of might than to simply end their home world? And so we went, we ghosted past the massive fleet that Sigma Prime used as her sword and shield. Her great defense was nothing. At the edge of orbit we deployed the linking mechanisms, great cables that connected the systems of our combat units together. And as the other four members of my unit fed me power, I fired the chest set plasma cannon into an active volcano on their northern continent. A blast that poured into the core of Sigma Prime and set off a reaction that had been theorized but never proven. I still have the sight of the planet's explosion etched into my mind, so beautifully destructive, the death of trillions in an instant. And then, as the debris raced outwards, as my unit was blown back by the force of the collapsing world, there was nothing.
We were never supposed to survive... |
Wow...this gave me the chills!
-------------------------------
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
Star metal. They'd been sent to collect Star metal. To forge weapons that would go into the hands of the army, to be the teeth and claws that tore at the enemy. |
"Teeth and claws"= awesome![/quote]
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
The rider bowed his head to the pair of them and raced off again, leaving a cloud of dust at his heels. Tybeth and Tyrial watched him go for a moment, before turning and wandering through the castle, the formal hall their ultimate destination. It was sad, in a way, that their ancestral home had been transformed so. Everywhere the finery was gone, hidden away in other, remoter locations to ensure it's safety. |
Aw :/
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
Their pace was unhurried although they felt the rumblings of magic stirring swiftly as they made their way through the winding passages of Penn Castle.
Magister Magheera must already have been waiting for the wagons to have detoured so swiftly. That or the senior apprentices had been sent ahead. They paused in the doorway, the old ironwood doors creaking open slowly under their touch, to watch as the magic took hold.
Stone rippled backward, changing in shape, becoming less a solid wall and more a doorway on the end of the hall. Not a single block of stone was wasted as the new doorway was reinforced, made just as strong as the surrounding wall. It was a massive doorway, nearly seventy reeds high and forty wide, bigger than anything either of the royal twins had seen before. Except for maybe the great buildings where boats were built and launched. |
its as if the magic was real with psychical characteristics. The magic here could be touched, and felt. Awesome!
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
Magister Magheera's voice was crusted, old, betraying her common fishing village roots. |
Interesting way to bring her to life.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
At the mention of the name, shudders ran through those present. The Darkeners, those faceless hordes of fanatics that claimed the world was impure and needed to be purged in shadow so that the light, when it came again, would be pure. |
O.o
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
"What you're asking me to do Lord Tyrial is foul. It is what the Darkeners do to create their army of 'converts'. It is how the rape our land and blacken it, how they turn pure streams into burning pitch. You want me to adopt these methods?"
Tyrial stared at the Magister, his eyes tormented. "It is the only way, by the Gods Magheera if you can find another then by all means use it. But these constructs must be powered and soon. No matter what we do, Magisters will die, how many is up to you and your own resourcefulness." |
Wow, what a decision!
| Kalanna Rai wrote: |
And a hard choice for you. What will Magheera do, who will she sacrifice, and how many?
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My answer: She should not. She should quest to find an alternate source
_________________
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The Three Phrase Law / Aisle3 Siren (DR, Lover's Court)
Love. Beauty. Inner Whole.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Sep 15, 2011 9:41 pm Post subject: |
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Poll is up, votes to be had, new chapter before a week passes...
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Thu Sep 15, 2011 11:23 pm Post subject: |
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Another fine example of excellence Kalanna! I really look forward to everything you write lately, which is saying something as you have been writing so much  The premise here is a really intriguing sciffy/fantasy blend and I'm greatly looking forward to more.
I would've suggested that even though they sacrifice lives, as these machines are technological, they manage to resist 'animation' as golems... but alas I did not get here in time.
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 CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...  
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Sep 15, 2011 11:54 pm Post subject: |
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| Thunderbird wrote: | Another fine example of excellence Kalanna! I really look forward to everything you write lately, which is saying something as you have been writing so much The premise here is a really intriguing sciffy/fantasy blend and I'm greatly looking forward to more.
I would've suggested that even though they sacrifice lives, as these machines are technological, they manage to resist 'animation' as golems... but alas I did not get here in time. |
*chuckles* And who said I can't keep that in mind? Because wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake?
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 6:29 pm Post subject: |
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Alright, here it is, chapter two. Also...I asked a couple of totally unconnected people to pick either 1 or 2 to decide if the mecha came to life with animation. Here is the results. Enjoy!
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Chapter Two: Hope of Salvation
I never saw myself as a killer. That's what the war made me in to. I know, I was bred for it, from parents that were bred for it, from Grandparents that were genetically altered in the fetal state for it. But when I was little, my so called duty was a far off thing. I was a 'why' child. Why do the stars shine, why is the sky blue, why must gravity always pull us down? The older I got, the more I learned...and the less. I learned quickly that people tolerated for only one reason. Because somewhere out there was a mecha that would only work once I got in the cockpit. And those mecha were our key to winning the war. They were so crucial, so valuable to our efforts that couples gave up their children to science fore experimentation just so that they could become more effective. I was a third gen, one of the few. We were supposed to be better, the genetics were supposed to have settled in us. And it's true, I was faster than anyone but another third gen, my body's systems just processed faster, my mind was stronger. I was a perfect pilot. The rest of my unit were second gens, common enough although they were the tail end, the last in their youth. We were all so young...and they sent us off to die.
I was never a killer...that's what the war made me into...
-------------------------------
Preparations had been made, arguments won and lost, and the castle a flurry of activity. The argument had raged and Magheera had torn her hair out in frustration against young Tyrial until Tybeth had stepped in. Always the rational sibling, the Princess had suggested an alternate method that had appealed to both Magheera and Tyrial. They would lose a few Magisters, no working of this size and shape could be completely without sacrifice. But to lose thirty Magisters was far more acceptable than to lose three hundred. Five, the key five, had been Artificers before the war. Master Golem makers. But, with materials so expensive, they had been unable to ply their craft for sometime. Feeling useless, when this opportunity had been presented not one had hesitated. Their memories were written down, their knowledge and know-how would live on in younger generations.
For the other twenty five, young Magisters were chosen. Those just out of their apprenticeship. Not yet part of the mass of enchanters that imbued the weapons and armor of the army. Not part of the brewers that made the potions. And not yet teachers of the next generation. They were strong and this would be the best use of their strength.
But, for the bulk of the raw magical power needed, Tybeth had a most unusual request. She had each of those young magisters go and subdue an elemental. The strongest they could hold with their powers. The elementals that these young folk brought back came from everywhere. Earth elementals that had lurked in field and forest and mountain. Water elementals from rivers, lakes, and the sea. Air elementals from every passing storm. Fire elementals from the blazes on the horizon or from deep under the crust of the earth. And the elementals of magic, collected from the ley lines themselves.
Each one of those elementals, when they died, had enough power to leave a crater where this castle stood four hundred feet deep. They were old, their power concentrated by many years of use. These were not the mouse-sized newborns, hours old and in danger of dissolving into a puff. These were centuries old ancients, bigger than a man in some cases, seething with powers that had grown stronger with every passing minute. Powers that had condensed inside them into something that was the physical manifestation of power. The cores of elder elementals were immune to magic and yet they were magic. To make something out of one took time and the knowledge that each shaving was worth more than any working a Magister could do.
By using the elementals, Tybeth had saved hundreds of lives and ensured that these constructs from beyond the stars were now a part of this world. That they would fight for these lives and this way of life. Or so everyone hoped.
When the day came to actually animate them, it was a strange mood that swept through those gathered in the castle and without. People were waiting, hoping, praying to the gods that this would work. That they'd be saved. They cheered the Magisters and the Elementals with an air of ragged determination, the cheers colored with muted desperation. They all watched as everything was set out, even the piles of star metal that had been found with the constructs. And then as the Magisters stripped down out of elaborate robes and into simple shirts and trousers, dipping fingers into glowing ink before beginning to chant.
Instantly power began to flow from the bound elementals into the young Magisters that had harnessed them, then from those younger Magisters into the elders that were slowly tracing the runes on the metal surface of the great constructs. They were traced large, swept over time and again in painstakingly precise succession. And when the Magisters had finished with what they could reach, they climbed higher and continued on.
At first, it looked like nothing was happening, that all they were doing was smearing glowing paint on the metal. Then people began to notice the elementals were shrinking as their power flooded out of them and into the constructs. And more, the constructs themselves started changing. The exclamations grew louder when people started to recognize familiar shapes that the constructs were taking on. Each of them had seen them all their lives, carved into religious symbols, as marble statues in churches or, if wealthy, as magical illusions.
On the far left, the construct where all the water elementals labored, it was taking on a blue hue. It's armor plating rippled, the wounds on it healing up neatly as power was applied, and a soft rippling effect came over the surface. From the shoulders, long and slender spires of metal rose, shaping down along it's back in the manner of dorsal fins. A crest rose from it's skull and two sleek metal tendrils along it's face even as a powerful tail formed itself from the nearby scraps at the base of it's spine. Celvarious, the God of the Waters...even a child could recognize him taking shape in that steel figure.
Next to him the earth elementals labored away with their Magisters and the metal had taken on a hue that in some places was a gorgeous green, in others a rich brown. The lower half had transformed, no longer humnan but more like those of a wild beast. Powerful, strong, with split hooves like those of the swift climbing Yuryuk. The plating itself had an almost vine and leaf pattern and horns had risen from it's brow, keeping close to the skull in a crown of spines. Telmei, God of the Earth, master of the beasts and man.
On the far right, the scraps had been nearly consumed and the heat was almost unbearable where the fire elementals worked. The construct there was absolutely massive, heavily plated with red metals that seemed to have veins of molten metal holding it together. Spikes rose from it's shoulders and ran from the top of it's skull all along it's back. How the Magister was still working and not dead, not incinerated by the heat of touching the creation nobody knew but he didn't seem to notice it. He just kept inking the glowing symbols on what was rapidly becoming a giant metal representation of Ertinnig, God of Fire.
Next to fire, the air elmentals were also dwindling down to scraps of their former selves. But the construct they labored to animate had been one of the more 'feminine' ones. This had become even more pronounced in shape and figure and long tendrils of steel formed what looked almost like a mane that surrounded the skull and ran the length of the spine. More of them decorated the arms and the lower legs. The armor had taken on a shimmering sheen, more silvery and streaked with golden tones, the silver and gold swirling hypnotically across the plates. Meiroria, the Goddess of Air and Thunder.
And in the center, flanked by either of these, was the last of the five. Here the magical elementals labored away on the slender and shapely construct. She, for it was doubtless a she, had been bleached an eye searing white. Here and there, a hint of violet seemed to creep in, but her radience was pure. Scraps had formed into the representation of wings behind her, becoming more fully realized with every slender plate that snapped into place. Kyioan, Goddess of All, the creator of life and magic.
The elementals were almost nothing but wisps, even the cores of their power had been drained into this effort. The Magisters were all skeletal, their lives now fueling the last strokes of the last mark, the command mark. On the center of the forehead, the command mark was what allowed others to control the golem or the construct. It's completion would finish the process and bring to life these creations from beyond the stars that had taken on the shape of the five great Gods of Yulne.
They were never finished....
The with the end of the elementals came the end of the magisters, all thirty dropping, runes incomplete. For a moment the glow lingered in every sigil and for a moment the people dared hope as the eyes of the constructs flashed brilliant light. Then there was a snapping noise, the sound of metal on metal as great holes appeared in the sides of the construct's skulls...and nothing. All went dark and the sense of quickening was gone.
Disbelife, that was the taste in the air. People couldn't understand why the Gods would show their favor in such a way, to have these titans of Star metal remade in their image, and then call home the Magisters before they could be completed. Slowly the crowds dispersed, muttering and screaming, their great hope to naught and all the time of the day wasted. Their accusatory stares flicked toward where Magheera, Tybeth, and Tyrial stood, blaming them when many had been convinced this wouldn't work anyway. They were the last three standing there, gazing up at the five lifelessly beautiful creations.
"Magheera...are you sure that it didn't work?"
Magheera snorted at Tybeth's question. "I can check if you like m'lady but if it had worked they'd have been walking off to do battle with the enemy right now. No...it was a very pretty display...but in the end...pretty is all it was." The elderly Magister turned and looked at the Prince and Princess. At his leashed fury, his hopeless anger. At her pained sorrow, her fragile hope. "Give me a moment, I'll see if there's even a spark of life in them."
Slowly the old woman walked forward, lifting her scarred hands toward the great machines. Her weathered features stared at the constructs in front of her and she carefully let a tendril of energy crawl across each. There was nothing...nothing...and then something. In each and every one a weak sign of life cried out for help, for aid. In each and every one, in the skulls of them, where those holes had opened up, there was life.
Magheera gave a startled shout, reaching out with her power to lift herself off the ground and toward the nearest. Standing on the scaffold that had been built to allow the Magisters to ink the symbols, she peered inside the hole in the side of the skull of the Kyioan construct. And the elderly woman couldn't believe her eyes. She couldn't believe that the smooth, black chamber existed. It was wide, wide enough to walk around in, to jump and dance in. Large enough to spread your hands in every direction. And crumpled in the center of it, wet and damp with melting chunks of ice scattered around, was a pale winged figure.
"As I live and breath....Tybeth! Tyrial! There's someone in here! Get a healer and get someone to check each of the others."
Quietly the old woman moved forward, doing her best not to slip as she reached out for the pale figure. It was twisted up in it's wings, it's slender form clothed in some strange material, the back of which had been shredded, as if the wings had just burst out of both fabric and the flesh below. The skin was cold and clammy to the touch, like the ice around it. The face was beautiful, just as Magheera had always expected a goddess to look. "There's power in you, so much power, I can feel your Talent just under your skin. Were you in here the whole time? Did you watch us, unable to escape because your construct was dead?"
She just sat there as the healers came and took the gorgeous woman away, staring at the dark blackness of the chamber for a long time. These people could only have come from in here...which meant that they'd been packed in ice to preserve them, like the morning's catch. Preserved so that someone could save them. They'd been freed by the spell...but if what had happened to their great constructs was any indication...they'd also been changed.
"Will they hate us for that I wonder?" But that was only one of the questions on Magheera's mind as she made her way down the scaffold and out of the room. If these people had come with the constructs...then the constructs were theirs. Which meant...it was up to them if they would fight or not. These people could potentially become yet another enemy...someone else that would have to be fought. Or they could yet save them all from the Darkeners. Until they woke...anything was possible.
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So, we've found the pilots...but something has happened. How will they react upon waking up to all the new changes? Onlly you know.
---------------------------------
Hope you liked.
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Sun Sep 18, 2011 10:31 pm Post subject: |
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I can see two ways this could work out. My first thought is that they'll play along with Magheera and the others, since they expected to die once the mission was over, anyway. In fact, they just might think that they are dead, and that this is a hellish, delusional afterlife. It'd certainly help them cope with their new bodies and the surreal magical world they find themselves in.
My second idea is that once of the royal siblings reveals early on in the discussion that their culture thinks that the pilots are their gods. The pilots, deep in what they think is hostile territory, play along with this ruse, thinking this to be a backwards culture. However, they have no idea how they were transformed, and they end up over their heads as they get worshipped and sent out to battle evil with their supposed godly powers.
With either option, I can only imagine that both the pilots and the kingdom are desperately trying to get the mechs operational again, albeit with different methods.
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Ihniwid Chapter 5 is up- find it here!
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| Posted: Sat Sep 24, 2011 11:41 am Post subject: |
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What an amazingly inventive solution to the genre blend you've come up with here Kalanna! Absolutely some of the best plotworking I've ever read. So imagination provocative its crazy!
OK, so you've mentioned that the physical forms of the pilots themselves have adjusted to match the changes in their crafts. They've grown wings, tails, fins etc... all reflecting the adjustments the magic had to the mechs they were inside. So this indicates to me that the mechs are completely reactive to the pilot's every move, being, in their original technological form, a huge, armored, second skin armed to the teeth and that to continue to have such a close bond requires that the pilots themselves have appendages of the nature of their own crafts.
So, now that the pilots have, as well, become reflections of the images of the primal elemental 'gods', they will obviously be worshipped as such. And most likely, the essences of those deities have in fact blended their own souls with the pilots. Therefore, the pilots awaken with vast wellsprings of knowledge of the local world they've become a part of from the perspectives of the ancient primal forces that helped in shaping the world itself. What we MAY find is that they may have innate enmities and friendships with one another as well, though all would be somewhat tempered with the memories of their original bodies and souls and the war they took part in where they destroyed that planet.
Play with THAT.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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| Posted: Wed Oct 05, 2011 11:14 pm Post subject: |
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A poll is up dear readers, and, more importantly a contest looms. Details upcoming but be assure the winner not only forever changes the story but walks away with a neat sum of fables as well.
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"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 9:35 pm Post subject: |
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| i just caught up with this...and i'm FLOORED!! i LOVE this!! the blending of ancient magic and novel technology is just fascinating! i love it! can't wait for more!!
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| Posted: Mon Oct 10, 2011 10:47 pm Post subject: |
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And so the plot thickens. Enjoy!
---------------------------
Chapter Three: Gods Made Flesh
My mother had a beautiful voice. It's my earliest memory, of her singing to me. I never remember the words, what song she was singing, only the melody. It's not something I can remember her singing in any other memory of mine...that slow sweet lullaby. I asked her about it once and she never remembered it either. Perhaps that was why I knew I wasn't dead, because as my body was twisted, wracked with pain in the chill of the cryo sphere, I heard a voice of surpassing beauty singing to me. And she was singing that slow sweet lullaby.
Now I have a beautiful voice.
---------------------------------
~Get up Sarah~
Her eyes fluttered open and she raised a hand against the brilliant light. She hurt...everywhere, a bone deep and weary ache that was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. And she felt...strange. As if she were both lighter and heavier than she'd ever been before. Sitting up was a struggle, something kept dragging her back, weighing her down.
~Like this, use these muscles.~
Her body moved, memories waking in it, and the weight redistributed and settled, her center of gravity changing as her balance shifted. She could feel...more. She could feel the air gliding across surfaces of her body that didn't exist, or never had. It was also then that she realized she was nude...or well mostly so. She glanced down, eyes widening at the sudden sense of nausea that came with the sudden movement.
~Give it a moment, our eyes are still adjusting. Look elsewhere, we're not yet ready to look at ourself.~
"Ourself?" Her voice, it rippled outward, clear and vibrant. A bell that made her suddenly aware of the multitude of sounds that had been around her and now suddenly ceased. Blinking again she hesitantly looked around, her lips parting in a gasp of awe.
Light...the world was light. Everyone and everything a thousand colored motes of brilliance. She could see everything, beyond everything. She could see the figure of an old woman, see every mote of the clothing she wore. Not just the creature who's hair had been clipped, but the woman who'd spun it, the woman who'd dyed it...the motes of dye...the plant it had come from...it was all so suddenly too much. And the light, the energy, the everything...the world.
~Breath. We must breath. Our vision, we must contain it, like this.~
Her eyes rapidly blinked, so swiftly that anyone onlooking would have thought her eyelids were vibrating. When she looked up again the world was as she expected it to be...only it was still made of light. She saw the energy of the world, the life, the power. She saw the truth of it, not the illusion of it.
~We will rise now. All is nearly complete. Soon we shall not feel so strange.~
"Who...are you?" The beautiful, musical voice had been speaking inside her head...inside her whole being. For a few moments she got no answer...then suddenly she just simply knew. That voice...it was herself...she was one. One with a power and presence, a being so vastly greater than herself that there was only one word for it. God. Or well, perhaps in this case Goddess.
She knew, with perfect clarity, the names of every person gathered around her. She knew their thoughts, their hopes, their fears. Their very souls were laid bare to her. She knew this world and every inch of it. She knew the danger it was in. She knew why she was here, Sarah McKenzie, why she and her crew had been saved by Kyioan and the other gods of Yulne.
In a lithe movement she was on her feet, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket fall away from her body as an afterthought, wings shifting with every movement she made. Bleached hands pushed white hair out of violet eyes, perfect face turning toward the rooms where the others would be waking, finishing their own bindings with their own Gods. The heels of her boots rang against the stone floors, her uniform largely preserved by the people that had dropped to bended knee behind her. Where the back had been shredded by the appearance of her wings, there was now a large heart shaped opening, the top of her uniform held on by the sleeves and a gently twisted strap around the neck.
She moved swiftly down the corridor, entering each room as her subordinates woke, a pale hand resting on the chest of each. "Peace, wake gently. There is yet time." Had she not done this, Ertinnig especially might have caused a good wake of destruction. He had chosen to bind himself to Derrick, the weapons expert, a man who by himself had had a volatile temper. Add to it the volcanic disposition of the god of fire and it would have gone quite badly. Instead the bulky redhead had lain there for a moment, his glowing eyes adjusting just as slowly as hers had.
The human part of her recognized the change in her friend. The veins of magma glowing magma that traversed the path of blood vessels and arteries in his body, the cooled volcanic rock that decorated shoulders, knuckles, and elbows. The crest of obsidian spines that rose from his skull and shoulders. The goddess in her noted how well Ertinnig's host had bound with him. "It's alright Derrick...you're alive...I've got to check on the others. Just relax and I'll be right back for you."
Judy was floating an inch off of her bed, the svelte mechanic staring at her with wide silver eyes. A long mane of platinum hair fluttered in a wind nobody else could feel, feathers of the same silken strands dancing with every graceful movement of arms and legs. "Sarah...we're..."
"We're alive and we've got a job to do. Listen to Meiroria, listen to yourself. And when you feel up to it, take a look at the mechs will you? See what's gotten fixed and what hasn't. We might have the knowledge of Gods...but when it comes to mecha...trust your human instincts."
She left the new goddess of air, knowing that behind her the crowd still followed in silent awe. She'd have to address them soon...but her crew was her first concern. Already Kyioan was becoming more of a hidden personality, letting the human that was Sarah come to the front. After all, the goddess had chosen her as a vessel not because she was an empty bowl to be filled, but because Sarah had the skills and knowledge that the goddess needed.
"Oliver...?" She knew he was awake but the groan that answered her words made her sigh in relief. "Get up mister. We've got work to do. I need you to get out the compass and sextant and break out those mental star charts...I need to know where in the hell we've managed to end up. Our...alter egos don't seem to be very forthcoming with that information other than to tell us this is Yulne."
Slowly the navigator got to his...hooves. His skin was a rather fetching olive color, the fur that covered him from a dark mahogany that matched his original hair color. Eyes the color of new spring leaves stared at her from under a brow adorned with a heavy crown of antlers. "You look positively angelic ma'am. I, on the other hand, look like Satan's nature loving brother Phil. Give me a few more moments to understand Telmei will you? He's a patient teacher but he also is rather...methodical."
Sarah gave a half chuckle. "It's alright, he knows he's slow...Kyioan knows he's slow...everyone knows he's slow. But he's not stupid. His patience is a wonderful thing. Perhaps you should go talk to Judy? Derrick is still having some adjustment issues."
"God...he was a hot head before. Was Ertinnig's choice really that wise in retrospect?" Oliver rubbed one of the points of his antlers, tugging at the remains of his uniform as a stray breeze from Sarah's wing stirred the makeshift loincloth."I don't think I'm going to get used to it being drafty. Perhaps I'll ask a good tailor for a set of pants."
Sarah was still chuckling as she moved into the last room, leaning on the door frame and staring at the figure that was actively playing with the water in the basin that had been on the nearby chest. And by playing with the water Terry had it dancing through the air like a liquid snake, curling it through slightly webbed fingers. The small unit's science officer looked like a kid on Gifting Day.
"Sarah...isn't this just fascinating? These...beings, eighth, perhaps even ninth dimensional cosmic entities have bound a fraction of themselves into us. Can you believe it?! The energies we're able to tap and command now...have you fully grasped it yet Sarah!?" He looked at her, blinking clear inner eyelids over cerulean eyes, his tail lashing animatedly. "Look at this, look at what I'm doing! It defies logic, physics, the mind...and yet it is. And the energy here Sarah...magic. The real stuff! I mean, you know me, I used to laugh at it. And yet...it's real!"
"It's energy Terry. Just a different form of it. And the people here are born with the genetics to manipulate that energy to greater or lesser degrees. Speaking of the people, perhaps it's time we collected ourselves and actually introduced ourselves properly. We're not actually their gods after all...more like the avatars of them. Demigods? I'm not sure, but we're not actually them."
"Heavens no. We're a small fragment of them in a human framework. Demigods I suppose works best. Perhaps the room with the mechs...that would be a good place to speak to them." He stood then, letting the water flow back into the bowl, falling into his customary place in the flight line up.
As she passed the rooms so too did the others, until the line of them made their way back through the swiftly parting crowd, through the unfamiliar hallways, and to the massive hall where their mecha stood...cold and lifeless, but repaired. Judy was forward in a flash, rising through the air with no resistance and looking them over before settling on the shoulder of her unit. Slowly the others followed suit, standing in the 'ready' position while Sarah turned to the gathering crowd.
It had grown as word had spread and people stood, hats in hand, each with and offering of some kind. Her lips quirked in a smile and she brushed white hair behind her ears again before speaking.
"People of Yulne...my name is Sarah McKenzie and I am the avatar of Kyiona. She and the others have called us from a place in the far stars. They have heard your prayers and we are that answer. But the Gods can grant us only a fraction of their power, give us but a pinch of their grace. For them to come, in all their glory, would only bring the destruction we work to prevent. But do not fear, we shall fight for you. Our...Titans...shall aid your armies, shall be your greatest sword and mightiest shield. But while the gods have brought us here...have come to rest in us...their their interference must end. Your prayers have brought you great weapons...but they must be wielded by your hands."
She turned, looking at the two young people that stood at the front of the crowd, just behind the old woman. A smile on her face, she inclined her head just a bit. "Lord, Lady...the Titans still slumber. But when they wake...we shall wait your command."
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How is Sarah's speech received by the people? What impression has she and her crew made here today? Only you know.
------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed!
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Tue Oct 11, 2011 3:24 pm Post subject: |
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LOVE this STILL!!
i'm going to say that the speech is processed for a moment...the people really werent sure what to expect, and this has definitely been some big news, so i'd say there's a pause...a brief one, before explosions of cheering. then the twins and the head Magister take them off somewhere private to discuss things more in detail.
keep it up! please and thank you!
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| Posted: Thu Oct 13, 2011 2:41 am Post subject: |
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Mmm, I think...
The crowd, being largely clueless, believes them to be avatars of the gods, and they are grateful. Tyrial is excited to have their power on their side, and he will want to act quickly. Magheera is going to be more cautious, thinking Sarah and co. to be the botched, imperfect results of a failed spell. Tyrial will want to fight the darkness immediately, while Magheera wants to analyze everything, and take it all slowly. Tybeth will once again be stuck in the middle, trying to play peacekeeper.
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Ihniwid Chapter 5 is up- find it here!
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| Posted: Mon Oct 17, 2011 7:07 pm Post subject: |
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really... Really... REALLY loving this!
The descriptions and the flow are just... amazing!
| Quote: | | Light...the world was light. Everyone and everything a thousand colored motes of brilliance. She could see everything, beyond everything. She could see the figure of an old woman, see every mote of the clothing she wore. Not just the creature who's hair had been clipped, but the woman who'd spun it, the woman who'd dyed it...the motes of dye...the plant it had come from...it was all so suddenly too much. And the light, the energy, the everything...the world. |
I can't say enough about how powerful this imagery was for me... on a philosophical level as much as anything it had an amazing impact!
On the downside, I felt the characters adapted to their new psyches a little too easily, too smoothly, no internal argumentative dialogue, no discernible difference between the humans they used to be and the gods that have infused themselves into them, not enough confusion, awe and wonder from the human minds.
But the way you delivered it sent us through that phase ever so gently and efficiently and now we can move on to other issues that go beyond the internal which I suppose you wished the focus of the story to remain on mostly.
Nevertheless, the whole idea and concept here is just dripping with tantalization sauce! Can't WAIT to see this tale develop!
Your DPs of late have been of a very interesting Meta-variety that seems to show new territory for meta-dps in general, almost warranting a new categorization of DP in general, a plot twist DP perhaps... regardless, its patentable I think.
And on this one, I'm going to suggest that the nation breaks out in a civil war, with PRIESTS on both sides of the fence. We've created a massive religious event here and a big faction would believe it to be a heresy and would want to resist it. This creates a lot of political inner conflicts in the nation as the pilot-gods go forward in an attempt to prove themselves warriors for the cause of the nation.
_________________
CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 11:36 pm Post subject: |
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Oh look a poll. You should vote.
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| Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2011 11:29 pm Post subject: Re: Edge of Glory- Suddenly A Poll |
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So yeah I'm really late on this one, but I thought I would share some of my thoughts.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | If we succeeded we'd be heroes...and the greatest mass murders in intergalactic history. Of course we'd be dead, there would be no burden of guilt, only consignment to hell.. |
Nice setting the tone here, good stuff.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | To forge weapons that would go into the hands of the army, to be the teeth and claws that tore at the enemy. |
Nice, nice
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | The twins kept their gaze trained on the road, waiting for some signal that the warded caravan was drawing near. It came near sundown, as a rider on a lathered horse charged up. |
There is something about this passage that feels a little disjointed. It could be that I'm tired though as I'm reading this.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | Tell Magister Magheera to move the wagons around to the west wall, the apprentices may use their spells there and give her access to the formal hall. |
Is there a reason why the apprentices cannot use their magic where they are instead of at the west wall. It's nothing to go into over detail about but perhaps it is something that needs to be pointed out.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | that their ancestral home had been transformed so. Everywhere the finery was gone, hidden away in other, remoter locations to ensure it's safety. |
Nice touch here, a clear example of comparing the memory to the present.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | bigger than anything either of the royal twins had seen before. Except for maybe the great buildings where boats were built and launched. |
Unless the sentence that starts with "Except..." is important to the story as a whole or an insight to the characters past, I would just edit it out. To me (and once again just an opinion) it seems that leaving it in takes away from the power of the sentence before it.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | The last rays of sunlight struck it's metal body, reflecting off of it in a bloody crimson hue shot with the last fragments of solar gold |
. Beautifully written, lovely detail.
| Kalanna Rai wrote: | | whoever sculpted them looks like a half finished person. All angles and such. |
There is just something about this sentence that I love! How spooky and concise it is just really works.
Good work!
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A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
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| Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 1:35 am Post subject: |
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And for all you patient people, a new chapter at long last. Enjoy!
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Chapter Four: And the Darkness Comes
Betrayal hurts. My father never seemed to understand how much the small falsehoods he told me hurt each time I discovered them. He never realized how little I trusted him or how often I cried in my mother's arms for comfort. I suppose I have always been overly sensitive in that respect. But as I grew older, my response to being deceived changed greatly. Sorrow turned to anger and when I am angry I grow stubborn. So now...this betrayal I find inexcusable above all others and I shall not stand for it.
Betrayal hurts...they will soon learn.
---------------------------------
"Any news?" Tybeth's voice was wrenched with worry, her large eyes wide as she surveyed the streets, face pinched with stress. Her long fingers were twisted in the pale grey fabric of her gown, her blond waves toyed with by a fickle breeze. Next to her, Sarah stood all in white, wings twitching to shelter the frail framed princess from the cold of the coming winter.
"The teams have been successful in retrieving the hearts of the great elementals. Judy isn't sure that they'll completely replace the power cores but-"
"But what other hope is there."
For a long moment the two of them stood there, watching as the smoke rose from charred buildings and angry shouts echoed on the air. The riots had mostly died down here in Sheth City but the war raged elsewhere. At a time when the country should have stood together, united against the growing darkness, they were more divided than ever. Some of that Sarah knew was her fault, she could have handled things better with the clergy of the respective religious orders. She could have handled that better with an early show of power...but Kyioan preached paitence and Sarah heeded her inner goddess. It still blindsided her so often, to have an extra voice in her head, commanding her movements at times. To have this power at her fingertips and still be so damn helpless.
Omniscience, if it was a gift Kyioan possessed the goddess had not shared. Sarah wasn't in all places at once, looking at all things at once. She had only human foresight to use and the perfection of human hindsight. And neither of those had prepared her for what had sparked the war...the arrival of other mecha. It hadn't done the people of this world any good to see that the avatars of their Gods were rattled by the appearance of more Titans from beyond the stars. Worse, these Titans worked while those of their Gods were ominously silent.
Perhaps the greatest blow to the confidence of the people though...these new Titans were working for the Darkeners. Villages blotted off the landscape with weapons the like of which the people here had never seen. But Sarah and her companions knew exactly what they were. Derrick had even been able to examine the marks and tell her that they'd been using the arm mounted plasma cannons at a tenth of maximum power.
That was enough, enough to shatter the will of the people and turn them against the Gods. They were called false illusions and deceivers. They were spat upon and shot at by more than one crossbowman. Just as many preachers preached against them as for them and the people...the people were caught in the middle. Sarah could understand their reaction, what they experienced was only a fraction of the emotions that seethed through her every day she stared at the idle machinery of her mecha. But Kyioan kept telling her to be patient and Sarah...she could only listen as she fought for control of herself and lost.
"Is my brother alright Sarah? Can you see him?" Tybeth's gentle voice brought her back to the present and out of her ever darkening thoughts, causing violet eyes to lock with the pale blue of the princess.
"I can look." This was something she could do, some small way she could be of use. She'd gotten to know Tyreal well enough that she could find him over the distances, eyes unfocusing on the world around her and gaze telescoping into the distance. She found the prince in a tent in a wooded clearing, pouring over a vast pile of charts. Next to his left hand stood a half empty wine glass, a harried look on his face as he stared at the parchment, lost territory darkened by magic. The most recent losses showed in a soft color of dove while older losses faded to a smokey charcoal color...there were many new losses.
He looked so...depressed. The fire and anger that had burned in him when he set out now cold ashes. But he was uninjured and unharmed in body, for all the abuse his mind and spirit were taking, and he seemed in no danger. Any good news would be a boon to Tybeth just now and Sarah let her gaze return to the immediate surroundings. "He's fine, planning their route for tomorrow I suppose as he's camped down for the night. And he'll continue to be fine, I promise you Tybeth." She rested a hand on the princess' shoulder. "The stones will arrive within the hour an I vow to you the Titans will move with the light of dawn. We shall take back what has been lost."
Tybeth smiled at her, patting her hand before turning away from the battlements and their depressing view. "You're kind Sarah and I know you labor under the directive of the Goddess, but all of what has been lost cannot be won back by force. Still...perhaps when the tide of war comes into our favor we can start regaining the trust of the people again. I still wish that...nevermind. We cannot undo what has been done, not even you with your connection to the Goddess. We simply must continue on. Goodnight Sarah."
Sarah remained on the battlements for a time after Tybeth retired, watching from on high as the heartstones of five ancient elementals were brought into the palace. Then she moved down the stone steps, through the echoing corridors with their rampant whispers, and finally into the hall where their five mecha rested...useless for the great part. Judy was surveying the stones, testing them not just with magic, but with one of their few tools that they had on hand. She stared at the data pad, watching the readings on the stones as she sent pulse tests into them.
"Well Judy...they going to work or have we made another false promise to all these people?
The mechanic glanced up, silver eyes holding level with Sarah's violet ones. "There's a hell of a lot of power in these things Sarah. Can the power the mechs? Without question. However, they can also blow them to kingdom come. These things put off more power than I thought at first...I mean they could fry us all if I don't calibrate the connections right. But yes, I can have them working by morning. Derrick is itching to get the weapon systems online and I know that Oliver wants to get up and get an accurate read on the stars. If we've got people from home here..."
"Yeah, I know. We're not as far away as we assumed. But didn't Oliver say he'd found familiar stars? That we were just looking at them wrong? I just can't believe that the Perfecta would do something like this. Then again...the did order us to turn our weapons on a planet and-
"It's over Sarah. Dwelling on Sigma and what happened isn't going to bring those people back. But if we don't put our collective foot down here we're going to watch this planet get torn to hell too. This is our chance to make up for that. A life for a life and a world for a world. You don't think I'm guilty about that too...hell Sarah we all are. You might have pulled the trigger but we loaded the bullets for you and cocked the gun."
Derrick's heavy hand rested on her shoulder as the big weapons specialist seemed to materialize out of no where, wisps of flame dancing behind his eyes. "We could have pulled the plug and told you no. But you followed orders just like we did. You expected to die out there, just like we did. And that would have been punishment for the crime. But we didn't, we live, and we can do some good. Now let's get moving Judy. I want to start trashing ass in the morning and get some fucking answers."
The magma veins on his skin pulsed with the statement as he took a moment to control the flash of temper, picking up the massive white stone and walking toward Sarah's unit with it. Godly strength made manifest as he looked like an ant carrying a large pebble, leaving a trail of smoldering footsteps in his wake. It was clear that neither of them were taking this sudden arrival of folks from home in any better fashion than Sarah herself.
But there was little she could do to help them. Until morning came, Derrick and Judy would labor away to get the mechs operational again. And then, then Sarah would get to the bottom of this one way or the other. She'd find out why the Perfecta had suddenly come in force, what they wanted with this world, and why they weren't simply trying to talk to the inhabitants.
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In orbit around the world known as Tatrine Beta, the Starbreaker turned lazily on it's axis to preserve gravity for the crew inside. Commander Bennit stared out one of the observation blisters at the green and blue jewel that was the nearly unspoiled world. "Just look at it Thompson. Abundant resources. Mild climes. The perfect place to finally settle. And best of all, the natives are barely a type two society. It won't be long before we'll be able to settle in and call it home."
Morris Thompson wasn't an officer of any kind. He was the son of Rigel Thompson, Third Perfect, and one day would inherit that seat when his father passed on. It was his father's vision, that the Perfecta cease the endless interstellar roving and find a world to call their own. Sigma Prime had always been that choice but the war with that advanced civilization had ended tragically for that dream. Luckily, they'd found this world instead and, for the past ten years, they'd been busily working in secret to prepare it. Once Sigma had been destroyed, they'd unveiled this gem of a planet to lift the hopes of the ship-bound people of the Perfecta.
And it had worked much to Morris' chagrin. He'd been so sure that this whole crazy secretive scheme would blow up in his Father's face and the man would start looking for a planet to terraform instead of take over. But no, the people had loved the idea from the very start that this world would be there own. They didn't know about the fear campaigns that had been conducted on the populace, the war that had been started by these strange and backwards lifeforms. Or how armored mecha units had been sent in to escalate things.
They didn't know about the strange force that the natives referred to as 'magic' that interfered with ship systems and that puzzled the scientists that studied it. Morris thought the world was fascinating and would have given anything to learn more about it. But tomorrow a major offensive would be launched against one of the largest 'kingdoms' that would wipe it off the planet. Word would be spread and thus, when the Starbreaker and the fifteen other ships in orbit revealed themselves, the natives would think they were gods. Would bow before them...would become genetic fodder and a slave cast to serve the new masters. That was the plan and Morris was disgusted.
But there was nothing he could do about it. Come morning...it would all be over. So instead he gave the Commander a sickly smile, eyes fixed on the planet below them. "Of course Captain. I'm sure everything will go smoothly."
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Well, what does the dawn bring? Only you know.
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I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. The decision is rather open ended because I want to see what interesting ideas you could come up with. Is there a battle, is it a massacre, is it somehow stopped by the forces of fate? I'm interested to know and I hope you liked.
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Shillelagh
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| Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 2:52 am Post subject: |
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Hmm. Well, I'm not particularly interested in a play-by-play of peasant squabbling, even if it is this drastic. The new story element, though... I find that part fascinating. I'd like to follow Morris a bit longer. I could see him trying to be manipulative in some way or another. He's got some moral conflicts going on, so that's a plus. Maybe he runs a smear campaign to let the population know the planet is inhabited... maybe news leaks out and he has to decide how to respond to allegations... maybe he's on a routine mission that goes horribly wrong when Sarah and co's magic does something weird.
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Ihniwid Chapter 5 is up- find it here!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2011 1:46 am Post subject: |
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Last call on suggestions. Poll goes up tomorrow.
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"Music makes you braver."
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Thunderbird
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| Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2011 10:43 am Post subject: |
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The arrival of a major planetary invasion force is scheduled for that time.
I love the direction this story is going already, though I feel we may be getting there a bit too quickly. I'm feeling a bit shorted - great concept and awesome writing but we're breezing through too much of the experience without much detail. At least that's how it feels right now, like a skim through of a story rather than the exploration of one. But then, I often find that's just the author's way of getting to the meat of the tale that he/she had in mind all along. So I'm giving this one that due right now, thinking you may have an idea and all this has just been set up for that concept so far.
Either way, still loving it and looking forward to more. I'm sure those craft will be accessed soon, allowing the pilots the power of both divinity and technology - a superior force, even in small numbers, to their merely technological invaders.
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CHAPTER 25: Near-Light Speed (NEW CHAPTER! (12/4/2011))
Zephyrrr! And...
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Andolyn
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| Posted: Wed Dec 21, 2011 9:01 pm Post subject: |
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so sorry!! stopped getting notifications & missed the new chappie. just found it and caught up. LOVED the new element!
ima say lets have that battle & cut these people a break. the mechs are operational & win this battle giving the "higher ups" ((teehee)) a little something to think about. i'm going to f5 that earlier comment and also say we see a little more from Morris. =)
still loving it! keep going!!!
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2012 2:34 am Post subject: |
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Fear not T-Bird. What has been skipped over is not lost. It will be reconstructed piecemeal in the upcoming chapters. Otherwise by the time we got to this point you'd be bored and twenty chapters in knowing how long winded I get.
So I'm sorry for the abrupt shift but there is a Plan. Keep calm and carry on...and don't forget to vote, new poll is up.
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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| Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2012 3:31 pm Post subject: |
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And for your reading pleasure, a new chapter. Enjoy!
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Chapter Five: Dawnbringers
Dawn is a time of change. It's the transitory time when all that which exists in the darkness slinks away into shadows and dark recesses and the fears of the unknown are banished. I have seen many a sunrise, be it the cresting of a star along the edge of a planet as the orbit shifts to reveal it. Or with my feet firmly on the soil of this world, watching as the twin orbs bath the horizon in light as they climb ever higher in their arc across the sky. I see it even more clearly now, with sight beyond sight and an understanding no longer fully human. I know now the importance of the dawn. And today, we break the closing grip of nightfall. Today we are the Dawnbringers.
Dawn is a time of change...
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Morris stood on the bridge, staring through the massive forward observation blister at the planet below, the twin suns moving into position to sweep across the heavens from their opposing arcs. He couldn't help but think of all those people just waking from slumber below, not knowing that soon their lives and the world as they knew it would come to an end. In the high orbit, fifteen carrier/cruisers were turning so that the massive hangar doors on their bellies face the planet surface. On the massive holo-screens he could see the scramble of action in the hold as pilots readied their mecha units for deployment in what would be a short, victorious offensive.
"Isn't it glorious Thompson? Commander Bennit moved up to join him in gazing down at the world. "And just think, we'll be enjoying lunch at our first outpost there. As soon as the people have been dealt with we can begin to settle in. A wonderful day."
Morris glanced toward the man for a moment, then gazed up at the holo-screen again as the squad leaders began to report in to tactical, then back out at the planet below. "Yes...glorious. Although I don't think I'll enjoy eating lunch in a crater much."
Commander Bennit chuckled a little, taking Morris' dry statement as humor. "No need to worry about that. By the time we get down there the mechs should have cleared a large amount of the debris and we'll be bringing down the buildings of course. I'll make sure a suitable spot is chosen for our luncheon. Now, if you'll excuse me, they're launching and I should oversee the offensive." And he walked away chuckling at what was obviously his own joke.
In his head Morris wished bitterly that there was something that could be done. Those people down there...they didn't deserve to die. They didn't deserve to have their homes obliterated and their enemies despoil their land. They'd never done a damn thing to the Perfecta and this...this was nothing short of murder in cold blood. Morris wasn't a religious man, he'd never believed in any higher powers or governing forces of the galaxy that weren't scientifically plotted and provable, but now he fervently wished there were. Because only God could save these people now.
He could see the mecha-units now through the observation blister, sliding out into the surrounding space like grim metal ghosts. They were like flies or ants, insects of some kind, drifting toward an untended piece of food to make their meal. Overhead, the voice of the ship's A.I. counted down the remaining moments before they would move in and, like a plague of locusts, destroy all in their path.
"Commander Bennit! Sir I have launch signatures detected from Tatrine Beta! Repeat I have five distinct mech launch signatures from the planet and they are moving in hot. Jesus!" The holo-screen was suddenly split as the young tac-officers terminal data was linked with the bigger display to allow everyone on the bridge to see it and Morris' heart lurched.
Commander Bennit's head whipped around, staring at the blinking data codes. "Who the hell was surface side! I want their goddamn asses on a platter! I will make sure that they spend the rest of their days scrubbing fungus off a..." His words tapered off as the computer identified the transponder codes that went with the five inbound mech units. Even Morris couldn't believe what he was seeing.
It couldn't be. It was impossible. But that's what the computer was adamant, the five inbound mecha were the Breakers of Sigma Prime. Or were at least sending out their transponder codes, the energy signatures on file for the five combat mecha no longer matched. Morris strained his eyes at the observation blister, staring out into space, trying to spot the five ghosts.
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The first unit to fall was that of a new commander, hovering at the leading edge of the assault wave, eager to unleash destruction. The last thing the young commander ever saw was a mecha unit like no other, it's metal plates looking more like obsidian and charred stone, it's joints rimmed in red magma and glowing symbols shimmering on the surface. In it's left hand it held a shield of the same material, in it's right a sword of fire. And then that sword came down, cleaving through the armor of his own unit with the ease of a razor through tissue paper and his sensors went dark.
Even as the loss of that first unit came across the frequency, others were already suffering similar fates as the ghosts impacted against the mass of the assault wave with deadly consequences.
A more seasoned group took evasive maneuvers against a mecha with a silvery sheen that crackled with energy and pale, vaporous runes. But the long hair-like filaments of metal formed a cloud around it as they drifted with the force of it's momentum, every shot they fired against it dodged nimbly, and the whip in it's hand lashing out in respose. Crackling with a deadly and vibrant energy, where it struck fragments flew into space, glittering like precious jewels in the half light that existed. The sheer overflow of energy from the filaments and the whip strikes overloaded the internal powercore of the mechs they hit, resulting in explosions that reduced the units to fragments and slag.
A third group thought that the unit that set upon them was laughable. It had antlers like some mutated deer and animal legs ending in hooves and appeared to be covered in moss alongside symbols that shimmered with emerald energy. They stopped laughing when the massive hammer it clutched smashed through their unit commander, sweeping him aside with a neat movement while his shattered mecha spun away, throwing fragments of sundered metal with every aimless rotation. It impacted another group nearby and detonated, causing a chain reaction that took several more with it. And then the hammer swung again as the mossy deer mech moved forward.
A fourth mecha was slick as an eel, twisting and turning through the spaces between units in a way that the combat mechs of the perfecta could never have moved...because no human could ever have moved like that. The wicked spear in it's hands swept out, piercing armor neatly with it's serrated tip, or just smashing through units with the impressive strength of the blue-glowing mech. It's symbols wavered with a watery light, a soothing last sight for many Perfecta pilots.
Now the perfecta pilots were getting their act together. Guns were brought to bare, plasma cannons charged as they began to fire at the strange mecha that were wading through them like men stomping ants. More often than not, the shots struck other Perfecta Mechs, the few that didn't were neatly deflected by the strange units. By shield, by spear, hit like a baseball by the giant hammer, or cracked aside by the flick of a whip. But the worst was yet to come.
It looked like an angel, it's visage beautiful, it's metal alabaster. Pure light with the softest edge of purple hue shimmered from it, the symbols painted upon it absolutely gorgeous, like the blossoms of an unfolding flower. In it's right hand it held a winged staff, set atop it a crystal that shimmered with a soft glow. She, for it was most obviously female, had not moved when the other four had engaged, sweeping around her flanks to bring devastation. Her impassive visage had merely observed.
Perhaps that's all she would have done had some panicked fool not shot a missile at her. It impacted an unseen shield, it's flame dissipating harmlessly. Slowly the staff moved, the glow at the tip becoming more and more pronounced as it did, until it was parallel with the front of the thing that was more a work of art than a combat unit. Both hands hovered near it, encouraging the glow even brighter. More weapons fired, more detonated against that unseen shield, and then bolts of light exploded from that glowing crystal.
The units they hit shattered, flying into a thousand spinning fragments that winked like red hot stars before fading into dark oblivion. Three times the bolts pulsed forward and then the staff ceased to glow and was taken up again as the beauty moved into combat with a stunning ferocity. The wrath of heaven unfurled as the leading edge of dawn broke over the edge of the planet behind her.
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Sarah was at first not aware that she'd been hailed, that communication had been opened with her, or that a man was yelling at her from the a small window in the corner of her vision. It wasn't until she paused for a moment and looked around for the next group of mecha units that she became aware of him and what he was saying. "Unit 871624 Mackenzie stand down! I repeat stand down!"
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Morris couldn't believe it. The sheer level of destruction that had created a debris field between the fifteen carrier/cruisers and the planet. Five. There were only five. But they were winning. They fought with an inhuman power, a supernatural strength. And Morris wanted to cheer for them. It wouldn't have been wise though, especially with Commander Bennit trying his best to hail them...or well hail the commander of the unit leader. Sarah Mackenzie, the woman who'd killed a planet. Morris didn't think that Bennit was going to hail her, these things might have the same transponder codes as the Breakers of Sigma Prime...but these were not Prefecta military mechs anymore. Someone had rebuilt them. Someone who knew a hell of a lot more about mech design and piloting than the Perfecta did.
Then, much to the shock of everyone on the Starbreaker's bridge. The hail was answered, the great holo screen leaping to life as out in space combat stilled for a moment. The face on the screen was not the one everyone expected, the one known from propaganda posters and news articles. It was paler, an almost inhuman color, with brilliant violet eyes and white hair. It stared at them calmly for a few moments, a slightly reproachful look on it that made Morris want to apologize for everything he'd ever done wrong.
"Unit 871624 Mackenzie you are in breach of protocol, power down and prepare to surrender your arms." Bennit's voice was authoritative and Morris had to hand it to the man, he'd recovered his attitude quickly enough. Bennit was someone used to being in control and he must have been using that sense of entitlement to power as a ward against that reproachful look.
"No commander. I will not. I no longer answer to the protocols and my unit number will no longer compel me to obey your orders. I am slightly beyond that now. However, there has been enough blood spilled here today, you may recall your troops and withdraw from Yulne's space without further engagement from those under my command. Should you choose to press this conflict I will be forced to eliminate the threat you pose. And as you've seen I have the power to do that."
Her voice was...beautiful. It wasn't the voice Morris had expected to hear, the voice known from news clips and propaganda posters. It was ethereal and gorgeous, haunting enough for him to know he'd always remember it. He noted how the color had drained from Commander Bennit's face and could, in part, share the man's terror. The genetically engineered pilots were programmed down to the DNA to obey orders given with their personal unit number. Like the mechs they were bound to, the pilots were dangerous weapons and precautions had to be taken. To find that Sarah Mackenzie was immune to hers was unthinkable. What had happened to the Breakers of Sigma? What had done this to them?
Bennit was in shock too deeply to respond and Sarah was obviously waiting for a swift answer. Morris knew he could give it, he had technical rank on Bennit. But was it too late for diplomacy? Could cooler heads prevail? This was a chance for him to prove what he'd thought all the long, that they didn't have to take a world by force and make slaves of the natives. That co-habitation was possible. But if it wasn't he could likely get them all killed....
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What will Morris decide? Will he give the order to withdraw or will he try something else instead? The choice is yours and yours alone!
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Terribly sorry about how long this took...I hope you liked!
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Shillelagh
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| Posted: Thu Feb 16, 2012 8:25 pm Post subject: |
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Epic! I have no idea how I managed to miss this, but I'm totally disappointed that I had. Some of the phrasing in the beginning reads a bit stilted and backward, as if comprehension has taken a backseat to poetic prose, but by the time you start describing the Earth mecha, it reads well enough. It's nice to see these mechs work so well; it's about time something went their way.
As for the decision... I think Morris should retreat. This battle is obviously not going their way. What he will tell the other men is that they need to fall back, regroup, and learn more about their new enemy so that they can effectively fight it. Since he does seem to be peaceful at heart, his info gathering will be wide enough that it could also provide possible methods of peaceful surrender and/or truce.
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Ihniwid Chapter 5 is up- find it here!
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Lost Omega
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| Posted: Sat Feb 18, 2012 12:48 pm Post subject: |
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Finally. I've caught up. I'm really loving this which is saying something because I was never into mechs. If Morris has any kinds of smarts, he'll see that he needs to get the hell out of dodge. This is not a battle he can win. He needs to retreat and regroup.
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Check out my SG, Freedom's Call! Chapter 4 - Part 2 is up NOW! In Skiffiville!
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Sun Mar 25, 2012 5:17 pm Post subject: |
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Well done Rai! A tremendously easy read, and set in an interesting world to boot.
For the DP, I'd suggest, as Shillelagh says, calling a retreat and asking for a truce. I also think that he should suggest to Sarah a meeting on the ground. From his perspective, he can learn more of this mysterious "magic" and how it has transformed the famed Worldbreakers. From a strategic perspective (the view Bennett would take) it's a way to gain more information about the source of their power, and the current forces in opposition. (After all, for all the Perfecta know, these five aren't the only mecha refurbished.)
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Wed Apr 25, 2012 11:55 pm Post subject: |
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New chapter tomorrow.
Bet you thought I forgot you all...
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| Posted: Wed May 02, 2012 10:08 pm Post subject: |
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I should know better than to make promises. Murphy always comes looking for me when I do.
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Chapter Six: Divine Diplomacy
Losing yourself is a horrible thing. And nothing can break your identity quite like realizing that everything you've ever known has been built on a foundation of lies. Once those are exposed and they erode away you're left with nothing but the memory of who you once were. The pieces. But that is when the true tempering beings for from those shattered fragments great things are often created.
Losing yourself is the key to finding yourself.
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The events of earlier replayed themselves in Morris' head as he rested against the wall of the tank, allowing the warm fluid to sooth away the aches of his tense muscles. He'd won himself the eternal hatred of Commander Bennit, that much he was sure of. The man simply didn't know when he was beat and, had Morris not exercised his authority as the official representative of the Perfecta on board, no doubt Bennit would have thrown all their lives away.
His decision to recall the units had saved hundreds if not thousands of lives. And not just those of the men deployed. It had also saved the lives of the planet-bound that could possibly have been killed when wreckage fell from the sky or a lucky strike got through the defense of the...demigods? He still couldn't quite believe that one. But it didn't matter what his rational self was or wasn't capable of believing, his heart knew the truth.
If he closed his eyes he could see it again, the moments that hadn't really happened. The white space, not blinding, more like an opaque bubble through which soft light had shimmered. He had floated there, weightless, and she had floated across from him. Sarah Mackenzie...or the woman that had once been Sarah Mackenzie. She was as pale and white as the settings around them, only a faint tracing of lavender and amethyst in some places. As if her blood were some strange hue.
She'd regarded him for a moment, her robes flowing in a breeze he did not feel, a pale staff in her hands. She'd looked like an angel, something from a fantasy holo or a children's tale. And he'd felt the waves of power coming off of her, the weight of that stare. "You are not an evil man. You do not want to be here...duty? Is that what brings you? I know all about being dutiful. About following orders even though they bring the bile rising in your throat and make your hands shake. About doing something even though you know it's wrong."
He'd been unsure of what to say for the longest time. In the end he hadn't needed to. She'd simply known. Known his unspoken desire for peace and compromise, his burning desire to have a world to call home instead of the grey steel hull of a ship, eternally moving. She'd just known his requests and arguments before he could ever have made them. And she'd smiled.
"Are you willing to work for what you desire? To fight and die for the worth of your dreams? You cannot be the only one who believes this policy is false. Who would rather seek a peaceful solution rather than the scourge and death of another war. And there will be another war, I can promise you that. Yulne will not fall without a battle. Even if it costs me everything, the price of my life will be paid dearly and in blood. If you would avert that then find others of a like mind. Draw them close and fill your counsel with them. Make them your warriors, your pilots. This is a power you have and a choice you must make. And when you are certain of them, of their conviction and their strength, return here. The path will be open to you."
And suddenly he'd been back in his body, the countdown on the holoscreen reading not a digit higher than it had when he'd gone into that white place. Her voice still echoing in his head he'd watched her image wink from the screens. In the space of a heartbeat she'd delivered the terms of their negotiation engraved upon his soul. Find others. Others sick and tired of conquest. Of war. Who simply wanted a good place to call home and a fair chance to live.
Find them and bring them here.
He climbed out the suspension tank at once and wondered how he was to go about accomplishing such a fabled task. He wandered nude to a nearby observation blister, staring out at the star-flecked void of space. Yulne was no longer in sight...but he knew exactly where it was all the same. There had been no time limit set, and yet he had a sense of urgency embedded in himself. As soon as they rejoined the main ships he needed to being his search.
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"Sarah...are you sure that was the wisest idea? I mean-"
"No, I'm not. Kyoian was adamant however and I have to admit that even I could feel his sincerity. He really just wants some place to call home Derrick and he was willing to go through some lengths to find it. So...he got the chance."
Derrick rolled his eyes, glancing back down at the diagnostic pad held between his smoldering fingers. He saved the readings and unplugged the pad from the mecha unit beside him, glancing back up at Sarah and shaking his spiked head again. "I still don't like it and Ertinnig is suspicious too."
She flicked a patch of white hair over her shoulder, shifting her wings slightly. "Good. It's his job to be suspicious. But Kyoian is certain and I'm not about to disagree with her. She just knows." Sarah shrugged. "Either way what's done is done, they're gone for now. We've got other things to turn our attention towards."
"You're talking about the Darkeners and assisting the army? It's not going to be that easy. Who knows what kind of hardware they gave to those fanatics. Ertinnig and I tried to look but there's a shroud over everything. He's worried that-"
"I know. Kyoian is worried about it too. But if the Dark one has chosen an avatar there's shit we can do about it but kick his ass up between his ears when he chooses to show himself. If he chooses to show himself. Until then, we need to take back what territory we can. We need to show these people that WE are there for them. Today we went a long way to ending the civil war, we need to completely stop it. And once the people are in harmony again we can tackle the land lost to the Darkeners."
Derrick shook his head, moving toward the next mecha and hooking up the diagnostic pad again. "I disagree. We need to get to work retaking those lands. Get the armies back home and give those soldiers a chance to rest. They're going to be dead on their feet soon."
Sarah sighed. If they started retaking land before the religious unrest was settled and the civil war was truly over...it could easily fracture further and splinter groups could end up using the retaken territory as more 'proof' that the gods were false. That they were just Darkener agents.
But if they ignored the territory in favor of quelling the civil war then they risked losing a good percentage of territories permanently. And if that happened famine would follow with the reduction of farmland.
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Which shall they do? Stay home and mend fences with the populace or go on the offensive against the fanatic Darkeners? And is there any truth to the rumor of a 'Dark' avatar? Only you know.
-----------------------------
Sorry it took so long, hope you liked!
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Shillelagh
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| Posted: Sun May 06, 2012 12:15 pm Post subject: |
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This... is kind of a hard DP. Everything is so gloomy in this setting, that one wrong move feels like it could ruin everything. And it's hard to tell which choice is "wrong" here. Either they stay, and the darkness gets to do whatever it wants... or they leave, and the homeland is destroyed from within. Hmm Hmm Hmm.
Maybe they could split up? Sarah could stay, since she's the leader/ primary goddess, and be the uplifting influence that the people need. Meanwhile, the other four could go out on the offensive, and make sure nothing too awful happens. If they don't split up, though... they should go on the offensive. They're fighter pilots and warriors. Getting back into the familiarity of battle might put them at ease- something that they could use, what with the transformation into deities. I'd imagine that's a pretty weird change to get used to.
Also, I would think that the Dark Avatar has less to do with the threat on the planet, and more to do with the Bennit and the attack fleet. Maybe Bennit has a mecha of his own, which he's planning to imbue with dark powers after the display of five which just decimated his fleet? It'd give Morris something to do, if nothing else.
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Ihniwid Chapter 5 is up- find it here!
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DeadManWalking
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| Posted: Sun May 06, 2012 12:45 pm Post subject: |
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Interesting DP. As Shill said, it does feel like any one mistake can screw everything up forever, and right now both of these options feel like mistakes (or rather concentrating on one to the exclusion of the other). I think the Shill's suggestions is probably the best option. Have one of the five, whichever is most suited to diplomacy (probably Sarah?) negotiate an end to the civil war, while the other four tackle the darkeners.
The other option is to try and use the Darkeners themselves to end the civil war, since common enemies do wonders to unite the populace, but such unity is often only temporary and I get the feeling that they'll need a more permanent alliance.
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When the dead walk, the living run.
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Mon May 21, 2012 10:00 pm Post subject: |
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And there be a poll. Vote when the inspiration strikes you.
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"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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Kalanna Rai
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| Posted: Thu Jun 14, 2012 10:36 pm Post subject: |
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Its been a long time coming, but here you are! Enjoy!
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Chapter Seven: When Gods Wage War
It's lonely being a demi-god. It's something we don't mention...but it's true. There are no secrets to us. We see you as you are, as you were, as you will be. The surprise is gone from our lives. Unless something is being hidden from us by another...or in my case beyond my scope of power. And those kind of surprises are never the warm and welcome kind. They're the kind that put a knife in your ribs when you're least expecting it.
It's lonely being a demi-god...
She kept her eyes trained skyward as the unit burst free of the atmosphere, the gravity of the world below releasing her gently from it's hold. For a moment she saw only the vastness of space, then she repositioned to watch the sun rise over the edge of the planet. It had become routine for her to do this, to break into orbit to think for a while and to make sure that no Fleet units had returned. And of course to salvage from the massive debris field that now left a sparkling ring around the world of Yulne.
The more she could salvage, the less tumbled down in the form of fiery meteors. Because while the people were in awe of chunks of star metal raining from the sky the rain of fire that had followed that destructive day had claimed lives. Sarah wanted to prevent that as much as she could. And running round the clock force-fields could only protect so many places...never enough.
There was another upside to her lonely salvage. Bringing back these units and parts, already the Artificers were hard at work examining them. Tearing them apart. Building mock constructs from the pieces. Now that they knew elemental stones could power the units successfully...they were interested in building their own. And it was swiftly becoming apparent the more they examined the wreckage that the 'gods' of the Darkeners were not so godly after all. They were weak in comparison to the 'true' gods.
Sarah's work was largely being done for her, just by bringing back these ruined hulks. By explaining the 'science' behind them. Where they had come from. More and more people who'd been screaming slander at them, calling them false prophets and heretics, were now willing to believe a little more. Or at least listen. Realization was dawning. That the Gods had chosen from among these 'star travelers' only the best to become their channels. That perhaps they'd forged these great Titans into better weapons than the 'star travelers' themselves could ever make.
And Sarah encouraged them to believe this. She let them convince themselves. Let them believe that the star travelers were not working with the Darkeners...but that they'd been deceived by them into doing the work that the Darkeners and their false gods could not. And the daily reports of victory in the field didn't hurt either. If there was one thing the general population hated more than Sarah and her command...it was the Darkeners.
Gathering some promising looking debris together in a bubble of force, Sarah turned her unit for home. Plowing back down through the atmosphere, tongues of fire curling around her as she made her reentry. A small boom echoed when she slowed back down from her hypersonic speed, dispersing the clouds as she reentered through them.
The wind of her landing ruffled the pennants and banners of the keep proper and she carefully walked into the hall that had become the hangar bay for her crew. Depositing the new load of scrap, she watched the Artificers greedily swarm over it, like ants over a downed piece of over-ripe fruit. Carefully she moved away from them, returning her unit to it's normal place before disengaging control and exiting.
Hopping from the shoulder and gliding to the floor, she responded with a gentle wave of her hand to the excited Artificers, walking over to listen to them for a few moments. Halfway across the floor, the tone of their conversation changed from excitement, to something more frantic and Sarah ran the last few yards to see what was the matter.
Nestled in the ruined chest of one of the retrieved units was a life support pod, it's rescue beacon obviously smashed away. It hadn't jettisoned properly from the bent wreckage of the unit and without that rescue beacon pinging away nobody had known to come and collect it. The window was frosted over with thick ice, obscuring proper vision, but transparent enough to tell that someone was still inside. And with her extra senses Sarah could sense the weak flair of life.
Kneeling, she dug her fingers into the seams of the pod, the alloy giving way with frightening ease. A simple contraction of her muscles, a little sustained force, and with a screaming squeal the metal tore and the door of the pod came loose with a hiss of pressurized air. Frost raced across the ground as the unnatural cold hissed out with it, growing damp in the heat shortly afterward. Small elementals, created by the sudden whirl of air and dust, were curiously investigating and quick to flee when the people surrounding the pod moved back.
Laying in the pilot's chair was a young man, no more than fourteen years old. His hair was frozen, even his eyelashes bearing a layer of frost. But now that the seal was broken, a few lights in the chair itself winked on, blinking red and white. A revival sequence.
"Is he...alive?"
She glanced up at the young Artificer, noting the wide eyed look of them all. "Barely. Bring thick blankets, hot stones, and if someone can find it hot broth. Nothing solid...think something the oldest grandfather could drink. And hurry!"
They scattered, racing off to do her bidding while Sarah leaned in to study the pilot a little more closely. Reaching out a hand, she wiped some of the frost from the uniform front and recoiled quickly as the name and designation number was revealed.
"It can't be..."
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Who is this mystery pilot that has just been rescued from an icy tomb? And how will they change the dynamics of both the Titan unit...and the population at large? Only you know.
-----------------------------------
A little something unexpected for all you patient patient people. Hope you liked!
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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