Your Own Sci-Fi Writings

Here's a little jumpstart to this forum.

Post pieces of serialized versions of Science Fiction writing you've done. Remember to include copyright. Only post what you feel confident in putting online. Aliases ok.


Here's a snippet from an older story of mine. Kinda technical but works on its own. I'll immediately post a full story afterward. All rights reserved by Major Kerina.



Over the last century, three different types of space propulsion emerged, ZPE (Zero Point Energy), GUT (Grand Unified Theory) and most recently, XET (Xing Event Theory).

Zero Point Energy works on the universal idea that energy is never lost, except by low-level entropy (which is reversed, at a small level, by ZPE interaction). Virtual particles pop into being and they are ' caught ' by the system, which contains a powerful, shifting, electromagnet that turns the collection of particles into a stream that provides energy. Although this system requires anti-particles to be able to harness this power efficiently. Thus the GUT drive was invented.

GUT is the theory that all the forces in the universe are actually a single force, but at the cold temperature of our universe, about 400 millionths of a degree above absolute zero, they settle down and behave. When you instill massive amounts of energy into the natural forces of the universe, such as at the first few seconds of the Big Bang, they reunify. The neutrons of atoms decay down to leptons and the merging of three leptons creates a top quark.

The four forces in the universe are, weak atomic interaction, strong atomic interaction, electromagnetic interaction and gravitation interaction. The last of which is caused by gravitons, source of the dust shield for XET ships. In the early part of the 21th century, a Chinese researcher named Xing Wu proposed his theory of high-level gravitational events, also known as black holes or singularities.

His theory stated that due to the fact that ( theoretical at the time ) gravitons have a mathematical nature to pop into being, much like virtual particles do (sometimes popping in at the same time as virtual atoms), they must be a reflection of the nature of high-level gravitational events. With the right circumstances and conditions, an event will suddenly come into being, either through natural quantum fluctuation or GUT manipulation.

Peter Trenton furthered this theory and was able to use it to manufacture artificial events. The XET drive is more of a combination of three drives working together. The ZPE sub-drive collects the atoms that will be the fuel that is annihilated. The XET drive provides the source of the anti-particles ( black holes create anti-matter as a process of internal micro-quantum decay ) that annihilate the normal matter and themselves, releasing energy in a form virtually 100 percent efficient. The GUT drive stabilizes and rotates the event so that the flow of anti-matter can be controlled and aimed.

The dilemma of interstellar travel is solved by the fact that an event has a degree of rotation and spin, much like a sub-atomic particle. With a higher degree of spin, wormholes begin form orbiting the event. These wormholes can be made to form at will and take the ship to virtually any place in the universe ( theoretically, but you need a larger event than is possible by 23rd century technology to link the wormhole to an extremely distant point ).

Wormholes though bring up a whole new problem. When starships start using their XET drives to create wormholes, there is slight chance that the tenth-dimensional plane of the wormhole may intersect with another wormhole. The results of this are unknown and quite possibly catastrophic.

The Solar Union's solution to this was to limit the traffic inside the Solar System to sub-light travel. And only a few may exit the Solar System at a given time.



Criticism welcome. I wrote this a long time ago. Sorry it sounds so dry I only really found my creative voice recently.

Here's a full story too.

The Eye by Major Kerina (all rights reserved 1999-2003)

The eye flickered.

It didn't blink, shift, or strain. It simply flickered.

Every fiber of my being told me that I should have fled. But I was able to restrain the urge.

The eye turned, examining me carefully. I remained still so it could see I had nothing to hide. The eye hovered closer to me, dilating.

With a sigh, I too moved closer. The eye pondered this action for a moment, but had no other reaction.

I raised my hand to touch its cornea. The eye gave me a disinterested look and hovered just out of my reach. This was expected, the Honorables had informed me the eye might be uncooperative. I knew what I had to do.

Reaching into my back pocket, I came out with a magic venous injection device, taken from the Great Museum. I filled the small chamber with an enchanted clear fluid and looked back at the eye. It flickered again, this time glowing slightly.

With much remorse, I moved toward it. The eye continued to be uncooperative, hovering erratically, keeping out of reach.

For several moments, I waited patiently as the eye held itself just out of range. I pondered whether I should attempt to speak to it, then I remembered that the flickering was its only form of communication.
I stared directly into its cornea; it was like any eye, but without a socket to contain it. The eye possessed a thin skin with lashes for protection, but that was all there was to it, nothing more.

I found myself feeling sorry for the eye and its lineage. The more I stared it down, the deeper it seemed to be burrowing into my soul. Finally, I could stand no more of this and leapt at the creature with my device.

The first time, I failed to make contact. My second attempt was more fruitful. I plunged into the skin and deep into the cornea of the eye.
The skin retreated in shock, iris widening. The eye looked at me again, moist and settled slowly on the ground. I tapped the eye lightly; there was no response.

I discarded the magic injector device and lifted the eye with both hands. The skin had sealed around the iris, making appear as though it were asleep. A smile came to my face but it was short-lived.
I wondered about the eye. From my studies with the Honorables, the eyes were once a highly evolved species of animal. Their civilization was unprecedented. But that couldn't save them from their greatest failing. Sensory addiction.

They were drunk on neural experiences and soon began to develop themselves to their foremost extent. The audio-philes attached themselves to walls and listened to the sounds of the world. Tactile addicts converted their forms into sensory nerve networks. And so on.

Their beautiful culture fragmented as each and every one of them discarded wider concerns.

I shook my head and touched the eye lightly. How much the world had changed since then. I turned around, the eye cradled in my hand, pondering these ancients, these so called 'humans' that once ruled the Earth.




Wow...I'd forgotten how stilted this old story was...I'll have to rewrite it some day.

One of the more popular of my posts from my Star Trek RPG.
It was sent to the mailing list March 15th, 2001, at 6:02pm GMT

The Borg, Steamrunner and Excelsior-class starships are trademarks of Paramount Pictures, a Viacom company. The Firestorm RPG claims no ownership of any Star Trek-related trademarks or copyrights.



Moments Earlier.

The Drone became aware, and stepped down from its regeneration chamber. "Communications with Outpost 0015 have been terminated," the voice of the collective rippled through Eleven's mind. "Federation involvement expected. Cube 1152, alter course to investigate."

Without a sound, the Drone turned, and accessed a nearby readout. The collective saw what it saw, and the collective guided its movements on the control panel, altering the cube's course within the transwarp conduit. Species 8702 could be assimilated at another time, whereas those that interfered with Experiment 0001 were still needed for additional research.

"Two vessels approaching conduit terminus," the voice of the Borg continued. "Vessels identified as Starfleet starships, Steamrunner and Excelsior class. Their distinctiveness shall be added to our own."

Nearby the Drone, other Drones awakened from regeneration, turning to move towards the assimilation chambers. Not a sound was uttered from the Drones, as they were part of the collective. Part of perfection.

"Hailing the Federation vessels," the Borg mind continued. "We are the Borg, lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

"Weapon fire detected. Type, Class 4 Quantum Torpedo. Weapon fire will not damage Cube 1152, but will damage Transwarp Terminus 116."

"Message received from USS Sumter, Excelsior Class. 'Assimilate this.'"

The Borg cube convulsed as the quantum torpedoes detonated, and the Drone blinked back surprise as he felt the Borg Collective release him. Confused, he watched the ripples through the transwarp conduit as it began to collapse, then discovered the reason the Collective released the cube. "Thank you," the Drone gasped in his own language, his vocal cords unused for ages. Moments later, the Drone and the Cube were no more.

.

"Cube 1152 has been destroyed," the Borg Mind noted. "Transwarp Terminus 116 has been destroyed. Outpost 0015 has been lost. Experiment 0001 has been lost."

The Borg Queen nodded thoughtfully to herself. Even with the genetically engineered pheromone, the Federation had been able to resist assimilation, and even destroyed one of their cubes. She held the images of the two ships ' captains in her mind a moment longer, allowing their faces to mingle with the collective's thoughts. "Next time will be different," she promised her Drones. "Next time these two, along with Picard and Janeway, will be added to our Collective."

Hehe, nice version of that kind of twist Kerina :) I once read something similar about alien invaders that turned out to be humans...and a very good version of the idea was done by Arthur C Clarke once with people landing on what turned out at the end of the story to be prehistoric Earth...can't remember the title though :(

Anyway, here's something I wrote a while ago...still pretty proud of it, but although I expect I could now improve it considerably, I really can't be bothered.

The Day Of Defeat
By The Swarm (2002)

((never got a title I liked really, I just stuck with this one for its ambiguity))

Massive crowds gathered together to stare into the sky at what looked like an apocalyptic conflict. Flaming shapes wheeled across the sky like serpents. On close observation they flickered in the same way as an optical illusion that is in fact two different images in one, except these had a seemingly infinite number of facets. These were creatures out of time, flickering like an early image on the screen of a cinema, at once a tiny spark, a fiery dragon-like beast in its prime, and greying and glowing dimly like a dying fire. These creatures, these things had surely no right to exist in our universe where we may move freely in three dimensions but only forward in the fourth. The things were free of the constraints of the fourth dimension, granted together the power of youth and the wisdom of age, at the same time dying and being born, always existing in the now.
The sky was raging with every one of the beasts that had ever existed, each meeting with its clone. Identical pairs began to meet and dance around together, their bodies gyrating in closer and closer proximity. Observers witnessed that as they flickered through their lives each pair seemed to be doing so together, although different people later discovered they had seen different images to each other at the same time.
Suddenly every pair of the creatures dived towards one another and ceased to exist. No remnant of any of them was left, no evidence of their existence at all bar the memories searing across the mind of the countless numbers of witnesses. Humanity had apparently defeated its foe of many years at last.

The work was complete.
Scientists had been working on this last, desperate solution for decades. Study of the monsters was nigh on impossible due to their very natures. How to capture something so destructive, that seemed to take so much joy in the consumption of anything that lived? How to capture something that, if placed inside a huge specially constructed building, would simply escape by returning to a time before the building was built?
It was observed that the creatures only ever returned to a time that was after their first appearance on Earth, so they tried to capture them in older buildings. The first attempt at this in an adapted aircraft hangar appeared to be successful to begin with. The beast raged inside ferociously for several hours before disappearing. It was never seen again. The only assumption that could possibly be made was that it had found a time several months before the hangar was adapted when the door was open.
Study of the creatures therefore appeared impossible. Wild theories were concocted on the origins of the things. Some claimed they were the creations of mankind’s hidden psychic abilities, others that they were holy angels sent by God to punish humanity for its sins. A slightly more scientifically minded group began to examine the behaviour of immensely small subatomic particles of atoms. Research in a previous century had shown that certain particles on an extremely tiny scale actually travelled backwards in time. The claim was that other such particles might act similarly, so research began. More and more massive particle accelerators were built to smash matter into ever smaller component parts, and in the brief seconds of their existence they were carefully observed. These dwarfed their early predecessors that had split the atom and opened up new views into the makeup of the universe. There were indeed minuscule particles that travelled backwards in time, and as research continued others were found that travelled freely and randomly through time.
As often during times of conflict the rate of scientific research increased dramatically. Strange and new sciences emerged that to people living just five years before might have looked like magic. The construction of four-dimensional objects began, at first on a subatomic scale with tiny and immensely accurate robotic equipment. New and strange structures were created. Meanwhile, biologists worked on the incorporation of artificial constructs into the genetic code. The aim was to fight fire with fire: to create a thing that could defeat the monsters on their own terms.
In the end this thing turned out to be creatures apparently identical to those they were to defeat. Anticipation mounted as the time when the release would take place neared. Scientists rejoiced in the certainty that they had found a solution.
Massive crowds gathered together to stare into the sky at what looked like an apocalyptic conflict. The scientists who had made it possible proudly imagined that they had solved the problem of the greatest enemy humanity had ever encountered. They would never know how wrong they were.

(continued here, since there's a 1000 word limit on posts)

After the first appearance more and more of the creatures began to arrive, although where from nobody ever discovered. Conventional weaponry seemed useless against them. Their flickering through time made any wounds almost insubstantial. They would simply return (or move forward to) a time in which they were not injured. As the monsters developed a taste for animals and humans alike entire villages perished overnight. Depletion of agricultural stock resulted in massive starvation throughout the world. They were monsters indeed, their appearance and actions inspiring terror amongst all that witnessed them. The greatest humanitarian disasters ever seen occurred across the globe through not only the actions of the creatures themselves, but as a result of human reactions to them. It was only a matter of time before a nuclear device was launched, leading not only to the apparent death of three of the creatures, but also a small but bloody war which soon escalated to a massive one on a world scale over diminishing resources and conflicting beliefs in different methods of dealing with the invaders. A truce was called only after the death of millions.
It would be science rather than brute warfare that appeared to eventually solve the problem. A last, desperate solution was suggested and scientists began to work on it, knowing that the project might take decades to complete.

It was night in a small town in eastern Europe when the first of the dragon creatures appeared. It materialised a kilometre above the land and dived towards the buildings. One solitary drunk witnessed its comet like descent with little interest, being far more concerned with in the complicated exercise of staying upright.
The creature’s dive ended as it crashed into the buildings. It was massive, and serpent like, the length of its body comparable to the height of a skyscraper. It had no wings but flew through the sky as if swimming through water. As its dive ended it levelled out and turned, smashing aside entire buildings and setting others alight. As the citizens of the town emerged to witness the terrifying event the creature seemed to recognise them as a source of food and began to grab people off the street and consume them whole. A tide of people surged away from the monster as fast as they possibly could. Unfortunately this was not fast enough and it began to pick off the stragglers, destroying further sections of the town as it followed the stampede. Finally it appeared to be satisfied, and without warning shot back up into the sky.
After this first appearance more of the creatures began to arrive, although from where nobody ever discovered.

Suddenly every pair of the creatures dived towards one another and ceased to exist. No remnant of any of them was left, no evidence of their existence at all bar the memories searing across the mind of the countless numbers of witnesses. Humanity had apparently defeated its foe of many years at last.

However all was not as it seemed…

They swam, to use a three-dimensional metaphor, outside of time. Each dragon creature was a symbiote of its two parents with the memories and the experiences of both. The older parts of each one recalled a time of arrival, of a fresh appearance on Earth. One led the way, and together the host began to swim their way back to the past.
It was night in a small town in eastern Europe when the leader emerged again into this universe, as it had before and yet for the first time. As it dived down to the surface below the Miðgarð Serpent experienced an unparalleled joy in the continuation of this eternal cycle.








(The End
and
The Beginning)

(this is also know as "The Really Wierd 4d Story" but that kinda gives a bit of it away, and that would be a silly title. Hope any readers enjoyed!)

Serialised scifi? The only thing Iv'e done that's serialsed was Bob the Buddhist, and I lost the hallooween epidsode to it.

Take a gander at the work of us who've written some then perhaps ;)

Whilst at an OMF fan site I found this unfinished script for a possible OMF film.. I have no idea who wrote it but i'm tempted to continue it.

SCENE 1:

A HUD (Heads-up-display) appears on the screen virtual; not a physical HUD.

MECHANICAL VOICE
Diagnostics subroutine completed. All physical systems nominal.

Camera pulls outward, exiting HUD, 180° turn to reveal a room, appearing somewhat like a surgery room. "Year 2085" appears at the bottom of screen.

Two men wearing street clothes are lying on tables, wires strapped to their heads and hands. Behind them, a nurse/doctor is monitoring a display, back turned to the audience. In another area, a Mr. Sivva mechanic: tall, thin build, gray hair, grease on clothes/face wearing a lab coat stands watching a different display.

Mr. Sivva speaks to one of the men on the tables though vocal link

SIVVA
(to one of the men on tables)
Terminating local connection.

Mr. Sivva disconnects the vocal link between him and the security guard (one of the men on the table). Gene runs up to Mr. Sivva and tugs at the bottom of his coat

SIVVA
W...What?

As Mr. Sivva spins around, the stern look on his face turns to a smile as he recognizes Gene (6yrs. old) as his son. He picks Gene up, and tosses them in the air. After he puts Gene down he gives Gene a present.

SIVVA
Hey, Gene... look what I got you!

Gene opens the gift to reveal a toy robot (OMF HAR). Gene screams in delight and starts to play with it. As Mr. Sivva starts to bend down to play with Gene when Kreissack walks in. Mr. Sivva gets up and approaches Kreissack.

KREISSACK
Ah, Mr. Sivva... what is the current status on the Nova project?

SIVVA
Actually, we're a little behind on development of systems at the moment...

KREISSACK
All the easier, then. Halt further research immediately on it.

SIVVA
We can't do that... we've spent the past six years on it!

KREISSACK
You don't realize... do you? We wish to change the focus of the
Nova's current purposes, and this would be best accomplished
by terminating all new work on the current Nova development completely.

SIVVA
How? We have already obtained a shipment order of 2500
Nova units to the Ashton engineering group, and how will
we explain to them that these will no longer be demolition HARs?

KREISSACK
Let's just say that we're entering a much more lucrative market.

GENE tugs on MR. SIVVA's coat, obviously impatient. KREISSACK pats the child on the head, oblivious to the fact that he might be listening.

SIVVA
But the only contractors with deeper pockets than the engineers
are the military...

KREISSACK
There will be some modifications that are in order, though... I'd
like you to test the viability of the implantation of human
central nervous tissue within the Nova's neural net.

SIVVA
Wait just one flaming second... are you wanting me to
physically link some unfortunate SoB's brain into that thing?

KREISSACK
Well, for the lack of a better term... yes, that is exactly the
intent. Now please report to the biomechanical design lab to
conduct some initial tests once you've collected the
preliminary schematics from the doctors.

SIVVA
Absolutely not. Do you have any qualms about ending
somebody's life for the fulfillment of your own ambition?

KREISSACK
You do possess quite powerful logic, Mr. Sivva.

SIVVA
Thank you, sir.

KREISSACK grabs SIVVA's throat tightly with one hand, and squeezes.

KREISSACK
How about I start with you?

The security monitor fades from the static pattern to the face of a NURSE in another lab

NURSE
I need to inform you that there has been a security breach
within the loading bay.

KREISSACK
I am currently occupied. Do I not have a peon that can
handle such a petty interference?

NURSE
Two of the security guards are attacking each other with two
of the Jaguar HARs in the hold, sir.

KREISSACK
(turns to SIVVA)
You seem to have come into the good graces of Lady Luck.

KREISSACK drops SIVVA forcefully to the floor, where he slowly gets up.

As the NURSE said, two guards are piloting Jaguars around the hold, with many of the workers standing in a semicircle around the fight, cheering them on. SIVVA picks up his intercom and dials in the frequency of the pilots.

GUARD 1
C'mere, ya little pansy. You couldn't swat flies flailing around like that!

GUARD 2
We'll see who'll be doing the smack talk when your ass is on the ground!

SIVVA then runs over to the two of them, ordering them to stop. They ignore him completely, being absorbed in the fight.

KREISSACK
(aside)
They have progressed much faster than I could've ever dreamed.
How wonderful...

KREISSACK chuckles, and pulls GENE in closer to him.

SCENE 2:

INT. SIVVA HOUSE; BEDROOM - NIGHTTIME

Mrs. Sivva (30-ish yrs. old) follows Mr. Sivva around as he randomly picks things up and throws them into a group of suitcases lying on the floor.

MRS. SIVVA
I can't even begin to understand why you're in such a rush
to move out of here. You've just gotten a nice job at W.A.R.,
the school system here is good, yet you're wanting to throw
this all out the window. What's going on that I don't know about, honey?

SIVVA doesn't answer immediately, simply continues packing his suitcases.

SIVVA
I'll leave it at this: I think it's a good idea if we decide to go someplace else.

MRS. SIVVA
That still doesn't explain anything to me. It's almost as if you
have something you're trying to hide from me.

MRS. SIVVA grabs SIVVA by the shoulder, spinning him around. She then grabs his other shoulder, and looks him in the eyes.

MRS. SIVVA
(pleading)
I can't help unless you can tell me why you're in such a rush.
You're scaring me.

SIVVA is visibly agitated now. The expression on his face turns to one of concern. GENE then runs into the room carrying the toy robot that SIVVA gave him as a gift earlier. SIVVA now turns away from his wife and picks up GENE, and talks to him.

SIVVA
Are you excited about this, Gene? Isn't this gonna be quite the
adventure? We're gonna travel all the way to...

MRS. SIVVA becomes even sterner.

MRS. SIVVA
Kyte, please stop. You're not going to ease my nerves by deluding our son.

SIVVA then slowly sets GENE down and walks over to the suitcases, closing them. He then quickly grabs the bags and pushes MRS. SIVVA and GENE aside as he walks to the door of the apartment, where a taxicab is waiting.

SCENE 3:

INT. CAB CAR - NIGHTTIME

CAB DRIVER
So, where are you all headed? Seem like wherever it is, you’re in quite the rush.

SIVVA
We’re headed to Altarus station on Io. Eventually. You only need worry
about getting us to the spaceport downtown, though.
(Pauses)
We’re going to visit some relatives…

MRS. SIVVA
(softly)
But we don’t have any relatives on Io…

CAB DRIVER
(bows head)
Oh, my deepest condolences on your loss then.

As the cab driver is stating his concerns for them, a dark colored vehicle pulls up beside the cab, sits there for a couple seconds then swerves in front of the cab, cutting it off. The cab driver jerks around, hitting the breaks and the car spins slightly. The cab driver straightens out the car and speeds up, weaving through some traffic to get away from the car. Once things start to seem calm the cab gets rammed from the back, and it is the same car.

CAB DRIVER
Ahem… friends of yours?

SIVVA
I have no idea what you’re getting at, sir.

CAB DRIVER
What I’m getting at is that it seems as though you’re escaping from somebody.
As if you know something you shouldn’t. Reminds me of those old spy movies…

SIVVA
I assure you, this is nothing of the sort.

CAB DRIVER
I sense you’re lying to me. I don’t like liars. I wanna know why
the hell I have to take you anywhere in such a hurry.

SIVVA
(Draws weapon, points it at CAB DRIVER)
This is the complete honest truth: it’s in your best interests to take
us to the spaceport so that we can go to Altarus. NOW.

A chase ensues. The dark colored car eventually, in trying to cut off the cab, sees a corner a little too late, careening through a guardrail along the curve.

SIVVA
Whatever that was behind us, I thank you for your driving expertise.
(Withdraws weapon)
You shall be handsomely compensated for this.

CAB DRIVER
(under breath, tense)
I should HOPE so…

SCENE 4:

EXT. AIRPORT - NIGHTTIME

The cab pulls up beside a huge building.

CAB DRIVER
Out! Now!

SIVVA
Okay, okay… no need to get hostile.

CAB DRIVER
Hmm… I could’ve died there. I think that gives me right to be hostile.
Now pay up so I can get outta here.

SIVVA pays the CAB DRIVER with a small stack of bills (presumably a fairly large sum). CAB DRIVER smirks, and peels out. The SIVVAs walk toward the entrance of the spaceport. Soon afterwards, somebody grabs SIVVA’s shoulder and pulls vigorously.

SIVVA
What the…?

SIVVA turns to see two monstrously built armed guards, and KREISSACK between them. KREISSACK grins like a Cheshire cat.

KREISSACK
Did you forget somebody when you were planning your little trip?

SIVVA
What in the blazes do you want now from me?

KREISSACK
To be blunt, Kyte, I want your body back at Kreissack Laboratories.
Either live, as an engineer in Research and Development, or dead,
stuffed on my wall.

SIVVA
(loudly)
Never!

SIVVA’s shout attracts the attention of a SPACEPORT SECURITY GUARD.

GUARD
All right… what’s going on here?

KREISSACK
Nothing at all… I was just wishing my mechanic “luck”.
(pushes SIVVA’s shoulder somewhat forcefully)

GUARD escorts the SIVVAs to the check station, finally turning his back from KREISSACK’s group.

KREISSACK
Say anything, and…
(Makes “throat slashing” motion)

SIVVA pulls GENE in close to him. GENE squeals in fear

SIVVA
(to teller at check station, somewhat nervous)
Could you please hurry up? …Hello?

SIVVA checks behind his shoulder, expecting to see KREISSACK behind him. Nobody is, however.

Pause for a few seconds as the TELLER as he is typing into the terminal

TELLER
Well, everything checks out, Mr. Sivva. You may now proceed to the
boarding gate, which is Gate 3 in the east wing of the terminal.

SIVVAs walk over to the boarding gate

PUBLIC ADDRESS SYSTEM
All those departing from Moriad Spaceport to Altarus Space Station
are being advised to board as soon as possible, as preparations
for launch will begin in approximately five minutes.

Pan over the space plane, moving into an interior shot of the plane. The SIVVAs are now seated.

FLIGHT ATTENDANT
Your captain has instructed me to inform you of the safety
procedures regarding the flight. Please fasten the seatbelt on either
side of you before takeoff, and do not undo the belt until instructed
to do so. Restrooms are positioned on either side of the aisle on both
ends of each class of the plane. In case of interplanetary turbulence, please
refasten safety belts and sit as far back in the seat as is comfortably possible.
In the event of a deep space anomaly or collision, do not panic, as
screaming will simply exhaust the supply of oxygen on the plane.

SIVVA
Oh, great…

FLIGHT ATTENDANT
Above all, though, have a nice flight, and thank you for flying Apollo Spaceways.

Plane takes off. GENE switches on the flat-panel television on the back of the seat in front of him. He fiddles with the controls until he finds some cartoons on, and then slowly drifts off to sleep. Screen fades to black.

SCENE 5:

Screen black for 2-3 seconds

INT. GENE’s APARTMENT - DAYTIME

The screen bursts with a close-up of a newscast. “2097 (12 years later)” appears on bottom of screen. The broadcast is about the recent fight between Steel Claw and Killian.

ANNOUNCER
Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past dozen years or
so, you know that a match between Steel Claw and Killian, the two
bad-asses of the arena, is going to be a top-notch fight of the highest
caliber. These two have been practically at each other’s throats in every
single tournament since the 2086 Katushai Challenge. In fact, one could
almost say their savage styles of HAR combat border on evil…

The view zooms out from the TV to reveal a messy room, items lying all over the floor, clothes thrown about aimlessly. The blanket on the bed starts to move around and GENE’s (now 18 yrs. old) head is revealed as they pull it down. GENE lays there for a bit, turns off the TV, the grabs the clock. The clock, in bold red LED lettering, reads 1:23 PM.

GENE
(whiny voice)
Damn…

The camera then changes to a fuzzy outline of a figure in the shower, quietly humming to himself. In the background we hear the answering machine go off.

ANSWRING MACHINE
(voice of MANAGER)
Where are you, Gene? You’re an hour late for your shift today. Must I
remind you, you do this again and I’ll have no other choice than to let
you go. Get over here as fast as you can.

GENE
(still in shower)
Heh… just another one of those sorta days.
(turns off shower)

GENE emerges from the foggy bathroom with a towel and a t-shirt (shirt on, towel around waist).

GENE
Now where’d I put my clothes…

He enters another room, then returns to the main room a couple seconds (around 20) wearing a t-shirt, different from the first, and jeans and carrying the towel. GENE throws the towel onto the bed, picks up keys and jacket from a nearby chair and exits through the main door.

Sorry to break in between story. I found my newest work I did for my creative writing class (it was for an assignment, got an A ^-^)

The Mission by Major Kerina 2003, all rights reserved.


“If the fire doesn’t kill you, the cold will.”

She wrapped herself in the tote bag and shrugged.

“Are you the least bit concerned about dying?”

She adjusted her glasses and picked up the file folder propped up against the couch. As a chill wind curled its way around the room, she clutched it closer to her body.

“Before things are settled, I have one more thing to ask of you. Can you reconsider?”

“Don’t make me doubt. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

Fluffing the pillows on the couch, she listened to his answer. “I know you have to practice but do you have to spend all your time in the simulated environments, away from your friends and family? Your father?”

“Just because I’m not with them…and you… doesn’t mean I don’t care. Did I ever complain when you were shipped off to a drilling operation in the middle of the ocean?” He shut his eyes and laid an arm on the couch.

“I thought you were too young to remember that, except from your mother’s stories.”

“I can’t forget the long empty times when you were away. If you like, you can say I’m returning the favor.”

Dull light filtered through the window. Even though a number of lamps were turned on, the darkness seemed to peek at her when she looked away. She felt an urge to banish every creep of lightlessness away forever. Growing from what sounded like a cough, he answered back. “If that is how you must see it then I can deal with the loss of my only daughter.”

Joining her lids together, she replied, “As I said, it doesn’t matter either way because it’s out of my control. Can you help me with this, I think I have it tangled?”

He adjusted the strap of the tote bag so it made a clean ring that followed her shoulder and clung heavily to her hip. He held to her, a ring made of flesh, and pressed his head against hers.

“Keep warm but stay cool, my dear.” With that the tension between them lulled. The white stuccoed walls still seemed to tighten. The daughter gathered up all her belongings and walked out the open archway. Her father did not follow. Instead he ran his hands along the harsh material of the couch, finding the flawed seams.

Gripping tight with both hands, he caught both ends of the seam and tore a blasting hole of cotton fluff.

“Did you spend some time in the environment simulator?” The associate asked. She nodded as she dressed, a pounding ache surging through as she put on the disguise. It was far too late for headaches now, she told herself. “How do I look?”

He stepped around her, critiquing the appliance job, the arms and legs and especially the face. He didn’t seem convinced to her. “Say something.”

She spoke in a tongue she scarcely understood.

“It looks false but then I have a good eye and maybe the aliens will not look too closely.”

She shut her eyes. “So the same? None of the work we did on it helps?”
“It is more natural but perhaps not as natural as it should be from our study but then we have a failsafe.”

She found the prospect of having to use that excuse terrifying. With a cough that threatened to dislodge the whole illusion, she recited in the alien tongue and then translated, “I have been burned.”

The phrase her father used stuck again in her mind and she hoped that after all this was over that her protection wouldn’t wind up with a tinge of truth. She found it best not to dwell on all the ways that this could go wrong.

She could hear the associate’s voice piped through to her headset. “We’re ready for countdown. Are you?” If they meant was she prepared to have her atoms taken apart and hopefully reassembled on an alien planet with no allowance for error unless she wanted to be crushed then she was ready, she thought.

The procedure itself was instantaneous, just like with all the probes they’d sent through to the other side. Her felt a pop as the pressure fell away and spasm of coughing as she adjusted to the different atmosphere. Stumbling to the ground a moment, she coughed a few more times and took raspy breaths of the air tinged with so many undecipherable flavors and looked up. It was the place they had picked, secluded from any of the main thoroughfares. Sniffling from a bout of coughs, she rechecked her equipment in the satchel and took a long breath to acclimate her lungs.

Something burned down deep in her throat. The air here was chaotic and unnatural. Still, it appeared to be live-sustaining although she didn’t want to test it by running. In fact, she doubted how fast she could walk. She leaned against a dark edifice, listening to the idling of machinery. Using it as a handhold and now a little woozy, she worked her way out of darkness and into the light of the glaring main star. The scientists told her it was a third bigger than the sun.

Funny, she would have thought it larger. At least the disguise didn’t trap heat very well. Nevertheless, she felt like a god was glaring right at her and draining the life out of her. One of the aliens ambled by, swinging its dangling appendages. She wasn’t prepared as she watched its fuzzy, bulbous head flit over to her in a glance; its looming, pale eyes searching hers, then back to the path.

She felt relieved that its thin flap of a mouth remained closed. As she leaned back to recollect her thoughts she felt the full brunt of how different the beings looked from her. That grotesque nose and face. She’d seen it in the appliances but to see it like this instantly evoked a shudder in her.

But she had to collect data. Taking a deep breath of the foul air, she stepped into the main area. The aliens swarmed past her, some in strange conveyances, others ambling like the first one was. A cluster of them uttered a strange set of raspy squawking noises which she struggled a moment to understand but none of it was as concise and organized as it was in training. Straining, she heard only one word that she make out but couldn’t put it in context.

She reached into her satchel and pulled out the translator and data device, hiding one in each cuff. She listened again as she made her way between clusters along the thoroughfare. The translator listened too. It relayed to the device in her ear a stilted version of what was said. At the very least she could figure out what was being said. Something about procreation.

She hurried along till she came to the building that the scientists had picked out. Something about uncovering eating habits. Outside she picked up a few cultural samples for later.

The interior was better on her eyes. Much of the illumination seemed to be given off by some form of bio-luminescence along the ceiling in set rows she observed. With the data device, she was able to take a few brief recordings before one of the aliens approached her. She jerked the data device down her sleeve in a haste to conceal it, which trapped it further up than she would have liked. Meanwhile, she tried her best to appear inconspicuous.

The alien held an artifact like a large data device and spoke. Her intonation training told her that it was a question and the translator figured out most of the syntax. The context eluded her. Blinking a moment, she tried to smile with the appliance on and felt from the distension of the surface that she’d been successful.

The creature appeared to be a female of the species. She also appeared somewhat perplexed. The daughter was tempted to try a non-verbal gesture but figured she would rely too heavily on her own preconceptions in the presentation. Instead she tried an affirmative which prompted a brief, indistinguishable gesture by the female alien which she captured for later study. Nevertheless, the creature led her to a secluded place to sit. A bubbling tank curdled with foam, strange invertebrates tangling into one mass.

She retched when considering how these creatures would be consumed according to the research they gathered. The creature left behind a data pad-like artifact which reminded her of the cultural samples she’d just tucked away. Examining it, she could tell it was list of what was doing offered. Cautiously, she tried to understand the language, making sure not to rely on the words the translator was reading back to her.
She’d only deciphered a little bit of it when the creature returned with a smaller data-pad. Looking at the way it grasped the pad and wearing what her training told her was an expectant look, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the restaurants back home.

The structure seemed similar but she reminded herself to work carefully when it came to etiquette. She felt nervous but steady as she gestured to a place on the text and gave an affirmative gesture. The waitress, as she began to think of her as, looked perplexed, looking closer at where she’d pointed, looking her over again with what she matched as the look from earlier.

With a still terror, she realized she must be making a major mistake in syntax. Her mind rushed as she tried to come up with a phrase, a easy fail-safe. “Is there a problem?” She asked, trying to keep the inflection straight.

A burst of words came back to her that nearly made the translator groan. At the very least, when she returned shortly for a brief reprieve the research archive would be a little deeper. Thinking about this place in the terms of the restaurant, she searched for the right words to convey, “What is most commonly ordered? I’d like that.” When she’d found the words, the look diminished from the waitress. Relieved at this small victory, she didn’t notice the alien male coming up to her table. He wore a similar look of disorientation, on his swollen features. Listening, she heard him ask for her….designation was it? Or name? At least they’re prepared for this.

(Here's the rest. I was originally hoping I could make it longer in class but I had a cutoff)

“My name is Sitar.” Sitar gave him was she hoped would be read as a polite reaction. He paused a moment, making his looming eyes into narrow disks that slid past hers with searching scrutiny.

Adding a half-formed reply, he crept away. Sitar reflected on the name they had chosen for her, sitting it beside her real name in her mind and playing the sounds of the two off one another. When this active failed to bring her calm or pass the time, she resorted to using the data pad in broad sweeps to capture the room as a whole, sparsely inhabited, festering with so much ornamentation of cryptic meaning. She figured the people back home would have fun with it.

The food came. Her worst fears about the presentation were confirmed. Feeling sick again, she nearly declined the meal but shutting her eyes remembered that exploration wasn’t always about doing what you liked but what had to done to increase knowledge. Alien cuisine was just one of those things she would have to endure.

The first swallow clung to the seams of her façade, burned going down and felt like it was being turned back on the way down. Gasping, she drank deeply of the air and the libations the waitress had brought along with the meal. The fire intensified but sank to the lower regions of her body, a buried cascade of flame.

The metaphor rung in her ears again. Drinking only seemed to add kindling. Breathing in shallow gasps, she tried to cover the ache. No one watched her little battle as brought the pain under control. A dozen stinging ideas surrounded what she currently possessed as far as conscious thought. A pathogen? And what if she brought one back? It could wipe out everyone if she didn’t come in with the proper protection, but what did they know about how things traveled from being to being here? Or maybe the pain was just from an indigestible polypeptide her system had never encountered before.

Either way, she didn’t feel much in the mood of finishing what she’d been given. As she wiped the residual of what she had consumed from her face, she felt a slight suction and a flutter in her chest. The facial application was loose. She poked it a few times, ignoring the sensory disconnection until this moment.

The waitress returned. “Sitar” turned the affected region away in fear. If the alien noticed, she didn’t show it as she laid two artifacts down in front of Sitar and spoke softly to her. Waiting for the translator to finish, Sitar went back to nodding, which fortunately satisfied the waitress this time.

One item made a good container for the remaining food. The other she recognized as well and realized she would have to expend some of the currency that previous ventures had collected and made sure the worth of what she was leaving was equal to the cost.

When she was convinced that the two were as close as she could get them with her existing knowledge, she quietly left the alien restaurant and continued up the street in the same direction that she’d come, watching strangers pass. The translator noticed what in direct translation seemed like a book store. Here, Sitar purchased a pair of books on language which had been two of the few she’d been able to interpret the titles of right away

Working her away past the return point, she captured a good deal more about the aliens and some of their habits, in particular the expressions they typically used when conversing. Watching from afar, she tried to mimic them and felt her façade swift again with the tensing of her muscles. She drew a hand across her face to cover the irregularity. None of them seemed to notice at first but the children, which she couldn’t help but think of as larvas for a moment as she watch them helped messily along by their elders. The children seemed to pierce into her with sharp eyes aflame. Not with malicious intent but with a nearly preternatural understanding of what was beneath her false image. Their heads lolled and already seemed too large for their bodies and more her size even in their undeveloped form.

She considered a moment that maybe they had an intermediate stage but quickly discarded the idea.

The return point was the same as she had left. Calling up the code sequence, she felt relieved to have a few hours of relaxation while she would be checked for contaminates. Glancing to the right, she noticed something written in the alien language along the wall and took a quick capture so she could examine it later.

Waiting, she heard no answer or sensation of deconstruction. The air, foul that it was, did not stir. Panic gripped her as she tried the sequence again. It would be a good number of hours before it gave way to fear and despair at being, as far as she could tell, trapped on this place, this….seeing the indecipherable script on the wall, “Spring Falls Cleaners.” And with only bare scouting equipment, and a pair of books marked “The Works of Robert Frost” and “War and Peace”…obviously about meteorology and cooking.

She resolved to try again every day until she got an answer but it was big glaring bright world out there and she had other priorities, like staying alive and keeping the fire out. The rush of feet nearby swallowed her thoughts as she brought herself back to the thoroughfare.

She’d have home to keep her warm, she told herself, clutching everything closer, shivering.

Fin

Oy Ghevult... I have some stuff I could post here, but it's big and long and took two months of writing, cross-checking and such to accomplish, and i don't remember the whole thing... when I'm next in contact with my big-assed-book of recording, I'll post it all. Nice work, by the way.
*Is reminded of some offspring lyrics: Fire allways makes it better!*
-:D