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Join Date: Jul 2008
Posts: 1
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An Untitled Scifi War Story
I've not thought of a title for this yet. It's a little work in progress I hope to get some feedback on to see what I should focus on improving and what I'm doing well. I'm especially interested in comments on style. Does or doesn't what I've got work? Also, I'll be updating this as I finish. Probably in increments of a few pages.
Outside the hatch, the noise was deafening. The rush of wind past my ears, the dull roar of the Rika APC we were riding in, and the ear-splittingly loud shriek of the two Terran-made APC’s overtaxed fusion-electric fanjet engines combined to form something truly unpleasant. If I’d thought to wear my helmet, the noise wouldn’t be much of a problem, but my helmet was currently sitting at my feet. Considering the dangerously sharp turns our pilot was making, it seemed I was better off taking my chances with the hearing damage than risk shattering my skull against the edge of the Rika’s armored hull. As it was, I was clinging to the grips of the plasma cannon for dear life. Our pilot swung us around another corner without even bothering to slow down. We passed within a foot of the flat black reflective face of an immense spire, apparently unscathed by the destruction unleashed from orbit. My face was thrown even closer by my momentum. Thankfully my armored breastplate absorbed the worst of the impact.
Mercifully, this looked to be the last nasty turn for a while, and our little convoy found itself on what was left of a straight thoroughfare that looked to stretch on for miles before us. I took the time to appreciate the view—something that was entirely new to me, a simple colonial trooper. The biggest cities I’d seen were nothing like this. Even in it’s damaged condition, the massive towers were awe inspiring. The only bigger things I’d ever seen this close were the massive space elevators of many worlds. Fortunately, we weren’t close to any enemy positions yet, and sightseeing was infinitely better than sitting in the Rika’s cramped troop bay. In any case, we still had a half-hour’s ride through this urban maze. Narrow spires in hundreds of styles towered on either side of us. Many were badly damaged; whole sections demolished by heavy orbital bombardment. Shockingly, not one had fully collapsed Looking over the edge of our razor-thin Rika, the buildings stretched as far as I could see below us too, fading into nothingness in an unpleasant yellow smog thousands of feet beneath us. What lay below that, I couldn’t say.
Before I could ponder this question any further, our Rika lurched sickeningly downwards, swinging ninety degrees into a side street even as we continued to accelerate downwards. We screamed under lines of footbridges connecting towers on either side of the street. Each shadow over my head made me reflexively duck, despite the fact that my rational mind knew that the walkways were far too high up to remove my head. Gradually, our pilot killed our forward thrust, and we began to descend vertically and then come to a hovering halt (at a mercifully safe speed, no less). I ducked into the Rika’s troop bay, slamming the hatch closed and pulling on my helmet as I took the seat closest to the gun-hatch.
.”What’s going on out there?” I asked.
“I dunno, Sarge,” said the soldier next to, one of my fireteam leaders, Yan Brushwood, “There wasn’t anything on the radio but ‘off the main street’. We’re all here, right.”
I thought back. I had seen all of our section’s other seven vehicles before I had ducked inside the Rika. That was good at least.
“Yeah, nobody’s hit as far as I saw. We’re all here”
“Thank the gods for small comforts,” said Yan dryly.
“Lieutenant,” I said over the radio, “What’s going on out there?”
“Hell if I know, Baron,” said Lieutenant Titus Marc, Delta Section’s commanding officer. “Soo just said get off the main street and fast.”
Another soft voice cut into the comm. channel. It was distinctly alien, a strange combination of amphibian crossed with a choking cat attempting to speak Coalition Diplomatic: “Apologies, for my abruptness lieutenant and sergeants,” said Soovul. “It appears that I may have overreacted to a perceived threat. The sensors in the Gryphon detected multiple thermal signatures and the exchange of weapons fire below us. No Coalition IFF tags have been detected. Twenty of the thermal signatures seem to be human. The other thirty signatures appear to be consistent with the signatures of Tassesh light infantry units to the extent that any consistency is possible among the Tassesh.”
“Who could possibly be here?” pondered Marc.
“Gangers, sir,” contributed sergeant Verda Essen. “Bloody stupid Colonials,” she added sarcastically as an afterthought. “No self-respecting ganger would leave their turf just because some high and mighty govvie told them to. Trust me, I know from experience.”
“What do their chances look like, Verda?” asked Marc.
“Depends on a lot on the gang, the layout of the street, and how familiar they are with it, sir,” said Verda, “but I’d say the average ganger is about as good as a Terran marine, maybe s bit better than us at urban warfare. Against thirty Tassesh LIs their odds could be a hell of a lot better.”
“You’re our expert, Verda. As you said, most of us are bloody stupid colonials. Do you think it’s worth backing them up or not?”
“Definitely worth it, sir. Gangers aside, we outnumber the enemy more than two to one, we also have exos, heavy weapons, and armor support. We can’t possibly lose this fight, and we really need people who know the undercity. These high airways are too exposed. Up here, any anti-aircraft emplacements or snipers have a clear shot on us from miles away before we can see them ourselves.”
“Alright. Soo, can you do a full topographical scan of the area so we can pick LZs.”
“The scan is in progress, lieutenant. I have also deployed our scout drones.”
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This looks like something out of Into the Mountains of Madness--the children's edition with pretty, full color illustrations of unspeakable Lovecraftian horrors.
-wei
Why do you need to sharpen Sparta?
-wei
Last edited by weishan : 07-04-2008 at 12:47 AM.
Reason: addition
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