Preview Of Untitled Piece.
Monkeybonk
Join Date: 2003-08-04 Member: 18859Banned
Join Date: 2003-08-04 Member: 18859Banned
<div class="IPBDescription">© 2003 David Schutz</div> Flakes of rust broke away from the door as it slowly creaked open. The flakes lazily tumbled through the air and floated further down the dimly lit docking corridor. Ancient rubber seals cracked and split, allowing the station’s air and escape through the narrow crack, with a loud hiss. The air had a stale, dry smell, the result of it having been breathed, exhaled, and recycled for years. The pressure in the docked shuttle began to equalize, and the loud hiss quieted. The ancient servomotors weren’t up to the task of powering the heavy door: they squealed and began to smoke, and the smell of ozone filled the air. The squeal rebounded off the metal walls throughout the station.
A titanium jack was wedged between the doors. An extremely powerful lift engine, the kind designed to move heavy generators, began to power the jack, and slowly forced the doors apart. When they were roughly an inch apart, 2 pairs of hands reached between the crack and assisted the winch. Slowly, the strong doors, designed to keep the inside of the station separated from the hostile vacuum of space, succumbed to the forces acting against it. Something hidden the wall snapped, and the doors slid easily apart. They were designed to remain shut in all situations, and the loss of most of the power grid told the station’s computer that the opening was unauthorized, and a second set of servomotors began to force the door shut. A strong brace was wedged between the doors to keep them open.
Border Station Montpellier was a refuge on the very edge of the colonized systems, drifting through the Ariadne Arm at roughly 30,000 miles an hour. It housed a population of roughly 120 men and women. Though not formally a military installation, it was not uncommon for the military to stock the Border Stations with their own recruits as part of their tour of duty. Being assigned to a border station was considered by many a punishment, for it meant long months away from home with little contact with the outside world, as communications over such great distances were costly.
However, each Border Station was programmed to procure an automated status report once a month. This status report would be received at the nearest military installation and would list vital information, such as status reports on station components. Border Stations were designed and commissioned literally centuries ago, when space expansion and xenophobia were hot issues. To quell the masses, the United American Navy constructed the Border Stations with the intent of using them as an early warning system against outside attacks, as well as a refueling stop for scouting ships. The failure of the Border Stations was a financial blight the United American Navy liked to keep quiet. Since then, the Border Stations were constantly towed around to new locations, refitted and repaired and largely kept out of sight and out of mind. The annual reports sat in a box for a few days, glanced over by a nameless clerk, and shuffled away somewhere, deep in the military archives.
Border Station Montpellier transmitted its annual report on time, as always. The nameless clerk would have shuffled it away, but something had caught his eye. The status reports from the life support systems were off the charts. ‘Gallons of water consumed’ read 30,000, while the ‘Gallons of water recycled’ read 0. He glanced down the list at the ‘Systems’ report, and all read in functioning order, even the water purifiers. Curious, he read deeper into the file. About five days before the report was sent out, the UAS Mont, a scouting ship, docked with Border Station Montpellier, with purposes of refueling. No record of its departure existed.
The clerk sent the report to his supervisor, advising him to ask for a new query of the station’s systems. The supervisor sent out the query, and it came back, much different. The main power systems were almost completely offline. The power grid itself was in shambles. The main communication systems were severely damaged, and damage to various subsystems was spreading. According to the station, not a single gallon of water had been consumed in the last 5 days, and not a single gallon was recycled. Finally, the station reported that Co2 levels in the air were at deadly levels, and that both primary air scrubbers had suffered a catastrophic failure. Communication with the station was attempted, but each time, the signal was reported as unstable, and failed.
A survey team was to be dispatched and investigate the Border Station., but the nearest UAN installation was no where near Montpellier’s course the earliest a team could arrive was in a month, at least. The closest hospitable planet was Planet Sassron. However, news leaked to the ears of the Trans-System Authority, and they made the brash claim that they could have a commando unit at Montpellier within the month. The UAN gave them the go-ahead. Credits were better spent elsewhere then investigating anomalous readings of a distant Border Station, and if the TSA wanted to play Cowboys and Indians, they could do it on their own bill.
In two weeks and on schedule, the TSA Dropship Kaigon had reached Montpellier, and docked with the station.
In the next dock over rested the unlit hulk of the UAS Mont, still docked with Montpellier.
A titanium jack was wedged between the doors. An extremely powerful lift engine, the kind designed to move heavy generators, began to power the jack, and slowly forced the doors apart. When they were roughly an inch apart, 2 pairs of hands reached between the crack and assisted the winch. Slowly, the strong doors, designed to keep the inside of the station separated from the hostile vacuum of space, succumbed to the forces acting against it. Something hidden the wall snapped, and the doors slid easily apart. They were designed to remain shut in all situations, and the loss of most of the power grid told the station’s computer that the opening was unauthorized, and a second set of servomotors began to force the door shut. A strong brace was wedged between the doors to keep them open.
Border Station Montpellier was a refuge on the very edge of the colonized systems, drifting through the Ariadne Arm at roughly 30,000 miles an hour. It housed a population of roughly 120 men and women. Though not formally a military installation, it was not uncommon for the military to stock the Border Stations with their own recruits as part of their tour of duty. Being assigned to a border station was considered by many a punishment, for it meant long months away from home with little contact with the outside world, as communications over such great distances were costly.
However, each Border Station was programmed to procure an automated status report once a month. This status report would be received at the nearest military installation and would list vital information, such as status reports on station components. Border Stations were designed and commissioned literally centuries ago, when space expansion and xenophobia were hot issues. To quell the masses, the United American Navy constructed the Border Stations with the intent of using them as an early warning system against outside attacks, as well as a refueling stop for scouting ships. The failure of the Border Stations was a financial blight the United American Navy liked to keep quiet. Since then, the Border Stations were constantly towed around to new locations, refitted and repaired and largely kept out of sight and out of mind. The annual reports sat in a box for a few days, glanced over by a nameless clerk, and shuffled away somewhere, deep in the military archives.
Border Station Montpellier transmitted its annual report on time, as always. The nameless clerk would have shuffled it away, but something had caught his eye. The status reports from the life support systems were off the charts. ‘Gallons of water consumed’ read 30,000, while the ‘Gallons of water recycled’ read 0. He glanced down the list at the ‘Systems’ report, and all read in functioning order, even the water purifiers. Curious, he read deeper into the file. About five days before the report was sent out, the UAS Mont, a scouting ship, docked with Border Station Montpellier, with purposes of refueling. No record of its departure existed.
The clerk sent the report to his supervisor, advising him to ask for a new query of the station’s systems. The supervisor sent out the query, and it came back, much different. The main power systems were almost completely offline. The power grid itself was in shambles. The main communication systems were severely damaged, and damage to various subsystems was spreading. According to the station, not a single gallon of water had been consumed in the last 5 days, and not a single gallon was recycled. Finally, the station reported that Co2 levels in the air were at deadly levels, and that both primary air scrubbers had suffered a catastrophic failure. Communication with the station was attempted, but each time, the signal was reported as unstable, and failed.
A survey team was to be dispatched and investigate the Border Station., but the nearest UAN installation was no where near Montpellier’s course the earliest a team could arrive was in a month, at least. The closest hospitable planet was Planet Sassron. However, news leaked to the ears of the Trans-System Authority, and they made the brash claim that they could have a commando unit at Montpellier within the month. The UAN gave them the go-ahead. Credits were better spent elsewhere then investigating anomalous readings of a distant Border Station, and if the TSA wanted to play Cowboys and Indians, they could do it on their own bill.
In two weeks and on schedule, the TSA Dropship Kaigon had reached Montpellier, and docked with the station.
In the next dock over rested the unlit hulk of the UAS Mont, still docked with Montpellier.
Comments
...
However, from my interpretation of the Kharaa, I think they need oxygen to live. May want to change that part a bit perhaps.
As far as the English is going i have a few suggestions.
In the first line i'd remove the repeated flake part. just say "they lazily tumbled". also you repeat a word or two which sortof distracted the flow of my reading. i.e in "slowly forced the doors apart. When they were roughly an inch apart, 2" apart repeats. Only a small thing but i noticed it. I like the detail but sometimes it distracts from the story. i.e
"Slowly, <i>the strong doors, designed to keep the inside of the station separated from the hostile vacuum of space</i>, succumbed " I'd keep to one or the other since you've gone overkill with the doors already imo.
I thought if i picked up on some errors and gave you my opinion on the writing it would help also. I dont mean it to be rude or anything. I think it was well done and i think i'll enjoy reading the rest. <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->
As far as the English is going i have a few suggestions.
In the first line i'd remove the repeated flake part. just say "they lazily tumbled". also you repeat a word or two which sortof distracted the flow of my reading. i.e in "slowly forced the doors apart. When they were roughly an inch apart, 2" apart repeats. Only a small thing but i noticed it. I like the detail but sometimes it distracts from the story. i.e
"Slowly, <i>the strong doors, designed to keep the inside of the station separated from the hostile vacuum of space</i>, succumbed " I'd keep to one or the other since you've gone overkill with the doors already imo.
I thought if i picked up on some errors and gave you my opinion on the writing it would help also. I dont mean it to be rude or anything. I think it was well done and i think i'll enjoy reading the rest. <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo--> <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd-->
The Kharra part was a joke... I was just pointing out: DON'T MAKE ASSUMPTIONS! But yes, there will be Kharra.
As for the Kharra breathing, 6 days in Sanjii implies that the alien bacteria can even survive in a vacuum. Otherwise, why don't they clear out Tanith just by turning off everything? Like the Kharra would be able to power it back up... and besides, it's just toxic to HUMANS <!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo-->
As for the rusty flaky rust, I worked away on that sentance for like 5 minutes, and it obviously can get better.
The United America thinger is mentioned <a href='http://www.natural-selection.org/world_marine2.html' target='_blank'>here</a>.
Thanks for the comments <!--emo&:D--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif'><!--endemo--> I wish more people read this. I won't be posting any more of the story until I get a few chapters complete.
e/ oh and no need to get defensive about the rust thing i'm just calling out suggestions. <!--emo&:p--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/tounge.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='tounge.gif'><!--endemo-->
<!--emo&:)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/smile.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='smile.gif'><!--endemo--> Criticism is good.
As for the United America crapola, I don't like it either. It takes 20 seconds to change anyway <!--emo&:D--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif'><!--endemo-->