Tear Me To Shreds!
Nemesis_Zero
Old European Join Date: 2002-01-25 Member: 75Members, Retired Developer, NS1 Playtester, Constellation
Old European Join Date: 2002-01-25 Member: 75Members, Retired Developer, NS1 Playtester, Constellation
I knew that'd catch your attention.
[edited in to accomondate for WW]
<b>Sins</b>
<i>Venus - the antique astronomers had named a big rock whichs atmosphere was only a tiny fraction away from being able to keep a man alive, where acid rain, deadly thunderstorms, extreme pressure and unbelievable heat were usual, after the goddess of womankind.
You couldn't help but to admire their honesty.</i>
And now, despite all the warning signs fate had put up, mankind had come and colonized it. They had created giant domes, had dug in the volcanic stone and sealed the walls of their new homes to make sure that no sulphuric acid or molten stone would drip on their beds. Then, after decades of struggle against everything this world could possibly throw at them, after countless heroic acts and even more suffering, they had let the place go to hell.
Bertrand stepped out of the cheap motel he had spent the night in and into one of the crowded streets of the New Heaven Shades, the oldest slums on the planet. Thunder raged some kilometres above his head and tried to shatter the dome that allowed the humans on the street to go on with their lives.
One of them, dressed in a short pink piece of synth that didn't leave a thing to imagination, approached. "Searching for some amusement?" After taking a short look at her potential costumer, she added with a dirty smile: "Special prices for the holy." Bertrand ignored her, went on, and closed his coat to hide the crucifix - it could offend the wrong people.
He knew that he was not better than her. Back in the old days, some people thought that all prostitutes had sold their souls to the devil, but Bertrand was sure that his soul - the soul of a man who had spent half of his life as one of the best corporate lawyers his generation had seen - would only be interesting if it'd cost 3.95, came with an additional pair of batteries, and could be stored under the bed.
He had received the Call and quit, yes, but that meant only that he wouldn't have to advertise.
This knowledge was what had brought him here, what had made him accept the mission which, should he succeed, would eradicate every shred of sin that lay on his soul, the soul of the hookers that stood on either side of the street he was following, of the ratlike little guy that had given him the keys to the room he did not intend to see again, of the executives in the shimmering towers which dominated the domes 'skyline'; of everyone on this planet.
He could not call a taxi. They had detectors in the doors.
Bertrand wandered through the streets of the New Heaven dome, and any observer would soon get to believe that this average-looking guy in the brown, dirty coat that had been designed to fit a man of twice his weight was only walking around - his way led him from one big street to the other, from one big crowd of people into the next. Any camera that'd accidentally tape him would record a simple man minding his own business in the inner city.
He reached the spaceport after about an hour and followed the constant stream of people into the main hall. The port was the oldest piece of the New Heaven dome and thus the oldest structure on the planet.
Shops stood where the pioneer's provisory living quarters had been. The multi-layered heat shields had been replaced by a smaller version of the transparent citydome to allow the passengers to watch the spacecrafts landing on the enlarged heat shields outside. Bertrand had always been bewildered by the people who pressed their noses against the wall watching the crafts, as if it was funny to have as little space as possible between yourself and an environment that could kill you faster than the void.
He continued his way to the metal tract that contained the docking stations, the security systems against possible terrorist attacks ("A hole here and we might as well pretend Venus has never been colonized", Jeremiah Picard, the last mayor of New Heaven), parts of the defense relays for the case of orbital attacks, and the bio filters, towards which he headed.
The bio filters with their large quarantine areas were, as usual, almost empty. Port security had a small budget, and if you have to chose between either keeping terrorists away and letting the common flu spread or allowing everyone who can afford the fuses to bomb perfectly healthy citizens, you reduce the bio security to a shield saying 'Don't sneeze.'
Bertrand saw one lonely employee who controlled the sensor arrays that checked some animal transport containers. It was a standard procedure that couldn't detect half the viruses out there and tended not to report the other half. However, they could become dangerous to him.
He stepped up to the man at the console when the sensors started examining a fairly big container that had 'Jesus laughs! Christian circus with the famous clown Bob!' written in colourful letters all over it.
The man turned as he heard Bertrand approach. "Your beasts?" Bertrand nodded. He had hoped to bring the whole thing to an end without of conversation, but that descision wasn't his.
"'Ts nice to see someone actually cares about his pets. You see, sir, most people treat the poor beasts like another piece of cargo. Don't get here, don't care about them, there are people like me to do this." The man grinned. "'Ts nice that some people care." The sensor monitor went red. The man turned. "Huh? Strange." If he had not been so busy with finding out what the data meant, he would have heard how the coat of his visitor was opened.
Bertrand sighed. The paradise would be open to this man. He would be forgiven.
He pulled the trigger.
Bertrand opened the container. They looked at him - half hidden in the darkness, waiting for his first move.
He bowed. "I greet you, who were sent to purify us. I, Bertrand Garmer greet you in the name of the Church of the New Seraphim, and invite you to sweep the sin from the face of this planet."
He stood there, waiting for what would happen.[/edit]
[edited in to accomondate for WW]
<b>Sins</b>
<i>Venus - the antique astronomers had named a big rock whichs atmosphere was only a tiny fraction away from being able to keep a man alive, where acid rain, deadly thunderstorms, extreme pressure and unbelievable heat were usual, after the goddess of womankind.
You couldn't help but to admire their honesty.</i>
And now, despite all the warning signs fate had put up, mankind had come and colonized it. They had created giant domes, had dug in the volcanic stone and sealed the walls of their new homes to make sure that no sulphuric acid or molten stone would drip on their beds. Then, after decades of struggle against everything this world could possibly throw at them, after countless heroic acts and even more suffering, they had let the place go to hell.
Bertrand stepped out of the cheap motel he had spent the night in and into one of the crowded streets of the New Heaven Shades, the oldest slums on the planet. Thunder raged some kilometres above his head and tried to shatter the dome that allowed the humans on the street to go on with their lives.
One of them, dressed in a short pink piece of synth that didn't leave a thing to imagination, approached. "Searching for some amusement?" After taking a short look at her potential costumer, she added with a dirty smile: "Special prices for the holy." Bertrand ignored her, went on, and closed his coat to hide the crucifix - it could offend the wrong people.
He knew that he was not better than her. Back in the old days, some people thought that all prostitutes had sold their souls to the devil, but Bertrand was sure that his soul - the soul of a man who had spent half of his life as one of the best corporate lawyers his generation had seen - would only be interesting if it'd cost 3.95, came with an additional pair of batteries, and could be stored under the bed.
He had received the Call and quit, yes, but that meant only that he wouldn't have to advertise.
This knowledge was what had brought him here, what had made him accept the mission which, should he succeed, would eradicate every shred of sin that lay on his soul, the soul of the hookers that stood on either side of the street he was following, of the ratlike little guy that had given him the keys to the room he did not intend to see again, of the executives in the shimmering towers which dominated the domes 'skyline'; of everyone on this planet.
He could not call a taxi. They had detectors in the doors.
Bertrand wandered through the streets of the New Heaven dome, and any observer would soon get to believe that this average-looking guy in the brown, dirty coat that had been designed to fit a man of twice his weight was only walking around - his way led him from one big street to the other, from one big crowd of people into the next. Any camera that'd accidentally tape him would record a simple man minding his own business in the inner city.
He reached the spaceport after about an hour and followed the constant stream of people into the main hall. The port was the oldest piece of the New Heaven dome and thus the oldest structure on the planet.
Shops stood where the pioneer's provisory living quarters had been. The multi-layered heat shields had been replaced by a smaller version of the transparent citydome to allow the passengers to watch the spacecrafts landing on the enlarged heat shields outside. Bertrand had always been bewildered by the people who pressed their noses against the wall watching the crafts, as if it was funny to have as little space as possible between yourself and an environment that could kill you faster than the void.
He continued his way to the metal tract that contained the docking stations, the security systems against possible terrorist attacks ("A hole here and we might as well pretend Venus has never been colonized", Jeremiah Picard, the last mayor of New Heaven), parts of the defense relays for the case of orbital attacks, and the bio filters, towards which he headed.
The bio filters with their large quarantine areas were, as usual, almost empty. Port security had a small budget, and if you have to chose between either keeping terrorists away and letting the common flu spread or allowing everyone who can afford the fuses to bomb perfectly healthy citizens, you reduce the bio security to a shield saying 'Don't sneeze.'
Bertrand saw one lonely employee who controlled the sensor arrays that checked some animal transport containers. It was a standard procedure that couldn't detect half the viruses out there and tended not to report the other half. However, they could become dangerous to him.
He stepped up to the man at the console when the sensors started examining a fairly big container that had 'Jesus laughs! Christian circus with the famous clown Bob!' written in colourful letters all over it.
The man turned as he heard Bertrand approach. "Your beasts?" Bertrand nodded. He had hoped to bring the whole thing to an end without of conversation, but that descision wasn't his.
"'Ts nice to see someone actually cares about his pets. You see, sir, most people treat the poor beasts like another piece of cargo. Don't get here, don't care about them, there are people like me to do this." The man grinned. "'Ts nice that some people care." The sensor monitor went red. The man turned. "Huh? Strange." If he had not been so busy with finding out what the data meant, he would have heard how the coat of his visitor was opened.
Bertrand sighed. The paradise would be open to this man. He would be forgiven.
He pulled the trigger.
Bertrand opened the container. They looked at him - half hidden in the darkness, waiting for his first move.
He bowed. "I greet you, who were sent to purify us. I, Bertrand Garmer greet you in the name of the Church of the New Seraphim, and invite you to sweep the sin from the face of this planet."
He stood there, waiting for what would happen.[/edit]
Comments
***Spoiler**** i guees
so whats that guy "rescuing." a couple of aliens who he thinks can be enlightened?
an unfortunate nut.. someone make the map, have the TSA attempting to confine and eliminate that one location, and it would be great if a body could be placed next to a conveyor belt of boxes, the one mentioned opened and filled with alien goo, but otherwise empty. That would be the hive room.
keep it up
btw, you could do the "...they had let the place go to hell." part better. maybe somthing like...######...i know exactly what i wanna write, i just cant think of it in english... humm, well, fq it, youll figure it out! ;]
Cre[8]tor (How do you spell the <i>brackets</i>?), you're right, and I really had a hard time coming up with something that's not just 'TSA land on Venus... TSA kick alien butt'. For now, I'll leave the marines out and concentrate on what happens to the 'normal' people during an alien invasion.
I'll try to find a better phrase for that 'hell'-thingy... Somewhen <!--emo&:)--><img src="http://www.natural-selection.org/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/smile.gif" border="0" valign="absmiddle" alt=':)'><!--endemo-->
/me thinks its great.
/me drives 15 minutes to take Nem as a hostage and force him to map and write 37 hours a day.
I've actually got a .txt document with a rough sketch of the next part on my desktop, but it'll take time as I'm already rather busy at the moment.
I need some cookies.
Nemisis Zero, what's up with the xenophobe fanatic? He thinks the Kharaa are - whatever god he presicribes to - answer to humans' flaws? Whoa! Fanatics, why are they so damn creepy?
Interesting read, but I can't say I completely like it because since I like playing marines I'd have to rip that SoB a new one with my K-Bar! Dang nab it, the sheer possibilities of this fool's madness is astounding. Is he a part of some new xenophobe religion? Is he controlled by the hive mind to spread its parasites to the colonies of humans? Will he be eaten, slobbered on lovingly, or ignored as he calmly boards the next shuttle to the next human space faring destination? Where did he get the Kharaa from? Are they even Kharaa? I don't think I remember you mentioning that they were Kharaa or skulks or gorges at all. The TSA doesn't even get a mention, this could be a short science fiction story for just about anything!
Hehe, I geuss I might have liked the story after all, seeing all the questions I have about it. Bah! <!--emo&:D--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/biggrin.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='biggrin.gif'><!--endemo-->
'Sins' is about a year old, hence the sometimes really bad choice of words - I'm still learning this language, after all.
It was one of those weird 'two a.m.' creations. My main aim was to put myself into the perspective of a religious fanatic - who is by the way christian, as one may see at the "crucifix". The background is indeed rather exchangeable, although NSes 'spacepunk' atmosphere fits rather well. Should I find time, I'll rewrite this story to make it more presentable, and extend it. Bertrand will not be the main character again, though.