Fallen angels
Obibun
Join Date: 2002-04-23 Member: 492Members
Join Date: 2002-04-23 Member: 492Members
<div class="IPBDescription">Metaphorical angels, that is.</div>Got bored last night, wrote up the first part of some fan-fiction. I wrote it up really quickly so it's probably plagued with errors and really bad, but that's okay. It took up some time. <!--emo&:)--><img src="http://www.natural-selection.org/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/smile.gif" border="0" valign="absmiddle" alt=':)'><!--endemo-->
Fallen Angels
“You’ve got to be kidding me...” the drop-ship door slammed shut with a resounding metal clang.
“What now,” the gruff voice of Jarvis sounded out every syllable, enjoying his manipulation of my name, “Graffison?”
“Heh, Jarvis. You’re always so kind… I’m just a bit psyched by this whole ordeal of fighting them – outside.”
“Don’t worry about it, bud. The infestations usually happen inside controlled environments, where the aliens have the advantage. How hard can it be to kill a few squatters who are enjoying the sun?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, I mean… it could just be tha—“
“Stow it, Private.” Sergeant Davis was sounding a bit more angry than usual as he walked in from the cockpit.
“Sir?”
“They’ve just lost contact with both companies sent down into the Marr. That means we’ll be playing search and rescue.”
The Marr. The word itself gave you the right of uncertainty, incompleteness. Something about it was just not there. That’s where we were heading to clear out an “outdoors environmental” infestation, something we’d never seen or even heard of before. Apparently some of the aliens had, for whatever reason, moved outside and started a hive. No one could figure out why – No one cared, they just had to be removed.
“But, sir… pardon me for asking, aren’t we here to fight?” Jarvis’ voice sounded disappointed, pleading.
“I know, private. That’s why I’m not Ms. Mary Sunshine today.” The Sergeant spit onto the hard metal grating covering the floor.
The drop-ship jerked, the sergeant instinctively grabbed on to one of the hand rails above his head. Luckily Jarvis and I, along with the rest of the squad, were safely buckled in. Jarvis and I were the only ones awake… except for Joelle, we figured. He always liked to listen in on people’s conversations, so sometimes he acted as if he was sleeping.
Jarvis must have been thinking the same thing I was, as he gave Joelle a quick nudge with his elbow. Joelle popped up, fully awake.
“W-w-what was that for,” Joelle stated while giving a fake yawn. “I was having a nice dream abou—“
Jarvis nudged him again, this time harder. Usually for Jarvis this meant, ‘Shut up, I know you’re lying.’ Joelle yawned again, rubbed his eyes and decided to act awake for a bit. Again the drop-ship jerked, this time a bit harder. A tinny voice came through the speaker on the ceiling of the ship.
“Hope you’re tucked in tight back there because we’re passing through the atmosphere. The atmosphere seems to have changed, though… I’d know, I’ve been here before. I’m curious as to what these particles in the air are, they look like –“
His voice was cut short by the sound of broken glass and a gurgle. The sergeant immediately ran up towards the cockpit, cursing loudly. Again the speaker sounded, this time it was the sergeant’s voice. His voice was difficult to hear over the roar of the air flying into the cockpit. It was almost in disbelief, as were our faces.
“… Alright, ladies. Our pilot is dead, and we’re currently cruising towards the surface at a comfortable height-drop of 300m/second. Anyone with any piloting skills is formally invited to join me in the cockpit. That is all.”
Everyone was awake now. They looked around, their fear mixed with grim humor as no one stood up. It was expected of the Frontiersmen, especially the Sergeant, to remain calm at all times. Finally, breaking the tenseness of what seemed like hours, but had only been moments, I stood up and ran towards the cockpit.
I lost my footing when the drop-ship heaved, and I fell to the floor instinctively grabbing onto anything I could. Assorted metal objects all came crashing down on me, making loud clangs against the harsh voice of the air. I regained my balance and again headed towards the cockpit. The sergeant gave me a brisk nod as he handed over the controls to me, obviously a bit frustrated with his inability to fly.
I punched the emergency button – Nothing. I punched it again – Nothing. The emergency button was capable of deploying the solar-chute, something reminiscent of a 20th century parachute. After realizing the strip of tape which read, ‘Out of Service’ hanging over the emergency button, I gave up and resolved to land it manually.
Whilst I was trying out the controls, the Sergeant was examining the pilot’s neck. Lodged in it was a sharp piece of what looked to be a mix between metal and rock. Almost dumbfounded he proceeded to pull it out and examine it further until inevitability hit him – Which is when he cursed at me and told me to ‘Land this ****ing thing immediately.’
Grabbing the control stick I gave it a harsh pull upwards, but it didn’t budge, we were dropping too rapidly. I hit the break button – Another handy button for emergencies, which rotated the wings in a fashion that stopped the flow of air. Luckily, for once, the button worked, although I figured this out the hard way when I nailed my head against the ceiling as the drop-ship suddenly slowed with a huge force.
I sighed, relieved, until I realized that we were still cruising towards our deaths, only slower. With this I tried the control stick again, this time it came up after I put a bit of strength into it. It looked like we were going to land it safely.
As if nature had it’s irony, another of the jagged pieces seemed to clip our wing, this time hitting an engine. The drop-ship jarred, I almost slammed into the side wall. I cursed, which was unusual of me. Even the sergeant took a moment out of his rabid ‘encouragement’ to stare at me in disbelief.
Almost in unison with my swearing, the engine burst into flames, as the jagged particles were creating sparks on the side of the wing, one of the sparks plunging into the fuel which was rapidly spewing out. The fire roared, I could feel the heat from inside the cockpit.
I quickly hit a few buttons, redirecting the flow of fuel, which caused the fire to stop. Unfortunately we were still short an engine and we were now within about 200m of the surface.
I gazed at the surface – Littering it were craters and potmarks, the dull, dry brown color of the dirt gave it a look which was hardly appealing. Off in the distance was an installation, which was our original destination. My attention was then diverted back to the cockpit, with the Sergeant’s screams echoing in my ear. I yelled through the speaker, “Everyone, brace for impact – This isn’t going to be pretty…” as I grabbed an assault rifle and lodged it between the wall and the control stick, keeping it as level as possible.
With that I scrambled, almost pulling the Sergeant with me, towards the back of the ship where the rest of the squad lay staring at us. We dove to the floor just as the cockpit smashed into the ground, the sound of broken glass magnified ten times and added to with the sound of peeling and crushed metal. A few pieces of shrapnel came up from the cockpit. Jenkins gave a short yelp as he was hit in the left arm with a piece. Then the ear-piercing sound stopped, and, as if caught in a void, the drop-ship lay tiled at a 45 degree angle against the surface for a few seconds – Everyone looked around, relieved. Then the drop-ship heaved it’s last breath and slammed against the ground, giving a loud thud.
And then… silence.
-END CHAPTER 1-
Fallen Angels
“You’ve got to be kidding me...” the drop-ship door slammed shut with a resounding metal clang.
“What now,” the gruff voice of Jarvis sounded out every syllable, enjoying his manipulation of my name, “Graffison?”
“Heh, Jarvis. You’re always so kind… I’m just a bit psyched by this whole ordeal of fighting them – outside.”
“Don’t worry about it, bud. The infestations usually happen inside controlled environments, where the aliens have the advantage. How hard can it be to kill a few squatters who are enjoying the sun?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right, I mean… it could just be tha—“
“Stow it, Private.” Sergeant Davis was sounding a bit more angry than usual as he walked in from the cockpit.
“Sir?”
“They’ve just lost contact with both companies sent down into the Marr. That means we’ll be playing search and rescue.”
The Marr. The word itself gave you the right of uncertainty, incompleteness. Something about it was just not there. That’s where we were heading to clear out an “outdoors environmental” infestation, something we’d never seen or even heard of before. Apparently some of the aliens had, for whatever reason, moved outside and started a hive. No one could figure out why – No one cared, they just had to be removed.
“But, sir… pardon me for asking, aren’t we here to fight?” Jarvis’ voice sounded disappointed, pleading.
“I know, private. That’s why I’m not Ms. Mary Sunshine today.” The Sergeant spit onto the hard metal grating covering the floor.
The drop-ship jerked, the sergeant instinctively grabbed on to one of the hand rails above his head. Luckily Jarvis and I, along with the rest of the squad, were safely buckled in. Jarvis and I were the only ones awake… except for Joelle, we figured. He always liked to listen in on people’s conversations, so sometimes he acted as if he was sleeping.
Jarvis must have been thinking the same thing I was, as he gave Joelle a quick nudge with his elbow. Joelle popped up, fully awake.
“W-w-what was that for,” Joelle stated while giving a fake yawn. “I was having a nice dream abou—“
Jarvis nudged him again, this time harder. Usually for Jarvis this meant, ‘Shut up, I know you’re lying.’ Joelle yawned again, rubbed his eyes and decided to act awake for a bit. Again the drop-ship jerked, this time a bit harder. A tinny voice came through the speaker on the ceiling of the ship.
“Hope you’re tucked in tight back there because we’re passing through the atmosphere. The atmosphere seems to have changed, though… I’d know, I’ve been here before. I’m curious as to what these particles in the air are, they look like –“
His voice was cut short by the sound of broken glass and a gurgle. The sergeant immediately ran up towards the cockpit, cursing loudly. Again the speaker sounded, this time it was the sergeant’s voice. His voice was difficult to hear over the roar of the air flying into the cockpit. It was almost in disbelief, as were our faces.
“… Alright, ladies. Our pilot is dead, and we’re currently cruising towards the surface at a comfortable height-drop of 300m/second. Anyone with any piloting skills is formally invited to join me in the cockpit. That is all.”
Everyone was awake now. They looked around, their fear mixed with grim humor as no one stood up. It was expected of the Frontiersmen, especially the Sergeant, to remain calm at all times. Finally, breaking the tenseness of what seemed like hours, but had only been moments, I stood up and ran towards the cockpit.
I lost my footing when the drop-ship heaved, and I fell to the floor instinctively grabbing onto anything I could. Assorted metal objects all came crashing down on me, making loud clangs against the harsh voice of the air. I regained my balance and again headed towards the cockpit. The sergeant gave me a brisk nod as he handed over the controls to me, obviously a bit frustrated with his inability to fly.
I punched the emergency button – Nothing. I punched it again – Nothing. The emergency button was capable of deploying the solar-chute, something reminiscent of a 20th century parachute. After realizing the strip of tape which read, ‘Out of Service’ hanging over the emergency button, I gave up and resolved to land it manually.
Whilst I was trying out the controls, the Sergeant was examining the pilot’s neck. Lodged in it was a sharp piece of what looked to be a mix between metal and rock. Almost dumbfounded he proceeded to pull it out and examine it further until inevitability hit him – Which is when he cursed at me and told me to ‘Land this ****ing thing immediately.’
Grabbing the control stick I gave it a harsh pull upwards, but it didn’t budge, we were dropping too rapidly. I hit the break button – Another handy button for emergencies, which rotated the wings in a fashion that stopped the flow of air. Luckily, for once, the button worked, although I figured this out the hard way when I nailed my head against the ceiling as the drop-ship suddenly slowed with a huge force.
I sighed, relieved, until I realized that we were still cruising towards our deaths, only slower. With this I tried the control stick again, this time it came up after I put a bit of strength into it. It looked like we were going to land it safely.
As if nature had it’s irony, another of the jagged pieces seemed to clip our wing, this time hitting an engine. The drop-ship jarred, I almost slammed into the side wall. I cursed, which was unusual of me. Even the sergeant took a moment out of his rabid ‘encouragement’ to stare at me in disbelief.
Almost in unison with my swearing, the engine burst into flames, as the jagged particles were creating sparks on the side of the wing, one of the sparks plunging into the fuel which was rapidly spewing out. The fire roared, I could feel the heat from inside the cockpit.
I quickly hit a few buttons, redirecting the flow of fuel, which caused the fire to stop. Unfortunately we were still short an engine and we were now within about 200m of the surface.
I gazed at the surface – Littering it were craters and potmarks, the dull, dry brown color of the dirt gave it a look which was hardly appealing. Off in the distance was an installation, which was our original destination. My attention was then diverted back to the cockpit, with the Sergeant’s screams echoing in my ear. I yelled through the speaker, “Everyone, brace for impact – This isn’t going to be pretty…” as I grabbed an assault rifle and lodged it between the wall and the control stick, keeping it as level as possible.
With that I scrambled, almost pulling the Sergeant with me, towards the back of the ship where the rest of the squad lay staring at us. We dove to the floor just as the cockpit smashed into the ground, the sound of broken glass magnified ten times and added to with the sound of peeling and crushed metal. A few pieces of shrapnel came up from the cockpit. Jenkins gave a short yelp as he was hit in the left arm with a piece. Then the ear-piercing sound stopped, and, as if caught in a void, the drop-ship lay tiled at a 45 degree angle against the surface for a few seconds – Everyone looked around, relieved. Then the drop-ship heaved it’s last breath and slammed against the ground, giving a loud thud.
And then… silence.
-END CHAPTER 1-
Comments
Very good, sounds like the perfect backstory for a map if you ever get around to making one.
--Scythe--
the_only_scythe@subdimension.com
With the mapping.. Heh, I don't think I'll be mapping anytime soon. I can't stand worldcraft/'puzzle' based mapping systems. Things where you have to build everything - The ground, the trees, the air, the buildings, the interiors.
Things like Tribes/Tribes 2 are fine - You get your [enormous] outdoors map and place trees/buildings on it.
I'm more of a colourer, not an artist. <!--emo&:p--><img src="http://www.natural-selection.org/iB_html/non-cgi/emoticons/tounge.gif" border="0" valign="absmiddle" alt=':p'><!--endemo-->