Post by macawol on Jul 21, 2009 15:55:53 GMT -6
Warning. Warning. Warning. This is not a Star Trek story.
But this seems like the right place to put it.
This is just a sample of the Story, but I would like to hear your opinion.
Piet looked out over the empty grounds, only a few trainees were going through the usual exercises. The screen-window looked out on the Imperial banner hanging limp from the flagpole, under a slightly clouded and windless sky. Soon a thunderstorm would come this way. School was definitely over now.
He thought of the facility as a school. It was of a sort. A place to train young men to fight and die, in the emperor’s war. It was built on a planet in the Amoth solar system. A system far enough away from the busy core systems to avoid any major attacks. The great plains of the planet maintained a breathable atmosphere. There were signs that the planet had been terraformed in ancient time, but no records existed to support the fact.
His hands were folded behind his back as he stood there in his crisp grey uniform. It was a rather simple and practical uniform, the only things that broke that grey monotony was the signs of his rank as 4th pip Colonel on his right chest, and the top of his shoulders. The one good idea, which had come from the twisted mind, of the emperor. He had maintained the primary rank from a normal military rank system, but had initiated a separation within the rank, by adding pips, so a 4th pip Sergeant would be higher than a 2nd Sergeant, but lower than a 1st Lieutenant. The most pips awarded that he had ever heard of were 5. And that sharp contours of the Amoth Prime Basic Training Facility’s crest on his right shoulder, and the imperial crest on his left shoulder. Today he wasn’t carrying his sidearm. He was proud of his uniform. He had worn it for 15 years now, as long as the empire had existed. He took off his jacket and hung it over his office chair; he wouldn’t need the symbol of readiness it expressed or its protection, while they talked about their future.
Though he was only a school master, he was a good one, and had therefore been denied a chance to fight for the empire in, what would be, the final battle, as his skills as a teacher and administrator was needed to train more men for horrors of the meat grinder of war.
He sighed. Now things were different, the Emperor was dead. His mouth curled up in a disdainful half-smile, the self-proclaimed Emperor Kain Dhar the 1st. The Emperor had been a simple naval officer in the republic’s Starfleet, but with his untrained psychic ability to sway others to his way of thinking, had quickly given him control over a large military force. After that Kain Dair’s megalomania had almost ripped the throat out of the republic.
As trillions of others, he had fallen under the psychic influence of this charismatic monster, which had cast the galaxy into a horrible war. Trillions had been killed, even planets had been destroyed. Worlds blasted into new asteroid-fields.
He had never thought he would feel this way, but he hated the Emperor. He hated him for blinding young men with his poisonous words. He hated him for destroying the young man he had been. For making him carrying out the horrors he had.
He felt his eyes sting. He lifted his hand and wiped away a bitter tear. But now it was too late. The deeds had been done, and they could never be undone.
He looked at his reflection in the thermo-plex Screen-window. Thermo-plex molecules could each react differently to light, by electrically controlling them; Thermo-plex could work as a monitor, a mirror, or a window.
He looked as old and lost, like he felt he was, as so many others. He was a man of 39, and a proven combat veteran.
But he still had a small hope. Again he sighed. A little light of hope, based on the goodwill of friends, and former enemies alike.
He tapped the Screen-window, and the view of the school-grounds, in front of the Administration building, was replaced with a display of the Amoth-system, the solar system in which this school was located. Imposed on the left side of the screen was a list of which imperial forces were currently situated in the system; Amoth Prime Basic Training Facility 7320 people. The Facility he led and trained what would have been the future ground-troops of the empire. Amoth Juno Facility: 744 people, 240 of them slaves. Its small mining and research facility located in the asteroid-fields, led by Chief Researcher Poni Maxim and Supervisor Liet Pearl. Amoth Pearl Facility: 205 people. Another facility located in the asteroid-fields, used to train psychics, and led by Major 2nd pip Thum Sergei. A psyker with telekinetic, and empathic abilities. Amoth Fleet: 12435 people. Currently orbiting Amoth Prime in a holding pattern. Amoth Shipyard: 3602 people, of which 862 slaves was working hard shifts on Amoth Prime. About 450 other personnel, this included diplomats, nobles, and certain resource administrators.
A little more than 24000 men displaced in a non-friendly solar system faraway from their native homes. Unable to go home, as it would bring them through enemy territories. But He had to do something to ensure their safety.
As he was pondering, his desk communicator chimed. He turned to look at it, “Yes?”
Hardwired communicators were still used in many places that wanted an almost unjammable method of communication.
The attractive face of his secretary appeared as a holographic image floating over his desk, “Sir, your guests are here. Chief Researcher Maxim, Supervisor Pearl, and Major Sergei”.
The words were spoken in Galac, a language the human race had adopted to improve diplomatic communications in a huge universe. This had evolved it various dialects, but the central core was still the same, even after millenniums.
The holographic image on his desk’s holo-emitter, changed to show a tall, thin, graceful near-human woman with a tormented look in her eyes.
The holo-emitter displayed images by manipulation the light to create a 3 dimension representation above its display disc.
As humanity had spread far and explosively in an almost empty galaxy. Those humans that had left the central world had used genetic manipulation, in just a few generations, to adapt to the various environments they settled in. These humans was known as near-humans, and as Maxim came from a jungle world with a lower gravity, and was therefore taller and thinner that humans, and had better night-vision and hearing.
And a stocky man with an ugly cybernetic eye, which always reminded Piet of a targeting scope. But it was a crude military replacement, which gave him back his sight. Supervisor Pearl was a former Sergeant 2nd pip, which had lost his eye in combat. One of the hundreds of battles the empire had fought, but his skills as a leader, and experience as a miner had earned him his position.
And man that looked so average, that he could be lost in any crowd, if not for an indefinable sharpness to his features. Sergei was carrying his sidearms, his collapsible force blade. A force blade was created by surrounding a small laser with an Olson Field. Anyone could use it, but a trained psyker could fine-tune and shape the blade to increase its sharpness and power. And his cartridge-free plasma pistol. An invention so new that most other military forces didn’t even have access to that technology, though Plasma weapons weren’t new technology. Too many Plasma cartridges in the same weapon created an explosive reaction, which a Cartridge-free weapon did overcome.
“Thank you. Let them in.”
But this seems like the right place to put it.
This is just a sample of the Story, but I would like to hear your opinion.
Piet looked out over the empty grounds, only a few trainees were going through the usual exercises. The screen-window looked out on the Imperial banner hanging limp from the flagpole, under a slightly clouded and windless sky. Soon a thunderstorm would come this way. School was definitely over now.
He thought of the facility as a school. It was of a sort. A place to train young men to fight and die, in the emperor’s war. It was built on a planet in the Amoth solar system. A system far enough away from the busy core systems to avoid any major attacks. The great plains of the planet maintained a breathable atmosphere. There were signs that the planet had been terraformed in ancient time, but no records existed to support the fact.
His hands were folded behind his back as he stood there in his crisp grey uniform. It was a rather simple and practical uniform, the only things that broke that grey monotony was the signs of his rank as 4th pip Colonel on his right chest, and the top of his shoulders. The one good idea, which had come from the twisted mind, of the emperor. He had maintained the primary rank from a normal military rank system, but had initiated a separation within the rank, by adding pips, so a 4th pip Sergeant would be higher than a 2nd Sergeant, but lower than a 1st Lieutenant. The most pips awarded that he had ever heard of were 5. And that sharp contours of the Amoth Prime Basic Training Facility’s crest on his right shoulder, and the imperial crest on his left shoulder. Today he wasn’t carrying his sidearm. He was proud of his uniform. He had worn it for 15 years now, as long as the empire had existed. He took off his jacket and hung it over his office chair; he wouldn’t need the symbol of readiness it expressed or its protection, while they talked about their future.
Though he was only a school master, he was a good one, and had therefore been denied a chance to fight for the empire in, what would be, the final battle, as his skills as a teacher and administrator was needed to train more men for horrors of the meat grinder of war.
He sighed. Now things were different, the Emperor was dead. His mouth curled up in a disdainful half-smile, the self-proclaimed Emperor Kain Dhar the 1st. The Emperor had been a simple naval officer in the republic’s Starfleet, but with his untrained psychic ability to sway others to his way of thinking, had quickly given him control over a large military force. After that Kain Dair’s megalomania had almost ripped the throat out of the republic.
As trillions of others, he had fallen under the psychic influence of this charismatic monster, which had cast the galaxy into a horrible war. Trillions had been killed, even planets had been destroyed. Worlds blasted into new asteroid-fields.
He had never thought he would feel this way, but he hated the Emperor. He hated him for blinding young men with his poisonous words. He hated him for destroying the young man he had been. For making him carrying out the horrors he had.
He felt his eyes sting. He lifted his hand and wiped away a bitter tear. But now it was too late. The deeds had been done, and they could never be undone.
He looked at his reflection in the thermo-plex Screen-window. Thermo-plex molecules could each react differently to light, by electrically controlling them; Thermo-plex could work as a monitor, a mirror, or a window.
He looked as old and lost, like he felt he was, as so many others. He was a man of 39, and a proven combat veteran.
But he still had a small hope. Again he sighed. A little light of hope, based on the goodwill of friends, and former enemies alike.
He tapped the Screen-window, and the view of the school-grounds, in front of the Administration building, was replaced with a display of the Amoth-system, the solar system in which this school was located. Imposed on the left side of the screen was a list of which imperial forces were currently situated in the system; Amoth Prime Basic Training Facility 7320 people. The Facility he led and trained what would have been the future ground-troops of the empire. Amoth Juno Facility: 744 people, 240 of them slaves. Its small mining and research facility located in the asteroid-fields, led by Chief Researcher Poni Maxim and Supervisor Liet Pearl. Amoth Pearl Facility: 205 people. Another facility located in the asteroid-fields, used to train psychics, and led by Major 2nd pip Thum Sergei. A psyker with telekinetic, and empathic abilities. Amoth Fleet: 12435 people. Currently orbiting Amoth Prime in a holding pattern. Amoth Shipyard: 3602 people, of which 862 slaves was working hard shifts on Amoth Prime. About 450 other personnel, this included diplomats, nobles, and certain resource administrators.
A little more than 24000 men displaced in a non-friendly solar system faraway from their native homes. Unable to go home, as it would bring them through enemy territories. But He had to do something to ensure their safety.
As he was pondering, his desk communicator chimed. He turned to look at it, “Yes?”
Hardwired communicators were still used in many places that wanted an almost unjammable method of communication.
The attractive face of his secretary appeared as a holographic image floating over his desk, “Sir, your guests are here. Chief Researcher Maxim, Supervisor Pearl, and Major Sergei”.
The words were spoken in Galac, a language the human race had adopted to improve diplomatic communications in a huge universe. This had evolved it various dialects, but the central core was still the same, even after millenniums.
The holographic image on his desk’s holo-emitter, changed to show a tall, thin, graceful near-human woman with a tormented look in her eyes.
The holo-emitter displayed images by manipulation the light to create a 3 dimension representation above its display disc.
As humanity had spread far and explosively in an almost empty galaxy. Those humans that had left the central world had used genetic manipulation, in just a few generations, to adapt to the various environments they settled in. These humans was known as near-humans, and as Maxim came from a jungle world with a lower gravity, and was therefore taller and thinner that humans, and had better night-vision and hearing.
And a stocky man with an ugly cybernetic eye, which always reminded Piet of a targeting scope. But it was a crude military replacement, which gave him back his sight. Supervisor Pearl was a former Sergeant 2nd pip, which had lost his eye in combat. One of the hundreds of battles the empire had fought, but his skills as a leader, and experience as a miner had earned him his position.
And man that looked so average, that he could be lost in any crowd, if not for an indefinable sharpness to his features. Sergei was carrying his sidearms, his collapsible force blade. A force blade was created by surrounding a small laser with an Olson Field. Anyone could use it, but a trained psyker could fine-tune and shape the blade to increase its sharpness and power. And his cartridge-free plasma pistol. An invention so new that most other military forces didn’t even have access to that technology, though Plasma weapons weren’t new technology. Too many Plasma cartridges in the same weapon created an explosive reaction, which a Cartridge-free weapon did overcome.
“Thank you. Let them in.”
