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Old 11-16-2005, 05:17 AM   #1 (permalink)
Thats MR. Muffin Face now
 
losthellhound's Avatar
 
Location: Everywhere work sends me
Some old work with some new stuff

Hello everyone.. I'm baaaacck

I posted a little of this about a year ago, (so dont tell me to search, cause its my post), But enough of it has changed and added that I wanted to post it again

Science Fiction.. by the way..

On Angels' Wings - Prologue

Somewhere Near Pandora, Saturn F Ring

The beginning strains of music drifted slowly and calmly, enveloping the small space around him, and he closed his eyes. A small sly smile drifted across his face. The opening bars were low, melodic, and from a long forgotten instrument called a piano.

Second line secured, code is orange, lines are good to go in 5

The second movement started with a heavy rush of notes, and the smile disappeared. The piano became a monster, pouring forth with a thousand cries of anger and rage. Yet, the counterpoint could be heard, dancing above all. He ran a gloved hand through his short cropped hair and waited, drinking in the music.

Second line penetrated, all codes are red, lines are good to go in 2, 1...

He was pushed violently backwards as he rushed forwards through the darkness. The music stayed with him though, steady and pounding. Around him he saw nothing, then a burst of light, and again, nothing. A bank of lights on wither side flared to life, and his hands went involuntarily to controls in front of him. The music flared for a moment at its peak as he was pushed forth into freedom, and hell.

Rho wing launched, all codes are red. Second line has failed, inner defences activated. Wing commanders collect and organize sorties in green sector.

With steady movements he deftly moved his craft into formation and looked at a screen in front of him that flashed with a thousand angry red dots, steady green lines and calculations that appeared and disappeared. Seconds later he had the information he needed, and made the decision. Reaching over he flicked a small switch with his thumb and waited for silence on the line.

"Rho wing, this is Lt. Marcus. To me. Form up in green two alpha and prepare for run. Mark hostile Ion frigate in blue four delta as target and light her up."

He waited for silence; there would be no discussion, no arguments. With a glance over his shoulder he could see four fighters form up around him. The craft were beautiful, and deadly. Almost twenty feet long, five feet across, and sleek as knives. The music flared once more and drifted off, leaving the counterpoint. Pushing the controls forward, his craft banked and he swung around to settle into an attack run. All around him ships of various size twisted and fought. Searing blasts of energy and explosions flashed by but he remained on course. Glancing at a screen to the left of him he took note of the target: a beast of a ship bristling with weapon ports.

“Rho wing, this is Lt. Marcus. Break formation, wait for lock confirmation and fire at will.”

The fighters veered off from formation in all directions and entered their own attack runs; Marcus was struck by the beauty and grace of the ships as they sped off.

All codes red, inner defences failing. Alpha, Beta, and Gamma wings regroup in blue sector. Activating final measures.

Marcus counted to five and mouthed a prayer he had heard as a child, and then pressed triggers on both the control rods in his hands. Two openings on his wings burst with plasma and he watched his shots arc across the emptiness of space towards the capital ship in front of him. From either side similar shots were being flung forward from his wingmen. The plasma struck the hull and burst into fireballs, ripping portions of the plating off the mammoth. A second later gun ports on the ship trained on the incoming fire and returned it in kind.

“Rho win, break, regroup, and bring her down.” Marcus spoke into the radio.

Pulling his craft into a steep climb relative to the enemy ship, Marcus evaded the plasma blasts aimed at his craft and rolled. He noticed the damage their last attack run had caused, the ship was listing to the port, and several internal explosions were evident near the gaping hole they had created. Marcus targeted the main engines and armed a torpedo. As he spun his craft around he finished the prayer.

“And may he cradle us who walk into the halls of God. And may he forgive us who tarnish the stars with blood and ash.”

With another press of the triggers the torpedo burst out of his craft, arcing with a long bright trail towards the enemy ship. He marvelled at the stunning beauty of it for a moment before it impacted against the engines, bursting into an explosion that hurt his eyes. When his vision cleared the once mighty warship was a twisted hulk of burning metal, a tin can split open by a giant’s hand.

“Amen.” He finished.


* * *


New York – Earth

Jeffrey Thomas glanced at his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. His anger was just below the surface, threatening to shatter his calm exterior, but still in check. The cab driver was either oblivious to his impatience, or chose to ignore it in favour of screaming out his window at the other cars around him. Why he was even in a cab threatened to push Jeffrey over the edge of serenity. This would be the last time the council would drag him to New York on a day’s notice, or at least next time they would provide him a driver. To think that the imminent Jeffrey Thomas, head of the Oculus Project, three time winner of the Nobel prize for Physics, stuck in a non descript taxi three hours deep into rush hour traffic.
“I hate New York.” He mumbled
The cab driver swivelled in his seat to face Jeffrey.
“What was that? You want to take Express instead of fourth?” He asked.
“Just get me there as quickly as possible. And turn down the damn radio!” Jeffrey snarled.
Traffic seemed to surge around them and they were once more on the move. Jeffrey opened his suitcase and pulled out his phone. Quickly dialling a number he ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair. The phone on the other end of the line rang several times before a female voice answered.
“Hello?” The voice asked.
“This is Jeff Thomas for the Admiral.” He responded
“The admiral is en route to the second platform. He will be unreachable until his transport lands. Would you like to leave a message?”
“No, I don’t. Just make sure he doesn’t let the Pegasus launch before I speak with him.”
“Yes sir.”
Jeffery hung up the phone and allowed himself to smile for the first time that day. The Pegasus would launch and four years’ worth of headaches would be off his shoulders, at least until it reached its first destination. When he was in school he never imagined how many committees, meetings, and how much paperwork a simple project could entail. No, not a simple project, that wasn’t Jeffery’s style. The Oculus project was anything but simple, but it was going as planned.

Jeffrey was so wrapped up in his musings he didn’t notice that the car had pulled up in front of his destination. Handing the driver his credstick, Jeffery straightened his tie and gathered his suitcase and coat. Stepping out of the cab, he was struck by the beauty of the building before him: United Nations Space Command headquarters was a recent addition to the UN campus in New York, and its delicate construction allowed it to stick out beside the concrete block of the original UN building, yet seeming to fit in perfectly. His phone started to ring and he put down his suitcase to answer it.

“This is Jeffery.” He answered.
The voice on the other end of the call was scratchy and digitized, yet he could clearly make out the words spoken. “You shall not continue to in your quest to destroy us. We shall prevail against all. You are the first to fall.”
“Damn.” Jeffery swore. He threw the phone away from him and crouched down so his knees touched the ground and grabbed his suitcase. Just as he had suspected, a large black SUV screeched down the street and pulled up onto the curb. Two people jumped out of the vehicle and brandished assault rifles. Either there were already explosions, or the blood was pumping in his head already, but when they screamed, he couldn’t make out the words, only the hatred. They opened fire, filling the air with bullets and empty casings. If anyone could see Jeffrey where he was crouched they would have described that he seemed to flicker and blink, like bad TV reception. Bullets passed through him, and the smoke from shattered concrete made it hard to see, and harder still to breath. When the barrage ended Jeffery was still crouched, not a single mark on his expensive suit or leather suitcase. The assailants frantically reloaded their smoking weapons with new clips but before they could continue firing several shots rang out from the building. A handful of guards had heard the gunfight and were returning fire with handguns. One of the assailants fell with a cry of pain and the other hesitated then pulling out an object from their pocket, jumped back into the SUV. As the SUV jumped the curb and sped off, Jeffrey noticed the object the gunman had pulled rolled up beside him. It was a perfect sphere of dull metal. A single pulsing red light was the only sign of activity.

GravGrenade, shit! He thought to himself. He prayed that his defence system had the juice to handle the explosion and squeezed his eyes shut.

The world turned inside out, and then went black. Jeffrey was disembodied for several seconds as his body leapt as far from real space as possible. The roar of a thousand bombs went off inches from his ears and for a moment he swam in pain so intense that he felt his mind slipping away. Then, as quickly as it flared, it stopped. Jeffrey opened his eyes and instantly regretted it, it would take a few seconds for his body to reacquaint itself with light and gravity and all the things bodies took for granted. When he felt it was safe he reopened his eyes and looked around. Even with his defence system he had been pushed several feet from where he had been. Where he had been crouched was a large crater, roughly five feet across. The GravGrenade pulled matter to its centre like a black hole then pushed it rapidly back out with added force. The resulting explosion could easily punch holes in the sides of battleships and any humans regularly caught in the range of one usually were reduced to nothingness. Jeffrey however was always prepared, and knew this was no regular occurrence. He dusted off his suit needlessly and stood. One of the guards looked him over with obvious trepidation.
“Are you?” The guard asked the half question.
“Yes sergeant, I am fine. Thank you for your assistance.” He replied.
One of the other guards called out from the edge of the street. “Hey! This ones still alive!”
Jeffrey joined the guard and looked down at his would be killer. The guard had already removed the mask and Jeffrey was oddly surprised to find a young woman lying on the street bleeding.
Stop being stupid, he chided himself. More women have wanted you dead in your life then men, this one just had a gun already.
An hour ago Jeffrey would have described her as stunning. Not beautiful in the classic sense, her features sharp and angled. Most likely a mix of European and Oriental heritage.
“I’m sure the head of security will like to have her in custody, please ensure it happens.” Jeffery ordered.
“But sir, she’s on the street. That’s not UN territory, we don’t have jurisdiction.” The guard stammered.
Jeffrey scowled. The last thing he needed was the NYPD questioning him for hours. He reached down and grabbed the woman by the arms and pulled her over the curb and onto the steps.
“You must be mistaken sergeant, she’s right here on UN territory. You have release to remove her proof of citizenship and detain her. By order of” Jeffrey paused. “Admiral Torsky.” Jeffrey smiled, the guard couldn’t ignore an order that had the Admiral’s name attached to it, and Jeffrey was sure that the fleet admiral would back him up on any decision. Jeffrey was too important to the admiral to let his killer be released by the New York police to strike again.
Jeffrey turned to leave but suddenly thought of something. He bent down and reached his hand into the woman’s jacket, searching her pockets. Finding a small sphere shaped object, he retrieved it and placed it in his suitcase.
“She wont need that now will she.”
Jeffrey did not stay to watch the guards move her into the building, he had things to do, a council waiting for him, and the day was starting to look familiar.



* * *

“I don’t care what the EU has to say on this launch! Its not their call!” Yelled Jeffery.
The council collectively drew in breath and waited for the rest of the tirade. Noticing this, Jeffery instead straightened his tie and sat back down. He mentally counted to five then continued in his most calming voice.
“The Pegasus is ready to launch, the Oculas is aligned and ready. I don’t understand why the European Union would be having second thoughts now.” For emphasis he looked across the table at the EU representatives and tilted his head slightly.
A portly man whom Jeffery recognized as a minor official from Prague, stood and nodded to the council before speaking.
“All due respects to Mr. Thomas, but our position is based on current intelligence that states that there will be continued terrorist attacks on our interests if we go ahead with the launch.”
Jeffery snorted. “There will be continued attacks if we don’t launch either.”
“I have heard that the terrorists captured an American frigate. Is this true?” The British member asked.
The American member, a NASA executive named Susan Williams stood casually.
“The reports cannot be verified. The group known as Black Skies has claimed to have taken the US Freedom, but since it is on a patrol on the far side of Saturn, we are currently in communications blackout. I assure you though.” She paused before continuing. “I assure you that if they have indeed managed to disable or capture the US Freedom, that we will recapture it or destroy it well before it gets back into Earth orbit. We have a very hearty defence system as you will remember. We also have several squadrons of fighters in that area.”
Jeffery sat back and smiled. With Susan on his side in this, the council wouldn’t be able to stall the launch, and the EU would be left looking like cowards to their governments.
Another man, this one tall and slightly dandyish stood.
“But Mr. Thomas, Miss Williams. Will you comment on the complete list of “lost” ships in the recent months? By my estimate there are almost a dozen warships not accounted for.” The man stated.
Jeffery’s smile vanished. A dozen ships lost? He looked over at Susan but found her expression had not changed. She cleared her throat and responded.
“Sir. I do not know where you are getting your information, but I assure you, you are mistaken.”
The man scowled and produced a paper from his brief case.
“The Intrepid, the Moon Cast, The Armstrong, the Dauntless, The Elverson, The Asimov… Must I continue Miss Williams?” The man demanded.
“No sir, you must not. Once again I assure you that those ships are not lost, and I recommend that you do not continue this line of questioning. It is not for minor governmental clerks to question the movements of the UN Navy!” Her voice had risen to a pitch and Jeffery noticed that her hands had curled into fists at her sides. She quickly collected herself and sat, as did the man. The chairman of the board coughed softly and stood.
“Do we have any other business here or can we adjourn for today?”
There were quiet murmurs of consent and the chairman gently knocked his gavel against the table.
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"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
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Old 11-16-2005, 03:12 PM   #2 (permalink)
Illusionary
 
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Wicked cool.....I must have missed the first incarnation but, Damn..................
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Old 11-16-2005, 07:04 PM   #3 (permalink)
Drifting
 
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The first bit still held me just as much as the first time around - and glad to see the additional depth in the added parts - Really good stuff here
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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna
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Old 11-16-2005, 10:44 PM   #4 (permalink)
Thats MR. Muffin Face now
 
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Location: Everywhere work sends me
In truth Im a horrible critic of my own work. I rarely see my writing as anything greater then the stuff high school kids write for school projects.. BUT, I've always loved that first part (the space battle).. Ive never been able to continue on with a story that suits its depth
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"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
-- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death
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Old 11-17-2005, 02:23 AM   #5 (permalink)
Drifting
 
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Location: Windy City
LHH - it seems you create more of a connection in the mind in the first one - it is my favorite for this reason. Everyone has different writing strengths, maybe for the other scenarios create a character who you can connect to thoughtwise, even if they are not the focal point of the story. With the character who you DO want to be the focus, maybe describe them as they relate and interact with the thought character. I don't know if that made any sense to you whatsoever, but thats just an observation on my part.
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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna
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Old 11-17-2005, 03:31 AM   #6 (permalink)
Thats MR. Muffin Face now
 
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Location: Everywhere work sends me
Thanks for the encouragement and suggestions
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"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
-- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death
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