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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Dec 5, 2007 23:34:31 GMT -5
Here's a new story I'm working on. It takes place in the Dune universe in the year 175 B.G. (Before Guild).
Read & enjoy, or not.
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Living Martyrs
A tale of the Machine Crusade,
As told by Supreme Executrix Salar Ordos
175 B.G. (Before Guild)
The quiet of the serene Draconis ice plains was shattered by the roar of plasma engines. The disturbance was a Geidi “Bristleback” Class-II gunship escorted by three slim Kindjal fighters on an attack vector. The Bristleback’s pilot was leaning over the control stick, gripping tightly, perspiration had condensed inside his flight helmet as his Gunship raced over the desolate and devoid landscape, and in the distance he could see the machine city. He called to the tail gunner, “Icru, how many are there?” there were a few eerie moments before he answered, “At least nine Duad.” The pilot then muttered a curse over the comline, “Segundo Ordos, something the matter?” Asked the leader of the escorts in a slightly sarcastic manner. Ordos answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “No, of course not, especially not the ten Machine interceptors behind us.” All the Kindjal pilots then madly started swiveling their heads to try to get a glimpse of their ‘six.
Behind the flight flew twelve Machine Interceptors, their sleek, razor-like forms cut through the frigid air as if it was paper. Able to sustain speeds no human could endure the ships zoomed towards their targets. The lead interceptor transmitted to the others, “Lord Omnius demands an efficient success here, do not disappoint him.” The others complied without question, as was their programming. They were now within 2 kilometers to their targets, Gauss cannon and aerodynamic concussion missiles emerged from their compartments, the hunt was about to begin…
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I wouldn't post the next part unless I have the permission of teh Supreme Admin, It has a word in it I don't consider mild.
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Post by Phoenix on Dec 6, 2007 0:08:47 GMT -5
xD Go right ahead, DLR. ^^
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Dec 6, 2007 7:22:38 GMT -5
M'kay then.
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“Icru, keep those demonic bastards off our tail.” The Segundo stammered with hesitation. The gunship was only 3K Kilometers from his target, only a little longer… Just as he was thinking a synthesized rang over the comline, “Feral Hrethgir, prepare to be exterminated. In the name of the Evermind, I vanquish you.” The pilots were surprised by this machine’s audacity, most machines weren’t independent, and aside from a few, that left only one explanation. Cymek. A human traitor to the machines. A disembodied brain with a machine body. “Come and get it, coward.” The second Kindjal pilot threatened. “Then you shall find the tranquility of death.” The Neo retorted, with a lingering on Death. Ordos was a nervous wreck; his perspiration fogged his helmet’s faceplate, “K-keep them off us.” He stuttered. “Will do.” The Kindjals readied their weapons, and activated their Holtzman shields, they then broke away to engage the machine ships. As the Human fighters careened towards the interceptors, the machines let loose a volley of missiles. The lead Kindjal pilot’s eyes dilated, “INCOMING!” he screamed over the intercom, but alas it was too late, one fighter was hit directly and vaporized instantly, the other missiles missed, while frazzling the pilots. They pulled the triggers on their sticks, but the only response was a click, they had forgotten that concussion missiles will disrupt electrical weapon systems. At first the lead pilot was terrified, then he realized what he must do, “Boa two… accelerate to ramming speed.” he uttered flatly. Ordos, upon hearing this was, to say the least, distressed. “WHAT?!? We need you back here!” But determined to give their lives for the Jihad, the Kindjal pilots flew onwards increasing airspeed as they went. “Yes, you do need us,” said the Kindjal leader, “but all of humanity needs you. For Serena Butler and Manion the Innocent!” Just as he finished, his Kindjal careened into an interceptor, destroying both ships and pilots. The second followed suit, but took two with him.
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There you goes. I'm gonna wait 'til I get some review before I post the rest.
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Post by Phoenix on Dec 6, 2007 18:22:16 GMT -5
Hmm.. Just some word of advice from a fellow writer:
1.Try splitting your work into paragraphs. It's easier to read that way.
But other than that. Keep up the good work. ^^
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Dec 6, 2007 18:59:22 GMT -5
Thanks. Since this is a fanfic about Dune: The Machine Crusade, I find it challenging to split it into paragraphs like the books do. As well as more developed vocabulary.
Anyways thanks I'll get the next part up soon!
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Dec 7, 2007 22:47:09 GMT -5
 A historical segment has been intercepted and decoded from House Ordos. ____________________________________________________ The pilot of the gunship gripped his flightstick tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping the machines at bay. “They’re on us!” announced Icru through the com system. The Gauss cannon of the interceptors started belching molten lead at the gunship as it narrowly dodged the projectiles. The tail chaingun started to spin slowly then faster and faster until you couldn’t see the barrels and more, only a blur. Then it started firing, you didn’t hear separate shots, only a single continuous noise. Icru had to make his shots count, for he only had so much ammunition. He precisely hit three to detonate, and two more to go down, just as he was on his sixth, a gauss round took off his head. As Duaden felt the craft shutter he yelled to Icru, “Keep ‘em off our ‘six!” After several minutes with no response Duaden changed his Radar to visual for the rear gun position, and what he saw nearly made him sick. The inside of the cockpit was splattered with blood and gore, as he looked at Icru’s body the head and neck were [this passage has been censored by the Guild for those who are easiliy sickened] He quickly switched it to targeting and concentrated on the mission at hand. |
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Post by Ambika on Dec 9, 2007 16:02:03 GMT -5
1.Try splitting your work into paragraphs. It's easier to read that way. I agree with Revan here, DLR, I am in fact a writer myself actually. The fiction should be split into paragraghs and the same has to go to the characters when they are talking. Separate them into each paragraghs if another character speaking next, otherwise people will be lost and confuse with it and thinking one/same character talking at the time. Overall, keep up the good work. I'm impress. =) |
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Dec 11, 2007 18:08:19 GMT -5
Like between each line of dialouge? Can any of you all help me with a Duneiverse female name? I'm just not satisfied with the one I have.
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Post by Ambika on Dec 11, 2007 18:54:51 GMT -5
Like between each line of dialouge? Yes. Can any of you all help me with a Duneiverse female name? Aludra Ixchel Libitina Naenia Zaramama |
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Dec 11, 2007 19:52:21 GMT -5
Five choices:Aludra Ixchel Libitina Naenia Zaramama Hmmmm... I was going to go for the second one right off the bat, but, Ix is a planet's name in the Duneiverse. I think I'll go with Naenia. Thanks! |
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Post by Ambika on Dec 13, 2007 9:59:37 GMT -5
You're welcome. Happy to help.  |
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Jan 4, 2008 19:12:36 GMT -5
A revised and Re-edited version of Chapter one.
____________________________________________________
Living Martyrs
A tale of the Machine Crusade,
Chapter One
175 B.G. (Before Guild)
The quiet of the serene Draconis ice plains was shattered by the roar of plasma engines. The disturbance was a Geidi “Bristleback” Class-II gunship escorted by three slim Kindjal fighters on an attack vector. The Bristleback’s pilot was leaning over the control stick, gripping it tightly, perspiration had condensed inside his flight helmet as his Gunship raced over the desolate and devoid landscape, and in the distance he could see the machine city. He called to the tail-gunner, “Icru, how many are there?” there were a few eerie moments before he answered,
“At least nine Duad.” The pilot then muttered a curse over the comline.
“Segundo Ordos, something the matter?” then inquired the leader of the escort fighters in a slightly sarcastic manner.
Ordos answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “No, of course not, especially not the ten Machine interceptors behind us.” All the Kindjal pilots then madly started swiveling their heads to try to get a glimpse of their ‘six, and of the terrifying specks on the horizon.
Behind the flight flew twelve Machine Interceptors, their sleek, razor-like forms cut through the frigid air as if it was paper. Able to sustain speeds no human could endure the ships zoomed towards their targets. The lead interceptor transmitted to the others, “Lord Omnius demands an efficient success here, do not disappoint him.” The others complied without question, as was their programming. They were now within 2 kilometers to their targets, Gauss cannon and aerodynamic concussion missiles emerged from their compartments, the hunt was on…
“Icru, keep those demonic bastards off our tail.” The Segundo stammered with hesitation. The gunship was only 3K Kilometers from his target, only a little longer… Just as he was thinking a synthesized rang over the comline,
“Feral Hrethgir, prepare to be exterminated. In the name of the Evermind, I shall vanquish you.”
The pilots were surprised by this machine’s audacity, most machines weren’t independent, and aside from a few, that left only one explanation. Cymek. A human traitor to the machines. A disembodied brain with a machine body. “Come and get it, coward.” The second Kindjal pilot threatened.
“Then you shall find the tranquility of death.” The Neo retorted, with a lingering on Death.
Ordos was a nervous wreck; his perspiration fogged his helmet’s faceplate, “K-keep them off us.” He stammered.
“Will do.”
The Kindjals readied their weapons, and activated their Holtzman shields, they then broke away to engage the machine ships. As the Human fighters careened towards the interceptors, the machines let loose a volley of missiles. The lead Kindjal pilot’s eyes dilated, “INCOMING!” he screamed over the intercom, but alas it was too late, one fighter was hit directly and vaporized instantly, the other missiles missed, while frazzling the pilots. They pulled the triggers on their sticks, but the only response was a click, they had forgotten that concussion missiles will disrupt electrical weapon systems. At first the lead pilot was terrified, then he realized what he must do, “Boa two… accelerate to ramming speed.” he uttered flatly. Ordos, upon hearing this was, to say the least, distressed.
“WHAT?!? We need you back here!” But determined to give their lives for the Jihad, the Kindjal pilots flew onwards increasing airspeed as they went.
“Yes, you do need us,” admitted the Kindjal leader, “but all of humanity needs you. For Serena Butler and Manion the Innocent!” Just as he finished, his Kindjal careened into an interceptor, destroying both ships and pilots. The second followed suit, but took two with her.
The pilot of the gunship gripped his flightstick tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping the machines at bay. “They’re on us!” announced Icru through the com system.
The Gauss cannon of the interceptors started belching molten lead at the gunship as it narrowly dodged the projectiles. The tail chaingun started to spin slowly then faster and faster until you couldn’t see the barrels any more, only a blur. Then it started firing, you didn’t hear separate shots, only a single continuous noise. Icru had to make his shots count, for he only had so much ammunition. He precisely hit three to detonate, and two more to go down, just as he was on his sixth, a gauss round took off his head. As Duaden felt the craft shutter he yelled to Icru, “Keep ‘em off our ‘six!” After several minutes with no response Duaden changed his Radar to visual for the rear gun position, and what he saw nearly made him sick. The inside of the cockpit was splattered with blood and gore, as he looked at Icru’s body the head and neck were completely blown-off, all that remained was a stump of spewing gore with his spine sticking out. He quickly switched it to targeting and concentrated on the mission at hand.
The Neo-Cymek Nerevar was eerily pleased, he had crippled the enemy gunship and now he was moving in for the coup de grâce.
The Segundo moved even trickier than ever, since he had no covering fire he had only his wits for defense. The Machine city loomed in front of him, the glittering towers; the sheer size of it was enough to make you stop and look. He primed the atomics, but set the delay for one minute. He didn’t think he’d live through this, he wasn’t expected to. As he came closer and closer to the city his mind started to chant as they did at his dispatch, Ser-e-na! Ser-e-na! Ser-a-na! …
At the ceremony on Salusa Secundus, he was one of the hand-picked pilots to be sent on a suicide atomic attack on main Synchronized world. He and the others stood before the Priestess of the Jihad, Serena Butler herself! He stood, shoulders squared and his chest thrust forward, as he accept one of the highest medals a soldier of the Army of the Jihad could receive, Serena’s Star, a symbol of great sacrifice, so by giving his life to the Jihad he had all three ribbons bestowed on the medal. The third, no living man or woman wore. It was for truly giving your life. The ultimate sacrifice a soldier could make. The Priestess then broke into tears, and after pinning one of these medals on each of the men and women, threw her arms around each one with vigor. “My brave fighting Jihadiis!” she called them. And when she came to him, he remained stoic, steely faced and devoted to the cause. It brought a tear to his eye.
He shook his head in an attempt to get the chanting out of his head. He came ever closer to his target… 500 Kilometers… 400 Kilometers… 300 Kilometers… His ship lurched, another cannon hit, she couldn’t take much more. The interceptors swarmed behind him, more desperate than ever to get him out of the sky. He armed the atomic; Even if they do shoot me down I will still succeed. Just as he was over the target and was about to drop the payload, images flashed before his eyes with every heartbeat; the explosion, the slaves being eradicated, the death. He then flipped the switch, and the nightmare fell to the ground.
Nerevar’s ship lurched in fear of the weapon that Hrethgir just dropped. He gave the order to pull away and into orbit for his flight. They would regroup with the Omnius battle fleet on the other side of the system. This human would pay, whatever the cost, Nerevar swore to it.
Once his gunship had dropped the atomic he jerked the control streak back as hard as he could until he was vertical. He then pushed the throttle to full power, hoping he would outrun the blast. I just might make it. He thought to himself as he was ascending through the Ionosphere, he then just remembered the Cymek and swiveled his head around like a madman, but there was no sign of them. Just then his ship lurched incredibly, then a miniature sun was behind him. The one minute had elapsed; he had to make it to the fleet. As his ship passed through the final reaches of the atmosphere, he barely escaped the ICBW he was carrying.
As Ordos’ ship neared the human fleet, they readied their weapons, considering he was not to survive his previous mission, a suicide Jihadii. They transmitted a demand to the wounded gunship, “Identify yourself, and give your name, rank, objective, baseship and Squadron number.”
Ordos was experiencing a mixture of extreme relief, and thrill to hear another human voice over the comline, especially a female one. “This is Segundo Class two Ordos, Duaden. Of the Ballista, Harpax. 42nd Escadrillia. My last objective was to drop an Inter-Continental Ballistic Warhead on the main city grid of the planet IV Draconis.”
There was an awkward silence for about fifteen seconds, and then a response cackled over the comline, “Copy that, proceed to bay 6, we have some people who wish to speak with you, welcome back.” He complied without question, seeing as how he isn’t supposed to be alive.
“What?!?” was the only answer the commanding Primero could provide. He was amazed, no; astonished that someone could survive that.
“You know we will have to interrogate him, sir?” the messenger chided.
“Yes, yes of course, but if this is true and he is Segundo Ordos, all of the finest food and drink will be on me for the week.” The Primero then rushed down to the hanger bays, after about a quarter of an hour of jogging he arrived just in time to witness the gunship land…
So ends Chapter one, of Living Martyrs
By: DLR001
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Post by Phoenix on Jan 4, 2008 19:27:11 GMT -5
Better, DLR. But also, try splitting any and all paragraphs with action in them.
EX:
The Kindjals readied their weapons, and activated their Holtzman shields, they then broke away to engage the machine ships. As the Human fighters careened towards the interceptors, the machines let loose a volley of missiles. The lead Kindjal pilot’s eyes dilated, “INCOMING!” he screamed over the intercom, but alas it was too late, one fighter was hit directly and vaporized instantly, the other missiles missed, while frazzling the pilots. They pulled the triggers on their sticks, but the only response was a click, they had forgotten that concussion missiles will disrupt electrical weapon systems. At first the lead pilot was terrified, then he realized what he must do.*
“Boa two… accelerate to ramming speed.” he uttered flatly. Ordos, upon hearing this was, to say the least, distressed.
“WHAT?!? We need you back here!” But determined to give their lives for the Jihad, the Kindjal pilots flew onwards increasing airspeed as they went.
“Yes, you do need us,” admitted the Kindjal leader, “but all of humanity needs you. For Serena Butler and Manion the Innocent!” Just as he finished, his Kindjal careened into an interceptor, destroying both ships and pilots. The second followed suit, but took two with her.
The pilot of the gunship gripped his flightstick tightly, as if it was the only thing keeping the machines at bay. “They’re on us!” announced Icru through the com system.
The Gauss cannon of the interceptors started belching molten lead at the gunship as it narrowly dodged the projectiles. The tail chaingun started to spin slowly then faster and faster until you couldn’t see the barrels any more, only a blur. Then it started firing, you didn’t hear separate shots, only a single continuous noise. Icru had to make his shots count, for he only had so much ammunition. He precisely hit three to detonate, and two more to go down, just as he was on his sixth, a gauss round took off his head.
As Duaden felt the craft shutter he yelled to Icru, “Keep ‘em off our ‘six!” After several minutes with no response Duaden changed his Radar to visual for the rear gun position, and what he saw nearly made him sick. The inside of the cockpit was splattered with blood and gore, as he looked at Icru’s body the head and neck were completely blown-off, all that remained was a stump of spewing gore with his spine sticking out. He quickly switched it to targeting and concentrated on the mission at hand.
**Make sure that you use the proper punctuation. :-)
Now, Isn't that WAY easier to read?
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Post by Xavier Harkonnen on Jan 4, 2008 19:30:19 GMT -5
I see, so put a line of space imbetween paragraphs?
Thanks. ;D
I really appreciate the help.
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Post by Phoenix on Jan 4, 2008 19:35:44 GMT -5
Yep. That way, your reader doesn't get lost in one extremely long paragraph of action and Dialogue.
I had the same problem when I started writing..xD
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[A:3]
