Post by 0darkblade0 on May 26, 2006 0:05:42 GMT -5
This is one that I've been working on as a school assignment, thought I'd post it here:
CHRONICLES OF MALUS DARKBLADE
The Death of Earth
In the blackest depths of space, a war is in progress. A war on a thousand fronts, a war that is tearing the galaxy apart, piece by shattered smouldering piece. It is the year 2853. Earth still exists, but overpopulation has forced it’s people to migrate to other planets, some as inhospitable and barren as the moon was, before it became a military capital. Things were going well- until a colony moving to a newly discovered planet were annihilated by an unknown force. A whole Battle-fleet was sent to investigate, and were almost wiped out by a mysterious fleet of battleships that effortlessly destroyed the human ships.
Survivors said that the ships looked like giant, flying insects.
This was to be humanities first encounter with the ‘Hive’ a collection of creatures united in one purpose, to devour and destroy everything they encounter. These creatures are known by us as ‘bugs’ and for a good reason: First, they LOOK like bugs, Second, they ACT like bugs, and third, for as far as we can tell, they ARE bugs. This would have been just fine if they were not big enough to rip a grown man to shreds and somehow smart enough to do so with tactics and efficiency. They are capable of wiping us out, and, unfortunately, they are committed to that very act.
They strike without warning and kill or destroy everything they see before disappearing as quickly as they arrive. They take no prisoners and feel no pity or remorse. And what they leave in their wake is devastation, desperation and no survivors.
No-one knows just what they are, why they want to kill us so badly, and where they come from, we don’t even know if they have a home planet.
Forget whatever you believe about the future; forget about technological advance and amazing new inventions, as so much has been lost, never to be re-learned.
Forget whatever thoughts you had about peace and harmony, for in this galaxy, there is only room for war, and we are the weak link.
Slowly, planet by planet, humanity is being wiped off the map.
In the midnight black sea of space, in the middle of nowhere, the deep space recon centres where the first line of defence, eternally on guard, ready to warn humanity, to let them know of any threats before they reached the borders of humanity’s empire. They floated in space, constantly sending out signals and scanning the space for any presence of threats.
The only weakness in these installations, however, was that they relied on the crew to constantly monitor the screens and alert the rest of the empire of any danger.
Most of the crews, however, had better things to do.
Colonial Marine Hans Jessen was one such person, and at the moment he was relaxing in a large leather chair. He had his feet propped up on one of the keyboards that dominated the front end of the desks that surrounded the small room. He was sitting in one of the space stations many monitor rooms. The monitor rooms were full high-tech computer readouts and screens, where the results of the many scans conducted by the reconnaissance space station were shown on the many computer screens that dominated most of the room. Most of the screens showed an endless stream of code, while others were like the ancient radar screens. And monitoring those screens was without a single doubt…. boring. This space station was one of many, a giant monstrosity festooned with cannons and antennas; it was, without a doubt, top of the line. And guarding these stations was by no means the safest job that a Colonial Marine could aspire to, with the chance of meteors smashing the station into a pulp and the omnipresent threat of the Hive. But someone had to do it. And so Hans was sitting in front of the computer screens that scanned the area to the left of the ship, watching one of the screens intently and biting his lip. The screen he was watching was not one of the readouts however, it was a television screen.
He was supposed to constantly monitor the screens, intently searching for any signals that could mean an enemy presence. Instead of doing this, Hans was staring into the screen of a rather old television, one of the older ‘plasma screen’ models. He was watching a football game, the Earth Grand Tournament Final; it was the Australian Tigers against the American Eagles. The Tigers were down by 34 points and Hans had bet all of his money on the Tigers. Needless to say, he was a little bit upset.
Hans growled angrily as the Eagles scored yet another goal and stood to his feet, walking quickly from the small room he was sitting in and making his way through the crowded and dark corridors, heading in the general direction of the fridge where the beers were kept. At this rate, Hans knew that he was going to need a few beers to get through this. Hans Jessen hailed from earth; he had grown up in the country known as Australia, one of only 2 continents that remained. He was extremely tall for someone who was in their early 30s and had served in the Australian Army for 8 years before the war started, when he was drafted into the Colonial Marines and put on guard duty on the station. He wiped his oil-caked hands on his grubby yellow tunic, staining the filthy clothes even more than they already were. There’d been an oil leak earlier that day, an oil leak that had taken Hans the whole day to fix. And now he was soaked in oil, wondering why the hell he’d taken this job in the first place. His brown hair was about as filthy and oil-soaked as the rest of him was, as was his beard. He decided that he would take a shower after the game finished, but not before then. When he finally reached the kitchen, the computer monitors that he’d carelessly forgotten to oversee picked up a signal, new data streaming down the screen. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was a huge signal. Something gigantic was heading towards the station. While Hans was opening the door of one of the fridges and grabbing a beer carton, the computer’s AI automatically sent a request for the monthly password to be sent, so that the stations’ crew knew that whatever was coming was friendly, a member of the empire. No such password was sent back to the station.
Hans returned to the room and did not even glance at the monitors, instead sitting down in front of the old TV and opening up the beer carton, taking out a can of Tooheys Red and gulping down the alcohol greedily. If he’d been watching the screen the he should have been watching, he would have seen the signal, and then protocol dictated that he would immediately hit the alarm button and send a distress signal on every frequency.
In theory, this defence system was flawless, the automated weapons on the station would start firing the moment that the alarm button was hit, and reinforcements would arrive in an instant. The only problem was that the system relied on the guy monitoring the screens.
If Hans had been watching, then he would have sent the signal and chances were, that everything would have happened differently. Instead, he drank his beer and watched the footy game intently.
* * *
4 HOURS LATER
Hans found himself sitting at the end of his small steel bed, flicking through all of the paper notes he was holding. He didn’t need to count them to know that they were more than enough to pay for his debt. The Tigers had made a comeback and won the game by a mere 2 points. Hans had made a fortune. He crossed the room and stood in front of his bookshelf. It was full of medical how to books and military manuals, as well as one thick book that was devoted entirely to the Lahrimans Disease, a rare condition that slowly and excruciatingly attacked your internal organs. There was a cure, but it cost more than anyone could afford. He glanced at that book and walked over to the small desk by his bed and picked up a small photo that was protected in a small titanium frame, it was propped up against the wall of the room. Hans picked it up and stared at it. The photo was a picture of him just before the war. He was standing next to an attractive young woman, who was holding the hand of a boy of about 4 years. He walked to the end of the bed and sat there holding the photo in one hand and the money in the other. Hans was staring numbly at the photo when he heard an odd clicking sound, like something scuttling across the metal floor. He immediately got to his feet and slowly opened the door and looked outside. The corridor was completely empty. Hans took another look; the dark dimly lit corridors were completely bereft of any life whatsoever. Hans eventually decided that it must have been his imagination and started to close the door. Then he heard a scream, a bloodcurdling cry of sheer unadulterated pain and fear. He heard the scream another 2 times, the last a sustained howl of agony. ‘What the hell was that?’ He wondered. The screams sounded like they had come from somewhere down the corridor to his left. Hans ran towards where he’d heard the scream and stopped when he came to a small crossroads in the facility. There was a large pool of blood on the steel floor. ‘*c'jit*…this is not good…not good at al!’ Hans thought with a healthy amount of fear. He looked around and noticed that there was a blood trail snaking towards the mess hall. Hans made sure that his pistol was secure in its holster and slowly followed the trail of blood, a feeling of foreboding taking hold with every step he took. Eventually, the trail of blood turned and led through a door, which was slightly ajar. Hans looked at the sign above the door. It read: SERGEANTS MESS. Hans knew that he was not supposed to enter the sergeants’ mess for any reason, but curiosity got the bettor of him and he opened the door.
He was greeted by the sight of what looked like an abattoir, with blood and miscellaneous body parts everywhere. Hans could not even recognize the bodies, or what was left of them. Most had been picked clean, their flesh and eyes conspicuous in their absence, all that was left were random organs and shattered bones. It looked as if something had simply slaughtered everything and then feasted on their dying flesh. When Hans looked into the corner, he found exactly what had made this abattoir in the first place too. He spotted a large creature that seemed to him a bit like a giant, armoured insect from hell. It was completely black and covered by an exoskeleton that made it look like it was wearing a suit of armour. It stood on four legs and had gigantic wings that were shaped like a bats, but they had the colour and look of an insect’s wing. It had a huge head that was not too dissimilar to that of an eagle’s, if you ignore the fact that instead of feathers it has the same exoskeleton armour. It had a hooked beak no too dissimilar to that of an Eagle, and had eyes that burned with intelligence, as well as a hunger that would never be extinguished. Its long thick legs ended in huge deadly-looking talons, and it had a tail that was hidden completely under the blades that covered it, which made a clicking noise when the tail was twitched. It was in the process of ripping random chunks of flesh from the body it as clutching and swallowing them whole.
‘Oh…*c'jit*!’ Hans thought with a definite terror. The thing looked up and saw Hans and roared loudly, before dropping the body it was holding and pouncing at him. Hans quickly closed the door and ran, sheer terror giving him the speed that he needed. Hans sprinted for his life, all of his thoughts reduced to the simple need to escape. He stumbled through the corridors and halls, always aware that the thing was just seconds behind him. Hans dared to look back for a second at the thing and sure enough, it was after him. Then Hans slipped and fell, landing heavily on the steel floor, and slipping on the pool of blood as he tried to get up. He turned and saw the creature standing over him, shrieking in victory as it raised a huge talon……
Then the thing lost its balance and slipped on the blood, its talon missing Hans’s head and ripping through his shoulder. Han managed to stumble to his feet and ran. Eventually, he found himself in the small monitor room that he’d watched the game in and quickly slammed the door shut ‘Oh god….what was that thing” He thought feverishly as he grabbed the rifle that was propped up in the corner. ‘Well, if this ugly moth
er *pauk*er wants a fight, then he got one.’ Hans thought with bravado that he didn’t feel. No sooner had he made sure it was loaded the doors were slammed clean off their hinges and fell to the floor with a loud THUD! The creature walked in, howling a chilling battle-cry as it did so. Hans immediately started firing the rifle. He fired one bullet, and another, and another. The bullets ricocheting uselessly off the gigantic creatures natural armour, the bullets ricocheting around the room. The creature roared and swung a gigantic talon at Hans.
Hans screamed as the talons ripped through his face, and screamed again as he lost sight in his right eye. Hans tried to concentrate through the pain and stared up at the creature that was again standing over him. “I’m not dead yet you Ugly son of a BITCH!” He shouted, and summoning his
courage, he shot at the creature one last time. The bullets ripped through the creature’s eye and the explosive shells detonated loudly. The thing roared in surprise and pain and Hans seized the opportunity, and dived for the door.
He barely made it, landing heavily on the other side of the destroyed doors and throwing the rifle in the opposite direction than where he wanted to go and hiding behind one of the doors. The thing raced down the hall in the direction that he’d thrown the rifle. Sighing in ill-disguised relief, Hans slowly walked towards the grille that led into the ventilation shaft. If he could make it there, then he could find somewhere to hide until help came….
CHRONICLES OF MALUS DARKBLADE
The Death of Earth
In the blackest depths of space, a war is in progress. A war on a thousand fronts, a war that is tearing the galaxy apart, piece by shattered smouldering piece. It is the year 2853. Earth still exists, but overpopulation has forced it’s people to migrate to other planets, some as inhospitable and barren as the moon was, before it became a military capital. Things were going well- until a colony moving to a newly discovered planet were annihilated by an unknown force. A whole Battle-fleet was sent to investigate, and were almost wiped out by a mysterious fleet of battleships that effortlessly destroyed the human ships.
Survivors said that the ships looked like giant, flying insects.
This was to be humanities first encounter with the ‘Hive’ a collection of creatures united in one purpose, to devour and destroy everything they encounter. These creatures are known by us as ‘bugs’ and for a good reason: First, they LOOK like bugs, Second, they ACT like bugs, and third, for as far as we can tell, they ARE bugs. This would have been just fine if they were not big enough to rip a grown man to shreds and somehow smart enough to do so with tactics and efficiency. They are capable of wiping us out, and, unfortunately, they are committed to that very act.
They strike without warning and kill or destroy everything they see before disappearing as quickly as they arrive. They take no prisoners and feel no pity or remorse. And what they leave in their wake is devastation, desperation and no survivors.
No-one knows just what they are, why they want to kill us so badly, and where they come from, we don’t even know if they have a home planet.
Forget whatever you believe about the future; forget about technological advance and amazing new inventions, as so much has been lost, never to be re-learned.
Forget whatever thoughts you had about peace and harmony, for in this galaxy, there is only room for war, and we are the weak link.
Slowly, planet by planet, humanity is being wiped off the map.
In the midnight black sea of space, in the middle of nowhere, the deep space recon centres where the first line of defence, eternally on guard, ready to warn humanity, to let them know of any threats before they reached the borders of humanity’s empire. They floated in space, constantly sending out signals and scanning the space for any presence of threats.
The only weakness in these installations, however, was that they relied on the crew to constantly monitor the screens and alert the rest of the empire of any danger.
Most of the crews, however, had better things to do.
Colonial Marine Hans Jessen was one such person, and at the moment he was relaxing in a large leather chair. He had his feet propped up on one of the keyboards that dominated the front end of the desks that surrounded the small room. He was sitting in one of the space stations many monitor rooms. The monitor rooms were full high-tech computer readouts and screens, where the results of the many scans conducted by the reconnaissance space station were shown on the many computer screens that dominated most of the room. Most of the screens showed an endless stream of code, while others were like the ancient radar screens. And monitoring those screens was without a single doubt…. boring. This space station was one of many, a giant monstrosity festooned with cannons and antennas; it was, without a doubt, top of the line. And guarding these stations was by no means the safest job that a Colonial Marine could aspire to, with the chance of meteors smashing the station into a pulp and the omnipresent threat of the Hive. But someone had to do it. And so Hans was sitting in front of the computer screens that scanned the area to the left of the ship, watching one of the screens intently and biting his lip. The screen he was watching was not one of the readouts however, it was a television screen.
He was supposed to constantly monitor the screens, intently searching for any signals that could mean an enemy presence. Instead of doing this, Hans was staring into the screen of a rather old television, one of the older ‘plasma screen’ models. He was watching a football game, the Earth Grand Tournament Final; it was the Australian Tigers against the American Eagles. The Tigers were down by 34 points and Hans had bet all of his money on the Tigers. Needless to say, he was a little bit upset.
Hans growled angrily as the Eagles scored yet another goal and stood to his feet, walking quickly from the small room he was sitting in and making his way through the crowded and dark corridors, heading in the general direction of the fridge where the beers were kept. At this rate, Hans knew that he was going to need a few beers to get through this. Hans Jessen hailed from earth; he had grown up in the country known as Australia, one of only 2 continents that remained. He was extremely tall for someone who was in their early 30s and had served in the Australian Army for 8 years before the war started, when he was drafted into the Colonial Marines and put on guard duty on the station. He wiped his oil-caked hands on his grubby yellow tunic, staining the filthy clothes even more than they already were. There’d been an oil leak earlier that day, an oil leak that had taken Hans the whole day to fix. And now he was soaked in oil, wondering why the hell he’d taken this job in the first place. His brown hair was about as filthy and oil-soaked as the rest of him was, as was his beard. He decided that he would take a shower after the game finished, but not before then. When he finally reached the kitchen, the computer monitors that he’d carelessly forgotten to oversee picked up a signal, new data streaming down the screen. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was a huge signal. Something gigantic was heading towards the station. While Hans was opening the door of one of the fridges and grabbing a beer carton, the computer’s AI automatically sent a request for the monthly password to be sent, so that the stations’ crew knew that whatever was coming was friendly, a member of the empire. No such password was sent back to the station.
Hans returned to the room and did not even glance at the monitors, instead sitting down in front of the old TV and opening up the beer carton, taking out a can of Tooheys Red and gulping down the alcohol greedily. If he’d been watching the screen the he should have been watching, he would have seen the signal, and then protocol dictated that he would immediately hit the alarm button and send a distress signal on every frequency.
In theory, this defence system was flawless, the automated weapons on the station would start firing the moment that the alarm button was hit, and reinforcements would arrive in an instant. The only problem was that the system relied on the guy monitoring the screens.
If Hans had been watching, then he would have sent the signal and chances were, that everything would have happened differently. Instead, he drank his beer and watched the footy game intently.
* * *
4 HOURS LATER
Hans found himself sitting at the end of his small steel bed, flicking through all of the paper notes he was holding. He didn’t need to count them to know that they were more than enough to pay for his debt. The Tigers had made a comeback and won the game by a mere 2 points. Hans had made a fortune. He crossed the room and stood in front of his bookshelf. It was full of medical how to books and military manuals, as well as one thick book that was devoted entirely to the Lahrimans Disease, a rare condition that slowly and excruciatingly attacked your internal organs. There was a cure, but it cost more than anyone could afford. He glanced at that book and walked over to the small desk by his bed and picked up a small photo that was protected in a small titanium frame, it was propped up against the wall of the room. Hans picked it up and stared at it. The photo was a picture of him just before the war. He was standing next to an attractive young woman, who was holding the hand of a boy of about 4 years. He walked to the end of the bed and sat there holding the photo in one hand and the money in the other. Hans was staring numbly at the photo when he heard an odd clicking sound, like something scuttling across the metal floor. He immediately got to his feet and slowly opened the door and looked outside. The corridor was completely empty. Hans took another look; the dark dimly lit corridors were completely bereft of any life whatsoever. Hans eventually decided that it must have been his imagination and started to close the door. Then he heard a scream, a bloodcurdling cry of sheer unadulterated pain and fear. He heard the scream another 2 times, the last a sustained howl of agony. ‘What the hell was that?’ He wondered. The screams sounded like they had come from somewhere down the corridor to his left. Hans ran towards where he’d heard the scream and stopped when he came to a small crossroads in the facility. There was a large pool of blood on the steel floor. ‘*c'jit*…this is not good…not good at al!’ Hans thought with a healthy amount of fear. He looked around and noticed that there was a blood trail snaking towards the mess hall. Hans made sure that his pistol was secure in its holster and slowly followed the trail of blood, a feeling of foreboding taking hold with every step he took. Eventually, the trail of blood turned and led through a door, which was slightly ajar. Hans looked at the sign above the door. It read: SERGEANTS MESS. Hans knew that he was not supposed to enter the sergeants’ mess for any reason, but curiosity got the bettor of him and he opened the door.
He was greeted by the sight of what looked like an abattoir, with blood and miscellaneous body parts everywhere. Hans could not even recognize the bodies, or what was left of them. Most had been picked clean, their flesh and eyes conspicuous in their absence, all that was left were random organs and shattered bones. It looked as if something had simply slaughtered everything and then feasted on their dying flesh. When Hans looked into the corner, he found exactly what had made this abattoir in the first place too. He spotted a large creature that seemed to him a bit like a giant, armoured insect from hell. It was completely black and covered by an exoskeleton that made it look like it was wearing a suit of armour. It stood on four legs and had gigantic wings that were shaped like a bats, but they had the colour and look of an insect’s wing. It had a huge head that was not too dissimilar to that of an eagle’s, if you ignore the fact that instead of feathers it has the same exoskeleton armour. It had a hooked beak no too dissimilar to that of an Eagle, and had eyes that burned with intelligence, as well as a hunger that would never be extinguished. Its long thick legs ended in huge deadly-looking talons, and it had a tail that was hidden completely under the blades that covered it, which made a clicking noise when the tail was twitched. It was in the process of ripping random chunks of flesh from the body it as clutching and swallowing them whole.
‘Oh…*c'jit*!’ Hans thought with a definite terror. The thing looked up and saw Hans and roared loudly, before dropping the body it was holding and pouncing at him. Hans quickly closed the door and ran, sheer terror giving him the speed that he needed. Hans sprinted for his life, all of his thoughts reduced to the simple need to escape. He stumbled through the corridors and halls, always aware that the thing was just seconds behind him. Hans dared to look back for a second at the thing and sure enough, it was after him. Then Hans slipped and fell, landing heavily on the steel floor, and slipping on the pool of blood as he tried to get up. He turned and saw the creature standing over him, shrieking in victory as it raised a huge talon……
Then the thing lost its balance and slipped on the blood, its talon missing Hans’s head and ripping through his shoulder. Han managed to stumble to his feet and ran. Eventually, he found himself in the small monitor room that he’d watched the game in and quickly slammed the door shut ‘Oh god….what was that thing” He thought feverishly as he grabbed the rifle that was propped up in the corner. ‘Well, if this ugly moth
er *pauk*er wants a fight, then he got one.’ Hans thought with bravado that he didn’t feel. No sooner had he made sure it was loaded the doors were slammed clean off their hinges and fell to the floor with a loud THUD! The creature walked in, howling a chilling battle-cry as it did so. Hans immediately started firing the rifle. He fired one bullet, and another, and another. The bullets ricocheting uselessly off the gigantic creatures natural armour, the bullets ricocheting around the room. The creature roared and swung a gigantic talon at Hans.
Hans screamed as the talons ripped through his face, and screamed again as he lost sight in his right eye. Hans tried to concentrate through the pain and stared up at the creature that was again standing over him. “I’m not dead yet you Ugly son of a BITCH!” He shouted, and summoning his
courage, he shot at the creature one last time. The bullets ripped through the creature’s eye and the explosive shells detonated loudly. The thing roared in surprise and pain and Hans seized the opportunity, and dived for the door.
He barely made it, landing heavily on the other side of the destroyed doors and throwing the rifle in the opposite direction than where he wanted to go and hiding behind one of the doors. The thing raced down the hall in the direction that he’d thrown the rifle. Sighing in ill-disguised relief, Hans slowly walked towards the grille that led into the ventilation shaft. If he could make it there, then he could find somewhere to hide until help came….
