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Rise: Tales of the Verse

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#21 Halcyon



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Posted 22 October 2012 - 11:54 AM

ANYTHING can create a story. :P

I mean, come on, Clyde became an interesting character and a memetic badass (and sex god, seriously these nights on Google Docs were a psychologist's field trip) by being conceived as boring. Anything can be written. :P

ugh, I remember those heinous conversations.

I don't! And I probably don't want to. :blink:

Edited by Halicon, 22 October 2012 - 11:55 AM.

#22 miragefla



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Posted 22 October 2012 - 12:10 PM

ugh, I remember those heinous conversations.

I blame unknown, it's always unknown. :P

Also, Akira, add me to the list, please and thank you.
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#23 The unknown

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Posted 23 October 2012 - 07:42 AM

I blame unknown, it's always unknown. :P

And proud of it ! :D Though it's always Skorp who took the blame. CORNER.

I don't! And I probably don't want to. :blink:

We just theorized that, because of Rise 2's end with Krystal's crush on Clyde, by Rise 3 every female characters would have a crush on Clyde. And that Clyde can do anything with a straight face. ANYTHING.

#24 The Arbiter

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Posted 29 October 2012 - 12:35 AM

Chapter 3



#25 Burngirl


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Posted 04 November 2012 - 05:30 AM

Trapped Tears


Edited by Burngirl, 04 November 2012 - 05:32 AM.

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#26 Klaykid


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Posted 12 November 2012 - 06:55 AM

Tales from Camp Bullis!

Abraham and his fellow troopers, new to the 32nd Ossyrian Mechanized Infantry, had absolutely no clue as to the standards which they would be held. Despite it being a section of the Ossyrian Special Operations command, it is a relatively small section and is usually mentioned with the army instead of Special Warfare (SpecWar). It was a Sunday, so there wasn't anything to do. The troopers all busied themselves with something productive, cleaning weapons, checking lockers, shinning boots, anything but sleeping. Abraham sat on his bunk, oiling his weapon when he notices that one of the troopers is under his bunk pretending to tighten the sheets, when in actuality, the man is sleeping. Drill Sergeant Dennis comes storming in and promptly grabs the private by his ankles, drags the sorry SOB out from under the bunk, and proceeded to gut punch the man. This woke him up good.

"Get up private!" yelled the DS in all of his ferocity. Even Gettner, himself, would find his testicles shrivel from hearing the man's war call.

The private attempted to get up immediately from a devastating blow to his stomach, but the DS proceeded to push him down to the floor.

"I said get up private!"

The man attempted to get up again, but was too slow in his efforts. This set the DS off.

"Get your sorry ass down and BEAT YOUR FACE."

The private proceeded to go into the front leaning rest while the DS continues to yell at him.

"If I ever see you napping again I will Kermit the Frog over this bay and punch a hole in your soul!"

This was the start of a series of threats from DS Dennis throughout the course of SpecWar basic. In fact, the next day DS Dennis yelled from across the mess hall to the same private who was watching the holographic television, "PRIVATE NUMBNUTS, if I even sense that you are absorbing sound from that holoscreen, I WILL PETER PAN ACROSS THE DFAC and CHEST KICK YOU."


#27 Ryoma


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Posted 12 November 2012 - 06:55 PM


A Letter Back Home

Good Morning Mother and Father,

I hope this letter finds you both well and in high spirits. I realize that you probably never expected to hear from me again, and to be honest, I never expected myself to be writing to you. But, as time goes on, the mind matures and petty arguments and past disagreements seem to be exactly that, petty and in the past. And while I know Father is far too stubborn to break the ice, I decide to try my hand at it. Rest assured, should this letter inspire only negative feelings, it shall be the last you hear of me.

I am doing well. Very, very well. When was the last time we spoke? Oh, goodness, even I am not sure. How sad is that? And I mean that very sincerely. When one cannot recall the last conversation one had with his parents, what does that say for society? Father is likely rolling his eyes right now, and Mother is trying to calm him down. Very well.

I’ve been through a harrowing ordeal. There really is no other word to describe. In my ignorance I thought I was ready to enter a deadly fray. I was wrong. But do you know what, Mother? Father? I survived. I made it through. And emerged a new man because of it. I fought alongside great comrades, made some wonderful friends, learned some lessons along the way, and became the better person because of it.

I met the most wonderful woman.

Has Kara talked to you recently? She has been down to my humble abode once or twice. No matter, I shall assume she hasn’t. During the end of my ordeal, I met a wonderful woman by the name of Alliana Mikalovich. We met on the battlefield, and forged our friendship through that. But, I was in a dark place at that time. I had suffered a grievous injury, and I was fighting a losing battle with despair.

But, do you know what? Alliana saved me. She took me by the hand, quite literally, and pulling me from my abyss. She brought back to reality. She, in a word, saved me.

I am almost certain you’ll hate her.

She has a brilliant mind, much like my own. But, somehow, even more scatterbrained at times. Her mind works far faster than a normal person’s, especially when it comes to mechanical things. She once made a rocket out of cooking utensils. She is forever tinkering away on some device or another, working on my mechanical legs (Did Kara inform you?) or attempting to better some device that does not need to be bettered. But, she is a sight to behold. When she grabs a wrench, her eyes light up. Her attention is focused 100% on her project, and she barely seems to notice others until the device is finished. I have learned, the hard way I might add, to stay out of her way.

And I’m happier than I ever have been.

We have a young son, Brayden, now five years old. He has my best traits and those of his mother. He’s curious to a fault, learning about anything he can get his hands on. He enjoys taking things apart, and putting them back together. For Christmas last year, we got him a small toolset. He cherishes it more than anything else in his possession.

I’m proud of him. Proud of who he is, and I just know that I will be proud of who he becomes. He’s a handful sometimes, but he’s always a joy. He has his mother’s big, eager eyes.

You might have seen in the bookstores lately that I have made my dream a reality. Not only have I been published, but my book is a best seller. Rise, as I have chosen to call it, is the story of my ordeal. It’s technically non-fiction, but I do add small details to spice things up. I do hope you’ve managed to pick up a copy, and read it for yourself. I am proud of the final result.

And yes, I fully intend to make you buy the book.

I also have friends. This part may be hard to believe for you, (I am still coming to terms with it myself, haha! (that was a joke)), but it is the honest truth. I have some of the most wonderful friends I could ask for. In the book, I mention my machine, Guildenstern. That section is completely true. Guild is a machine with a heart of gold. He and I still spend time together, talking about this or that, and just enjoying each other’s company. If Alliana saved me from the abyss, Guild saved me from a literal knife through the heart. I am eternally grateful to him, and cherish him deeply.

He’s been having some difficult times lately. Time for him is a completely different concept than for you or I. I have aged since he last knew me. Not much, a few years, but it is noticeable. And it’s starting to wear on him. I think his mind is thinking more and more about mortality. I know that this thought has troubled him before, but now he seems sad. I do my best to cheer him up, but…

I’m sorry, I did not mean to go off on a tangent there. I’ll move on.

Guild has a nephew. Or a son. Or whatever. Horatio. Horatio is technically an identical machine to Guild, AI and all, but has a very different personality. He is, in many ways, like a child. Running about and flying around, smiling happily as he does so. He and Brayden get along wonderfully. One time, Horatio even let Brayden disassemble one of his fingers. Took the poor boy a week to put it back together. I’ve never seen a machine so nervous. It was a happy time.

Now, before you tell me that the only people who could like me are machines, you would be wrong. In addition to the machines (and I do hate using that word), I have met wonderful people as well. The one that I have had most contact with as of late is a certain notorious pirate by the name of Aerion Freeman. You might have heard of him; he’s the Jawhen pirate guy. He stops by fairly often, and calls me regularly. We met around the midpoint of our adventure, but did not get to know each other until far later. In some ways, I feel that I am making up for lost time with his friendship. He is always a character, fun to have around, and Brayden really likes him. Once, Aerion brought a pirate hat for Brayden. It was far too large, but now the boy refuses to take it off. He had such a smile when he put it on his head for the first time…

Something of an enigma is Princess Kanade Orihara. Otherwise known as The Princess. She will forever have a special place in my heart. We met on our adventure, and I…I messed up. I am not sure if she forgave me. But, I do have a means of contacting her, and while she never calls me first, I always get the impression she is happy to hear from me. I am glad for that.

Yvonne Dafoe. She began the process of my change, and is described in great detail in my book. I have no idea where she is now. Neither she nor Haruka have stayed in touch. All I have from Yvonne is a copy of her book. I treasure it.

Oh, look at me. I’m rambling. Guess even my pen has a tendency to scribble on and on. I told myself to keep this letter brief and there I go, reminiscing about my friends. Regardless, I’ll wrap it up.

I’d very much like to invite you both down to our little villa. I’ve attached the formal address to this letter. Alliana would very much like to meet you, and, I’d very much like to introduce you to Brayden. I, also, would like to talk to you again, for it has been so long. I understand if you don’t want to hear from me, of course, but, as I said above, I’d like to at least break the ice.

You know how get in touch with me. I look forward to hearing from you.

Yours truly,
Haken Wastia



If I'm not the smart guy, who am I?



#28 Halcyon



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Posted 22 November 2012 - 12:06 AM

That is a pretty cool story, Ryoma. :) I like letters, and it gives another level of insight in the workings of your character, plus it ties up a few romantic loose-ends/

"Get your sorry ass down and BEAT YOUR FACE."

*gigglesnort* Pun fully intended. ;D

Edited by Halicon, 22 November 2012 - 12:22 AM.

#29 Klaykid


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Posted 01 December 2012 - 12:43 PM


Two children were trapped in a world fueled by their imagination. Two young minds in a world all to themselves limited only by their brainpower. The boy pressed a button on the side of the ship's walls causing the rear panels to close up. Familiar sounds of the pressure seals hissing in the air signaled the depressurization of the ship. With the area in safe atmospheres, the boy and the girl took off their helmets in unison. The boy went to check the inventory of their latest haul while the girl busied herself with sticking a small plastic straw through an apple juice box. Amber fluid ran up the translucent straw into small pink lips, then disappeared in a matter of seconds. The girl casually tossed aside the empty juice receptacle as she glanced out the viewing port.

"How's our latest haul?" she asked.

"Great actually, we barely escaped with out lives, but we made it out with the goods and many fluid boxes."

The girl's crystal blue eyes bounced around the vast emptiness of space, watching the stars flicker their dying light before moving towards the sword at her waist. In a matter of seconds, she brandished an energy blade, pointing the blade straight at her brother. The blue energy blade illuminated the smug look on her face, highlighting her rosy cheeks and her brown hair with a few naturally light streaks of hair running along the bangs. The boy sighed.

"I figured you'd do something like this, Lilith."

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be, Issie. Get in the escape pod and get out of my sight stinky head."

But Isaac was prepared for his sister's eventual betrayal. He unsheathed an energy blade of his own, green in colour. The two siblings seemed to be frozen in time. Their energy weapons casting a colourful glow in the ship illuminating the condescending expressions on their faces, sweat droplets forming on the tips of their brows, and baby teeth gritted. Lilith made the first move.

She made wild horizontal swipes at her brother forcing him backwards in the cramped ship. Most would think Lilith had the advantage, but Lilith is all strength and no skill. Isaac managed to parry all of her swings, the last one causing Lilith to lose her balance. Were it not for her being able to regain her balance quickly, Isaac's lunge would have taken her eye out.

"Watch it Issie! You almost got my eye!"

"Oh, sorry Lily..."

Lilith chuckled as she swiped her brother's legs right from underneath him. Isaac fell straight to the floor, bumping his nose right on the metal paneling. Tears formed at the edges of his eyes as he cradled his bright red nose.

"Owww! Lilith! C'mon!"

"Ha! I am obviously the strong and clever one of the group! You're just the not so awesome and smelly one of the group!"

"Obvious lies coming from papa's favorite."

"Hey, you're the one mama is always hugging!"

"That's cause she likes me more!"

"Take that back!"

Lilith began pinching and pulling Isaac's cheeks. But the two immediately stopped their bickering when they noticed the single eye trained on the both of them from the far end of the ship. One large hazel eye starring at them from the rear viewing port. Two two froze in their tracks.

"Hey! Were ya' two givin' ya' mother grief again?" roared the eye.


"I got it Lilith!"

Isaac combat rolled to the rear of the cabin and pulled a lever opening the port hole long enough for Lilith to poke the eye with the tip of her energy blade. The creature reeled back in pain shouting small obscenities as it went.

"What was that?"

"I dunno, Issie, probably a Mi-go mixed with some sort of... I dunno... tzeenosaur?"

"Oh no! Lilith, brace for impact!"

The creature charged towards the ship hollering, "ya' little shits! I'll get ya' for pokin' my eye!"

The shipped rocked intensely causing the two to drop to the floor, then, the ship began turning. Two two struggled to keep footing, it was as if they were in a tumbling barrel from hell!


To say Autumn Keyes was annoyed at the sudden disappearance of all of her cookies she just baked would be saying a tzeenosaur is satisfied with ten rounds of drinks. Autumn was practically shooting steam our of her ears when her husband entered the house from the front door. She wiped the mess from her hands on her apron and turned to her husband, Abraham Keyes with the you-better-figure-out-that-I'm-mad-and-I-want-you-to-do-something-about-it look. Luckily for Abraham, he is all too familiar with that look. He didn't even set two feet into his house before Autumn was yelling at him.

"Your kids are being rowdy again, they stole all of the cookies I baked for Mr. Valken and his cute daughter!"

"I'll go deal with 'em, honey."

Putting down the paperwork in his hand and slipping off his business jacket, he rolled up his sleeves and wet outside to the backyard where his kids were probably playing.

Minutes later, Autumn finished putting a new batch in the oven and looked out the window to see Abraham rolling around a large cardboard box with one hand, the other hand covering his single eye, and the shouts of terrified children coming from said box. Choosing not to ask and not to think further on the subject, Autumn went to clean up the kitchen. After that was all said and done, she walked outside to see her husband being taken down by two kids holding sticks. It was like watching a tree fall, to say the least. Isaac held one of his legs with Lilith on his shoulder biting his ear. So what did this mother of two children and a wife of a silly man do? She laughed. She laughed so bloody hard, she reeled over holding her stomach in pain.

Abraham, on the other hand, motioned for her to help him. "Isaac's biting my friggin' leg!" he yelled. Moments later, the powerful blast of a garden hose shot the two children off of their father. Abraham sat upwards.

"Don't ya' think use'in the hose is a bit excessive?"

A steady stream of water blasted Abraham in his only eye, sending him back to the ground.

Oh, how fun it is to dream, to pretend, to create a perfect world where anything is possible, where your troubles can disappear with a simple thought, where everything is perfect and right in the universe. But reality is never perfect and the outcome of our choices usually is the ones we never intended to happen.

In the morning, the two siblings will check their mother's room only to find her and just her. With vanished hopes, they return to bed knowing that their father will never come home.


#30 Rickard the Bearded

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Posted 01 December 2012 - 01:50 PM


Klaykid, why do you hate your characters so much? :P


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#31 Aerion


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Posted 01 December 2012 - 09:29 PM

I...I got excited for Abraham.
Then he wasn't there. :(


#32 Rickard the Bearded

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Posted 01 December 2012 - 09:34 PM

I have more feels for his kids.

Don't worry your pink cotton socks about Abraham. He's... Fine. Just fine.


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#33 Burngirl


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Posted 04 December 2012 - 12:54 AM

Reads beautiful story of a happy family. Then ... goes into a corner to cry. Why, Klay!? Why!? It's so heartbreaking and heart wrenching. It reminds me an old cartoon of poor kids who are given a sudden happy day, except yours doesn't end so well.

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#34 Klaykid


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Posted 18 December 2012 - 05:38 PM

The Hunter's Delight
Residential District 17, Novia
120 AF

"Those damn Lost Children."

A fiery haired woman clad in armour sat at a local tavern called The Hunter's Delight. With a drink in one hand and a PDA in the other, The woman busied herself with reading online news articles and the latest forum posts in For Hire, a little message board created by mercenaries and bounty hunters for mercenaries and bounty hunters. A funny little site where the members chit chat about the best places to score some black market armour and weapons, or perhaps the funniest job they have taken up in recent years. Amandine Krystal Desmond scowled a bit at the latest post under the thread "****in Lost Children". And, with no surprise, the thread is pretty much a place where the members vent their hatred for the ever-so-popular private military corporation Lost Children. Were it not for her employment under Binary Domain, Amandine would have been shut out of the Bounty Hunting/Mercenary business for a long time because of them.

Amandine downed her drink in one gulp and twirled her finger in the air for another beer. She flipped through the online pages to S'tcheva's List. It appears someone is selling incredibly rare goods. Goods so rare, there's a bloody auction for the stuff the chick's selling. Really, there is probably one type of black market goods high in quality and rare enough to have a friggin' cue. Ossyrian goods.

Despite being wiped off of the face of the universe in 87 AF, Ossyrian goods are incredibly hard to come by. Usually this is due to the fact that everything was burned to ash and molten metal when the Tyrans literally burned the planet. And now those foolish enough to dive into the irradiated world for goods are either insane or Stalkers (who are insane anyway). It appears that the woman selling these goods has a wide variety of items. Weapons, robotics, parts, paperwork, classic Ossyrian literature (first and second editions), art, hell, even Classic Hayakawa Tech cars. And you don't find those just anywhere. The boss, Mr Corporate Head of Binary Domain, has a few Classic Hayakawa Tech cars in his white walled office. The bastard displays them for all to envy. Then, something caught her eye. The object that has the highest bids. An Ossyrian H.M.V. Usually, the most sought after Ossyrian goods are classic Hayakawa Tech stuff, Ossyrian battlesuits (in fact, the most popular black market Ossyrian items), and H.M.Vs. Weapons aren't really popular and are usually reduced to show pieces since more practical and better quality stuff can be bought in the Northern Federation. Oh yeah, the money maker...

This chick's selling a bloody Ossyrian Regulator H.M.V. How she managed to get all of this crap off world is beyond Amandine.

[!] One New Message

Office of Corporate Affairs

Binary Domain Headquarters, Novia

-Operative Desmond
We have located one of the test subjects that we require. Though intel is very low, we trust you will get the job done. Bring her in alive, we cannot emphasize how important that detail is.

Name: Lilith Haruka Keyes
Age: Mid to late twenties
Location: Currently on planet Vegas.
Description: Subject stands five feet nine inches tall, has light brown hair with a few dark streaks, cut to a medium length. She lacks a right eye, unknown whether nor not this is due to birth defect or combat experience, the other eye is blue in colour. Petite figure with an atheltic build.

Take extreme caution. Subject is armed and dangerous. Pay is double upon successful capture and extraction.

Hot damn, double the usual rate?

Amandine rose from her seat with renewed zeal and marched out of the tavern. It is going to be a great year.


#35 The unknown

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Posted 22 December 2012 - 01:10 PM

I think I was right. The fate of the galaxy really IS played by only a handful of characters... :P

#36 miragefla



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Posted 22 December 2012 - 02:33 PM

Family Life

97AF, June 17th, Zakara City

It was a peaceful day and one where Monica was not needed on the base as she sat down on a chair inside her parent’s apartment, surrounded by her family. Yes, she had already moved out, but she always came to visit. Ever since Julius had told her to watch over their parents, she always kept that in mind. And she really could not move given the fact she was stationed to this city’s military detachment.

Glowing light from the sun came in through the windows as the Valken family sat around a small table having a pleasant conversation with tea or coffee being served just right beside the screen door to the balcony overlooking a good portion of the city.

“Always glad to be home, always feels like an enternity when I leave,” Julius said to Monica as he took a sip of coffee from his cup before placing it onto its plate.

“Sometimes I think you just don’t like staying here, you’re always on some adventure,” Monica replied. “You could at least invite me when you decide to go somewhere interesting,” Monica then added, nudging her brother with her elbow.

“I don’t really have a choice. I’ve got so much to look through, analyze, and organize and you’ve got your own responsibilities to attend to when not helping me,” Julius said with a sigh. “There’s always work that needs to be done and finding time for Mira has become hard,” he said looking over to the young girl who was just barely eight years old.

Monica looked to see Mira looking through an assortment of printed photos scattered on the table leaving her tea to slowly cool.

“At least you’re nice enough to bring back souvenirs,” Monica said, picking up a photo. Taking a brief look over it, from what she could tell, it looked like Westros before finding one of Lykofos and even Homeworld. “And you’re still finding time to take pictures.”

“I’m surprised you can get around so easily, Julius. Some of these photos are amazing,” they then heard their father, Walter Valken say.

Julius gave a slight laugh with a small smile. “Well, I always have help for anything and I still have Doctor Fulgrim’s Spectre to help take pictures.”

“If only Doctor Fulgrim was here now, he would be ecstatic to see what you’ve done, though, I’m sure if he still lived he would be busy studying all that alien technology recovered from that terrible conflict. He was always fascinated with anything we didn’t have,” Walter then said to his son.

“There are a lot of people that I wish were still here, but we’re all together and that counts for something.” Julius kept his smile despite Monica knowing of those who he was referring too.

“Dad?” Mira then said looking and Julius and handing him a photo. “Where’s this?”

Julius took the photo and giving a quick look before handing it back to Mira. Monica took a quick glimpse and saw a place where there were large buildings covered in snow.

“That’s on Stalingrad, a planet just of snow and ice. It's far too cold for me and I'm surprised people can keep living there year-round,” he answered as Monica could see Mira going back to the photo. “Maybe one day we should all go to the Northern Federation. I could show you all around since I’ve been there quite often myself.”

“Stalingrad, Northern Federation,” the girl muttered, trying to pair the location with the name before picking up another photo. “And this is Autumn, Lilith and Isaac?” she then asked, giving Julius another photo.

Julius gave a simple nod and returned this photo as well. “That’s right, I’m surprised you remember, it’s been a long time since we’ve last saw them.”

“She’s curious and has a good memory. It reminds me of you and Monica when you were younger.” Illia, their mother, then said, looking at Mira and then back on her own children.

“I just hope I won’t get too stressed out and forget everything when I get even older. Things have been hectic lately,” Julius responded and looked at Monica. “Anything interesting that’s been happening since I last left?”

Monica lowered her tea cup.

“Actually, yeah, Nicholas just proposed to Megan and well, she accepted,” Monica told everyone causing curious looks from her family. “I don’t believe it myself since Megan’s the one so caught up with rules and regulations. Things could get quite interesting once they’re married. I’ll be surprised if Nicholas can keep up with her.”

“Well, that’s good for them. They’re about that age where marriage and family is ideal. It’s better to start it sooner than later,” she then heard her mother say, happy at the news.

“Any word on the date of the wedding?” Julius then asked her.

“No idea when that will happen. They’ve still got rules and regulations to go through before the military will give confirmation, unless of course one of them resigns, not that I see it happening. It could be awhile until it’s announced,” Monica answered. "It'll be good though, will allow them to settle things while we wait."

“So, when should we expect you to find a good man?” Monica then heard her father say with a chuckle.

With a slight frown, she could only say, “One day.”

“Well, you better hurry before too long or I’ll never get grandchildren,” her mother then pitched in, also giving a laugh.

“You’re not that old, mom,” Monica then responded getting a bit more annoyed. She could only hope her brother did not join in at the slight jabs.

“Which is why you need to marry early and have children. You don’t want to be too old by the time they grow up.”

“Don’t be too hard on her, if anything I’m the one who should have found someone by now,” Julius then said, defending his sister. “But my adventures have made me too stubborn.”

“But you have Mira to look after and most of Monica’s friends have found someone. She doesn’t want to be the odd one left out, does she?” their father then told them looking at Monica. “You’re twenty-nine years old. My own father married at twenty-five and his at twenty-eight. And your mother and I married when I was twenty-four and she was twenty-two. You need to hurry before you reach thirty,” Walter continued, and though this was more of a joke than anything, it was really starting to get on Monica’s nerves.

“Just because most people married young doesn’t mean I have to.” Monica then replied, her head nodding to the left and right as she spoke with a bit more force. “Besides, I can’t find anyone I’m interested in.”

“Just don’t wait too long,” her mother then reminded her.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Monica said before finishing her tea. Despite the conversation, she could not help but then smile. It was good being together as a family.
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#37 miragefla



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Posted 30 December 2012 - 09:03 AM

Tales of the 761st

87AF, July 5th, Dallas City

“C’mon, the rest of the regiment won’t wait forever at the port!” the leading officer spoke through the channel as several vehicles rumbled through the debris and wreckage with a Goliath crushing a through the husk of burnt out Rattlesnake tank whose turret had been blown off.

Explosions were still going off in the background between the Ossyrians and the Tyrans. For the Karsians, who were here for a simple joint exercise with Ossyrian troops, they were stuck in-between a full-blown war and had been for nearly a full five months. Bodies and wrecks of both sides were strewn everywhere and most of what the Karsians saw could only make a sensible man be in disgust.

Karsian infantry slowly moved alongside their vehicles as tactics demanded, ensuring that their tanks would be supported in the war-torn city where ambushes could occur from nearly any direction before a soldier near the front of the column signalled for a halt causing the entire unit to slowly stop its advance.

“Enemy infantry just entered the building to the left, small broken down shop with a caved in roof and a crashed Khimera in it,” one of the soldiers said looking through his second set of goggle.

“Should we clear it?” then came a response through the comm. from another.

“Just level it, I’m not losing more men to Tyran traps. Bulldozer Two, you’re up, collapse the building on them,” the officer ordered causing a Centurion assault gun to move up slightly and bring its turret to the target building.

The cannon then elevated up, adjusting for position and angle before it fired two shells off with a rather heavy ‘thump’. They were actually slow enough that one could see the shells coming down on the target before they struck the target building two seconds later.

With a loud explosion and heavy smoke being kicked up from the shells along with debris, the building along with another nearby structure collapsed completely from the resulting shockwave with a resounding echo throughout the city, though it was minor compared to what was going on.

The Karsians waited to see if there would be any response and if the Tyrans had survived, yet, nothing came after a minute’s wait.

“Keep the advance going, and watch those skies, we can’t let aircraft catching us off-guard, understood?” the officer then announced, breaking the silence over the channel and ordering them to press on.

“Yes, sir!” came the response from various soldiers and tankers.

Once more the Karsian advance continued, slowly moving its way through the city. It was Karsian caution that kept them moving at slow pace; they were never ones to rush into dangerous situations, especially when it came to matters off-world. It was even worse as there was no defensible position to fallback to aside from the space port where their regiment was regrouping. Where others would be rushing forth, they were comparable to a snail’s pace.

Creeping ahead, the infantrymen of Karsol kept checking the surrounding areas as they passed through, taking note of vantage points for snipers and AT soldiers as well as mines that could be hiding in the rubble. The last thing they needed was to clear a tank out of the way because it lost a track.

With the advance continuing, one of the Karsian soldier then looked up at a nearby building. It was ruined, but it was still standing tall into the sky that reminded him of home. Through his goggles which zoomed in with the press of a button, he saw a body hanging out in the air being suspended by a cable around their neck that was attached to a support beam.

He could not tell if they were Tyran or Ossyrian as they had been stripped out of uniform, but it reinforced the idea both sides wanted each other dead as the soldier went on, keeping what he saw in mind.

It was hard for the Karsian troops to ignore things such as this. The occasional mass executions where troops on both sides had been lined up and shot and then left to rot in broad daylight was already hard enough and made many soldiers feel angry not only at the enemy, but also at their allies. What happened here was completely different and in violation from their standard conventions of war where it could be said to be ‘clean’.

“Should we even let their people escape this world?” the man who had seen the body then heard from another as they continued to move through the streets. “The things we’ve seen wouldn’t be tolerated up North. Even the Empire has the decency to enslave rather than outright butcher everyone of a particular race.”

“And leave innocent people to die?” the first man then answered. “Are we going to judge the Ossyrians based entirely on their military?”

“It doesn’t matter; both sides don’t care for who lives or who dies. Everyone is a target that cannot be spared in their eyes. I don’t think I’ve seen a P.O.W in Ossyrian care for this entire war and we’re not hearing much on captured Ossyrian troops, at least not for long. Why should we save people like that who are so brutal and have supported this war of annihilation? It seems completely ingrained into their society.”

“Because we have to uphold our own values,” the other said back with a sigh as much as he hated saying what he did. “Just because we do not like the way they act does not mean we can go down to their level. Civilians are still civilians, they are non-combatants. What can they do other than run and hide, hoping to survive another day on this forsaken world? If the Ossyrians cannot save their own people from certain death, we’ll do it for them. They don’t deserve this like their soldiers do.”

“You better be right or the galaxy will be far better off without either race,” the soldier then finished with a frown as the troops came to a halt once more. “What’s the hold up now?” he then asked, trying to see what was going on up front.

“Bridge is out! We'll need to cover the gap to across!” came a shout from the front and over the channel.

As the call went out, one of the vehicles near the center of the convoy began to slowly lumber forward, a Behemoth heavy tank. The heavily armoured vehicle approached the front of the column and moved towards where the old bridge had collapsed.

Before it could begin laying the bridge down, however, something struck the tank and exploded, echoing through the air.

The tank began to take more rounds that struck against its frontal armour, but it was not enough to silence the overly armoured engineering vehicle as it began to return fire with its 90mm cannon into nearby buildings, rounds continuing to strike it to no avail.

“Back that tank out, all units engage!” the order came as Karsian soldiers rush up front and took shelter behind debris scattered along their side of the bridge while their entire column of armour opened up.

Over the sounds of war, shrieks in the air could be heard as Tyran aircraft began their approach, diving through the streets in-between the massive structures of Dallas to drop their payload ontop of the Karsian column. Within moments they were already passing overhead.

One of the tanks in the column instantly went up while AA launchers struggled to track fast-movers in such a tight environment, missiles slamming into the tall towers rather than into the aircraft that began to pull away while the next squadron of aircraft was already lining up for the approach.

“Smash into the buildings for cover, get the vehicles out of the open!” the order then came out as tanks tore their way into nearby structures for shelter to avoid rockets and bombs that were being dropped on them.

Whatever feeling of apprehension the Karsians had towards both sides was now focused strictly against the Tyrans and even now, despite what they thought of their Ossyrian counterparts, they could use their help more than ever as the infantrymen could see more and more enemy troops moving in to ensure they would not make it to friendly lines.
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#38 Klaykid


    Super Dooper Paratrooper!

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Posted 30 December 2012 - 09:14 AM

I love themes like this. The hard questions of "do we deserve to live?" and "who has the right to determine the value of life".


#39 Burngirl


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Posted 30 December 2012 - 05:55 PM

I love themes like this. The hard questions of "do we deserve to live?" and "who has the right to determine the value of life".

For the first, I hope there's room for grace sprinkled in there. The Rise universe wouldn't be anything without hope

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#40 Rickard the Bearded

Rickard the Bearded

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Posted 30 December 2012 - 11:32 PM

Unaussprechlichen Kulten, or Three Days on a Wacko Bin

Tom Blake

Published 23/02/95AF on Universal Daily, pg 2

Continued from last week...

With a little help from my contact, as well as several rather hefty bribes, we managed to find our way aboard the Raping Angelus. Despite being undercover, it never fails to send a shiver down one's spy when you see a Hydra ship, as I'm sure many pilots of the Outer Routes can attest to. The sight of the defaced hull, the crude graffiti painted onto the black shell, and that's not even getting to the corpses.

As I walk down the rusty corridors, I can only wonder at the state of occupants of such a ship. While Hydra has never been what one might call a collective of paragons, they have always, at least, been disciplined. Yet as I ventured deeper into the Angelus, a sense of dreadful wrongness filled the air. I'm not one of those 'Technopath' fellows, but it was almost as if the ship itself was sick with disease.

Eventually, Tobius leads me to the Primary Hanger, or as the others called it, 'the Necropolis'. It was a fairly standard, for the ship class. Surprisingly, it contained no Scions, or even any HMVs. Much of the original paintwork had been scraped away, replaced with the Cult's own... I caution to say Propaganda, for in truth, it seemed little more then messy gibberish at the time. If only I had known what they used to paint with, and how much they needed.

By the time we got there, most of the crew had already gathered. I tugged at the hood on my robe, fearing discovery. Luckily, most of the cult's members were transfixed to the far side of the room, where a rather crude caricature of the late leader of Hydra, Alan Fury, had been placed upon. I suspect the artist had done a rather botched job of it, for the painting bore several obvious marks of hasty doctoring.

Tobius' nudging brought me out of my inquisitive state, and I soon realized the room had fallen under a dreadful silence. Judging from the steady rumble coming from below, the Angelus' warp drive had just dropped us back into realspace. But to where?

Those questions would have to go unanswered for the time being, as the silence was slowly filled with a low, methodical chanting of the words 'S'sanno Trax, M'gia M'gia'. I later learned it was some form of military lingo used by Hydra's Reclaimer allies during the War, roughly translating to 'Great God Rising, Reborn Reborn'. The chanting continued for a good minute more, during which Tobius and I made our best effort to not get noticed by any wandering eye. Thankfully, luck was on our side yet again.

Eventually, the chanting died down, and the leader of the entire operation took center stage. He was a giant of a man, dressed entirely in crude red robes made of some sort of leather. Cutting through the center of the gathering, tailed by his scantily-clad 'Succubi', the man raised both his arms, and the room fell entirely silent. The man lifted his hood, and I nearly flinched in shock. It was hard to tell what was human about him anymore, for most of his face had been covered in white scales, while the other reptilian features, so distinctive within Hydra's upper echelons, seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. For one, heartstopping moment, I could have sworn those yellow slits looked directly at me, though thankfully I was never singled out. I later learned this individual, revered by his flock as 'The Master', was none other than Colonel Syndre Mire, wanted in nearly every sector for his role as 'The Butcher of Arrys' in the Karsian Theater. And here he was, a war criminal who seemed to have taken on the role of a god amongst men as well.

At last Mire began to speak, and I quickly activated the recorder I had secured in my sleeve earlier.

"My Children. Dear Brothers and Sisters of Hydra. You Honor me with your prayers, and so I return to you your blessings tenfold. S'sanno Trax, M'gia M'gia."

"But know I am but the humble servant of the true gods, and place your true honorifics unto them, for they do demand your faith. And they are not nearly as kind as I am."

"Gods they may be, however, but they demand so little from us. So little for such blessings and powers that are our divine birthright..."

At this, the doors of the hanger began to slide open. For a moment, the part of me that handled self-preservation panicked and scream for my legs to run as fast as they could. But I remembered the Grav-Boots Tobius had provided for us yesterday. I had raised my eyebrows at those, since they were damned heavy, but now I made a mental note to give Tobius a little extra when we got out. Still, it was a little unnerving to know that all that stood between us and the outside was a thin security field.

I'm not entirely sure I can describe what I saw in words. Imagine an empty spot in the middle of space, not just devoid of stars, but actively dragging the pinprick lights around it into it's mass. It was a Wastia-Mikalovich Rift.

More specifically, Brimstone's Wastia-Mikalovich Rift. Numero Uno.

"Behold!" Continued Mire, who at this point seemed close to losing any semblance of sanity. "The Throne of The Fury! King of the Gods! Rex Mundi, M'gia M'gia!"

"Do you feel the power of The Fury within you, My Children? The Light of the Furious God? Holy Flame of the Chosen of Hydra! Yes! Feel the warm glow of The Fury's flame! The Power of the Divine!"

I was beginning to wonder if the loonie would be here all day, when I noticed several of his 'Children' were starting to close in around him. The chanting was loud again, almost defeaning. I got closer to Tobius. There was no telling what would happen next, and I would rather have him with me when we needed to escape.

"But all Power demands sacrifice. Even a God hungers! And when it is time to feed the Flames, who will? The heretics of the broken empire? Our traitorous brethen, followers of the She-Wolf? Who?!"

The crowd proceeds to scream 'Hydra!' at the top of it's lungs, of course.

"Then we shall feed the Gods!"

Those guys clustered around Mire proceed to strip to the full monty, and the big man himself lands a big kiss right on their lips. The crowd's estatic.

"Go my Children! Fury Lives in Death!"

They then start running right to the open bay doors, egged on by their buddies. Mire himself looks like he's getting high off the entire thing, screaming his lungs out while spinning around.

And then the happy volunteers throw themselves into the vacuum. One or two swan dive. They don't even struggle as they float off into the wormhole.

And just like that, the ceramony's over. Without so much as a passing word, Mire walks right back out, his Succubi clinging at his legs. Everyone else goes back to work. None of them even talk about the guys who just volunteered for a quick decompression.

Tobius tells me it's time to make ourselves scarce, of course. The ship's schedued to dock at some pirate black market near the South. With luck, we'll get off this crazy thing before someone decides to 'volunteer' ourselves.

Next Week- Sex, Violence, and Amnesia!


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