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Ebow DaLetta
Villore Sec Ops
Gallente Federation
15
   |
Posted - 2014.10.04 20:59:00 -
[1] - Quote
Hello, I'm the guy who wrote "What the Sniper Saw," "Threats" and "One-Way Trip" tales of Dust514. I have decided to expand those tales into a full-length novel about the further adventures of the mercenaries involved in those stories. "One-Way Trip" will get some revisions before it is included in the novel, unless enough people tell me it sucks as a story in which case I won't.
The stories that have already been written and published will serve as prologues to "Black Mariah" and I hope to get the rest of the novel finished by January (it's only going to be about 300 pages, including the prologues) and I'm going to post the 1st real chapter of the story here to gauge interest.
If you like the stories I write, please let me know, and feel free to share tips on the lore of Eve and Dust514 so I get my stuff as accurate as possible.
Please keep in mind that the following may be edited further before final publication of the novel, especially if I receive notes about lore that would enhance the story.
One final note: the greatest difficulty of writing compelling fiction about Dust/Eve is that death is merely an inconvenience for the characters, thus making actual drama difficult. To correct that I might have to take some liberties that might irk more than a few readers. I will not apologize for that because if there is no real fear of death then there can be no true dramatic tension. In my notes I believe I have corrected that problem.
Let's see if I'm right, and how well recieved my plan is.
As always, thank you for reading, and taking the time to comment.
58e137c67cd4de61ab4bd86d4cbcb71a6af3d158
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Ebow DaLetta
Villore Sec Ops
Gallente Federation
15
|
Posted - 2014.10.04 21:00:00 -
[2] - Quote
Part I
As her ship exited the jump gate the red-haired woman checked the instrument panel on her ship again and nodded. All systems were well within operating parameters, and her scanners indicated she was alone in this stretch of space. It wasnGÇÖt a heavily travelled sector, but neither was it normally devoid of passing ships; this just happened to be one of the lull times. Accessing the communications system she sent a coded message and sat back in the pilotGÇÖs chair waiting for a response. Two minutes later she received confirmation and submitted another set of coded instructions. After setting the autopilot with her destination she slipped out of her seat and strolled into her quarters. The ship was a medium-sized gunboat designed to accommodate up to three crew members, but was easily handled by a single well-trained pilot.
The walls of the sparsely furnished cabin were drably painted, and gave no indication of the personality of the owner. The only personal effects on board were kept here, and they consisted of two pieces of luggage containing three daysGÇÖ worth of civilian clothes and toiletries
Stripping out of her uniform she hung it carefully on the wall, her fingers lightly caressing the CaptainGÇÖs rank insignia on the epaulets. With a sigh she turned her back and picked up the larger of her two bags and setting it on the bed. Viewing the contents she selected brown pants that gathered at the ankle, a broad leather belt with a gold clasp inset with a single large ruby, and a green silk blouse. From the bottom of the bag she retrieved a pair of supple black leather boots with low heels. After dressing she returned the suitcase to the floor, then lay on her bunk and crossed her ankles.
The single bunk was large enough for two, as befitting a Captain, but not overly comfortable since the vessel was a gunship, after all. Reclining, she forced herself to relax; to breathe deeply and not think about her work. It was a difficult task, she had to fight the urge to go back to the pilotGÇÖs seat - to continue scanning the Galactic Web for news and information.
As she lay there trying to clear her mind the ship cruised onward to its destination, thrumming slightly with the pulse of the engine. Sleeping in a strange bed was difficult for her, it wasnGÇÖt something she normally did, and relaxing was just as odd. Her normal routine was to awaken at 5 am Galactic Standard Time, work out for an hour and a half, conduct personal hygiene, then set to work for the next 8-12 hours. She would break for meals, but she usually ate at her desk, watching news footage or scanning reports.
The urge to return to the cockpit and access the communications systems kept nagging at her, but she fought it down. The alarm had been set, she would return when it went off, and not a minute before. That was called discipline, she told herself.
After an eternity of lying on the bunk the proximity alert chimed and she practically leaped to her feet. As she entered the cockpit she saw another vessel approaching hers, this one was larger, more stylish, and less heavily armed. It was a personal cruiser of the type favored by corporate officers who wanted to look tough while still remaining safely within the boundaries of CONCORD-patrolled space. Resuming her place in the captainGÇÖs chair she scanned the vessel and transmitted a series of commands. Almost immediately the other vessel responded with the appropriate identification codes. Nodding in satisfaction she closed the communications array and accessed the engineering subsystem for her gunboat.
Five minutes later she exited the cockpit making her way to the airlock where she donned a spacesuit with a small jetpack designed for extra-vehicular maneuvers. Once her helmet was sealed she checked to ensure oxygen flow, then closed the interior airlock doors and depressurized the chamber. When all atmosphere had been evacuated from the airlock she opened the exterior doors and stepped into the cold emptiness of space.
Five hundred yards away the pleasure craft drifted, patiently waiting. Activating the suitGÇÖs jets she propelled herself towards it, navigating towards the aft airlock. Once she was on board she closed the exterior doors and pressurized the chamber. When the system lights confirmed it was safe she removed her helmet and dropped it and the suit to the floor, before stepping out of the airlock and closing the doors behind her. Without depressurizing the room she opened the exterior doors blasting suit and helmet out of the ship. After reclosing the airlock she proceeded to the cockpit.
The interior of the ship was painted burgundy with beige trim, and the corridors were lined with matching carpet runners. The lighting was kept at a moderate level to foster an intimate atmosphere, and as she walked hidden speakers began playing a lively tune featuring steel drums, guitars, and tambourines that quickly set her teeth on edge.
GÇ£Computer,GÇ¥ she said aloud, GÇ£cancel music.GÇ¥
At her command the ship went silent except for the muffled sound of her boots on the carpet runner. If the onboard entertainment system didnGÇÖt contain any music she could actually enjoy she knew she could find something on the Galactic Web. Til then she would enjoy the stillness.
The bridge of the pleasure barge was spacious with stations for four crewmen although only the Captain was truly needed, and then only if he didnGÇÖt want to use the autopilot. Taking her seat in the CaptainGÇÖs chair she disengaged the autopilot and programmed in the co-ordinates for her next destination. As the ship accelerated away from her gunship a warning indicated a sudden explosion behind her as the warships reactor reached critical mass and detonated.
***
58e137c67cd4de61ab4bd86d4cbcb71a6af3d158
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Ebow DaLetta
Villore Sec Ops
Gallente Federation
15
|
Posted - 2014.10.04 21:01:00 -
[3] - Quote
Part II
The beach was uncomfortably hot, and would have been unbearable if not for the giant beach towel that she had spread out to lie on. She could still feel the heat through the thick cotton, but that didnGÇÖt bother her, it was like a heating pad soothing her muscles. Lying in the sun with polarized lenses to protect her eyes, she was finally beginning to relax. The sound of the surf rolling in, mingled with bird calls and the rush of a cool breeze created a soothing environment that, after a week, was finally beginning to take hold of her.
A few yards away from her a group of young people played games in the sand, their laughter mingling with the other sounds in the background. This planet was sparsely populated, mainly inhabited by entrepreneurs who operated high-end vacation resorts and the travellers who frequented their establishments.
The resorts on this world catered to those who wished to forget the tremendous technological advances open to them. All the food was locally sourced by hydroponic collective farms operated by small groups of dedicated homesteaders, supplemented mostly by a rotating collection of students, fugitives, drifters, and retirees. Surface transport from the starports consisted of horses or emission-free off-road vehicles, both electrical and human-powered. Zoli had opted for an emission-free motorcycle with a 500cc engine. Not the fastest available, but more than powerful enough for a woman of her size.
GÇ£HeadGÇÖs up!GÇ¥ A young man shouted followed by a thump a short distance to her right.
Sitting up she glanced in the direction of the shout and saw the ball the group had been playing with. Apparently someone had gotten overzealous with a throw and it had nearly landed on her blanket.
GÇ£Sorry about that!GÇ¥ The youth grinned as he picked up the ball. GÇ£WonGÇÖt happen again!GÇ¥
GÇ£No worries,GÇ¥ she smiled. GÇ£No harm, no foul.GÇ¥
As she watched him return to the group she decided to go for a swim. Leaving her sunglasses on the blanket next to her handbag she rose smoothly, and trotted across the burning sand before diving into the incoming surf. The water was blood warm but it still felt magnificent after baking on the blanket for the afternoon. Surfacing, she shook her head, setting the dozens of tiny braids in her crimson hair flying. Droplets of water splashed away accompanied by the clicking sound of the glass beads she had woven into her hair.
Yesterday she had gone snorkeling a couple miles from this spot, so she knew the waters teemed with a variety of colorful fish. This close to the shore, however, the waters were mostly barren, aside from the bottom dwellers like sea cucumbers, anemones, and the like. She alternated between body surfing and light swimming until she was ready to head back to the shore, invigorated for her efforts. As she emerged from the surf she noticed that the crowd of youths had moved on leaving the beach quiet.
58e137c67cd4de61ab4bd86d4cbcb71a6af3d158
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Ebow DaLetta
Villore Sec Ops
Gallente Federation
15
|
Posted - 2014.10.04 21:03:00 -
[4] - Quote
Part III
Then she saw the two men waiting by her blanket. Neither was dressed for the beach, both wore plain suits with Russian collars. Without breaking her stride she put a sway in her hips, sauntering towards them unconcernedly with a shy smile on her lips.
GÇ£Hello there,GÇ¥ she purred. GÇ£How may I help you gentlemen?GÇ¥
GÇ£Sorry to bother you, maGÇÖam,GÇ¥ one of them replied, GÇ£we just need to ask you a couple questions.GÇ¥ He was a tall blond, his face slightly weathered. The other man was slightly shorter, his head shaved cleanly. Neither man was smiling, but they didnGÇÖt look openly hostile.
GÇ£Well, not sure how much help IGÇÖll be, IGÇÖve only been here a couple days.GÇ¥ She kept her posture relaxed as she approached, her eyes drifting unconcernedly from one to the other.
GÇ£WeGÇÖre looking for someone, maybe youGÇÖve seen her.GÇ¥ the blond replied. GÇ£Her name is Zoli Weatherlight.GÇ¥
The redhead pursed her lips and shook her head. GÇ£Sorry, canGÇÖt say that name means anything to me.GÇ¥
GÇ£Well, maybe youGÇÖd recognize her if you saw her face.GÇ¥ the blond continued. He produced a micro projector from his pocket and activated it. A 3D hologram of a redhaired woman with braided hair appeared, she was wearing a blue uniform with a CaptainGÇÖs rank.
Zoli dove for her purse, rolling in the sand as she retrieved the small-caliber pistol within. The two men were caught off-guard but were quick to recover; they scattered, trying to circle her. As quickly as she could she snapped off two rounds at the bald man watching him fall to the sand. Before she could get a bead on the blond her tackled her, knocking her to the ground.
GÇ£Captain Zoli Weatherlight, by the authority of the Gallente Federation youGÇÖre under arrest for treason.GÇ¥ He turned her over roughly, twisting her arm up behind her back as he snapped manacles on her. When she was safely restrained he grabbed the pistol and gave it a quick examination; it was an archaic carbon fiber 9 millimeter pistol, virtually untraceable and undetectable. Wordlessly he tucked it into his waistband under his jacket, and grabbed her by her braids, yanking her head back. GÇ£You better hope that Senjay isnGÇÖt hurt, Captain, or youGÇÖre going to have a VERY uncomfortable trip ahead of you.GÇ¥
The blond man shoved her face down into the sand and rushed over to check on his partner. GÇ£Senjay, talk to me!GÇ¥
GÇ£IGÇÖm...gonna be okayGǪGÇ¥ the other man wheezed. GÇ£Got some cracked ribs, I think...but IGÇÖll be okay.GÇ¥
The blond examined him and sighed with relief. Their microfiber suits had been designed to stop knives and small caliber bullets, but nothing was perfect and there was always the chance that an agent would be killed.
GÇ£Did you get her?GÇ¥ Senjay grunted as he struggled to a sitting position.
GÇ£Yeah,GÇ¥ the blond nodded as he glanced over at the prisoner who was sitting quietly in the sand, eyeing the two men passively, her jaw set firmly. Taking a communicator from his pocket he activated a private, encrypted frequency. GÇ£This is Skyhawk One to base. The Queen has been neutralized. I repeat, the Queen has been neutralized.GÇ¥
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