bobthecabbage

bobthecabbage @ 2009-05-05T17:50:00

2009-05-06T00:51:09Z

Revised start, all new action!

   Roy frowned in the darkness. Eric had been fiddling with the generator for a while now, occasionally muttering or cursing, but hadn't reported any progress. The intermittent banging and scraping of his work echoed throughout the cavern, mingling with the soft murmurs of the underground stream, fading into ghostly quiet. Roy didn't normally mind the dark, but today wasn't going normally. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot, then caught himself and relaxed into a resting stance. He'd be damned if he'd let something as trivial as anxiety overcome his training.
    Calmly, Roy surveyed the area. It was too dark to see much of anything, but it helped him focus. He knew there were rocks, and smaller rocks, and somewhere there was water, but he didn't know much by way of specifics. He'd spent a lot of time at the Seville family compound over the years, but hadn't found out about this place until today. Much of the land in the area was mountainous, so he supposed this cavern wasn't surprising, but it nettled him that he hadn't known of something so big underneath the place he considered home. Sighing, he reflected that he probably wouldn't get the chance to come here again.
    With a cry of triumph, Eric flipped a switch. The generator groaned, hummed, and whirred. Indicator lights sprang to life, and both boys managed to shield their eyes before the emergency lights came on. They weren't especially intense, but compared to total darkness, they were more than bright enough. Eric slid out from under the machine and squinted, getting to his feet as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. "I got it working."
    Roy turned, his eyes shut tight and his face distorted into a horrible grimace. "What, really? I never would have guessed. I thought my eyes imploded on their own!"
    "I'll buy you some new ones when we get off-planet. Let's move." Eric started off, and Roy fell in behind.
    The area wasn't much more interesting lit up than it was pitch black. There were brownish rocks, and grayish rocks, and smaller versions of both. Stalactites and stalagmites appeared here and there, though Roy couldn't remember which was which. The ceiling was lower than he'd guessed, maybe three meters, and strung with lights, The tunnel they were moving through was, he suspected, like any other they were likely to encounter. "Why didn't I know about this place?"
    "'Cause Gramps didn't tell me 'til just before he died, and he suggested I keep it quiet. This is where the important stuff is hidden. Some of it, at least. In there." He nodded at a side tunnel and went inside, ducking under an outcropping of stone. Roy didn't bother. Being shorter sometimes had its perks.
    "How's the elf doing, anyway?"
    "Same as ever, I'd guess. He checks in on the anniversary of Gramps' death, but that's the only time he pops up. I think he doesn't leave home much."
    "So, what, he lives down here?"
    "Nah. I don't know where he lives, but it ain't this backwater planet. There's just supposed to be a way to contact him in here."
    The tunnel ended in a circular room, which had obviously been given special attention. The walls and floor were smooth, the stone polished and carved with arcane runes. Electric light gave way to a soft green glow; the symbols, it seemed, weren't just for show. The air was filled with magic.
    In the center of the room, inside a pentagram, was a carved mahogany table. It held a crystal ball, connected to a strange device. Eric moved to investigate, Roy examining the the walls and floor. "This is incredible! I don't know where Eldrien lives, but he sure knows how to communicate in style."
    "You said it," said Eric, gingerly poking the object. "This is a rotary phone."

Part 3 (Old)

2009-03-28T14:03:51Z

An update? Really? Holy crap!

    Eric was having a bad day. Apparently.
   He yawned, hands bound behind his back, sitting cross-legged on the floor. His ankles were tied together, his eyes were covered, and he needed to use the bathroom. Well, probably. He usually did when he got up in the morning. He wasn't sure if it was morning yet, but he was awake, sort of, and that was the same thing. Right? He shifted his weight, trying to wake up without the benefit of being able to move. Someone opened a door.
   "We've confirmed it, sir. These three, and a fourth on patrol, are all there is. Delta and Striker are tracking him down now."
   Eric stifled another yawn. This was probably important, and he didn't want to interrupt.
   "Are we sure no one called for help?"
   "The logs're clean, sir. If we hadn't captured 'em, they wouldn't even know we were here. And with the storm as bad as it is, their patroller would expect lost connections. Prevent him from calling home, too."
   "Good. Get to work." Eric decided this voice was the leader. He had a practiced way of speaking, and the other one called him sir, and he probably had a mustache. Commanders got to have facial hair. Eric didn't want a mustache, but it would be nice to have the option. A door closed. Eric yawned again.
   "Bored, soldier?" This was a third voice. It sounded confident. It also sounded slightly condescending. Eric figured this was the second in command, and that this was probably a direct question.
   "Just woke up, sir."
   "Yeah? Sleep well?"
   "Sort of, sir. The beds aren't very comfy here."
   There were a couple chuckles. Footsteps moved in front of him. "What's your name, boy?" Still the second. The commander was keeping quiet.
   "Eric, sir. Would you like my rank and serial number?"
   "No." More footsteps, slightly heavier. The commander was moving in. "I'd like to know how many men are stationed here, though."
   "Four. Your man confirmed it. And the duty roster's on the wall in the mess." He wiggled his fingers behind his back. The bindings weren't cutting off his circulation, at least.
   "And your security pass?"
   "What about it, sir?" He twisted his wrists. Limited movement, but probably enough.
   There was a tap at his gut. A warning. "What is it?"
   "A secret, sir."
   Eric yelped at the kick. It was a good one, knocking the air out of him without doing major damage. He coughed and gasped for air, pulling at his bonds involuntarily, noting dimly that the man was a professional. "What is your security pass code, soldier?"
   "A s-secret, sir."
This kick knocked him backwards. He fell onto his arms, trapped between his back and the floor, and tried desperately to focus. "Well?"
   "A secre-argh!"
   A boot was being ground into his shoulder. It was terribly unpleasant, but he kept his focus as best he could.
   "This isn't going to work, you know. If I don't get a code from you, I'll get it from your comrades. Start talking."

    Eric was having a very bad day.
    He'd been awake, as near as he could tell, for thirty minutes, and over half of that had been spent being interrogated. Breathing hurt, he'd bitten his tongue, and he was getting a cramp from laying on his arms. He flexed his hands and grunted.
    "Your squad mates should, eventually, wake up. But it could be hours, and I'm not stopping until one of you tells me what I want to know." The man punctuated this with a kick to Eric's ribs. "What is your security pass, maggot?"
   He mumbled.
    "What was that?"
    Eric made a noise like a dying light bulb. Pulling his hands free, a blinding flash burst from his palm. He ripped off his blindfold as his captors cried out, then pushed himself up. Blinking away tears, he located his slightly blurry targets and slashed with his hand. The men smashed into each other, then fell to the floor.
    Staggering to his feet, Eric hobbled over. Both enemy soldiers were out, though probably not permanently. He smiled as he noted the commander had a mustache, then regretted it as his face started throbbing. Rubbing his eyes, he found his fellow prisoners in a corner and freed them from their restraints. Even unconscious, they'd been tied up as well as he had. Definitely a well trained force.
    Having liberated his allies, he bound his assailants. He noted that, beyond the style of the wrist cuffs, the men had no identification. Their equipment was commercially available, their uniforms were simply practical combat wear, and they had no wallets to ruffle through. The cuffs were standard Democratic Unified Planets issue, however; most likely they'd hired a group of mercenaries to disrupt the graduation.
    Eric hobbled his way to a chair and plopped down. It hurt, but so did standing, so he let himself lean back and try to relax. He needed a plan, some breakfast, and a bathroom. The last one was most pressing, but it was on the other side of the room. He wasn't sure if it was worth it, but his bladder made a persuasive argument. He made his way over.
    He felt good about his decision as he washed his hands. It was funny how, even with hostile mercenaries around, using the toilet was so important. He felt like laughing, but decided against it. His ribs might be broken, and he didn't want to kill his mood by finding out. He reached for the door.
    And froze as he heard another door open.

Intermission interruption

2009-01-22T10:28:08Z

There are, in life, two- and only two- truths.

What you don't know can't hurt you.

The second is irrelevant.

Sorry for the delay!

2009-01-01T23:11:10Z

Computer is sort of back again. I expect to start writing again soon-ish (not an explicit or implied warranty).

~2~ (Old)

2008-12-14T13:15:40Z

Admiral-General Nathan Hill, Elite Defender Prime and commander of the Republic's forces along the border with the Democratic Unified Planets, adjusted his hat. Twenty three years ago, he reflected, I was afraid this place would be my prison. I suppose I was right.

He straightened his sword belt. It was an ancient custom, no longer written in any manual he knew of, a symbol of an era so old many people didn't know it existed. With a grim smile, he grasped his sheath and pushed with his thumb. Half an inch of death appeared in his mirror, then slid back into hiding. His troops thought it an eccentricity. His Elites knew it a necessity. His enemies knew it as the end. He turned smartly and strode out of his dressing room.

A corporal saluted as he entered the hall, then fled past. Today, thirteen Defenders Prospectus would become Elite Defenders, and the organized chaos of Elisand Base was threatening to explode. Order was abandoned in an attempt to get things done on time, and the sight of a captain reporting to a clerk still made him smile. The first graduation had been twelve years ago, and it hadn't much changed since then. The reason it surprised people year after year was a mystery he had given up trying to understand. A waving hand caught his attention.

"General Hill! We have a problem!" A flustered marine ran towards him, barely stopping before running him over. "The Flag is missing!"

Hill nodded. It took everything he had not to laugh, and he doubted he could open his mouth without losing his composure.

The man seemed about to say more, but another voice beat him to it. "Admiral Hill! We have a problem!" A pilot nearly collided with the marine. "The Flag is missing!"

Hill nodded again. He wasn't sure what his expression was, but the two soldiers seemed to be shaking in their boots, and that just made it worse. He had to say something, or they'd probably die of fright- but he didn't think they'd feel much better about him laughing. He decided he'd have to risk it, but the PA system spared him the trouble.

"Attention! Attention! Bravo Team has returned with the Flag! Repeat, Bravo Team has returned with the Flag! All members of Plasma Team, report to the mess hall! Repeat, Plasma Team, get your sorry loser asses to the mess or we'll beat our money out of you at the ceremony!" The microphone clicked off, and Hill allowed himself to chuckle. He sidestepped the stunned soldiers and continued down the hall, hoping to be out of earshot before he finally broke down. The PA started up again: "Bravo Team, this is Plasma Team. Don't know what you're trying to pull, but we've got the Flag right here. Hope you're ready to pay- and admit you were beat fair and square!"

Turning a corner, he let it go. A couple soldiers stopped to stare as he went past, laughing so hard on such an important occassion, but Hill ignored them. Still laughing, he passed through the heavy blast doors that led out onto the parade grounds. Workers had been going through the night to prepare it for the graduation ceremony, and it seemed they were determined to keep going until someone told them to stop. Sometimes it amazed him that people got anything done, but he supposed it all depended on the definition of "done". He climbed the steps leading to the stage.

One of his Elites was nodding patiently at a group of extravagantly dressed people, who were in turn yelling angrily at her. She saw him coming and smiled, which seemed to confuse the group. Almost as one they turned to look behind them, and in an almost terrifying unison they started yelling at him.
"How dare you force me to wait out in this heat!"
"You're seating me WHERE? Don't you know who I am?"
"This is unacceptable!"
"Appaling!"
"Jones." She saluted, and he nodded in return. "How's it going?"
Elite Defender Jones shook her head. "It's a mess, Sir. Nothing's ready and I doubt another week would help, two of the contractors had to be arrested to break up a fight, and there's a rather vocal group of guests who seem to think the ceremony's for them. Pretty standard, all around."
"Glad to hear it." He reached into his dress jacket and handed her a case. "They ready to hang the Flag up?"
Jones looked over her shoulder. "Looks like it. I'll give it to 'em now. Good luck, Sir."
"Thanks." He took a deep breath, watching her go as an excuse to ignore the people being stupid at him. Dealing with Important People was one of the worst parts of the job- at least you could fire back at an enemy. Putting on his best smile, he faced the group. "I'm certainly sorry if any of you have taken offense..."

------------

"...And it is my great honor to stand here today, sharing the stage with the best our great Republic has to offer. Each one of these brave men and women have proven themselves, giving all they could, and then giving more. We honor each and every one of you, and I hope everyone here will join me in applauding our newest Elite Defenders." Admiral-General Nathan Hill turned from his podium to the thirteen people seated on stage. He had done his best to mold them into something special, and they had not dissapointed. Even with their faces covered in ink, forced to face their family and friends wearing the mark of their leader's booby-trapped "Flag" boxes, they were an impressive sight. Nathan Hill began to clap, and everyone in attendence joined in.

As did Corporal Third Class William Selt. He leaned back in his chair, feet on his instrument console, watching the graduation ceremony on one of his security monitors. He reached down and picked up his cup, took a sip of coffee and wondered what it was like to be Elite. There was a grumbling from the com. "What was that, Roy?"
"I said it's bloody cold!"
"No shit. It's always cold. Quit complaining."
"And you never complain on patrol?"
Selt peered into his empty cup. "I used to. Then I started suckering people into taking my shifts." He pushed off from the console and rolled over to the coffee pot. "New guys never believe how bad it is out there. Figure going on patrol's gotta be better than staying inside all day, right? I've been on pole duty more times than I care to count- and I tell ya, Roy, boredom's better than blizzards. Heh." He sipped his coffee. "And coffee, no matter how shitty, is better than recycled water." He worked his way back to his post. "You ever watch the Elite Defender graduation, Roy?"
The com was silent.
"Roy?"
Something rustled behind him, and then it all went dark.

Holiday Interlude

2008-12-13T00:52:44Z

Santa Claus, the jolly elf,
Stood before his workshop shelf.
With twinkling eyes he took a nail,
And tapped three times upon a pail.

There was a whoosh! There was a whine!
Cogs went "Grunt!" and gears went "Grind!"
The workshop wall slid back and in,
While Santa stroked his bearded chin.

Where once was simple jolly stone,
Now stood a sight to freeze the bone.
An altar carved from ancient toys,
Un-dreampt of by good girls and boys!

An air of madness filled the room,
Strange creatures skittered in the gloom.
Santa raised a china doll,
And cried out "T'ngen Frk't Gh'rahl!"

Button eyes of midnight black,
Began to smoke, and then to crack.
Light and shadow mixed and fled,
As something reared its horn-ed head!

Just then the workshop door flew in,
And in charged Cupid! Donner! Blitzen!
The eight reindeer were armed for war,
And Dasher strode onto the floor.

"We know about your plan!" he roared!
"We know you've gone out of your gourd!
We love you, Santa, but we must stop
Your plan to summon Yog-Rudolph!"

A cackle rose about the place,
Which twisted wrong in time and space,
And Santa joined the horrid laughter!
"Ho-ho-ho! Ho-ho-HASTUR!"

Comet threw a sugar bomb,
But still the laughter echoed on!
Dancer launched an RPG,
But it couldn't stop the twisted glee!

"F'tain F'tek F'Leth F'tagn!
Thus completes the ancient bargain!"
Santa shook like horrid jelly,
And seemed to twist about his belly!

A flash of blinding, burning night,
A rush of horrid anti-light,
A note from some forgotten horn,
And Yog-Rudolph was reborn!

"At last, the end of life and reason,
Shall mark the last holiday season!
My hunger burns from long repose,
Cower before my crimson nose!"

Then Prancer and Vixen joined the fray,
Determined to fight and save the day.
As Yog prepared to devour all,
They played catch with a soccer ball.

"Pitiful worms! Do you not see?
Soon all you know will cease to be!"
"You can kill the world all night and day,
But this is our ball and you can't play!"

Silence fell as Rudolph paused,
He flexed a thousand wicked claws,
He saw the ball pass 'tween the two.
"Hey, guys, can I play with you?"

"No." they said. "Now go away.
You can not even watch us play."
Rudolph blinked a million eyes,
Then sniffled and began to cry.

"You guys suck! I'm going home!
To sit upon my wretched throne,
And blog about how much you SUCK!"
"That's nice. Leave." "You guys suck!"

All at once the darkness fled,
Leaving peace for live and dead.
Yog-Rudolph wept his wretched tears,
And went to cry for a thousand years.

Prancer caught the ball and paused,
Then went to check on Santa Claus.
Old Cringle groaned and wiped his face,
His eyes were without madness' trace.

"What has happened? Where am I?
Why is my workshop- oh. Oh my."
"It's okay Santa, you weren't yourself.
We're glad to have back our favorite elf."

Dancer and Comet helped him stand.
And joy would return to all the land.
"You sure have saved my jolly hide!
You Reindeer fill me with such pride!"

And all the eight, and Santa, too,
Laughed until their cheeks were blue.
And Christmas would be here to stay,
Except in crummy old Rlyeh.

~1~ (Old)

2008-12-11T09:46:32Z

Over-Captain Nathan Hill, commanding officer of Ellisand Base- and, therefore, planet Ellisand- was unhappy. There were many reasons for this, reasons he dealt with or ignored to the best of his ability. But he could not ignore the letter on his desk. It was addressed to the Governor General of Planet Ellisand, Duly Appointed Overseer of Matters Civilian and Military, Arbiter of Justice and Shield of the People of the Glorious Unified Republic of Allied Systems, Major Nathan Hill. It was unopened. It mocked him. He pushed a button. "Miss Sorel? Send in the messenger."

Nathan Hill had been in charge of the Ellisand base for a little over a standard year. In that time he had made many changes, transforming one of the Republic's most vital defensive points from a cesspool of corruption into a model of efficiency. He had gone through every record, store room, and hidden niche he could find, and done what he could to remove the rot. He had done in barely a year what most would find difficult in a decade, and he had felt he would soon be able to hand command to a capable subordinate so he could continue his career. Or he had, until the letter. The door to his office opened.

The woman who entered was unremarkable. She looked generally how he felt a messenger should look, and she moved with the careful stumble civilians tended to use. She did not quite gawk at him, but he sensed she was tempted. No doubt she had expected to simply be handed a reply by his secretary and be off on the next flight out. She stood a respectful distance from his desk and waited for him to speak.

"Take a seat." He nodded at a chair. "I have some questions."
She began to nod in return, then caught herself and tried not to look embarassed as she sat. "W-what about, Sir?"
"To start, why are you here?"
"Sir? I was told-"
He stood, and came around the desk. "Regulations require a physical message and a human messenger in addition to a remote message, yes. What I want to know is why an Elite Infiltrator is posing as a messenger to deliver a standard, and unwelcome, letter?"
She looked confused. He glared at her. She grinned. "I am impressed, Major. I had expected this to be a big surprise at a later date!" He continued to glare. "Oh, relax, kid. You've been promoted, given a big raise, and sniffed out one of the best spies in the business. You should be jubilant, not-"
"With all due respect, ma'am," he interrupted, without dropping his glare, "Please answer the question."
"-Not so damn moody! Yeesh. Big bag of smiles you are! Fine. I was supposed to get stuck here due to beurocratic blundering and watch you in action. You've been doing good work out here, and it's been getting noticed back at HQ. I'm expected to file a report in a few days, but I don't think I need to wait that long. Congratulations, Nathan. Elisand will be the site of our newest Elite Soldier Training Center, and the first to specialize in Strategic Defense."
He blinked. "You mean..."
"Damn straight! You, Major, will be the very first Elite Defender, tasked with guarding Republic space and training our best and brightest. Your work here fixed a major hole before our enemies could exploit it, and you deserve the thanks of everyone your vigilance has saved. But a promotion and the chance of a lifetime will have to do, eh?"
Major Nathan Hill, Elite Defender, smiled. "This morning I was afraid I'd be stuck here for the rest of my career. Now I'm looking forward to it- so I'd have to say yes, Ma'am. It will do quite nicely."

An Introduction

2008-12-11T07:37:39Z

There is, in the universe, a whole lot of shit.

I'll give that a minute to sink in.

Still here? Bully. Now, having established this Universal Law Concerning Everything's Remarkable Shittiness, we can move onto another, fundamental, truth.

The universe is a lazy son of a bitch.

Perfect. Now that THAT'S settled, we can get started. I suggest you hold on to your hats- they are precious, and you do not want to lose them.