Evac
CplDavis
I hunt the arctic Snonos Join Date: 2003-01-09 Member: 12097Members
I hunt the arctic Snonos Join Date: 2003-01-09 Member: 12097Members
<div class="IPBDescription">Astrowars Fan fic.</div> This short fan fic narrative is not about NS but more about the Online game AstroWars which many,many of us NS players ahve recently gotten into. <a href='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/index.php?act=ST&f=10&t=48659' target='_blank'>http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/in...ST&f=10&t=48659</a>
For those of you that have read that post may have read my expirience where my small neutral newbie planet suddenly faced anhiliation by a much, much larger agressor who had been playing the game for some time. There was no way for me to win with my small fleet. With little time to spare I quickly fortified my homeworld defenses and hastily constructed 4 colony ships to save my people from extinction. My lonely colony ships launched into the unknown to another star system just 4 minuets before this guy's huge armada jumped into my space territory and then proceeded to kill my planet.
The following is the fictional account of one of the "soon to be refugees" of my initial homeworld.
My grandfather, a short lifetime ago once asked me how I would describe life. Being only a child at the time I did not fully comprehend his pondering question. And so I could not offer any solid response. Now it would seem, a mere 28 years later the answer to that long-standing question has dawned upon me. A star. We are a star. We were born full of potential, with growing and untapped energy. We matured and brightened, irradiating knowledge and becoming a light in the bleakness of space. And like all stars, our flame would eventually burn out.
The end was fast approaching; we could feel it deep within ourselves. A dark and sickening sensation of dread in the pit of hundreds of stomachs. And for as strong as this feeling was we showed no strong outward emotion over it, for all knew now the futility of it all.
Now as we lucky few waited in the elongated lines of despair some of us pondered back to the past. The only safe and untouchable place of refuge. I myself was never one to dwell in the past however now I find myself quickly losing the battle with an unquenchable desire to look everywhere. To see everything and everyone as it is one last time. To remember where I am from and what I am.
The first thing I see is the colossal machine towering above me. A giant space fareing ship. Rising hundreds of meters above me to the heavens. One of four steel gray messiahs to bring us to salvation. Looking grayer still as it?s mirrored by a dull depressing sky. The name Prometheus is stenciled into its side in letters the size of houses. As I slowly move my chin down and too the left I see another one of the great ships. Decameron is its name. Under which flows another endless line of anguish. As I scan the crowd I see mainly members of my generation. Deemed by the powers that be, the best hope to survive whatever future may befall us.
Many others work outside the flow of bodies. Technicians, workers, and engineers of all types. Some of them look at us with sadness. Others with anger at being left behind. A line of soldiers, many of whom seem to share the same feelings, keep them away from us. I immediately feel so very guilty. I have to turn away. I can?t bear to look at their faces. What really makes my life more valuable then anyone of his or hers?
By now the line has started to move. We are finally boarding. Though I am still about a hundred or more meters away I feel as if I?m being lead to my execution. My feet heavy with uncertainty as they drag along the concrete ground. A gaggle of reporters and news crews stand to the side silently recording the end. Taking it all in, sending images live to billions of men, women, and children around the world. Men , women, and children whose time is almost up.
A large telescreen mounted on the side of a nearby tech building flourishes to life. 800 plus heads turn as one. It portrays live news feed from stations orbiting our planet. I knew what was there but we were all stunned. The camera panned across the planet. Thousands of ships of all types, from single fighters, to shuttles, to trash haulers, to navy capital ships where present. Small personal ships, to scores of cargo and retrofitted civilian ships. Ships of all types from all nations were to be seen. As the camera paned to the right a hastily painted blue and green sphere (representing our planet?s people united) gleamed in the sunlight off the hull of a luxury space cruise liner. Also of note were the dozens of pulse cannons hastily welded onto its side.
The sudden roar of a flight of navy fighters and small several escort corvettes passed overhead startling many. We watch as they fly off into space to join the thousands more like them. The last defense of our home.
Some of the people in the lines mutter prayers, others shout out words of encouragement that go unheard of to the pilots but are universally felt nonetheless. Our brothers, sisters, fathers, and in some cases, mothers mission was clear. They would hold the line for as long as possible just to allow us and our four refugee (call them colony ships if you want but that?s nonetheless what they were.) ships to leave safely. Once the fleet fell, and we all knew it would, the millions of those left behind on the surface would mount a guerrilla war that would also in the end fail. For we all knew the overwhelming power of our antagonists. Such sacrifice.
It is finally my turn to board the ship. I give my pass chip to an officer and he scans it in. He tells me good luck and motions for me to board. I find myself unable to move. I cannot go any further but I must. I know I must stay strong for not only myself but for all those who will not be coming. And with that I turn around and take in one last view of home.
-Cpl.Davis
For those of you that have read that post may have read my expirience where my small neutral newbie planet suddenly faced anhiliation by a much, much larger agressor who had been playing the game for some time. There was no way for me to win with my small fleet. With little time to spare I quickly fortified my homeworld defenses and hastily constructed 4 colony ships to save my people from extinction. My lonely colony ships launched into the unknown to another star system just 4 minuets before this guy's huge armada jumped into my space territory and then proceeded to kill my planet.
The following is the fictional account of one of the "soon to be refugees" of my initial homeworld.
My grandfather, a short lifetime ago once asked me how I would describe life. Being only a child at the time I did not fully comprehend his pondering question. And so I could not offer any solid response. Now it would seem, a mere 28 years later the answer to that long-standing question has dawned upon me. A star. We are a star. We were born full of potential, with growing and untapped energy. We matured and brightened, irradiating knowledge and becoming a light in the bleakness of space. And like all stars, our flame would eventually burn out.
The end was fast approaching; we could feel it deep within ourselves. A dark and sickening sensation of dread in the pit of hundreds of stomachs. And for as strong as this feeling was we showed no strong outward emotion over it, for all knew now the futility of it all.
Now as we lucky few waited in the elongated lines of despair some of us pondered back to the past. The only safe and untouchable place of refuge. I myself was never one to dwell in the past however now I find myself quickly losing the battle with an unquenchable desire to look everywhere. To see everything and everyone as it is one last time. To remember where I am from and what I am.
The first thing I see is the colossal machine towering above me. A giant space fareing ship. Rising hundreds of meters above me to the heavens. One of four steel gray messiahs to bring us to salvation. Looking grayer still as it?s mirrored by a dull depressing sky. The name Prometheus is stenciled into its side in letters the size of houses. As I slowly move my chin down and too the left I see another one of the great ships. Decameron is its name. Under which flows another endless line of anguish. As I scan the crowd I see mainly members of my generation. Deemed by the powers that be, the best hope to survive whatever future may befall us.
Many others work outside the flow of bodies. Technicians, workers, and engineers of all types. Some of them look at us with sadness. Others with anger at being left behind. A line of soldiers, many of whom seem to share the same feelings, keep them away from us. I immediately feel so very guilty. I have to turn away. I can?t bear to look at their faces. What really makes my life more valuable then anyone of his or hers?
By now the line has started to move. We are finally boarding. Though I am still about a hundred or more meters away I feel as if I?m being lead to my execution. My feet heavy with uncertainty as they drag along the concrete ground. A gaggle of reporters and news crews stand to the side silently recording the end. Taking it all in, sending images live to billions of men, women, and children around the world. Men , women, and children whose time is almost up.
A large telescreen mounted on the side of a nearby tech building flourishes to life. 800 plus heads turn as one. It portrays live news feed from stations orbiting our planet. I knew what was there but we were all stunned. The camera panned across the planet. Thousands of ships of all types, from single fighters, to shuttles, to trash haulers, to navy capital ships where present. Small personal ships, to scores of cargo and retrofitted civilian ships. Ships of all types from all nations were to be seen. As the camera paned to the right a hastily painted blue and green sphere (representing our planet?s people united) gleamed in the sunlight off the hull of a luxury space cruise liner. Also of note were the dozens of pulse cannons hastily welded onto its side.
The sudden roar of a flight of navy fighters and small several escort corvettes passed overhead startling many. We watch as they fly off into space to join the thousands more like them. The last defense of our home.
Some of the people in the lines mutter prayers, others shout out words of encouragement that go unheard of to the pilots but are universally felt nonetheless. Our brothers, sisters, fathers, and in some cases, mothers mission was clear. They would hold the line for as long as possible just to allow us and our four refugee (call them colony ships if you want but that?s nonetheless what they were.) ships to leave safely. Once the fleet fell, and we all knew it would, the millions of those left behind on the surface would mount a guerrilla war that would also in the end fail. For we all knew the overwhelming power of our antagonists. Such sacrifice.
It is finally my turn to board the ship. I give my pass chip to an officer and he scans it in. He tells me good luck and motions for me to board. I find myself unable to move. I cannot go any further but I must. I know I must stay strong for not only myself but for all those who will not be coming. And with that I turn around and take in one last view of home.
-Cpl.Davis
Comments
like different points of view.
Makes me feel kinda weird tho, knowing I've done that to other people in AW... Ahhh well <!--emo&;)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/wink.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='wink.gif'><!--endemo-->
On a lighter side of things, today I won an epic battle; 400 Destroyers, 52 Cruisers, 41 Battleships vs. one of my planets. What makes it more interesting, is that 20 battleships arrived with about 4 minutes to spare, and 40 crusiers arrived at the planet with about 30 seconds till the enemy fleet attacked.
Cutting it close <!--emo&;)--><img src='http://www.unknownworlds.com/forums/html/emoticons/wink.gif' border='0' style='vertical-align:middle' alt='wink.gif'><!--endemo-->