Aurora Comics Project

[Rechkalov]

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Present state of affairs

which is a queer way of calling the mess this has so quickly become

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Original post

LET'S GET CREATIVE!

Here's the thing.

Along with the brilliant writer Ricky Lima (Black Hole Hunters Club, Deep Sea graphic novel), we would like to get down to some proper bloody work come new year, where proper bloody work should better damn well end with a decent, mind-blowing comics to show for it.

Meanwhile, however, we find ourselves stalling, specifically with regard to the stories themselves (we know we want to do sci-fi, but that's about that).

THIS IS WHERE YOU GUYS COME IN we try to exploit your best gaming experience/storytelling ability, offering you a more or less nice and hopefully dignified graphical adaptation in return.

If you are intrigued, please, do throw your best/dearest stories at us!

If some of you have the guts, skill and time to turn them into actual script and become EQUAL AS CO-CREATORS, then by all means, jump aboard.

Same goes for those gifted and willing to draw them.

I would be overjoyed if we could actually make this a community thing.

Otherwise, there's the obvious catch; that if you leave writing/drawing/both up to me or Ricky, we might, you know, happen to prefer your partner's story over yours.

Let's take it easy.

Let's start with something simple.

Aim for short stories first (span 10-20 pages, let's say) - get a bunch of those.

Seriously. Shorter is better.

1) The final thing will be more diverse (and Lord Singulo knows that with Aurora, there's plenty of room for diversity)

2) Smaller chunks will be easier to produce, and will more often provide us with sense of accomplishment, fueling further creativity

As for themes - anything goes!

From dark stories of syndicate agents over hoarse-voiced captains trying to hold their lunatic-departments together, over dramas of people of various posts to bitter janitors fighting the corporate bureaucracy one blood stained shower booth at a time - I'm sure you guys won't fail to surprise in this aspect.

Heck, if the lore team would like to utilize this, all the better.

Playing is good; playing and creating something along the way, if only to serve as a memory, is better.

Depending on how whether you guys choose to participate, we'll get this place somewhat organized - that is, unlike the mess this post is presently.

Seriously. Only thing to make this more confusing would be to turn it comic sans.

 

ABOUT WRITING NOVELS/SHORT STORIES

 

Now, some of you in the aspiring section had confessed of being frankly freaked out by the idea of transferring your stories to black and white, and others in the process of doing so had overworked themselves.

No wonder. It's a LOT of work.

Here's the fun thing, though - you do not need to write a proper short story.

I've tried to get this point across earlier, but I imagine my wording was lacking.

Comics are good deal about telling the story through pictures (no shit!). I am emphasizing this because a lot -a lot- of your work often goes into describing situations in a manner that definitely works great and makes the story superbly immersive to read - but most of your commentary on the surroundings and certain mechanics of the character will be lost in the transition.

If you are one of those lucky bastards to whom writing comes naturally, by all means, DO write in a manner that pleases you the most.

Even you should keep in mind, though, that your story is going to be drawn, and that certain things are necessary to bear in mind - the one I've seen here the most would be that, while narration and protagonist's own narration can live side by side in a written story, they make an awful mess of text bubbles in a comics.

If you wish to have your story narrated beyond pictures and dialog, please, take care to choose either A) the protagonist or B) omnipotent narrator, but preferably not both.

Or to put it differently, you can write both, but we are sure as hell cutting one of 'em out.

If you belong into the first group of people who don't have all that much time/nerve to put into this, yet would like to participate - do not despair.

I am enclosing two bits of text that have actually already become a comics, and you will see that they are NOWHERE near a novel. (I'm not saying they make for a good comics, but a comics nonetheless)

THIS HERE is how the script looked. Stuff like this is plenty sufficient; enough to make out what is going on and why, and YOUR dialogues (since those are your most direct fingerprint on the final "product")

Note: Just realized this can be misleading. Do not bother yourself with panels and stuff (unless you have a panel you really wanna see in your head) - this is just to illustrate how simplistic this can be.

Simulacrum

Page 1

Panel 1

We’re stuck in the rain with Amara in the middle of the night. The streets are slick with rain and shining under the glow of the harsh LED lamps. They’re cheaper for the city to produce so they don’t care that the harsh glow has been linked to severe cases of insomnia. Amara is in an alleyway banging on a cheap aluminum door. A camera above the door watches on.

Caption: Before.

Panel 2

We move in closer and can see the annoyance on Amara’s face as she yells through the door.

Amara: Just open up Mister. I know you’re in there.

Panel 3

We focus in on a camera above the door watching Amara with indifference. Even if the camera could feel I doubt it’d care about her.

Amara: I need your help.

Panel 4

We’re now inside a dark room, lit only by the light of computer monitors. Someone is watching the monitors. This is the Mister, a high level hacker and expert in robotics. He isn’t in great standings with the cops, but that’s the price of innovation he tells people. On the screen we can see Amara outside looking up at the camara.

Amara: Strictly off the record. I promise.

Panel 5

The aluminum door makes a “psssshhh” sound as smoke begins to come from the edges of it. It’s opening up, Amara’s pleads are heard.

Panel 6

A large robot appears at the door to inspect Amara. Its eyes glow red as it scans her. Perhaps it doesn’t have legs and its torso is actually tied to the wall next to the door, as if it’s a permanent fixture in the building used to scan incoming visitors. Paranoia runs high with the Mister. His line of work requires it.

Panel 7

Back in that darken room from panel 4. The Mister is watching the scan of Amara. We can see an outline of a gun on her in the scan.

Page 2

Panel 1

Close up on the Misters face. We can barely see it, his face is only lit up by the monitors around him. But in the very dim light we can see that is a very pale and fragile man. Nothing about it speaks of good health. He spends all his time with robotics and that has taken a significant toll on him. One he doesn’t mind paying.

Mister: The gun. Get rid of it.

Panel 2

Back in the alleyway Amara reaches behind her to pull out the gun.

Panel 3

The door robot opens up a small drawer in its chest.

Panel 4

Amara places her gun in the drawer reluctantly. She prepares herself for the worst, but sometimes you need to give up your safety for what you need. It’s a calculated risk, one she hopes pays off.

Panel 5

The door robot swings away opening up the way for Amara to enter. As she walks by the robot she sarcastically smiles.

Amara: Keep my gun safe big guy.

Page 3

Panel 1

The Misters face takes up half of the panel and in the other half we see a doorway with Amara standing in its frame. In the panel we really see the detail in the Misters face and how sunken in his eyes are. His eyes are glassy and wet, he’s on some kind of drug. Perhaps a focus enhancing drug that keep him up all night. It’s clear theres something up with him.

Mister: Civilian clothes, unregistered gun, all in the dead of night. Something big going down officer?

Amara: You rather me break down your door?

Panel 2

Amara comes deep into the room, unafraid. Despite losing her gun, she is confident the Mister isn’t a threat.

Amara: You want me to break down the door next time?

Amara: I see at least four violations of your parol in this room alone.

Panel 3

The Mister turns around in his chair. I’m thinking it’s a sweet robotic wheelchair kind of situation. Something to really emphasize how he’s given his life up totally to robotics. His legs don’t work, and he’s a broken man. The only thing he values is his mind and his hands. Though, his hands he can probably do away with to if he really needed to.

Mister: No, I don’t think you would.

Mister: Not for what you need. All this secrecy is unlike you.

Mister: Now, what is it that you want?

Panel 4

Let’s put the two characters on opposite sides of the panel. This should be a fairly large panel, taking up maybe half the page. On the left is Amara staring at the Mister who is on the right. We can see a clear contrast between the two players. One (Amara) is strong and able, and the other (The Mister) weak but intelligent. I want this contrast to be really seen here.

Amara: I need a Simulacrum

Mister: Oh good!

Page 4

This page is going to have 5 long panels that will take up the whole width of the page. It’s going to serve as a credit scene for us, but also as a way of introducing the android as it dies for the first time. It also will hopefully grab peoples attention and hook them to continue to read the rest. This will be action packed.

Panel 1

We find ourself on the outlying moon where the drug lord is meeting with the aliens. We use the term meeting loosely because he’s just going to exploit the shit out of them. When we come into the scene the android is being smashed in the face with an aluminum rod. This whole fight is going to be kept quiet so as to not ruin Kondo’s plan for the meeting. So the goons don’t use anything loud in this fight (no guns). This fight takes place in an unfinished skyscraper.

Caption: Jiri & Ricky present...

Panel 2

Close up of the androids arm being dented and smashed by another goon with a rod.

Caption: A future story...

Panel 3

Black panel. This will show the title of the book. We’ll work on that when we’re done I guess haha.

Caption: [TITLE]

Panel 4

One of the goons is holding the android by the collar.

Goon: Your droid is garbage.

Panel 5

The android is thrown out the window. I was thinking in this scene we see the android falling through the sky, glass flying all around it and the city below it ready to accept the falling android. The panel, I was thinking, won’t have a bottom but instead fade off towards the bottom of the page.

Edited March 17, 2016 by Guest

[Guest]

This sounds interesting. I might tried to write down the round that made me stay on the server in the first place.

[Rusty Shackleford]

Awwwwwwwww Yisssssssssssssss.

I was actually juggling the idea of attempting a comic thing anyway, and was experimenting with pixel art styles, but it would be awesome to have a full-on community thing going.

Count me in for this.

[Valkrae]

I'm down for this, time to actually write something worthwhile.

[Guest]

(repost, don't post while drunk, kids)

Edited December 12, 2015 by Guest

[Rechkalov]

Happy to hear you guys are actually interested in such a thing!

You rock!

Just bear in mind to start simple - if this works out, we can always expand and elaborate later.

Looking forward to hearing of your most cherished adventures!

[Skull132]

I may go rooting around in my noggin'.

Would you be able to handle long-form narrative as a basis? That is to say, multiple events with less depth, or would you prefer a detail account of a single event? Cause, I have something in mind for the long-form narrative, and it spans roughly 3 months of gametime.

Dicks, reread original post, need to think. Must think.

[Rechkalov]

Would you be able to handle long-form narrative as a basis? That is to say, multiple events with less depth, or would you prefer a detail account of a single event? Cause, I have something in mind for the long-form narrative, and it spans roughly 3 months of gametime.

 

Don't get me wrong; it would be great if we could do something longer, span a proper story people can get involved in and all that jazz.

But let's keep in mind that we're not used to working with one another, and that even with the bar set as low as it presently is, compromises will have to be made and execution will be poor at times and not everybody may turn out happy.

Let's first try to get this running at all, and then expand; starting simple is not such an easy task as it may sound.

However, if this -we- do work out, elaborating will be relatively simple.

Tl;dr, don't discard your three-months story, but bear with us. I am not entirely sure yet what I'm doing.

[canon35]

So what, write stories, send them to you? Do they have to take place on the aurora itself?

[Rechkalov]

So what, write stories, send them to you? Do they have to take place on the aurora itself?

 

It would be preferable if they came from Aurora as such.

As to the desirable format of those stories, you need not go through the trouble of making them a decent piece of writing. They will have to be processed into a script I can use, anyway, so it really doesn't need to be novel-worthy.

Similarly, to make a fifteen-pages long comics, you don't need fifteen pages of a story.

That being said, I don't mean to stop you from writing like that if that brings you pleasure. Having fun is important!

Once you think you've got everything you want down in black and white, PM it to me.

I will proceed to send it Ricky's way, and parallel to that we'll organize the thread-page here, so that everybody can see what kinds of stories we already have and how far on them we are with regards to progress.

[Guest]

If I understand you correctly, is it similar to the "One-Hit-Wonder" style of comic writing? Like how Marvel would illustrate a story in a single issue about a singular, not-so-well-known hero?

[Rechkalov]

If I understand you correctly, is it similar to the "One-Hit-Wonder" style of comic writing? Like how Marvel would illustrate a story in a single issue about a singular, not-so-well-known hero?

 

Eww, why did you have to bring Marvel up?

And, well, I sure hope not. Rather, I was hoping at gathering a number of stories from perspectives of different characters from a single place, that is, the (in)famous Aurora.

Implying all the stories would end up being a Single Thing (I am hesitant to wave the word "issue" around when so far we don't even have a single sketch) rather than Several Independent Things - maybe closer to things like Spera?*

*Spera has consistent protagonists, but you get the point; it's a collection of stories crafted by various writers and artists. Despite having clearly defined main cast, the nature and execution of each adventure differs greatly from all the other issues.

Edit: In case you're unfamiliar with Spera, make sure to check them out here ---> http://spera-comic.com/

Those guys have a wonderful thing going on!

[Gollee]

I have a story based on Whisper; and the events that were set up so she joined the crew.

[Rechkalov]

No entries so far.

I'm watching you, gentlemen!

[Gollee]

15 pages.

 

The armoured man read the scrap of paper quickly, eyes scanning the lines. He was wearing a blood-red hardsuit, laced with scorch marks and impact craters. A second armoured form moved up next to him, this one’s left arm hung loosely at their side, with dried blood crusted around the joint. “Orders?” He asked the first man, who scrunched up the paper.

“Return to base for punishment…We had this mission, then that bitch let it get away.” He clenched his fist, and then slammed it into the table in front of him, leaving a dent in the hardened metal.

The second man nodded, “It was her fault, she should have killed that prisoner when she had the chance, she screwed over the mission, and killed Blade by doing it.” The first man nodded again, it would take a while before he would forget the sight of Blade, the largest, and strongest member of their team, being brought down and beaten to death by a group of civilians.

“We should get rid of her, throw her into space, then blame the whole mission failure on her,” The second man urged, leaning closer.

The first man stood up suddenly, “You know what? Yes, it was her fault, let’s make her suffer.”

The two armoured soldiers left the shuttle bridge, being joined by a third along the way. They made their way towards the back of the shuttle, where a fourth soldier was sat down, still fully suited, checking over some equipment.

The first man walked up quietly, and the soldier turned around, talking in a distinctly female voice, “No. Equipment. Is. Dam-“ The man struck her across the head with a baton, knocking her to the ground, where the other two grabbed her and lifted her to her feet. She struggled with them, “Let. Go!” The two of them dragged her into the shuttle’s airlock, pushing her head against the wall as they began to cycle out.

“This is for Blade; Bitch!” The two of them shoved her out of the airlock, but she clung to the edge, scrambling to get back in. They unholstered their energy guns. Flashes of ruby light strobed the shuttle, and the spaced soldier fell away, sections of her suit glowing cherry-red as she twitched spasmodically. One last blast sent her spinning as she collided with the hull, globules of molten metal spinning off of her suit.

Three hours later, a perimeter alarm sounded around the Aurora research station, in orbit around Tau Ceti, a minute mass had passed into a two kilometre zone around the station. A quick scan revealed the mass was hanging in close proximity with the station, emitting low level thermal and EM signatures; a report was sent, ordering the crew to recover the object.

The helmet gave a hiss as it pressurised the interior. “D-David, I-I a-am g-going o-out,” Janet Fisher called out from inside the suit. She turned and pressed a pad on the airlock, bracing herself against the corner of the wall as the air hissed out into the vacuum. After a few moments, she clomped out onto the hull, her magboots making every step difficult.

Janet slowly made her way around the outside of the station, scanning the void for a trace of the object she had been sent to collect. She rounded a corner, then froze, as she saw a body floating by the hull. The form was wearing a red and grey hardsuit; grey where it appeared to have been seared and melted, half-formed rivulets had frozen on the hardsuits surface. Janet clicked her radio, “I-I f-found s-someone…” The response was swift. !#Someone? Bring them inside immediately, I am waiting in the airlock, do you require assistance?#! “N-No…I-I t-think t-they a-are u-unconscious…”

Janet pulled herself closer to the armoured body, gripping one of its ankles wither her hand, and began dragging it back towards the airlock.

Once inside the airlock, and over the gravity plates, the body dropped down with a thud, lying prone on the plating. A stern-looking man, with lined features hurried over, like Janet, he was also wearing a hardsuit, though his was black and red, rather than Janet’s pristine white. He crouched down and inspected the body, noting the seared metal over the left arm and abdomen of the hardsuit. He gripped the helmet in one hand, and twisted it to face him, so he could peer inside. All he could see was a heavy mask, and a few strands of hair escaping from around it. “T-They a-are b-badly i-injured, I-I w-will n-need t-to t-treat t-them.” Janet said quickly, wrapping her arms under the body’s shoulders and half-lifting, half-carrying them towards the door. David sighed and nodded, standing up and following behind her.

In the medical centre, Janet began the long process of removing the hardsuit; unclipping the various fasteners and clamps holding it together. After a few minutes, the suit peeled off, revealing a pallid, unconscious young woman beneath it.

David grimaced as he examined the woman; she was young, very young, and thin, she had a series of burns stretching across her torso and limbs, with a significant carbonised area across her midriff, oozing a clear fluid. Her hair was a deep cyan, but it was tangled, matted and filthy. She was shivering, slightly and uncontrollably, despite the blanket Janet quickly laid over her.

“S-She i-is i-in H-Hypovolemic s-shock…” Janet muttered to herself, as she applied bioglue and various other chemicals to the burns. “S-Someone g-get a-an I-IV d-drip.” A diminutive Tajara hurried over, dragging an IV drip and a pack of blood plasma. “H-He-er-e.” She stammered out, pushing them to Janet.

Janet expertly cleaned a patch of skin on the woman’s arm, and slid the needle into a vein.

A second man walked up to the window, peering into the recovery room with David. As he did so, the woman shifted, whimpering softly, and her eyes opened. She quickly tried to stand up, but a wave of nausea pressed her back down. David surreptitiously moved his hand to grip the gun in his holster. The second man snorted in disdain, “Yeah, because I am sure a half-naked chick can do so much damage”

David ignored him, keeping his gaze locked on the woman. “Janet, the moment she is cleared, she's going under armed guard."

Janet didn’t respond, and turned to pick up a piece of equipment from a table beside her.

Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, the woman threw herself out of the bed, pushed past David, and the other man, and ran barefoot through the medical bay, darting side to side as she approached the door.

David sprinted after her, a baton telescoping out of his hand, with a swift swipe; he slapped the woman across the back, knocking her to the floor. David grabbed a pair of cuffs from his belt, and grabbed the woman’s arms, cuffing them behind her back. Seizing her by the upper arm, he yanked her to her feet.”Janet, sedate her.” He said calmly as the woman struggled, trying to wrench her arm from his grip.

Janet hurried over; she had turned very pale, and slipped a syringe into the woman’s arm. The woman gave a short cry of pain, then her muscles loosen, and she slumped to the floor.

Moving her carefully, David placed her back on the bed, and turned to Janet, “She will need to be interr-“ The woman had sprang up again, shrugging off the small dose of sedatives, she sprinted across the medical bay, yanking at her cuffs. David chased after her, baton raised.

With a sharp motion, David brought the baton down across her shoulder, splitting the skin and driving her to the ground. The woman curled into a ball and groaned as blood trickled from her shoulder. Janet hurried over and gave her another dose of sedatives.

The two of them picked up the unconscious prisoner, and moved her into a nearby room, placing her down on the medical bed inside. David stepped back outside, though he stayed by the window, while Janet bandaged the woman’s shoulder.

“What is her status, Janet?” David asked, standing at the window.

Janet turned to face him, “I'm g-going t-to stay here until sh-she wakes up... sh-she's stable."

Behind Janet, the woman awoke with a start, yanking on her restraints with such fore that the skin of her wrists was torn, oozing blood onto the cuffs. “She is awake,” David observed, and Janet turned around quickly. The woman stared at Janet in terror, and shrank back against the wall behind the bed, still pulling on her cuffs.

Janet quickly pulls out another syringe of sedative, grabbing hold of the woman’s arm and slipping the needle into a vein. “No!” The woman managed to gasp out, before she slipped back into unconsciousness.

David frowns, “We need her awake at some point, Janet,” He was peering into the window at the unconscious woman. Janet responded as she wrapped gauze around the woman’s wrists, "N-not until sh-she calms d-down.”

David frowned again, “You think she will?” He tapped his blood covered baton against his leg, absentmindedly. Janet nodded, “E-Eventually. I will stay here to monitor her; you can go for now, David.”

David shook his head, “I would rather not, it is possible that she is dangerous.”

Janet frowned at him, "its c-clear that sh-she's in sh-shock. I've b-been g-giving h-her sedatives." The woman gave a low groan and shifted, her eyelids flickering open. Janet hurriedly turned around, gripping the woman’s chin and holding an eyelid open to inspect her pupils.

The woman yanked her head away from Janet, and cringed away, making a low whining noise. As she tilted her head up, Janet and David saw a long, deep scar across her throat twisting painfully as she swallowed. Janet says quietly to her, “I am not going to hurt you…” The woman pauses for a moment, then starts fiddling with her restraints again. Janet restrained a sigh as she quickly gives her a minute dose of sedatives. The woman gave a quiet whimper as her muscles loosen, she stops pulling at her restraints.

Janet grips the dazed woman’s head again, and brushes her hair away from her ears. Her ears were long and pointed, but something had folded them downwards, ripping open the back and tips of them. Janet saw pus oozing out of the badly infected cuts. Grimacing, she took a small pot of antiseptic cream from the table, and started wiping away the crusted pus around the wounds.

The woman hissed in pain, twisting her head. Janet quickly jabbed her with another dose of sedatives, and she quickly collapsed.

Janet gasped quietly as she wiped away the pus from the wounds, revealing long open sores. She took a small pair of scissors from her pocket and began slicing away at the woman’s hair, cutting a wide circle around each ear.

Janet leant back, pulling on a pair of gloves, then gripped the tip of the ear, and pulled it gently, trying to draw it straight. The ear twisted as she pulled it, but did not straighten, Janet frowned, and let go, and began wrapping a clean strip of gauze around the woman’s ears, wadding them against her head.

When she was finished, Janet leant back, watching the woman carefully as she slowly regained consciousness. Immediately, the woman frowned, and reached for her ears. Janet caught hold of her wrist, “L-Leave t-them b-be, t-they n-need t-to h-heal.” The woman’s head darted forwards, and her teeth snapped shut just short of Janet’s hastily withdrawn hand.

“Let. Go!” The woman moved back and curled up against the wall, staring at Janet fearfully. Janet slowly leant forwards, keeping her hand palm downwards, and reached for the woman’s lip. The woman stayed completely still, still staring at Janet. Using her thumb, Janet rolled back the woman’s lower lip, revealing a tattoo on the inside, reading, T-001.

Janet gasped quietly, and moved her hand to the top of the woman’s head. “Oh my god.... it's you...." She whispered quietly, trying to tilt the woman’s head.

The woman uncurled rapidly, lashing out with a violent kick at Janet’s chest. Janet jumped backwards, the kick just grazing her, and quickly pulled out another syringe of sedatives. David turned to look in through the window, “Janet, assistance required?" He asked, watching the woman shrink back against the wall.

Janet shook her head, "N-no, I'm f-fine." She leant forward and seized hold of the woman’s arm tightly, bringing the syringe round near the arm. The woman gave a short cry, “Don’t!” and Janet hesitated. For a moment, the two of them looked at each other, then the woman tried to tug her arm out of Janet’s grip. Janet moved quickly in response, slipping the syringe into the woman’s arm. Janet whispered quietly to her as she swayed, "Shhh.... just relax.... calm down...." The woman gave a short, quiet whimper and slumped over, unconscious again.

Janet took out a small strip of gauze and wrapped the bleeding puncture holes in the woman’s arm, then held onto her shoulder tightly as she began to stir. “Trinity One.” The woman flinched, pulling her shoulder out of Janet’s grip, before straining her cuffs again, ripping off a fingernail in her haste.

Janet jabbed her with the syringe again, and her muscles loosened as she slipped into unconsciousness. Carefully, she applies bioglue to the ripped nail bed, stemming the bleeding. Then she rolls up one of the woman’s eyelids, checking her pupils.

The woman groans softly, and her other eye opens, and she says very quietly, “Don’t. Kill.”

Janet carefully lets go of the woman’s head, “I-I a-am n-not g-going t-to k-kill y-you…” The woman flinched, twisting away from Janet, “Lie.”

Janet frowned, leaning slightly away from the woman, now that she had calmed, “I-It's n-not a-a l-lie. I-I w-wouldn't h-hurt y-you. N-Not w-when I-I k-know w-who y-you a-are." The woman flinched again, pressing back against the wall. “Lie.”

Janet sighed and spoke again, “T-Trinity O-One, I-I k-know y-you. B-But a-apparently y-you d-don’t r-remember m-me…”

The woman snapped at Janet, “Let. Go!” Janet turned to David, pressing down on the table to help herself stand up, “I th-think sh-she's s-stable enough, D-David." Janet turns away from the woman, then quickly spun around, sinking an injector into the woman’s leg. The woman struggled for a few moments, then slumped down against the wall. Janet opened the door and let the Tajara hurry in with a roller bed. After the woman was dressed in an oversized jumpsuit, and strapped down to the bed, Janet pulled the gurney out into the corridor, to David.

“D-David, I-I w-want t-to b-be t-there w-when y-you q-question h-her.” Janet said quickly, brushing some flakes of blood and pus from her labcoat. David frowned slightly, then asked, “Is she fit for solitary interrogation, or not?” He looked down at the dazed woman, with thick bandages around her ears. Janet shook her head, “N-no. I w-will be th-there w-with whoever is d-doing the interrogation."

David nodded, “Then follow me, please,”

The two of them dragged the roller bed out of the medical area, even as the woman struggled against her restraints. They moved quickly through the corridors, finally arriving at the brig.

The woman lashed out with one of her feet, striking Janet in the thigh. Janet staggered forwards with a clipped cry of pain, then turned around and strapped the woman’s legs down to the bed. David turned to another man, “Warden, observation, now.” Then pulled the roller bed into the interrogation room.

A quick flurry of movement, and a yelp of pain from the woman, had her transferred and buckled into a chair, and the roller bed folded up and placed in a corner. A third man walked in, wearing a blue and gold uniform, he leant up against the wall, next to Janet, and watched David carefully as he sat down in the chair opposite the woman.

David placed a small recorder on the table, “Interrogation conducted by David Riden, head of sec-" The door hissed open, and a tall woman rushed in, “Sorry I am late,” she muttered, her hair was drawn into a ponytail. She glanced around at the other heads of staff, then looked at the woman strapped into the chair. “You…Is that…” David looked at her, frowning, as did Janet and the other man. “Jennifer? Do you know something we don’t?” Jennifer stepped closer to the woman, who cringed back, “Maybe… I was working on another station…Which was raided…One of them caught me, and took her helmet off…I think this could be her…” Jennifer’s hand shot forwards, and seized hold of the woman’s jaw, twisting her head around, David asked, “Are you certain? She is a raider?” Jennifer shrugged, “I think it is her… But…She went against her orders…I think, she wouldn’t shoot people she was told to shoot, the raiders had to flee when reinforcements arrived… One of them, the leader, got caught by the crew…That was messy… If she had killed the prisoner when ordered…That wouldn’t have happened…”

The woman snapped her teeth at Jennifer, who quickly withdrew her hand, David thought for a moment, then spoke, “Thank you, Jennifer, that sheds new light on this,”

David coughed and reset the recorder, "Interrogation conducted by David Riden, head of security, NSS Aurora. Personnel present at interrogation: Janet Fisher, chief medical officer, Alistair Moreau, Captain, Jennifer Hynes, Research Director. NSS Aurora."

The woman started pulling on her cuffs again, trying to slip one of her thin wrists through the restraints, “Let. Go!” Janet quietly slipped a syringe of sedative out of her pocket. David looked at the woman and said, "M'am, please identify yourself." The woman flinched, and shrank back in the chair, “Don’t. Kill!”

Jennifer looked pained, “We aren’t going to kill you, you told me your name was Whisper, didn’t you? On the outpost?” Whisper rocked her chair from side to side, trying to tilt it over. David spoke slowly and calmly, staring at Whisper’s face, “M'am, if you comply, you will not be harmed. However, if you present yourself as a threat, force will be used in accordance." Whisper cowered, and stopped rocking her chair. David repeated himself, “M'am, please identify yourself.” She shook her head in incomprehension “Do. Not. Understand.”

David sighed, “Name, M’am.” He leant over the table towards her, “Answer the question,” Jennifer snapped at David, “I already told you her name! Stop tormenting the poor girl, look at her! She is terrified!” Jennifer stepped closer to Whisper again, who cringed away from her. The woman shouted into the small room, “Let. Go!” Janet frowned as she noticed a long, undulating scar on the woman’s neck, twisting painfully every time she speaks.

David tried a different tact, “M’am, do you know where you are?” Whisper shook her head violently. David sighs, “M'am, what is the last thing you remember?" Whisper glares at Jennifer, who is still stood close to her, then mutters, “Burnt...Thrown. Out. Of. Shuttle. Shot. To. Get. Off. Hull." Whisper stops as she notices the packet in the Captain’s hand, she stares at it hungrily. Alistair notices, and hurriedly stuffs the empty packet into his pocket.

David presses a hand to his ear, “Warden, please acquire food and a glass of water for the prisoner." He stands up and moves close to the other side of Whisper. Whisper leans away from him, her head almost touching Jennifer’s side. He asks quietly, "How long ago was that, m'am?" She shakes her head hurriedly, “Don't. Know." David nods, then asks another question, "M'am, are you able to explain your equipment?" Whisper shook her head again, breathing quickly. Jennifer gently places a hand on her shoulder, “You do not know how you managed to acquire military grade equipment, m'am?"

Whisper flinches, then lashes out with her foot, striking David in the calf. As he staggered back, Janet hurried past, pushing an injector against Whisper’s arm. The effect is immediate, Whisper slumps back in the chair, and her breathing slows. Jennifer gently sits her in the chair properly. “C-Calm d-down…T-That’s r-right…” Janet said quietly as she stepped back. The Captain watched Whisper carefully as David spoke, “Subject has been sedated, how long until she comes around, Janet?” Janet shrugged, “A-A m-minute o-or s-so, it's m-mostly t-to keep h-her f-from lashing out." The door hissed open, and an immensely tall man entered, carrying a few pieces of food and a glass of cola, he places them on the table, then stands by the door.

Whisper whimpers, then shakes her head, her eyes opening again, she stares at the food hungrily. Janet picks up the packet of jerky that the Warden had brought, then opens it and holds it near Whisper’s head. "A-are y-you h-hungry?" She asked, as Whisper’s stomach rumbled, "D-do you w-want th-this food, Whisper?"She shakes the packet slightly, watching Whisper’s reaction carefully. Whisper looks at the packet longingly, then at Janet, her face was full of mistrust. She shakes her head, “Will. Hurt!” She said loudly, still staring at the food. Janet shook her head, waving the packet closer, “I w-won't h-hurt y-you. I j-just want t-to know if y-you want t-to eat th-this." Whisper paused, then shook her head, “Don’t. Want.”

Janet pressed, picking up the glass, “W-What a-about t-this? D-do y-you w-want t-this?” Whisper shook her head violently, trying to shift herself away from Janet. The Captain slipped out of the room in the commotion. Jennifer talked softly to Whisper, “Come on…You need to eat…No one here is going to try and hurt you…” Whisper made a low hissing noise towards Jennifer, and leaned away from her.

The Captain re-entered the room, carrying a thick slab of roasted steak on a plate. He quickly set it down in front of Whisper, who stared at it. Janet looks down at Whisper, “D-Do you w-want th-that?" She asked; Whisper whimpered softly, then looked at Janet. After a moment, Whisper shook her head. "Are y-you s-sure? B-because it l-looks s-so good, I j-just might e-eat it m-myself." Janet said, Whisper stared at the meat, swallowing hard, then made a small sound of protest as Janet picked it up.

Janet wafted the smell towards Whisper. “Are y-you sure y-you don't w-want this?" Whisper hesitated, then lunged, lifting two of the chair legs from the ground as she reached for the food. Janet lifts it out of her reach, "Uh uh uh!"

Jennifer snapped at Janet, “Stop taunting her! The poor child is obviously hungry, just because she is afraid of you, doesn’t mean you can deny her food, uncuff her and let her eat it herself.” Janet sighed, then spoke, “I was trying to get her to trust me.” She turned to Whisper, “I'll g-give it t-to you, b-but you h-have t-to promise m-me something f-first. Y-you h-have to p-promise n-not to try t-to run." Whisper swallowed painfully, but quickly nodded. Alistair looked at her with concern, “Is she alright? Can she eat properly?” Janet nods slightly, then speaks again, “And I'll l-let you h-have this s-steak, and I'll s-stop g-giving y-you sedatives."

Whisper nodded violently at this, glancing at her puncture-covered arm. Janet places the plate on the table, and unbuckles Whisper from the seat, before removing her cuffs.

Immediately, Whisper snatches the steak off of the table and retreats into the corner of the room. Dropping the plate, she grabs the steak in both hands and rips large chunks out of it, eating it as quickly as she can. As soon as she had finished, she grabbed the packet of jerky from the table, and quickly emptied it. Next, she grabbed the glass of cola, and took a long gulp from it. Alistair smiled, “Well, she was hung-“ Whisper dropped the glass, falling to her knees, retching. Jennifer hurried over to her, placing a hand on her back.

Whisper gagged and threw up violently, chunks of jerky and steak visible in the translucent spray. Janet hurriedly picked up the glass, holding it out to Whisper, “D-Drink i-it s-slower, w-wash y-you m-mouth o-out.” She said, pushing the glass towards Whisper. Whisper threw the plastic glass away, gagging. The glass strikes against David’s chest, spraying him with cola. He sighs, “I will go get some water. He turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Whisper slowly climbed back to her feet, and Jennifer backed off, watching her closely. Scooping the vomit-splattered plate off of the ground, Whisper hurled it at Janet, before rushing towards the, now closed, door. She shoulder barged the door, bouncing off with a yelp of pain. She collided with the Warden, who wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her clear of the floor. Whisper bit and scratched the Warden, but to no effect, he effortlessly placed her back into the chair, snapping a pair of cuffs over her wrists.

David re-enters, baton raised, before retracting it. He placed the glass onto the table, this time it is full of water. He looks around, seeing Janet dabbing at a small cut on her cheek. “What happened?” Janet smiled slightly, “Sh-she got a b-bit rowdy."

David sighed again, “Mind if I…?” Janet nodded, and David picked up the glass again, stepping closer to Whisper. "M'am, you need water." Whisper stops struggling against her restraints and looks at David fearfully, licking her dry lips, “Give.” David moves the glass towards Whisper’s lips, tilting it to pour a trickle of water down her throat. Whisper’s eyes widen in surprise, and she yanks her head away, spilling most of the water down her front. David placed the glass back on the table, sighing, “M'am, here's how we'll do this. I will remove your handcuffs, so you may drink the water. However, I ask that you not act out against us, understood?"

Whisper hesitates, then nods. David deftly releases her handcuffs, and then passes her the glass of water. Whisper tilts the glass, and starts gulping down the water. David looked at her, and then said, “I advise small sips." Whisper slows down her drinking, staring at David mistrustfully.

Once she finished the glass, she slowly went to put it down on the table. David watched her movements carefully. Just before the glass touched the table, Whisper hurled it to the side, clattering against David’s chest. Whisper threw herself to the side, scooping up the roller bed from the floor, and holding it above her head threateningly.

David stares at Whisper, as everyone else in the room gives a start, he clicks out his baton and slowly moves around the table. "M'am, you have combat training, correct?" Whisper flinches, then nods. "Then you should know that this situation is not one conducive to you attempting to cause harm." Whisper doesn’t respond, she presses back against the wall. The Captain starts loading all the debris from the floor, onto a tray on the table. "I ask that you comply." David said calmly. Whisper said, "You. Will. Kill. Me!"

As David moved closer, Whisper snatched up the tray from the table, before bringing it down on David’s head. David staggers backwards with a grunt of pain, the Warden steps forward, blocking her other exit. Whisper presses back against the wall, whimpering quietly. "Don't. Kill!" Whisper shouted, still holding the roller bed high above her head. David turns to the Captain, he cups a hand around a bleeding gash on his forehead, “Requesting to move to medical, Sir, Yorrick can handle her.”

Alistair nods. “I will continue the interrogation on your behalf.” David nods, and leaves.

Janet moves up alongside Yorrick, holding her hands flat in front of her. Whisper shouted again, her entire body is shaking with the strain of holding the heavy roller bed in the air, “Back! No. More. Drugs! Don't. Hurt!"

Janet slows down, “W-We a-aren’t g-going t-to h-hurt y-you… W-we just n-need answers t-to questions."

“Lie!” Whisper pulled down her jumpsuit over her left shoulder, revealing a bandaged laceration stretching over the bone. She points to the door, which David had just left through, “Him!”

Janet takes another step forwards, “L-let m-me take a look at th-that...." Whisper sidesteps, scooping up the tray, and slamming it into Janet’s leg. “Janet!” Alistair cried, trying to block Whisper moving around the table, away from Yorrick. Whisper barges into him, expertly taking his feet out from under him, she drops down to her knees, and scrabbles at his ID. Janet steps around Yorrick and activates a flash next to Whisper’s head.

Whisper spasmed and collapsed to her side, optical nerve overloaded by the brilliant light. Janet hurriedly helped Alistair to his feet, while Yorrick walked around the table to Whisper.

Whisper threw herself at Yorrick’s legs, attempting to reach the tray behind him. Yorrick fell with a curse, but he angled himself so that he fell on top of Whisper. There was a loud scream of pain as all of Yorrick’s weight lands on Whisper’s leg. Yorrick hurriedly stood up at Whisper’s screech of pain. Whisper draged herself against the wall, and Jennifer hurried over to her.

Whisper’s ankle was swollen and red, victim to the circumstances of Yorrick’s fall. Whisper was breathing very quickly; her face had turned pallid, and was slick with sweat. Janet quickly walked over, her face paled as she saw the extent of the damage. Janet knelt down next to Whisper, bating away her feeble attempts of protest, and slapped a sedative injector against her leg. Whisper’s movements slowed, then ceased as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Alistair coughed, shaking his head, “I had better go alert Central… This is going to be a long day…” He left the room. Yorrick gently picked up Whisper and set her on the table. Janet gently lifted the joint and rotated it, “A-A b-bad s-sprain…” She muttered, beginning to apply a tube of anti-inflammatory gel to the swelling. After she had finished, Jennifer wrapped a strip of clean gauze around the area, and Yorrick picked her up again, setting her down in the chair, with her foot raised onto a stool beside her.

The three of them stood back as Whisper began to stir. Immediately, Whisper pulled at her restraints, her gaze passing over the three of them as she tried to stand. “No…Stay sat down, you have hurt yourself.” Yorrick said calmly, taking the seat opposite her. Whisper raised her cuffed hands and wiped at her eyes, sniffing quietly. Janet looked at her guiltily, “I-I d-didn't w-want t-to h-hurt y-you. I-I'm s-sorry." Whisper sniffs again, blinking quickly; she swallows painfully, then says, “Let. Go.”

Janet steps closer to Whisper, leaning in towards her head. "I won't, now, because you've already hurt me with that tray." Janet says, very quietly, there is a long gash on her leg, where Whisper had whacked her with the tray. Whisper responded loudly, “Don’t. Kill.” Jennifer watched the pair of them carefully. Janet spoke again, still very quietly, "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you keep trying to hurt me."

Whisper cringed away from Janet, “Lie.” Whisper began to babble, trying to shift herself away from Janet, "Don't. Want. To. Die. Don't. Want. To. Die. Don't. Want. To. Die." Janet sighs quietly, then says quietly and sternly, "Trinity one. Why would I kill you?"

Whisper jerked away from Janet, rocking the chair onto two legs, Janet darted forwards, sinking a sedative injector into her neck. "Shhh.... calm down, trinity.... Do you recognize my voice?" Janet caught hold of the chair, and brought it back down onto two legs. “Don’t…” Whisper murmured her lips barely moving. "T-001. T-001, this is Doctor Fisher. I want you to give me your callsign.” Whisper nodded slowly, her eyes were half-closed, "Trinity. Zero. Zero. One. Whisper." Yorrick frowned, leaning forward slightly, “Unity? Is that her last name?” Janet froze for a moment, then nodded quickly, “Y-Yes, i-it i-is, h-her f-full n-name i-is W-Whisper U-Unity.” Janet turned back to Whisper, her voice lowering, “Whisper. Do you recognize me? Who am I?" she asked. Whisper responded sluggishly, slurring her words “Doctor.”. Janet reached down to her belt, lifting up a small bottle, with a long nozzle, she pressed it to Whisper’s neck, releasing some medicine into her system, Whisper’s pallor retreats slightly.

“What is your unit?" Janet asked, placing a hand on Whisper’s shoulder. Whisper mutters back, "Unit, seven, alpha, two, nine, four." Janet nods slightly, leaning in closer to the prisoner. “Syndicate designation. Number for uplinks." Janet turned slightly as the Captain re-entered the room, he gave her a quick nod, then leant against the wall. Whisper murmured to Janet, “Omega, six, nine, four." Janet nodded, “Rank.”

Whisper responded quietly, “EVA Specialist. Designation: Lower.” Janet nodded again, her face was tight, "Good. Subject T-001, look at me." Whisper tilted her head to look at Janet. Janet brushes some of Whisper’s filthy hair away from her face, "This is Doctor Fisher, giving orders. Do you acknowledge?"

Whisper nodded and responded quietly, “Acknowledged.” Janet nodded, taking hold of one of Whisper’s ears, she inspected it, while still talking softly. “Do not attempt to run. It will only make things worse for you. Do not continue to attack personnel. Answer their questions, with short, vague answers. Do not give details. Claim that you do not know them."

Whisper holds very still, murmuring “Acknowledged,” As Janet inspects her ears. “Tell them rank, callsign, things like that, but do not acknowledge to them that you know who I am." Whisper blinked slowly, Janet nodded, then kept speaking, "Both of our lives are at stake here, Whisper. Do you understand?"

Whisper spoke quietly, “Yes.” Janet nodded, then said a few final words. “Good. Now cooperate with them. To an extent… This is Doctor Fisher. Orders have been relayed. Confirm that orders will be followed."

Whisper muttered, “Confirmed.”

Janet let go of Whisper’s ear, and straightened up, “Sh-she said sh-she's r-ready t-to cooperate n-now. As l-long as y-you d-don't harm her, sh-she'll cooperate." Whisper looked over at Alistair, her eyes, though still wide, weren’t quite as fearful. Janet sliped out of the door, closing it behind her. Whisper slowly moves her gaze over the remaining three people; she looked pathetically thin in her oversized jumpsuit. She crossed her arms across her chest and shivered slightly.

Jennifer stepped closer to Whisper, crouching next to her, and taking hold of her chin. Whisper doesn’t resist as Jennifer tilts her head to the side, inspecting the long scar across her throat. After a few moments, Jennifer stood back up, and, without saying a word, slipped off her lab coat and wrapped it around Whisper. Whisper looked at Jennifer, and tilted her head. “Why?” She asked loudly, watching Jennifer closely. Jennifer’s face turned slightly pink, “You were cold…And you look like someone I know…And you are hurt…” Jennifer’s muttering trailed off, and she rubed the back of her neck. She quickly stepped back, though she stayed within arm’s reach.

Alistair opened his mouth to speak, but Whisper overrode him, “Callsign. Whisper. Designation. EVA. Specialist. Unit. Seven. Alpha. Two. Nine. Four. Syndicate. Contact. Number. Omega. Six. Nine. Four.” Whisper’s torrent of words halted, and she looked at Alistair with wide eyes. “Cooperating. Not. Attempting. To. Run.” Whisper looked fearfully at Yorrick, “Not. Kill?” The big man shifted uncomfortably, before responding. “Unity… Sorry about your ankle…It was accidental, and no, no one is going to kill you, or hurt you, especially while I am around.” Whisper looked at him for a long moment, then nods slowly.

Alistair coughed quietly, “Miss Unity… Under Central Command orders, you are to be taken to the NSS Odin for processing, cooperation will be key. I have put in a good word for you, and it might, just, get you out unscathed, but you will need to work fully with the officials, is that clear?” Whisper blinked rapidly, looked down at the table, then nodded.

Jennifer tentatively patted her on the shoulder, “I will vouch for you, you are… Well… Too nice, to fail their tests.”

Whisper looked alarmed, “Too. Nice. Bad?”

Jennifer makes a soothing gesture, “no no no, too nice is good here. Very good.” Jennifer rubbed Whisper’s back gently, looking down at the young woman. Whisper twisted around, to see what was on her back, and Jennifer withdrew her hand.

Alistair sighed, “Central will be sending a shuttle to collect you momentarily, we had better get you to the arrivals area.” Whisper nodded, and then held her cuffed hands out hopefully. Alistair shook his head, “We cannot remove your cuffs at this point, Miss Unity.” Whisper ‘s arms dropped, and her head drooped. Jennifer carefully unwound the straps holding Whisper to her seat, then helped her to stand. Whisper leaned heavily on Jennifer, keeping weight off of her twisted ankle.

“Are you sure you can’t take the cuffs off of her? It isn’t like she can run far, and it is going to be difficult for her to walk to arrivals without her arms for support.” Jennifer said to Alistair, supporting Whisper. “And precisely how long until the shuttle arrives? We might have time to clean her up before the officials get their claws on her.” Alistair smiled slightly, looking at Whisper’s filthy hair. “We have around ten minutes, if you wish to get her clean; however, she will need to remain cuffed, in case she surprises you.” Jennifer sighed, then nodded to Alistair. Yorrick stepped to the side to allow Jennifer to guide Whisper out of the room.

Whisper leant heavily against Jennifer as they left the brig, Jennifer could hear quiet whines of pain and discomfort whenever she was forced to move her ankle, or her ears brushed against Jennifer.

They quickly made it to a bathroom, and Jennifer ushered Whisper inside. “Okay…” Jennifer turned on a tap, and scooped up a handful of water. “Okay…Whisper, hang your head over the sink, I am going to try and clean your hair.” Whisper tilted her head, then nodded, and held her head over the sink. Jennifer squirted a generous helping of hand wash into her hand, then poured it over the back of Whisper’s head. Whisper made a small noise of discomfort, but stayed still.

Jennifer rinsed out Whisper’s hair again, causing the water to turn grey; after a few more rinses and severe scrubbing, the water finally ran clear. Jennifer pulled a comb from her pocket, and began pulling out the knots in Whisper’s hair; several had to be cut out.

After a few minutes, Whisper’s hair was at least the right colour, instead of several shades darker than it should have been; and Jennifer tied it into a rope behind her head. Next, Jennifer got a small cloth, and wiped Whisper’s face clean, revealing a very pale complexion, along with dark crossing lines over her skin. Jennifer stared at them for a moment, before Whisper asked, “What. Is? Why. Looking. At. Me?”

Jennifer shook herself, and then muttered, “This is eerie…” Whisper looked at Jennifer, uncomprehending, and just nodded.

Once Whisper’s face and hair were relatively clean, Jennifer led her out of the bathroom, leaving the sink clogged with knots of blue hair, and led her towards arrivals.

Alistair was stood at arrivals, conversing with a heavily armoured man, Jennifer could see several others wandering around the docking area. As soon as he spotted Whisper, the armoured man strode towards, ignoring the Captain’s words as he clamped a hand around Whisper’s upper arm.

Whisper gave a short cry of pain as she was wrenched about; she staggered and fell as she put weight on her damaged ankle. The man instantly bent down and yanked her back to her feet, ignoring the shriek of pain as her ankle dragged along the ground.

“Let go of her!” Jennifer yelled, slapping a hand against the man’s chest. The effect was immediate, the man collapsed spasmodically as an electric charge swept through his conductive suit. The other armoured soldiers hurried forwards, then slowed as Alistair shouted at them, “Halt! Immediately!”

The downed soldier slowly clambered to his feet, armour circuits still sparking from the overload. Jennifer pulled Whisper close to herself, turning slightly to hold the shaking girl away from the soldier. Alistair stepped very close to the soldier, and spoke quietly, “You are not, to use force again, Miss Unity is peaceful and cooperative; not only that, but now she is scared, terrified even, after all we have done to calm her. This breach in protocol will be reported to your superior, Lieutenant, have I made myself clear? Miss Unity is not to be harmed.” The soldier didn’t respond, he turned to face Jennifer and Whisper, “You will come with us,” He said blandly, his visored face turned towards Whisper.

Whisper cowered away from the soldier, she pressed back towards Jennifer; who pushed Whisper behind her. “She has never harmed anyone, you may only take her, on the proviso that I go as well, to ensure her safety and comfort. She has various medical needs that will need seeing to.” The soldier didn’t move for a moment, then asked, “Rank?” Jennifer smiled slightly, slipping off her gloves, “Research Director,”

The soldier paused again, then nodded silently. Jennifer turned to Whisper, “Come on, Whisper…Follow me, I will make sure they don’t hurt you.” Whisper looked at Jennifer with wide eyes, then reluctantly followed her into the shuttle.

The soldier turned to face the Captain again, “Summary? ...Sir.” Alistair frowned at the petulance in the tone, then said, “She was difficult at the start, not surprising really, she thought we were going to kill her; now, she has calmed significantly. She seems to have grown attached to Jennifer,” The soldier nodded, “Medical status? Ears are wrapped, ankle seems damaged, scar on neck.” Alistair nodded gravely, “Whoever she worked for, or rather, was owned by, didn’t treat her well, by the look of her ears, I would have said that they were damaged from repeated use of ill-fitting hard suits; They were infected, badly so, I was surprised that she could think, with that sort of constant pain.” The soldier nodded, and his stance softened slightly, as he glanced at the shuttle. “I will convey this information to the officials given custody of her.”

The soldiers climbed into the shuttle, sealing the door behind them. Alistair watched as the ion thrusters began to glow, blue sparks racing across the surface of the station. In a few moments, the shuttle arced out of sight. Alistair sighed, and walked back into the main station.

[Rusty Shackleford]

Ooooh, ooh ooh ooh, do you still have the nuke ops orphanage one?

[Gollee]

Oh, uh, maybe.

[Thundy]

I had this one that I was writing that I could submit. Theres a lot more to it, so, with Nursies blessing, I could write the rest for you?

 

http://aurorastation.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=17&t=1124&p=9966#p9966

[Thundy]

http://aurorastation.org/forums/viewtopic.php?f=71&t=4820&p=48114#p48114

 

Got you the beginning of an actual story. Will include many well known characters and such as time progresses and I post more. Hopefully you find it useable.

[Rechkalov]

Right!

Apologies for leaving you guys hanging here - I've taken to PMing with a couple of other involved enthusiasts, and forgot about the thread responses.

So happy to hear of another entry! Always grand to have more things to pick from.

In a way of explanation, the two -now three- entries in this thread are all we presently have completed. There are more on the way, but we are in the phase of discussing their details and general feel and so forth, so that leaves us with hypothetical seven entries, and whoa! given their average span, we have a solid book-worth of a read already.

Nonetheless, we're still in the phase of gathering the material (which will then be run through Ricky to be broken down into individual pages and panels etc. and then through myself, so there's a lot of work/time of seeming stagnation ahead), so have patience and have faith! I'll make sure to let you all know when we are able to make another step.

Meanwhile, do not despair, as there is no time pressure - and for those still considering, don't hesitate to jump on! The more the more diverse, thus more fun.

[Jennalele]

I have a story inbound once I can find it; if I can find it.

[hivefleetchicken]

I have lots of stories, but they're all just about me killing lots of people or making all of medbay talk in old english on threats of a lynching if they do not comply.

[Mofo1995]

I got a story about my character, it's right below.

Now this is the story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down, now just take a moment and sit right there I'll tell you a story of how I became a cultist on a station called Aurora. In Lower Mendell City, born and raised, at the playground is where I spent most of my days. Chillin out maxin relaxin all cool when a couple of lings who were up to no good started killin people in the neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my mom got scared and said "You're moving with your auntie and uncle on Odin." I begged and pleaded with her day after day but she packed my duffel bag and sent me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket. I put my PDA on and said, 'I might as well kick it'. First class, yo this is bad Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass. Is this what the people of Aurora living like? Hmmmmm this might be alright. But wait I hear they're prissy, player complaints, all that Is this the type of place that they just send this cool cat? I don't think so. I'll see when I get there. I hope they're prepared for the cultist of Aurora. Well, the shuttle landed and when I came out there was a dude who looked like a cop standing there with my name out. I ain't trying to get arrested yet, I just got here, I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared. I whistled for a shuttle and when it came near The license plate said NUKE and it had c-20rs in the mirror, If anything I could say that this shuttle was rare, but I thought 'Nah, forget it' - 'Yo, home to Aurora.' I pulled up to the Station about 7 or 8, and I yelled to the OPs 'Yo home convert ya later' I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there to sit on my rune as the Cultist of Aurora.

[Rechkalov]

Jenna: That's great to hear! Best of luck in your search, it would be a delight to cooperate with you on this!

Hive: Only partially true - you've made it blatantly obvious in the InkWriter thread that you are extremely resourceful in your writing beyond pre-head smashing RP. To the point where you can made an androids walk home a most touching adventure.

Mofo: That's... actually much better than many "I have a story about my character" stories.

[hivefleetchicken]

pre-head smashing RP

 

That's the best part, why go beyond it?

Ah, oh well. A shame I have no comedic or fantastical stories that don't end in tragedy.

And we all know what I mean by tragedy