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  • Subject: I wrote this sci-fi story based on halo
Subject: I wrote this sci-fi story based on halo
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Hey guys,

I know this is kinda off-topic, but I wrote this sci-fi story based on Halo. It's for english class, the teacher wants me to make a short story on basically anything, so this is what I'm handing in. What do you guys think? Would appreciate any constructive comments.


The Vindictive Crusader

I had been asleep, no more than a moment before, and was now staring blankly at the grey metallic ceiling, with the room’s florescent light falling delicately between the tiles in my resting quarters. Dreams were something of the past, when we had time to relax and leave our worries. Those times had come and gone, and now I was lying on my back on a bed, waiting.
The Vindictive Crusader was home to over three hundred at a time, many of which were rotational. It was one of the key Capitalships in the royal space fleet, important enough to be granted the honorable status of having a name, rather than a number, but not too much as to be allowed to stay behind the frontlines. We were at war, and every operational warship was in use at sometime or another.
The blue “:” of the LED clock pulsed counting each second, sixty in a minute, sixty of those in an hour and so forth. It read 06:15, meaning it was time to get up and to the bridge ASAP. These uniform blue clocks on the ship were the only things out here that could give us some perspective of how to have a normal routine, and to not collapse with exhaustion mid-shift. 06:15 meant time to be alert, while 11:30 meant fifteen for lunch, and 07:30 meant the Captain was taking my place as acting Admiral for the night. Without these schedules, our bodies would get some confused that out here in space, we would always think it was night. A black vista with billions of sprinkled stars did not mean night, only that we were off target from our patrol route. Bright sunlight did not mean day, only that we were too close to a star, and that our coordinates were flawed, and that we should go down to maintenance and double check the calculations.
I donned the Admiral’s robes, turned out the lights and closed the door, remembering the past hour’s orders. We had entered subspace at 06:00, and were scheduled to re-entry by 06:20, down to the last millisecond. The slightest miscalculation would result in at least a million light-year margin of error. This was why we had a computer do it, and not even the most reliable of timekeepers.
The hall to the Bridge Observation Level 2 was long and somewhat intimidating for anyone baring a rank lower than Captain. The walls were white, and the floor a glass rubber-like texture that was as smooth as it was rough and supportive. The door was air-locked, as was every door in the Capitalship, insuring that any breach in the ship was contained, and did not spread.
Subspace was a technique of space travel that dramatically revolutionized our perception of the universe, simply needing coordinates of a distant planet, in order to fly to it in less time than it took for an average “Brother” to get to work. The necessary subspace thrust capacitor seemed to defy science and even science-fiction, disproving the thought that time-space could not be ripped. In fact, it could. The capacitor allowed for a ship of almost any size to actually tear a whole and fly through into what is known as subspace, a space with no stars, and no lights, and it was practically not even our known dimension. It could cut and sew time and space countless times, and allow for trips that typically took lifetimes, only a few minutes, mostly for calculations so that re-entry did not result in the ship crashing into a planet or star, or falling into a black hole. The invention revolutionized our known kingdom of three inhabitable planets, and before long, the empire stretched to the farthest reaches of what is known space. It is a truly awesome power to wield, and many question whether the great known god had some miraculous involvement with the capacitor’s invention.
I swiped my white keycard, baring a black memory band, and on the opposite side, standard-issue identification information. The picture wasn’t that good. The photographer had taken nearly two hundred photographs before reaching mine, and they we were both very tired after a hard day’s work. The lighting and focus was off, but hardly anyone actually cared. Well, I know I didn’t, and still don’t.
The bridge door opened, and I walked through and down the observation walkway, to the main window, curved reinforced glass to fit the ship’s unique shape. Outside the five inch glass was what is known as subspace. Dead silent, dead black, even the sounds of the engines are silenced by the inter-dimensional space. It was as if we were a ship at sea, traveling through smooth still waters leaving only the slightest ripples of our presence. It was best that way. We would travel as quietly as an oversized veteran Class A Capitalship could travel.
“Good morning Admiral Chomiak.” The young Captain Staras arose from his seat, beside the wall of the observation deck. He and one other, Captain Criceto were the only two permitted to be on the observation deck of the two decked open bridge command room. Those two, and perhaps maintenance. As Admiral, there were frequent uprisings, therefore the rules were kept strict, and while I was not kept in a bubble-shield as was the Lord of the High Council, I had personal bodyguards. The “maintenance workers” with M.H.G. Hamastras concealed under their robes, set for stun, and never set for kill. The young Captain continued with his briefing.
“We will be exiting out of subspace in 60 seconds, entering the Cricetinae system.” I nodded. “Thank you Captain. Be seated, and take us into orbit when ready.” The blue LED above the Observation window pulsed fifty-times before the subspace capacitors began to power down, switching power to the engines. The glass gave a humming sound it shook from the violent vibrations. Then there was a sharp crackle of splitting of time-space and the sound barrier, a great explosion of sound from the silence of subspace. All the stars lighted themselves, as if the ship had always been there, expect with a great black curtain over it. The lights in the room flickered off, then came back on, and we were there.
The Cricetinae system, one of the most marvelous systems in entire universe. Being Admiral in the Royal Space Fleet, we were rarely given opportunities to enjoy the view. To sit back and watch as all of the universe and the Great Known God’s master plan unraveled itself right here, at the edge of space, as a great band of bluish yellow light stretched across the window, the edge of a galaxy on the furthest corners of the universe. Intergalactic matter collided, leaving behind a beautiful lightshow of which no fireworks show had ever produced. It was a glorious sight, beyond description and words, and what a marvel and honor it was to be here to see it.
I was taken out of my dreams as usual, by distressing business. Captain Criceto approached. “Admiral Chomiak. We have just received a distress signal and coordinates for a civilian Class B Frigate on the other side of the planet’s orbit. Our radar is picking up a Tamarisk Cruiser. It must have warped in, judging by its lack of interstellar traces. They are requesting immediate aid, and possible extraction.” I turned away from the window, looking into his eyes, letting him know that he had disrupted my beautiful moment. “How many on board Captain?” “The report remarks of no less than one hundred sixty-five souls. Your course of action sir?” One hundred sixty-five...The tamarisks never engaged our warships directly, always using guerilla warfare tactics to strike civilian ships when they were most vulnerable. They were a species of vicious vermin. Cowards, it seemed that the more you attacked, the more of them that appeared out of the woodwork. We would patrol empty space, until there was a trace of these hostiles, and would follow their trace until they led us to key facilitative planets, where we would then launch all-out assaults. The end result was always the same. They would in-turn flee, to fight another day, and to strike another unarmed vessel.
“Admiral Chomiak, we are awaiting your course of action.” Dozens of eyes starred up at me, from the lower decks of the room, waiting, readying the COMs to communicate to the defense units in the Capitalship. With one click of a button the entire ship’s fleet could be engaged. The power was extraordinary, but bared many responsibilities. “Disengage the sub-drivers and switch 110% power to the primary engines and Hamtaro emergency thrusters. Bring us to contact range of the signal.” No Tamarisk would ever get away. Their fighting would end here, and not one more civilian frigate would be victim to this particular cruiser. The Captain turned to issue more detailed orders, filled with complex coordinates and numbers. They were the brains on this ship, dealing solely with the specifics. However, they lacked commonsense on the larger scale, unable to balance all of the requirements of being an Admiral. They still had much to learn, and were not ready yet for my retirement, so you could say I was somewhat trapped in my position. Rather than being the best fit, I was the only fit that could be considered for the Capitalship.


[Edited on 05.17.2007 2:44 PM PDT]

  • 05.17.2007 2:42 PM PDT
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The ship flew into orbit and just below the critical power usage limit. Our alert was in the yellow, marking that we were still uncertain of what we were getting into. The ship had not seen combat for many months, serving only as a patroller of space since it had received veteran status, one year in the field. It had fought through many battles, and many ships had sacrificed themselves to protect this ship. During one conflict, our ships exchanged salvos with enemy cruisers. In it, the Relentless Peregrine cruiser had flown directly in front of the Vindictive Crusader, saving it from certain critical damage. However, the act had taken the lives of the crew on board the ship, and the small cruiser itself broke apart beyond repair, the airlocks failed, and it floated off with other debris from the conflict. While neither the ship nor its crew were ever recovered, we appreciate their sacrifice with our every victory.
As the ship orbited the planet, we all waited, hoping to find something alive on the other side of the planet. Be it civilians or tamarisks, it did not matter. Either way, we wished for bloodshed. We had seen recordings of great battles that will never be forgotten. There was a senseless rage in the eyes of the tamarisks. Drool dripping from their great maws as they viciously slaughtered the greatest war heroes. They were a species of no reason, no logic, and therefore no place to be fated other than in the pit of extinction. We were all on this ship for one purpose. To preserve our society, and to exterminate a threat that could never be turned through commonsense. The High Council informs us that the war is nearing an end, and that we are pushing the tamarisk off out of our known universe. We were taught fairly early on never to question the word of the High Council. Officers would kill any who showed uncertainty in the universal cause. But that was only exercised during the first few months of the war. Its bad publicity, from dozens killed by their officers led to its removal.
The Frigate finally came in view, as did the enemy cruiser. Captain Criceto approached with a more in-depth report. “The frigate has been critically damaged, forbidding it to make an escape. There are reports of tamarisk boarding parties onboard. The civilians are lightly armed with assorted makeshift weaponry.” “Makeshift?” “Mostly kitchen utensils, it’s a desperate situation.” “Very well. Launch all available Interceptors to engage the Tamarisk cruiser. Move us into boarding position. You will temporarily responsible for the elimination of the cruiser. Captain Staras will join me in leading the first boarding parties.” It was a surgical strike with no hesitation. Fight our way in, protect any surviving civilians, then fight back to the extraction point. We were going to take the fight to them and it had been a long time.

  • 05.17.2007 2:42 PM PDT
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Pretty good, although I noticed a few grammatical errors here and there. Other than that great story, I noticed that you couldnt really tell if the Admiral was with the Humans or the Covenant....I give it a 9 out of 10

  • 05.17.2007 3:37 PM PDT
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Not to be a dick but this doesn't belong here.
It was pretty good though.

  • 05.17.2007 4:45 PM PDT

Not bad. Very intersting. I would gice it an A

  • 05.17.2007 5:43 PM PDT