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The Volunteers: Preview
Oct. 19th, 2007 03:46 pmInspired by actual enemy dialogue from a mission in the Rikti War Zone. Unfinished as of yet, so this is something of a preview. Enjoy!
It was not that Smr'Talek had been taken in by all the latest propaganda back on the homeworld. See the universe! Fight Earth terrorism! Pay for college! But the truth was that he did need the money: his folks had threatened to cut off his tuition and incidentals if he continued to avoid settling on a dedicated programme of study. Three years in and his records still read, "Specialisation: Undecided".
Smr'Talek got the distinct impression that the four of them thought he would never amount to anything. Well, he would show them.
Currently, he was regretting that decision. He certainly was not afraid of being killed in combat; he was an adolescent as far as Rikti went and as everyone knew, Adolescents: Immortal. But when the recruiters had promised plenty of excitement and exotic Earth locales, what they specifically neglected to mention was that by 'exotic Earth locales' what they really meant was 'less-than pristine storage facility' and by 'excitement' they meant 'monotonous guard duty'.
Smr'Talek admitted that it could have been a lot worse; the soldier instructors gleefully threatened him and his fellow recruits with sewer reconnaissance missions which he suspected were, in reality, simply a way to deal with the Army's problem children. That admission, however, did nothing to change the fact that it was still boring as hell.
"Guard Duty: Boring," Smr'Talek lamented to an Advanced Drone. The Drone, by contrast, did nothing save make that buzz-whoosh noise that Drones usually make. It regarded him impassively, like a wise Chief Priest who says nothing when confronted with a great dilemma. Or rather, like a stupid Advanced Drone with no mind of its own. With a sigh of resignation, Smr'Talek lumbered off to commiserate with someone with more than a collection of wires for brains.
It was not that Smr'Talek had been taken in by all the latest propaganda back on the homeworld. See the universe! Fight Earth terrorism! Pay for college! But the truth was that he did need the money: his folks had threatened to cut off his tuition and incidentals if he continued to avoid settling on a dedicated programme of study. Three years in and his records still read, "Specialisation: Undecided".
Smr'Talek got the distinct impression that the four of them thought he would never amount to anything. Well, he would show them.
Currently, he was regretting that decision. He certainly was not afraid of being killed in combat; he was an adolescent as far as Rikti went and as everyone knew, Adolescents: Immortal. But when the recruiters had promised plenty of excitement and exotic Earth locales, what they specifically neglected to mention was that by 'exotic Earth locales' what they really meant was 'less-than pristine storage facility' and by 'excitement' they meant 'monotonous guard duty'.
Smr'Talek admitted that it could have been a lot worse; the soldier instructors gleefully threatened him and his fellow recruits with sewer reconnaissance missions which he suspected were, in reality, simply a way to deal with the Army's problem children. That admission, however, did nothing to change the fact that it was still boring as hell.
"Guard Duty: Boring," Smr'Talek lamented to an Advanced Drone. The Drone, by contrast, did nothing save make that buzz-whoosh noise that Drones usually make. It regarded him impassively, like a wise Chief Priest who says nothing when confronted with a great dilemma. Or rather, like a stupid Advanced Drone with no mind of its own. With a sigh of resignation, Smr'Talek lumbered off to commiserate with someone with more than a collection of wires for brains.
