I want to create a story thread that has great emphasis on actual plot development and continuation, the other thread currently under this forum appeared to be going absolutely nowhere at all and seemed like a way for sciforums members to chat under a slightly different alias. I haven't read enough cyberpunk, but I do have a basic idea of the genre, and after I'm finished dictating rules that will be strictly enforced to prevent dilution and degeneration of a true storyline. Each post must clearly have a beginning, a middle and an end, as if it had been written as a chapter of a book Posts that take the storyline in a radical direction will first recieve a warning, and if the post has not been significantly altered by the author 24 hours later it will be deleted No new characters are allowed to be created. Work with what I give you. Try to use proper grammar and spelling, however no enforcement of this rule is necessary if you aren't very good at either If you have an idea for the plot, run it by me (on this thread) first. My being the creator of this thread and the moderator of Scifi gives me the power to reject your idea if I don't feel it is good enough, if you don't like it, don't complain, there's nothing you can do. Post elsewhere. Prologue There's a reason feudal sounds so much like futile. In the sprawling city of New York great buildings hundreds of stories tall named starscrapers by their architects house the very pinnacle of the upper class of the whole of the decaying human race. These buildings are miniature states in themselves, the power that the elites controlling them have enabled them to dictate whatever law they see fit to enforce upon the civilians that have taken up residence in the thousands of apartments that compose the middle levels. These people were once part of the lower class of what was america, a nation now divided over warring parties in the burned corpse of the old capital buildings in Washington D.C. They were the lucky ones, if they had remained on the streets of crumbling New York they would have almost certainly been robbed and then murdered by the lawless masses and their leaders. Thus, feudalism reigns supreme under the guise of anarchy, both with the lower class and the "starscrapers." A nameless group of politicians from the still-civilized Europian Confederacy recovering from The Massacre has deemed that the suffering in America has gone on for long enough, and they have decided that since the Overlords controlling the rioting masses refuse any political negotians that only an invasion can restore hope to the people's lives. They began their operation by either comandeering the remaining american satellites in orbit or by destroying them, then the Europeans quickly realized that a land or sea invasion would be impossible, the Overlords had already collectively anticipated this, and had positioned the whole of the US Navy on both coasts in addition to building a small but effective missile defense system that could also easily destroy a majority of any aerial convoy that would attempt to penetrate their skies. The only option remaining was to come in from above. A plan was hatched. The Leonid meteor shower was due to arrive in just over eight months and a massive solar flare had been predicted as well, the entire continent of North America would be without radar capability and if spaceships were to penetrate the atmosphere then they would merely look like meteors to any observer, until they were low enough to be out of danger from the AA missile sites. The order was given and augmented troopers were organized, only the best were selected to go aboard the old spacefleet that had been rusting in and around the orbit of Mars, to keep them from falling into the wrong hands. Their systems were hacked rather easily (the technology was at least forty years old) and they were hidden on the dark side of the moon. The first wave of the troopers, the wave that would destroy all of the defenses on the eastern coast, were loaded onto mining craft and sent to Earth's lone spacial dance partner, where they waited anxiously for the order to come from the C.E. 1 Nicknamed "Grendel" by his friends, the young Jon Ugo was a sight to behold. His once-frail teenage body had been taken by the nanodoctors after his enlistment in the army and had for four months labored over his body, their syringes brimmed with glowing liquids and their robotic counterparts seemed to grin (to him at least) whenever they inserted new machinery or silicon into a great majority of his bodyparts. When the equipment had been installed Grendel could access the whole of the Internet from his very pupils, he could lift a storage tank full of concrete with merely his hands and he could leap three stories high. All in all, he made the perfect Augmented Soldier for the C.E. He was one of their few successes, 70% of the recipients of the nanotechnologies rejected their new mechanical muscles and would die moments after they had first been implanted from their immune system going berserk. As a result, his friends tended to be normal troops who had worked their way into the army the hard way: by passing strenuous intelligence exams and forcing their bodies into the best shape that they could be in without added hormones. Grendel now stood on the loading deck of one of the Landing Ships from The Massacre, surrounded by hundreds of much-shorter counterparts, each bathed in crimson light. Except for the AG's soldiers in the C.E's army wore light but powerful armor, their faces were covered by black, reflective material (except for their mouths), their shoulders and chest were strapped with gray armor that could absorb a great deal of bullet rounds without being punctured. Las beams could not be deflected, one shot from one of those and you'd be dead before you could swear from being hit. He had a great view of the stars, he was next to one of the only windows, and below the great crescent of Earth grinned at him, the lights of the cities on the east coast glimmering like the ripples of ocean waves under a full moon. His thick fingers clutched the massive body of his primary gun (there were light las cannons installed on his shoulder plates); Grendel had never seen combat before, but he was young and eager to experience the thrill of the kill. His eyes followed the very top of the tallest starscraper as it passed above the descending Landing Ship, he even thought that through one of the windows he could see a young child following the shadow of the immense spacecraft as it began its descent into the skies of earth, along with thousands of streaming companions. For, around the hull of the ship the meteor shower was intense, it looked as if a rainstorm of light had intensified to biblical proportions, the growing crescent of Earth had been flooded completely in it. Every now and then the hull would patter as one of the rocks struck it, but the technicians had assured everyone before leaving that the meteors were harmless and wouldn't be able to penetrate the thick, exotic alloys of the hull. Still, it seemed like a bead of sweat formed on Grendel's pale forehead every time he heard one strike, the words of a know-it-all seemed nice when he was back on Earth, but the second he felt zero-g take hold of his gigantic body he began to become more and more terrified. Just land you big motherfucker. The words didn't help. Time dragged on and on, the crescent of Earth now filled the window and tiny spouts of fire whirled about atop the hull of the ship. Grendel could feel the tugs of gravity, even though his boots had been magnetized to the floor just like everyone else's. He glanced out the window again and saw that their speed was increasing, the skies began to dip and a dull roar throbbed in his ears. He grew even more uneasy. Just think about spiders, he told himself. The crimson lights dimmed. Pandemonium erupted. Although his memory much later was unclear, Grendel recalled seeing a larger meteorite streak in from nowhere and puncture the hull of their ship, he heard the men around him scream with terror as the magnitizors failed, the tremors from the impact throwing them into the walls violently. The air pressure in the assembly deck began to decrease, Grendel's helmet closed in over itself, and a rent at the other end of the room widened into the flaming chasm of space. Using all of his muscle he grabbed onto the handholds nearest to him and watched as, like bits of food in the whirlpool created in a draining sink, his friends, his foes, his fellow soldiers were sucked through the breach without a sound, the faces that he saw always composed of widened eyes and silent but shrieking mouths. An instant later he was alone and the tug on his body had dissipated. Another rumble shook the craft, he looked out the window and could see the still-very-distant buildings and streets of the east coast spinning by below, their lines and lights a blur. The roar turned to a deafening shriek, their descent decayed into a full dive. Using the few seconds left to him Grendel carved the window open with his las cannon and jumped out, his jaw cocked to the left to order his emergency parachute into deployment. Before he was knocked out he saw the flaming carcass of the gigantic landing craft skid upon the apartment buildings of a city that he didn't know, it came to a halt when it struck the walls of the only starscraper visible on the horizon. His head wilted and his eyelids fluttered before they closed with merciful unconsciousness.
Brit lit IAN Schwartz, did you do the brit lit character thingy? go on msn when you are on sciforums dude!@
