Othaglot and Cane - Story Thread

[dogscoff]

I've been inspired by the excellent history of the galaxy thread, and also the galactic bash and other story threads (Liks S_J's classic story Last year). Thing is, I don't have the staying power to write full epic which tracks an entire game, so I thought I'd open this thread for short one-part stories.

Anyone who wants to write a one-off piece of se4 fiction without any obligation to continue it or link it to any wider story, please post here.

Here's my starter:
A Texrak Tale (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/fiction/texraktale.htm)

Crap title I know...

[ September 28, 2002, 00:44: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[oleg]

Somebody, sorry I forget who, Atrocities? no ? opened a thread to collect game stories scattered around this forum. I think it might be a good idea to find that link before all our creativity is lost forever.

[TerranC]

Story Junkie (can you figure out who that is?)
and Hadriel started fiction forums Methinks.

Don't know what happened to them.

[Story Junkie]

Whee! Links! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[dogscoff]

So... did anyone actually read the Texrak story?
Perhaps I didn't make it clear that if you click on the story title in my original post it will take you to the text, which is posted on my webpage.

I have an idea for another one, but it will probably turn into a bit of an epic. Should be quite funny, too http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[ May 27, 2002, 09:08: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Suicide Junkie]

I read it when you posted, but then TerranC distracted me http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

An Epic is always good.

[dogscoff]

Epic is good, eh? Well here's chapter 1 of an SEIV murder mystery=-) No title yet, but "Othaglot and Cane" has quite a nice ring to it =-)

The first alien I had ever seen lay on the floor before me, dead. It had four limbs, a thick torso and no head. I was pretty sure there was supposed to be a head, but I couldn’t be certain. The skin was ice- white, and I wondered whether that was the correct colouration, or whether it was a result of prolonged exposure to the chilly vacuum of space. I reflected that it might also have something to do with the thick red liquid now oozing out of the thawing corpse. Cappa Loog shuffled backwards nervously as the expanding puddle approached him.
“Captain said pull him in so we pulled him in. Half an hour ago. Opened the sat doors and went out in a space suit and pulled him in.” He said. Even for an unjoined Cappa, he wasn’t particularly bright - He’d already given me the same story twice, but since he didn’t seem to have any other comments, he just kept repeating it. I sensed my own Cappa’s mirth at Loog’s repetition, and affectionately warned her against displaying it. I pressed on with the questioning, hoping to get something new out of Loog.
“And have you touched the body since then?”
“Nope, just pulled him in and left him here.” Adding hurriedly; “Captain told us to do that.”, apparently afraid that I would find some reason to arrest him.

At that point, the second alien I had ever seen entered the room, in a far better state of health than the first. I had expected it to move on all four limbs, but its two-legged locomotion afforded the creature a curiously long, slow rhythm which, combined with its height, made it seem somehow aloof. The security officer accompanying it eyed his charge suspiciously, clearly blaming him for the inconvenient delay incurred by the discovery of the body.

The human looked first at the bulky Cappa Loog, and quickly surmised his status from the greasy work-suit and heat armour. A brief process of elimination allowed him to identify me, and he turned, extending one of the upper limbs in my direction as he did so.
“Detective Othaglot, I presume”, he said, withdrawing the appendage when he realised that I hadn’t recognised the gesture. His translation device produced perfect Cue-Cappa, and I acknowledged his assumption.
“You must be Mr Cane. I look forward to working with you.” This Last statement wasn’t true, but since I was stuck with him I thought it best to be polite. I realised with some embarrassment not only that his mouth was exposed, a hole right on the front of his head, but that I had been staring at it. The muscles around it had worked to change its shape, and I wondered if it was a significant display of body language. It seemed bizarre that a culture could exist where an individual could display their mouth without shame, let alone use it for non-verbal communication.

“As do I.” He said simply. “And this is our mystery man. Have you examined him in any way?” For the first time he looked down at the corpse, which by now was a white lumpy island in a sea of red. Now that I had a complete specimen to compare the body to, I could see that a head was indeed lacking, and that the pale did not match that of a live human. Mr Cane was far pinker than the corpse, although the longer he looked at it the paler he became. Perhaps it was some kind of sympathetic response. Psychically examining his thought processes, I could make no sense of his alien mindscape. His shapes of his thoughts were accessible to me, but they were so alien as to be completely unreadable. It was disconcerting to communicate with a being but to have none of those psychic cues which you only notice by their absence. Perhaps that’s why the security officer had taken such a dislike to him.

“I’ve only just arrived on the ship myself.” I said, and at first it seemed as though he hadn’t heard me, or that the translator had failed. After a moment he looked away from the dead body and made eye contact with me. “I haven’t had time to question anyone except Cappa Loog here.”
“I see. Well, at least that saves you the trouble of debriefing me. Are you the person who recovered the body?” he now addressed Loog, whose idiotic expression promoted itself to bewildered at the human’s question. Just as I thought Cane would have to repeat himself, Loog replied.
“Yeah, pulled him in through the sat doors, half an hour ago. Captain said pull him in so we pulled him in. Me and Olta”
“Was the.. uh.. was the head missing when you collected the body?”
Not wanting to hear the technician’s Version of events for a fifth time, I quickly interposed. “I have already questioned Cappa Loog. We shouldn’t keep him from his duties any longer.” It took him a few moments to register my meaning, and then he lumbered wordlessly off, no doubt to recount his limited anecdote to Olta and his other workmates.

Cane stepped in to the red pool and crouched down to the body, in the kind of pose I had expected him to assume normally. He conducted a squeamish search of the corpse’s damaged clothing, during which he found and retained several items. He looked up at me after he had done so. Did he think I hadn’t seen him take anything? I made a mental note to question him about that later. He then produced a small device from his own garments and used it to take a tissue sample. He studied the instrument in his hand for a moment, and then said “The DNA isn’t in our database. There isn’t even a family match. This is very strange.”
He stood upright again and addressed the security officer. “Do you have any cryogenic facilities on this ship? I don’t doubt the capabilities of your own medical staff, but our races still have much to learn about one another, anatomically. I’d prefer that he be transported back to our colony on Ceres IV for examination.”
The officer’s objection to this new imposition was evident to me, but was probably lost on the alien. “We do have cryo-units on board. Our First Officer will have to decide whether your request can be accommodated.” He paused a moment while his mind reached out to the First Officer’s and made the request. “It can. The cryo-unit will be transferred to the ship which brought you.” He said. “The Captain says she is ready to see you now.”

The security officer guided us to the Captain’s office and departed, throwing the human one Last dirty look as he did so. The door opened, and we entered. It was a functional room – a broad, circular desk, a terminal and a large screen on one wall displaying views of the bridge and other critical parts of the ship. The Captain was resting on a seat in the centre of the desk, her tentacles spread out upon it in all directions. One tentacle tapped at the console, eliciting various displays of data that did not seem to meet with her approval. I doubted that she had ever seen a human face to face either, but she didn’t waste any time with curiosity.

“We had assumed that you would examine the body yourself. Had we known you were simply going to put it in cryo, we would have recovered it a week ago and continued with our mission. Instead, you have a 300kt vessel following a corpse around, wasting time and supplies.”
“I apologise for the miscommunication and the inconvenience, Captain Roothloota.” said Cane. I heard his human voice mispronounce the Captain’s name, but the translator corrected it. “I’m sure that your superiors will understand the delay, since the request for your co-operation comes directly from my government to yours. I assumed that you would have put him into cryo already. My function is to investigate his death, not to examine him. I’m not a physician.”
“Well, the delay has given us a chance to carry out some maintenance and catch up on administration.” She indicated the mass of writing-sculpts on her desk with a tentacle.
“If you are not a physician, you must be a policeman, like our detective Othaglot here.” My Cappa wagged her eyestalks in acknowledgement.
“Actually, my normal role is a diplomatic one, but out here on the frontiers we often have to adapt. I was the nearest available person, and my government decided that a prompt investigation was preferable to a fully-qualified one.” His mouth made that shape again, and I struggled to guess at it’s meaning.
The captain spoke. “How exactly do you plan to investigate this death? Security officer Oogroothoo tells me you have no identity for the deceased, and presumably you have no idea how he came to be floating in space in the first place. Where will you start?”
Before Cane could answer, I spoke. “Since this body has been found in Cue Cappa space, this is still my investigation. In the interests of diplomatic relations, I have been instructed to allow Mr Cane to observe and assist.”
Cane made another facial expression, which involved one eye and not the other, but said nothing.
“The proximity of the deceased to the mining colony below us indicates that he had business there. There would certainly be no other reason for a spacecraft to pass this way, and my limited knowledge of astrophyics tells me that he couldn’t possibly have drifted in from a busier part of the system in the few years that humans have had knowledge of our people.”
Cane added “I have also found some items on the body which may give us further avenues of investigation once we get down to the moon.” He looked at me and made the mouth-shape again. It was making me feel uneasy.
The Captain’s Cappa made a noise of acknowledgement, but her Cue seemed to have little interest in the answer to her question. I could tell, but the human could not, that she was telepathically communicating with one of her officers. Oblivious, Cane continued talking.
“Captain, I have a question for you. How did you find the body? Even in such close proximity to an inhabited world, the chances of a ship stumbling across so small an object and then taking the trouble to identify it as something of interest are too remote to be mere chance. You must have detected him somehow, but I can’t begin to imagine how.”
The Captain had redirected her attention just in time to hear most of the question. Her answer was curt. “I’m afraid I cannot answer that question, Mr Cane, but I can tell you that your logic is sound. I have little doubt that you will find out the truth about your unfortunate compatriot. Now, if you have no further requirements of me, I’d like to resume my task, which has been delayed by yours.”
“Of course, Captain, thank you for your time.” Although I could not sense it in his alien mind, I could guess the human’s frustration at the Captain’s sudden reluctance to talk.

As we were escorted from the office to the airlock, where a police shuttle waited to take us to the mining colony below, Cane turned to me. “I hope we will be able to work well together, Detective. I sense a certain antipathy. Are you more used to working alone?”
I felt my Cappa’s tentacle tips flush blue with shock. How had he managed to divine my thoughts and feelings, when I, a telepath, had so completely failed to understand his? I knew very little about humans but I knew they were not telepathic. No other races were, as far as we knew.
I hoped the embarrassment of my response would be filtered out by the translation device. “I am not used to… to aliens, Mr Cane. I have no objections to them , but I have no experience of them. Of you. Given time, I am sure I will learn to work with you effectively.”

He simply made the mouth-shape again, and said nothing more until we reached the airlock.

[Suicide Junkie]

http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif sounds like pirates!

A very well written story so far.

[TerranC]

Suicide Junkie:

http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/blush.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/tongue.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

Dogscoff:

Great story!

[ May 27, 2002, 22:45: Message edited by: TerranC ]

[dogscoff]

Chapter 2 is well underway. Unfortunately, I'm still not exactly sure where the plot is going (let alone whodunnit) so I may have to go back at a later date and change parts of Chapter 1 to make sense.

Once I get things fleshed out a little more I'll start posting this story to my website.

[capnq]

I've been writing a history of one of my solo games as I play it; the file is up to 10K so far. I won't be ready to post it until I know how the upcoming war that I'm expecting turns out, at least.

Dogscoff, two good stories. Your wallpaper's a bit hard to look at, but given the graphics I use in my Hypermaze mod, I'm hardly in a position to complain. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

[Rollo]

Originally posted by capnq:
I've been writing a history of one of my solo games as I play it; the file is up to 10K so far. I won't be ready to post it until I know how the upcoming war that I'm expecting turns out, at least.

Dogscoff, two good stories. Your wallpaper's a bit hard to look at, but given the graphics I use in my Hypermaze mod, I'm hardly in a position to complain. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">LOL, yeah
actually had to copy and paste the text into a texteditor to read the story.

Dogscoff, great story http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif . Looking forward to hear more. Will there be Vikngs in it? (pretty please http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif )

Rollo

[dogscoff]

I did wonder about the wallpaper. Will fix that. Vikings: I'll see what I can do. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif
Pirates: Maybe, I'll have a think about it.

I will probably almost certainly include some sort of Mafia / Triad / Yakuza organisation. Now that would be a cool shipset.

[capnq]

newzwirre rreleaze...muellerr confederrazion brreakz off diplomatic rrelazionz with mi-go hierrarrchy

yuggoth...glao newz networrk...ztatement...tenzionz rroze today along the jukala-lapan corrridorr...az the muellerr confederrazion withdrrew frrom itz trrade and rrezearrch trreaty with the mi-go hierrarrchy...denounzing a mi-go attack againzt an unarrmed gc-100-clazz colony zhip...the muellerrz demanded a forrmal apology...a zpokezman forr mi-go high prriezt da-vi acknowledged that the mi-go defenze frrigate...dark judgment...waz rrezponzible forr the deztrruczion of the colony zhip...howeverr zaid that the blame lay with the confederrazion...claiming that the colonizerr zhould have had ample warrning that the dark judgment waz apprroaching the warrp point frrom jukala to lapan...

rrelazionz have been ztrrained rrezently between the hierrarrchy and the confederrazion due to the mi-go colonizazion of thrree worrldz in the muellerr-claimed zyztemz of ankel...eztopholez...nbarum...the grravey clan haz alzo exprezzed concerrn overr the mi-go prrezenze in gemhadrran...mi-go defenze fleetz in lapan...jukala...malfadorriz arre rreporrted to be on high alerrt...

[dogscoff]

Othaglot & Cane: Chapter 1 rewritten, Chapter 2 now available.

Dogscoff's SEIV page (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm)

Chapter 3 is in progress.

[LokiOne]

Nice work Dogscoff! For years I have used my second PC to write an on-going narration of whatever computer game I might be playing. I include maps (using PAINT). notes, reminders, hints and sometimes paste in pieces of jpeg or bmp artwork to bring the story alive.

I've done this with everything from Civ, Might & Magic, Wizardry, Dungeon Siege, X-Com, Colonization, Morrowind, etc, etc. I have over 39 megabytes on one Jagged Alliance: Unfinished Business game alone (it includes a lot of maps done with PAINT).

This using the second PC to keep notes and spin a storyline helps to prolong a game sometimes taking 2 or 3 times longer to complete. All the better to enjoy the ride! Of course, sometimes I get to playing the game and get so wrapped up that I neglect the storyline and later have to go back and catch up. Gives me a chance to expand on the content.

I prefer the strategic games and RPG's where I can pause the action and make my entries. Those real-time games drive me nuts because there is little time to stop and take stock of where I am or develop a long range strategy plan. To each their own.

My copy of SE4 Gold just arrived and I am already getting into my first game, writing my notes and storyline as I go. What a hoot! My thanks to everyone here who has contributed hints, answers and directions to the various questions brought to this forum.

Excuse me, my Terran Confederation is looking for some direction now after finding the nearby systems empty of alien forces and I have to figure out what to do next. "Look, General Vaughn, I don't care what the Tech Minister says, we need to research ..."

[capnq]

Dogscoff, the new background fits the opening scene quite nicely, but now I have to highlight the text to read it comfortably.

I think white text would work well on that background.

[Baron Munchausen]

I have to agree that the point of view of the characters is quite well thought out. Have you played as Cue Cappa very much, Dogscoff? I hope that the plot you are building 'on the fly' comes off as well as the characterization of alien psychology and xeno-diplomacy. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[spacefan]

Its a neat idea posting the chapters on a website. I've always been interested in stories, and role playing games, but until the SE series I never found a futuristic one that seemed to work out well.

I'll probably think up a scenario to play out and start my own website for that. Space Empires is starting to rival my other roleplaying choice (DR:Platinum) in terms of time spent just because of how deep it can be, especially when trying to roleplay and not just go for power.

[dmm]

Enjoyable reading. Looking forward to more. What a shame you're not an Asimov -- then we wouldn't have to wait so long between chapters. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[geoschmo]

D, This detective story is very good writing. I particularly enjoy the depth you are going to describe the characters. This I believe is what is missing from the typical SEIV fan fiction, my own included. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif I am very eager to read more.

One technical nitpick though, there should be a link to chapter 2 from chapter 1. Instead of having to go back to the main page to get to it.

Geoschmo

[dogscoff]

Thanks for all the O&C feedback on this thread and others. It has all been noted and will be acted upon.

A few questions:

1- would you rather wait longer for new chapters if it meant not having to re-read earlier chapters as I reverse-engineer the plot?

2- Do I need to spend more time describing settings/ background?

3- I think I'm going to have to write a few chapters from Cane's Point of View, as we approach territory which is more familiar to Othaglot. Is this a bad idea?

I'm starting to form a more detailed plot, BTW. Some teasers for what's to come:

- Violence! How do you fight someone with 12 limbs and no skeleton?
- Cool gedgets! I'm sure I'll think of something.
- Gripping cliffhangers! The end of Chapter 2 was a bit boring, wasn't it?
- Intra-species sex: Tentacles and testacles! Othaglot is only "mostly male" after all. (I'm only kidding about this one. Probably.)
- Exotic locations! We'll be visiting the soggy Cue Cappa homeworld and Cane's bug-eating parents on Ceres IV.
- Inteplanetary conflicts and conspiracies! 'Nuff said. This is Space Empires after all.
- Much much more... it's so good even I don't know what it is yet!

(The above spoilers are subject to change without notice, as is what you've already read.)

[ June 04, 2002, 21:41: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[capnq]

1- would you rather wait longer for new chapters if it meant not having to re-read earlier chapters as I reverse-engineer the plot? <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">I don't mind re-reading, as long as you tell us which chapters have changed. If a plot development in Chapter 8 depended on a change to Chapter 3 that I hadn't read, it would be very confusing.

2- Do I need to spend more time describing settings/ background? <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">IMO, no, you're doing fine.

3- I think I'm going to have to write a few chapters from Cane's Point of View, as we approach territory which is more familiar to Othaglot. Is this a bad idea? <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Not at all, I can think of at least three professional authors I've read who do that.

[ June 05, 2002, 01:24: Message edited by: capnq ]

[geoschmo]

I concur. I don't mind you changing things as long as you let us know what changed. I rather enjoy observing the process you are going through to develop the story. Who knows, maybe it will even help some of us poor shlocks with our writing. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

Geo

[Baron Munchausen]

1) I'll jump on the bandwagon that's already rolling. As long as you let us know of changes it's fine to post new chapters as you revise.

2) Good settings help a story immeasurably. It's just a question of what sort of story you want to write. Lot's of discursive description might bore people looking for an 'action/adventure' story. But this looks like a whodunnit, and we all know that whodunnit's hinge off details.

If some point of the setting/background is necessary to the story, you'd better describe it in detail. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif It's probably most effective to deal with the pertinent details from the point of view of whichever character is a stranger to them, so we have an excuse for a 'newbie' level explanation.

3) Excellent idea, for the reason cited above. You get to describe things from the point of view of someone unfamiliar with them and it gives a good excuse to fill the reader in. Also, switching points of view back and forth could let you pull some tricks, if you're clever. As already noted, 'whodunnit' mysteries hinge of small details. You might use the device of describing things from odd viewpoints to conceal major points in the story until the Last minute. It might take some time for those two 'aliens' to fully understand eacch other, and while they are not fully certain of each others meanings all sorts of things can pass through the net. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

Don't over do the violence unless you're really aiming for an action/adventure story. I don't think the genre's mix very well. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

And surely by now you realize that every single person in this forum LOVES to speculate on SciFi technology, gadgetry, and alien life. You've got a whole committe of anxious and eager collaborators waiting if you would like to toss some problems out for us. Then stand back! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[ June 05, 2002, 05:07: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Monday night I was at a gig and didn't get to sleep until 4am. Last night then, I went to bed at eleven and couldn't sleep for 3 hours. This means I now have almost the entire plot worked out, but I'm so tired I can't be arsed to type it up. (Up at 6 this morning for work http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif )

I don't think I'll need to do much more reverse-engineering. Probably looking at 12 - 20 chapters in total, with Vikings, Mafia, a brewery-based conspiracy theory and a big big big big gap for a sequel, (but without making this story in any way dependant on the next.)

[dogscoff]

Chapter 3 is up. Click the banner and then "fiction". We'll get on to some actual detective work next chapter, I promise.

[ June 05, 2002, 20:06: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

This latest chapter seems shorter and blander than the first two. Is there really that much difference in 'interest level' when seeing from an alien viewpoint? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

You'd think they would have more discussion about the food problem. Wasn't Cane surprised to find that he had to catch the food himself? He didn't seem to be very surprised. Or was he 'sort of' aware of Cue Cappa feeding customs before he was sent out?

If the Cue Cappa don't like recreational drugs, what do they think of cooking your food? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif I bet they'd think humans are pretty stupid for killing their food and storing it before it needs to be eaten. "As soon as it's dead it starts to spoil!" http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[dogscoff]

Baron - Good points, although I plan to address quite a few of them when Othaglot gets to Ceres IV - You might have seen a hint that human eating habits there aren't quite the same as they are on Earth. More about that about chapter 10ish.

As for shorter, blander... I can't argue with that. It didn't get the same level of reworking as the others. I might have another go at it. I've been seriously considering merging Chapter 1& 2 together, 3 & 4 & 5 together, so that it's one chapter from O, one chapter from C...

Chapter 4 is a little more lively, and things get even better after that http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

Chapter 4 is now up, BTW. Rollo will be pleased to learn that he has a cameo, albeit in anagrammatical form=-)

[ June 07, 2002, 08:53: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

OK, help needed. I want a sub-aquatic oxygen breathing race for later in the Othaglot & Cane story. I could use the Sergetti, or I could make something up, but I'm kind of hoping someone will have a more suitable race already invented. If you have one/ know of one, send me the _AI_General file.

Ta.

[spacefan]

The Fazrah description says they are an aquatic race originally, and oxygen breathing. They might be a bit warlike for your purposed though. Who knows.

[dmm]

Good story, but so far Othaglot is coming off as inferior to Cane, which is probably not what you'd intended.

[ June 07, 2002, 16:31: Message edited by: dmm ]

[geoschmo]

Inferior? You think? I am not getting that at all. Perhaps less comfortable with the situation. But that is to be expected I think considering he is not as used to dealing with alien cultures as Cane is.

Not to mention the fact that an criminal investigator in the Cue Cappa race would not have the same skill level as his human counterpart. My impession so far is that Cue Cappa soceity is more structured, so there would be less crime to investigate.

Cue investigators are probably more like accident investigators, what happened, how, and why, cause and effect. Where a Cane would be more used to dealing with personalities, lying, and other duplicitousness that a member of a psychic race would have little experience with.

I am looking forward to seeing where Otho can bring something constuctive to the investigation though besides just keeping Cane company. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif But it's still early. They are just now really getting into the investigation.

Geoschmo

[dogscoff]

I wanted to keep the balance of power/ usefulness quite even, with the two characters taking the lead alternately. Of course, I'm still getting to know them myself, so it might take me a while to get this right.

Othaglot comes into his own a bit more from Chapter 6 onwards.

I've just written Chapter 5, but won't be posting it for a day or two. I think it's my favourite chapter so far - we get some decent evidence and the mystery starts to open up a little.

BTW, if anyone ever gets any ideas about the mystery, please don;t post them here - you might spoil it for others if you get it right.
I'd be happy to accept emails on the subject though. I won't tell you if you're right or not, but I'd be interesting to see what paths my puzzle leads ppl down.

[ June 08, 2002, 15:17: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Chapter 5 is up. Sorry about the delay, I've had it written (and chapter 6 & 7 too=-) nd ready for a week, but haven't had time to upload it.
Click my banner and then click "fiction".

Slight tweaks to previous chapters, but nothing important- cosmetic changes only, really.

CapnQ - Thanks for your message. I couldn't see the error you mentioned though.

[Baron Munchausen]

Now chapter 5 is much more interesting. There still doesn't seem to be quite the same amount of 'thought processes' going on but I guess that's to be expected when the narrator is not an alien. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

I'll be interested to know how Cane gets through the firefight without being killed, since he is unarmed? Hopefully not without personal armor or 'shield' or something... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[capnq]

dogscoff: I just sent a second PM quoting the sentence.

I don't think I'll be able to read Chapter 5 tonight, unfortunately.

[dogscoff]

Ahhh... gotcha. Thanks 'Q.

Chapter 6 will be posted as soon as I sober up. Couple of days then...

[Baron Munchausen]

What's this? You belong to the F. Scott Fitzgerald school of authorship? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[Marvin Kosh]

No-strings stories? Hmmmm....

Pandora's Black Box

The dig was fairly routine. It was the same old story for Karamia and her team.... surveyor finds ruins of ancient civilisation, they got the call and were out here in a desolate wilderness.

Indications were that the previous inhabitants wiped themselves out in a mutually destructive thermo-nuclear war, something like twenty, maybe twenty one thousand years ago. The only things left standing were these ruins, and they had slowly weathered over time so that the symbols which might be taken as the language of these people, were barely legible.

"Something odd here, ma'am."

"Let me see, Phyl." Karamia looked over the data. Phyl, her composition expert on loan from the military, had briefly run a dating on the materials used in the construction of the ruins. They were, give or take a year or ten, just a little older than the holocaust that had destroyed all life here.

This would be the third such set of conspicuous ruins left on a 'suicided' world. The other digs, which Karamia had been involved in but never actually led, had turned up nothing of any real value. She was about to call the others in and set up a brif meeting to tell them what to expect, when the comm crackled to life.

[Got something down here, Doctor Karamia. You really want to take a look at this....]

"Okay I'm on my way." These kids would get excited over heiroglyphs. Her father, and some of the older archaeologists, had thrown in the shovel and gone to universities to lecture and tutor in climate-controlled conditions.

What she saw when she got below though, stole her breath away. The others were leaning over a balcony, silent in their appreciation of what was below.

Embedded in a huge metal portal, a warp point glowed and shimmered. It was darkened which as far as her eye could tell, meant that although it was there, it wasn't active. If it lit up blue that would be a different story.

Over many years, similarly darkened wormholes had been found in space, and any efforts to activate them had met with failure. This led scientists to believe that they had been deliberately sealed long ago.

The other two digs hadn't found anything like this, although one had found a fragment of what may have been this metal portal. Perhaps those ones had been buried or even destroyed, though what could damage material that could (apparently) withstand a nuclear bLast?

Maybe it was the location, deep underground, that had kept it safe. Maybe it had just never figured in the all-consuming crossfire. With a bit of luck they would find something here that would activate the portal, and then a survey drone could be sent through to report on what was on the other side.... she didn't fancy taking a ruinning leap into the unknown when there could be no gravity or atmosphere on the other end.

They found what they were looking for later that day, but with exhaustion setting in, Karamia and the others let the computers sift through the collated information on the control mechanism, while the team slept.

Around daybreak, things went crazy. Karamia woke on the middle of a panic, klaxons wailing as the earth shook beaneath her. She scrambled out of her caravan, grabbing the first person who ran by. "What the heck is going on?"

"It's Phyl.... he- he oepned the portal!" The frightened digger escaped her hold and ran on for dear life.

Without warning, the ruins shook apart and slowly parted as the rock and soil beneath them was parted like paper flaps. Karamia hadn't had any idea that the wormhole would have that sort of effect, else she would have parked a lot further away.

No.... it wasn't that....

Something else was pushing the ground apart, she could see it become visible, along with the furiously shimmering warp point. It was dark and hideous, and yet almost transparent to the eyes. almost as large as the warp point, it spread several 'wings' and circled the site of its re-entry into this universe, emanating a beam which bLasted away the rock surrounding the site. When it did this it became less transparent for a few moments at a time revealing its pitted and scaly hide.

Karamia stood there frozen in shock as yet another being emerged from the warp point, and another, until the light from the rising sun had been subdued almost to night.

They spoke to her telepathically. It was a soft and insinuating voice, but it had the warmth of evil which flowed into her mind. She resisted, but her will was nothing against that of these ancient beings.

*You have summoned us. What do you want?*

"I don't want anything. We.... we opened the warp point ro see where it would go."

*Yes. You have freed us. Tell us.... of your desires, your dreams, and we will make them reality.*

"I don't want your-" She was cut off as her mind was probed for those things which she kept locked away, secret hidden desires which she told nobody about.

*Excellent. We will begin immediately. You will not be forgotten, Doctor Karamia.*

As she lay there clutching her throbbing head, she realised with horror what they intended to do. "Noooo!! You can't!!!"

But it was too late, they slipped away into the sky like smoke, bent on their objective and on making sure that she would be remembered throughout recorded history, or what would be left of it....

It was she who would be infamously credited for freeing the ZomE'da'tH from their extra-dimensional captivity, and the destruction of countless planets and billions of lives.

It was all her fault.

[Baron Munchausen]

C'mon, Dogscoff! We want to get to the end of the story and the solution to the mystery! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[dogscoff]

Sorry Baron. I'm actually mid-way through chatper 8 at the moment. I have chapter 6 ready for posting, but haven't had time. This weekend, promise.

[dogscoff]

Action-packed Chapter 6 is up.

Would anyone be interested in joining a mailing list for story updates?

[TerranC]

Hmm. Not much happening here.

[dmm]

Hey Dogscoff! My little tykes haven't had a night-night story in weeks. Do it for the children!

[dogscoff]

Here's something to keep y'all going in the meantime:

War Feed Four (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/fiction/WFF.htm)

[Rollo]

ROTFLOLPMP

dude, this is abso*freakin*lutely hilarious http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif .
I can hardly type, because I am still laughing.

reminds me of Starship Troopers

great work

[dogscoff]

Sorry guys... Lots of RL going on at the moment. Good news is, I have (at least) a week off work coming up, so I should be able to do some writing somewhen. I've already got chapters 7 and (most of) 8 written, butI want to do some tweaking before I release them.

Hang in there...

[sachmo]

that was a funny story, dogscoff!

[Rollo]

(bump)

I demand the immediate release of the next chapter of O&C or..., uhm... else.

Rollo

[dumbluck]

So, uh, when are you going to continue this story, Dogscoff????? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif

[dogscoff]

Ummm... I wil do. Somewhen. RL has been getting in the way of Infinite Fun for a month or two now and... well never mind. I actually have a chapter or two already written, but I want to polish them a little before posting.

[Puke]

"I guess the principles of Liberty and Truth really aren't much good up against a 4000 BlatterWatt Phased Polaron Array."

oh my god, i hadnt seen that link before. thats one of the funniest things i have ever read! Thanks!

[dogscoff]

http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[dogscoff]

OK, this is part of the O & C story, but it's NOT the next chapter. This is probably 8 or 10 chapters away from anything I've posted so far. Think of it as a teaser to keep you guys interested and to get me back into the writing mood. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

Oh, and before any one asks, I have *not* yet written all the chapters between what's on the website and this...

I tumbled in a tight ball for a short while, and considered the stupidity of my action. Jumping from a moving aircraft without the appropriate equipment is never a good idea. Doing so above water reduces your chances of death by high-speed collision with the ground, but surviving the impact loses some of its importance when you are hundreds or maybe thousands of kilometres from any ports or shipping lanes.

However, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, and to be fair the alternatives were less than appealing. The Cappan race is very well adapted to life in the water, having evolved from prehistoric creatures which lived entirely in the ocean, grazing peacefully on the micro fauna. Those early animals were forced to change when massive climate changes a few hundred million years ago caused several species of large, agile, carnivores to evolve. Anything directly below them in the food chain had to develop some kind of defence or face extinction. Therefore, the ancestors of the Cappa moved onto the abundant shorelines. There they found a plethora of small creatures to feed on, and if danger threatened from the sea could they simply run out onto the safety of the shore. However, they retained many of their aquatic adaptations so that they could evade land predators by diving into the sea, staying there for extended periods if need be. This arrangement worked very well, and they prospered and changed only a little from that stage to today’s modern Cappa.

The Cue are believed to be evolved from the same sea-bound progenitors. When the large predators moved in, the Cue branch of the family countered the menace by getting smaller: They became so small that big carnivores wouldn’t even consider them a worthwhile snack. However, there were other threats in those ancient seas, and so evolution could not stop there. Unable to defend themselves in the competitive conditions of those primitive seas, the ancient pre-Cue creatures began to seek protection from other species. They developed symbiotic relationships with other types of creature, in many cases the very predators which had initially forced their evolution. Dozens of different sub-species evolved, each one a specialised companion to another type of animal. It was a successful strategy and many of these creatures can still be seen, largely unchanged, on the homeworld today. The species that was to become the modern Cue moved into the shallows and found their evolutionary cousins the Cappa, who had by then been established there for around 30 million years. In exchange for protection and nourishment, those ancient Cue furnished their Cappan hosts with a primitive psychic sense, which helped them find food and avoid danger. As they symbiosis became more and more complete, the Cue shed all the unnecessary appendages which allowed them to survive independently, making themselves as light a burden on their hosts as possible.

The upshot of all this, is that Cappans (and hence Cue Cappans) can swim extremely well, and can survive for extended periods underwater. It is not unknown for skilled or lucky individuals to live for weeks or months in the open sea, as long as no adverse weather conditions arise, and they don’t fall prey to large, hungry sea creatures. Given enough time, my swim back to civilisation would be entirely feasible.

I had considered all these things before jumping into from my captors, and this was why it seemed like a good idea. What I hadn’t considered, and why I realised half way down that I had actually done something extremely stupid, is that this planet has no native animal life. Sure, the humans had brought all kinds of useful creatures with them from their homeworld and from every other corner of their territory, but these would have been introduced near the inhabited islands, and almost certainly would not have colonised these distant depths yet. Apart from the occupants of the rapidly departing aircraft, I was the only non-plant life for a very long way in any direction.

Although this meant I didn’t have to worry about being attacked by the wildlife, it also meant that there would be nothing for me to eat. This on its own might be a surmountable obstacle, but for the fact that Cappans derive all of their liquid requirements from their food. We do not drink water, except where water is available and food is not, and the brine which stretched to the horizon in every direction would do nothing to quench my thirst.

Still, one problem at a time. I relaxed my tentacles and allowed them to flail up above me, where they could increase my surface area and so increase air resistance, reducing my terminal velocity and minimising my impact speed. An instant before hitting the water I assumed a diving position, curling all tentacles down at once into a point, plunging deep into the water like some kind of missile. I bubbled up to the surface, winded and bruised but otherwise unhurt, and looked to the evening sky to see a vapour trail streaking away into the sunset. That is where my captors were heading, and so that way lay civilisation. I assumed a steady pace and began swimming westward.

[dogscoff]

*Bump*

BTW Don't worry about spoilers - this extract doesn't give much away. I'm in the writing mood again now, and so soon I will be able to post another chapter...

[dumbluck]

Originally posted by dogscoff:
...I'm in the writing mood again now, and so soon I will be able to post another chapter...<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Apparently, "soon" is a very subjective term... So what happened to O and C, anyway??????? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif

[dogscoff]

Sorry, you're right. "Soon" wasn't as soon as I would have liked. Ummm... how about "somewhen"?

[dogscoff]

*Fanfare!!!

Yes! I have finally got back round to writing some O&C. In fact I've spent all of today on it.

Chapters 1 to 6 have been significantly re-written, and the brand new chapters 7 & 8 have been uploaded!

It might be a good idea to re-read from the start, or from at least Chapter 3, since I've made a few changes which just won't make sense otherwise.

Even better news, I now know whih way to take the plot. I'd hit a bit of a quiet spot in the story and I didn't know how to keep it interesting until the next good bit. I think I now know what to do.

It's gonna get good=-)

Anyway, enjoy. BTW, FYI, O&C is now at around 16000 words. How long is an average short story?

[dogscoff]

Damn... after all the nagging I'd have thought someone would have been interested.

*Dogscoff puts his bumpin' boots on.

*BUMP*

I'm already half way through chapter 9 BTW.

[ September 28, 2002, 23:28: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[TerranC]

YOU had your chance. Fame flys El Scoffo http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

Really: Cane is going away! NO!

[dogscoff]

Chapter 9 is up. Oh yeah. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/tongue.gif

Anyone picking up this thread on Monday morning and not looking at earlier Posts, Chapter 1-6 have been significantly altered. A re-read is recommended...

[ September 29, 2002, 02:45: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Having stayed up 'til 7 this morning writing, chapter 10 is now up. Amazing what you can get done when your girlfriend is out of town. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

BTW, as always feedback, typos, inconsistencies and speculations about the direction of the plot are always welcome by PM or email.

Chapter 11 is underway...

[geoschmo]

D, don't read anything into the lack of posted reactions. First of all, it's the weekend. Things are usually slower around here on the weekend. Wait till Monday and people start getting back into and reading the forum. Second, you stated you did pretty much a rewrite of the exsisting sotry, so it's going to take some time for people to reread it and get accuainted with the characters again. It's hard to read 9 chapters all in a sitting, so it may take a few days.

But it's great to see you getting back to the story. I have been missing it, and I know others have as well.

Geoschmo

[dogscoff]

Thanks Geo. I'm aware of all those things and I'm not nagging. Well... not much. Besides, if I can make ppl wait 3 months for the next chapter, the least I can do is let them read it in their own time.

Still, I'm really getting excited about this. There are some really cool bits coming up...

[Baron Munchausen]

You are forgetting to add the links to the new chapters on the main page, btw. Right now you have to go into chapter 8 and & use the 'next chapter' link to get to 9 and 10.

[TerranC]

Maybe it's a hint to do something http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

[dogscoff]

*Bump*

OK, it's Monday night. Am I allowed to bump it yet? I'm not? OK.

*Un-BUMP*

Hmm, my PC doesn't seem to be un-bumping. Must have the wrong driver installed. Never mind...

[dogscoff]

You are forgetting to add the links to the new chapters on the main page, btw. Right now you have to go into chapter 8 and & use the 'next chapter' link to get to 9 and 10.
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Thanks Baron. Fixed now.

[dogscoff]

Dammit I hate it when I do three Posts in a row, especially in my own thread! It makes me look like a right sad muppet.

I've just finished writing chapter 11, but I won't be posting it now because it's late and I'm too tired to put it into HTML.

Anyway, there are things I'd like your opinions about:
-Early in the story ppl said that Othaglot was useless and Cane was doing all the clever stuff. Has that been turned around now? I want it to swing back and forth.

- Did Cane's "Pretend Diplomat" revelation make you lose respect for him? Did you even notice it? Does he seem more like a rounded character now he has a few weaknesses?

-Is there too much emphasis on "background knowledge?"

- Is there anything at all in the story that's confusing or nonsensical or unrealistic?

It's really hard for me to read the story myself and answer these questions, but if I can get some answers from you lot I'm sure I'll be able to make the story a good one. I'd really appreciate it if anyone who has read it so far could comment on the above points.

Thanks very much.

[ October 05, 2002, 01:53: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Suicide Junkie]

Here's to breaking up chains of self-replying!

-Early in the story ppl said that Othaglot was useless and Cane was doing all the clever stuff. Has that been turned around now? I want it to swing back and forth.<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Definitely. Now that he's back in his element (police work, interrogating criminals), Othy's doing quite well.

It's almost as if they've switched bodies http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

-Is there too much emphasis on "background knowledge?"<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Seems fine to me. The background needed for the plot points comes pretty naturally, and seems fairly obvious in hindsight.

[dogscoff]

Thanks S_J. Excuse my self-pitying whinges back there.

Chapter 11 is up. It's all gonna get a bit sinister now...

[dogscoff]

Chapter 12 is up. Maybe I'll save some of the sinisterness for later.

Here's a link (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm) for anyone too lazy to go find it=-)

[Rollo]

Woohooo!

[dogscoff]

Chapter 13 is up.

[dumbluck]

Ohhhh, the plot thickens....

[dogscoff]

Chapter 14 is up. Minor cosmetic tweaks have been made to some previous chapters, but nothing worth re-reading them for.

Click here (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm) for the new Chapter.

BTW, my old email address (the altavista one) will stop working soon, since altavista have decided to withdraw the service. My new address for all communication is dogscoff@eudoramail.com so please update your address books, those of you who ever email me.

[ October 26, 2002, 20:22: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

The top of the page for chapter 14 says 'Chapter 13' -- recycling the previous page as a form for the next one has its minor hazards... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

Very interesting. I figured that's who she'd turn out to be when she first appeared, though. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif Darn if I can make the faintest at guess what the 'big plot' behind all of this is, though.

[dogscoff]

Thanks for the bugspotting. I'll sort that.


Very interesting. I figured that's who she'd turn out to be when she first appeared, though.
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">There's still room for a surprise yet=-) For example, we haven't seen who's in the cryo tube that Cane and Singh are about to open...

Seriously, I've been trying to heavily signpost the possibility of Sloo as the escapee, all the while implying that she's a vicious, unstable, manipulative and highly dangerous psychopath. I was kind of hoping to make Cane's innocent friendship with her as sinister as possible. Egomaniac that I am, I like to imagine that everyone's been biting their fingernails in anticipation of the Chapter where she finally turns. At the same time I've been trying to foster a sense of "this is too obvious, it can't be her...

[dumbluck]

Seriously, I've been trying to heavily signpost the possibility of Sloo as the escapee, all the while implying that she's a vicious, unstable, manipulative and highly dangerous psychopath. I was kind of hoping to make Cane's innocent friendship with her as sinister as possible. Egomaniac that I am, I like to imagine that everyone's been biting their fingernails in anticipation of the Chapter where she finally turns. At the same time I've been trying to foster a sense of "this is too obvious, it can't be her...<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Well, that's pretty much exactly how you had me thinking, so you did a pretty good job.

Oh, yea, BUMP

[dogscoff]

Haven't done much writing lately, and I'm not sure just how to structure the next few chapters.

Also, I've just had to send my brand spanky new Vaio notebook back to Sony for repair (dodgy modem- http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon8.gif ) so although I do have another PC and one here at work I could use, I don't enjoy working on them so much.

Still, I'll try to get something posted soon.

[dogscoff]

My god, is it really six weeks since the Last chapter? Sorry, ppl, things have been hectic.

Anyway, fifteen is up, sixteen is well on the way.

The next few chapters are going to be *really* exciting. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[dogscoff]

So.... having read the latest chapter, who is still 100% sure that Sloo is the killer?

[dogscoff]

Here's another chapter for y'all. More is right around the corner...

[dumbluck]

Yep, still 99.375% sure that Sloo is not a nice person.

Now, as to whether or not she is the one from the container....

[dogscoff]

Chapter 17 is now available- a bit of light relief and plot development, makes a nice change from all this emotional stuff. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

Chapter 18 is ready for posting, but I want chapters 19 and 20 ready before I do that.

Oooooh, I tell ya, it all starts to get messy very soon... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/tongue.gif

Also, I'm working on another courier story http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon6.gif

[dogscoff]

Oh that reminds me: For the courier story, I need some info about ice hockey. Can anyone help? I know we have plenty of Canadians here. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

Ice hockey terminology: You score goals by getting the puck into the goal, right? I understand you then you have a face-off. Oh, do you have a referee or an umpire? What about linesmen? This is for a futuresport based on ice hockey, so I can afford to make a few things up (the positions, for example), but I'd like it to have some connections to the real thing.

Sorry if these are dumbass questions but ice hockey really isn't a big deal in this country and I have no clue.

Edit 2: I need some team names, but I don't want to clash with existing hockey/ american football teams. Do any of these exist?
Piranhas (i'm sort of stuck with this one already)
Mongeese (A respectful reference to GT http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif )
Emporers
Novae

If any of those are unavailable, how about the following backups:
Spikes
Warlocks
Warriors
Wizards

thanks ppl. First one to answer gets a player named after them in the story. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon6.gif Hope to upload the story this weekend somewhen.

[ January 23, 2003, 12:21: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Krsqk]

Just letting you know your fiction page doesn't have a link to Chapter 17. Also, your Chapter 18 link on Chapter 17 links to Chapter 7. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif Not that Chapter 18 is posted yet--get with the program, will ya? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

[dumbluck]

Warriors and Wizards are pro basketball teams. Pirahnas (sp?) are.... baseball, I think? Hmm. Maybe not. But I know the Warriors and Wizards are teams (that play each other this weekend, if I'm not mistaken...)

[dogscoff]

Thanks ppl. Krsqk, yeah i knew about some of that. Will fix.

I'v mentioned the Plenty Piranhas in the other courier story too, so I guess I'll have to stick with it, unless someone can think of a really nice new "P" word.

BTW, character names al round for you two - slightly respelled though...

[ January 23, 2003, 14:29: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[geoschmo]

****INFORMATION CLASSIFIED**** http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

[ January 23, 2003, 15:23: Message edited by: geoschmo ]

[dogscoff]

*sigh*, I might as well tell you. In fact, I'll just post the whole damn story here.

Read it in the Courier thread. (http://www.shrapnelgames.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=23;t=007128)

[ January 23, 2003, 15:59: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[geoschmo]

Nice, very nice. But why the tone of frustration initially? Did something in my suggestion bother you?

Geoschmo

[dogscoff]

Sorry Geo, I was worried your idea would inspire someone to pre-empt the dyson-hockey idea.

I've just realised I've got quite a big temporal anomoly to tidy up in there. Hmm...

[geoschmo]

Doh! Sorry. I didn't think about that. I just saw your post assking for information and it got me thinking. I should have PM'd you instead. I have edited my post. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[dogscoff]

Haha! No need for that Geo, but thanks. I've staked my claim now with the posting of the story.

I've also cleared up the temporal anomoly nicely, I'll edit the story post to the new Version.

[dogscoff]

D'oh! forgot the courier had his own thread.
All courier/ ice hockey related Posts here (http://www.shrapnelgames.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=23;t=007128) please. Thanks.

Just a reminder for anyone just logging on, Othaglot & Cane Chapter 17 is on my website..

[dogscoff]

OK, I had been holding this back until I had finished chapters 19 & 20, but I think if I do that you'll be waiting forever. Also, I'm not sure when I can update my site, so rather than post the update there, I'm going to put it here.

Are we all sitting comfortably?

**********************************************
Chapter 18
**********************************************
Chapters 1-17 here. (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm)
**********************************************

Cane padded quietly through the maze of freight containers. He knew perfectly well that his thoughts advertised his presence like a flashing light above his head, but he padded quietly nonetheless because it helped to sustain his mood. As I lay bleeding on the floor, I looked again into his mind and despaired. He was beginning to realise just how precarious his position was; unarmed, unarmoured, creeping around in the dark after a psychopathic psychic, but he padded onward all the same, clinging to his bitterness like a cloak on a cold day. To him it was as though the tingling, smouldering core of single-minded revenge he held so tightly could somehow protect him: As though it would enable him to shrug off any injury and plough on heedlessly, as long as at the end of it he could feel her die between his fingers.

Idiot.

Of course he was going to get himself killed, and he knew it. Reason, logic, self- preservation: These things nagged at him, but he pulled his cloak of stupidity over his ears and ignored them, his distraught and desperate mind taking the simplest route, the path of least resistance.

I tried to move the dead human pinning me to the floor, but with my newly inflicted wounds the pain of the exertion nearly robbed me of my consciousness. Better to remain immobile, if that was the price to pay for staying alert. I called out Cane’s name, the translator in my carry-pouch thankfully undamaged. I saw his mind register my voice, then decide to pretend he hadn’t heard it, and finally realise that I would see through his charade. All the same, he refused to respond. I called out again, this time adding a pitiful ”help” to the end. This time he hesitated, the realisation of his selfishness threatening to penetrate the shield he had drawn up around his hatred. His mind was a mess, and for the first time I realised just how young this Cane was. He had been utterly unprepared for the violence and betrayal now thrust upon him, and his inexperienced, shell-shocked reaction might be the death of us both.

“Damn you Cane, I’m hurt and she could be back any minute to finish me off.”
Fresh blood-lust flooded his thoughts, and I hurried to quell it.
“She’s already killed another of the crew and wounded me. What chance do you think you stand? She can see into your mind, Cane. She’ll know your every move like she did theirs and shoot you dead. Get me out of here and you can at least live to see her under arrest.”

There was a long pause, and then I knew that Cane was coming for me. He was struggling to free me from the dead human- who Cane woefully identified as Stevv- when gunfire and shouted human expletives erupted from elsewhere in the cargo bay. Cane stopped, and even without my sense I would have known what he was thinking.
“Cane, you’re not even armed.”
He looked meaningfully at Stevv’s blood-stained rifle. Stevv had been as intent on revenge as Cane after the murder of his colleague, Wilm. It was Wilm’s own weapon that had killed Stevv, although that intervention had undoubtedly saved my life.

She had been aware of my presence from the moment I found her, but had skilfully hidden that knowledge from me. Thinking myself undetected, I had given in to curiosity and tried to discern whether or not it was the same attacker who had been in the cargo container. With grim triumph I learned that it was, but she sensed that instant of distraction and bolted suddenly to cover. It only took me an instant to locate her thoughts again, but that was all she needed to gain the advantage. For her to see that opportunity and take it in such a tiny time frame, her psychic skills were impressive. For her to shoot me twice at long range with an alien weapon in an equally short window of opportunity was nothing short of exceptional. I admit to being somewhat in awe of her as I waited to die.

It was at that point that Stevv and Frasier had intruded on the scene. Stevv crouched to examine me and was shot. Frasier, enraged, pursued the murderess into the shadows immediately, leaving the engineer and myself in a bloodied heap. It was Frasier now making all the noise in the distance and I looked into his mind, knowing that she would be doing the same.

Without seeing him, I knew that Frasier was pressed up against a cargo crate not too far away, preparing to round a corner where he thought her to be. From inside his mind I could almost feel his exhilaration, smell the sweat gathering on his face. I wondered if she took some kind of perverse pleasure in observing those same sensations from her prey. Frasier was totally focussed on that next corner, and it occurred to me that he was not even considering the possibility of her being above him. No doubt she would be coming to the same conclusion and climbing to a higher position even now. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

Cane picked up the rifle and checked the ammunition chamber. He would have gone then to his doom, had I not sensed four members of the Endeavour’s crew nearby, drawn to the commotion. I called to them, and they rounded a corner to find us.
“This one’s dead.” I said, meaning Stevv. “She’s got Frasier alone.” I continued, weakly indicating the direction.
The commanding human nodded, and signalled his team to follow him. Cane fell in behind, and the officer turned to address him.
“We have this under control now, Sir.” He said. He raised the faceplate on his armour to make eye contact with Cane. “Mr Othaglot needs to be in the sick bay. I could have one of my people take him, but they would serve better down here.”
Cane dropped his eyes and shamefully mumbled some kind of agreement. The officer nodded formally and flipped his mask back down. With a brief gesture, the four of them moved efficiently down the corridor between the containers.

Without a word, Cane slung the rifle over his shoulder and roughly hauled Stevv’s body to one side. With only a little more care he picked me up and slung me onto his back, leaving two tentacles draped forward over his shoulders to hold me by. We trailed purple blood all the way to the sick bay, the pain lessening every moment with my diminishing senses.

The next thing I remember clearly is the sick bay. The Marilyn’s doctor was treating my wounds. His contact with doctor Ollaroo when Cane was injured must have been informative for him too, because he moved quickly and confidently, halting blood loss with some kind of gel and inserting tubes to administer liquids. All the while he was speaking to Cane in an angry tone I had not heard often among humans.
“…him in here like a sack of potatoes. Can’t you see he’s injured? A little more care might have made my job a lot easier.”
Cane didn’t respond. He simply looked sideways, directing his gaze absently down at one of the room’s corners. It was too much effort to hold my eyestalks upright, so I let them fall back onto the couch and once more examined Cane with my psychic sense. He was blank. Numb would probably be a better word, but the effect was the same: He had withdrawn into himself, unable to cope with the conflicting demands and emotions brought on by the day’s events. I found myself wishing he would put the rifle down.

“Are you even listening to me? Look, I could use your help here. Hand me that bottle.”
Cane’s mind had closed itself off to all outside contact, and so the doctor’s request just trailed across the surface, unable to find purchase. Eventually, it found its way into some reactive part of his mindscape, divorced from intelligence or questioning, and Cane picked up a bottle from an open cabinet and handed it to Singh. The doctor checked the label as he crossed the room for a syringe, and then looked up at Cane with concern. Naturally, I had assumed the contents of the bottle were meant for me but the doctor did not administer them. My treatment seemed to have been concluded. Instead, he spoke softly to Cane.
“Mr Cane, you are clearly in some kind of shock. You need to lie down. Why don’t you go back to your quarters?”
Cane stared, blankly. The doctor shook his head from side to side and walked to him, loading the syringe on the way.
“I need to stay here in case there are more casualties, but I can… hey, just a minute!”
I looked up, thinking Cane had gone after the killer again, but he was still standing there, immobile. Instead I saw the doctor leaving the medbay to pursue a member of the Endeavour’s crew who had just passed the doorway. Presumably, Singh had wanted to ask for someone to escort Cane to his quarters.

It was a tragedy of timing. No sooner had Singh left the room than there was a load, dull thump followed by a hideous metallic groaning. The doctor simply disappeared, leaving behind only a shrill scream that faded rapidly beneath a roar of escaping air, and for a fraction of an instant I glimpsed the corridor outside shearing away to reveal empty space. Before I even had time to process this input, the medbay’s pressure doors snapped shut. Papers, disturbed by the incomplete decompression, drifted lazily toward the door in the sudden silence. Their gentle, gravity-free rustling the only evidence that anything was wrong: That, and the inert body of Cane, who floated passively toward the ceiling.

[ February 11, 2003, 16:43: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

*bump*

Anyone actually reading this?

[Rollo]

yes, yes.

woah! what a cliffhanger (*again*).
quick, post chapters 19&20... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

I will reserve my 'hah, i knew it!' comments for later or email conversations http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

[mlmbd]

dogscoff, I had not been on to read this before. Chapter 18 is, most enjoyable! I too await for the next addition.

<font color=purple>mlmbd http://www.shrapnelgames.com//ubb/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/shock.gif </font>

[Baron Munchausen]

So where's the next installment?

[dogscoff]

uhhh... in development.

Truth be told, my creative energies have been going more into graphics than words lately, since I recently got myself a graphics tablet and have been doing race portraits for people and infantry pics for the neo-expansion pack.

Also, I've got a really compelling solo Proportions game on the go just now.

Anyway, O&C are always at the back of my mind, and ideas gradually build up into a little pile there. When the pile gets too big, it spills over and I have to start writing to catch all the thoughts. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif My pile is fairly full at the moment, so maybe I'll try to get chapter 19 finished this afternoon.

I also have a totally unrelated sci-fi project building up at the back of my mind too, and I have to discipline myself to direct my energies toward O&C and not that. I find it really hard to write just one story at a time=-)

[dogscoff]

OK, after slaving all day... chapter 19 is up. Just click the banner in my sig.

Feedback please...

[primitive]

Two thumbs (tentacles) up. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[Baron Munchausen]

Nice as it is, but incongrous. The story is already a bit fragmented by the leaping between narrators, but this is out of place after the arrival on the Marilyn has already been described, and we were left with the cliff-hanger of an obvious attack. Move this to chapter 16 or something? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[ March 07, 2003, 01:31: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Baron, thanks. I wasn't sure if I should do it like this. I've been (more or less) alternating the narrators for about 8 chapters now, with Cane fraternising on board the Marilyn and Othaglot 3 or 4 weeks behind him on the colony, revealing pertinent infomation about the killer.

From now on (because they are now in the same place, obviously) the story will proceed more or less chronologically, and there won't be any more narrator-swapping for a long time.

I have 2 problems with putting chapter 19 further back: First, i wanted to hold onto the suspense of Chapter 18's cliffhanger for a bit http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif , and the second is that it would spoil the surprise of the Endeavour's arrival. That's actually quite important, since the fact that Cane and Singh are interrupted by the boarding is significant, and I think if the reader knew what was going on they wouldn't get swept through that chapter in quite the same way.

What does anyone else think of this? If lots of you agree with Baron M, I'll find a way of pushing it back a few chapters.


Two thumbs (tentacles) up
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[ March 07, 2003, 08:48: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[mlmbd]

dogscoff, I agree with the Baron. I love the story, as you know. But it has seemed to be drifting some.

<font color=purple>mlmbd http://www.shrapnelgames.com//ubb/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/shock.gif </font>

[dogscoff]

dogscoff, I agree with the Baron. I love the story, as you know. But it has seemed to be drifting some.
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Drifting how? drifting away from the case you mean? drifting some other way?

[mlmbd]

doscoff, with the changing narrative, it seems to drift. There is not a straight line or semi-straight line, to follow. Does that make more sense?

<font color=purple>mlmbd http://www.shrapnelgames.com//ubb/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/shock.gif </font>

[dogscoff]

Oh yeah, I see what you mean. Most other books/ stories will follow more than one character or storyline at a time. Do you think it doesn't fit the O&C story? I guess most detective stuff tends to stay with the protagonist.

Hmm, i think I need to read more detective stories...

[Baron Munchausen]

It's fine to have several threads in your story. But quit doubling-back in the story line! Chapter 19 would be a good chapter 16, and that would not 'spoil' the surprise. The surprise is in Chapter 15. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

But we're left wondering who is attacking the Marilyn and we want answers - not reminisces of the already past story line!

[ March 08, 2003, 19:39: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[mlmbd]

doscoff, I think that multiple story threads is fine. The threads do not seem to move from one to the other with a smooth transition. Your suggestions of rearranging the chapters seems to work well.

Originally posted by Baron Munchausen:
- not reminisces of the already past story line!<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">I do not mind the reminiscing. If it is tied, and necessary to something in the present story thread. Sometimes, that is very powerful way of story telling!

<font color=purple>mlmbd http://www.shrapnelgames.com//ubb/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/shock.gif </font>

[dogscoff]

OK, I've looked back over it and I think I might swap 16 & 17, then swap 18 and 19. Would that be better?

[dogscoff]

OK, you'll be happy to hear that from here on in (for a while anyway) we will have one narrator and one thread. You'll also be happy to hear that I've finished chapter 20 and I'm posting it here, now.

So come on, who can tell me where she is this time? I've left at least three possibilities open in the text of this chapter.

==============================================
Othaglot & Cane Chapter 20 ( read chapters 1-19 here (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm) )
==============================================

I hate zero gravity.

I watched Cane float at the opposite end of the room. He was unconscious, having been sucked toward the doorway by the decompression. The door had then closed, and he had struck it head first. I was tired and hurting, but I had to go to him. Unconsciousness in zero-g carries certain medical risks for Cappans and I had to assume the same for humans. With a sigh I pulled out the tubes recently inserted into my tentacles and pushed myself away from the bed on an intercept. Once you launch yourself from a surface in zero gravity, you are set upon an unalterable course until you collide with something else. It is this lack of control that I dislike, but I ignored it as I coasted toward Cane, wrapping a few tentacles around him as I passed. My movement interrupted by the interaction, we fell into a tumble until I brought us to a mostly-controlled halt on the far wall. His breathing was unobstructed, so I secured the stricken human to one of the beds with a length of medical dressing.
My energy was all spent and my old wounds were hurting nearly as much as my new ones. Despite my best efforts to stay awake I soon drifted into senselessness, dreaming of being swept up in an irresistible tide.

I came round after a long time under, taking some time to remember where I was. I was also gently tied with bandages in just the way I had secured Cane, and he was floating freely in the far corner, wrapped tightly in the skinsheet that had previously been on a frame in the corner. He smiled briefly at my groggy confusion, then adopted a more stern countenance. He confirmed that he wasn’t badly hurt, but seemed reluctant to talk about anything else.

I told him how dangerous it was for me to lose consciousness without gravity, and he told me he would stay awake and monitor my breathing. I quickly slipped back into sleep. When I awoke for the second time he told me that 20 or more hours had passed, and that there had been “a lot of noise from the walls”. He explained, rather indifferently, that it was either the remains of the ship breaking up, which would mean certain death, or a rescue attempt. He then said he’d like to sleep if I was able to stay awake.

The noise turned out to be the Endeavour rescuing us, although I learned later that it was a difficult process. Although it carried independent life support, the medbay had no airlocks and because we lacked spacesuits inside it, the only way to get us out without fatal exposure to space was to bring the entire medical unit into one of the Endeavour’s pressurised cargo holds. Unfortunately, this meant cutting the room free of the Marilyn’s remains, because the cargo bay doors were only just big enough to admit it. Apparently we had been almost thirty hours in there. I was feeling slightly improved when the doors were forced open and we were greeted by Commander Lock, the Endeavour’s second in command. He briefed us on recent events.

“Your fugitive closed the plasma venting apparatus on that old hulk’s engines. Engines built in those days were made to withstand just about anything, so they contained a massive pressure build up before they finally blew and ripped the ship wide open. Of course there should have been safety overrides and warnings, but she disabled them. We think that’s why she killed the junior engineer on the bridge.”
“How many casualties were there?” Asked Cane.
“We have you two, and two survivors from the Marilyn’s crew. One of those suffered severely from exposure and probably won’t ever regain consciousness. The Endeavour wasn’t damaged, but we had a lot of crew over there assisting with the search. Most of them were armoured or at least suited so casualties weren’t as bad as they might have been. Still, many of our people were close to the engines at the time of the bLast or hit afterwards by debris. We’ve confirmed eleven deaths from our crew, including the Captain. We still have a half dozen unsuited personnel still missing. Without the communications equipment on their suits, they will be very hard to find.”

There was a pause. I had built up a certain amount of respect for Lock during my time on the Endeavour, and although he made no outward display of it I could see that the loss of his Captain and other comrades grieved him greatly. I didn’t know what to say or do, and the silence became awkward. His mouth twitched briefly before he continued.
“About half a minute before the explosion we detected one of the Marilyn’s escape pods launching. It was heading toward New May.”
Cane started visibly, and my mind darkened.
“That’s weeks away. You could catch her easily in this ship.” Said Cane.
“It’s a decoy. We scanned the pod and it’s empty. Twelve seconds before the explosion, a second escape pod launched back toward the Outlier point, and that one was definitely occupied. We’re guessing she hoped to slip out unnoticed in the chaos and send us chasing after the decoy.”
“Even so, you would still have time to catch the decoy, turn around and capture her.”
“You’re right, but it was a desperate manoeuvre from a cornered criminal. She’s inventive and completely ruthless. I can see why you’re so determined to find this woman, Mr Othaglot. I’m certainly looking forward to catching up with her.”
There was a predatory glint in his mind as he said this, but it disappeared in an instant.

“Where did she learn how to detonate the engines like that?” I asked. “The timing of the escape pod launches indicate that she knew almost exactly when the explosion would occur. That implies a very precise knowledge of some antique alien technology.”
“Stevv gave us tours.” Said Cane. “He was very proud of that antique alien technology. He was a good man.”
Cane looked away angrily. He was still not in control of his emotions, and seemed to be laying much of the blame for recent events on me. Sensing the hostility, Lock changed the subject.

“While the cutting crew was working to bring you aboard, we had a second team repressurise the Marilyn’s bridge section. It has its own airlock, so it will serve as a base of operations for the search team we’ve left behind to recover our Last six crewmates. We’ve been in pursuit of the escape pod since bringing you aboard. She’s got twenty-eight hours’ head start on us, but the Endeavour can be on her in fifteen hours or less. Now you two should probably get some medics to look you over and then try to relax. Mr Cane, I must ask you to forgive me. I’m needed on the bridge, so I cannot formally welcome you and show you to your quarters personally. I’ll send someone down immediately. Mr Othaglot, you remain our guest of course.”
Lock nodded courteously and turned to walk back toward the bridge, even in this situation the image of cool, rational humanity. After a few steps he stopped and turned, and for a moment emotion slipped onto his impassive features.
“I’m glad you’re both well. We’ve lost too many good people today already.” He turned again and was gone.
For some reason this brief expression touched me, and I thought about it all the way back to my quarters, and then again as I slipped once more into sleep.

I slept for a long time in my makeshift hammock, and when I awoke went to find Cane. Apparently he was with Loorl and refused to see me. Before I could pursue the matter further, I was called to the bridge. Commander Lock was looking at a small, shiny object in the middle of the viewscreen.
“The escape pod.” He said.
One of the bridge crew added, “Sensors still indicate someone alive on board, Sir.”
“Bring her in.” Said Lock, gravely. “Security, send a suited team to cargo bay two. Mr Othaglot, if you’d care to accompany me.”

I had to borrow Loorl’s space-suit, my own having been lost on the Marilyn. I wasn’t really fit for this, but I had to be there. I stood before the escape pod with a half-dozen heavily armed humans, waiting for the escape pod to be lowered to the floor while the cargo bay was pressurised. Irritated by the layer of unfamiliar clothing between my tentacle and my bLaster, I gripped the weapon more firmly. I wondered just what her reaction would be. She didn’t seem the type to submit quietly. I fully anticipated resistance, and despite my injuries I was relishing the thought of confronting her.

The air pressure attained a breathable level just before the pod reached the floor, and I reached out with my mind to locate the occupant. The security squad opened the door, but before I could see inside I knew something was wrong.

The inside of the pod was streaked with red, and the controls and communications equipment had been deliberately destroyed. The crumpled form within was not the Cue Cappan fugitive we had been looking for, but a breathless and bleeding Captain Frasier.

For a moment my bewilderment almost tipped into panic. Lock didn’t even flinch. “Medic!” He called, stepping forward to help the ragged human before him. The security squad began a detailed search of the tiny vessel, two of them flanking Lock protectively. Frasier was badly hurt, but was able to tell his brief story before he was rushed off for medical aid. The murderess had been on top of a cargo crate, and had managed to shoot him in both legs and disarm him before he even knew what was happening. Then she had simply wrapped herself around him and squeezed until he passed out. The next thing he remembered he was aboard the escape pod, with no sign of the Marilyn or the Endeavour in any direction. Frasier had patched up his wounds as best he could with the escape pod’s limited medical supplies, and then spent more than forty painful hours travelling through space, unable to alter his course or call for help. I wondered who would have the task of adding to his trauma by telling him that his ship and crew were nearly all gone.

I also wondered what had happened to the killer. Once Frasier had been hurried off by the medics, Lock asked me to join him and his senior staff for a discussion of that point. As someone who knew her well, Cane was asked to attend, but he replied flatly he didn’t know her at all and so it would be pointless him being there.

“The obvious implication”, I began “is that this was another decoy. We’ve spent fifteen hours recovering Frasier, and will have to spend another fourteen returning to the remains of the Marilyn. Add to that the thirty hours spent cutting Cane and myself free from the medbay, she could easily have made it to the Ceres warp point or be well on her way to some other location in this system.”
“I disagree.” Lock replied. “She activated the escape pods mere seconds before the explosion, and they had been docked near the front of the cargo bay. She would have probably avoided the bLast there, but she must have known that the cargo bay would almost certainly be torn open to space, and she couldn’t possibly survive that. Her actions were suicidal.”
“What about Frasier though? I can imagine she might prefer death to capture and try to take us with her, but in that case why spare him? She has never been bothered about mercy before.”
“Maybe she was prepared to die, but wanted a decoy to divert attention away from something other than herself.” Suggested Lock.
“Possibly, but what would she be willing to sacrifice herself to protect? It doesn’t fit with her behaviour. Everything I’ve seen from her so far has been utterly self-centred. I believe she’s alive somewhere.”
“Where then?” said Lock. “Could she have been in that first escape pod after all?”
“Only if she was dead, Sir.” replied the sensor specialist to whom the question had been directed. “Our sensors registered no life in that pod, and the sensors are in perfect order.” No-one bothered to ask if he had checked them- obviously a Terran Officer would never make such an assertion without being sure.
“Could the sensors be fooled?” I asked.
“They get their information from the energy emissions of the pod’s life support system. Those readings tell us exactly what the life support is doing, and that depends entirely upon the pod’s occupants. Theoretically, the life support system could be modified to fool our sensors, but it would make them virtually useless and it would also require time and tools she didn’t have while we were hunting her.”
“Perhaps she set it up in advance.” Said Lock. "She had weeks' of opportunity during the voyage."
“Possibly, but that would still require an awful lot of expertise and suspicious behaviour. I think it’s unlikely Sir, but it might be worth looking into it.”
“Any other possibilities?” Asked the acting Captain, massaging his forehead. “The freight containers?”
“Most of them are airtight,” offered another officer, consulting the Marilyn’s cargo roster “but none of them had life support. She’d run out of air pretty quickly, and the temperature would drop rapidly out in space. She’d be lucky to Last two hours in one of those.”
“Perhaps she was in a third escape pod.” I suggested. “Could she have waited until we’d gone, then launched another pod?”
“No.” Said Lock. “Those old pods launch automatically the instant the door is closed. If she didn’t close the door, then she would have been exposed when the cargo bay opened up. Back to square one.”
“Then we are returned to suicide, but I just don’t like it. I won’t be happy until I’ve seen a body.”
“I share your feelings, Mr Othaglot, but I can see no other possibility. In the meantime, I’ll get in touch with the Ceres warp station and tell them to look out for her. Then we’ll pick up the rescue team at the wreckage and drop off our casualties at New May. We can pick up the first escape pod on the way there, just in case.”

The meeting was ended with a heavy air of dissatisfaction.

[mlmbd]

dogscoff, it was just some helpful critiquing. I will be happy if the author is happy.

I love the chapter. The fact that they have no real clue as to where she is, is exccellent! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif

<font color=purple>mlmbd http://www.shrapnelgames.com//ubb/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/shock.gif </font>

[Baron Munchausen]

Three? let's see... the other escape pod is one. A sealed cargo container is another. What's the third?

I'm wondering when Othaglot is going to remember that they've seen cargo containers used for habitation before. Who's to say that there wasn't a cargo container with 'resources' put aboard Marilyn by the Gla when they put their passenger on? It might have had a space suit.

Also, If she came out of the freeze tube, she could have gone back in it, btw... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif How big are those things? Could she have moved it to a safe location (in a cargo container) and then put herself back in it?

[ March 10, 2003, 14:48: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[Krsqk]

Umm, 'Scoff, I can't get the chapter pages to load ("Cannot locate server" error). The other pages on your site work just fine.

[dogscoff]

Three? let's see... the other escape pod is one. A sealed cargo container is another. What's the third?

I'm wondering when Othaglot is going to remember that they've seen cargo containers used for habitation before.
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">The cargo container used for habitation before wasn't necessarily exposed to open space. If it was, it may have had life support.


Who's to say that there wasn't a cargo container with 'resources' put aboard Marilyn by the Gla when they put their passenger on? It might have had a space suit.
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">This is the joy of writing: You can make up as much stuff like this retrospectively as you like. However, I can tell you that I haven't done so on this occasion. The clues are all there in what you've already read.


Also, If she came out of the freeze tube, she could have gone back in it, btw... How big are those things? Could she have moved it to a safe location (in a cargo container) and then put herself back in it?
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Ah, but did she come out of the tube in the first place or didn't she? She might have done, but then she might not. And even if she didn't, that doesn't stop her ditching the corpse and using it anyway... but maybe she did, or then again, maybe she didn't... Or did she..? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

You've listed plenty of possibilities there beyond the ones I had in mind though (I like the way you think=-) but there are still more. By the way, although I heartily encourage speculation about where the plot may be going, don't expect me to confirm or deny anything http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

Krsqk: I can load them all ok from here. If you were trying to access chapter 20, it isn't on the site yet, you have to read it here.

(I'm currently 30% into chapter 21, and my mp3 player has just decided to play a Boney M track. If you see any lyrics from "Ra Ra Rasputin" appear randomly in the middle of the next chapter, you'll know why...)

[Krsqk]

Nope, I was trying for chapter 19, but it doesn't matter which one I try--I've done 1, 2, 9, 19, 18, etc. I was wrong about the error, though. It was a "The page cannot be displayed" error (at least it is this time http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif ). Everything else on your site still works fine for me.

[dogscoff]

Krsqk: Wierd. Like I say, it's fine here, I've just checked again. Just to make sure you have the right URL, click here: http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/fiction/O&C4.htm

Otherwise... dunno. I'll try it from a different machine when I get home. What browser are you using? Anyone else seeing this?

[dogscoff]

*bump* for any timezones just coming Online now. Wouldn't want you to miss the chapter I just posted=-)

krsqk - any luck? it woks fine from this PC to. You want me to mail you the doc files?

[ March 10, 2003, 20:53: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Krsqk]

Sorry, no luck. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif Now, it's giving me a 500 error, of all things. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif Probably just some freakishness of my ISP right now. Please go ahead and send the .doc file, if it's not too much trouble.

[dogscoff]

Krsqk, check your mail.

[Krsqk]

Got it, thanks.

[Baron Munchausen]

An interesting problem of SciFi is whether 'non-psychic' races have any ability to control access to their thoughts or if being 'psychic' is something completely outside normal mental abilities and 'non-psychics' are completely helpless in the 'psychic' realm. Different authors decide on different solutions. I see you have decided that normal minds can discipline themselves somehow or other and achieve some power to control access to their thoughts. If this is so, can they also learn to 'reach out' to other minds?

You see the paradox I am leading up to? If 'normal' minds can resist being read then they have the ability to control those same 'thought emanations' that psychics use for distance communication. So why would there be any genetic barriers to being completely psychic? Wouldn't training up to 'full abilities' necessarily be possible?

[dogscoff]

An interesting problem of SciFi is whether 'non-psychic' races have any ability to control access to their thoughts or if being 'psychic' is something completely outside normal mental abilities and 'non-psychics' are completely helpless in the 'psychic' realm. Different authors decide on different solutions. I see you have decided that normal minds can discipline themselves somehow or other and achieve some power to control access to their thoughts. If this is so, can they also learn to 'reach out' to other minds?

You see the paradox I am leading up to? If 'normal' minds can resist being read then they have the ability to control those same 'thought emanations' that psychics use for distance communication. So why would there be any genetic barriers to being completely psychic? Wouldn't training up to 'full abilities' necessarily be possible?
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">It's an interesting point. I have been planning to to close Cane off for a while now, mainly for the purposes of plot and character development. I figured that if the unjoined Cappans can do it, then so can humans.

To be honest the whole thing is a bit of a sci-fi cop out anyway as far as I'm concerned, since (a) the idea of all these races being so compatible/ similar is pretty absurd anyway and (b) I don't usually like psychic stuff in sci-fi. I think the suspension of disbelief necessary to believe in psychic powers in a technological setting is pushing the envelope a little too far. Of course hat begs the question "why use a psychic race in O&C then", but the simple answer is that when i wrote the first chapter of this story and included a Cue Cappan I had no idea that there would be a chapter 2.

But I digress... yeah. If there is such a thing as psychic powers/ telepathy (I'm doubtful), then I think the physics of it would be a far more complex and acute mechanism than just picking up the very faint and vague waves radiating from the brain.

If you believe that the mind is greater than (and even capable of existing outside of) the brain it resides in, then that would open up all kinds of possibilities for telepathy, remote viewing and all that mumbo jumbo.

Of course, we're edging into the spiritual realm here, but that's a whole other argument. Personally I don't necessarily think that you have to believe in any kind of supernatural stuff/ God/ spirit world to accept the possibility of the mind being beyond "ordinary" physics.

Man, if Fyron reads this thread he's gonna toast me for that Last remark=-)

To sum all that up, For the purposes of the scoffoverse we'll just say that psychic races are psychic, and the best anyone else can do is to learn to block them. I could try to explain it all with technobabble, but let's just not and pretend I did=-)

[ March 11, 2003, 16:52: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

You lucky, lucky people! 2 Chapters in 2 days! Here is chapter 21 for your entertainment. Chapter 22 is nearly ready, I just have to work out some dates and fill in some system names.

Enjoy.

==============================================
Othaglot & Cane: Chapter 21
==============================================
( click here for chapters 1-19. Chapter 20 is available further down this thread. (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm) )
==============================================

The Endeavour flew around the Gamallon system for a week, attempting to tidy up the mess caused by the destruction of the Marilyn. First, it returned to the old freighter’s wreck to collect the team left to search through the scattering debris. The hulk, still travelling on its original course and velocity toward the Ceres warp point, rolled idly in space, surrounded by a cloud of broken metal and spinning cargo containers. The engine portion had been utterly obliterated, and only a few twisted shards of hull remained of the massive cargo area. Somehow the bLast had been directed forward in a blade-like shape, splitting the remainder of the ship down the middle along more than half of its length: Only the frontmost third of the structure held the ship’s port and starboard together. An angular incision into one side of what used to be the cargo bay’s front wall showed where the medical bay had been surgically extracted.

By the time we came for them the search team had recovered bodies or body parts to account for everyone aboard at the time of the explosion. No Cue Cappan remains had been found, although they had not been ordered to look for any.

The crewman who had suffered from exposure had died without waking up, five days after the bLast. Of the Marilyn’s crew that left only Captain Frasier and a young woman named Yenn, a maintenance technician. Frasier was making a steady physical recovery. He would eventually require new legs, grown for him from his own DNA, but until he could get back to a planetary hospital he would be adequately mobile on military-issue prosthetics. According to Yenn however, his personality had become somewhat unpredictable, and she said that his appearance had aged 30 years since the bLast. He had already made arrangements with his insurance company to go back to the Marilyn with an assessor and salvage crew.

Mentally, I added forty-three counts of murder to the fugitive’s charge list: Seventeen personnel from the Endeavour and twenty-six from the Marilyn’s complement. Now that she had committed such a devastating crime in Terran space, the humans would want to try her themselves. As well as being pursued by the local police forces, the Terran military would now harbour a grudge against her for the Endeavour’s casualties. There was also the backdrop of military espionage alluded to by Enyemin Cane and the subsequent involvement of the intelligence agencies. Add to that the possible murder of various Vikings, her recent betrayal of the Gla and her list of enemies was growing long. Here in alien territory where no one has even heard of Frontier Order, I began to feel as though a queue was forming in front of me for this woman and in the case of an arrest, my demands for extradition would be pushed to the back of the line.

I voiced these concerns to Commander Lock, and after some consultation with his chain of command it was agreed that the entire incident was to be dealt with through the intelligence agency that was ‘borrowing’ me from Frontier Order. They ordered, via Lock’s superiors, that everything was to be kept as quiet as possible until my work on Plenty was concluded. The local law enforcement and space traffic management authorities were notified of the “accident” according to normal protocols, and the Endeavour’s crew removed and stored all evidence of sabotage was the ultimate conviction of the killer, if she still lived to be tracked down and brought to justice. When the salvagers came for the Marilyn, they would find nothing to contradict the official story of an engine malfunction.

Captain Frasier was outraged, since such a malfunction would affect his not only his reputation but also his insurance claim. Offers of compensation and talk of Federal security did little to lessen his anger, but eventually he accepted that he could do nothing about it, and reluctantly swore himself to secrecy.

Once business had been concluded with the Marilyn, the Endeavour pursued the first escape pod at full speed and found it empty as anticipated. Rather than proceed to New May, Lock decided to return to Plenty. With the death of the Marilyn’s Last casualty there was no longer any pressing need for medical facilities beyond the scope of the Endeavour’s own high-tech medbay, and the new destination was more convenient for everyone. The Endeavour would be able to replace its lost crew members from the military base there, I would be able to continue with my undercover assignment and Cane could return home to do whatever it was he had planned. Frasier was due to transfer to a salvage ship a week or so into Ceres, heading back to the wreck we had just left. Yenn insisted on going with him.

All this time, I found myself more and more alone. Cane avoided me religiously, hiding himself away with Loorl for days at a time. I used the time to research the viking cult, taking full advantage of the ship’s extensive information systems. Reluctantly, I reminded myself that the capture of the murderess was out of my jurisdiction and no longer any of my concern. I had to focus on the daunting task of infiltration ahead of me. I found I could learn far more easily without Loorl’s ‘tuition’, and by the time we reached the warp station I had absorbed the history of the ancient and modern cults, and most of the terminology and traditions I would have to emulate in my undercover role. All that remained was to learn the extensive mythology central to the story-telling rituals.

The ship picked up a dozen or so people at the warp station, dropping them at the sibling station on the other side to continue their journey. Now within the Ceres system, my goal was within sight. Plenty was a bright blue point at this distance, and with every passing day it grew brighter and rounder.

Eight days into Ceres, Captain Frasier and Yenn were due to take a shuttle to meet up with the salvage ship, and so a formal dinner was arranged to mark their departure. Lock and his officers were dressed in their finest red uniforms, and Loorl soon arrived in what he often described as his ‘best helmet’, although I knew him to possess only one. I was surprised when Cane entered the room and took the place laid for him. He was wearing a new suit, and only after some time did I realise what was strange about it. When he had explained in the Marilyn’s medbay that the skinsheet was his own, I had assumed he would have the Endeavour’s medical personnel graft it onto him to remove the scars from the mining colony. Instead he seemed to have opted to keep the scars and wear the skin as a suit, although who he had found on board with the necessary tailoring skills I could not imagine.

There was something strange going on between Cane and Loorl, and I took a look into Cane’s mind to find out exactly what it was. I was stunned at how suddenly I learned what it was.

All Cappans, as part of their education, are taught certain mental disciplines. These exercises structure their minds in a particular way, making them better hosts for Cue and allowing not only the cappans themselves but also joined individuals to more easily find information within that mind. A by-product of this education is that Cappans usually become sufficiently aware of their own mental processes that they can restrict access to probing psychics if they choose. General mind states and emotions will still be unblocked without further training, but specific information can be shielded. It is normal practise in my culture for both joined and unjoined to keep sensitive things hidden away in private, but allow access to the larger part of one’s knowledge to anyone who may need it.

The moment I tried to read Cane, it became instantly clear what he and Loorl had been doing in secret for the Last two weeks. Cane’s mind was completely surrounded by a barrier. His utter refusal to allow any kind of access to his mental space would be considered highly rude in Cue Cappan culture, and I flinched at the shock of it. Cane noticed my movement and smiled, turning to face me.
“I’ve learned some valuable lessons lately, Othaglot.” He said. “I hope you’ll excuse my distancing myself from you lately, but I felt I was at a disadvantage and I didn’t want to talk to you until I could do so on equal terms.”
I could still read his general mood, and he seemed more calm and balanced now than he had been since I first met him. This led me to hope that the mental self-examination required to attain this new skill had at least been therapeutic for him.

The meal began. I felt extremely uncomfortable, although Cane seemed entirely at ease. Loorl exhibited no small amount of glee at my discomfort. As usual, Loorl and I were served a large pile of unheated seafood, on this occasion it was something called salmon accompanied by crabsticks. The humans, as usual, had a wide variety of heated animals and vegetables to choose from. They also served wine, which I had not seen before. From Loorl’s reaction, I guessed it to be an intoxicant and I decided to accept a small amount for myself. I would doubtless need to drink the stuff in order to fit in with the vikings on Plenty. I drank very cautiously, and I had to admit that I found it acceptable, although it had a strange warming effect on my digestive system.

Twenty minutes into the meal, we were all listening to Captain Frasier recount some anecdote about his extensive travels when Loorl interrupted rudely.
Why aren’t you eating?”
The question was directed at Cane, who had accepted no food or wine, taking only water.
Cane flushed and stammered, and I understood the dilemma he was faced with. Would it be less polite in the eyes of these etiquette-conscious Earthers to acknowledge the interruption and reply to Loorl or to disrespectfully ignore him for Frasier’s sake? Whichever he did would probably have been wrong, but Frasier mercifully baled him out, making allowances for Loorl even though I sometimes thought he had a better grip on the Earther mentality than either myself or Cane.
“I imagine he’s fasting.” Said Frasier, and Cane nodded.
Loorl looked shocked, and Cane laughed. “Don’t worry, as an outsider you won’t be expected to participate.”
“Why would anyone deliberately deny themselves food?” Asked Loorl.
“It’s a tradition on Plenty.” Cane replied. “In the week before the summer festival we take in nothing but water, in memory of what happened during the Oxy War.”
There was an uneasy silence, and Frasier broke it. ”Since Mr Othaglot and Mr Loorl will soon be visiting Plenty for the first time, perhaps a little history would be a good thing. I’ll be happy to tell the story if it’s difficult for you Mr. Cane, but I’m sure it would be more accurate coming from a native of the planet.”
Cane nodded quietly, and fell silent for a few moments, his headed dropped. After a few moments he looked up. His face was wet.
“Excuse my emotion. This story always touches me, ever since I heard my Grandfather tell it for the first time. He would always cry when he told it, but he would never start the story without finishing. I’ll try to tell it as faithfully as he did.”
He paused again and began. Story telling for anything other than practical purposes is a rare thing among my people: We prefer to describe things as they are rather than how they came to be. My study of humans, however, leads me to believe it is something of an art form among them. The Viking cult, certainly, revel in it. It seems to be an instinctive part of their nature, the result – or maybe the cause – of their linear minds. From the responses of the others around the table, I could tell that Cane was a good story-teller. For my own part, I listened with interest, but all the time I was self-consciously aware that this was something the wiring of my mind would never allow me to fully appreciate.

[ March 11, 2003, 14:00: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[mlmbd]

dogscoff, Originally posted by dogscoff:
You lucky, lucky people! 2 Chapters in 2 days!<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Why, yes we are. I like it, very much! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

<font color=purple>mlmbd http://www.shrapnelgames.com//ubb/icons/icon6.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/shock.gif </font>

[Suicide Junkie]

To sum all that up, For the purposes of the scoffoverse we'll just say that psychic races are psychic, and the best anyone else can do is to learn to block them. I could try to explain it all with technobabble, but let's just not and pretend I did=-)<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Why not say that the Psychic race can only pick up your thoughts... If you aren't and don't think about something, its hardly going to be pickuppable, right?
Like a biological CAT scanner or MRI, watching the activity patterns in your brain. And from experience, knowing what they mean...

In conversation, they would be able to try and steer your thoughts by your reactions to what they say and do, making it seem like their abilities are much more powerful than they really are.

[Baron Munchausen]

Well, obviously we have lots of unanswered questions. There are uses for background information, both for the world and for the characters, so I don't think it's 'dragging' yet. And we expect inter-stellar travel to take some time even with 'warp points' to save the bulk of it. But it's got to be time to start answering some of those questions soon, I hope?

[dogscoff]

Here's Chapter 22. Not sure when you can expect to see chapter 23, but you've all been waiting for this for too long.

Earlier chapters are available on this thread and on my website, although i know that the website is missing some of the more recent chapters.

I'm finding this story harder and harder to tell lately, and I'm really starting to feel that it's drifting off in the wrong direction. I'd really appreciate any feedback on this. Does anyone think there's too much emphasis on the emotional side of things lately? is it getting bogged down? Is it clear what's happening to the two main characters in terms of their development since their reunion? I find it really hard to look at it objectively, I'd really appreciate some help.

Anyway, here it is, Chapter 22.
*****************************************

Cane began his tale.
“The Oxy wars took place about fifty years ago- I’m afraid I can’t translate that into the Earth or Cue Cappan Calendar.”
“Fifty-nine years on Earth, about forty Cue Cappan.” Chipped in the Navigational Officer, who had a huge store of such facts and figures available for instant retrieval.
“Thank you.” Continued Cane, now addressing myself and Loorl. “This is all long before we made contact with your Commonwealth, so I should explain a little of the background history. Ceres IV was colonised just under eighty years ago - Plenty years - at the end of the first great human expansion. It has a favourable climate, huge surface area and rich natural resources, so it was quite a prize. To this day it is the wealthiest, most heavily populated planet of any nation in the known galaxy, if you discount homeworlds.”
Everyone nodded sagely, including Loorl who had adopted the habit of bobbing his eye stalks to indicate a nod.
“With the scarcity of uninhabited nitrogen/ oxygen-atmosphere planets in the galaxy and the proliferation of oxygen breathing species looking for worlds to colonise, a planet like that was bound to cause aggravation for whoever got there first. We did, and none of the other oxygen races were happy about it. Most notably, the Sergetti claimed to have had a coloniser fleet on the way which mysteriously disappeared just before arrival.”
Several of the crew grumbled sourly at this point, and Cane chuckled at their response. He explained for the benefit of the non-humans.
“Even though the war ended half a century ago, anti-Sergetti sentiments are still strong on Earth.”
I sympathised, but did not mention the uneasy relations between the Sergetti and my own people.
“Ironically,” added Cane, “those feelings are now almost non-existent on Plenty, where we have the best reason to hate them.” The audience fell silent again, allowing Cane to continue.
“The Sallega also claimed to have rights to this system, since it is close to their space, and there were at least two other oxygen breathing species who wanted it. Now this was shortly after Earth’s first contact with these races- who were among the first non-humans we had ever met- and interstellar relations were shaky to say the least. The framework we have now for interspecies trade and politics was not in place, and in a way, this lack of understanding was one of things that delayed the inevitable war. We all knew very little about one other and no one wanted to risk conflict with an unknown opponent. As understanding and political co-operation grew, however, so did jealousy and discontentment. Twenty-five years later, when Earth colonised some oxygen moon in the Quikil system, the Segetti declared it the latest act in a greedy monopolisation of the galaxy, which had started with the unlawful colonisation of Ceres IV. A coalition of the Sergetti, Sallega, Praetorian and Piundon declared war on Earth. It was fairly evenly matched. Due our extensive colonisation, we Terrans were by far the largest power in the known galaxy, and with support from the methane-breathing Druckshoka we were able to hold them off.

Plenty, as we had optimistically named Ceres IV, had grown impressively in the three decades it had been colonised. Although its industrial and economic contribution was limited in comparison to the homeworld’s output, it was strategically important and so was equipped with impressive defensive installations and considered itself ready for any attack. However, no enemy fleet came. The Sergetti had a far more sinister offensive planned, concentrating their firepower instead on the eastern end of the Terran territories.

The Sergetti captured a human officer and then allowed her to escape in the southern portion of their empire. She stole a ship – as they had intended her to do – and made her way to the nearest human outpost, which at that time was Plenty. Unfortunately, they had introduced into her gut a specially engineered breed of Sergetti knife-worm, suspended in tiny capsules. Within hours of the escapee’s triumphant arrival, the capsules made their way into the environment and dissolved as they were designed to. The knife-worms were released and began to multiply.

Plenty has no native animal life, but it has evolved its own plants, which happen to be toxic to just about everything. Therefore humans had to either ship in all their food or set up the ecosystem necessary to grow it there. Setting up a full ecosystem takes decades, even over a small area like the islands which hold Plenty’s human population. Hydroponics and dome farms and so on are all very well, but on a fertile planet like Plenty it is far more economical and reliable in the long run to have old fashioned farms growing meat and vegetables in the context of a fully self-sustaining ecosystem.

First, then, they introduced bacteria, grasses, mosses, plankton and seaweeds from Earth which competed extremely well with the less-evolved native flora. After just five years or so, the terraformers were confident enough to introduce herbivorous insects, small plant-eating mammals and fish, and a variety of more complex plants. The animal life flourished, and soon minor predators had to be introduced to keep their numbers in check, with larger herbivores and other creatures imported and released later at the appropriate stages. Balancing all of the different parts of the complex food web, from tiny bacteria all the way up to humans, is crucially important and extremely difficult, and it is now understood that the original plan for Plenty’s ecosystem was far too ambitious- They introduced too much too soon. In thirty years they had almost a complete ecosystem installed around the inhabited islands, but and it was unstable. Every year one link or another in the food chain would be verging on extinction or explosion.

The Sergetti knew all this and their voracious knife-worms tipped the balance. They damaged everything they encountered on land or sea, multiplying more rapidly than anything could kill them and feeding at an unsustainable rate. They ate the introduced plankton and plant life, but they would also infest the digestive system of animals, including humans, knotting together to cause painful and damaging blockages. With the basic plant life under attack, the ecosystem was doomed. Once they had eaten every shred of introduced chlorophyll on the entire planet the knife-worms starved to extinction, but the damage was done. Plenty had only a month’s worth of food stored up. The Sergetti moved to block relief ships from Earth, forcing us to divert fleets away from the eastern front in an attempt to get supplies through.

With all the introduced plant life gone, people ate the starving cattle and other herbivores, and then when the herbivores were gone they ate the starving carnivores and then the starving scavengers. Then everything was gone. A few pockets of introduced life remained in unreachable parts of the ocean but effectively, there were now just the humans, the inedible native plants, dirt-and dung eating bugs and the flies which fed off the dead humans. In the end the people of Plenty were reduced to eating worms, maggots, fabrics and even – allegedly – one another.

It was horrific. Four million people – a third of the planet’s population - were dead within five months of the first knife-worm. At was at this point that a Terran and Drukshocka joint offensive seized a number of key Sergetti planets and forced the coalition to make peace. The Sergetti themselves flew in the first relief packages to Plenty, and were allowed to establish a community in the planet’s vast ocean as part of the peace treaty’s terms. Disease and malnutrition affected every single survivor to some extent, and more than a half of them were destined to die less than two months after the aid finally came.”

Everyone had stopped eating.

“My grandfather lived through it all.” said Cane, solemnly. “So did my father, but he was just a baby. My Grandmother and her three other children all died in the famine. All of my mother’s family was wiped out except for her and my uncle. My Grandfather died ten years ago on Festival’s Eve, at just eighty-eight years old. He was one of one of the Last of Plenty’s first-generation colonists, and until the day he died his cupBoards were always stocked with a half-year’s worth of food.”

Loorl looked guiltily at his plate. I noticed with some alarm that I had already emptied my wine glass. It didn’t seem to have affected me so I accepted some more.
“That is why we fast.” Concluded Cane.

The meal had a rather more solemn tone after that, although it did recover a certain amount of joviality toward the end. For once I was actually enjoying myself, my frustrations at being restricted to just conversation and eating forgotten for the time being. I was pleased that Cane seemed to be prepared to converse with me once more, although he was understandably quiet for the rest of the meal. He left the table quite soon after finishing his story, leaving me with Loorl, who for some reason seemed more tolerable than usual. I retired that night more satisfied than I had been in months, and awoke the next morning with a persistent, thumping ache in my brains.

Loorl came to find me in the morning, making loud and irritating jokes about hangovers, whatever they are. I was feeling far too uncomfortable to take much notice. He told me that Cane had persuaded him to resume my instruction in viking lore, and that he would try to be more tolerant of my intolerance. Under ordinary circumstances I would have thrown him out and told him exactly where he could tolerate his instructions, but I took the quieter option and accepted his peace gesture.

We began immediately. Loorl started in his usual style, speaking authoritatively on a subject I had already researched for myself. Within ten minutes, as usual, he had meandered away from the topic in hand to tell a tale about the time he and his friends had been drinking with the murdered human. Rather than provoke another argument, I simply allowed him to talk, listening absently to his words, and discovering that my brain-ache made it very uncomfortable to read his mind. It soon became clear that he was inventing much of this re-telling - his official accounts of his night in the container had been very complete and not consistent with what he was saying now- and I was about to dispute this fact with him when suddenly it all clicked into place. I knew he was making it all up, and he knew that I knew, but it didn’t matter. That’s what he had been trying to teach me all along. He had altered the events of the night to include a lengthy retelling of one of the old myths and I felt a pang of recognition. The myth he had woven into the story concerned the thunder god Thor. Thor’s hammer had been stolen by a giant named Thrym, and in exchange for its return the thief demanded Freya, a much desired Goddess, as his wife. Freya was unwilling to participate, so Thor himself disguised himself as a bride to retrieve his property.
I suddenly realised that the story was about me: He was drawing a parallel with my undercover mission to infiltrate the Viking clan in the guise of the murderess. From the emphasis of certain parts of the tale I also guessed that Loorl cast himself as Loki, the quick-witted half-god, half-giant trickster who accompanies Thor and explains away Thrym’s suspicions.

This story-telling that I had dismissed as childish foolery had taken on a new depth, and I listened carefully to the rest of his tale. I was at once gratified and dismayed by the ending in which Thor successfully accomplishes his mission, but then having retrieved his hammer bludgeons Thrym and his family to death with it. By the end of the story I had much to think about. His story concluded, Loorl left to find some of his new human friends. He was genuinely surprised as he exited when I thanked him for the lesson.

Alone again and lost in my thoughts, for the first time in a long time I took time to stare out at the stars. This time, the sense of peace and comfort I normally find in the void escaped me, and I felt something I do not ever remember feeling before- loneliness.

*********************

Addendum- the norse tale Loorl told is known as Thrym's Lay. If you want to read it for yourself, there are a million Versions of it available Online.Click here for one of them. (http://www.yorku.ca/bzatzman/idea2001/bergen.html)

[dogscoff]

EDIT: obselete post. Thanks for your comments BM.

[ June 04, 2003, 09:52: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Not so much a bump, more of a gentle nudge

[ June 04, 2003, 09:52: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

No new chapters to report i'm afraid, but I have just updated my website to include the Last four chapters or so, which had been missing.

Also, following the discussion on this thread from a few pages ago, I've re-ordered the story a bit to make it a little more linear. The content hasn't changed at all, just the order of certain chapters.

[dumbluck]

It's been so long since I've had time to read all the stories floating around, I'm gonna have to go back and read them all from the beginning. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif

[dogscoff]

hey dumbluck that should be a http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif not a http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif ... if I had time I'd love to sit and read all the fanfic on this forum back to back, even the stuff I've already read.

[dogscoff]

uh oh: check out "hero" rule number 68- (http://www.sff.net/paradise/lists.htm) Cane could be in trouble.

I'm pleased to say I've managed to avoid most of these plot pitfalls so far...

[dogscoff]

*Taps mic experimentally. Blows dust off it.

Uhh.. hello? Anyone still out here, or did you all wander off? Well, if there is anyone left, I've just finished a new chapter. I've finally managed to leap some of the plot-hurdles that were holding me back, and I think things will soon be good once more.

This chapter is a bit of a recap, summarising some of the plot points from earlier chapters. It also sets us up for what is to come. If anyone notices any glaring holes in the plot, please let me know, I've been inside it for far too long to look at it objectively.

Anyway, enough BS, here it is:

=============================================
Othaglot and Cane, Chapter 23. For previous chapters, click here. (http://sandman43.fsnet.co.uk/se4fiction.htm)
=============================================
The “Bocca al Lupo” lowered itself gracefully into orbit, and from my viewport I saw the distant outline of the Worthwhile Endeavour, no doubt preparing to leave by now. It wouldn't have done my credibility as a fugitive much good to arrive on a naval starship, and so I had been given a feasible cover story and transferred to a civilian craft about week from Plenty. She was registered locally, and I couldn’t be sure whether the crew’s boisterousness was normal behaviour for Plentians or whether they were simply glad to be home.

I was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Enyemin Cane.
“Mr Othaglot, good to see you in the flesh at Last.” He said, in that jovial way of his.
“Quite astonishing that, ah, incident on the way over. Dashed sorry to have put you through all that, but I suppose now your killer is out of the picture, so to speak.”
I had my own doubts about this, as I had discussed with Commander Lock. I made a non-commital sound.
“Anyway, the intelligence people asked me to brief you. No doubt they’re afraid to send one of their own people in case you read their minds and find out all their dirty little secrets.” He laughed heartily, but we both knew there was probably truth in his remark.
I shook the senior Cane’s hand, and took a moment to look at him more closely. Like his nephew he was a little shorter than the Earth-born humans I had met, probably as a result of Plenty’s above-average gravity. Like Captain Frasier he seemed to be somewhat rounder than the norm, but unlike the unfortunate captain he dressed almost to accentuate the shape, thus increasing his already considerable presence. He spoke loudly and, if the accent assigned to him by my translator was a reflection of his true voice, with a hint of privilege. As he came closer to me and took a seat, I noticed that his skin was indeed blue- I had dismissed this as data corruption when I had seen it in his Messages. I was sure that this wasn’t a natural colour for humans so asked him about it, eager to find conversation and with it an opportunity to study his mind.
“Oh, the skin. Well, call it a disguise. That nephew of mine tells me it’s terribly out of fashion, and that I should use my natural coloration like the youngsters do, but what he fails to realise is that I have an image to maintain. Now by homeworlder standards I’m as shocking and unruly as anyone else on this planet, but most of the locals regard me as something of a conservative- Last of the Old Colonials, they call me. To them I’m just a harmless, blustery old stuffed shirt with his foolish head full of cobwebs and overpriced brandy... oh, this probably isn’t making much sense to you, dear boy, but just take my word for it when I say that sometimes it pays to be underestimated.”
“Not in my line of work.” I replied. “In my job I have to give the impression that I’m twelve times smarter, quicker and tougher than I really am.”
His smile gave way to laughter, before turning into an altogether more serious mood. “Well then, my boy, I’m glad I’m not a detective. I certainly don’t envy you the task before you now.”
“I have extensive undercover experience, and I’ve studied the Viking culture in depth. I’ll be fine.” I asserted, noting with grim irony that I sounded twelve times less scared than I really was.
“Well, I may have some new information to help you along. Most of what we know was included in the report I sent to you in Outlier, but we’ll go over it anyway, just for the sake of being thorough.”
I appreciated this scrupulousness. I was beginning to suspect that the man beneath the façade was someone I could really work with. He opened a small case and extracted an array of papers.
“We have identified your headless Viking.” he began “I have his details here, but to tell the truth they are of little interest. The important thing is that he was a trusted member of the Jormungund clan, recruited four years ago by this fellow.”
Cane showed me an image of a thin human with a large mass of hair on the lower half of his face.
“His Viking name is Tor Hammer, but he was born Jemmt Andrel Viscount. Middle class, well educated, various radical political affiliations in his teens and early adulthood. He came into a little money at a relatively young age and built himself up a small business empire- legitimately, as far as we can tell. Then, despite his success, he cashed most of it in and joined the Jormungund back on Earth, around 10 years ago. Back then it was just another gang of drinkers and brawlers- rather odd company for our entrepreneur- but he soon made his way to the top of the pile. Information is sketchy about this period because the intelligence agencies pretty much ignored the whole viking phenomenon until Mr. Hammer started making his presence felt.

He first caught intel’s attention four years ago, when they noticed that his name was turning up repeatedly in conversation with various ambassadorial types. I’ve met him myself on at least two occasions. It seems he had been using his old business connections to cultivate contacts and even recruit in political and diplomatic circles. A year after that he handed control of his clan over to his second-in-command and came out here to found the Plenty chapter. He’s been holding meetings with various alien parties for some time now, and we’re fairly sure he’s used the Jormungund to do ‘favours’ for the Sallegan and Sergetti. Nothing necessarily illegal, but all very secretive: Information gathering, couriering and so on. There are suggestions that he may even have contacted the Piundon.”
“What do you think he’s hoping to achieve?” I asked. “If money was his only motivation it would have paid him more to stay with his business pursuits.”
“That’s the big puzzle, and we’re hoping that you will be able to answer it for us. This latest stunt- the so-called ‘petty theft’ from the military research lab- is a definite step up in the scale of the Jormungund’s activities. We’re hoping it will give us- give you- the opportunity to uncover their agenda.”
“So you’re sure that the theft was perpetrated by the clan?”
“No. We are sure of the thief’s identity, but we’ve no solid proof that he was a Viking. We are sure that he was a known associate of Olric, your headless man. We believe they hadn’t seen one-another for a few years, and then suddenly they were spotted together several times in the weeks running up to the break-in. Both of them disappeared from view immediately afterwards. Those facts, combined with our belief that the Jormungund have been doing these ‘favours’ are enough to make us suspect that he stole the data on their behalf.”
In my opinion there were far too many uncertainties underpinning this case, but that’s the difference between police work and intelligence work. Spies don’t have to prove their assertions before a court. They are accountable only to their own superiors. I pressed for more information.
“What sort of data was stolen?”
“It was the design for some kind of new armour, apparently. Supposed to protect warships more effectively from weapons damage, give them an advantage in combat. We assume they were stolen on some foreign government’s behalf- the Sallegans, probably, they’re always trying to keep up with us- but it’s possible they have something else in mind.”
“Something else?” I was alarmed. “You think the Vikings are planning to use the information themselves? Build warships with it?” The idea of a fully armed warship crewed by a crowd of rowdy, helmet clad drunkards like Loorl filled me with a kind of dread I had never before experienced.
“We can’t afford to rule it out. The Viking organisation has quite a bit of funding behind it, thanks largely to Mr Hammer, and to tell you the truth the only thing we’ve managed to predict with any certainty so far is that we never know what they’ll do next. In short, we wouldn’t put anything past them.”
This was an extremely unsettling notion. How could I ever hope to survive in such a chaotic culture? Cane sensed my discomfort and changed the subject.
“Anyway. As I say, the thief and his associate both disappeared after taking the plans, we assume they were in hiding together. We knew about his connection to the Viking fellow so we started watching the clan immediately, and that way we’re almost certain that neither of them had a chance to pass the stolen data to the rest of the Jormungund. However, we’ve since been able to work out Olric’s movements and he left Earth just two days after the theft, 12 hours before his friend was slashed to death. The plans weren’t found on the body.”
He made a significant face at me, no doubt checking to see that the importance of this statement had sunk in. It had.
“So Olric could have had the data, in which case it may have been taken to Outlier and then stolen by the Gla when he was beheaded.”
“Yes.”
“Alternatively, it’s possible that the thief held on to the plans. If his killer really was my suspect, then she could have taken the data. From Earth she must have gone directly to the Cue Cappan homeworld, and from there to Outlier.”
“That is another possibility.”
“Or, one of them handed the data over to some unknown party in the two days after the theft.”
“Perhaps.”
“Finally, Olric or the murderess could have passed it on, hidden it or lost it anywhere on their travels between Earth, Outlier and my homeworld.”
“Also true.” The human said, solemnly. “That’s why we’ve brought you in. We have people searching every rock between here, your homeworld and ours, but as you can imagine their chances aren’t good. For now our best chance of finding out where the designs are is by infiltrating the Viking organisation. That is your primary objective. Your secondary objective is to find out why they took them in the first place. If it was under contract from a foreign government, we want to know which one. If not, well then we definitely want to know what they’re up to.”
“What about the Cue Cappan secret service? Have they been able to give you anything?”
“Only you. They say they’re investigating their own Viking clans and the movements of your suspect between Earth and Outlier, but to be honest they don’t seem very hopeful.”
I looked into his mind, and I was fairly sure that he wasn’t holding anything back. He himself had obviously been briefed on a need-to-know basis, since it would be very hard for him to keep secrets from me. Unaware of my psychic scrutiny, he paused and pulled his face into an expression I didn’t understand. It was my turn to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. Eventually, I asked the only question I could think of.
“Where do I start?”
“We’ve identified a likely starting point for you. It’s a bar in Primavera called the Bifrost Lodge. It’s a popular spot for Vikings from the Loki clan. The man you’ll need to speak to is one of them. As well as being a part of the cult, he’s known to deal in stolen goods, and he has contacts with the Jormungund, who are all keeping their heads down following the theft. Your man’s name is Erik the Shed. Make yourself known to him, and we hope they’ll make themselves known to you.”
I bobbed my eyestalks in agreement. “And what about my identity?”
“We’ve gathered together the information we have the woman you were tracking, and to be honest there isn’t much. We know that she travelled under this false identity to get to Outlier,” he handed me some convincing Cue Cappan documents in the name of Gleesl, “and that she used the name ‘Sloo’ aboard the Marilyn. That might be her real name.”
“If it is, it’s only part of it.” I explained. “She was joined, so her full name would be longer than just “Sloo.”
“I see.” Said Cane. “Well, following up your own investigations, your homeworld colleagues have been able to inform us that she was a member of the Hreidmar clan there. Also, it’s possible that news of her escape from Outlier and the subsequent destruction of the Marilyn will have made its way here. The Lupo was in Gamallon at the same time as you, so if anyone asks, you can claim that you wanted to make your trail as complicated as possible and took a shuttle across to the Lupo shortly after leaving Outlier. We’ve already made the necessary changes to the records, in case anyone tries to confirm it, but if they should speak to a member of the crew you could be in trouble. For that reason I recommend you stay here another 24 hours and go down to the surface tomorrow. The Lupo will be leaving orbit shortly afterwards, making it a little harder to disprove your story.”
I was comforted that they were at least trying to cover every possible angle for me.
Cane reached into his case once more, and produced a few items for me.
“Here’s a Viking helmet. You may want to wear it in to get those distinctive sore patches on your eye stalks.” They really had covered everything. “Here’s an emblem for your clan- I believe you should wear it on the helmet, seeing as you don’t have any other garments. We’ve also procured for you a cheap, market- bought translator. It’s not as sophisticated as the one you currently carry, I’m afraid, but your Frontier Order issue equipment is something of a giveaway.” He smiled, but I could tell the smile was hiding something else. I reached into his mind and touched upon was a sense of finality there, as though he were arming a soldier for a battle from which he knew there could be no return.
“There are various other items in this bag. There’s no weapon, you’ll have to get through customs fair and square, but we can direct you to a place where you can buy one. Illegally, I’m afraid, but we’ve made arrangements to ensure the local police don’t catch you at it. There’s some information about your clan in this data pack, you’ll have more than enough time to familiarise yourself with it tonight. I can keep your own belongings safe for you if you like, or I can have them forwarded to your office.”
I chose the former option and handed over my carry-pouch: It contained my only possessions for 50 light years and my entire identity. Cane stood up, gesturing with the hand that held the pouch.
“When this is all over, come and find me at the foreign office to pick this up. I’ll have a large brandy and a cigar waiting for you.”
I mumbled a thankyou and bobbed my eyes.
“Is there anything else you need?”
I could think of nothing.
“Then I’ll bid you farewell, Mr Othaglot. Farewell and good luck.”

[Baron Munchausen]

Well, I'm glad you haven't completely forgotten us. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif But this feels a bit rushed. Couldn't we have been in on the actual move to the other ship to prepare his background cover? And was there any mention of the other 'victim' in any previous chapter? But suddenly there he is in Cane's background story.

Also, a theft of a new military technology is hardly a 'petty' theft!

[dogscoff]

Well, I'm glad you haven't completely forgotten us. But this feels a bit rushed.
<font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">I can believe that, it's kind of a first draft for this chapter=-) I'll probably re-read and refine it in a chapter or two.

Couldn't we have been in on the actual move to the other ship to prepare his background cover? <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Well, I only thought of it after finishing the Last chapter, and to be honest there;s nothing too interesting about it.

And was there any mention of the other 'victim' in any previous chapter?
But suddenly there he is in Cane's background story. <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">Yes, there was. *rummages through notes* ... Extract from Chapter 14:

It seems the human homeworld police were looking for a known associate of our Olric following an incidence of “petty theft” some 30 or 40 weeks ago. Mr Cane Senior was not convinced. “Between you and me, the intelligence agencies were involved and it sounds like they were turning the entire bloody galaxy upside- down for him. He showed up dead in an alley a week later with very strange wounds
and Chapter 16:

You remember I mentioned a “petty theft” connected to an associate of your victim? Well, the associate was another of these Viking types, and the theft was from a military research lab. I said it didn’t look too petty, didn’t I? Ha!


Also, a theft of a new military technology is hardly a 'petty' theft! <font size="2" face="Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif">See above.

[dogscoff]

And another one. As you know I'm no expert on weaponry, so if anyone finds anything in the gun-dealer's scene that needs attention, please let me know.

*************************************************
Othaglot & Cane, Chapter 24.
Chapters 1-22 here (http://www.sandman43.fsnet.co.uk), chapter 23 a few Posts down.
*************************************************

A day later I was in a shuttle, blazing down deep into the atmosphere, Plenty's fierce sky and all-encompassing ocean painting a sheer canvas of blue before me. The pilot- a talkative human named Chell with rope-like hair and intricate tattoos - had plunged from orbit and levelled out at a point several thousand kilometres from the space port, so we would be another few hours in flight before landing. It's not a particularly efficient way of getting from place to place, but I've noticed that Cue Cappan pilots often do the same thing when they've been off-planet for a long spell- Maybe it's just a way of prolonging their brief respite from space, or perhaps they need time to readjust to the idea of nothing but atmosphere above their heads before venturing out into the open. Either way, I welcomed the chance to see something of this planet before facing the mission ahead.

As we cruised at just a few kilometres' altitude, I watched Plenty's single ocean roll serenely along beneath us, stretching away to the horizon, largely uninterrupted for sixty thousand kilometres in all directions. Every few minutes we would pass over one of the clusters of flat, roundish little islands that make this planet's only claims to dryness, the unvaried dull yellow of the native plant life looking appropriately humble against the shining cobalt of the sea.

It was half an hour before we encountered anything more interesting. Chell pointed out a number of light patches in the water, each one perfectly circular and attended by a smattering of ships and floating platforms.
"Underwater mining." The pilot shouted over her shoulder. The shuttle’s engine wasn’t particularly loud, but she needed to shout because the music blaring from somewhere- which could have easily passed for unshielded engine noise- drowned her out. "Plenty's huge, but more than nine-tenths of the surface is ocean so obviously most of the good stuff’s on the sea bed."
"What about the Sergetti population?" I yelled, removing the viking helmet and tenderly testing the irritated skin it revealed. "I thought their government had rights to the ocean."
"No, just some of it, and technically they're only renting that. They have a few little cities out in the depths somewhere, although obviously they don’t get too many visits from air-breathers like us. They aren't the most welcoming people anyway, if you get my meaning.”
"How can you trust them?" I asked. "After the war, I mean."
"That was a long time ago. I mean they don't particularly like aliens but they have kind of gotten used to us. Anyway, I'm sure the secret services keep an eye on their comings and goings, they must have their methods."
I felt a rush of cold at this Last statement. Obviously, going undercover in any circumstances inspires a certain degree of healthy paranoia, but in this case I was running on overdrive.

Soon we started to see inhabited islands, all or partly colonised by introduced plants that offered countless shades of green in neatly farmed shapes. Few of them held more than one small settlement, and where they did winding, narrow roads reached out to connect the little pockets of civilisation. It was strange to see such development inland when the beaches were so clear, but I suppose it would be just as strange for a human to see an island virtually untouched in the middle, and yet completely encircled by the busy canals and buildings we construct in the coastal shallows.

According to Chell there were nearly three hundred thousand of these tiny landmasses on Plenty, each one on average 20km wide. I did some quick multiplication and estimated around 18 million km of coastline on this planet- probably more. This would have made a perfect home for my own people, had we been the ones lucky enough to find it first. Little wonder the Sergetti were prepared to go to war for it.

"It’s not normal land, though.” She shouted suddenly. “There's hardly any real land on Plenty at all. You get the odd volcanic crater but all these islands you see here are made by a type of plant. Do you get anything like coral where you come from?"
We don't, and I suddenly missed my own translator which probably could have provided a brief explanation from its cultural database. Much to my relief Chell actually turned down her music in order to converse at a more conversational level.
"Well, it's a bit like that. This plant builds up a kind of mineral residue, you see. It grows slowly from the seabed in a con until it gets to the surface, then the exposed bit dies off and another layer grows around it, dies off and so on. That’s why they’re all so round and flat, and why the terrain has that ring pattern. The largest island on the entire planet is eighty Ks across, and they say it's more than 200 million years old."

This education continued for over an hour, interrupted only occasionally when my tutor would turn the music up temporarily to fully appreciate what she described as a "good bit". Ever eager to increase my knowledge about the environment I would be working in, I listened carefully as she moved away from geology to provide a brief description of the local customs and quirks, a quick who’s who of prominent local personages and a rundown on some of the more conspicuous sub-cultures and ethnic Groups I could expect to encounter. She talked animatedly about the Viking cult and some friends of hers in the Idunna clan, and then went on to provide lengthy descriptions of all the best bars, hotels and markets in our destination city. Finally, she gave me details of how to get free drinks in certain Sergetti eating establishments, how to con your way into the best seats at Mossy Molasses' DrukZuzz-Jazz Joint and not only how to recognise Salzalum street-muggers, but how to convince them you're part of their gang and claim a share of the night’s takings. Although I found her conversation exhausting and her ethics questionable, I felt sure that if they ever met, she and Cane would get on well.

She stopped talking once we found ourselves approaching Primavera, Plenty's largest archipelago and primary city. We absorbed the sight of it together in silence. The air here was thick with traffic, mainly in the form of orbital shuttles like our own, queuing for landing spots on the massive floating platform that appeared to bear the city’s spaceport. Furthermore, hundreds of vessels could be seen ploughing V shapes into the waters around the main sea port, which was an artificial extension to the most eastern island. Six or seven more islands of equivalent size and a dozen or so smaller ones huddled close behind, all haphazardly tied together by a jumble of artificial causeways and wide bridges. Low-altitude airships distributed goods to rooftops while a swarm of faster planetary aircraft buzzed to and fro, skimming to a halt on the water or parking delicately on or in the high-rise architecture. Almost every scrap of available space was piled high with towers, domes and blocks in conflicting colours, most of them clearly having been designed and erected without any particular consideration for whatever lay right next to it. Hazy geometry beneath the waves indicated that a lack of dry land was no obstacle to urban growth, and I realised that I must be looking at Primavera’s Sergetti quarter. Several pressurised transit-tubes ran from the islands into the sea towards this district, providing an interface between the air and water breathing populations.

Altogether, the effect was overwhelming. The myriad construction styles and materials battling for attention were representative of a thousand cultures and eras from a hundred planets and a dozen sentient races. It was as though all of known space had been compressed into this tiny arena, where only the loudest, the pushiest and most assertive would stand a chance of ever getting noticed. Thanks to my career in Frontier Order I had travelled extensively through Commonwealth space and I used to think I’d seen. This though, this was vast and unknown and for a moment I was humbled. I felt like some rural homeworld Orro who'd lived an entire life in a remote swamp village, then suddenly thrust unprepared into the thriving, cosmopolitan distraction of the Capital.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth.

The feeling of awe soon faded into the background, and I came to the conclusion that although I was impressed by Primavera, I didn’t like it. Although undoubtedly a hugely different scale, in many respects it was just like the scrappy trading outPosts and frontier spaceports I had spent my entire career policing. Driven by commerce and industry at a rate the authorities and planners could never hope to keep up with, it had become a brash, undisciplined, anarchic junkpile of a place. I could almost sense lawlessness rising off this city like a bad smell.

And in that moment it hit me: I hate places like this. Why had I spent my entire life working in them? How had I failed for so long to realise that I am so ill-suited to my lifestyle? Now here I was, after a career dedicated to risking my life to protect cramped, tiny, noisy little colonial cesspits from themselves, I had finally been promoted. Now I would be risking my life to protect a huge, sprawling, alien, urban-colonial cesspit. Preoccupied by these questions and Chell’s abrasive music, there were dark clouds in my mind as we touched down on Plenty.

We touched down and I thanked Chell. She offered to guide me through the spaceport and into the city, but I knew I should tackle this alone. I stepped out into tropical humidity and then almost immediately into the dry, air-conditioned arrivals building. There was a lot of unnecessary waiting around before my paperwork was half-heartedly inspected. I was waved through customs without a second look and then I was out in to the spaceport’s main concourse, where alien life of every variety thronged and hollered. Pale, dour Sallegans marched imperiously ahead of their squabbling attendant Salzalum. A lumpy Drukshockan in a methane-pressurised cart argued vehemently with something whose species I couldn’t even identify over the price of something or other, while every flavour and colour of humanity pervaded throughout.

The spaceport’s signs were in a variety of Languages, none of them Cue Cappan. I asked a human- a sweating homeworlder in crisp, formal attire- for help and was directed to an information desk, where one of the locals sat in a state of comparative undress. She charged my translator with maps of the spaceport and city, smiled and pointed and I soon found myself in a taxi boat, shielded from the heat by a simple canvas canopy. I trailed two tentacles in the water, closed my eyes and tried to convince myself I was on my own homeworld. It didn’t work.

I had the taxi drop me off on Dogma Beach, according to the senior Cane’s instructions. It was mid-morning and the beach was bustling with activity. Some people running or swimming for exercise, others happy to simply lie on the hot sand and bask. A thin road ran parallel to the water, with number of broad, tree-lined avenues running away at right angles. Cane had left me a list of directions to follow, each junction described by a landmark. A metallic statue on one of the busier avenues sent me half a kilometre inland, until I spotted the glitzy restaurant with the columns of fish-filled water held up by nothing more than energy fields. I turned left and immediately right, hearing the temple of Elvis long before I saw it. Taking the second left after that, I found myself on a narrow lane that curved gently inland, terminating at a heavily vandalised park full of native trees. To the right of the park was a tower block, which the map assured me was a classic example of the Asian neo-deco architecture that had been popular with Plenty’s first colonists. It looked to me like a dilapidated, crumbling, twelve-story heap of trouble.

On the third floor I found apartment 332 and removed my helmet, using it to knock on the door. I waited two minutes without a reply and knocked again. Eventually a face appeared in a small screen to one side of the door. “Whayya want?”
As per Cane’s instructions, I said ‘Suggsy’ had sent me. There was a pause, and the door opened. A naked human opened the door and looked me up and down. “What the f#ck are you?” He had clearly just woken up and was doing a very bad job of hiding a gun behind his back.
“I’m here on business.” I said, raising myself onto tentacle-tips to make eye-contact at his own level. “Suggsy sent me.”
“You said that.” He remarked, rubbing his eyes. “Come in.” He stepped back slightly, allowing me just enough room to squeeze timidly past him. Instead I pushed through forcefully, nudging him backwards to give myself space.
He closed the door and stopped trying to hide the gun. He only took his eyes off me long enough to find a pair of shorts on a table, sniff them and pull them on. “I’ll call Suggsy, and I’ll be right with you.”
I hadn’t anticipated this. I assumed that the mention of this ‘Suggsy’ character would be enough to get this man’s trust. With one eyeball I looked around for an escape, keeping the other fixed on the man.
“Suggsy mate… yeah I know it’s early, but you should tell your friends to come round after I get up, shouldn’t you? Yeah… I dunno… Purple. Tentacles… Hey you, what’s your name?”
I debated with myself for a moment. Should I use the name on my papers? I decided against it. “Sloo.” I said.
The weapons dealer repeated this name to his friend while scratching his backside with the muzzle of his weapon.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He ended the call, and I tried to appear outwardly calm while simultaneously tensing for action.
“You want a drink?” Obviously my new friends in intelligence had predicted the call and somehow persuaded Suggsy to back me up. After fishing a drinking straw out of my bag, I accepted a small glass of something brown that tasted nothing at all like wine. Then we got down to business.

“So you’ll be looking for something Cue Cappan, I suppose. You’d probably have trouble handling weapons designed for anyone else.” He said, apparently able to recognise my species now that he’d woken up a little. He disappeared into another room and returned with a small arsenal in an open case.
“You have to understand I don’t keep a lot of cappan stuff in, but what I do got is top quality.”
He unwrapped the first gun and handed it to me.
“How about this? Groosh WavebLaster mark III, standard issue to Commonwealth police force and Frontier Order. Pulsed energy bLast, no recoil, high repeat rate. This is a very accurate weapon, mate, and reliable too- as long as you clean it every other day.”
I cleaned my own Groosh daily. I pulled the offered weapon apart with all the expertise of a lifetime’s familiarity and examined the parts. It was a copy, but not a bad one. I snapped it back together and balanced its weight on my tentacle. It felt good. However I hadn’t just relinquished my own gun to pick up another one like it. I asked what else he had. He tilted his head and made a clicking noise as he packed the WavebLaster away.
“You won’t get better than the Groosh, my friend, especially not ‘round here. No offence mate, but most Cappan weapons are pretty poor in my opinion. Too much maintenance, not enough damage. Here, try this.”
He handed me a Shlaalgrah 900, the choice of the discerning Gla boss and undoubtedly the best option after the Groosh. This guy knew his business well. “Less punch than the Groosh.” He said, “But more discrete and it holds a longer charge. Waterproof, obviously and again, good accuracy in the proper hands.” He looked at my tentacles. “Or whatever.”

We looked at a few more weapons, haggled over the price and drank another bourbon. I left the apartment block with the Shlaalgrah 900 and a half-dozen fighting blades, feeling far more confident than I had done all day. I consulted my map, asking it for the Bifrost Lodge. It was 20 minutes’ walk away. I steeled myself. It was time to get to work.

[dogscoff]

*bump*

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[Krsqk]

...bump...?

[dogscoff]

Sorry, will get back into it when I can. Might need to tidy up those latest 2 chapters first though. The general plot is all worked out, but the details aren't so I'm not really sure where to go. Also, I'm off on holiday end of next week and i really ought to do something for xenology before then.

Glad to see there's someone still interested though, I had just about given up hope.

[Unknown_Enemy]

Well that is the ingratitude of writing in a forum. Most people will read it tell themselves "interesting" but won't let slip any comment.

But you're not only writing for others aren't you ?? You're also writing because you like it.

[dogscoff]

Chapter 26 is now available on my new-look fiction website at http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/

Please note that what used to be chapters 23 and 24 have been broken up, expanded and re-written into chapters 23, 24 and 25, so I recommend re-reading from at least chapter 23. My new-look site has a neat "story so far" feature to remind what has happened (especially useful since updates tend to be months apart.) You could even go right back to chapter 1 and re-familiarise yourself with the entire story by means of the chapter summaries. It only takes a few minutes=-)

Please also have a play with the quote-o-matic. I put a lot of time into that=-)

Finally, the new page requires a browser that supports frames and javascript, and I haven't (yet) put up a low-tech alternative page. If anyone is unable to read the new chapter, please post here and I'll sort something out.

Oh, and really finally, I wrote all the javascript myself, so please be patient with it if it doesn't work, works slowly or wierdly, or spontaneously becomes self-aware and attempts to conquer the galaxy. Just hit refresh a few times, that will probably sort it out.

[ March 13, 2004, 20:52: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Puke]

nice quote-o-matic. brings back fond memories.

say, i get grey patches on the left hand bar. probably because my default background color isnt white.

[primitive]

WOW http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

http://dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/images/scififight.jpg

[dogscoff]

Puke: fond memories of another quote-o-matic, or fond memories of the story? You could always re-read it you know=-) I just re-read this entire thread from the beginning- now that's an eye opener. For example, back in june 2002 (back whne chapters were only a few days apart=-( I predicted thath the entire story would be wrapped up in 12-20 chapters. HA! What's even funnier is that I remember thinking that that seemed like an awful lot of chapters...

I'd like to fix your "grey patches". This page is my first ever foray into the world of javascript and css, so it's bound to have errors and incompatibilites. COuld you send me a screenshot? What browser and OS are you using?

What did you think of the chapter btw? I'm going to have some fun with Othaglot from here=-) I'm planning to gradually split him into two entirely contrary characters, using the magic of alcohol...

[Baron Munchausen]

The frames and JS don't work in Mozilla 1.5 for some reason, but do work in IE 5.5 (my 'old' browser). It's not that they are 'broken' but that they don't appear at all! No frames. Just blank space. This is a puzzle, since it's Mozilla which is 'standards compliant' while IE has all sorts of quirks. But then... nearly everyone has learned to use the IE style quirks so maybe that's why Mozilla can't understand the code. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

Edit:

Actually, it doesn't work in IE either. All I get is that title graphic that Primitive is so impressed with. The navigation bar doesn't update to show the chapters so you can't access them.

[ March 14, 2004, 01:35: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[Krsqk]

I can't get any of the multi-page stories to load. The javascript loads the summary page, but none of the chapters will load. I have IE 6.0 and have tried full permission for all JS, and still no dice. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/confused.gif And I'd looked forward to this update for a long time, too. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif

[Suicide Junkie]

I was getting script errors whenever I tried to click into one of the chapters; permission denied for something.

After switching browsers back and forth and lots of reloading and random clicking, it suddenly started working.

Great new chapters!

[dogscoff]

dammit... i see what you all mean... sometimes you click on a chapter number and it works, sometimes it throws an error at you.
EDIT: Strangely, it seems to work pretty reliably if you play around with the quote-o-matic first. Click a few new quotes until you get one that refers to O&C, then click the link in the quote. The chapters will all be available.

I've no idea why this should be. I'll try to get it all fixed.

And Primitive, thanks. It was originally an entry for Fyron's image contest but then SE.net went down for a while and the contest never came back up, so I decided to reuse it here. I'm not sure we'll ever get to see that scene in this story, but it looks pretty cool=-)

[ March 14, 2004, 13:11: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

*BUMP* Just for all you ppl who don't log on over the weeked.

A new chapter of O&C is now available on my new website - http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction.
I've also rehashed some of the more recent chapters and expanded them, so I recommend re-reading from at least chapter 23. There'a a neat new "Story so far" feature to help you recap.

Comments about the site, the story or anything else in this thread, please. I hope to start work on Chapter 27 today. Hopefully I can start being productive again with this story, for a while at least.

EDIT: Puke- I think I know what "grey patches" you are talking about- it's down to "dirty" jpegs- the price we pay for high compression I'm afraid. Maybe I can improve them, but right now I'm afraid to touch anything=-)

[ March 15, 2004, 09:02: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Hooray! I seemd to have fixed the problem. Not sure how- I just deleted everything off the ftp site and then copied it all back up- but the chapter listings and the Courier stories now seem to be working fine. Wierd.

Enjoy, everyone=-)

That URL again:
http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/

[Puke]

no, its not dirty jpegs. its the background screen color. my desktop is black and my default background window color is light gray. this reduces contrast and makes my screen easier to stare at for hours on end. in fact, all my windown colors are 'muted' to make it easier on the eyes.

I have little rectangles of background color inbetween "change" and "Othaglor&Cane", between "A Texrak Tale" and "Influences" and another larger grey rectangle from below "influences" to the bottom of the left hand bar. its because you set the background color to white on the rest of the screen, but not on that lefthand bar.

I see what you mean about the compression artifacts on the JPEGS. it is not those that I am talking about. Set your own background window color (the color that you want to appear in text boxes and explorer windows and such to a light grey (or any other color besides white) and you will see exactly what I mean.

[Baron Munchausen]

Originally posted by dogscoff:
Hooray! I seemd to have fixed the problem. Not sure how- I just deleted everything off the ftp site and then copied it all back up- but the chapter listings and the Courier stories now seem to be working fine. Wierd.

Enjoy, everyone=-)

That URL again:
http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/ <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">It still doesn't work in Mozilla. The story buttons are just graphics on the page, there is no 'clickable' link behind them.

But at least it does now work in IE. I had checked the JS error Last night and it said 'access denied' so I guess there was some permission problem with JS versus a simple HTML connect. I manually typed the file names reported and read the chapters Last night, though. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif At least for future chapters I can now just load-up IE to read them.

[dogscoff]

Puke: I'll sort that tomorrow, should be simple enough. two words in the stylesheet should do it.

Baron: I'll see what I can do, I should be able to fish out a couple of decent web resources on cross-browser compatibility. Bear in mind though that it's something of a miracle that it works as far as it does, given that (a) This is the project I used to teach myself javascript and css from scratch (b) I approached it without any kind of planning other than "that would be cool" and (c) like every other kind of code I produce, it's wierd, kludgy, eccentric and probably about 3 times bigger than it needs to be. (But it's mine) But yeah, I'll see what I can do. Maybe I'll even try browser testing it myself rather than waiting for you to do it=-)

Anyway, now the site is fully functional in at least one browser, do you guys have any comments on the content as opposed to the container?

[Alneyan]

It doesn't work either with Firefox 1.7 (former Firebird, so based on Mozilla and one of the latest Version around), but the mothballed IE 5 or 6 (the one who ships with Windows XP) works fine. I think Mozilla handles layers in another way than IE, so it might be the cause of the problem as clicking on the buttons doesn't do anything.

As for the stories, I have just started reading Othaglot and Cane, and I do enjoy the read so far. Not much more to say for now, as I have only finished the first two chapters.

[Atrocities]

Hell we should all get together and start our own sci-fi book publishing company.

Book for the fans written by fans. Include fan fiction from many games, both sci-fi and other.

[narf poit chez BOOM]

we'd have to get permission from the owners of those universe's.

[dogscoff]

Owners of those universes... Man I'd like to own a universe. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif Be a ***** to redecorate though, and as for the heating bills.

In theory, puke's complaint should now be fixed. Now for the difficult bit...

[dogscoff]

Just Downloaded Opera 7. Damn, when did Opera go from being a neat, tidy little browser with a few cool features to a cluttered, confusing unusable monstrosity?

BTW, my page doesn't seem to work in Opera either. This is ridiculous. What's the point in having standards if the different browsers won't honour them?

I'm sure Microsoft's to blame somehow.

[capnq]

Dogscoff, I just took a quick look around with Opera and had no problems whatsoever with your site.

[edit] Oops, I take that back. The fiction page isn't showing any titles.

What software are you using to create the pages? I've heard that some programs put a lot of unnecessary junk in the code.

[ March 16, 2004, 17:47: Message edited by: capnq ]

[Phoenix-D]

Originally posted by dogscoff:

I'm sure Microsoft's to blame somehow. <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">IE doesn't impliment the standards ussually. Since its also the most popular browswer, most sites code for it instead of the standard.

[Baron Munchausen]

Well, today I discovered that the links in the 'quote-o-matic' actually work in Mozilla. They didn't before. So one more thing has been fixed. But the buttons that are supposed to give main entry into the story still don't work, nor does the list of chapters appear when you get into a chapter using a link from the 'quote-o-matic'.

The content seems pretty good. It's been so long since I read the previous few chapters that it's hard to compare them to the revised stuff. I don't remember the old Version clearly anymore. But there is a sense of a new direction in this material and that's good since the story seemed to be petering out before. Changing the tone of the story at this point is actually a good move. Othaglot is moving into a completely different world now.

[geoschmo]

Originally posted by Phoenix-D:
</font><blockquote><font size="1" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">quote:</font><hr /><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Originally posted by dogscoff:

I'm sure Microsoft's to blame somehow. <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">IE doesn't impliment the standards ussually. Since its also the most popular browswer, most sites code for it instead of the standard. </font><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">If the most popular browser and most websites don't use the "standard", it doesn't really fit the definition of a standard does it? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[Puke]

standards? peh. how long have you all been working with technology? of any sort? standards are always a long and painfull process, and firm ones take ages to congeal into anything truely standard. by and large, standards are defacto rather than whatever cutesy bullpoo standards committees come up with. no matter how good the paper standard might look or be.

anyway, the problem i reported is fixed. I have also noticed that I get a white space on the left verticle pipe when i click on the change quote button. it stays until i roll the cursor off of the button. seems to be a one cell gap that is created as the image expands and then contracts.

[dogscoff]

What software are you using to create the pages?
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Notepad.


oday I discovered that the links in the 'quote-o-matic' actually work in Mozilla. They didn't before.<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Yeah, they weren't working too well in IE either. Most were OK, but it turned out that by copy/ pasting text from the main page, I was including "" marks that weren't part of the standard charset, and somehow that was stuffing up the hrefs on a minority of the quotes. I think I got them all fixed now.

the buttons that are supposed to give main entry into the story still don't work
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Yeah, I just don't get that. The code that generates those buttons is pretty quirky, but it doesn't use anything contraversial as far as I can tell.


nor does the list of chapters appear when you get into a chapter using a link from the 'quote-o-matic'.
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">The chapter list thing is probably down to my use of the "innerText" property, which was invented by MS and shunned by everyone else. However, I have yet to find an alternative: If you're dynamically creating a link that in html would look like this: </font><blockquote><font size="1" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">code:</font><hr /><pre style="font-size:x-small; font-family: monospace;">&lt;A Href=&quot;X&quot; ALT=&quot;Y&quot;&gt;Z&lt;/A&gt; </pre><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">then adding X and Y is easy using the DOM- you create the A element, attach it to a parent node and then use something like element.href="X", and element.alt="Y" to fill in those properties.
Unfortunately there appears to be no way to put the Z in there without using MS's innerText. I could easily attach a gif or something, but that pretty much defeats the whole object of an easily maintained, dynamically generated list that can be restyled using css.
If anyone can come up with a more widely-accepted alternative to innerText, I'll gladly make the changes.

Remember that all my knowledge of javascript is self-taught from various tutorials on the web. I have no books, tutors or universal references to go to for help. The answer's probably there, but I just can't find it- all these tutorials are so keen to tell you how to dynamically create a link with an image that no-one ever tells you how to create one with just text.


It's been so long since I read the previous few chapters...I don't remember the old Version clearly anymore.
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">This is what I was afraid of. It's a pretty complex plot (or at least, there's a lot of stuff to remember) and I haven't done anyone any favours by taking so damn long to update it. That was the idea behind the story summaries. If you're really feeling lost, plot wise, and you don't have time to re-read the entire story it will only take a few minutes to skim through all the "story so far" chapter summaries. That should be enough to bring all the pertinent bits back to your memory.

[ March 24, 2004, 09:17: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Good news: I have the next two chapters written.

Bad news: I haven't uploaded them yet, they are still being proofed, polished and padded. Hoping to upload before Saturday.

Good news: If you go to my website and the O&C main page, you'll see that I've uploaded a couple of maps you may find interesting.

Bad news: The site still isn't working in mozilla, opera, firefox or netscape.

Good news: It works beautifully in Internet Explorer, so come on everyone, take a look!

[Atrocities]

ROTFLMAO @ http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/propresp.htm

[dogscoff]

Ah yes, the mighty Texrak battlecow. Those aren't guns, you know, they're mustard dispensers. Download the proportional response pack and you can rotflyao every time you invade their puny pink homeworld.

Awww, but you gotta feel sorry for them, don't ya? Have you read A Texrak Tale (http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction) ?

[ March 24, 2004, 10:12: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Puke]

Texrak Tale is one of my favorite shorts. Great job on that one.

I had not seen the battle cow before, thats great.

[Baron Munchausen]

Originally posted by dogscoff:
Ah yes, the mighty Texrak battlecow. Those aren't guns, you know, they're mustard dispensers. Download the proportional response pack and you can rotflyao every time you invade their puny pink homeworld.

Awww, but you gotta feel sorry for them, don't ya? Have you read A Texrak Tale (http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction) ? <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">But you've got the guns pointing in the wrong direction. Shouldn't they be oriented properly for use in the usual tactic of Texrak troops? Aren't the Texrak related to the Pierson's Puppeteer? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[ March 24, 2004, 18:09: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Just a quick *bump* for all you US ppl coming Online now who might have missed the minor update a few Posts down: Maps to support the O&C story have been uploaded to my fiction site.

http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction

[geoschmo]

A rollicking tale of interstellar murder, mystery, betrayal, intrigue, espionage, more betrayal, conspiracy and politics. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah, big unexpected explosions, reckless drinking and (in the best Enterprise tradition) a gratuitous female alien shower scene. <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">ROFL!

[ March 26, 2004, 12:45: Message edited by: geoschmo ]

[dogscoff]

Chapter 27 is up at http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction! I know I promised it Last week (or the week before..? I lose track) but it needed a lot of rewriting and I got very distracted by Slashem. Also, the site is still not working in non-IE browsers. Sorry.

Anyway, here it is. Not much plot this chapter- more sightseeing really, but believe me the next chapter will be extremely plot-heavy. Many of the big questions still outstanding will be answered in chapter 28 and by the end of it people should (finally) have enough information to start making reasonable guesses as to what the hell is going on and what everyone is up to. Assuming you can remember what the hell was going on back in chapter 2, anyway.

Therefore if you have been thinking of re-reading from the start, I strongly suggest you do so soon, Chap28 is mostly written and could be released in a matter of days.
However if you have not been thinking of re-reading from the start, I strongly suggest you do so soon, Chap28 is mostly written and could be released in a matter of days. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif
If, on the other hand, you haven't read any of the story yet, I strongly suggest you do so. Read it all, now!

Everyone got that?

Comments, suggestions, criticism, typoes & praise are all welcome here, as always.

http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction

[Puke]

ooo, time to re-read.

[dogscoff]

Uh-oh, someone's actually re-reading. I'd better get chapter 28 finsihed, sharpish...

[Atrocities]

Originally posted by geoschmo:
</font><blockquote><font size="1" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">quote:</font><hr /><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">A rollicking tale of interstellar murder, mystery, betrayal, intrigue, espionage, more betrayal, conspiracy and politics. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah, big unexpected explosions, reckless drinking and (in the best Enterprise tradition) a gratuitous female alien shower scene. <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">ROFL! </font><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">I wish to purhase the movie rights. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[dogscoff]

movie rights<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Hmmm... I like that idea. I suggest we save money on casting by having you guys act most of the parts, then we can splash out and have a few big name stars to fill in the female roles=-)

-Cane: Atrocities would be perfect
-Othaglot: State of the art CGI, voiced by Geo.
-Enyemin Cane: Mac and Growltigga can fight over this role. The loser gets their legs amputated for the role of Captain Frasier.
-Loorl: More CGI, but voiced by Rollo.
-Loorl's Vikings: More CGI, all of them voiced by Narf.
-Sloo: Milla Jojovich sprayed purple. She might look a bit odd compared to the state of the art CGI on all the other Cappans, and she'd actually be far better as Chell, but it's Sloo that gets the shower scene=-)
-Actually, if Sloo is played by Milla Jojovich, I'm playing alongside her as Cane. Sorry Geo. ;-)
-Amda Blaze-Stout: Hmm, tricky, this one. has to be someone quite powerfully built and with real authority & presence. Kind of like a female Patrick Stewart. Most popular actresses seem to be too wet and girly imho. If Whoopee Goldberg was taller, she'd do.
-Dr Singh: Phoenix-D
-Dr Ollaroo: Voiced by CapnQ
-Commander Lock: S_J
-Erik the Shed: Puke
-Stevv: Krsqk
-Wolf & Ve: Rags & Timstone.
-Director: Baron M

Did I miss anyone? We still have plenty of parts open: Glooloosl (Gla boss), the security team on the mining colony, Othaglot's colleague from the homeworld police force, Cappa Loog, the 6 Orros from the cargo container, Wilm (murdered on the marilyn before he gets a line), Cracktooth the barman, the gun-dealer (be aware that this part requires nudity), the bouncer at the Atlanti (next chapter, be aware that this part requires surgery), Olric (be aware that this part requires decapitation), various nameless crew members on the Endeavour & Marilyn, a Sergetti waiter and Tor Hammer (both next chapter) and, of course, about a million drunken vikings, city dwellers and bystanders...

[ April 07, 2004, 16:00: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

shameless **bump**

Come on guys, that makes 3 Posts in a row in my own thread. Help me out here...

[dogscoff]

Chapter 28 is up. Last chance; If you have been thinking about re-reading from the start, I advise you do so now. This chpater refers back to a lot of stuff that happened a while ago and answers many of the questions that have been hanging about for a long long time.

of course in doing so it opens up a whole bunch of new questions, but you expected that, right?

http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction

[Rollo]

good stuff, I can't wait for more http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

I was happy to see the Bifrost Lodge a few chapters back. When will we see Madame Oogle's Tentacle House? (perhaps in one of the courier stories).

about the movie: Milla is an excellent choice, but I demand some changes to the plot. Loorl needs some scenes with Sloo then http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif . And I want to do the motion capture also http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon12.gif .

[Baron Munchausen]

Very interesting but it doesn't answer all of our questions yet. Sloo is not confirmed dead. The ultimate 'Oh ****!' moment is still lurking out there if she should turn up. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

Also, the Vikings on earth must be a rather large organization, and operated like an intelligence agency, if he could have known so much about Sloo while never having met her. That makes them an organized crime syndicate similar to the Mafia. Wouldn't they have attracted more attention from law agencies if they were that dangerous? And don't they have rivals?

[ April 09, 2004, 16:54: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[TerranC]

Originally posted by Baron Munchausen:
That makes them an organized crime syndicate similar to the Mafia.<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Or a power-hungry freemason's society of the future... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[dogscoff]

Sloo is not confirmed dead. The ultimate 'Oh ****!' moment is still lurking out there if she should turn up.
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Oh, just you wait.
*dogscoff supresses an evil chuckle.


Also, the Vikings on earth must be a rather large organization, and operated like an intelligence agency, if he could have known so much about Sloo while never having met her. <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">She was a member of Jormungund's Earth Chapter, which Hammer used to run. Then he handed it over to his second in command and came to found the PLenty chapter. Presumably he kept up with current events in his other chapter. This is all in chapter 25 (?) The one with Othaglot's briefing from Cane Sr.
I hinted, but perhaps didn't specify in this latest chapter that she was the one to provide information about the Cue Cappan technology and how it could advance the mysterious project Asgrd. That alone would be enough for him to become aware of her.

Anyone got any guesses as to the nature of project Asgard? THere are plenty of clues in there, especially if you were to go back to some of the earlier chapters...

[ April 10, 2004, 08:47: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

I'd say the nature of "Project Asgard' is fairly obvious even without the clues. The name gives it away. Asgard is the home of the Norse gods. This guy is plainly a megalomaniac who wants to found his own empire. The details remain to be revealed, so I can't guess if he plans to over-thrown the whole 'Terran' government structure and rule all of the human-inhabited planets, or if he just wants to carve out a smaller domain for himself. Maybe a nice remote planet like Plenty could be taken and held more easily, especially with outside help, than taking on the whole Terran navy?

The next question, of course, is how straight would his 'foreign' allies be playing? I suppose the 'Puppet Political Parties' intel project shows us that sometimes a government will support an independence movement just to screw with another government. (Amusing thought -- this whole story is about a PPP intel project... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif ) But in the real world a revolution is just as often sponsored as a way to open the door to intervention. I'd expect to see a Sallegan and/or Sergetti invasion fleet before this thing winds up.

[ April 11, 2004, 00:26: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Oops, I forget to mention that while speculation is welcome, I will not be confirming or denying anything anyone guesses.

Still, whether he's right or not, Baron M is clearly paying attention. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon10.gif

[Atrocities]

Good story. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif

[dogscoff]

Thanks At, I really respect your opinion.

[Puke]

think he's founding a p&n empire?

[TerranC]

I just reread all 28 chapters, and I've got to say, fabulous job, Dogscoff. Can't wait till the next one.

[dogscoff]

Chapter 29 is up. Might need to come back and rework it a little, but it'll do for now.

http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction

[Baron Munchausen]

Got any information about revising your javascript yet? I don't like having to load Internet Exploiter just to read your story. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/tongue.gif

[dogscoff]

Not yet. I had a quick look a while back but couldn't find any useful links.

After that I figured you'd rather I spent my time writing O&C than writing javascript http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/tongue.gif

But I will get back to it one of these days, I just don't really know where to start.

[geoschmo]

Why not just post the story in a non-java form on the website as well with a link for those that wish to read it that way?

[dogscoff]

OK, I've tweaked the java to (hopefully) make it a little more compatible with other browsers. Any testing by you folks would be appreciated.
EDIT: No change under Opera 7 http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif

Geo: I could, but that's just more work for me, and you know how lazy I am=-) Seriously, the whole point of this new design is that it's a lot easier for me to maintain (Ha!) and it generates a lot of stuff automatically, thus eliminating many of the errors that would creep in if I were doing it manually. It also seems kind of counter-productive...

In other news: I'm currently well into Chapter 30, but I'm kind of writing it alongside 31 and and 32 (A bit like filming the LotR films=-). Hopefully I'll be able to release at least one chapter in the next 7 or 8 days.

[ May 27, 2004, 09:17: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

After looking at the source I'd say the first thing you have to do is provide proper references for the source files. ../general_functions.js is not gonna cut it with any decent security model. Give the full http: URL for the files. I still can't even load your fancy menu in Mozilla and I suspect that's why. Once I can actually load it we'll see if it works.

[dogscoff]

After looking at the source I'd say the first thing you have to do is provide proper references for the source files. ../general_functions.js is not gonna cut it with any decent security model. Give the full http: URL for the files. I still can't even load your fancy menu in Mozilla and I suspect that's why. Once I can actually load it we'll see if it works.
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">If that's all it turns out to be I'll be well pissed off. Thanks for the advice though, I'll try it.

That's a bit crappy if it won't accept relative addresses- it will make code a hell of a lot less flexible and portable.

It will also require me making changes to over 150 files...

EDIT: Changed a few files (menu, first 6 chapters of )&C) and uploaded them- see if that makes a difference

[ May 27, 2004, 15:08: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

I think that relative addresses will work inside the JS code. Where I don't think they work is in the HTML that tells the browser where to get the source. That's what I meant -- the source for the frames themselves. Why does the sci_fi.js file still have no URL reference? It's just a bald file name.

Edit:
BTW, the errors I got on the early Version with IE were 'permission' related. So that makes me think that your remaining problems could be with the stricter security of browsers like Mozilla.

[ May 27, 2004, 16:54: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Originally posted by Baron Munchausen:
I think that relative addresses will work inside the JS code.

<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Heh... that's one of the few places I *have* used full paths.



Where I don't think they work is in the HTML that tells the browser where to get the source. That's what I meant -- the source for the frames themselves. Why does the sci_fi.js file still have no URL reference? It's just a bald file name.

<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Well... because it's in the same directory. I don't have to include full paths for every single .gif file I reference do I?



Edit:
BTW, the errors I got on the early Version with IE were 'permission' related. So that makes me think that your remaining problems could be with the stricter security of browsers like Mozilla. <font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">OK, well at least that gives me another angle of attack to this problem. Take the timestamp of this post and add ten minutes, and from then there will be a new Version to test. Thanks for all your help so far.

[dogscoff]

Just had a thought... Does the Quote-o-matic work for you? I thought it did. It does in Opera anyway, which refuses the menus.

That uses the same javascript files as everything else, so if that works, the problem can't be that the files aren't getting read...

[dogscoff]

OK, big leap forward, with the help of Opera's javascript console. The problem (as far as opera is concerned anyway) was that I was using
</font><blockquote><font size="1" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">code:</font><hr /><pre style="font-size:x-small; font-family: monospace;">createElement(&quot;&lt;A&gt;&quot;)</pre><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">instead of </font><blockquote><font size="1" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">code:</font><hr /><pre style="font-size:x-small; font-family: monospace;">createElement(&quot;A&quot;)</pre><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">IE managed to work around this, but Opera lacked the imagination. Opera is now working fine. Does this improve matters with Mozilla etc?

[ May 28, 2004, 10:02: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

Well, since the result hasn't changed here I would assume the reference thing wasn't the problem for Mozilla. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon7.gif But in the Mozilla Javascript Console (which I just discovered in the Last week or so) I'm getting a 'syntax error' for each js file. It seems to be some sort of 'comment' at the beginning of the file rather than the code.

< !DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//IETF//DTD HTML 2.0//EN">

Is that the JS file or some other file on your server? When I click on it and get the details it looks like a 404 error page, because it says "The requested URL /fiction/general_functions.js was not found on this server." Weird.

Edit: What is especially weird is that I can load those files in seperate windows. No '404' error when you go for them directly. It looks like the problem might be something to do with the frames.

[ May 28, 2004, 15:26: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[Baron Munchausen]

Hrm...

Now I look at the source for the Quote-o-matic frame.

</font><blockquote><font size="1" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">code:</font><hr /><pre style="font-size:x-small; font-family: monospace;">&lt; script language=&quot;JavaScript&quot; type=&quot;text/javascript&quot; SRC=&quot;../../extern.js&quot;&gt;&lt; /script&gt;
&lt; script language=&quot;JavaScript&quot; type=&quot;text/javascript&quot; SRC=&quot;../sci_fi.js&quot;&gt;&lt; /script&gt;
&lt; script language=&quot;JavaScript&quot; type=&quot;text/javascript&quot; SRC=&quot;../../general_functions.js&quot;&gt;&lt; /script&gt;</pre><hr /></blockquote><font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Why the double ../ thing? It seems to work, though, while the direct reference does not... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif

Edit:
Another possibility is that body tag containing an 'onload' statement. Could you move the 'onload' statement to a seperate tag, maybe even after the script references?

[ May 28, 2004, 15:38: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Why the double ../ thing? It seems to work, though, while the direct reference does not...
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">because some of the .js files are in my webspace's root directory, and others are in root/fiction. THis is deliberate, becasue I thought I might one day use general_functions in other areas of my website.

That means that to reference them from a subdirectory of fiction (ie root/fition/stories) you have to use either ../ to go up one level or ../../ to go up two levels. It works.


Another possibility is that body tag containing an 'onload' statement. Could you move the 'onload' statement to a seperate tag, maybe even after the script references?
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">I'm pretty sure this is how javascript is supposed to work, in all browers.


Well, since the result hasn't changed here I would assume the reference thing wasn't the problem for Mozilla.
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">No, i really don't think it is. Like I say, changing this createElement commands fixed it in Opera. Please try again, and make sure you hit refresh so you're not looking at a Cached Version.


!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//IETF//DTD HTML 2.0//EN">
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">This doesn't appear in any of my files, it's added by the browser to identify the various Versions of Languages, protocols and things being used.


"The requested URL /fiction/general_functions.js was not found on this server." Weird.
<font size="2" face="sans-serif, arial, verdana">Try www.dogscoff.co.uk/general_functions.js (http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/general_functions.js) instead of www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/general_functions.js (http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/general_functions.js)

Thanks for your help with the testing BTW Baron. I really ought to name you a character, I think a Munchausen would fit quite nicely into one of the Courier stories...

***********************

Anyway, in order to celebrate my triumphant victory over Opera (if not Mozilla) I have decided to post here chapter 30. Also because I can't be arsed to mark it up and upload it to my site=-)
This still might be subject to a little tweaking, but i don't think it will change much between now and chapter 31 (which is at least half-finsihed, btw.)

Chapter 30
A tide of crimson ran across the surface of the slab and poured down the irregular sides, striping the stone platform as blood filled familiar channels in the uneven floor. The twitching carcass was held aloft to the cheering of the crowd as the priest offered prayers to Odin and Heimdall, and then passed back to the roasting spit and behind me somewhere a deep, throbbing drum began an urgent rhythm. It occured to me that I hadn't read of any such ritual in the ancient norse cults, but the hooting, hollering people all around me didn't seem to care much for historical accuracy. For what it was worth, neither did I.

I was drunk again.

Then again, it was my party in a way, so I felt I was justified. I threaded my way to the back of the semi-circular audience, shouting greetings to everyone I saw. Eventually Bern, a great hairy heap of a man I had spent the day working with, broke free from a group of revellers and stood before me, grinning. With exageratted, Earthly courtesy he bowed and asked me to dance. I decided to give it a try. Following Bern's example, I jumped up and down, flailing limbs randomly. I had to admit to a certain feeling of liberation, and Bern certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. I decided that he deserved it, having worked ceaselessly all day with his crew. He grinned at me once more, and a quick look into his booze-fuzzy mind showed me that he had some kind of romantic interest in me. He wasn't the first, and I wondered just why that should be. Obviously I was playing my role as a female very effectively, but it seemed odd to me that these humans could take such an attitude to someone so obviously alien in form. Perhaps human relationships are more emotional and intellectual than physical, making them more ready to ignore the biological divide. Perhaps curiosity was the underlying motivation. Bern winked at me through the bruise I had inflicted a week previously on his left eye. Perhaps the heavy intoxicants, hot weather and unbalanced gender ratio on this isolated clump of land had scrambled his simple brains beyond all reason.

I decided to stop worrying about it, it kept me in free drinks, and I confess to having developed quite a partiality for a mug of something cold at the end of a day's work. I caught Bern's attention with my left eye and looked down at my empty beer-mug with my right. He caught the hint eventually and trotted off to fetch me a refill. Within hours of arriving here nineteen days ago I had learned that this simple, macho culture appreciated strong, assertive women. The meek were either almost entirely disregarded and often mistreated, but anyone willing to earn respect through hard work and combat would assuredly earn it. I had no problems living up to this expectation, and several of my friends and admirers here sported minor injuries to prove it.
"Great party, Faf, thanks" called Danger, one of the project's technical instructors.
"It's not my party," I returned, "it's Hammer's." But he wasn't stupid. He just laughed and returned to his conversation, mead sloshing from his brimming mug to his boots.

The drumming stopped abruptly, and the dancing with it as everyone turned back to the centre of the stone circle. Tor Hammer was across the platform, carefully disguising his distaste as he splashed through the sacrificial puddle. He had picked the hour when the setting sun shone between the stones and directly onto the great central slab, making the animal blood look deep and rich like an exotic fabric draped over the altar. Apparently the stone circle had been erected by some other retro-cult: pagans or druids or something, who had later abandoned the island for reasons of their own. The Vikings had moved in some years later, and Hammer seemed to have no qualms about using the trappings of another cult to entertain his own.

In contrast to when I had first met him, he now wore full viking garb. I couldn't be sure with the cheap translator I now used but I think he also modified his accent and language, pitching it down to a level more readily accepted by his followers. The man was a fraud, and I disliked him intensely for it.
"Vikings!" He shouted, raising his arms for the inevitable cheer. "This is a great day!" He smiled and laughed as the cheering continued, then eyed the crowd for silence. "This is a great day." He repeated, this time toning down the triumphant edge tha twould have illicitted another cheer. "Today we have passed a major milestone on the road to Asgard, and tonight we celebrate!" More cheering, but inwardly I just chuckled. There was no milestone, the whole party had been invented just to boost morale. It hadn't been my idea- I had sensed the despondancy among the island's occupants and stolen the brainwave for a party from one of the security staff, presenting it to Hammer as my own. A cheap trick I know, but my life depended on maintaining his goodwill. So far it seemed to be going well. Someone at the back of the crowd threw a full mug over the sea of heads in celebration, and soon the air was thick with riotous laughter and the sound of projectile beermugs clanging off of helmets.

Hammer continued to smile passively at the spectacle, but I sensed deep impatience behind the placid facade. Eventually the laughter died down again and attention was focussed on the man at the altar once more. "Soon, the dream we have dreamed for so many long years will become reality. History will remember us as the parents of a new way, the Way of the Warrior brought to life!" Once again, I sensed insincerity. Details of Hammer's true background and distinctly un-warriorlike nature were carefully hidden from the vikings that followed him, who probably wouldn't have identified with his well educated, middle-class roots. Instead he maintained an eleborate history of working man made good, carefully calculated to appeal to the broadest possible demographic within the organisation. It amazed me that such a blatant lie could persist so long in this informed day and age, but his followers were precisely the kind of people who wouldn't bother to snoop into another man's personal history. The Viking culture was centred around story-telling, trust and honour. Once you were accepted you could get away with almost anything, as I was discovering myself.
I listened to him carry on in this vein for a half-minute or so, placing great emphasis on words like dignity, honour, courage and freedom, all the while noting that his emotions failed to live up to the enthusiasm of his words. He kept it short, however, well aware that his audience only had a limited patience for speeches, and soon the party was underway again.
Once he'd finished talking he caught my eye and held it significantly. He wanted to talk to me.

I straightened myself and tried to shake off some of the intoxication, reluctantly refusing the mead Bern had just returned with. Obviously I couldn't afford to fall out of favour with Hammer, but sometimes- particularly when I had been drinking- I resented the obedience I showed him and the ease with which that obedience came. He certainly possessed a naturally autocratic air, but I think the years of commands and discipline within Frontier Order made me crave authority: I had certainly felt lost since leaving the commonwealth and being cut off from my chain of command.

Now, however, I was back inside a structure, and I admit to feeling almost at home there. Technically, I was Hammer's second in command. At first I had been surprised at the level of trust he was prepared to invest in me, but it soon became clear that he had little choice. In spirit he was a no more a viking that I was, and he desperately wanted to avoid any kind of personal contact with his viking followers, for fear that they would see through his disguises and expose his true nature, which would almost certainly cost him his leadership. Using my psychic skills and supposed experience of the Viking Way, he therefore wanted me to be his interface between the clan and its leader, mingling with them, learning about their needs, wants and worries, and informing him so that he could adapt his image and policies accordingly and present himself as the perfect leader. Similarly, I had to communicate in the other direction, interpretting his ambitions into instructions and guidance that would be readily accepted by his followers.

Olric had done this job for several years, but Olric had been an idealist- something no-one could ever accuse Hammer of- and inevitably there had been a disagreement. About a year ago Hammer had arrogantly decided that he didn't need him after all, and sent him on the mission to steal the armour designs on Earth, and then the other technology from the Outlier where he had met his untimely end. Hammer admitted to me more than once that sending Olric away had been his greatest mistake. He hadn't particularly like him, but they had worked well together and he had soon realised how much he was needed. Things started to slide and he soon felt himself losing his grip on the clan, so naturally he tried to find a replacement. He had taken on a woman named Brynhilde, but she only Lasted around six months before she 'retired'.

Apart from his lack of any real connection to his followers, Hammer's other great failing was his paranioa, although in many ways it was well-justified. This project had been his idea. He had provided the funding, the organisation and the political contacts needed to make it work. However at this late stage he was practically redundant, and it would soon reach the point where almost anyone with decent administrative skills could pick it up. He was scared that someone would realise this and decide to replace him. Of course, if he had known the people who served him, he would have known that the kind of arbitrary betrayal he personally specialised in was completely contrary to their nature, but I suppose it was entirely possible that Olric's replacement had really been trying to take over the operation. After all, Hammer would necessarily had to have taken on another 'true' viking like Olric- who would soon grown to know and despise the man behind the facade- or a callous, ambitious cycnic like the one I was impersonating, who would have slit his throat as soon as it became convenient. I don't know which Category this Brynhilde had fallen into, but by all accounts she simply disappeared one day a few months ago.

Since then Hammer had been running the clan on his own, and it showed. In that time his own self-importance and the extreme secrecy that was a product of his paranoia had distanced himself further and further from his followers, and he had tried to compensate with brutal and oppressive management. Morale had hit an all time low and his worries of a rebellion had started to look like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Hammer had been getting desperate, and it seems I had dropped into his life at just the right moment to land in the ill-fated boots once worn by headless Olric and the vanished Brynhilde.

Of course, had he known the real me, he'd have known that I was about the Last person anyone could possibly hope to pick for such a role. It had therefore been an enormous surprise and relief that I was actually very good at it. I had spent at least a day with each and every work crew and training team, talking to the clan members, mapping their minds and getting a real insight into their mentality. What's more, I had enjoyed it. At first, it had just felt good to work again. Ever since leaving the Commonwealth I had been more or less at a loose end, and simply killing time was completely against my nature. Therefore I found even the hard, manual labour and training critical to project Asgard to be satisfying experiences. My enthusiasm gained me respect from my comrades, and soon I found myself appreciating their friendship as well as their dogged endurance and enthusiasm for their work. It was customary to sink a few pints at the end of the day and before long I began to enjoy this as well.

That's why I was experiencing a wide variety of conflicting emotions as I made my way through the crowd towards the altar. First among them though, was fear. Today had been the day, the day he was supposed to take delivery of the stolen technology I didn't have and he badly wanted. I knew I would have to talk quickly, or he would be looking for yet another replacement.

[ May 28, 2004, 23:40: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[dogscoff]

Just downloaded both Mozilla 1.6 and firefox 0.8. There is some graphical wierdness on the left-hand menu in both browsers (which I can explain but not yet fix- result of lazy coding, basically), but everything else works perfectly.

So, just to recap:
IE 6: Works perfectly.
Opera 7: Works perfectly.
Mozilla 1.6: Works well enough, some graphical wierdness.
Firefox 0.8: Works well enough, some graphical wierdness.
Netscape: Dunno, but I'm hopeful...
IE on Mac: Dunno, it wasn't working Last week but I'm hopeful now.
Lynx: Not bloody likely.

*dogscoff feels smug.

[Suicide Junkie]

I've started getting run time errors under IE...
All I can see are the random quotes, and the story links are cut off.
Line 113: Object dosen't support this property or method

With Mozilla, the story links are there, but they just change the random quote instead of bringing up the story http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/icons/icon9.gif .

[Baron Munchausen]

No change here. Still no graphics on the left-hand side. I am using Mozilla 1.5 but I don't think there would be that much difference between two minor Versions. But... I clicked the Quote-o-matic a few times to get an O&C quote and then clicked the story link in the top frame. It worked! I can enter the O&C story reader from the Quote-o-matic but not from the normal menu on the left frame.

The links that you posted to the js files don't work if I click them. I get 'not found' again. And yet those same files work in the Quote-o-matic. It really does seem to be a file access problem. Let's try using the same double ../ on the left frame as you use in the quote-o-matic?

Edit: Oops, forgot I was running in 'high security' mode. Just checked the 'allow scripts to change images' box in Mozilla and now I can report that I've got the same situation as SJ. The graphics appear now, but clicking the story button just changes the Quote-o-matic.

The chapter is numbered 31, not 30. Did you skip something? Or is that just a typo?

[ May 28, 2004, 21:53: Message edited by: Baron Munchausen ]

[dogscoff]

Unbelievable... It works fine in 1.7, really it does. As for not working in IE... what Version?

I really can't get my head around this, it works!

EDIT: S_J, it was typo. fixed now.

Is *anyone* seeing it properly? Anyone?? Please?
I think I'll give the javascripting a rest for a while and concetrate on the stories.

[ May 28, 2004, 23:41: Message edited by: dogscoff ]

[Baron Munchausen]

Still no change. It says the JS files cannot be found (404 error) in the left hand frame, but still finds them in the top frame.

I'll be upgrading to Moz 1.7 when the 'real' release is announced. That will be a few weeks, though.

[dogscoff]

It was quite a night. We started, as always, in the garden of the Swan- a quaint, quiet little pub at one end of our road. It was an ideal place for catching up, and with sunny decorations and cheap booze for the summer festival it was impossible not to relax. There I told my friends all about my adventures in Outlier and on the Marilyn, although I left out some of the more sensitive parts, not wanting to jeopardise Othaglot's undercover mission with gossip. Faust in particular was fascinated by our investigations on the mining colony, and Grett expressed a keen loathing of Sloo. However I found myself spending longest describing my time on the Worthwhile Endeavour- the mental disciplines I had learned from Loorl, the combat training I had undertaken on board and the decisions I had come to about making changes to my life. The topic of conversation quickly changed, and as the sun drew closer to the horizon we drank up and moved on to the Bug Factory, an old grasshopper tinning plant just around the corner that had recently been converted into a nightclub and cabaret review. The nightclub wasn't particularly good, but we went for there for the entertainments, which were superbly kitsch- especially for Grett and Degg who were giggling uncontrollably after crunching down a 'trope bug each - and we enjoyed about a drink and a half before being politely asked to keep the noise down or leave.

There was some dispute over our next destination- Grett wanted to go dancing at Colonyz, a huge, garish club back on the other side of the park, and Faust wanted to go to all the way across the city to Mossy Molasses' to soak up some zuzz-jazz, look cool and introduce himself to a waitress he had spotted there the previous week. In the end we compromised, paying way too much to get into the White Eye, a seedy little mosh pit just up the road specialising in loud, dirty ska-zuzz that Grett could dance to, while attracting enough single women to fulfil Faust's predatory instincts. It was on the way to the Eye that we bumped into a crowd of Degg's friends who joined us. I also tried to call Loorl to find out what he had been up to while I was visiting my family.

It must have been about two when we all fell out of the Eye, Faust with his arm around one of Degg's female acquaintances and Grett insisting that Degg carry her because- or so she said- she had danced her feet dead. Loorl returned my call just as they all were arguing about what to do next, and it was decided that we should all head down to the beach and light a fire. Loorl met us all there, and after rambling introductions we all settled down on the sand. Degg produced a bottle of grappa- filched from my room by the look of it- and Faust wanted me to tell my story again for the benefit of those who had only recently joined us. Reluctantly I did so, with Loorl contributing all kinds of details I had forgotten or left out.

At the end of the tale, I once again talked about the training I had undergone and the taste of self-discipline I had had aboard the Endeavour, and that I intended to find some direction. This was met with jeering and mockery, and before long I found that no-one awas even listening. Instead they were all challenging one of Degg's friends, who claimed to be able to tell the star-sign of any of the humans present- No mean feat given the massive complexity of astrology in an interstellar civilisation, but he correctly recognised Degg as an Earth Virgo (despite his accent) and myself as a Plentian Lupus. It soon became clear that the only reason he was doing all this was to make a clumsy pass at Grett, and as the group splintered into twos and threes I found myself strolling through the surf with Loorl, who was discovering with delight that that suitable foodstuffs had been introduced into Primavera's coastal waters to accomodate Plenty's small minority of Cue Cappan immigrants.

He had had a fairly good time since arriving, tracking down a few Viking haunts in the west of the city and buying rounds for the locals. I commented that he wasn't wearing his helmet, in reply to which he displayed a painful looking tattoo and told me that he was experimenting with paganism, since the pagans didn't spend quite so much of his money on mead. He had pretty much run out of cash and clearly wasn't sure what to do next. Part of his deal with Othaglot was an open ticket to get him back home so he could just go back at any time, but he said he wanted to stay here for as long as he could. I could see what he was fishing for but I didn't want to invite him to stay at the flat without consulting the others first. Looking back on it I don't know why, because inviting relative strangers back to stay was just the kind of thing we all did all the time anyway. At that moment though, it just didn't feel right.

By four or five the fire was dying and we were cold and hungry, so we decamped for the Sandbar, a strange little shack of a beachside cafe that catered primarily to the city's community of water-taxi drivers. It was open around the clock and served nothing but hearty all-day breakfasts and an array of strong liquors. Degg's other friends had drifted off at some point, and only the five of us remained. We all ate our fill- including Loorl- and Faust and Degg sipped vodka. Grett somehow persuaded the gruff barman to mix her a sugarstorm, while I was jeered and mocked again for ordering a fruit juice. However the ridicule soon dried up when I offered to pay the bill- I had been well paid for my visit to Outlier and I knew that tonight's activities would have completely bankrupted the others.

I awoke about midday the next day to find Loorl glugging quietly in his sleep on the kitchen floor (at Faust's invitation) and Grett, pale and bleary, wrpping her senses around a steaming mug of fragrant tea from Mr Yin's while trying in vain to absorb a particularly dull-looking psychology textbook. All in all it had been a fairly typical night out for us, and thoroughly enjoyable at that. However I was troubled by a subtle change in the atmosphere. Whether their attitudes toward me had changed, or mine toward them I couldn't tell, but something wasn't quite right. I wanted to get to the bottom of it, but I didn't feel too well and Grett was clearly not in an approachable mood, so I got dressed and went out to clear my head and plan my future.

I turned right out of Marjorie Street onto West Ostel Road, which headed towards one of the city's more exclusive islands. I had a hangover. West Ostellers were notioriously pretentious and the further West along the road I travelled the more chic and idiotic the architecture became. I didn't particularly like this area, but I realised my feet were guiding me toward the docks. I used to keep a small boat moored there, and found myself wondering why exactly I had sold it and what I had spent the money on. The docks were a long way away though, so I turned back towards Overidge Park, approaching it now from the South-West as I used to when I lived in one of the Institute's residential buildings. That block had been knocked down three years ago, and now a gleaming hotel built in some poorly-imitated antique Sallegan architectural style stood in its place. It had been a ugly old building, and I had hated it when I had lived there, but I missed it all the same.

I skirted up the western fringe of the park, barefoot again, trying to ignore the sick feeling in my stomach by paying close attention to the crumbling residential buildings on the far side of the road. This was one of the city's older districts, and most of the construction here dated back to the first wave of colonisation. The squat, two-storey buildings were dwarfed by the line of trees that seperated the road from the park. The buildings might have stood there for almost a century, but not one of those trees was more than fifty years old. Anyone who knew the history of Plenty's famine should have realised that, but the fact had never really sunk in before. My stomach was definitely not right, and I for a while I thought I might throw up. The whole area was marked for redevelopment.

Just before I reached the Institute's main campus I decided that what I really needed was food. I stopped at a corner-cafe to buy myself something to eat. It was in this cafe that my brief romance with Grett had both begun and ended. Given her temper, it suddenly occured to me that the whole two-week flirtation and subsequent breakup had been surprisingly smooth, and it was quite amazing that she should have agreed to come and live with us afterwards. Just up the road was the Institute's main campus, an assembly of relatively uninteresting halls and classrooms that nonetheless held a thousand memories safe for me: The lecture hall where I had presented my thesis on non-verbal xenolinguistics; the adjoining lobby where I had thrown up four times from nerves while waiting to the present my thesis on non-verbal xenolinguistics; the library where I had met the guy (whose name I can't even remember) who offered me a shot of mind-blowing redflower rum and eventually introduced me to Degg. The breakfast had settled my stomach but left me in a maudlin kind of a mood with old memories running rampant in my head. I tried in vain to herd them into some kind of useful order, but it seemed hopeless. I suddenly wondered what Othaglot might think if he were to pass by and eavesdrop on these thoughts, and at once I felt my defenses going up. The mental techniques Loorl had taught me came to the front of my mind and at once I found my runaway memories re-ordering themselves, each one lining up and waiting its turn. The mental discipline I had tasted aboard the Endeavour came into play and those memories now seemed to stand to attention. I had come out here to plan my future. I needed to figure out what to do next, and the only way to do that was understand the present. How had I come to be in my current situation?

I had met Degg, as I have already stated, through a mutual acquaintence who recommended Degg's home-brew to me. We became good friends very quickly, and before long a room became available and I was in a position to take it. This had been almost five years ago, the first three of those my final years at the institute. Faust's predecessor moved out shortly after I arrived- possible as a result of my arrival, I was never quite sure- and the room didn't stay empty for long. Faust was introduced my Norbul, The man in occupation of Grett's room at that time. The four of us had a lot of fun; me, Faust, Degg and Norbul, although there were some fierce arguments, but Degg was the glue that held us all together- a kind og benevolent, vaguely paternal ringmaster. He was something of a role-model to me, I suppose- certainly a massive influence- and I learned a lot from him about meeting people, reading them and interacting with them. I graduated, despite the many distractions life at Degg's provided, and not quite knowing what to do with myself after graduation I stayed on, running odd-jobs and errands for my uncle, occasional cash-in-hand work, touting the family's wine and grappa in local markets and scrounging cash off the others when things got tight. Soon I discovered that I could survive fairly comfortably like this, and the pressure to do anything more soon dropped away. Norbul packed up and moved in with a lover about three years after my arrival and after a few incompatible room-mates we- or rather I- finally stumbled on Grett, who seemed to fit in perfectly. Perhaps we had all been getting too comfortable with one-another, because Grett's fireworks and dramatics had seemed like a breath of fresh air at the time. She was totally different to the rest of us in one way, but in another she was the same. Like me, Degg, Faust and Norbul she had almost no ambition, no long-term plans, no real job and no particular commitments to anything. Degg's place was a kind of ever-shifting mutual support community, a self-justifying, self-perpetuating haven of semi-bohemian slovenliness in the industrious heart of the galatic community's most driven and motivated city.

That's when I realised what the change in attitude was all about, and why I no longer felt entirely comfortable in my own home. They were holding me back. That realisation hurt more than anything inflicted on me by Sloo, but I was determined to do what needed to be done. I just had to find a way to tell them.

[Suicide Junkie]

Even with a format and fresh install of everything, IE 6 only gets as far as the Title, but there, all the purple chapter links are broken.

I'd be happy to type in URLs manually if it meant...

Aha!
http://dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/stories/story_O&amp;C&lt;insert-chapter-number&gt;.htm
Yay, now I can read the story http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/laugh.gif

[TerranC]

A new chapter! A new chapter! Look, everyone, a new chapter!

*TerranC goes crazy from the excitement of seeing a new OnC chapter*

[Baron Munchausen]

Now, when do Cane's new plans collide with Othaglot's under-cover operation? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/confused.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/confused.gif http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/confused.gif

The site works fine with Mozilla 1.7.x btw...

[narf poit chez BOOM]

TerranC said:
A new chapter! A new chapter! Look, everyone, a new chapter!

*TerranC goes crazy from the excitement of seeing a new OnC chapter*


/me watches TC move over one inch.

[dogscoff]

Even with a format and fresh install of everything, IE 6 only gets as far as the Title, but there, all the purple chapter links are broken.




I developped the site in IE6. It works fine. Remember you have to have javascript switched on to view the site. go to tools/options/advanced and make sure the JIT compiler is switched on. If it's switched on already, go to the site and look in the bottom right corner. There will be an icon to tell you what "internet zone" IE has put my site into. Then go to tools/options/security and move my site out of that zone and into a friendlier one. If that still doesn't fix it, install firefox and stop using IE. IE do suck.



Now, when do Cane's new plans collide with Othaglot's under-cover operation?




Ohhh, give it about 3 chapters...



The site works fine with Mozilla 1.7.x btw...




Yes it does. Firefox too, and Opera, and IE6.



A new chapter! A new chapter! Look, everyone, a new chapter!

*TerranC goes crazy from the excitement of seeing a new OnC chapter*




:-D Thought I'd try to sneak it out there, thanks for noticing...



/me watches TC move over one inch.



LOL! I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about Narf. &lt;/sarcasm&gt;

[Unknown_Enemy]

--&gt; Jumping on Dogscoff
--&gt; pointing a phased beam on Dogscof's head
--&gt; firing the beam 6-7 times
--&gt; starting asking questions :
"where's my text ?"
"what are we waiting for ?"
--&gt; threaten to use violence if Dogscof deosn't answer immediately

http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/tongue.gif

[dogscoff]

Wikipedia O&amp;C spoiler/ reference pages: http://invirtuo.cc/phpwiki/index.php/O%26C%20Spoilers

[dogscoff]

Chapter 32 is up.
www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction (http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction)

[Baron Munchausen]

Cripes... I've nearly forgotten where we are in the story... again.

What will you do when SE V comes out if it radically alters the backstory of the Cue Cappa? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif

[dogscoff]

Cripes... I've nearly forgotten where we are in the story... again.




That's what the "summary" section is for. Of course you can always go back and re-read a few chapters...



What will you do when SE V comes out if it radically alters the backstory of the Cue Cappa?




Heh... I'm still waiting for Aaron to phone me up and ask me to re-write the backstory of the Cue Cappa using O&amp;C as a base http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif
Seriously, the CC in O&amp;C don't even comply with the se4 Version- they ought to be water-breathing squiddies living under an ice-sheet. Instead I have them as air-breathing amphibians living in coastal shallows.

[Rasorow]

Reading it for the frist time.... impressed.

Rasorow

[dogscoff]

Cool! Great to get another reader, thanks. Take your time though, updates tend to be somewhat infrequent...

[dogscoff]

By the way, has anyone checked out the spoilers? http://invirtuo.cc/phpwiki/index.php/O%26C%20Spoilers

There are plenty of details in there that don't appear in the story.

[Puke]

you mean the broken XML page? no, never checked that out.

edit: oh, there is a page there if you search for it. seems like the unicode link was just distastefull either to my browser or to the server...

[dogscoff]

An unusually short chapter, but I hope you'll all agree that what it lacks in length it makes up for in drama.

************************************************** *********
O&amp;C Chapter 33.
************************************************** *********

About three weeks later, I had moved out of Degg’s and got myself a job. I didn’t exactly plan to make a career at the spaceport’s information desk, but it was a start. The pay was enough to cover the rent on a tiny flat of my own on Ystin island, and by working overtime I found I could afford to buy food and pay bills as well. I hoped that a little experience with off-world visitors might qualify me for something more highly paid later on, perhaps in the tourist trade. My uncle had offered me a position in the foreign office, but I had regretfully declined. The pay was better and I liked the idea of getting into the diplomatic business, but I wanted to do this without any strings being pulled for me. Uncle En smiled proudly when I told him so.

My departure from Degg’s hadn’t been as smooth as I would have liked. Grett had taken my leaving as some kind of personal attack - she took it to mean that I thought myself too good for them- and the ensuing fireworks had sucked in Degg, Faust and Loorl, resulting in massive argument that left a bad atmosphere hanging over the entire household, and was still present when I went back to collect my belongings a few days later. Loorl had already moved into my room by then, and had accumulated almost an entire tentacle-full of pagan tattoos. He said he was learning tattoo artistry for himself, and hoped to make enough money doing it to stay in Primavera indefinitely. I knew he’d manage it just as I had, surviving on what little money he could earn here and there and scrounging cash from the others when things got tight. I wished him luck, and he seemed to accept it in good faith.

After three weeks I hadn’t managed to find the time or money to go back across the city and visit the others to patch things up, much as I would have loved to. Life was a little dull without them, and I didn’t know anyone in this area at all. My colleagues were friendly, but not much fun and the work was interesting enough to keep me going through the day. The routine was easy to adjust to, and after just three weeks I felt as though I had been living this way for years. Degg’s place seemed light years away, and my adventures in Outlier and aboard the Marilyn felt like another lifetime. I was somewhat shocked, then, when this quiet new lifestyle to which I had become so acclimatised was disrupted by a ghost from the past.

My station in the spaceport was near the arrivals entryway, and I found myself staring at a familiar face. It took some time to place it, but eventually I recognised Yenn, the only crew member other than Captain Frasier to survive the destruction of the Marilyn. She was walking seriously and purposefully toward the taxi dock, and I was suddenly struck with indecision. Should I abandon my post to speak to her, or would it be better to let her go about her business? Before I could make my mind up, she was gone, her close-cropped head lost in the crowd. Immediately I regretted not having spoken to her, so when Captain Frasier walked past a moment later I vaulted my desk, leaving a colleague to deal with the queue of tourists alone, and ran after my old acquaintance.

He was still limping along on the prosthetic legs he had been fitted with aboard the Worthwhile Endeavour, and I realised he and Yenn must just be returning from their salvage trip. I caught up with him easily, and not really knowing how best to initiate conversation, simply stood in front of him.

“Why, Mister Cane.” He said, understandably surprised.
Until that moment it hadn’t occurred to me that he might not welcome my presence. After all, I had lied to him about the nature of my journey when I came aboard his craft, and- although I could in no rational way be held responsible- had been tangled up in the whole affair that had led to the destruction of his ship and horrific murder of his crew. He had been civil enough to me aboard the Endeavour, but that might have been politeness, or perhaps his opinion of me had altered in the time he had spent surveying the nightmare-ridden wreck that had once been his home, livelihood and investment.

“Captain Frasier,” I said, somewhat at a loss for anything else. “How are you?” I silently cursed the question for its stupidity as soon as I had uttered it, but he didn’t bother to answer. Instead he grabbed my wrist and looked around furtively. Content that no-one was listening in, he pulled my arm until my ear was close to his mouth and said,
“We must arrange to meet later. My insurance assessor and the salvage crew are all around here somewhere, and I can’t let any of them know about any of this. You must meet me, it’s vitally important.”
“Why?” I asked, somewhat bemused. He fixed me with an intense stare that was grim determination and abject terror all at once.
“It’s her.” At first I thought he meant Yenn, but after a half a second the meaning sank in. “She’s alive, and now she’s here.”
He slipped a contact card in my top pocket and left me staring dumbly into the crowds, eyes wet, guts clenching uncontrollably and fists slowly tightening until my fingernails drew blood from my palms.

************************************************** *********

What do you mean you haven't read the rest? Go read it now! http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction

[dogscoff]

*BUMP* for different timezones.

[El_Phil]

You couldn't post the whole story up here as zip or something could you? This flavour of IE doesn't like the javascript on your site so I can't get to the rest of the story. If it might help here's the error I get

Line:: 71
Character: 5
Error: 'null' is null or not an object
Code: 0
URL: http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/scifimenu.htm

Can't do anything about this browser it's locked down by the resident IT monkeys so if the problems at this end I'm stuck with it http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/frown.gif

[dogscoff]

EL_PHil: That's my fault. I'm currently trying to fix the site so that it works properly with non-IE browsers, and in doing so have broken it for IE&gt;

I'll switch it back to the old code (Wasn't getting anywere anyway). Try again.

EDIT: Working again (as well as it ever did, anyway.)
If you (or anyone) ever have problems with it, just go to http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/stories and pick out the story files one by one.

[El_Phil]

Ahh cheers for that.

Well there goes a big chunk of my spare time while I get up to date! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/laugh.gif

[Fyron]

Do you have php support on your server? It would be easy to write a few php functions to do what you are wanting and avoid javascript entirely.

[dogscoff]

Do you have php support on your server?




No idea. It's hosted by my isp, www.plus.net (http://www.plus.net)



It would be easy to write a few php functions to do what you are wanting and avoid javascript entirely.




Define "easy". If "easy"="easy for Fyron" then yes, I don't doubt it. However if "easy"="easy for poor, stoopid old dogscoff" then the answer might be somewhat different. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/confused.gif

[Fyron]

You can test php functionality by creating a file named "test.php", adding the following code to it, and uploading it to the server:

<font class="small">Code:</font><hr /><pre>&lt;?php
$hello = "Hello ";
$ds = "Dogscoff.";
echo $hello.$ds;
?&gt;</pre><hr />
The output should look like this page (http://www.spaceempires.net/test.php).

[dogscoff]

*BUMP*

ANyone read this latest chapter?

El_Phil, how did you get on with the rest?

[Baron Munchausen]

Yes, but it's so very short and its single point is long expected. What's to comment on? Why didn't he tell us how he learned she was alive? Why isn't he dead if he discovered her? You'd think that would make for quite a story...

[El_Phil]

Well I can safely say that many hours were enjoyable wasted when I really, really should of been working.

Excellent read, but I would of prefered to start reading it ohhh... in about two days time when I should have some spare time.

[dogscoff]

Baron Munchausen said:
Yes, but it's so very short and its single point is long expected. What's to comment on? Why didn't he tell us how he learned she was alive? Why isn't he dead if he discovered her? You'd think that would make for quite a story...



Yeah alright then. All those revelations come next, but I just couldn't bring myself to hide Frasier's news (however long expected) in the middle of a chapter. It deserves to be at the end of a chapterwhere it belongs, with a big dramatic "DUN DUN DUNNNNN!!!! Tune in next week* for the next thrilling installment of..."

*Yeah, I know, weekly installments, as opposed to sporadic spurts of writing every 4 months or so would be great, but I know myself too well to ever promise anything like that. Rest assured though, I'm working on Chapter 34 today. That much I can promise.

[dogscoff]

Baron Munchausen said:
...You'd think that would make for quite a story...



I think it does. go to my website to see if you agree. Chapter 34 is up. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif

http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction

As usual I look forward to reading everyone's comments, criticisms, praise, speculation and reports of typoes/ gaping plot holes in this thread. Thanks for reading.

[Baron Munchausen]

So are we doomed to eternal limbo on this story?

[dogscoff]

Wow... talk about thread necromancy =-)

I'm afraid I have lost the will to finish writing it. I feel I lost my way with it, really, and to be honest there are some cringingly bad bits in there that make me want to just delete it all and hope that everyone forgets it ever existed. Apparently they won't though, and reading back through I concede that there are some great bits that I really like.

I haven't written anything for almost a year now (I have at least two other non-SE4 writing projects on the go, neither of which I have posted here), and I don't think I'm ever likely to finish O&amp;C properly. Totally re-written, it might make a decent story, but I doubt I'd ever get round to that.

However, I did have an idea of where the plot was going, and (believe it or not) it almost all falls into place and ties up the loose threads without leaving any (or many) gaping plot holes. I think. Here then, for the sake of closure and as a way of thanks to those of you who supported me through this bizarre project, is who the story ends:

Othaglot &amp; Cane: Chapters 35 to end (summary).
**********************************************

After chapter 34, Othaglot makes his call to Loorl, with Hammer listening in. Loorl doesn't give him away as he'd feared, but does say some things to make Hammer even more suspicious. Loorl goes straight to the Canes, and they immediately set about locating Project Asgard's secret island. Meanwhile, they are also searching for the rogue Cue Cappan, now known to be loose in the city somewhere.

Hammer decides to kill Othaglot, mostly out of paranioa. He tells him that he's decided to let him go back to the city and pick up the tech in person after all, with the intention of killing him on the flight and dumping the body in the sea. The execution is botched when some of the Vikings turn on Hammer in defence of Othaglot, who has become very popular. During the struggle, Othaglot is thrown out of the vehicle into the sea. He can tell from the craft's con trail which way Primavera city is, and he's a semi-aquatic species anyway, so he begins swimming for civilisation.

Weeks pass. Eventually they locate the island, but it's abandoned. From evidence found at the site they are able to identify the coloniser (disguised as a transport), but it has already begun its journey. The Endeavour is undergoing a refit and training up new crew, and once ready it will be despatched to catch the colony ship. They find the stolen armour plans on the island, along with an apologetic note. The stolen Cue Cappan technology (from Chapter 28) remains unaccounted for.

There is no sign of Othaglot, and everyone is really worried. They hope he's safe aboard the colony ship.

Soon afterwards, thanks to a lucky encounter by Cane's ex-flatmates (who mistook her for Loorl), they also track down the rogue. One way or another it turns into a one-on-one confrontation between her and Cane, at the docks near the Sergetti quarter. Holding her at gunpoint, he listens to her plead for her life.

She says that's she's not the psychotic killer everyone thinks she is, but the innocent traveller she said she was on the Marilyn. She hid when the Endeavour arrived because she thought they were being boarded by pirates, and then stayed in hiding when she realised everyone thought she was a murderer. She saw a second cue cappan and an empty cryotube in the cargo hold before the explosion. After the explosion, she took Othaglot's suit and floated around in the wreckage, dodging the Endeavour's cleanup crews, before taking up residence in the re-pressurised bridge. When the salvage ship arrived, she snuck aboard and when Frasier came down to the hold that night, she chased after him (holding a tin opener, not a knife), desperately begging for help, except she'd lost her translator. He slammed the door on her and then, for some reason she didn't understand, kept coming down and giving her food for the rest of the voyage.

She tells a very convincing story and Cane isn't sure. He's seen both Sloo and the killer, but didn't know enough about Cue Cappans during the fight in the cargo container to be able to tell if they are the same person. The only person who could tell for sure is Othaglot, who would recognise the killer again if he encountered her. Cane can't pull the trigger, but then the police arrive. It looks as though she's going to be taken in when Cane notices something purple in the water. It's Othaglot, floating lifelessly. He dives in to save him, but is immediately confronted by a pair of Sergetti hunters: They claim the body as a trophy due to the long-standing animosity between Cue Cappans and Sergetti (First mentioned in Chapter 27 - it all ties together, see?) and refuse to relinquish it. They threaten Cane and look as though they might kill him. Suddenly the Cue Cappan rogue, moments from being captured by the police, dives into the water and lands right among the Sergetti. A battle ensues ( http://www.dogscoff.plus.com/fiction/images/scififight.jpg )
in which she is killed, but Othaglot's body is released for Cane to retrieve.

It turns out that although the host is dead, killed by exhaustion and malnutrition (the partially-terraformed oceans of Plenty didn't provide very much to eat), Othaglot's cappa has just survived, although it is very weak and doubtless traumatised by the experience. The only way to save it is to implant it into Loorl, the nearest available host. Othloorl is born, a personality distinct from either Othaglot or Loorl, but sharing traits of either. Othloorl has Othaglot's keen mind and sense of duty, but Loorl's laidback attitude and sense of mischief. Despite fears that their personalities will be incompatible and lead to some kind of mental instability, it turns out that their recent experiences have made them more alike than anyone would have supposed 20 chapters ago, and the new personality is viable.

Further investigation into the unjoined rights movement mentioned in Chapter 28 reveals that the killer was a Cappa born with a very rare natural psychic sense, one that requires no Cue. People born with this condition do tend toward mental health issues, and in her case it (combined with various traumatic events in her life) made her into a killer. Her actions and motivations can mostly be pieced together from the conversation in Ch 28. Records of a person named Sloo, matching the story given by the passenger on the Marilyn are found, but whether that was the actual Sloo or whether the killer just murdered her and stole her identity is unknown.

The body of the rogue is never recovered from the Sergetti, so her identity of the Marilyn's passnger is never clarified. Was it the killer in disguise that Cane befriended, who dived into the water to escape the police and got caught up in a fight with the Sergetti unintentionally? Or were there really two Cappans; the killer who presumably died aboard the Marilyn (but may still be at large) and Sloo, the innocent tourist who dived in and gave her life to save Cane? We'll never know.

OthLoorl and the two Canes are invited aboard the Endeavour for the mission to catch the colony ship full of vikings. The ship is heading through Gamallon, toward the Outlier system (See map: http://www.dogscoff.co.uk/fiction/stories/map_O&amp;C0.htm ) and the Endeavour is fast enough to catch them on the Human side of the Outlier warp point. However, due to some teething problems with their new, refitted engine systems they don't catch up with them until the the Outlier system, just in time to see the colony ship plunge through the hazardous third warp point there, to what can only mean certain doom. To everyone's surprise and dismay, the Captain orders the Endeavour to follow, and it arrives unscathed in orbit around the black hole. There, undamaged, is the colony ship. The stolen armour technology, fitted to the colony ship and a component in the Endeavour's recent refit, has made safe navigation of the warp point possible.

When they open communication with the Viking ship they find Hammer conspicuously absent. No-one will actually own up to killing him, but it is strongly suggested that "honour was served" before they left Plenty. It becomes clear that the Vikings, suddenly leaderless, panicked and decided to attempt to complete project Asgard anyway, despite not having the Altoona's stolen technology (mentioned in Chapter 28 - it turns out to be psychic scanners, which explains the mystery of how the Cue Cappans found a dead body in space in the first place), which was to be to be given to the Sallegans in return for colonisation rights to a system on the borders of their space, beyond the black hole and second warp point. (First mentioned in chapter 2- See map again- see, there *was* some planning going on, even back then) The vikings didn't know how to deal with the Sallegan problem, so many of them are almost relieved to have been caught.

The moment the Vikings see Othloorl they immediately forgive him for infiltrating them as an undercover spy/ policeman and are generally delighted to see him. They keep soliciting for advice, and it doesn't annoy him nearly as much as it would have done Othaglot.

The Endeavour forces the colony ship back through the warp point to go home, but discover a number of Cue Cappan warships waiting for them. They want to claim custody of the Vikings, and it looks as though some kind of interstellar incident may arise. Luckily Cane Senior (a foreign office diplomat, remember) is aboard and, after some serious wrangling, it is decided to allow the Vikings to go on their way and create their new colony. The Cue Cappan and Human governments even promise to intervene with the Sallegan government on the Vikings' behalf, using their knowledge of the Sallegan's attempt to buy stolen technology as leverage. In return the Vikings, now living on the borders of Sallegan space, must keep a close eye on the Sallegans on behalf of the humans and Cue Cappans, especially since the (no longer secret) armour technology means that the warp points can now be safely traversed, making the Outlier system a strategically significant junction of Cue Cappan, human and Sallegan space.

Othloorl realises that he's tired of policing, spying and his lifestyle in general, and decides that colony-building might make a nice change. He accepts the Vikings' offer of leadership, boarding the colony ship to guide them into their future.

Cane returns to Plenty and moves back in with his friends, to await the not-forthcoming sequel.

[narf poit chez BOOM]

Woot!

[Suicide Junkie]

Yay for closure!

Thanks, DS http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif