Serial CodeIt was cold out today, colder than usual anyway, it was always cold out here. He hadnt been home in five years now, but that didnt bother him, at least he was still alive. Unlike many others he was still breathing steam into the freezing atmosphere, still able to feel the bite of the wind on his face, and most importantly, still able to do his job.Serial Code in Science Fiction More Like This
Yes, he could still do that best, no matter where he was, he could still shoot to kill. It was his duty, and what he was told and trained to do. It was this skill that had managed to keep him alive for so long. Hed seen plenty of faces come and go. Friends get killed, or the lucky ones sent home without limbs. But after five years, he stopped paying attention to most of them, too sick of the pain, the sense of loss, and the rage.
When he was still fresh, it was duty that drove him, after a few months it became rage. Anger in
The Fate of the BlasphemerThe Fate of the Blasphemer in Biography & Memoir More Like This
Kevin the Blasphemer, ruler of a thousand worlds, turned warily around the next corner and into a dark stone room. He was lost in an insane game of the gods, trapped in a maze of indefinite dimensions, a test of his faith. Stripped of all but his wit, he carried on. Slowly he felt his way through the dark, damp chamber. Then he heard it, the grinding of stone on stone, the closing of one door and opening of another.
Before him, light poured through the new opening, and he could see what appeared to be the outside world again. But then the image began to ripple and blur as if it was made of some sort of liquid. Out sprung the first of them.
What the fuck?!? said Kevin of the Rokitkas. It was a rat, and upon its back sat a Pygmy Leprechaun wielding a welding torch. Then to his dismay, Kevin noticed that a rocket launcher took the place of this rats face.
Warhammer 40k PrimerThe Warhammer 40k Primer: describing the numerous factions and races in the Warhammer 40k universeWarhammer 40k Primer in Science Fiction More Like This
By- Kingdoms Shield
It is The 41 millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.
Yet even in his deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battle fleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the manifestation of the Emperors will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest among them are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineere
Nihilus--Part 4Nihilus--Part 4 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He heard the order whispered hollowly on his comm unit, knew and trusted the voice that spoke it. The order was a crushing treachery, but it could spark no more hatred from his already bitter heart. His hand moved to the comm without his awareness and he thought he could hear himself screaming, raw disbelief.
"But we're still down here! We're still down here!"
The order was given again, despite his appeals.
"Activate the Mass Shadow Generator."
Those engaged in life-and-death battles around him stopped as his voice discharged over the landscape like the sudden blast of a gun that had been held to your forehead, the voice of one man pushed with injustice after injustice. Their eyes were bloodshot, dirty with guilt and the lives of the thousands they had murdered, wild with the frenzy of adrenaline and the power of unleashing death's hand to any who drew too near. They could not understand why this man would bother shouting when he could be killing. But they came to understand wh
KotOR: Carth And The Fangirl It was a quiet evening in the happy world of BioWareLand. Carth, Revan and Mission were walking up and down the hallways of the large office building, discussing how the game designers were going to pull off something as large-scale as rescuing Bastila. Suddenly, Revan squeaked and skidded to a halt. Carth stared at her strangely, and as she pointed behind him, Mission started giggling.KotOR: Carth And The Fangirl in General Fiction More Like This
"Don't look now, flyboy," Revan whispered, "but you've got an admirer."
"Other than you?" Carth asked.
"Other than me."
Carth turned slowly, and when he did, he just about leaped a mile off the ground. For right behind him was...
She had big eyes (almost like you might find on a chibi) and an adorably stupid grin. She watched Carth unceasingly, never letting her eyes leave his face. Carth felt suddenly very nervous, but he couldn't move, because The Fangirl fawned over him every time he trie
Silver Dragon KnightSilver Dragon Knight in Fantasy More Like This
He would savor this moment for years to come. His first battle, his first chance to earn his sword and prove himself a warrior. Everything came down to the first battle, because if you died here, or lived by sheer fluke, you still lost. There was no room for failure on the battlefield.
Sweat poured down his forehead, trickling into his eyes and between his lips, but he continued to fight, swinging his sword in high arcs and swift blows. His dark, sweat soaked hair hung limply, his dark skin glistening as tiny red flecks of someone else's blood splattered back onto him as his sword flashed, again and again, it's blade like silver lightning. His face was twisted in concentration and battle lust as he whirled about to face his oncoming opponents and came to face a nearly empty battlefield.
Only a few feet from him, a few familiar faces lay in ghastly positions, testaments to their death, some of them impaled by the crude copper swords of the Draconian, others missing limbs, torn off by Ti
The Coming Storm'Crap, can you believe this? One moment I was spending the night with that dancer, the one with the sweet moves and all that glittering dancing jewellery. The next were all stuck out in a field looking for something that fell from the skies. This is nothing but a ghost hunt most likely.' Trooper Radek bemoaned his current situation yet again, while maintaining a vigilant look ahead of him as he advanced in a fanned out line with the rest of his Cadian squad members.The Coming Storm in Science Fiction More Like This
'Something fell from the skies, we just don't know what as of yet.' It came from one of the locals assigned to the company, a corporal by the name of Judith Kerman, a local scout seconded by the PDF to help the off-world forces get along more with the locals. From the sound of her voice she was sure of the unidentified object and that the suggestion that it was bogus nothing short of insulting.
'Sure thing darling, something fell from the skies. You bumpkins take everything way too serious.' Radek's tone was a mocking
CIS vs GAR WarshipsCIS Warships vs. Republic warshipsCIS vs GAR Warships in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
The Republic seems to have the advantage in capital ship combat, but the CIS has some equalizing advantages.
Many of the CIS warships are designed for mass production, and were designed for business scores not a full scale war. Many of the CIS leaders were cheap, and wouldnt spend the money for a traditional fleet. Only the Providences seem to be specifically designed for combat. The Lukrehulks are simply converted freighters with VERY strong shields and some turbolaser offensive capability., but with the sheer number of Turbolasers and the shield power added, with the fighter and troop compliment, a Lucrehulk is much a more battle-worthy ship than a carrier like a Venator (why it takes a flotilla to take them down). That's not bad at all for a converted ship, isn't it The Recusants are mass-produced destroyers. The Munificents are originally used to harass worlds heavily in debt, guard treasure vaults, and transfer finan
Dral'kote Beskar'bor'adDral'kote Beskar'bor'ad in Drama More Like This
Name: Dral'kote Gotal'yaim Beskar'bor'ad
Alias: Night Stalker
Eye Color: Brown/Green
Hair Color: Dark Brown
Born at the end of (Year and Event). The child was raised by Mandalorians parents on the planet Ordo.
Trained from the age of 5, he became a skilled technician and shadow warrior.
Training in the battle circle was something he did regularly. Working on his fathers Basalisk War Droid was something he enjoyed greatly.When he turned 16 he was sent into the desert as a test of survival.
Finding his way home no easy task. Fighting the heat, creatures and eventually making it to the jungle and home.
After completing this task, he was able to make his beskar'gam (helmet and armor).
Two years later his parents gave him gifts, after choosing to travel the galaxy.
His father gave him the modified Basilisk and his mother gave him her Verpine Sniper Rifle