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{START RECORDING} This is an interview with Samus Aran. The famous freebooter who has openly fought for both sides in the ongoing Kerian war on a battle-by-battle basis. (Show Intro.) Samus Aran. A War Pop-Culture Icon. (Show Intro Ends.) The Kerian Rebellion has been raging for 39 years. It is officially the longest running war of all time. Most of the soldiers who fought in it's first battle are dead and in some cases there are third generation soldiers fighting for a war they were born into. John Presley III is a Confederate Marine currently in training to become a Light Armored Vehicle Mechanic. His father was a Scout Sniper with the Confederate Marauders, and his father was among the first galactic marines to perish during the rebellions' initial station bombings. Every time Samus Aran lands on a planet, any planet, she runs the risk of being apprehended and arrested for one of a few dozen crimes, although her status as a neo-folk hero causes most outer rim planetary police to turn a blind eye. Her existence and success as a 'pure mercenary' fighting for both sides has actually been turning the long and bloody rebellion into what many citizens on both sides would call a circus. There are even a few hopeful worshipers who hope that her 'antics' can take the sails out of this war for good. An anonymous military source is quoted as saying: "Aran jumps from side to side winning battles and getting paid insane amounts of credits. If she is good she could run this war into the ground. If she is smart she could ride it into the sky." Her suit and her ship continue to be sought after by both the Kerian State and the Confederacy. For her part, she seems to have unwavering loyalty to the highest bidder. She fights periodically for either side, and so far she has spent an almost equal amount of time fighting for both. She has fought on planetary soil. She has boarded military space stations. She has fought in the black of space. Now she comes to you courtesy of the IZZA Network. I'm Jon Tapin, and this is 'Real War'. "Hello." Samus spoke. "Hello Ms. Aran. You may know that my last interview was with General Tarmun, of the Confederancy. That interview was what made me want to make you the subject of my next interview. He said you were the coldest person he ever worked with. He said you killed people like you were mopping a floor; like it didn't mean anything to you; like you were just working and waiting to go home. As a lifelong and highly decorated soldier, he seemed a bit disturbed by you. What do you think about that?" She seemed only slightly annoyed with the question. "We boarded a ship together." She said, almost defensively. "I was in my suit...He really said that?" "He did. He said you ripped someone in half when you just as easily could have blasted him. It seemed to be a memory that affected his opinion of you." "Everyone has a reputation for being one way or another, I guess." She was silent for a moment and then said. "You know, I once spent an entire summer applying for waitress positions on the old station. They all wanted me to have experience, but I had no idea how I was supposed to get experience if I couldn't get a job in the first place." "It's funny that you mention that." "What?" "Trying to get a normal job." "Why?" "Well, I'm sure you could guess my team and I looked up on you as much as we could before this interview." "Sure." "[laughs] Well you are completely blackflagged in ever single employment and government database in existance. In fact both of the sides you fight for have you marked for non-employment with keywords that include, but are not limited to: Mercenary traitor murderer rebel mutineer deserter pirate taxdodger smuggler terrorist thief embezzler criminal hostager felon noncitizen" "Like I said, I couldn't get that waitress job. Is hostager really a word?" "Honestly though, tell me how you got where you are now. The last your records show you are a 14th grade runaway at the age of 15. We know you were raised at a temple as a war orphan, we can see all of your grades; mostly good, a few bad. No developmental problems filed, no behavioral medications administered. You could have filed for scholarships to any of the high level station-schools, but you didn't even try. You disappeared one week after a murder took place two streets away from your temple. I'm hardly the first to put two and two together; the local police still have you listed as the primary suspect in that murder, and if you were to land on your homeworld today, armor and fame and all, the police would still be obligated to apprehend you." "Like I said again, I couldn't get the waitress job. The government sure as hell wouldn't hire a human, I couldn't even join the military. I wish I could say I was simply taking an opportunity that presented itself, but that isn't true. I could have stayed at the temple and worked, I would have survived, but I didn't want to just survive, and I sure as hell didn't want to stay at the temple. I'm thankful everyday that one day when I was 11 a man offered me 20 credits to watch for the police outside an apartment building. I'm thankful that same man later offered me money to store his packages at the temple. I was valuable for the first time, a little orphan girl with a scarred face in temple robes. No peacekeeper with half a heart would ever bother me. It was my first honest relationship, they took advantage of me and I took advantage of them." "So you were a criminal?" "So I found work. Who the hell was I to think of illegality? It was a miracle just to find people who were willing to pay me for anything. They earned my undying loyalty the first time they gave me enough money to buy more than food. It was more than anyone else ever did for me." "But part of your value to them was your position as a temple orphan." "Exactly, and I only had another year of that." "So if you wanted to stay in the fold you would have to prove your worth otherwise." "Well, I was already a good worker. I already had friends. At that point I didn't think they would just ditch me, but my impending maturity instilled in me a sense of ambition, and I wanted to do more." "And nothing was off limits?" Samus rolled her eyes, "You're getting ahead of yourself. I know you probably came into this interview with my story ninety percent written in your head, like I just agreed to beat some junkie to death with a rock for my ship and suit, but just listen. At this point I'm 15, about 9 months from maturity and independence. I spent my days tutoring younger girls and applying for waitress jobs, and I spent my nights sneaking out and meeting my handler, exchanging or holding packages, giving away temple medical supplies and food, or patching up 2 day old infected bullet wounds as best I could with my medical training." Froglight fucked around with this message at 22:46 on Dec 13, 2013 |
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Nov 27, 2013 12:32
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Wow. At first, when I came into this thread, I was feeling especially magnanimous and was going to do some free line editing (I was an English major in college) but it quickly became apparent to me that it would be like over-sharpening an already sharp as heck sword. This is definitely the work of a person in charge of his craft. The subject matter is engaging (who DOESN'T love Samus Aran? Classic Nintendo video game protagonist? Check. Extremely hot babe? Check. Not a top tier SSB:M character but powerful enough under the control of a skilled player), the pacing is excellent, and the dialogue, impeccable. This has publishable written all over it. I particularly enjoyed the part about her characteristics, and the characteristics of her suit and her ship. It practically jumped off the page. I was in heaven already, and then she spoke! "Hello." Samus spoke. Simple. Elegant. No frills or bells or whistles like they like to do in some books. It's just the type of thing a badass freebooter would say at the beginning of an interview. I enjoyed the reference to the past interview and how that interview, the past one, influenced to course of the current interview. That is the type of backstory which can really add depth to a piece. You know there's a cause and effect going on here. This isn't just exposition for exposition's sake. Exquisite. She seemed only slightly annoyed with the question. Again, great imagery. I can just feel the slight annoyance radiate from Samus Aran in this passage. The following back-and-forth about getting a normal job is brilliant. It's out of the blue and seemingly contrary to the whole space pirate theme but, for some reason, it fits perfectly! Samus Aran trying to become a waitress! Love it! Getting a normal job is something most readers can relate to. I know I can. You can relate to it. It humanizes her. From that point on the piece is more or less a tour-de-force. The tension that began building up with the intro pretty much doesn't fairly loving let up and the climax of the piece leaves me wondering: What is next for Samus Aran, the classic Nintendo character brought down to our mortal realm vis-a-vis this excellent short piece of yours I can find absolutely nothing wrong with. Subscribed.
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Nov 27, 2013 16:21
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I know this is REALLY nitpicking but: The Kerian Rebellion has been raging for 39 years. It is officially the longest running war of all time. The Hundred Years War, for example, lasted 116 years, far longer than the 39 of the Kerian Rebellion. I understand the universe of your piece might be only tangentially related to our own (I'm NOT an expert on NES, SNES, n64, Gamecube, Wii, or Wii U gaming lore... does Metroid take place in our universe??) but surely there has been, even in a fictional or parallel Metroid universe, a war that has lasted longer than 39 years? Again, I know I'm nitpicking. The purpose of this forum is for criticisms and I hope you don't take too much offense, but it's really the only semi-unbelievable part of your story. Make it 139 and your narrative is airtight. Cheers.
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Nov 27, 2013 16:35
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FAKE EDIT: Wow.. just checked Wikipedia. The Hundred Years' War is quote:commonly divided into three phases separated by truces: the Edwardian Era War (1337–60), the Caroline War (1369–89) and the Lancastrian War (1415–53)... For accounting purposes most scholars in fact count the three phases as three separate but related wars.  I did the math and even the Lancastrian War (1415-53) only amounted to 38 years, one year shorter than your Kerian Rebellion.  "Oh ye of so little faith!" I apologize for doubting the veracity of events in your story and humbly retract my previous criticism. It looks like you've done your research. Carry on.
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Nov 27, 2013 16:42
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quote:"[laughs] Well you are completely blackflagged in ever single employment and government database in existance. In fact both of the sides you fight for have you marked for non-employment with keywords that include, but are not limited to: Mercenary traitor murderer rebel mutineer deserter pirate taxdodger smuggler terrorist thief embezzler criminal hostager felon noncitizen"  Do you think she could answer any follow-up questions? How does she feel about turning into a ball? I really like watching her turn into one. angel opportunity fucked around with this message at 17:00 on Nov 27, 2013 |
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Nov 27, 2013 16:58
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Sorry, but with the mention of John Presley III this piece became at least 5% canon, please amend your thread title / OP.
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Nov 27, 2013 17:35
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Haomo posted:FAKE EDIT: Haomo is definitely right here, and I'm gonna give you a little  for the effort and passion you've put into this, OP.
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Dec 2, 2013 02:00
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Funny thing about the Kerian Rebellion; not one single Kerian fought or died during it; the greatest war the galaxy has ever seen. Mostly because when it began there were no Kerians, because there was no Kerry. "The Kerian Rebellion, what a loving clown show." General Tarmun gave the impression that he wanted to scoff, or even smirk, but simply didn't have the energy. "Only this generation would willfully continue a pointless galactic rebellion for a planet that was destroyed forty years ago." If Jon Tapin had been a bit more sure of himself as a reporter, and a bit less starstruck by the military giant that sat across from him, he may have spoken with the good General about how the number of dead Kerians still absolutely dwarfed the casualty figures of both sides combined after 40 years of constant warfare. Instead, he hesitated awkwardly and asked the question that everyone at home was more interested in hearing: "Did you ever work with Samus, for or against?" --------------- Sixteen years before Samus was born, the Galactic Confederacy took it's economical ruthlessness to a new level when it decided to gut a planet thats' core was worth more than it's civililization. Kerian civilization was about ten years past networking computers. Kerry was on the cusp on achieving complete global communications. Kerry was an arguably more fashionable 1980's Earth. Initially when the confederacy discovered Kerry, the humans felt like they had discovered a long lost sibling. The history of Kerry was so similiar to the history of Earth that the humans were already jockying for Galactic Council rights for the Kerians who didn't even know there was alien life, let alone a Galactic Council. The humans voted for immediate contact and uprise of the Kerian civilizations, and the rest of the galaxy seemed to have no objection until a surveying drone returned from a trip to the planet's core. Kerry was 1980 Earth, this was known. Kerry had a core that contained enough fuel to last the Confederacy three generations alone. This was learned. Upon learning of the value of Kerry's core the humans' sent immediate "Cease Research" and "Protect Life" requests to the Confederacy. It is widely accepted that the Confederacy pretended to not recieve the requests. Twenty days after the estimated delivery date of the request Kerry was stripped of indigenous life and was converted into a mining colony. The summarized execution of an entire civilized planet for monetary gain reflected very poorly on the already unpopular Confederacy. It was a stark and shocking sign that the powers-that-be had truly deluded themselves into thinking they could do anything they wanted. It was the hardest anyone had ever stepped over any line, and, as many Confederate sworn military officers would later lament, the worst tactical blunder any government had ever made. The tired and until now fringe anti-confederate groups ran a very successful 'We are all Kerian's' publicity campaign that took less than a month to lead to widespread violent insurgence. Froglight fucked around with this message at 07:30 on Dec 4, 2013 |
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Dec 4, 2013 06:34
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Hang on, is this canon!? Edit: misread thread title. Apologies.
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Dec 4, 2013 17:00
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I really like how you aren't getting bogged down by "character does a thing" and "other character tries to stop him" and it's impact on this piece of exposition and on it's events'. You have stories of these grand, galactic events and geopolitical (can I say geopolitical if it's IN SPACE?) conflicts that would definitely arise from discovery of a planet with a lower level of technology. This planet, who's exploitation leads to an uprising, is crushed because motehrfucking SAMUS ARAN is involved--but she's just mentioned in passing! drat! Its like you have this mythical character that we all know about, and you kind of break the fourth wall when someone says that is what everyone really wants to know about, but it's got me chomping at the bit for the next entry into the saga. When is Samus going to suit up? Is she going to redeem herself for her atrocities' committed during the Kerian rebellion, how will her redemption and it's impact impact General Tarmin and John Tapin, character's I feel like are my close friends already.
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Dec 4, 2013 17:36
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systran posted:I really like how you aren't getting bogged down by "character does a thing" and "other character tries to stop him" and it's impact on this piece of exposition and on it's events'. You have stories of these grand, galactic events and geopolitical (can I say geopolitical if it's IN SPACE?) conflicts that would definitely arise from discovery of a planet with a lower level of technology. This planet, who's exploitation leads to an uprising, is crushed because motehrfucking SAMUS ARAN is involved--but she's just mentioned in passing! drat! Its like you have this mythical character that we all know about, and you kind of break the fourth wall when someone says that is what everyone really wants to know about, but it's got me chomping at the bit for the next entry into the saga. When is Samus going to suit up? Is she going to redeem herself for her atrocities' committed during the Kerian rebellion, how will her redemption and it's impact impact General Tarmin and John Tapin, character's I feel like are my close friends already. its super awesome no word of a lie. I think maybe more charctater development of samu's supersuit could be in order - p'haps it's actually a sexy dude (or a chick I guess) and they make out? not sure, appreciate you don't want to stray too far from cannon.
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Dec 4, 2013 20:51
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Guys, this is. not. cannon. Though I am starting to wish they could make a 3DS title that takes place during the Kerian rebellion. I doubt Nintendo would publish it, but a good third-party publisher like Atlus (NOT whoever the gently caress did other M though, please...) could do it. Maybe we'd learn through the coarse of the game that Samus was actually trying to save the Kerians, and she was scapegoated into being the fallwoman for the real big bad? OR Froglight could let us know. Let's hope he can write these faster than once a week.
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Dec 4, 2013 21:16
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systran posted:Guys, this is. not. cannon. Maybe the big bad is her suit? Just spitballing here.
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Dec 4, 2013 21:19
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"Hang on, hang on." Jon let out a nervous laugh. "This is getting away from me. I had a few more questions about your childhood." "Alright. Sorry about that." "No no, don't be. It's fine. I'm staying with you for a while and hopefully we'll be having hours of conversation like this. I have to edit it all afterwards later. I think it's important to note that you were in fact a war orphan, and you were being raised by religious sisters of an alien race. Did your father fight in the war? Or were you part of a civilian family, and if so what side can be blamed for their deaths?" "The Sisters wouldn't tell any of us girls anything about that, whether or not they even knew." "Why was that?" Samus laughed. "Little girls have a hard enough time getting along without bloody family war grudges. We were taught not to dwell on those things. Those other girls were the only family I ever really had anyway." "That makes a lot of sense, actually. What about your name? It's not a human name is it?" "Samus is not. That's the name the Larean Sisters gave me. She was one of their old gods. She was the god of music, hunting and..." Samus leaned back her in her chair tapping the side of her cheek and looking up in thought. "and...I always forget this one. Tablesetting! That's right! I don't know how I always forget it when it's so weird. It's not weird to Lareans though, they take that poo poo seriously." Jon looked down at his blank pad with a tight lipped smile. "And Aran?" "We all got to choose our second names when we turned 16, and when we were like 10 one of my friends had the idea that when the time came we should all use an alternative spelling of our father's first names, because that was the one thing that the Sisters did tell us about our past. They thought it was important to give us something, even if it was a pointless token, of our past and where we came from." "So your father was-?" "Aaron." "Well that was actually pretty interesting. I'm glad I asked. I should also note that right now we are aboard your very own ship, at your dining room table actually. Tell us about your ship." "Well it's a human ship, which is strange considering I haven't even met many other humans, but good because the doorways and beds are all the right size. It's a freighter with crew quarters for twelve plus a captain, and it's retrofitted with- Did you want me to go into detail about the guns?" "No that's okay, we can do that later. There will be graphics and intense music for the audience for that part." Samus let out a small laugh, "Sounds good." "How did you come by your ship?" "An old man gave it to me." "An Old Man?." "An old man." "Alright then, we'll come back to that later. One last note because it's almost been twenty minutes and my host told me we could talk for fifteen before she had to check the ships navigation, and I don't want to hold her up and cause us to crash into a star or something. Samus has graciously agreed to let me stay aboard her ship and follow her for two months as she does what she does. As far as I know this has never happened before. I told my producer it would be useless to even try to contact you, and a week after she ignored me here I am, with all my bags in one of your crew quarters, sitting at your dinner table. Why did you accept?" "I'm not sure. I guess I thought it might be fun. That and you were the only person to ever ask anything like that. I really do need to check on the ship though. Why don't you go get set up in your room. I'll get on the intercom if I need to let you know anything. We have twenty hours of flying before we hit the next fuel station." "I think I'll get situated, maybe do a little editing and get some sleep then. I've been up for 28 hours so far, hustling to meet to you by the time you left Polis Station." A few hours later Jon was startled awake by the sound of Samus's voice blaring through a speaker in his celing. "Hey are you up?" Jon threw his covers off and reached for his glasses on the gray featureless nightstand. "Wha-? Yeah, I mean, no, but now yeah." "Oh, sorry. I know this thing is loud, I don't think I can turn it down. I was just wondering if you wanted to see the suit." Froglight fucked around with this message at 10:09 on Dec 6, 2013 |
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Dec 6, 2013 00:44
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quote:I'm staying with you for a while and hopefully we'll be having hours of conversation like this.  Hope you don't mind me saying op but as a huuuuuuuuge samos aren fan this is like catnip to my ears!
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Dec 6, 2013 01:06
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As Samus led him down the corridors and winding stairs down to the cargo hold to what she called the 'Suit's Room.' Jon was crafting an image of what he expected it to be. A bright immaculate white room, round maybe. With that massive famous orange suit standing tall on a platform. What he found himself standing in instead looked more like some disorganized mechanics' garage. The suit was lying on a massive table in the middle of the room, it's pieces apart and laid out roughly in the correct order. It was bigger than he imagined, so big compared to her. It wasn't as bright as he had imaged, up close he could see hundreds of tiny dents and scuffs. There were tool chests and rolling carts with what seemed to be suit parts and munitions. scattered around the large room. The largest wall was covered by dozens of different looking 3 foot cylinders. A stained green jumpsuit hung on a hook by the door, next to what looked like a child's blue wetsuit. There were strange metal pieces and machine parts that he didn't recognize everywhere. "You look a bit disappointed." She said as she walked over to the table and sat down next to the suit's helmet. "What? No not at all, it's just not what I expected." "What did you expect?" He laughed. "Well, whenever I would imagine you putting on the suit, I guess I had this image in my head of you standing on a pedestal with your arms stretched out, and a bunch of robot arms shooting out of the walls and throwing the suit onto you." She laughed and scoffed. "Yeah I wish! This thing is a complete pain in the rear end to put on, especially alone. The fastest I ever did it was twenty minutes, and I don't think I could ever do that again. You ever wake up late and have to get dressed in a hurry, and you end up sweating in your suit before you even leave your home, and then you just feel gross and uncomfortable for hours? I take my time now, getting into this things sweaty sucks." "I think I know what you mean. Is it uncomfortable?" "Not most of the time. It's climate controlled, but some planets are really hot and some are really cold. Some are covered in tiny geysers that spout massive clouds of corrosive acid everywhere all the time for no reason." "I tend to stay away from places like that. What are those?" He pointed to the cylinders on the wall. "Those are my barrels. The arm cannon there holds three barrels at a time, so I have to choose which ones to install before I head out." "And they all do something different?" "Pretty much." "What does that cool looking one there do?" "That would be my Ice Beam, when it works, which is when I can get the fuel for it." "An ice beam? For freezing people? That seems a bit silly." Samus smiled "It's actually designed to put out tank fires and the like at a distance, save people from burning in their blown up vehicles or crashed ships, but I guess you could use to freeze someone if you wanted to." "That's pretty cool. Where the hell did you get all of this stuff?" "You know that old man we were talking about?" Jon smiled, "Alright then, keep your secrets, I have plenty of time to crack you." Jon noticed what appeared to be an oversized olive drab colored canvas messenger bag laying in the corner of the room. "What's that?" "That's my purse. The suit doesn't exactly have pockets and sometimes I need to carry extra things; more barrels, munitions, one time I carried a person." Jon smiled at the idea of this giant sleek mech suit running with a stupid looking messenger bag full of rockets bouncing off it's hip. "I'm guessing not too many people have seen the suit like this." "Not too many." "Well thank you for showing it to me." "No problem. Let's go upstairs. We can eat and have a drink and I'll tell you about my last job." Froglight fucked around with this message at 10:14 on Dec 6, 2013 |
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Dec 6, 2013 02:10
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drat how long did this interview take if you don't mind my asking? Did you guys break for lunch at all or was it just a straight shot marathon session?
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Dec 6, 2013 02:55
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James Hardon posted:drat how long did this interview take if you don't mind my asking? Did you guys break for lunch at all or was it just a straight shot marathon session? This is Fiction, James Hard-on: none of this actually took place.
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Dec 6, 2013 04:47
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Have you ever thought about an MFA in fiction writing, OP?
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Dec 6, 2013 21:40
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Do you guys think the suit has some kind of fusion reactor powering it? Or does it pull it's power from a more advanced source? OP, can you ask her what it was like the first time she wore the suit? Did someone train her, or did she basically have to figure out all of it's functions and it's uses through trial and error? What if the suit is sentient to some degree? That would be wild.
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Dec 6, 2013 22:26
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systran posted:Do you guys think the suit has some kind of fusion reactor powering it? Or does it pull it's power from a more advanced source? OP, can you ask her what it was like the first time she wore the suit? Did someone train her, or did she basically have to figure out all of it's functions and it's uses through trial and error? I agree, OP can you make this happen? Also: I really think you're making some ballsy moves here. We're tossing out all the standard fiction clichés (arc, conflict, etc) and focusing solely on character via pages of dialogue. I feel like I'm reading Nicholson Baker without all the boring descriptions and "purple prose." You give us the meat; the words of Samus herself and almost nothing else. This is really brave writing. quote:With that massive famous orange suit standing tall on a platform. What he found himself standing in instead looked more like some disorganized mechanics' garage. Not sure if that has already been mentioned (too fixated on the interview to read most of the other posts in the thread...don't want to lose my place and focus as a reader), but loving nailed that simile.
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Dec 6, 2013 22:45
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I'm having a ton of fun with this and all of your responses have been absolutely making my day. Haomo, when I first posted this, for some reason I thought your response was sarcastic and I got all bummed out and abandoned the thread. It took me a week to read it again along with the other responses to realize that you actually liked it. So yeah I'm totally down to keep doing this. I made a blog post for non members and easier reading. http://samusiterview.tumblr.com/
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Dec 6, 2013 23:47
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Froglight posted:I'm having a ton of fun with this and all of your responses have been absolutely making my day. Oh hell to the yes!
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Dec 7, 2013 04:24
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Where does this fit in with the Metroid time line? I've only ever played metroid prime, but this is making me want to go back and play all the games, and I want to be able to stop and reread the interview at the correct point in the game progression so that I understand things a little better.
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Dec 7, 2013 05:48
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This is making me want to post my Starcraft novella.
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Dec 7, 2013 05:54
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BananaNutkins posted:This is making me want to post my Starcraft novella. Big Anime Fan Here posted:Oh hell to the yes!
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Dec 7, 2013 08:08
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Really digging the sociological themes and the exploration of the dynamic of power a journalist has over his subject. The way you deconstruct the collective 'myth' of Samus piece by piece down to her suit(!) while tracing the lines of the personal myths she lives by is downright contrapuntal. It's music.
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Dec 7, 2013 10:18
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Big Anime Fan Here posted:Oh hell to the yes! http://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3592554&perpage=40&pagenumber=1#post422860500
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Dec 7, 2013 10:57
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(This will be a chapter tonight. Doing this so I don't bitch out after work.)
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Dec 10, 2013 18:05
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Froglight posted:(This will be a chapter tonight. Doing this so I don't bitch out after work.) Looks like he bitched out, gang.
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Dec 11, 2013 16:39
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I really enjoyed the.interview, please come back
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Dec 11, 2013 18:48
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no they will not posted:Looks like he bitched out, gang. suck suuuuuuuuuck I am desperate for more Metroid fanfiction literally gagging for itover here
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Dec 11, 2013 23:11
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Mother Jalris sat at her desk in her office at the Larean Temple and Displaced Girl's Home, which was located on a remote station city that orbited a barely habitable and completely uninhabitated planet. It was midday and she was going through her daily reports from the Sisters. Girls being recommended for merits; concerns over the upcoming maturity ceremony for the girls coming of age; recommendations for lunch schedule revamps; new girls who were having trouble assimilating due to PTSD or just simple shyness. The Sisters had many concerns about many subjects, and they loved writing reports for her to read. Just as she was about to open a five page report from a particularly long winded sister on why the class schedule should be just one half hour longer, her assistant walked into her office. "Please tell me you have something urgent that requires my immediate attention and get me away from these reports." The assistant Sister, who normally laughed easily at even the worst of Mother Jalris's jokes, looked nervous. "There's a Major Hod- Hod'juh here to see you." A middle aged human wearing the officers' uniform of the Kerian Rebels stepped past the assistant and smiled. "It's Hodge, actually, no juh sound at the end." "Right." The assistant looked at Jalris wide eyed. "It's okay Nami, you can leave us." Nami turned around without a word and left, shutting the door behind her. Jalris motioned to the chair in front of her desk. "Have a seat Major. What do we thank for the luck of your visit today?" The pristine officer with the slicked back graying hair sat in the chair and akwardly scooted it forward by grabbing the front between his legs and thrusting forward. Jalris cringed inwardly and had a flashback to her years as a Sister. 'Ungraceful behavior, young girl.', she would have said. 'The Temple does not raise animals. That is for farmers to do.' "I suppose I'm a welcoming committee of sorts. I happened to be nearby and I was asked to come visit you. I'm sure you are aware of the Lareans new allegiance to the Kerian State?" "I believe I may have heard. We are a long way from the homeworld, Major, and we don't concern ourselves with much beyond our immediate duties." "I couldn't agree with you more Sister-" "Mother." "I'm sorry?" "My title is Mother, I would be worried to be this old and still a Sister." The major laughed, "My apologies, Mother. I was just saying that I agree with you. Immediate duties, I like that. I admire the work you do here, caring for these young girls. How many girls do you ladies have here?" "We have three hundred girls, but we are soon to expand and-" "How many of those girls are fifteen currently?" "Some twenty-three are on the eve of maturity, why do you ask this?" "Well, I said I was here to welcome you, and I am. You should be proud of your people for finally finding the courage to fight. You are a Kerian now, as all we who fight are; and those girls, being under the protection of Laria, are now citizens of the Kerian State." Jalris's entire body tensed visibly. "I do not know what you think you are about to say, but I can tell you no. This is preposterous." The Major continued his sentence as though he had never been interrupted. "-And being citizens of the Kerian State they are afforded all rights and privellages, and all duties, of a citizen." "For god's sake Major, these girls are war orphans, have they not suffered enough?" "I don't speak of suffering I just-" "Some of their families were vaporized by your bombs! And Now you want to conscript them!?" "I don't want to conscript them. Being Kerian citizens, when they turn sixteen they will report to the nearest Kerian military command, which will be me from now on, in my ship at the docks until I get set up with a proper office here." Jalris reached for the words. Her whole world was spinning out of control. She wanted to vomit. "Some of their fathers died fighting for the Confederacy." "And now they will be given the chance to atone for that." "I cannot believe you just said that." "Perhaps that was a poor choice of words. What I mean to say is that these girls, wherever they came from, are being welcomed with open arms into our great society." "You can't do this." The Major leaned back and took a deep breath. "This isn't a bad thing, Mother. We know the value of a temple education, and all of your girls will have a chance to be commissioned as officers in their choice of military branches. They will be pilots, and doctors, and nurses, and leaders. They will have countless opportunities to serve and advance; to see the galaxy, raise families. It's only for six years anyway, after that they will be free and ready to face any challenge the universe throws at them." Jalris closed her eyes and held the bridge of her nose, nearly shaking with rage. "We did not come here to raise soldiers for you and your butchers and your failed stagnant little rebellion! This will not happen, this is not over!" The Major shot up out of his chair in anger, but quickly restrained himself. "It's over for me. You of course have the right to appeal this decision and petition the courts, you are a Kerian after all." The Major straightened his uniform. "I will be back tomorrow in the afternoon to talk to the girls. Tell them what you like." He turned around and walked toward the door. Major Hodge stopped at the door and turned around. "I'm sorry you see things this way. Have a pleasant day, Sister." He walked out into the hallway shutting the door behind him. "Mother." Jalris said quietly. "My title is Mother."
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Dec 12, 2013 04:45
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Froglight posted:Mother Jalris sat at her desk in her office at the Larean Temple and Displaced Girl's Home, which was located on a remote station city that orbited a barely habitable and completely uninhabitated planet. It was midday and she was going through her daily reports from the Sisters. Girls being recommended for merits; concerns over the upcoming maturity ceremony for the girls coming of age; recommendations for lunch schedule revamps; new girls who were having trouble assimilating due to PTSD or just simple shyness. The Sisters had many concerns about many subjects, and they loved writing reports for her to read. Yaaaaaaaayyy do more
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Dec 12, 2013 15:22
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Samus was on a deserted street, in the late evening, just before curfew. She was dressed in her temple robes. She looked around to make sure nobody was watching and then ran up to a dingy tenement door and rapped seven times quickly, hesitated, and then hit the door hard one more time. A skinny teenager with sunken features and dirty blonde hair opened the door. "What are you doing here, Sami? There's no package today, and it's like fifteen minutes until your curfew." "I just came to visit, gently caress the curfew Adam. For godssakes let me in I have to pee." "A-Alright whatever, come on in. Did anyone see you?" Samus slid past him into the dingy hallway. "Who knows? You would get in more trouble than I would if they had." Adam sighed and followed her as she led the way to the basement barroom where six shady looking men between the ages of 16 and 45 played cards at a makeshift round wooden table. Samus plopped down in what had been Adams chair and smiled at the group. "What's up boys?" The group collectively groaned and one of the older boys said, "What are you doing here so late, won't the nuns beat your rear end with a stick if they find out?" Another boy chimed in. "Haven't you heard? Sami could give a gently caress. She's getting drafted next month." "With the Kerians? drat Sami that sucks. What are you gonna do?" Samus shrugged, "Go I guess. Not much else to do. Got a little cash saved up but not enough to get off this poo poo-heap station. Maybe it won't suck so bad. The pay is better than working with you losers." "Well it was nice knowing you. Maybe we can send you contraband when you're training and get you in trouble or something. For old times sake." "I can't picture you as a grunt." Adam said pulling up and extra chair for himself. "Not gonna be a grunt." Samus replied. "Gonna be an officer." Feigned and sarcastic gasps of astonishment and respect came from the group. "That's right you scummy rear end dirt bags, it's Lieutenant Aran from now on. I'm a proper woman and a proud officer of the Kerian State, with status and position, so suck it." "You're a war orphan, did your father fight for the Kerians or the Confederacy?" a fourth boy asked. "I never told you about what happened with my father?" A few in the group shook their heads, one said "No." and the rest seemed uninterested. "Really? It's a pretty cool story." Samus sat up straight and got into story telling mode. "Fourteen years ago there was a huge battle between two giant destroyers in space above a little populated planet called Largo. The massive battleships had been trading missles for hours, with each ship managing to shoot down everyone of it's opponents missles. The battle was a complete stalemate, but to the men and women who flew the starfighters, that couldn't matter less. They were having their own war. On the outskirts of the battle, where the two destroyers and their cloud of explosions could just barely be seen; two ace pilots were holding a bloody grudge match. They had faced each other before. They were two squadron leaders who had each lost their men at the hands of the other. They had both decided that this would be where they settled their score, so they shot off far from the battle, far from any interlopers, and began their dance." The young boy who had asked about her father seemed mesmerized, and a few of the others were peeking at her over their cards, trying to act like they weren't listening as they played. "Sid! It's your turn to show your hand!" "Sorry, I didn't hear you." "Anyway", Samus said loudly, "The Kerian was flying in one of those old re-fitted Spectres that they like to use, and the Fed was flying in his Shark. The Kerian is getting the worst of it and decides to make for the planet's atmosphere and into it's sky; where, as we all know, the Spectre has a clear advantage. I mean, the Spectre was designed for interplanetary combat and the Shark is a straight up space fighter with limited glide capabilities. It would be insane for the Shark to follow the Spectre there, but that's just what he did. Now I don't know if this Shark pilot was insane, amazingly cocky, or maybe even suicidal; but I do know this: That Spectre cut him out of the sky without mercy and sent him crashing down onto that dreary little planet's surface, right on top of a half retarded farmhand who happened to be the father of the future Kerian Lieutenant you once affectionately knew as 'Sami'. The End!" "Real loving cute Samus." Samus laughed, "I told you idiots a hundred times I don't know who my father was! You're all so drat stupid!" Adam let out a long frustrated sigh, "I thought you had to pee." "Oh yeah." Samus replied, "I don't know why I said that. I don't have to pee. What are we playing?" Froglight fucked around with this message at 09:14 on Aug 30, 2014 |
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Dec 13, 2013 05:02
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Imagining Samus hold her pee in with her vagina is a little pornographic, but I dig it.
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Dec 13, 2013 17:18
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You are a talented writer
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Dec 13, 2013 20:36
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Samus and Jon sat back down at the dinner table in the dining room where they had their first brief interview. Jon was tired after being woken up after a couple hours sleep, but he sure as hell wasn't going to turn down her offer to see the suit, and there was no way he was going to miss any opportunity to listen to her talk. "So I just recently got back from my last job, right when I responded to your message. The Confederacy had hired me to hopefully end a stalemate on a tiny iceball planet that I probably shouldn't name. It was one of those tiny rocks that didn't even have a name before the war, but now it's a semi-important little territory for listening posts and fuel stations. It was a tiny thing, the smallest planetoid I've ever set foot on, and the situation was that there were two company sized units on opposite mountain ranges fifteen miles apart. Both units only mission was to wipe the enemy presence off the planet, but little progress had been reported from either side for months." "Both bases had giant listening posts and giant listening post jammers. So basically nothing was being gained for either sides money. It wasn't such an important listening post that the Confederacy would spend five million to send another company to reinforce the post and win the planetoid for sure, but it seemed that hiring me for one million was a tactical enough decision." "I touched down on that hellish snowscape and introduced myself to the poor young officer in charge, and had his men help me unload my suit from my ship. That night I had dinner with the officers and NCO's of the unit, and it didn't take me long to learn what was actually happening there. No progress was being made because the units weren't even fighting. Both units were so tired, and this was such a lovely post, that it didn't take much communication before they both decided that there was no reason for anybody to die on this sub-moon ice cube." "So they just weren't doing anything?" Jon asked. "At first there was the kind of action you would expect to be going on in a place like that; half-hearted patrols, brief shooting encounters, maybe one dead a month on either side. Eventually the Kerian commander hacked the Confederates comms, and they started talking. After that all patrols were meticulously coordinated to never meet, and occasional mortar shots and missle batteries were fired over and around the enemy to satisfy the higher ups who were lightyears away." "But it was now your job to break that up?" "I guess it was, but gently caress that. These guys actually had a good thing going on. Ironically that inhospitable frozen little battlefield was probably one of the safest and most peaceful places in the galaxy. " "So what did you do." "I told them I thought their set-up was cool, and I had no intention of loving things up for them. I spent two months living in big heated pods with the company, drinking and playing cards and bullshitting. I eventually suited up just to entertain them. I blew up an adjacent mountain with them for fun one day. We came up with a game where I would shoot missiles into the air and they would try to shoot them down with their rifles. Eventually a Kerian sniper fifteen miles away hit my missile before anyone else did, and that started a game between the two camps. Each camp would shoot a missile straight up into the air on the hour every hour, and the first camp to shoot down the other's missile would score a point. When I left the score was three hundred forty six to two hundred and twenty two. We sucked." "So what wound up happening?" "Well after two months I billed the confederacy for all the missiles I shot into the air and reported that I had failed to win the battle and accepted my half payment of half a million credits. It was a fun and relaxing two months." Jon laughed, "That's amazing. Good to know where my tax credits are going." Samus laughed, "I'll buy you dinner at the fuel stop to make it up to you. This is all off the record by the way, don't wanna get those guys in trouble." "Whoa." Jon replied, "You can't just say something's off the record after you've said it. You have to say it before." "Says who?" "Says two thousand years of journalism. That's the common rule." "Well drat. You can report this if you want to, but if the higher ups ever get word of what's going on there both of those units would be pulled and sent to the most dangerous fronts in the galaxy, and replaced by two more units who are more willing to kill each over a little iceball at the edge of the galaxy. And then wouldn't you feel like a total dick?" Jon sighed, "Fine then, off the record." Samus smiled, "I guess not all journalists are scumbags after all." Froglight fucked around with this message at 10:18 on Dec 14, 2013 |
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Dec 13, 2013 23:46
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I watched Die Hard tonight. I also drank. I'm sorry. --------------------------------- "What's so funny?" Ridley asked Samus gathered all the blood in her mouth and spat it onto the ground, and answered. "I'm just pondering. Eventually I'm going to get a pistol off of one of these guards. I'm gonna break these bonds, kill these goons, and get a gun; then I'm gonna have to decide where to shoot you." "Is that so?" "Oh yeah. I'm not a doctor, or even a medic, but I've learned a lot about the human body and how it reacts to bullets being put in it." Samus focused her black and swollen eyes on the silent guard in the corner. "Hey goon. How are you doing today? When is your shift over? Got a family? What kinda gun is that? It's a quarter-ball'er isn't it? No need to answer, I know it is. That's a good gun. That's the gun I'm gonna kill you with. It's on your hip, but it's basically already my gun. We've been talking, and she's decided to leave you for me. No hard feelings, I hope." Ridley sat down and laughed. "You really are just a complete and utter mental, aren't you?" Samus used her cuffed hands to scratch an itch on her head. "Now I could shoot you in the head, kill you clean and simple, but that's no fun. I could hit you in the chest, try to collapse your lung; that's a pretty painful and undignified way to die, but I might accidentally hit your heart or a great vessel, and give you a quick death; so that's a no. The best place to shoot someone if they're a real rear end in a top hat is the gut. Now the gut is anatomically divided into four quadrants, and those four medical quadrants happen to make decent target areas, so I have to choose one of those." "Oh? and which one will you choose?" Ridley said, amused. "Well that's the big decision, isn't it?" Samus said, earnestly. "When I eventually make my escape I'm going to have to shoot you and then haul rear end out of here; My main focus will be on finding a ship and getting it past the station's defenses. Dealing with you will be a small, but personal part of my escape, so I'll want to inflict the maximum amount of suffering while still knowing that you will die. So let's see. This is all from your perspective, not mine, by the way." "First we have the upper right quadrant. I could bust your liver and know that you would scream and bleed bile for a few minutes until you die. Upper right has the advantage of being sure to kill you, so long as I hit the liver. The liver bleeds like it's its' job. We'll call the upper right 'Old Reliable.' . Then we have the upper left. That's the stomach. I could hit you there and you would leak digestive acids; now that's the most painful, and the pain would last for a long time, half an hour at least; and it will probably kill you, but it's not guaranteed to kill you. We'll call the upper left 'Optimism'. Our clockwise journey has now taken us to the lower left quadrant, which is basically just a big pile of intestines. I could put a clip into that area and have no guarantee that you would die or even suffer properly. We'll call the lower left 'Non Contender'. Finally we have the lower right. Now the lower right is basically the lower left with the addition of a fat stretch of large intestines, which means I could make you leak poo poo into your body cavity until you die from the infection, but I still have no guarantee that you will die from that. We'll call the lower right 'Poetic Justice'." Ridley laughed. "It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this. Have you put as much thought into how you will steal a ship and get out of here?" "Naw. I prefer to let things like that happen organically." Froglight fucked around with this message at 12:46 on Dec 14, 2013 |
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Dec 14, 2013 12:33
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Jon was summoned once more by the overly loud loudspeaker after only two more hours of sleep. His hair was a mess, he hadn't shaved or showered. He sleepily lumbered up to the cockpit where a well-rested and immaculate Samus sat at the ships controls. "We're here." Samus said, not looking up from her computer screen. Jon looked out the front windows and saw the space station, tiny in the distance, still probably a thousand or more kilometers away. There were about twenty seconds of silence before Jon looked down and saw that Samus was reading the news on her ship screen computer. "Are we going to dock?" He asked. "Not yet." She said, still reading. "I thought we would get here right on time, but we're a bit early. We have to wait another hour for the docking crew shift change. I got a guy that lets me in." "Oh." Jon said, taking a seat in the co-pilots chair. "What would happen if we just flew up now and respectfully and legally asked permission to dock at this tiny middle of nowhere fuel station?" Samus looked up from her article and pointed at the speck of the station in the black. "See those guns there on the top side of the station?" Jon squinted. "No, not at all." Samus went back to reading her article. "Yeah well, they're there. Trust me." Jon yawned. "I'm surprised a little truck stop like this would have guns." Samus took a sip from a water bottle and screwed the cap back on. "Everything these days has guns, Jon. Whether or not you see them." "Oh." Jon scratched the stubble on his cheek. He hadn't been getting much sleep. Everytime he finally layed down in bed and fell asleep, that stupidly loud loudspeaker would boom and scare him awake. Samus would have something to tell him or something to show him, and most of the time it was complete nonsense. Complete babble that even the most talented journalist couldn't work into her story. After she woke him up to show him the suit, and then later to tell him about her mission on Largo, he was excited to be woken up by her voice. Who needs sleep when you are being fed the story that will make your career? Except after those two conversations, the quality of her conversations had begun to go downhill. Actually, Jon would say they plummeted straight down a cliff. The next time she woke him up she wanted to tell him all about how important it was to drink a big glass of water and half a glass of milk between each shot of Larean Vodka, but if you were drinking Larean Gourd Liquor, you should just leave an open dish of water with two drops of ship fuel in it at your table, and you won't have any sort of hangover. 'I know it sounds stupid.' She said. After that, she woke him up just to grill him on the details of his own life. She asked him where he grew up, where he went to school. She asked him why he wore glasses, why he wore his hair so short and neat. She asked him if he knew how to use any kind of firearm. She woke him up after an hour of sleep, asked him those questions and then sent him back to bed. Then, an hour and a half later she woke him again and asked him to write her, quickly, a detailed list of everything he had brought on board her ship, down to the brand of his underwear. This went on an on, and Jon felt like he was going crazy. Now he looked over to Samus and said. "If we have an hour I think I'll go take a shower and get some coffee." "Coffee yes, shower no." She said, still reading. "What, why?" "Because, you look good for where we're going now." "I look like a Q-head junkie." He said. "Exactly, and a junkie is alot more safe where we're going than an Class-A school educated journalist. I can protect a junkie. I have clothes for you, and you'll have to leave the glasses behind, you don't actually need them, do you?" "No." he said. "I don't." Froglight fucked around with this message at 03:09 on Dec 23, 2013 |
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Dec 23, 2013 02:13
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