Ah in a period of work avoidance i have created a bit of a plot, the storyline is all i have done so far, here is some of the stuff, i need feedback from other people on this one. i have very little writing ability and need to know if i should find another hobby.
the intro to one char
"He pinched me!" Squealed Emily, "<PN>, stop pestering your sister" Said your mother in a tired voice, you had been round the shops all day and were getting very bored, your parents had even refused to get you that new computer game. It's all soo unfair.....
Suddenly you are kicked in the small of your back, throwing you forward in the midst of a painfuly bright white flare, then it all goes dark...
You drift to and from conciousness over the next two weeks, occasioanly hearing snatches of conversations between white garbed people,
"..amputate the leg and the arm as well"
"He's lost too much plasma already..."
"..nd to the family?.... ****...."
You finaly wake in a bed, with a soft pillow behind your head, the celing is white and boring, you try to turn your head but you can't! You start to panic and try to struggle when a nurse arrives exclaiming, "You're awake! Don't worry dear the doctor is on the way now"
"Where's my mummy" you demand, The nurse doesn't reply chattering innanely at you until the doctor arrives. "Ah so your awake, we were worrying for a bit there" said the doctor grinning at you in a nice way. "Don't worry if you can't feel your legs, you hurt your neck and we are still trying to fix it"
"Where's my mummy" You demand again, the doctor looks away,"Where's my mommy" You sob, as the nurse moves toward you with a needle...
****, after 10 years you'd expect the memory to fade, or the pain to go away.
You roll out of your bed and stumble over to your kitchen unit, ordering a coffee and snack from the computer, the memory of when your mother and sister were killed by the same terrorist bomb that left you a cripple for years refuses to fade no matter how long you spend with the counsellors.
"Terroists", the right word for them you snort as you sip at the hot black coffee, in the intervening years the "freedom movement" had gone legal, become respectable, finaly becoming a major politcial party on your home station. The bomb had been planted in a cofee house where the alliance naval officers normaly waited for embarkation, it killed 30 people depressuring a section of the hull and crippling you until you could be given the nanonic implants that keep you alive today.
They said it is perfectly natural for a boy of 10 to lock it in his memory, but you oftern wish you could just forget it all. Your dad did his best, but he was broken after your mothers death, and never quite recovered till his death a few years ago.
You walk over to the Holo cube, there's no way you'll get back to sleep now. Ironicaly, your parents were both insured by thier employers, which left you with a large and sufficent trust fund. Today's the day you finaly get full access to it on your 21st Birthday. You know what your gonna do with it too.
Get a shuttle and get away from this damn station, find somewhere that you can start a new life away from the "Fredom Movement", away from the wars that sporadicaly rock the galaxy, f**k it, just get the hell away from here...
Post battle roundup/start for another char
Your nanonic implants had cut off the pain nerves in what unitll a few minutes ago had been your leg, but is now a mangled lump of meat. The warhead had been powerful enough to break through the <PSN>'s armor, sending shrapnel from exploding consoles in a fatal shower of metal and hardened plastic.
You carefuly guide the <PSN> back into port, a duty that normaly is given to your navigator, who is now splattered over the bulkheads by the same fragment that destroyed your leg. You'd live at least, even if it did mean a week in the regen tanks for the leg to grow back.
"Recieving hail from the station" Chimes the computer through the air tainted by buring eqiptment and clouded by the anti inflamatory agent that had saved your lives.
"Put it through" you reply, tired beyond belief
"You'll excuse me for making this brief", scowled admiral Benson, "but we took a few hits in the habitaion zones and some of the damn civillians weren't wearing thier suits. There were several hundred people in there."
"We have substantila causlties here sir", you reply, "If you have any medical crews free they would be apreciated."
The admiral looks down and responds in a subdued tone "thier all yours, we aren't pulling anyone out of there that a doctor can help, Benson out"
As you are carried to sickbay to have the remains of your leg removed and start growing the new one you see the dammage done to <PSN>'s corridors, you have to detour round a section that was opened to space.
When you make it to sick bay you realise that it wasn't just then bridge crew that took casualties. The doctor is operating on a crewman, you don't recognise the blood stained face, it looks like the entire chest cavity was removed by something very blunt.
As you collapse onto the bed you remove the blocks on your nerves, and the pain knocks you into merciful unconciousness, ending the screams of the other injured.
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Beware of monkeys bearing pins,
Coz the grenade is never far behind