ShotokanXL
Shoshinsha.
These are the first few sections of a manuscript I'm working on. This is what I call V.4 of the story. I'm currently on V.5, which includes some rewrites of what you're about to read, but I would appreciate feedback on the general tone and style of the story and narrative presented below.
I apologise if it's a bit long for a first critique request (I know the recommended word count in the guidelines says between 800-1200, but I hope it's not too far over to warrant getting pulled!)
I appreciate you taking your time to read it and look forward to your feedback. Thanks.
#
The Hadron Crater, Franco-Swiss border, Friday 31 October 2059 23:01 hours.
The Pegasus VI unmanned aerial vehicle streaked over the canopy of the twisted, alien-looking forest that filled the majority of the twenty-mile-wide Hadron Crater, skimming the densely packed treetops at a height of fifteen feet. The single turbofan engine that thrummed at the rear of the craft’s sleek fuselage propelled it steadily towards its destination: the perpetually churning maelstrom of dust and cloud that shrouded the anomaly which lay at the centre of the jungle. The warped foliage that sped by in a blur beneath the UAV was lit only by the large, full moon that hung in the near-midnight sky, turning the normally lush, vibrant green below to a pale grey and casting the already eerie landscape in a ghostly pallor.
In the dark sky above the torrent of debris that swirled in the middle of the crater like a titanic dust devil, ominous-looking clouds gathered in a slowly rotating whirlpool pattern. Bright, spectral-green light began to flicker and flash from within the growing hurricane, sporadically punctuating the forest below with bursts of other-worldly illumination.
Rift Containment Force UAV Ops, Hadron Command, Franco-Swiss border, Friday 31 October 2059 23:05 hours.
‘A Tesla storm’s forming, sir,’ the drone operator said as he looked at his commanding officer. The live feed from the Pegasus VI UAV showed the bloated, lightning-filled clouds that were churning above the dust storm.
Colonel Reno, of the 1st Marine Infantry Parachute Regiment - 2e Compagnie, examined the enhanced images on the operator’s three glowing display screens. He was a tall, serious-faced man in his forties with an impressive beak of a nose that had earned him the moniker of L’aigle amongst the soldiers of the base. Normally the Hadron base commander wouldn’t personally oversee such a minor operation but, due to the importance of the civilians involved, his R.C.F superiors in New Geneva had deemed it important enough for him to be there.
The R.C.F. was a multi-national, combined paramilitary organisation that had been formed after the world’s governments agreed that the inexplicable fissure in space that lay at the centre of the Hadron Crater posed a continued global threat. As such, it drew personnel from the varied branches of the world’s fighting forces and its primary mission was to keep the threat of the hostiles that emerged from the Rift contained within the twenty-mile-wide basin.
After years of bloody fighting which, despite humanity’s continually evolving weaponry, only ever ended in deadlock, the R.C.F had drawn inspiration from Roman Britain of AD 122 and constructed a titanic 100 foot-high barrier around the entire sixty-three mile circumference of the crater. The gigantic edifice, commonly referred to as Un Ècran, had become far more than just a shield to act as a last line of defence - it had grown to be a symbol of defiance and hope to a beleaguered world.
As the colonel watched the gathering storm, he contemplatively rubbed his chin. ‘An unexpected bonus.’ His deep, baritone voice resonated with a strong French accent, but he spoke in English for the benefit of the two other observers.
Michael Willis, a representative from Mordecai Universal Technologies, responded apprehensively. ‘What exactly do you mean by “bonus”, colonel?’
Before the base commander could answer, Sarah Pearson – an expensively suited observer from the Institute – responded. ‘The R.C.F has standing orders to investigate any and all Tesla storm activity as and when it occurs. The energy unleashed during the storms remains an enigma to us and obtaining information on it is a priority.’
Michael looked at the dark-haired, pale-skinned Institute woman. Her presence made him feel ill at ease and he wished he had been able to think of a reason for her to not be in the room with them. ‘That drone is carrying one-of-a-kind prototype equipment,’ he said. ‘If anything happens to it, it will set our research back a year at least. Not to mention the financial cost.’
‘The fact that it has experimental sensors is all the more reason to get it as close to the storm as possible,’ replied Sarah.
‘Colonel!’ Michael beseeched.
There was a brief pause before the commander spoke to the drone operator.
‘Proceed.’
‘Yes sir.’
The man from M.U.T frowned and folded his arms, clearly displeased, but he knew any further protests would fall on deaf ears.
#
As the UAV continued on its course towards the Rift, the fledgling Tesla storm grew in intensity. A howling wind picked up, causing the jungle canopy beneath to sway and rustle as if gargantuan behemoths were wandering amongst the trees. The lightning that had been gathering within the broiling clouds reached critical levels and broke containment to lash out in whips of shimmering, green plasma-like energy that lanced down at the twisted foliage below.
The drone entered the periphery of the storm and was immediately struck by turbulence, causing the sleek vehicle to shudder as its guidance systems fought to keep it on course.
#
Within the command centre, Michael Willis nervously chewed a nail as he watched the fury of the storm unleash on the view screens. His female counterpart from the Institute examined a series of graphs and readouts that were being fed back to a monitor and glanced at him.
‘Your prototype seems to be working well. Some very interesting readings coming through here,’ she said.
Michael opened his mouth to reply but froze when the UAV monitors flared a brilliant, intense green that caused the operator to shield his eyes. Then they went blank and displayed the words he had feared:
SIGNAL LOST
Colonel Reno leaned forward, placing his callused hands on the back of the drone operator’s chair. ‘Status?’
The pilot quickly checked the controls before leaning back in his seat and removing his headset. ‘It’s gone, sir. Struck by lightning, I think.’
The commander lowered his head and sighed. ‘Merde.’
Michael wasn’t as restrained.
‘God damn it!’ he exclaimed loudly.
Sarah strode over to him and grabbed him by the arm of his gray suit jacket. ‘Calm yourself!’ she whispered harshly. ‘Remember where you are!’
Her words were enough to silence any further outbursts and Michael lifted his hands to clutch at his head in consternation as he began to pace up-and-down, gesticulating and muttering to himself.
‘Sir?’ The operator leaned forward as he noticed a signal showing on the drone’s control systems.
‘What is it?’ Colonel Reno craned his neck to look at what had caught the pilot’s attention.
‘I’m getting an active transponder signal from the Pegasus.’ He quickly checked the information that was being fed back, correlating the coordinates with a map grid he put up on one of his screens.
‘What?’ Michael eagerly approached the control station. ‘Does that mean the drone’s still active?’
‘No,’ said the colonel. ‘The UAV is downed, but we have a fix on its last location.’ He pointed to the pulsing circle on the pilot’s screen.
‘So what are you waiting for? Send some people to go and get it!’
Colonel Reno stood up straight and fixed a stern expression on the rep. ‘You are telling me what to do now, Mr Willis?’
Michael paled slightly under the base commander’s glare, but stood his ground. He ran a hand through his dark-brown, sweat-damped hair and straightened the Jules Verne themed tie his wife had given him on his last birthday. ‘No, of course not, colonel, but salvaging the equipment on that drone as soon as possible is vital to our on-going efforts to finding a way to understand and penetrate the phenomenon surrounding the Rift. I strongly suggest that you send a team to retrieve it. I’m sure the Institute would concur?’ He looked at Sarah for affirmation.
The dark-haired woman nodded in agreement. ‘He’s right, you must send a team.’
The colonel looked at each of them in turn. He didn’t like the feeling that he was being given orders by civilians, but he knew that they were right. Anything that could help unravel the mystery at the centre of the Hadron Crater would be deemed a priority by R.C.F command in New Geneva. Even over the lives of the men and women under him.
‘Very well,’ he said.
#
I apologise if it's a bit long for a first critique request (I know the recommended word count in the guidelines says between 800-1200, but I hope it's not too far over to warrant getting pulled!)
I appreciate you taking your time to read it and look forward to your feedback. Thanks.
#
The Hadron Crater, Franco-Swiss border, Friday 31 October 2059 23:01 hours.
The Pegasus VI unmanned aerial vehicle streaked over the canopy of the twisted, alien-looking forest that filled the majority of the twenty-mile-wide Hadron Crater, skimming the densely packed treetops at a height of fifteen feet. The single turbofan engine that thrummed at the rear of the craft’s sleek fuselage propelled it steadily towards its destination: the perpetually churning maelstrom of dust and cloud that shrouded the anomaly which lay at the centre of the jungle. The warped foliage that sped by in a blur beneath the UAV was lit only by the large, full moon that hung in the near-midnight sky, turning the normally lush, vibrant green below to a pale grey and casting the already eerie landscape in a ghostly pallor.
In the dark sky above the torrent of debris that swirled in the middle of the crater like a titanic dust devil, ominous-looking clouds gathered in a slowly rotating whirlpool pattern. Bright, spectral-green light began to flicker and flash from within the growing hurricane, sporadically punctuating the forest below with bursts of other-worldly illumination.
Rift Containment Force UAV Ops, Hadron Command, Franco-Swiss border, Friday 31 October 2059 23:05 hours.
‘A Tesla storm’s forming, sir,’ the drone operator said as he looked at his commanding officer. The live feed from the Pegasus VI UAV showed the bloated, lightning-filled clouds that were churning above the dust storm.
Colonel Reno, of the 1st Marine Infantry Parachute Regiment - 2e Compagnie, examined the enhanced images on the operator’s three glowing display screens. He was a tall, serious-faced man in his forties with an impressive beak of a nose that had earned him the moniker of L’aigle amongst the soldiers of the base. Normally the Hadron base commander wouldn’t personally oversee such a minor operation but, due to the importance of the civilians involved, his R.C.F superiors in New Geneva had deemed it important enough for him to be there.
The R.C.F. was a multi-national, combined paramilitary organisation that had been formed after the world’s governments agreed that the inexplicable fissure in space that lay at the centre of the Hadron Crater posed a continued global threat. As such, it drew personnel from the varied branches of the world’s fighting forces and its primary mission was to keep the threat of the hostiles that emerged from the Rift contained within the twenty-mile-wide basin.
After years of bloody fighting which, despite humanity’s continually evolving weaponry, only ever ended in deadlock, the R.C.F had drawn inspiration from Roman Britain of AD 122 and constructed a titanic 100 foot-high barrier around the entire sixty-three mile circumference of the crater. The gigantic edifice, commonly referred to as Un Ècran, had become far more than just a shield to act as a last line of defence - it had grown to be a symbol of defiance and hope to a beleaguered world.
As the colonel watched the gathering storm, he contemplatively rubbed his chin. ‘An unexpected bonus.’ His deep, baritone voice resonated with a strong French accent, but he spoke in English for the benefit of the two other observers.
Michael Willis, a representative from Mordecai Universal Technologies, responded apprehensively. ‘What exactly do you mean by “bonus”, colonel?’
Before the base commander could answer, Sarah Pearson – an expensively suited observer from the Institute – responded. ‘The R.C.F has standing orders to investigate any and all Tesla storm activity as and when it occurs. The energy unleashed during the storms remains an enigma to us and obtaining information on it is a priority.’
Michael looked at the dark-haired, pale-skinned Institute woman. Her presence made him feel ill at ease and he wished he had been able to think of a reason for her to not be in the room with them. ‘That drone is carrying one-of-a-kind prototype equipment,’ he said. ‘If anything happens to it, it will set our research back a year at least. Not to mention the financial cost.’
‘The fact that it has experimental sensors is all the more reason to get it as close to the storm as possible,’ replied Sarah.
‘Colonel!’ Michael beseeched.
There was a brief pause before the commander spoke to the drone operator.
‘Proceed.’
‘Yes sir.’
The man from M.U.T frowned and folded his arms, clearly displeased, but he knew any further protests would fall on deaf ears.
#
As the UAV continued on its course towards the Rift, the fledgling Tesla storm grew in intensity. A howling wind picked up, causing the jungle canopy beneath to sway and rustle as if gargantuan behemoths were wandering amongst the trees. The lightning that had been gathering within the broiling clouds reached critical levels and broke containment to lash out in whips of shimmering, green plasma-like energy that lanced down at the twisted foliage below.
The drone entered the periphery of the storm and was immediately struck by turbulence, causing the sleek vehicle to shudder as its guidance systems fought to keep it on course.
#
Within the command centre, Michael Willis nervously chewed a nail as he watched the fury of the storm unleash on the view screens. His female counterpart from the Institute examined a series of graphs and readouts that were being fed back to a monitor and glanced at him.
‘Your prototype seems to be working well. Some very interesting readings coming through here,’ she said.
Michael opened his mouth to reply but froze when the UAV monitors flared a brilliant, intense green that caused the operator to shield his eyes. Then they went blank and displayed the words he had feared:
SIGNAL LOST
Colonel Reno leaned forward, placing his callused hands on the back of the drone operator’s chair. ‘Status?’
The pilot quickly checked the controls before leaning back in his seat and removing his headset. ‘It’s gone, sir. Struck by lightning, I think.’
The commander lowered his head and sighed. ‘Merde.’
Michael wasn’t as restrained.
‘God damn it!’ he exclaimed loudly.
Sarah strode over to him and grabbed him by the arm of his gray suit jacket. ‘Calm yourself!’ she whispered harshly. ‘Remember where you are!’
Her words were enough to silence any further outbursts and Michael lifted his hands to clutch at his head in consternation as he began to pace up-and-down, gesticulating and muttering to himself.
‘Sir?’ The operator leaned forward as he noticed a signal showing on the drone’s control systems.
‘What is it?’ Colonel Reno craned his neck to look at what had caught the pilot’s attention.
‘I’m getting an active transponder signal from the Pegasus.’ He quickly checked the information that was being fed back, correlating the coordinates with a map grid he put up on one of his screens.
‘What?’ Michael eagerly approached the control station. ‘Does that mean the drone’s still active?’
‘No,’ said the colonel. ‘The UAV is downed, but we have a fix on its last location.’ He pointed to the pulsing circle on the pilot’s screen.
‘So what are you waiting for? Send some people to go and get it!’
Colonel Reno stood up straight and fixed a stern expression on the rep. ‘You are telling me what to do now, Mr Willis?’
Michael paled slightly under the base commander’s glare, but stood his ground. He ran a hand through his dark-brown, sweat-damped hair and straightened the Jules Verne themed tie his wife had given him on his last birthday. ‘No, of course not, colonel, but salvaging the equipment on that drone as soon as possible is vital to our on-going efforts to finding a way to understand and penetrate the phenomenon surrounding the Rift. I strongly suggest that you send a team to retrieve it. I’m sure the Institute would concur?’ He looked at Sarah for affirmation.
The dark-haired woman nodded in agreement. ‘He’s right, you must send a team.’
The colonel looked at each of them in turn. He didn’t like the feeling that he was being given orders by civilians, but he knew that they were right. Anything that could help unravel the mystery at the centre of the Hadron Crater would be deemed a priority by R.C.F command in New Geneva. Even over the lives of the men and women under him.
‘Very well,’ he said.
#
