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Thread: Starstorm: Adventures in Space (PG-14) - Original Sci-fi Story

  1. #1

    Default Starstorm: Adventures in Space (PG-14) - Original Sci-fi Story

    I figured I may as well post this here as well, seeing as this is my latest project and will probably be updated a heck of a lot more than the actual pokemon one. So here we go!

    Starstorm
    Adventures in Space


    Prologue: First Contact

    Just outside of the Violite System, 2587

    In the vast and spacious vacuum that is outer space, a lone spaceship travelled through the empty darkness like a metal leaf floating down a black stream. The ship was impressive for its size, a small vessel designed only to carry a single being. The metal coat had seen better days, and although the sturdy substance would never give way, faint signs of rust were beginning to show on its weathered edges. This rust did nothing but improve the presence of the ship - it emanated the radiance of an experienced vessel with more than a fair share of danger below its metal belt. And painted on the underside of the ship were the words: the SS FLIEGON-SCHWEIN.

    The insides of the ship were nothing like that of its outward appearance. The ship had only four rooms: a small control room, a cosy, sophisticated living room, a compact bedroom and a large supply room that doubled as a privy - even spacemen have to go sometimes. And the spaceman in question was a surprising small thing, so much so that if you saw him at the controls of such an impressive vehicle, you would fall of off your little seat with overwhelming laughter.

    The laughable man sat at the controls to the ship, his long mouth bent into a frown in deep concentration, his beady eyes manically twitching as he pressed buttons and pulled levers with masterful accuracy and knowledge. His large, almost sausage shaped nose trembled at his sudden movements, and for all of the small man's comical features, the immediate impression given off by him at that time was one of desperate seriousness. His short, messy hair was lit up by flashing lights on the console.

    The lights in question read, "WARNING: LOW POWER. 5% REMAINING.", which of course, was a very bad thing. The spaceman, in his complex protective suit and with glasses firmly atop his head, groaned as the lights continued to flash.

    "Oh dear," he sighed, in German, "I'm not going to make it home after all. In fact, I won't be making it anywhere today, apart from maybe the afterlife. A fatal error on my part. I've completely misjudged the fuel allowances." The man wasn't bothered at all that he was talking to himself: there wasn't anybody at all he could talk to in space apart from himself. So the man continued in his fiddling, the warning lights flashing ever brighter until finally he eyed a large red button on the far side of the controls.

    "No, you shouldn't," he scolded himself, but he continued to stare at the button. "But, I have no choice." With a dramatic leap, the spaceman pushed down on the button, and the lights flickered off, leaving him in darkness.

    For a while, the ship hung in a suspenseful silence. Then suddenly, the lights flicked back on, and a new light flashed on the monitor: "OVERDRIVE MODE ACTIVATED". The engines and thrusters blared to life, propelling the ship forwards at an incredible rate as the spaceman strapped himself into position with one hand whilst still manically pressing buttons with the other. The ship moved surprisingly smoothly, and the man was never once flung from his seat or even knocked about. The SS FLIEGON-SCHWEIN had taken flight.

    The battered wings of the ship extended, providing the vehicle with enough control for it to edge towards the planetary system in front of it. The thrusters angled themselves as the spaceman pulled and swung joysticks on the control panel. Soon, the ship was approaching a series of planets aside a calm, orange sun.

    "Computer!" he yelled, even though he could easily have whispered for the device to pick him up. "Scan the planets for suitability! I need oxygen levels, gravity, if you'd please." In front of him, a large screen slid down from the ceiling, and computer code ran unrelentlessly across it. Soon, the spaceman was presented with eight planets, and his long mouth fell open in shock. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

    "I can't believe what I am seeing!" the spaceman said, "To have all of the planets in one system so... suitable, it must be a miracle of science!" Yanking the screen out of the way carelessly, the man squinted out of the screen in front of him. He soon gave up, and slotted his glasses onto his long nose, blinking as his eyes adjusted. But finally he could see the world properly, and he steered the Fliegon-schwein towards a large planet that looked almost identical to Earth.

    "This planet looks almost identical to Earth," he muttered under his breath, "so let's hope it gives me a heroes welcome like Earth would!" With a manic grin upon his comical features, the man let out a cry of determination, and pushed forwards hard on the two central joysticks, his cry turning into a scream as he lurched backwards. The ship dashed forwards at an incredible speed, heading straight for the planet in front of him. For the first time, the ride was starting to get bumpy.

    The spaceman jumped around in his seat as the small ship entered the planets atmosphere. Struggling to turn his head through the g-force, he scanned the warning messages once more: they read, "WARNING: LOW POWER. 2% REMAINING.". "Still enough," the man grunted, pulling the joysticks even more as the ship increased in speed again. For any other man, the controls would be a nightmare to memorize. For the spaceman, it was second nature.

    Finally, pushing through the clouds, the man and his weathered spaceship arrived at the planet surface. The sea was vast and impressive like the Earth's very own, but this sea was tinged a pale green colour. Similarly, the grass on the planet stuck out as being a light yellow instead of Earth's green. Once again, the man's mouth hung open, but this time it was in awe instead of in shock.

    "I'll be crowned man of the year for this achievement, for discovering this wonderful place," he thought aloud, and then shook his head sadly, "If I live to tell the tale, that is." Once again, the man pulled on the joysticks, and the ship sprung into action, the man flying it masterfully as it glided close to the golden ground. The spaceman dodged dangerously around golden trees and remarkable forestry, struggling to concentrate on his flying due to the natural beauty below him. After a minute or two of flight, the man began to get inpatient.

    "Come on, come on," he murmured, looking desperately at the landscape around him, "Intelligent life, I need to find you. You have a habit of evading me, but I have to find you now." The ship flew onwards, past new forests and impressive landscapes, finally approaching a large field filled with odd, blue rocks that jarred the land, sticking out from the yellow grass like splinters in human skin.

    "Those are nice rocks," the man commented, "I shall have to bring one home for my wife. It will make an excellent garden ornament."

    Suddenly, the warning lights flashed even brighter, this time stating, "NO POWER. PREPARE FOR IMPACT". As the light sound of the thrusters died away, the man let his jaw drop once again.

    "Oh dear."

    With momentum carrying the ship forwards, the spaceman pulled down the computer screen in a desperate attempt to activate safety mechanisms, but the screen simply read, "Power failure. You are doomed. Enjoy the afterlife, sucker."

    "Curse that joking machine," the spaceman muttered, desperately fiddling with the controls as the ship neared the ground. But before he could do anything, impact. With an almighty crash, the ship bounced forwards, parts of the thrusters smashing into tiny chunks of metal and falling away behind him. Screaming, the man was flipped upside down as the ship made contact once again, the multi-layered glass screen shattering, and the left wing snapping off. With an almighty bang, the ship was finally laid to rest, now a mesh of metal and wiring, resting against one of the blue rocks.

    And yet, from the smouldering remains of the SS FLIEGON-SCHWEIN, the spaceman emerged, covered in dirt and muck, a wild smirk on his comical features.

    "Well," he grinned, "that went smoothly." The grin soon disappeared, and the man stood on top of the blue rock, looking down at his now destroyed ship with a look of pity and hurt in his eyes. In fact, a small tear-drop began to form, although he wiped it away before it could fall.

    "Oh, my dear Fliegon-schwein," he sighed, a lump in his throat. "We have been through so much together. And my recklessness has caused you your untimely demise. I'll avenge you, somehow." With a sad smile, the man patted the ship, the sounds of some kind of equipment breaking echoing from inside.

    Unsure of what to do, the spaceman checked the back of the ship, climbing his way through the wreckage. Luckily for him, his food supplies and favourite teddy bear had somehow escaped unscathed. As he turned to return outside, he tripped on something, falling painfully to the floor, his bare hands cut by sharp metal. Yowling, the man clutched his hands, sucking away a small stream of blood from his finger.

    Turning in anger, he saw that the cause of his fall had been none other than the computer, which was now blank apart from a small "XP" at the top left, the final comic touch on the now broken machine. "Unfortunately, my love does not extend to you," the man growled, "and you can remain here and rot into a computer skeleton, or whatever. I was going to punch you soon anyway."

    Smug with his monologue, the spaceman turned and froze. Now blocking the entrance to the remains was a large, reptilian creature, its silhouette blocking out the light from outside. The man ran from the remains, terrified, not once looking back to see if he was being followed. However, he soon realised that the creature was still stood there, watching him with idle curiosity, and so he walked back to it, stopping in front of it.

    The creature stood high at about seven feet tall, its four, scaly legs chunky and muscular. The creature's face was fearsome, all large teeth and piercing red eyes. Its two arms were smaller and hung at its side like human arms, and its tail stood taut, layered with several sharp spikes. It looked like an onyx centaur that had been transformed into a lizard. But behind its fearsome appearance, it radiated a peaceful, watchful presence that caused the spaceman to feel at ease.

    "I'm Diedrik Schweinstager," the spaceman announced, carefully pronouncing his words, "Human." Then he realised that the alien creature would not be able to understand his words - to them, he was the alien. But he knew that he had to find a way to communicate with them. Fumbling around in the pockets of his complex suit, he produced a pen and small sheet of paper, writing down his name and species in large bold letters.

    The creature opened its mouth, and uttered a strange hissing noise. Listening intently, Schweinstager attempted to write down what the other being had said, and ended up with a mass of scribbling. Eventually, the creature made a subtle noise that could have passed for laughter.

    "It's laughing at me," Schweinstager thought, smiling gently. And to his surprise, the creature copied him. For the first time, the explorer felt genuinely safe, and excited. Tentatively, gently, the spaceman held out his hand. And with another hiss, the creature copied him, and for the first time in history, two different types of intelligent life shook hands.

    As the pair walked off into the distance, only the slip of paper remained, forgotten and hidden in the golden grass. On it, next to the explorers name, was the word "Spractoss."

    To be continued...

  2. #2
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    Hm....well this is certinally an interesting start. Not much I can say at the moment, since I am not sure where you plan to take this story.

    That said, did you have to kill the computer? Maybe I am just the only person who finds smart aleck computers funny. Anyway, good start, and good luck.
    Take a moment to consider just how nothing nothing really is....If you understand this, then you just solved the universe.

    The truth that each person...each soul...is a book. And when we lay our feelings out in the open...and we give them no name...and we give them no author....and we give them no description.....who will actually read them..........?"

    Credit to Eevee for the amazing banner.
    Current fanfiction project: Pokemon: Absolution

  3. #3

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    Thank you very much! The first thing that you'll find is that this part is nothing like any of the rest of the story, in that this is the backstory to the main plot. I actually have the first chapter completed as well, so I'll give it to you now!

    Chapter 1: The Hunt

    Rocky terrain, just east of the Walian tribal grounds, Hargos, 2857

    The green feathered arrow thunked gently from the rocky outcrop, ricocheting off down the mountainside in an imitation of a boulder, and Beet cursed under his breath. He had never been very good with a bow and arrow, much to the entertainment of his peers. He had never quite been able to angle it right, and so embarrassingly enough, his arrows always seemed to land several meters off target.

    He had began to wonder if there was something wrong with him. Apparently, the distance was always clear for the other members of the Walian tribe, but to him, the far distance was blurry. He had jokingly suggested to himself that it was a curse from Walis, the tribal God, because of the extra hunting effort that he didn't put in. Of course, this was ridiculous, because he had long ago reason that Walis was false, an imaginary being passed down from ancient times. They should move on from that tedious belief, onto new horizons of discovery and development.

    The problem was that nobody in the tribe agreed with his views. They all clung on too strongly to every inch of tradition they could, desperate to protect the "sacred ways of the past". Beet wouldn't have minded in a usual situation - it seemed good to him that they should have their own individual views. But to him, their ways seemed barbaric and uncivilised. He hated the finely cut bow that he was holding, although he did admire the beauty of its rocky curves. But he wasn't going to try and fight off the others beliefs.

    Grunting, Beet slotted another arrow into place on the bow, and tried to focus on his target - a Venidia. The green furred mammal's three eyes blinked at separate times, closely surveying the area around it. The creature was well adapted to survival on the orangey brown cliffs that covered the entirety of planet Hargos, with large, radar-like ears on the top of its angular head, large nose holes for smelling the edible weeds that grow on the outcrops, and four muscular, light legs that enabled it to flee at immense speeds. Its main downfall though was it's ridiculous green colour that made it stand out from a mile away. Were it not for the fact that Beet was well concealed behind a large, crescent shaped rock, the Venidia would already have been miles away.

    Closing his left eye, the one he deemed weakest, Beet desperately tried to get a clear line of fire on the creature. His clothes, made of ragged wools and leathers, camouflaged him with the landscapes around him, and clothes such as his allowed even the bulky frame of a Hargon to be well hidden. Finally, Beet managed to get a reasonable aim on the creature, and hoped that for once, he would actually fire on target.

    However, before he could release his green feathered arrow, the Venidia screeched frailly as it was launched aside by the heavy impact of another, blue tipped arrow. Turning to see who had stolen his prey, Beet smiled as he recognised the firer of the arrow.

    "Lassa, it's good to see you," Beet grinned, climbing up to stand on the same rock as his friend, his large muscles allowing him to scale it in relative ease. His voice was surprisingly deep and impressive sounding, for such a skinny Hargon.

    "Sup Beet!" Lassa grinned, raising three fingers into the air. Beet followed suit, and the pair slapped hands together, a gesture of friendship in Hargon culture. To any human eye, the pair would have seemed quite a sight, the large, hulking frames of the two Hargons in their brown wools and leathers. Standing next to Lassa, Beet was dwarfed by the size of his friend - although she was female, she was easily several inches taller than his 6 ft, and her strong muscles looked almost as if they would break right through her brown woollen jumper. By human standards, Beet was muscular, but he looked like a weakling in comparison to her!

    "I hate to tell you, but you just stole my prey," Beet pointed out.

    "Yup, I noticed," she nodded, jumping down from the high rock and landing on her powerful legs.

    "You noticed?" Beet cocked an eyebrow, "Ri-ight."

    "Have you got a problem with that? I can un-kill it if you'd like." Lassa teased, approaching the body of the creature and ripping her arrow from it. The stone arrow was much heavier to fire than any wooden arrow would have been, but there are no trees on Hargos, so rock is the first choice when it comes to making weaponry. The pair shared a grin at her comment, and Beet landed smoothly at the edge of the high rock, rubbing the dust from his large hands.

    "I'd love to see you actually try to un-kill it. Maybe you can make a performance of it. The Elders need to smile a bit more."

    "Try my! Smile Queen, right here!" Lassa grinned, although her statement didn't sound cocky at all as she was clearly joking.

    "No, but in all seriousness, it was my prey."

    "And?"

    "The clue's in the word "my". And if you shot it then... Lassa, what are you doing?" As he spoke, Lassa gently took one of his green feathered arrows and walked back to the body of the Venidia, carefully shoving the arrow into the creatures side. She proceeded to pick up the creatures body, carrying it over to Beet with no visible strain to her muscles.

    "Here's your prey, freshly caught by Mr Beet Walorst, archer extraordinaire." she smiled, laying the body down in front of him. The smile on Beet's small mouth spread wide until the edges of his lips threatened to invade the personal space of his small ears. However, it soon disappeared and a look of sadness entered his angular, emerald eyes.

    "Oh Lassa, you're far too kind to me," he sighed, scratching his messy, brown hair.

    "No need to flatter me. I just don't want to see you teased by the tribal idiots for not bringing back any food, again." Lassa smiled, sitting down atop the crescent rock.

    "Again?" he teased, but then sighed, "No, but in all seriousness, I can't accept it. I need to learn to kill these things for myself. I may not like this culture but we're stuck in it, so I'd better learn to fend for myself. Sorry."

    "Come on, Beet, you've got to understand when you can use other help to your advantage!" Lass sighed, her somewhat masculine features accented by the action. Her nose was large, wider than Beet's, but not a long. Her mouth was long and rough, and in general she could be deemed unattractive by human standards. Her long, brown hair was wild and messy, running down to the top of her trousers. But in her blue eyes was a welcoming kindness that made people happy just to be around her.

    Appearance wise, Hargons look very similar to humans, like all humanoid species. The differences are that Hargons are covered in thicker, tougher hair that runs almost everywhere on their bodies, and that their muscles are huge in comparison to humans. Hair leaked from every button hole in Beet's clothes, but this was the only thing that made him stand out from humankind - because he was skinny, his muscles were a similar size to that of a muscular human.

    "Look, Lassa," he said, softly, "I don't want to do that. I want to stay fair in this game they call the hunt. I want to play by the rules. Even if it means that I lose."

    "You can't do anything but lose!" came a sneery voice from the high rock, and Beet and Lass turned to see the huge figure of another, even more muscular Hargon. He was carrying two Venidia over each huge shoulder, the green fur of the creature helping to bring out his light green eyes. He was an instant figure of handsome arrogance, and Beet looked down, ready to receive an onslaught of insults.

    "Oh, Gerht," Lassa smiled coolly, "so bad to see you here."

    "Shut up Lassa," Gehrt sneered, strolling over to them with a huge amount of Hargon swag. "Looks like you finally shot something. It must be a miracle. Walis be praised." His sing-song sarcastic voice stabbed at Beet's ears.

    "Leave me alone, go and pick on something your own size." Beet growled, fiercely.

    "How about no." sneered Gehrt.

    "How about yes?" Lassa suggested, and she smiled evilly as Gehrt glared at her.

    "Listen to me, chumps, I've been thinking of what I'll do when my father the leader dies." Gehrt explained.

    "A funeral would be a good idea." suggested Lassa, "and then maybe you can build a tent big enough to hold you ego."

    "Shut it, Marjuin!" sneered Gehrt, his obvious annoyance increasing to the stage where it even made Beet smile.

    "Good luck making a tent bigger than Hargos itself." Lassa grinned, patting him hard on the back.

    "I was actually thinking of a new decree, outlawing runts. So that lazy wimps like you, Beet Walorst, don't hold the tribe back."

    "How wonderful. What a nice sentence. I bet Beet here is almost moved to tears." Lassa said.

    "I am." Beet joined in.

    "Look, oh mighty Gehrt, heir to the tribe, wielder of ego the big, we don't actually care. Spread your ideas to people who care, like your grunts."

    "When I am leader, I'll make you pay, Lassa Marjuin, and then maybe you'll eat your words." Gehrt sneered a final time, before turning on his heels and swaggering away.

    "What do words taste like?" Lass yelled after him.

    "Thanks again there." Beet smiled. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

    "Panic and scream?" she grinned, "Nah, it's alright, bullies like him
    don't deserve anything other than being treated the way they treat others. You should join in next time, it's actually really easy to own these guys."

    "I don't think so," Beet explained, "By acting like them, you make yourself almost as bad as them. You've got to counteract wrong with right to make it truly good."

    "You're right," Lassa nodded, "and I wish that the rest of the tribe starts thinking like you. You've got a good head."

    "Yeah," Beet sighed. Although he had barely been insulted, though, he still felt down from Gehrt's attack. He knew that he was being targetted himself, like his attempts at shooting the Venidia, but
    only successful. Lassa sensed his feelings, and laid a reassuring arm round his shoulders.

    "Come on, let's go back home. I here the market's visiting, and we both know what they say about the market!"

    "Oh yes," Beet laughed, "When the market is in town, that's where Beet Walorst will be found!"

    To be continued...

    All dialogue translated from Walish, a variant of the south Hargon tongue.

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