Writing Open Water [M-VL]

[Raiyuu]

[color=Navy][size=1][b]Journal 0.1: Calm[/b]

Open water. It felt ... liberating. Just [i]blue,[/i] as far as the eye could see, in every direction, and with the sun as high as it was in a cloudless sky, the horizon line blurred so it felt like being in a colossal blue bauble.

A hot, utterly calm day. Nothing in view deserved to be called a wave. More like artistically stippled blue paint than the Mighty Ocean.

Around three in the afternoon, when the sun was past its zenith, a crack appeared in the blue bauble. Minute at first, but gradually resolving itself into a red-and-white cruiser, large but aquadynamic, making its way unhurriedly towards the bauble's centre.

Slouching on the helipad, she watched it approach. She chewed gum. There was little else to do; no news from the Eye in the Sky on their next destination, this field drained dry. The techs polished their shiny toys or kicked things that weren't working until they did. The maintenance crews were all wetside, checking the treads and the mechanisms for wear or, more likely, sabotage.

Her ilk slept. You never knew when you were next going to get the chance. But she'd been singled out. No sleep for her this afternoon, not until later, and then not [i]natural[/i], not refreshing.

The red-and-white cruiser was about halfway between her and the horizon now. If she bothered to grab a pair of binoculars she'd be able to see it clearly, but why? It'd get closer.

[b]"Remind me again. First why at all, then why me."

[/b]The captain unfolded himself from his leaning position on the rail.

[b]"I've told you enough times."[/b] His crows' feet crinkled as he smiled. [b]"Pester [i]them[/i] about it, when they get here."[/b]

The cruiser drew closer. She could make out the device on the side with her naked eyes now. White ship, red plus-sign.

[b]"I hate doctors."

[/b][/size][/color] [center][color=Navy]~~~~~~~~~~~~

[/color] [left][color=Navy][size=1][b]"As you know, our assets have been increasingly under fire by AZG Enterprises,"[/b] said the bureaucrat. His suit and his side parting were immaculate even at sea, but his little glasses - [i][b]they have to just be for show,[/b][/i] she thought, [i][b]they're far too small to have any actual effect on his field of vision[/b][/i] - kept sliding slightly down his nose. He pushed them back every time they reached a certain point on the bridge of his nose. She could have set her clock by the cycle - push, slip, slip, slip, push, slip, slip...

[b]"Now with our slightly inferior resource pool, we simply cannot afford to match them unit to unit. Therefore we must use what funding we possess to maximise the efficiency of every unit we have, thereby counterbalancing the disparity between our numbers and theirs -"

"So our pilots can kill more than theirs can,"[/b] she butted in wearily, tired of all the governmentese he was reeling off. [b]"You can just say it. I'm desensitised. That's what you call it, right?"

[/b]He made a small movement of his head, as if settling his suit jacket more comfortably across his shoulders. [b]"Quite. Our researchers have determined that improving shell response time and optimising user-shell response rates are the best course of action. You have been selected to pioneer a revolutionary new shell-control interface."

"But the long and short of it is, you're spiking my brain full of needles."

"Two contacts only are required. The left and right cortical hemispheres must be equally involved in the interface."

"Risks?" [/b]He opened his mouth to answer. [b]"No, wait; don't bother. I refuse, I lose my job, I lose my income. That's all the risk I need to know. Knock me out."

[/b][/size][/color] [center][size=2][color=Navy]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[/color][/size] [left][color=Navy][size=1]Hazy light, swimming into existence behind her eyelids; the sun? No, not bright enough, different quality of light, whiter, more sterile, more ... surgical ... [i][b]oh, yeah.[/b][/i]

Voices.

[b]"She's coming around."

"You're the surgeon; it's your responsibility."

"Excuse me! You're the ones that forced her, you should do it."

"Someone tell me,"[/b] she says, straining to make the words. She can't sit up. Must be the anaesthetic wearing off. [b]"You've got me all excited now."

[/b]A shape blocks the light. White coat: doctor. Surgeon? Wringing his hands, glancing continually over to his right. Bureaucrat's voice from there.

[b]"The, um ... the operation was a ... success,"[/b] wringing hands, glancing. Not telling her everything.

[b]"And?"[/b]

[b]"Yes, well. The shell-control interface works like a dream. You'll be up and piloting again in no time."

"[i]And?[/i]"

[/b]Like a rabbit in the headlights.

[b]"The, um, the contacts. The, needles. They'll let you control the shell like it's your own body. But you can't ... control ... your own body ... any more. I'm sorry."[/b]


[color=DarkGreen]This is the first of a few shorts I'm writing as background for the characters in my latest manga project (there's a thread in the Manga Workshop, [i]International Waters[/i]). The next one'll be more action-packed and introduce some more characters as well as the 'shells'. Feedback is welcome as are questions about the world it's set in.[/color]
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[Arcadia]

[size=1]Oooh, funky. You've officially got my interest. I'd love to learn a little more about this girl, whoever she may be. Obviously she's important, seeing as she was chosen for whatever this little experiment is, but she doesn't seem to into anything yet. She is kind of funny, though.

So there's that, and of course, more information about the shells and what the hell is going on and all that good stuff, which hopefully will be coming very soon. Until then, maybe I'll go check out your thread in the Manga Workshop... ^_~[/size]

[Raiyuu]

[b][color=Navy][size=1]Journal 0.2: Light Breeze
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Scanning the canteen, Wren spotted Takazaki, slouched with his boots up on his usual table. The skinny Japanese man was manoeuvring delicate forkfuls of pink spun-sugar icing, from the plate of cake on his lap, around the crinkled cigarette in the corner of his mouth. The low-hanging electric lightbulbs reflected in his round sunglasses, giving him constellations for eyes. Wren headed over and slumped down on the other side of the small round table. It and the chairs were all bolted to the canteen floor.

Takazaki finished a mouthful, swung his boots onto the floor and carefully placed his plate, with its triangular pink slice of cake now entirely bereft of icing, on the table. He leaned conversationally on [/size][/color][color=Navy][size=1]his elbows and looked at Wren over his glasses.

[b]"You,"[/b] he said, in the manner of a teacher, gently reproving a generally excellent student that had for once been unusually lax, [b]"are not being gentlemanly towards that young woman."[/b]

Wren looked behind him, seeing the back of the wheelchair and the short, practical bob of strawberry blonde hair drooping sullenly above it, alone at a table.

[b]"She told me to leave her alone. In no uncertain terms,"[/b] he told Takazaki. [b]"She swears more, now. She never used to..."

"Experiences change people," [/b]the Japanese man replied sagely, slouching back once more and beginning to methodically lick his fork clean of every scrap of icing. [b]"You must accept that they have changed, and either change along with them, or be left behind."

[i]But what if I'm not happy with the change?[/i][/b] Wren asked himself, looking back once again at the wheelchair. Her head turned slightly, as if she sensed his eyes on her, and he caught a glitter of silver at her temple, the lightbulbs reflecting. She tried to hide them with her hair, but if a lock fell out of place, revealing the cold steel contacts, there was little she could do about it anymore.

The captain had gone berserk when he found out the quacks on the medical cruiser had botched their job. He was of a rare breed, the captain; he considered every one of the hundred and fifty or so crewmembers to be like his own children, and when anything adverse happened to any one of them his reactions were decidedly more personal than regulations suggested. He'd fully intended to go and strangle that guy with the glasses - Johnson? Johnstone? - personally and on the spot, in front of all the surgeons. Fox'd had to forcibly restrain him.

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[/size][/color] [left][color=Navy][size=1]A day or so after the medical cruiser had left, Helen from Comms had knocked timidly on the captain's door to tell him there was news from the Eye in the Sky, and did he want them to mobilise and head for the new co-ordinates? He'd nodded wearily, his eyes red from staring at his commscreen, sending out messages to every level of the company and the medical firm demanding that action be taken. He'd been assured by the chairman himself, who liked to project the image that he took such matters seriously, that the particular line of research in question would be dropped immediately in order to prevent further tragedies. There was no human feeling in the chairman's message. None at all.

Since then they'd been rumbling ponderously towards the spot where the Eye in the Sky predicted another field to be. But now, with less than a day's travel to go, Helen from Comms was forced to sound a general alert. There were several ominous blips on the radar scope. AZG Enterprises had spotted what the Eye in the Sky had seen, and they wanted a piece.

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[center][color=Navy]~~~~~~~~~~~~

[/color] [left][color=Navy][size=1]The harsh white of the canteen lightbulbs was joined by the rotating red glow of the alert warning. A klaxon joined in. Takazaki was unmoved, starting to pick the icing from a new slice of cake. Wren jumped up and started running towards the express elevator.

[b]"WREN!"

[/b]He skidded to a halt, nearly falling down.

[b]"Wren, don't you [i]dare [/i]leave me here. There's a fucking alert on, we need every warm body we have manning shells!"

[/b]Wren winced as he did every time he heard her swear.

[b]"But you can't, not -"[/b] he bit back the words [i]not in your condition,[/i] realising just before he said them just how patronising they sounded.

[b]"Wren, I [i]can![/i] Since they spiked these fucking needles in my head it's the only fucking thing I [i]can[/i] do! You can't just - [i]WREN![/i] Wren, are you - come back! Wren!"[/b]

He heard her voice start to crack with desperation as he turned and ran to the elevator. The edge of despair in her shouts wrenched at him, but he couldn't do it. He just couldn't let her go out there into a battlefield, not in her state of mind. She wouldn't concentrate. She'd be easy meat for the enemy. She'd [i]die.[/i] And maybe that's what she was after, but he wouldn't let her make that decision.

[i][b]"Wren, please..."[/b][/i] He could hear the tears as the elevator doors closed.


[color=DarkGreen]I know I promised some action in this one but I didn't want these to get too long, so I'm going to leave it there for now and do the action in the next instalment. Also, the main reason I haven't mentioned her name yet is because I don't have one yet. If anyone has any suggestions based on what they've seen of her so far, I'd welcome them. :)[/color]
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[Arcadia]

[size=1]This chapter is much better then the first. It seems more coherent. That might be because I went and read your manga thread, but still. I feel like there's just a lot more personality in this one, with the characters included and with your general voice. I especially loved this part:

[quote=Blackjack]He heard her voice start to crack with desperation as he turned and ran to the elevator. The edge of despair in her shouts wrenched at him, but he couldn't do it. He just couldn't let her go out there into a combat situation, not in her state of mind. She wouldn't concentrate. She'd be easy meat for the enemy. She'd die. And maybe that's what she was after, but he wouldn't let her make that decision.

"Wren, please..." He could hear the tears as the elevator doors cloesed.[/quote]

Very awesome. The very last line is great. As for a name, though... eh, I hesitate to suggest anything because I really don't know the character yet, you know? If I think of something that fits, though, you'll be the first to know. ^_~[/size]

[Raiyuu]

[size=1][b][color=navy]Journal 0.3: Squall

[/color][/b][/size][size=1][color=navy]Fox found Finn in his control room, a calm centre amidst the chaos of the general alert. There was no klaxon, no rotating red light in here. Finn was [/color][/size][size=1][color=navy]drifting in lazy circles in his swivel chair and [/color][/size][size=1][color=navy]eating one of his special chocolate brownies. The captain didn't allow smoking anywhere on the rig - there was just too much flammable material about to risk it - and so Finn had to experience the Lord's greatest gift to mankind in bake products instead.

[b]"Finlay," [/b]Fox said, from his leaning position on the doorframe, [b]"I need a refit, stat."

[/b]The lean Rastafarian kicked out at the console with his foot so that the chair swung the other way. He leaned back so that he was looking up at the ceiling and licked the last crumbs of his brownie off his fingers.

[b]"Take a while,"[/b] he told Fox thoughtfully. [b]"You okay wit leavin' you comrades in de lurch while I refit you shell?"

"I don't need a full refit, Finlay, just a single module replacement. I've been on Scanning all week and my shell still has the dipping sonar attached."

[/b]Finn sat up straight and turned away from the muscular man to face the console and the plate-glass window above it. His long fingers started flitting across switches and toggles, and through the window, on the Construction Floor, mechanical arms started to unfold like the jointed, chitinous limbs of insects.

[b]"What tek you fancy instead of de sonar, mon?"

[/b]The conveyor on the ceiling of the Construction Floor clanked into jerky movement. Back in Storage, where the belt began, Fox's shell was manoeuvred into position and picked up by magnetic clamps.

[b]"The usual, Finlay. I assume you haven't been playing with my configuration since I last flew?"

[/b]At the left-hand end of the Floor, a huge pair of double-doors slid open with a hiss of hydraulics and Fox's jet-black shell, held by the conveyor's clamps, hove into view.

[b]"What you tek me for, mon?"

"Good. Thanks, Finlay. I'll be waiting for it in the Ready Room."

[/b]Finn hit another toggle on the console and a VR interface visor and gloves fell from the ceiling, dangling and bouncing on the end of their cables like the emergency oxygen masks on an airliner.

[b]"It be wit you in five, Fox mon."[/b]

With the visor on, Finn's field of vision was replaced with a skeleton diagnostic view of Fox's shell. Attached to each module were labels containing data on heat output, rate of fire, weight and power drain. Around the edges, on his peripheral vision, were icons pertaining to lists of available modules, different possible view modes and cursor functions.

Reaching out with his now-gloved hands, which appeared in the visor as cursors, he selected the dipping sonar array currently installed in the shell's chest socket and removed it. Down on the Construction Floor, mechanical arms darted busily around, sending out the correctly coded radio signals to open up the chest socket's sunflower clamp. Other arms waited, poised and ready to remove the module once it was released.

Finn opened up the module menu and navigated rapidly through submenu after submenu until he found a heat sink. Fox went in for a hard-hitting long range armament configuration on his shell, lots of missiles, and a plasma cannon that he'd managed to get his hands on hot out of R&D, and all of that had threatened to overheat [/color][/size][size=1][color=navy]the first time he'd used it[/color][/size][size=1][color=navy], nearly blowing his servo motors, not to mention cooking him alive in the cockpit. He'd had to tone it down and use fewer weapons and more heat sinks, although he'd ignored everyone on the issue of leaving the plasma cannon off his setup.

With the sonar array neatly shelved and returned to Storage, the shell's chest now sported an empty circular socket, the locking arms of the sunflower clamp open around its edge, like the petals of its namesake. The arms set to work slotting the heat sink into place.

[b]"Finn?"

[/b]Another voice in the doorway. With his visor on he couldn't see who was speaking, but he knew the voice.[/color][/size][size=1]

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[size=1][color=Navy]Once airborne, Fox boosted away from the rig at full throttle to catch up with the two friendly blips on his radar. His was a state-of-the-art new model of cockpit; gone were the double control-column, the racks upon racks of buttons and switches, the confusing multiple screens and readouts. His arms and legs were encased in cylindrical metal sleeves, the cushioned insides of which inflated like blood pressure testing cuffs. The slightest contraction of his muscles was picked up by sensors inside the sleeves and translated into movement of the shell's own limbs. The Head-Up Display had been streamlined into a single screen, radar in the bottom-left, rear-view in the bottom-right, pupil tracking to target and select options.

Fox's eyes darted across the screen as he opened up a communication channel with the rest of his unit. Images of Wren and Violet appeared across the top of his HUD.

[/color][/size] [size=1][color=navy][b][color=Navy]"Hey, Wren! Where's your girlfriend, huh?"
[/color]
[/b]Wren's normally pale face coloured, and his nervous blue eyes looked everywhere except at Fox. [b][i]Too sensitive. Needs to lighten up.[/i]

"She's in the canteen. She's in no fit state."

[/b]Fox was taken aback. [b]"Is that really your call, kid? She's the best pilot we've got -"

[/b]Violet rounded on Fox angrily, leaning towards the camera, her long black forelock hanging down almost to her knees. [b]"It isn't your call either, meathead. After what she's been through, she needs our care and support, not for us to throw her out into the first firefight that comes along!"

"Calm down, girl." [i]Man, is she hot when she's angry. [/i]"If I was as stressed as I guess she is, I'd wanna get out there and shoot some stuff. Y'know, take out some of that pent-up aggression."

[/b]Violet's expression went murderous, but Fox muted whatever string of expletives she was about to volley at him. Seven blips, moving in tight formation, had appeared on the radar. His targeting computer identified them as hostiles, and coloured them red.
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[/size] [size=1][color=navy][b]"Usual tactics, Wren?" [/b]Fox enquired sweetly. [b]"I guess with the princess out of commission you're in charge today."[/b] The little image of Violet was going red in the face now. He thought he lip-read the word 'chauvinist'. [i][b]So she's reached the non-event-specific insults already.
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[/size] [size=1][color=navy][b]"Violet, shut up,"[/b] said Wren, not unkindly, [b]"you're giving us all a headache."[/b] Violet clammed up abruptly, leaning back in her flight seat and looking a bit sheepish. [b]"Yes, Fox, usual tactics. There are a lot more of them but we know their weaknesses and we know we're better than them. Do you have a target yet?"
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[/size] [size=1][color=navy]By way of an answer Fox selected the closest of the red blips and loosed a pack of radar-guided missiles at it. His shell rocked back in mid-air as the contents of the air-to-air missile module in its right shoulder socket ignited and streaked away, leaving half his HUD obscured by white vapour trails.
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[/size] [size=1][color=navy][b]"All right, we all know the drill,"[/b] Wren concluded, [b]"keep them out of range of the rig or there'll be Hell to pay. Hang back there, Fox, and cover us."
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[/size] [size=1][color=navy]The blip Fox had targeted disappeared. He locked another one in.[/color][/size][size=1]

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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Violet had a visual on the AZG shells by the time Fox's missiles struck home. AZG's units could handle a direct missile hit, but Fox threw nine at it in quick succession, a tactic that worked time and time again but which AZG never seemed to guard against. The gutted machine made several splashes as various severed pieces fell from the air.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]The breeze was strengthening and the waves that had been so calm a week or so before were beginning to gain in height and ferocity. Violet compensated for the crosswind as she kept her formation with Wren's storm-blue shell. As the two of them flew closer, she saw another set of vapour trails arc above them and converge on a second hostile shell.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Wren's face appeared on one of her screens. [b]"Break formation in five,"[/b] he ordered. Violet counted five seconds before yanking on both control columns and veering hard left, as Wren peeled off to the right in a pincer movement designed to outflank the five remaining enemy shells. Previous experience had taught them that AZG pilots thought like textbook soldiers and were usually loath to break formation, which gave them a solid base of firepower that could be easily co-ordinated and targeted, but also made their tactics predictable.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Violet skimmed the wavetops and got in underneath the tight squad of identical spindly black shells, firing off limpet mines like frisbees from the launcher on her right arm. Between two of the AZG shells she saw Wren levelling his impact rifle, before she flitted out of their formation and out of range of the limpets' blast.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]She'd managed to hit one shell just on the waist joint; the explosion tore[/color][/color][/size][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy] off [/color][/color][/size][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy] one of its legs, throwing out its balance and causing it to heel over to one side, but failing to completely incapacitate it. Another had a manipulator module and actually managed to rip the limpet from its body in time to hurl it straight back at her.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]She swore, deftly twisting the contol columns around to dodge the unexpected attack, but the limpet's fuse wasn't long, and it burst harmlessly halfway between her and their formation, showering her and them with shrapnel.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]She'd damaged them. Now she was a threat.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Almost as one body, the five gaunt black wraiths turned and aimed assault-rifles at Violet. Automatic weapons with a phenomenal rate of fire, the tactician in her had no doubt they would be loaded with armour-piercing rounds that could punch straight through her shell and out the other side.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Wrenching the controls around, Violet concentrated all her energy on evasive action as the weapons began their shrieking staccato chatter. She just about made out one of the assault-rifles plummeting into the sea as Wren smashed its shoulder with a surgically precise round from his impact rifle, but there were still four of them tracking her flight path as she weaved, ducked, doubled back, dived and spiralled.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]A couple of rounds slammed through the shell's leg armour, and she frantically pulled back on the throttle, opening up the booster array all the way and rocketing straight up into the air, away from the hailstorm.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]There was a roar and a brilliant yellow flash as Fox's plasma cannon made itself known from afar. Two more of the AZG shells hit the water, their joints and gun barrels melted and fused by the intense heat. The other three seemed to change priorities and go after Wren instead, so she boosted back towards their squad -
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]But there was something new on the radar, a green 'friendly' blip moving up past Fox's support position, faster than she'd thought it possible for a shell to move. She checked her rear-view; there was a white shell coming up behind her, skimming a metre or so above the wavecrests but going at such a speed that it still kicked up spray in its wake. There were extra booster modules in the shoulder sockets, and both the arms ended in ferocious parallel cat-claw attachments.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Fox appeared on-screen. His artfully stubbled face looked even more unbearably smug than usual.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy][b]"What did I say, huh? What did I say?"
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Violet opened a channel with Wren, but the sight of him closed her mouth before she could speak. He looked utterly forlorn. She could almost read the words in his eyes: [i][b]I've lost her. That isn't her in there. She's gone.[/b][/i]
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]The white shell was playing havoc with the AZGs, darting in and out of their formation and carving them up with wanton abandon, moving with a speed and precision they couldn't hope to match.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy]Violet's HUD was suddenly filled with a face. A strawberry blonde bob covered the eyes, and there was a narrow steel tiara encircling just above the ears, resting on the two chromed nubs visible at the temples. The mouth was open in a bestial grin that was all teeth and no humanity.
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy][b]"What are you all waiting for? There's more of 'em coming! Get over here and [i]get fucking stuck in!"
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[left][size=1][color=navy][color=Navy][color=DarkGreen]This one took me much longer than the others. I still don't feel a hundred percent happy with it: I'm not sure how well some of the characterisation comes across, and I don't think I'm that great at writing action/combat sequences. I think in hindsight I should maybe have left some of this chapter out and put it in the next one, or not tried to introduce so many new characters in one go. I'm happier with the beginning than the end, too.[/color]
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[Shinmaru]

The story is good so far. Nice to see that the writing has improved from chapter to chapter. Stuff like the ilk line near the beginning of the first chapter bugged me a bit, mostly because I've never seen ilk used in that manner before. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't do that sort of thing on a regular basis lol. It's a minor quibble, anyway.

I find it tough to write action sequences, as well. It's hard to capture basic actions in writing without making them look completely stupid. I think that you did an admirable job with it in this latest chapter.

[Arcadia]

[quote name='Blackjack']The mouth was open in a bestial grin that was all teeth and no humanity. [/quote]
[size=1]Awesome line. ^__^

[quote name='Blackjack']This one took me much longer than the others. I still don't feel a hundred percent happy with it: I'm not sure how well some of the characterisation comes across, and I don't think I'm that great at writing action/combat sequences. I think in hindsight I should maybe have left some of this chapter out and put it in the next one, or not tried to introduce so many new characters in one go. I'm happier with the beginning than the end, too.[/quote]
When you've got a lot of characters that you want to write in and it's the first time they've really been introduced, it's hard to get their personalities across so that each one seems like an individual in the scene, rather then just part of the ensemble... if that makes sense to you. I always try and keep my focus on one character and his or her perceptions of the other people. They may or may not be true but it does help to give the reader a solid idea of what they're like. That's just my style, though. Characterization and development aren't easy, and sometimes it just takes me a while before I feel like I've got it the way I want it.

I did like your descriptions of the shells and the battle scenes, though. Mechs always seem like they'd be some of the more difficult things to imagine but you did a pretty good job of explaining how they work and move and that. And I think most people are familiar enough with shows like Gundam or Evangelion to be able to imagine any kind of mecha fight scene. ^_^;

Another good chapter, huzzah.[/size]

[Baron Samedi]

[size=1]What on Earth are you worried about with your writing? You set the scene well, your characterisation is well above par, your action sequences as well as your slower areas are all written to a high degree of quality.... you have nothing to be woried about. Excellent writing. I can visualise exactly whats going on, even though I only know the bare basics of it. I can get a feel for the location, and thats important. You're a damn good writer too, so don't beat up on yourself. Keep it up.[/size]

[Raiyuu]

[size=1][color=Navy][b]Journal 0.4: Gale Force[/b]

Now the wind was really howling, and at sea level Wren felt more like he was flying through undulating foothills than skimming over the ocean; except, of course, that the foothills constantly rolled and shifted, rising up out of nowhere only to become a deep valley in the next instant. His shell, like Fox?s and Violet?s, was currently fitted with an aerial-combat booster array, and if he were submerged, the water would clog the exhausts and he?d simply sink to the seabed, useless until someone with a scanner and tow cable picked up his positioning beacon and rescued him. He couldn?t afford an accidental plunge wetside at a time like this; especially when he was not only fighting the enemy, but trying to protect his own.

The first AZG unit she?d latched onto, after screaming into the skirmish zone in her brand-new white shell, the only direct-brain-contact interface model in existence, hadn?t stood a chance. Like Wren and Violet, AZG still used the double control column system, and the spidery machine?s pilot was simply unable to react in time to a unit that now essentially[/color][/size][size=1][color=Navy] [i]was[/i] [/color][/size][size=1][color=Navy] its wearer?s own body. She?d carved a gaping gash into its right side before pirouetting in midair and savagely hacking off both its arms, all before the beleaguered pilot could draw a bead on her.

But finally, after losing five of their seven-man squad, the AZGs had decided to break from academy tactics and split off from one another. One was drawing her off, allowing her to smash chunks off its thicker thoracic armour with her massive curved claws, while his squad mate backed off to a safe enough distance that he could take accurate aim.

[i][b]This is exactly what I knew would happen,[/b][/i] Wren raged silently to himself as he rocketed between spiky wavecrests towards the hovering black shell. [i][b]She?s running on pure adrenaline. She?s finding the ability to move again exhilarating. She?s taking out all her fury on them. And she isn?t concentrating.[/b][/i]

As he rolled and jinked between waves, he saw the AZG?s assault-rifle starting to spool up. The dirty silver ammo-belt, leading from the storage areas in its thorax to the arm-mounted weapon, began to jerk and vibrate as round after round fed through it, and the six chambers behind the main barrel started to chug slowly round, rotating gradually up to speed.

[i][b]Not likely,[/b][/i] Wren said to himself as he pitched and fired his booster straight downwards, appearing out of the treacherous hills and valleys of the sea and popping up behind the insectoid machine like a jack-in-the-box.

With the waves no longer shielding him, the other pilot picked him up on radar. The rival pilot was panicking to fire his manoeuvring thrusters and twist himself around in midair when Wren centred his crosshair on the weak armour at his shoulder and squeezed his right trigger.

The impact rifle?s barrel slammed backwards into its pneumatic recoil damper and shards of metal scythed away from the AZG?s shoulder as the projectile smashed it apart. The assault-rifle managed to reel off two pathetic, off-target rounds before the arm came away completely, the sunflower clamp?s hooked arms shattered, bent and ruined. The arm dangled from its ammo-belt, clanging against the shell?s leg like an erratic bell pendulum.

As soon as he knew his shot was away and on target, Wren briefly killed his thrusters, dropping once more into the ragged landscape of sheer slopes and foaming white horses. But his opponent had seen him now, and crippled or not, it gave chase.

[/color][/size] [center][size=1][color=Navy]~~~~~~~~~~~~[/color][/size]
[/center]
[size=1][color=Navy]
Wren?s face appeared in the greying sky on Violet?s Head-Up Display, just as the white shell?s final opponent fell, exposed wiring spitting sparks, into the deeps.

[b]?Violet! One on my tail, on the edge. I?m at your ten.?[/b]

Violet grinned as she yawed twenty degrees left in mid-flight, tilting down and opening the throttle to speed towards Wren?s approximate position. She and Wren had always lorded it over Fox that they, and not he, had the skill and dexterity to pilot ?on the edge,? the borderline between wetside and skyside, and it was just like Wren to fly that way even in these conditions. He loved to challenge himself, always pushing the limits of his talent and straining to improve. It was what gave him an edge against the conservative AZG pilots: that he could exert himself that way without ever tipping over into the heady realms of recklessness.

She watched the troughs as they skimmed down her HUD; neither shell would appear on her limited radar in these conditions, so she was relying on a visual sighting to confirm Wren?s location. Pulling one of the three triggers on her left control stick, she deployed three temporary radar reflectors from the rack on her shell?s back; the compact cubes launched high into the air, folding out and expanding into large, paper-thin square mirrors that hung, gently descending, on polymer parachutes. They allowed her radar sweep to reflect down into the crazy maze of peaks and troughs, potentially revealing what lurked down there.

Two blips flickered briefly. Violet adjusted course to intercept them.

As she got directly over the two, she saw that the enemy pilot wasn?t surviving on fluke alone. She could tell he?d flown on the edge before; he jinked around suddenly rearing walls of water almost as deftly as Wren did, never falling for any of her friend?s tricks; Wren would deliberately accelerate into a rising wave, pulling up at the last instant to bunny-hop over it, but his pursuer would slew around the obstacle with precision she hadn?t known was possible from the disproportioned AZG models.

Matching speed with the chase, Violet fired a homing beacon straight ahead of herself. It dropped directly into the path of the shell chasing Wren, clamping magnetically to the smooth space between the shoulders, where human aesthetic instincts naturally expected a head but the designers hadn?t provided one.

[b]?Fox! How?s your ammo reserve??

?You know I always keep one back for you, darlin?.?
[/b]
Violet gritted her teeth and swallowed the stream of vitriol that threatened to spew between her lips. [b]?Let this guy have it. He?s all lit up for you.?[/b]

And then time seemed to slow, as she saw events unfold beneath her, on the edge. Unfolding from the undamaged side of Wren?s pursuer, like a spider reaching out a curled-up, play-dead leg, was a manipulator arm. An image flashed across her vision, of a black AZG shell ripping off one of her limpet mines and throwing it back at her like a discus, and then it was repeating in front of her as the jointed fingers of the manipulator grabbed the magnetic beacon and began to tug.

[b]?Fox! Fox, do you read? Abort, Fox, abort last request! Keep it, man! Keep it!?

?What the hell for, honey? He?s lit up, right??
[/b]
Violet?s mouth and throat dried out and grew cacti as she saw the beacon arc through the air and attach itself with a clank to the leg of Wren?s shell.

[b]?Fox, this is important! Have you or have you not fired??

?Course I have. You know I?ll follow your orders to the letter ??
[/b]
She cut off the comm channel with the infuriating man.

[b]?Wren, you have incoming!?[/b]

[/color][/size] [center][size=1][color=Navy]~~~~~~~~~~~~[/color][/size]
[/center]
[size=1][color=Navy]
[b]?Repeat, you have incoming!?[/b]

There was an alert flashing red in the corner of Wren?s HUD, telling him a missile marker beacon was attached to his unit. Emergency combat doctrine dictated that the correct course of action was to take a dive wetside; the rockets on missiles didn?t work any better underwater than the thrusters on a shell, so he?d be safe. But emergency combat doctrine had been written by company bureaucrats overly concerned with keeping their expensive heavy equipment in one piece.

Wren pulled up abruptly and shot straight up in the air before arcing over backwards and twisting around, ending up behind his pursuer and moving fast in the opposite direction.

Even at full speed, the shell was still too large to outrun a missile, and red telltales began to appear on the periphery of Wren?s HUD, giving him the position of his incomings. The radar also told him that his admirer from AZG had pulled a U-turn and was coming back after him.

Wren let the missiles close further. When the telltales around his HUD began to flash and the proximity alarm whooped around his cockpit, he pitched upwards and released one control stick just long enough to slam his fist down on the shatterglass panel that protected the emergency evasive throttle, allowing him a final extra burst of acceleration. Pilots were told not to use the emergency throttle because prolonged use could cause a catastrophic overheat, that was why they put it under glass, but if there was one situation in which that bit of extra speed was essential, Wren reckoned this was it.

The exhaust from his thrusters seared white-hot as he exploded vertically into the sky. Nine vapour trails curved gently upwards on an intercept course, but he?d already angled down again and was accelerating at a suicidal rate towards the black surface of a tempestuous deep.

An instant before he smacked into the bottom of a shadowy trough, Wren cut his boosters completely and fired his forward manoeuvring thrusters on full blast, braking so suddenly that he was thrown forwards into his diagonal flight seat restraints. Repositioning deftly, he opened up the thruster array back to maximum and skimmed the edge like he?d never done before, testing his reaction times to the limit, rolling, pitching and yawing to avoid crags and peaks that he sensed rather than saw.

Three of the deceptively fragile-looking white missiles hit the water following Wren?s death dive, clouds of bubbles marking the spot where their miniature rocket engines started throwing out exhaust into water instead of air.

Wren banked hard left, rolling crazily, to avoid a sudden giant rolling, pregnant mass of water. He was operating entirely on instinct now, and the roll was almost uncontrolled, only the tiniest nudges and adjustments of the control columns demarcating his transcendent state of mind from madness.

Two more missiles were swallowed by the monster wave, emerging from the other side with motors guttering and dying before dropping, useless, into the trough behind.

Slamming right around a pinnacle of water, Wren suddenly found himself faced with the black AZG shell once again, emerging from behind the wave to plant itself right in his path. It was behaving strangely, hovering on the spot and spinning round and round so that the severed arm, still held only by its ammo-belt, swung around it like an Olympic hammer. Even as Wren shoved his controls forward to drop under it, the only path available to him, its pilot jettisoned the useless assault-rifle, flinging it towards him like some huge, unwieldy morning-star.

The makeshift projectile clipped Wren?s booster array as he dropped, before spinning into the cloud of missiles swarming after him. It hit one directly, and flying shrapnel from it sheared through another, prematurely detonating its warhead.

The chest of Wren?s shell was actually wetside now, his HUD filled with boiling grey water. He was flying [i]in[/i] the edge; his main booster array was clear of the surface but his forward manoeuvring thrusters would be useless until he could get back to the rig for maintenance. He passed beneath his adversary and popped up again behind him; the remaining two missiles, programmed to follow the shortest path to the beacon, tried to reach their target [i]through [/i]the black machine.

Wren breathed again. He decreased speed; he was coming dangerously close to overheating. He ascended skyside.

[b]?Violet??[/b]

Her face appeared on his HUD. She looked physically ill with concern.

[b]?Wren??? [/b] Her voice twisted, like she couldn?t get the words out.

[b]?I?m fine. No hostiles remaining. Repeat??[/b]

Something worrying was in Wren?s rear-view camera. With difficulty after losing half his manoeuvring jets, he turned his shell around.

The chase with the missiles and his opponent had taken him a long way from the rig. A long way in the direction the AZG shell squad had come from. The squat, hulking black shape of an AZG Enterprises Mobile Drilling Platform sat, sinister, in the centre of his HUD, silhouetted against the darkening sky. As he gaped at the sight, the entire rig became obscured by white vapour trails.

[b]?Oh, crap??


[/b][color=DarkGreen]This was a lot of fun to write, and I hope that translates into fun to read, too. Big thanks to everyone that's commented on my efforts here - the positive feedback is a huge confidence boost. They get longer every time; this one was a shade over four pages in Word. But you're into the story enough to read longer sections now, right?[/color]
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[Arcadia]

[size=1]This was easily the best chapter yet. Fantastic descriptions, especially with Wren flying "on the edge" before and after the missiles are shot at him. It was an incredibly easy scene to imagine because you wrote it so well, and it definitely kept me on the edge of my seat. Awesome work.

It'll be interesting to see how Wren gets out of this situation, too... or if he gets a little bit of help. ^_~[/size]

[Raiyuu]

[size=1][color=Navy][b]Journal 0.5: Eye[/b]

Soft leather hugged Yomiuri?s behind, but he was feeling far from comfortable. From what he could see, the rest of the Board were equally restless; every now and then a representative would open his or her mouth, about to start a conversation or just break the tension, but remember just in time the reason the room was silent in the first place.

At the head of the table was the Chairman?s seat. It was currently empty, waiting for its occupant to arrive. He liked to make the Board sweat before appearing to them. Against the wall, behind the luxuriantly padded executive leather swivel chair, was a plain plastic seat, the kind mass-produced for schools. In it was Rebecca Jade.

The Chairman?s personal bodyguard was slouching, cross-legged, absently flipping a slim silver medallion back and forth across the knuckles of her left hand. Her gaze ? the one eye that wasn?t obscured by her silken curtain of emerald-green hair ? swept the assembled representatives like the swooping green needle on a radarscope. Her black one-piece flight suit was unzipped to the bottom of her ribcage, and Yomiuri kept feeling his eye being drawn dangerously towards the crumpled white blouse and generous cleavage revealed therein. As her glance swept towards him again, the portly businessman fixed his stare firmly on the hands clasped, sweaty, in his lap. It wouldn?t do to be caught ogling Rebecca Jade.

When Research and Development had begun work on new shell-pilot interfaces, the green-haired woman had been first in line for any and all new innovations, by order of the Chairman. It had been Doherty, the project leader, that had taken it upon himself to convince the Chairman otherwise, not a task anybody envied him. Of course, now neither the Chairman nor Jade regretted trying out the technique on a guinea pig first; the Board was still getting stick from the poor girl?s Captain, God only knew how he?d got hold of the Chairman?s direct line number. Yomiuri could only guess at how many heads would have rolled in R&D if they?d paralysed Rebecca Jade.

It was a generally accepted, if unconfirmed, fact amongst Board members that Rebecca Jade and the Chairman were ? unprofessionally involved. That was why nobody dared speak. Piss off the Chairman?s woman, and the Chairman would, by association, be pissed off.

All eyes turned to the double doors next to which the bodyguard slouched as Kyrian Glover, the company Chairman, strolled into the Boardroom.

Physically and visually an uninspiring specimen, Glover nonetheless commanded the Board?s full attention. He looked uncomfortable and awkward in even an expertly tailored suit, and the executive swivel he carefully placed himself in seemed to swallow his slight frame whole, but his ruthlessness in business, and even in his personal affairs, was legend. He picked and chose his friends to lift himself higher up the ladders of power and was not above intimidation to ensure closure on his business deals. To this end he colluded with ? not hired, of course, that would be highly illegal ? a highly unpleasant character by the name of Kazuka, an unashamedly ex-Yakuza extortionist. Officially, Kazuka didn?t exist, and officially, Glover had never set eyes on him, and everybody in the upper echelons of the company and the world?s governments knew the official line was so much crap and there wasn?t a damn thing they could do about it.

Yomiuri had almost met Kazuka once before. He?d refused to make what the Chairman referred to as the ?correct? use of his casting vote concerning an important policy decision, and that night he?d happened to glance out of his window and see the ripped jeans, the blood-crimson bomber jacket, the shock of spiked red hair walking up to the apartment block to press the buzzer. He?d actually managed to telephone the Chairman and officially change his vote before the ex-Yak could reach his fourth-floor room; mere moments after he?d put the phone down he?d heard a single knock at his door interrupted by the chirruping of a mobile, followed by rapid, hushed Japanese and finally, as his heart threatened to smash through his ribcage, soft receding footsteps.

Since that night Yomiuri had become a yes man. The same as every other member of the Board.

Rebecca Jade clipped the silver medallion back onto the thin chain at her throat. Kyrian Glover leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table.

[b]?Gentlemen,?[/b] he said, [b]?let us begin.?
[/b]

[color=DarkGreen]Just a short chapter today; I thought I'd keep you in suspense about what happens next at sea :animeswea, and I wanted to introduce some of the more major bad guys, and a cutaway to another location seemed like the best way to kill two birds with one stone. Feedback and criticism is, as usual, appreciated. Back to the main story with the next instalment, don't forget to tune in![/color]
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[Leofski]

A weaker chapter than the previous offerings. I understand that it's meant to take it off the boil and be a bit different to the rest, but it doesn't feel connected to the rest. I also know your trying to be william gibson.