Fiction Activity Overview

Displaying fiction activity reports 7391 - 7400 of 13358 in total
Competition
The Word on the Street - Short Fiction
Submission
Nikora Rhan opted out of publishing her submission.
Competition
A day in the Life of...
File submission
Xendar Thendaris.docx
Textual submission

The sun was starting to rise over the horizon, as it cast small tendrils of light on the ground, a shadow of a figure starts to slowly appear on the ground. Changing its shape as it bent and shifted its form, flowing into the familiar forms of the Echani and Teris Kai martial arts. Finishing his martial arts practice, Xendar Thendaris slowly stood upright. Closing his eyes and reaching out with the force, he used it to grab his lightsaber, which was some distance way resting on top of his jacket. Grabbing it out the air as it spun toward him. Hitting the activation stud, the blade ignited with a familiar snap-hiss. And for the next hour, Xendar continued to practice with his lightsaber.
After finishing his workout. Xendar made his way back to his dorm, he passed by several other house members. Calling out to them, he stopped to talk with them for a few moments before making his way back to his room. Stepping into his room, he made his way to the shower, stripping off the sweaty practice outfit, he stepped into the shower, turning on the water and letting the relaxing feel of the hot water flow over him.
After drying off and putting on some clean clothes, he grabbed his datapad from his desk and started out the door, making his way to the commissary. The commissary at this hour was abuzz with activity. Not being one for large crowds, Xendar made his selection for breakfast and made his way back outside. After finding a secluded spot, he sat down and began to eat as he read his datapad. With a growl of annoyance, he scrolled past the entries that he considered useless; until he found a letter from his parents. In it, they wrote they would be coming to visit sometime in the future and that they wanted to hear about how he was doing. The final part of the letter was from his mother who was wondering if he was ever going to get married and start a family. To which, Xendar gave a small chuckle. Looking down at his wrist chrono, he noticed the time. He needed to be at the local security force station in ten minutes, he had volunteered to play the part of an insurgent as part of an exercise to train new recruits in how to deal with insurgents. Collecting the leftover items from his breakfast and pocketing his datapad, Xendar set off for the security station.
After spending most of the day ambushing recruits and leading them on a wild goose chase through the countryside. Xendar allowed himself a small indulgence, grabbing a speeder and inviting the recruits who had been taking part in the exercise to join him. He made his way to a popular nightclub. Stepping inside, and walking up to the bar, he ordered his usual, a non-alcoholic beverage made with spices, milk, and local fruits. Taking his drink, he made his way through the crowds who were waiting for the main show to being. Taking a seat in the very back, Xendar noticed the recruits were sitting with him as well. Looking at them for a moment, he gave a shrug and waited for the show to start. He didn’t have to wait long. As a lone spotlight lit up the stage, the silhouette of a woman appeared. Oriyanna Rathelin, a tall woman with dark skin and platinum blonde hair, stood center stage wearing a simple red dress with a single white flower on it, as the curtain drew back. Looking over the crowd, and seeing Xendar there, she gave him a smile. Then, as the music started to play, she began to sing.
Back in his room later that night, Xendar sat at his desk going over the details of some work planned for the next day. He picked up the flower that was laying on his desk, he gave a small chuckle as he thought how the evening progressed after Oriyanna finished singing. Especially when she joined him at his table. The recruits nearly fell over themselves as they vied for her attention. But To no avail. Her interest was solely in Xendar. And as she left the table to back on stage, she gave Xendar the flower that she had been wearing that evening. Setting the flower back on his desk, he stifled a yawn as he stood up and walked over to his bed. Reaching up and grabbing a pad from the shelf over his bed, he settled down on his bed and began to read. It was one of his favorite stories; Darkness and the Light; The Legend of Revan and Bastila. After reading for a little while, he set the pad down and used the force to turn the lights off in his room as he settled down for the night.

Competition
[Odan-Urr] A Small Layover
Submission
Nikora Rhan opted out of publishing her submission.
Competition
[Odan-Urr] A Small Layover
Textual submission

Revak Kur
12656

A Small Layover

Revak slowly walked down the ramp of his Lambda class shuttle and quietly made his way down the long corridors of Pharos station. He could hear the joy and excitement of the other members of the Clan off in the distance but chose not to partake in any of the festivities. Not just yet. He handles war well but gets drained after long deployments. He needs his time to relax and unwind. Revak made his way to his chamber and pressed his keycard against the security pad. It beeped at him but didn’t open. Tired and aggravated, he leaned his head against the door in defeat.

“Why doesn’t anything work around here?” he mumbled to himself.

He could open the keypad and tinker with the locking mechanism but chose not to. Instead he thinks of another place he could sit and rest. Pharos station, while being a military outpost did have a small garden area people could go that was peaceful. Chances are it was occupied. He reached under his robes and pulled out his comlink.

“Kur to Maintenance.”

“Maintenance on, go ahead.”

“I'm locked out again.”

“... okay, sending someone down.”

Moments later a human male approaches. He looked just as tired as Revak, worn out from long hours of repairs.

“This one seems to be getting the best of us, eh?” the man said jokingly to break the tension.

Revak struggled to smile slightly at the man’s statement. He didn’t want to be rude to the tired man but he just couldn’t muster enough energy for anything more.

After a couple minutes of the man tinkering with the keypad; the door opened.

“There you go Sir, I’ll be around in case you need anything.”

Revak thanked the man then walked inside. He tossed the comlink on the bed. The door slammed behind him.

In the room were a few personal items. Moving around as much as the House does, he tries to keep only what he needs with him so he can quickly pack up and head out again. The room has a bed, a locker for supplies, a computer kiosk, and a particularly comfortable chair that he stole from one of the other chambers when he was first stationed here. He could sit in it for hours and time would just pass by. He walked over to it, ran his hand over the soft leather arm and sat down. He closed his eyes and was lost in his mind.

Memories of the war appeared to him first. Moments that stood out. People that he encountered. Especially those who he would never see again. Sadness began to radiate through him. His body sank in the seat. The screams of the civilians. The hissing of lightsabers and blaster bolts. The explosions that silenced them all.

In his mind he gathered himself and his thoughts began to drift in another direction. He began to look back at all the decisions he made. Critique his actions. He viewed failure as a learning experience but it still pained him to make mistakes. This is why he favored quiet reflection over immediate celebration. He could look back and see where he could have made other choices. Possibly saving more lives. Lives that he would not have to blame himself for losing. This sadness that he felt, he never showed anyone. He kept it hidden especially from those under his command. Not that he was ashamed of it, just that he had to maintain an image of strength to help propel his command forward. He cleared his mind to allow these feelings to take hold of him. To bask in the darkness that these emotions bring.

*Bing!*

Revaks concentration broke as his comlink notified him of an incoming message. He reached out with the Force, took hold of the comlink and placed it on his lap before answering it.

“Revak, get out of your head and come celebrate.” his Aedile Tisto shouted obnoxiously loud so he could be heard over the loud music in the background.

Revak took a second to get back into the present before he responded, “Yeah, I’ll be down in a second.”

He stood up, fixed his robes then walked back over to the door. Instead of opening for him it let out two loud beeps.

He let out a long sigh.

Competition
What goes around, comes around.
Textual submission

Major Hector Ricmore
Clan Vizsla Immobilizer-418 Class Heavy Cruiser
Zsoldos System, Wild Space

A lone figure walked through the hallway, a jaunty tune spilling from his lips. The tune was interrupted by the sharp Clack! Clack! Of armored footsteps. He moved at a steady pace, in no rush to arrive at his destination despite his jovial mood. The crew members of the ship granted him a respectful berth, in part due to his rank, but mostly due to his reputation for being an eccentric if effective officer.

Hector Ricmore, Major of the Iron Legion, was quite pleased. His commission and battlefield promotion had allowed him to afford a new ship, the new A Wing variant currently being utilized by the Resistance in their fight against the First Order. Having a newer vessel was quite exciting for the Pilot, after utilizing an ancient YT-1300 and dealing with the temperamental prototype of the TIE Advanced V1.

The Zygerrian could not help but break out into a smirk as he gazed upon his vessel. 7.68 meters long, with a central cockpit within the long wedge shape. 1 laser canon was attached to each side, with a pair of missile launchers completing the armament. Painted metallic black, with purple stripes and sigils, the A Wing was both aesthetically pleasing and an impressive ship.

Hector settled into the cockpit of the vessel and began his preflight checks. He was pleased to note that the weapons were operational, engine functioning as normal, and the navigational computer had already been set for his trip to Arx. Turning on his on board comm unit he contacted the Immoblizer’s bridge. “Bridge control this is the Lament, are we clear for the test flight?”
The comm unit crackled in response. “You are clear, Godspeed Lament.”

The hangar doors opened wide, allowing the A wing to swiftly exit the capital ship. Hector activated the hyperdrive, the blackness of space replaced by rushing stars. Reaching down the Zygerrian grabbed his data pad, opening his chronometer and setting an alarm for when he would arrive. Trusting in his hyperdrive to get him to his destination he settled down to sleep.

Some Time Later

The shrill ringing of his alarm roused Hector Ricmore from his rest. Blinking drowsily he shut off the alarm before gazing outside his vessel, where stars continued to pass by at an alarming rate.
“...What.” The Zygerrian mumbled in confusion, he should have reached Arx by now.
“Are you working properly?” He questioned, inspecting his data pad. The chronometer appeared accurate and he could not seem to find any fault with the device. “The ship itself then? I swear if I bought defective junk for this price.” The Zygerrian began the process of once again inspecting his ship. Engine working fine, weapons operational, shields online. With growing horror, he looked at his nav computer. “Don’t tell me. Not this. Not the only time I let someone on my ship.”

A thorough inspection of the Nav computer proved those fears to be true. The set course for Arx had merely been a static screen programmed by a slicer, the vessel had actually been set to reach Nar Shadda. Traveling to the Outer Rim was a longer journey than moving between the two set points in Wild Space, causing the discrepancy in Hector’s alarm.

The pilot chuckled. “A sabotaged Nav computer? That’s fine. I was actually worried that we had a technician so incompetent that they could not program a Nav computer properly.” A smirk spread across his lips “This is turning into quite the adventure”

Picking up his datapad he began to sketch out a route back to Zsoldos from Nar Shaddaa. “Let’s see what happens” Hector assured himself.

A Few Days Later

Lament, Cry of the Stars dropped out of hyperspace in front of Nar Shaddaa. Debris ringed the cesspool of a planet, interspersed by the occasional vessel, no doubt up to some nefarious or criminal task.

Hector’s eyes narrowed when he saw some of these vessels approaching; an Aurore Class freighter flanked by 2 HH-87 Starhoppers. Were these ships in league with the saboteur who sliced into his ship?

His comm unit crackled to life. “Hector Ricmore of The Dark Jedi Brotherhood, you have amassed quite a bounty upon yourself. Surrender now and we will make your death quick and painless. Choosing to resist will only prolong your agony. We do hope you pick the second one, it’s been a while before my boys and I had some fun.”

Not bothering to dignify that with a response Hector pushed the A Wing full throttle towards the freighter. Pshew Pshew Pshew! The A wing fired its laser canons. “Wait for it” Hector muttered to himself as he rapidly closed the distance between himself and the enemy vessels; who currently began to return fire. The A wing dipped and dived, avoiding the oncoming blaster fire.

The distance between the ships decreased until Hector could see the pilot within the Freighter. “NOW!” He thought as he fired the proton torpedos aboard his ship, replacements to the usual missiles carried by such a vessel.

Hector pushed his flight stick forward, turning on its ion afterburner for additional speed. The Zygerrian was thrown back into his seat from the sudden acceleration, gripping his flight stick with gritted teeth as he tried to retain some semblance of control over his ship. A sudden shockwave ran through his entire ship and sent a shiver down Hector’s spine. “I’ll take that was a success then.” The Zygerrian said aloud.

He spun his vessel around to deal with the HH-87 Starhoppers. Charred wreckage filled his vision, the freighter and starhoppers reduced to slag floating through space.
Hector’s jaw dropped. “Proton Torpedos alone should not have carried enough of a blast to destroy all three ships. What on earth was that?”
He hadn’t yet targeted the Starhoppers so it was doubtful it was anything involving them.

“The ships nav was sabotaged, could the saboteur have gotten to the torpedo’s as well? But that makes no sense, why would a saboteur bother doing something that could increase my firepower and my chances of escaping the bounty hunters?”

That left the Freighter than. “...were the hunters carrying something unstable aboard? Did they actually expect to win an engagement while carrying something explosive?”
Putting his helmet into his hand Hector gave a sigh at the sheer stupidity he had encountered.

“Hopefully Declan can help me sort this all out. I’m certain he has contacts over at the bounty office.” Hector flipped on his nav computer and set his course for Zsoldos, triple checking that the course was accurate this time.
“Let’s head home Lament.”

Competition
What goes around, comes around.
File submission
The_Hunted.pdf