StarFlight Six - Part 1The first clue that something was terribly wrong aboard StarFlight Six was the emergency klaxons sounding throughout the merchant vessel. Their piercing sound roused fifteen-year-old Kyle Mitchell from a particularly pleasant dream about that girl he had met last time the ship had made port. "What now?" He groaned, shielding his eyes from the flashing red lights as he sat up. The ship rocked violently, pitching side to side and throwing him from his bunk on to the metal deck plating. There was a beeping and the communicator on his wrist started vibrating. Quickly, he glanced down and read the display. "All crew Code 13." Kyle stared at the display for several seconds as its meaning sank in. "Shiv, we're under attack."
Another jolt spurred him into action. He grabbed his pants and shirt from off the floor and hurriedly pulled them on. They were still dirty from his last duty shift and he was in bad need of a shower; somehow though he didn't think anyone would mind given the alert
Scion - Part 1
With glowing red eyes, the wolfspawn slowly stalked down the darkened corridor, sniffing at the air. "Come out little boy, I know you're in here. I can smell you." The creature's gravelly voice echoed through the abandoned apartment building, it's six-foot form nearly filling the width of the rubbish-filled corridor. Suddenly his quarry, a teenage boy in ragged clothes, burst out of one the rooms and began running down the corridor. He was clutching his arm, blood trickling from between his fingers. Baring its fangs in a smile, the wolfspawn began running after him, its paws pounding on the floor; the hunt was on.
The boy darted down the corridor, leaping over obstacles and gaps in the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the wolfspawn was rapidly gaining ground. He appeared to change his mind, instead of continuing to run towards the stairwell, he jumped through a hole in the plasterboard walls into one of the apartments. The wolfspawn followed
Cameron Henderson - ProfileMy name's Cam, I'm sixteen years old and the son of Ares. You know, the Greek God of war? Don't look at me like that, I 'aint tripping and I 'aint crazy. Although sometimes I wonder.
Up until four years ago, my life was pretty normal. I was born in Northern California, and my birth name was Dylan Smith. My mom died soon after I was born. Complications from giving birth is what they told me. In other words, "sorry kid, looks like you killed your mom on the way out." Since no one knew who my dad was (funny that) or how to get in contact with him, I got put into care. I grew up in a care home, one big revolving door for unwanted kids. Kids from broken homes, kids without homes, kids with issues; you know, kids like me. Some of 'em only stayed for a short time, either stuff got sorted out at home enough for them to go back or they got fostered out or adopted. Not me though; I guess even back then, people could tell there was something different about me. I spent twelve years in
Dragonstar - 08For the second time in less than a day, Trace awoke in the ships medbay. This time however, he wasnt handcuffed to the beds side rail and he didnt have Tsukiko leaning over him, inadvertently giving the teenage boy a clear view down her top. If she had noticed his embarrassed stammering and red-faced nervousness, she had tactfully decided not to comment on it. At least this time he was fully clothed.
He sat up in the bed, wincing at the grenade-like explosion of pain in his head that the movement caused. The bright overhead lights made the pain worse as he squinted. Trace clutched the side of his head and felt the presence of a bump where his head had struck the cockpit window. He cursed himself over his stupidity. Forgetting to fasten the safety harness, how could he have made such a rookie mistake?
Opposite the bed was a large window running the full length of the medbay. Normally it would provide an impressive view of the space outside the ship, but right now
Kam - BackstoryBorn into a small tribe of shifters (a race descended from Lycanthropes who have better control of their shifting and do not spread the "infection") in the Eldeen Reaches, Kam spent his early childhood in a village deep within the forests. As the Last War raged elsewhere in Khorvaire, the Black Talon Tribe was mostly untouched by the war. Kam filled his days with fishing, playing with his friends and exploring the woods around the village. Kam was an only child and was very close to his parents. His father, the village chief was very protective of his son.
His uncle was jealous of his brother's position as village chief but did not have the support to move against him. But he was patient, perfectly able to bide his time and wait for the right moment to strike.
Towards the end of the war, the fighting began to move towards the borders of the Reaches. The villages warriors left to join the other villages in order to repel the invaders. To comfort his son who was worried that his fa
Dragonstar - 07Part 07
Trace scanned the controls trying to hide how much he was impressed. Rotational control thrusters, multi-vector tactile control sticks, holographic heads-up display, is that an overburn supercharger? Nice. There were a few controls he didnt recognise though; like the arcane oscillator, his grandfathers old dropship hadnt had one of those, neither did any of Dorgas shuttles. Still, the layout was identical just as he said it would be; he could do this.
Grasping the twin control sticks, Trace felt the ship respond to his command. Compared to a jumpcraft or one of Dorgas shuttles, the Chimera was a lumbering giant. Looking at the readouts though, he could tell that the Chimera was faster in straight-line flight.
Stop drooling over the controls and get with it! Korodos voice focused his attention back on Dorgas shuttles. Remembering how his grandfather had shown him, Trace jabbed at the holographic controls and brought up
An Unlikely Hero - Issue 5Todd cursed as another wave of Zombie Ninja's stormed the barricades. Glancing at the ammo counter, he saw that his weapon was almost empty. At this rate, they would breach the compound and overrun the small group of defenders within minutes.
"I'm out!" A J called out over the headset. His friend was in one of the watchtowers manning its turret-mounted machine gun. A J jumped out of the turret and switched back to his assault rifle, using the under slung grenade launcher to send a barrage of frag grenades into the enemy. Explosions ripped through their ranks, shredding the undead horde. It was never going to be enough though, there were just too many of them. Then, just as he was about to give up, he heard a cracking voice over the radio.
"November six-three-six incoming, prepare for evac."
"Fall back!" Todd said over the sounds of gunfire, "Protect the helipad." The soldiers retreated from the wall and surrounded the helipad at the centre of the compound. Almost immediately, the Zombi