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Darkest Secrets—Story Contest

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Cozmic

Cozmic

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"Just asking for clarification: We are to write a story concerning a secret(s) being revealed?"
I've just posted the full prompt. You are also free to write a story about a secret being hidden away.

05-Jun-2012 03:38:52

Chosen Worf

Chosen Worf

Posts: 929 Gold Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
~ Arria's Call ~
"We couldn't have done anything else, Captain. Don't stress yourself about it."
Captain Arnault lifted his tear-streaked face out of his hands to look with red-rimmed eyes at the holoprojector in front of him.
"I respectfully disagree, Commander," Arnault said haltingly, a thick lump lodged in his throat. "They were all innocents down there. Women! Children!"
"All aliens, Captain," Commander Gyger replied, in a restrained voice. "They were not going to listen to negotiations; and the hostage situation put an... alternate solution out of our reach. But it is done now."
Gyger's care-worn, matronly face then softened, seeing that the distraught Captain was not going to be easily consoled. "I know it's hard, having to do something like that. Sometimes we just have to make the hard decisions."
Arnault clamped his jaw, cheek muscles bulging as his shock began to morph into anger. "In this case it was the wrong decision. Good day, Commander."
Gyger looked at Arnault for a second more, then said, "One more thing. Destroy all of the ship's records of this incident. Command doesn't want this leaking to the press."
Arnault nodded, gave a quick salute to the screen, and terminated the link. He leaned back in his ornate captain's chair, rubbing his stubbly face. Then he shifted forward, opened a compartment in the right arm of the chair and pressed a small red comm-link button.
"Computer, get me a drink. And make it something strong."
A speaker on the ceiling of the cramped comm-room beeped in acknowledgement, and soon a maintenance drone opened the door and wheeled in with a glass of whiskey. The drone left after carefully delivering its charge, and Arnault followed soon behind, whiskey firmly clasped in his hand.
He wandered up to the bridge, silently passing deckhands in the narrow, pipe-lined corridors. The shadows the pipes cast on the weavesteel walls seemed even deeper than usual. A somber mood had settled on the battleship.

05-Jun-2012 05:20:02 - Last edited on 26-Jun-2012 15:11:18 by Chosen Worf

Chosen Worf

Chosen Worf

Posts: 929 Gold Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Arnault eventually stepped into the Bridge, a massive circular room at the forefront of the ship. Even compared to the starships of the day, it was a powerful display of intellimetric computation at its finest: banks of screens lined the lower deck, attended by highly-trained engineers who were connected to their charges by thick fiber-optic cables that ran from the bases of their skulls. A few feet above the lower deck, massive plasma screens looked out into the vacuum of space, and framed in that vacuum lay the source of Captain Arnault's troubles: Arria.
Arria had once been a thriving planet. It was surprisingly Earth-like, with a breathable atmosphere, navy-blue oceans, and a few scattered continents. It had had a thriving indigenous population of natives, who had achieved a level of civilization that historians had compared to that of 21st Century humans. They had at first welcomed humans when the fleets of Armada battleships swept through on exploratory missions; however, as human interference with their political and social structure became more and more apparent, they began to resist.
Arnault took a deep gulp of whiskey, remembering the past week. The Arrian resistance had begun to resort to drastic measures: namely, bombing the Confederacy of Humanity's planetary consulate and demanding that humans leave the Arrian system. When the molasses-like Confederate bureaucracy failed to return a reply, the resistance took the Confederate ambassador hostage to try to force the issue. Then the Armada stepped in.
Now, Arria was a smoking, wrecked wasteland, torn apart by the Interplanentary Termination Laser that had sundered the planet's crust from pole to pole.
Arnault could still hear the whirring of the laser's coolant fans deep in the bowels of his ship.

05-Jun-2012 05:46:47 - Last edited on 26-Jun-2012 15:16:26 by Chosen Worf

Chosen Worf

Chosen Worf

Posts: 929 Gold Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
He took another swig of whiskey.
Then, walking over to a small pedestal, he pulled up a transparent blue screen. There, written out in softly glowing type was the ship's summary of the past week's events: the bombing, the kidnapping, Arria's final destruction. Arnault scrolled down the screen with a flick of his index finger, scanning the contents as he went. All of the important details seemed to be there. Then, at the bottom of the file, something caught his eye: another link to a new file. He opened it, and at the top of the screen the title flashed:
PLANET 0632199754 (ARRIA): CIVILIZATION, SOCIETY, HISTORY
And below it,
STATUS: Termination Pending
A fresh tear rolled down Arnault's cheek, despite the strong whiskey. Then he swiped forcefully across the screen, dismissing the document, and a new query appeared.
- DELETE THE SELECTED DOCUMENTS? -
Arnault opened his mouth to give the affirmation command; but no sound ensued, blocked off by his constricted throat. He paused, thought for a second, then downed the rest of his drink.
"Computer," he said, this time in a strong voice. "Send a copy of the selected documents to Michael Bates, at address code IGN-30632-6."
"That is a civilian code, sir," the computer replied.
"I know, Computer," Arnault replied with no hesitation.
"People need to see this."
~ End ~

05-Jun-2012 06:07:31 - Last edited on 05-Jun-2012 18:16:43 by Chosen Worf

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