EV/EVO Chronicles: Seeds of Rebellion: Chapter 1 part 2

**This is the part just after the last post of the story. If you haven't read it, go (url="http://"http://www.AmbrosiaSW.com/cgi-bin/ubb/newsdisplay.cgi?action=topics &number;=20&forum;=EV/EVO+chronicles&DaysPrune;=100&article;=000217&startpoint;=40")here(/url) for the Introduction and (url="http://"http://www.AmbrosiaSW.com/cgi-bin/ubb/newsdisplay.cgi?action=topics&number;=20&forum;=EV/EVO+chronicles&DaysPrune;=50&article;=000226&startpoint;=40")here(/url) for the first part of Chapter One.

The next morning, Raiken got out of bed and dressed in his captain's uniform. He quickly got his things together and left the hotel. After he got some breakfast, he proceeded to the prison building on the other side of town via hover cab. He arrived at the prison promptly at eight o'clock, just thirty minutes before the next interrogation.

He decided to talk to Lieutenant Davis. He went into the main lobby and asked the clerk if Davis was presently in the building. She smiled, and gave him a security clearance card and told him the directions to Davis' office. Raiken walked down a long hallway filled with doors leading to other offices. There were lights on the walls, and the whole hallway was white. He reached the end of the hallway and took a right down another hall. He finally reached Davis' office, and politely knocked on the grayish-blue metal door.

"Come on in." Raiken heard Davis' muffled invitation through the door.

Raiken entered, and sat in a chair in front of Lieutenant Davis' large, metal desk. Davis was lying back in his chair, with his hands holding the back of his head and his feet on top of a stack of papers that was six inches tall. He had stacks of paper scattered about all over his desk, almost completely concealing the actual desk from view. Not the most orderly guy, Raiken thought to himself, seeing the mess that was Davis' office. He was obviously a laid-back kind of guy, with no since of neatness or of deadline. He probably doesn't even notice all those papers, or if he does, he probably doesn't care enough about them to do anything, Raiken thought.

Davis himself was a man small in stature but very muscular. His face was almost square with a muscular jaw-line that was loosely shaved. He had his officer's cap on, with the Confederate insignia on the front, and had it positioned on his head in such a way that he could hide his deep green eyes by tilting his head downward slightly. Despite his tough appearance, he was quite humorous, and despite his sense of humor, he was quite ill tempered. He had his Confederate uniform on, with his large black boots sitting on the desk.

"The interrogation doesn't start for another twenty-five minutes." Davis said to Raiken, wondering about his sudden appearance in his office.

"Yes, I know. I just wanted to come by and see how things were doing." Raiken said, taking another look around the office. "Or maybe I just came down to see this wonderful office." he continued with a smile.

"Yeah, it could use some cleaning. I'm just too lazy to do it myself." replied Davis.

"That's why I live on a ship." Raiken replied. "I'm not entitled to do much cleaning."

"Well I never really liked space travel. I get motion sickness. And then it gets messy, if you know what I mean." Davis told Raiken. "That's why they stationed me here." he continued, "I need to have two feet on solid earth."

There was a moment of silence, and then Davis took his feet off his desk and stood up.

"I was just about to catch some breakfast before the interrogation. You can come with me if you want." Davis said, rubbing his stomach with both hands.

"No thanks." Raiken replied, then changing his mind said, "I've already had breakfast, but I suppose I shall come with you."

"Ahh-That's good. I was beginning to think that I was going to have to eat breakfast alone. Once we're done we can meet the other officers in the interrogation room." Davis said as he stood up and put on his uniform coat and adjusting his cap. The two left his office, and headed back down the same hallways that Raiken had come down towards the lobby.

When they reached the lobby, they went through a plastic-feeling double door, and ended up in a giant cafeteria. Though it was huge, it wasn't very full. Only a few tables had people sitting at them, and none of them were completely filled up.

Raiken followed Davis into the small line of people being served by the cafeteria workers. Davis ordered some eggs, a saugage, and a biscuit. He also ordered a glass of orange juice. Raiken stared at the glass for a moment, and after a slight pause, ordered some for himself.

"Do you have a particular interest in orange juice?" Davis asked him.

"No, It's just that I haven't had this since I was a child." Raiken replied, taking a sip of the juice, "Oh that's good. Even better than I remember it."

"I have never in all my life seen someone take to orange juice like that." Davis said, "I just drink it because I need the vitamins."

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to have to order some of this to be put on the Liberation before we leave."

"Suit yourself." Davis replied, and the two walked over to an empty table and sat down.

"Sometimes I keep forgetting how much of a luxury it is down here." Raiken said looking around the room in a dreamy manner.

"Well, we do have our problems on Earth, and any other planet for that matter. We have floods, hurricanes, earthquakes, drought, and other things like pollution." Davis replied, trying to make it seem like planetary life wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He would give anything to be on a ship, and it appeared that Raiken would do the same to get off of one.

"I thought that pollution was mostly cleared up by the environmentally safe nuclear plants that were set up."

"Well it turns out that no kind of nuclear plants are environmentally safe," Davis replied, "and there's a crater the size of a city to prove it." he added.

"I see." Raiken replied. It was evident that he had missed quite a bit of news being when on patrol on the Confederation's western borders.

Davis proceeded to eat his breakfast, and Raiken sat thinking. He wondered what else he had missed out on since he last had a break on Earth.

"Lieutenant Davis, is there-anything else I've missed out on?" he said slowly.

"No. Not really. Things have been pretty unchanging around here, from a civilian point of view of course."

"That's good. I was starting to think that everything had changed since my last visit."

The two finished their breakfast about fifteen minutes before the interrogation began. As they were walking back down the hallways to the interrogation room, Raiken passed by a man in a Confederation officer's uniform. The man gave him a look that Raiken didn't like. He had a strange feeling about the man, but couldn't quite make out what that feeling was or why he had it. As they passed, the man stopped his gaze and continued walking down the hall as normal, but Raiken looked back over his shoulder and watched him walk off.

When they reached the interrogation room, many of the same officers that had been in the room as the last interrogation had already arrived. The prisoners had not arrived yet, so the officers had a moment to chat.

"Ah, Captain Raiken. So good to see you again." said a short, fat man by the name of Vice Admiral Tashka. He was in charge of Delta Fleet's 15th and 16th Fighter Squadrons, the Burning Devils.

Tashka was known for his attacks on Rebel outposts in the Southeastern sector of Confederate space. Although he gained the fame for these daring and sly raids, his chief tactician was the one who created all the battle schemes for the fleet. Tashka himself could no more create a good strategy than tie his shoes. The man had at least four chins, and it disgusted Raiken to even look at him.

"The same goes for me." Raiken replied in his most gracious tone, hiding his sarcasm as if he really meant what he said. "How is the prisoners' morale?"

"Fairly low." replied Admiral Wolov. "We've almost broken them." Wolov was a tall, stalwart man with a "dashing" mustache-as he liked to call it.

"So you believe that they will succumb to this interrogation?" Raiken asked.
"I think that this interrogation should be quite interesting."

"Indeed." Vice Admiral Tashka snorted. Raiken only crossed his arms.

"Ah, I'd almost forgotten." Tashka announced, pointing to a man standing by his side, "This is Captain Thomas."

The man extended out his hand to Raiken. "I don't believe we've met." he said, "Captain James Thomas, Burning Devils."

"Captain Harmond Raiken, Border Patrol, part of the Northwest Fleet." Raiken replied, taking the man's hand.

"Captain Thomas here is my best pilot. He was responsible for the destruction of the Triton Outpost." Tashka bragged. It was clear that he enjoyed doing so, and his fat almost rolled in anticipation.

"I've heard much about that attack. And I am half way across the galaxy. It is a pleasure to meet you." Raiken complimented.

"The pleasure is all mine." Thomas replied, "Your reputation precedes you, Captain Raiken."

"As does yours." Raiken replied modestly.

"So sorry to intrude upon your greetings," interrupted Admiral Wolov, "But I believe the prisoners have arrived."

As Wolov said the words everyone turned around to face the tinted glass panel. The prisoners were entering through the same door as before, guarded by the same guards as before.

Raiken noticed that the bloodstain from the day before had completely vanished, there was no trace of the rebellious prisoner left. The prisoners walked over to the same places that they had been before, and made a line. There was a gap where the dead prisoner had stood the previous day. Lieutenant Davis began the interrogation.

"Sleep well?" Davis asked sardonically.

The prisoners stood unmoved. They had weary faces, and looked like they just about couldn't move even if they wanted to.

"I'll take that as a no." Davis continued to mock the prisoners with scorn, "Well, let's begin. I'm sure you all are familiar with the incident yesterday? So, I'm assuming you know the consequences for actions regarding your behavior in this interrogation? Am I correct?"

Davis looked through the glass panel, expecting a unanimous nod of confirmation among the prisoners. He was merely answered with silence and an unmoving tension from the prisoners.

Davis enjoyed it. It seemed as if this time they would finally submit to giving him the information that he required. If this interrogation was successful, he was sure to be up for a promotion. And the fact that there was an Admiral present ensured future ranks.

Davis began again. "You were captured on the Rebel Cruiser, Zealous. Now, tell me- Just what were you doing?"

There was a few seconds of quiet. Davis was just starting to get angry when a prisoner began to speak. "We were doing a sweep of the system. We were just about to head to be refueled, when you-"

Davis quickly interrupted. He was starting to get the information he wanted. "Where were you going to be refueled?"

"We were going t-" The prisoner standing on his left hit him with a hard blow, knocking him back into the wall.

"You can't tell them anything you dirty piece of-" The guards were on the prisoner and restraining him, while simultaneously beating him to pulp.

The other prisoner slowly got to his feet, a little shaken up but otherwise fine. The blow from the other prisoner hit him in the middle of the cheek, a little higher and the man's knuckles would be in his cheek bone, a little lower and his fist would have broken his jaw. He rubbed the side of his face a while, before Davis began again.

"So where were you going to be refueled again?" he asked, insistent on getting the information he wanted.

The prisoner hesitated a moment. He didn't want to get another hit in the face, at least not by his own crewmates. "We-" he said, looking around a little, half-expecting to see another fist heading for his face. When he realized that no fist was coming at him, he continued. "We were heading for Ikeris."

It seemed that all this interrogation business was beginning to pay off. "I see. And tell me, where is this Ikeris?"

"It's- It's in Polaris." the prisoner said. The prisoner seemed to be getting uneasy.

"Be more specific." Davis replied.

"I-" the prisoner muttered. He was becoming more and more uneasy.

"You what?" Davis questioned the prisoner. He wasn't about to let the man break down now. Not after coming so close. The prisoner still wasn't answering him. "You what?" he persisted, speaking in a louder and more authoritative tone.

"I- I don't know." the man replied.

"You don't know what?" Davis asked. This was beginning to annoy him.
"I don't know where it is." the prisoner continued.

"Ikeris? You mean you don't know where Ikeris is?" Davis tried to confirm the prisoner.

The man gave a slight nod and readdressed himself. "I don't know where Ikeris is. We were supposed to be informed of the location upon arrival in the system."

"So you still don't know where it is?" The prisoner couldn't see it, but Davis was giving him a very bitter look.

The prisoner nodded. "Yes. That's all I know."

But Davis wasn't satisfied.

"Tell me where it is!" he demanded. "'I don't know' isn't good enough!"

"He said he doesn't know!" another prisoner cried. "None of us know where it is! It's bad enough that we've been captured and are betraying our fleet! So just go look in the Polaris system, if you want to find it so badly!"

"Watch your tongue, wretch!" Davis bellowed back, instructing the guards to restrain the prisoner. "If I want your opinion, I'll ask for it!"

The guards grabbed the man by the arms, and threw him against the wall. He hit it with a loud thud, and the two guards took turns punching him in the gut. With each upward strike, the man's feet came off the floor. Soon blood and saliva spattered out of his mouth. When the guards were done, they flung the battered prisoner onto the cement floor. The other prisoners only stood in horror.

Lieutenant Davis was clearly losing control. Admiral Wolov put a hand on Davis' shoulder. "Calm down there, Lieutenant." he said in a gentle and friendly tone. He spoke with a calmness, in which assurance sprang forth. It was as if he was like a father to Davis.

Davis turned quickly, and a little shocked. He was acting like a wounded animal, trapped in a corner with predators all around. Davis looked around the room quickly, his eyes darting from person to person. He was breathing heavily, apparently winded from his bellowing at the now beaten prisoner. "Sorry Admiral- Sir." he apologized after a moment, trying to regain his composure.

"Just watch that temper of yours, or pretty soon we won't have any prisoners to interrogate." the Admiral replied in the same soothing tone as before. "I've read your bio, and I know you have a little anger problem. We'll just have to find a way to work around it, won't we?"

"Yes, sir."

With that Davis turned back to the gruesome scene occurring beyond the glass panel in the interrogation room. Two prisoners were on the ground, both lying in a bloody mess. The one prisoner that had spoken and had not been beaten, was standing by himself now; isolated and alone between two dying, if not already dead prisoners. His hands were shaking, and his eyes wide as two full moons, looking downward at the two prisoners on the floor. He opened his mouth as if to speak, or cry out at all the injustices done to himself and his fellow crewmates. Perhaps it was to grieve for his stricken friends, or maybe even a curse to his captors, his- tormentors. But whatever the reason for doing so, he did not show it. He collapsed on the floor, mouth open, eyes wide and hands trembling, if only for a moment. As he struck the floor his eyes were closed and his hands still. He had fainted; apparently he could no longer take the stress of the interrogation and the merciless beatings.

Davis saw that it was about all that he could do for now. He figured soon everyone in that room would be on the floor if it kept up at the rate that it was going. Admiral Wolov also approved that it was time to end the interrogation. Davis turned the speaker system back on with the flip of a switch.

"That will be all we need of you for today. Now get in a line and the guards will lead you out." he said to the relief of all the standing prisoners. The sooner that they were out of the interrogation room, the better for their health it was. They obliged Davis' order and were soon in a single file line. The guards walked them slowly out of the room and back to their cells. Once they had all left, another cleanup crew came to take the battered prisoners to the infirmary, and the collapsed prisoner back to his cell. They then began to wash off the blood on the floor, working while the officers in the small room behind the mirror-like glass panel reflected on what was said and done.

Lieutenant Davis began looking around the room, half nervous and half expecting to be scolded by one of the senior officers. For a while no one spoke, everyone staring past the walls of the room, into some unknown place that no one else could see. They stood in silence, thinking of what they were going to say, seemingly undecided on whether to admonish or punish the lieutenant for his harsh and merciless actions against the prisoners.

Raiken thought he could faintly hear Tashka mumble. "Good riddance."

The captain Raiken had met before spoke first. "I think we got enough information out of them." he said trying his best to not admit the fact that the Davis had pushed them too hard. But still, they were only prisoners.

"I'd agree with that statement." Tashka agreed, obviously trying not to seem as stupid as he looked. "We should easily be able to find the location of this hidden Ikeris."

"Yes," Admiral Wolov said. "It shouldn't be too hard to find a station in a system. We could send in sensor ships to check out the area. And if all else fails, we could detonate EMP charges."

Raiken was still in deep thought, pondering over the events that had just occurred before his eyes, and thinking on what the others had said. He also agreed with Wolov's idea. But he had a strange feeling that that would be where he and his crew were heading next. He tried to say something, but all he could manage was to nod his head in approval.

"Well, I must be off to tell the other Admirals of the news and set preparations." he said and they all saluted. "It appears that I was correct." He said on the way out the door. "This turned out to be very interesting."

Vice Admiral Tashka and Captain Thomas soon followed behind Wolov, leaving Raiken and Davis alone. Davis looked at Raiken, begging him to say something. Raiken could not bring himself to look into the man's eyes.

"I should probably get back to my crew. Who knows what they might be doing without me." was all he could say. "I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then?"

Davis didn't say anything for a moment. "Y-Yes. I suppose I will." He finally got out.

Raiken saluted and left Davis staring at the door.

Raiken strode out of the prison building's lobby and out into the sunlight of the busy New York streets. He was still quite shaken by the events he had just bore witness to. He felt as if he just had been through incredible and unbearable pain; the nerves all over his body still tingling and numb from the shock. It was also the first time in the day that he realized just how tired he really was. His legs were so feeble that they would fail him at any moment. The long hours of laboring on the Liberation were arduous on himself and his entire crew. He had not slept well during the previous night, and was not entirely ready to get up when he did this morning. He felt a low grumble, a churning and turning in his abdomen.

The sun was bearing down on him with a great amount of heat; it was much hotter on the surface than in an air-conditioned fleet ship. It felt like it was much too hot for a place this far away from the equator. The light felt good on his pale skin, and was consoling to him compared to the dark bowels of the prison building, and more specifically, the interrogation room. Still the heat was agonizing, and he was beginning to sweat under his hot, heavy uniform.

Despite the sweltering heat, the way Lieutenant Davis had acted chilled him to the bone. It was a side of Davis that was completely unlike what he had expected of the man. If the killing was horrid, this was a massacre. The thought of going to yet another interrogation made him queasy. He thought of requesting his absence in the next interrogation. After all that had occurred, he felt confident that Admiral Wolov would allow it. That thought did cheer him up, at least for the moment. It would be good to actually have a day of relaxation - with no interrogation to attend, of course.

Raiken took a hover-cab back to the hotel where the rest of his crew were staying, in the hopes that some would still be present and would go to lunch with him. Strangely, the last thing he wanted was to be alone.

When he arrived, he found that the place was all but empty. Most of the crew was down at the pool, relaxing or joining in on the giant water-wrestling tournament. It seemed only natural that they spend some time in the substance that they rarely see while on duty, and if so only for such purposes as nourishment. He'd let them have their fun; after all, they deserved it as much as he did, if not more. Still some had stayed in their rooms with the doors wide open. Eating lunch, reading a book, or perhaps even trying to see what was on the vid-screen. For some reason he enjoyed watching them, as if they were his own children. It was good to see them acting like normal, planet-dwelling humans.

But then he came across Jana. She was still in her room, but when Raiken knocked on the door, she came quickly and looked as radiant as ever. She was almost completely in her uniform, with the exception of her coat and boots. She had no make-up on, as such was her custom as long as Raiken had known her, but she never really needed it. She looked just as beautiful without it as she did with it. She was that kind of woman.

Jana grew up on New Britain, in a small town in the south-eastern hemisphere. It wasn't very technologically advanced, due to a lack of currency, but many of it's citizens made weekly communes into the large city nearby, which introduced Jana to the Confederation Navy. She had really only joined due to the fact that her parents had lost most of their credits in a horrific stock collapse that caused their small farm to go practically bankrupt.

It was that down-to-earth quality that made her so pleasing to look upon. She had a light build, though it was obvious of her physical training. Her muscles were honed to almost perfection, and her shape matched her body type perfectly. She was the kind of woman that he would want to marry, but he quickly put thoughts of that nature out of his mind. Still, he had always thought her beautiful, and he knew in his mind (though he sometimes hated himself for it) that he had feelings for her. And for some reason he felt that she had feelings for him as well. If she did, then like him, she was very good at hiding them.

"I was about to go out to get some-" Raiken began. Jana cut him off quickly.

"I would love to, sir." she answered before he had finished, somehow already knowing the question, and grabbed her coat and boots, quickly putting them on before closing the door. As she did, Raiken moved back out into the center of the hall.

"Will anyone else be joining us?" Jana asked as she closed the door. The automatic lock snapped back into place and the small light on the key-card scanner blinked back to a bright red.

"If we can find anyone else who hasn't already eaten." Raiken replied as they began walking slowly down the hall.

"I'm sure we'll find someone who hasn't." Jana affirmed him in a cheerful tone.
They walked down the hall of the hotel, checking rooms for anyone who hadn't eaten and was willing to eat with them. After about five minutes of searching, they ended up with Molos, Venir, Trillic, and a few others. They decided to go to a nice seafood place, near the beach to enjoy both the beautiful view of Sol, which was now beginning to a bright orange in the light blue sky, and also the excellent, fresh seafood, which was practically nonexistent on the Liberation. In any case, they had some credits to spend, and they planned on blowing nearly all of them. However, Raiken made sure that everyone had plenty left over, for dinner of course.

The group sat at a large round table - joking, laughing, and generally having a good time. And when the wine came out, there was some shouting as well. Throughout the entire lunch, however, no one questioned him about the interrogation. In fact, no one mentioned the Liberation or the Confederation. It seemed that at that moment, there was no war going on. They were in a completely different time and place, where no one was sick or dying, there was no thing as cruelty or famine. All that existed were them and the food set before them. Needless to say they enjoyed the meal, and they all left in good spirits.

However, Raiken couldn't get the interrogation out of his mind. He wasn't sure how much wine he'd need to forget about that. The images, appalling in their vividness, were engraved into his mind like a tree, carved by the blade of a sharp knife. They burned in his head, repeating themselves over and over as if part of a broken vox-player. He could shivered at the thought of what he would of dream during the night.

They found everyone in there rooms relaxing when they arrived back at the hotel. The men were exhausted from their wrestling match, and were watching the vid-screen. The women were just lounging around, discussing such things that only women can love, and generally trying to catch up with one another. As far as Raiken could tell, it was around four o'clock. That would give everyone enough time to socialize and make a plan on dinner. It didn't bother him that he had just eaten because he, like most of the crew, was used to eating military rations, so he had plenty of room to make up for from the three year service they had been on. If the others were feeling anything like he was, the night would be great.

Raiken's assumption had turned out correct. They had the most extravagant dinner in their lives. Of course, for some it would be the best dinner they would ever have. After all, most people don't join the navy for money or luxury. They would either join to escape their lives, or just have a calling to serve the Confederation in its greatest hour of need. The Confederation however, would deny that is in need at all. Still for some reason, the flyers and posters and "Join the Navy" papers were all over the place - On every Confederate world from Earth to New Providence and every station and moon in between. But whatever the reason they joined was, he still respected them and, perhaps, even admired them. They were all hard-working, loyal, and steadfast in their duties, and they had never once let him down.

They made their way down the halls of the hotel to their rooms, however someone kept laughing drunkenly over something that no one else could quite understand. Finally, Santiago held his hand up to the man's mouth to try and shut him up, put the man's arm around his shoulders, and hefted him into the room in which they and a few others were staying. The next morning, the people who were staying on the floor below them complained to the manager of "strange noises" and "hideous laughing" coming from the room above.

After seeing many more of the crew to their rooms, Raiken walked with Jana down to her room. For a few moments they walked in an awkward silence, until Jana spoke.

"Pardon me asking, sir," she said a little uneasily, slowing her pace to a stop, "but I want to know- about the interrogation."

Raiken turned to face her. She seemed so naďve, so innocent, that he almost forgot the seriousness of her question. "It went- the interrogation -" Raiken paused his sentence, stumbling for the right words.

"That bad, huh?" she said plainly yet bemoaningly, shifting her eyes to the floor.

"It wasn't that bad." Raiken lied, "No one died. The prisoners should be fine in the morning. Everyone's okay."

Raiken extended his arm and placed his hand on Jana's shoulder assuringly. He meant it to be a casual, comforting gesture, though he realized that it was probably the most foolish thing he had ever done with her. As his hand touched her shoulder, Jana's eyes widened, and she blushed vibrantly for a moment.

"Good night, sir." she said, pulling away from his reach, and quickly saluting. She strode quickly to room, and shut the door before he could say a word.
Raiken stood in the hall for a while, his arm still extended, and looked exactly as he did when she left. Eventually he straightened himself and began to walk back to his room, going over what had just occurred in his head over and over. He hoped she wouldn't be angry with him in the morning.

As he neared the door to his room, he noticed an envelope placed neatly under the doorway. There was nothing written on the outside, and Raiken looked at it briefly and placed it in his coat's inside pocket. He quickly swiped his key-card through the scanner and entered his room. He shut the door behind him and turned the lock on.

Quickly moving over to the side of his bed, Raiken gave the quiet command "Lights on" and retrieved the envelope from his pocket. He stood for a short moment, looking over the envelope nervously in his hands, and then sat on his bed and began to open the seal. Once he had opened it, he pulled out the letter inside. In large print it read:

Go to prison block A in the prison building as
soon as you read this. Come alone.

The note was simple, yet Raiken read it three times more, as if to make sure that he hadn't missed anything or overlooked some clue as to who the sender was. Whoever it had been, he got an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

One thing he did notice was that it never said that he should come unarmed. So, he decided it was whomever's own fault for leaving that out. He made sure his neutron pistol was fully charged, holstered it, and then grabbed his eight inch silver-covered armaplast knife, tucking it in its own holster on his lower leg. He then tucked the note into his inner coat pocket again. He was already completely dressed in his uniform, and so, Raiken unlocked and walked out the door with a quiet "Lights off."

(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 11-29-2003).)

(This message has been edited by Spaceiscold (edited 11-29-2003).)

Simply Outstanding. I felt like I had spent twenty dollars to read a best seller.

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In one hand he held his Sunspot 210 spot light and in the other an old M-40 machine pistol blaster; to slaughter any blood sucking aliens. He smirked, for someone who had just hit twenty-three he really had an over active imagination, he repeated what his mother used to tell him. “There are no aliens, just ferocious monsters under the bed.” Come to think of it, she was a very bizarre woman.

Good stuff. Some of your sentences were kind of simplish, but it was a great addition to the series.

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Man have pity on man

Yes, as I read it over myself I realized some of the sentences were very short and unconnected. But, I have to say, that those were in the first section, which was written about the same time as Part 1 of Chapter One. And that was last year, and I think it shows a little how my use of words have developed over that time.

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Ie amh thuh ilitterit rietur.
Kimi wa baka desu.

I agree. Quite good. The story as a whole has been excellent.

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You know, I was going to let you become part of my most erotic fantasies, but you can just forget it, write it off!
I keep thinking there has to be something better out there, because if there wasn't, I'd just curl up in a larval position and weep.

(This message has been edited by Rawzer (edited 12-03-2003).)

It was very good. I wish I could write like that.
The only thing I wondered about was the way it seems a bit repetitive when you're describing what he does.
E.g. "Raiken did this. He then did that. He then did this. He then did that." Whereas you could be a bit like "Raiken did this, before doing that. Later, after doing this, he went on to do that."
Or something.
But I'm just being picky. Great story.

Edit: Oh, I guess that's already been said. Silly me... :rolleyes:

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It's not about wrong. It's not about right.
It's about power.

(This message has been edited by Jamin! (edited 12-04-2003).)

Good story! Very well done. And the plot thickens!

I really can't criticize anything here right now.

Cheers,
Guapo

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"Quote it, paraphrase it, soak it in peanut oil and set it on fire. I don't mind in the least." - forge
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