Reading through a few topics here and listening to FS briefing music (and getting bored with mission scripting), I said to myself: 'You have a habit of writing short and not so short stories anyway, so why not give it a shot about FS as well?'
And so I did, I quickly put together a little prequel of a story that came to my mind. I know that this is not long, but I'd like some feedback before I possibly delve into this deeper.
And yes, I am not a native English speaker. I consider my English quite good but sorry for the occasional grammatical mistake - and an extra sorry with a cherry on top if my wordings are inappropriate (and yes, I'm used to a different way of noting dialogs, I hope that is not a problem).
So, only one question: scrap-worthy or shall I keep on working on it?
OvercoverPart 0It was shortly after midnight, at least by Galactic Standard Time. The man in the bathroom was staring at his reflection in the mirror for twenty minutes by now. He kept washing his face again and again, but that didn’t seem to affect the shock and fear that possessed him.
His name was Samuel McCarthney. He was serving on the GTD Gallia, flying rusty fighters day after day to protect the people he loved from those NTF madmen. And now, fate has dropped him into the doings of an NTF operative on the very ship he has served and was devoted to protect.
- What the hell should I do? – he whispered, hoping that the mirror might answer.
It didn’t.
He closed his eyes and remembered the cold fact that, perhaps a few hours ago, he was just a normal soldier. All he had to worry about was to survive the next sortie. But now, he possessed information about something far more sinister: a takeover attempt.
It was nothing but a holophone call that he should not have answered. That and a too careless NTF operative on the other side of the line was enough to make him part of this conspiracy.
He was a pilot of the 145th Longswords squadron. For a month or so by now, he was the leader of Delta wing. Turns out, the newly assigned Delta 3 was a rotten apple in the big bag. The only reason he knew that is because he had no interest in dinner that night. Right now, he could have sworn that it was more than a decade ago, but that was nothing of importance in his present situation.
He was all alone in his quarters, reading a book. He never was much of a reader, he never had time nor the interest. In a militaristic family such as his was, being a bookworm wasn’t a top priority. Probably that was why he instantly heard the faint ringing on the opposite side of the room, which came from his squadmate’s holophone that was buried under his blanket. He rose from his bed and hurried over to the device to answer it. However, before he would have been able to say a single word, an uptight but strangely familiar voice from the other side of the line started speaking quickly.
- The takeover will be tomorrow. Don’t forget that you’re the one who volunteered to shoot the Admiral. This tyrannic regime will be over soon. Stay strong. After we have the destroyer in our hands, we will go and hunt some Zods.
- Sorry? – gasped Samuel.
The man on the other side has realized his catastrophic mistake and hung up.
