Thread: Abandoned Openers

I've got two. Feel free to adore me and marvel at my writing. Seriously, criticism is always welcome. I may try to recycle one or both of these one day. Pirates of the Celestial Margin See more It is the 341st year of the reign of the Shijie Tuanjie Emperor, omnipotent ruler of the Shi Yiqian Tian . After centuries of conflict, the last of the independent stellar nations of the galaxy have been brought under the benevolent rule of the Son of Heaven. Supported by the Twelve Celestial Houses, his guiding hand controls the destinies of all within the Middle Universe. There are some, though, who do not accept this guidance. These individuals go by many names. Rebels. Outlaws. Traitors. Pirates. PIRATES OF THE CELESTIAL MARGINS This, laughed Captain Leonidas Nelson, better known to the peoples of the Shi Yiqian Tian as the dreaded pirate called the Starhawk, is entirely your fault. I just want you to understand that. It really wasn't a fair statement, and the laugh in his voice and the grin on his lips showed that he knew that perfectly well. It hadn't been Myra's idea to visit Xin Dubai and meet with Three-Tongued Jacob. That was all him, because they'd needed the information the broker could provide. Power bolts sizzled past him as the GBA1 shock troops opened fire. Halt! roared their leader, a small and deceptively soft-looking man of the Jin Tu Clan. You are charged with disturbing the peace of the Ten Thousand Heavens. Guilty as charged! Leo called back, grabbing a chair on the run and throwing it through the window at the end of the hall. He followed close on it's heels, trusting that Myra would be right behind him, twisting and rolling in mid-air as he dropped two stories onto the roof of a pedirickshaw. The driver cursed him in Spanish-accented Urdu, and the two passengers shrieked in surprise as he crashed through the canopy and landed between them. He was a tall man, nearly six and a half feet height and 235 pounds of lean muscle. He wore loose breeches of electric blue, bloused into calf-high black boots, a loose cream-colored shirt, and a grey Imperial Navy officer's overcoat stripped of all emblems of rank. Grey eyes twinkled merrily in the light of the triple suns, and shaggy sandy-blonde hair was visible under the grey tricorn hat perched on his head. Contrary to expectations, he didn't have a mustache or a goatee. He'd tried to grow one, once, but it had been a pale and sparse thing. He'd shaved it within a month, mortified by the way it had made his face look. Leo bowed and doffed his hat, balancing on the narrow floorboard of the pedirickshaw. My apologies, ladies. Please, pardon me. ! the driver screamed. Dropping lightly to the pavement, Leonidas flipped the man a quarter-stellare. For your trouble, he said. A power bolt sizzled past, turning a section of road the size of a saucer into bubbling molten cauldron. With a shriek of terror, the driver pedaled madly and raced away. You see, Leo told Myra as he raced into the crowds of pedestrians, if you'd just talked me out of this, we wouldn't be in any trouble right now. Behind them, the crowds parted as GBA troopers in black-laquered power-assist armor began to shoulder through in pursuit. Ahead of them rose the minarets and low flat-roofed buildings of Xin Dubai, climbing the caldera of an ancient volcano towards the atmosphere locks. The warbling buzz of a muezzin could be heard, sounding the call to prayer to the Kurzislamic cyber-faithful. As if in challenge, the bells of the Cathedral of Saint Darwin of Galapagos began to toll noon. Now, Leo said, picking up the pace, we just need to make it to the locks. Preferably in one piece. 1 Gongan Bu Anquan , which Google Translate assures me is Chinese for Ministry of Public Safety. The Habitation of Devils See more It took nearly five years to kill more than half the human race. Bacteriological warfare and chemical warfare, meteor strikes and famine, all were employed. Civilization buckled under the strain as the death toll mounted daily. Wars broke out over water and food and natural resources, or over old jealousies and petty rivalries. By the time the armies of Heaven and Hell gathered at the Valley of Megiddo, nations had collapsed into warlordism and petty kingdoms, and only the old superpowers were able to maintain any semblance of order. Nobody knows for certain which nation launched the first missile. But multi-megaton nuclear explosions erupted across the valley. What happened next is unclear, but within hours the first nuclear world war was over. There were no winners. Only survivors. Nuclear winter plunged the Earth into a short-lived ice age, and the changed climate carried the ashes of Meggido across the globe. Rains, tainted by fallout and the ashes of celestial beings, wrought terrible mutations in plant and animal life. And the Hosts of Heaven and Hell followed in the wake of the storms, ragged survivors who found themselves cut off from the infernal and divine realms. They carved out kingdoms of their own, and the distinctions between angel and demon were often lost on the humans they ruled. Ten years later, humanity struggles on the brink of extinction. Birth rates have declined substantially, and men and women are hunted for sport or forced to serve as foot soldiers in the petty wars between isolated pockets of Divine and Infernal kingdoms. But in some places, humanity remains free and independent. Constantly vigilent against both sides, they seek to rebuild their shattered world. It was the outriders that found him first, ten miles downriver from Thurmond. Once, the region they lived in was known as West Virginia, but the old names no longer mattered. It was free territory, and that was what mattered. He was a big man, dark haired, wearing a duster and battered wide-brimmed hat of dark cured leather. He was sprawled alongside the trail, breathing shallow and wounded. There were terrible rents in his clothes and flesh, claw and blade marks in arm and leg and torso that were clotted with blood and scarlet with infection. How he'd managed to get as far as he did was a mystery, because there were no nearby signs that a fight had taken place. Jonas Lin reigned in his horse and dismounted, while Barry Talbot and Danielle Lang covered him with their pistols. The big man sure looked down for and genuinely hurt, but it wouldn't be the first time the community had seen clever bandits. Jonas edged in around behind him, and nudged him with his boot. The man groaned a little, and tried to move. Nobody came barreling out of the woods. No gunshots or bows fired. Looks like he's for real, Jonas answered, crouching to check him over. Pack here looks like he's a... peddler, maybe. Got some DVDs and a few books, even a couple of toys. And... uhm... this . This was a bearded axe, nearly a meter long with a spike a hand's length long at the end and a hammer back. The gleaming silver metal was crusted with blood as well. John Doe here looks like he gave as good as he got. The big man groaned. With a horrendous effort, he pushed himself up on one arm and groped for the axe. The effort proved too much and, as Jonas scrambled backwards, he fell heavily back to the ground. The impact tore open unhealed wounds, and something that wasn't blood flowed from them. It was a luminous fluid, silver white and glowing. Fuuuuck, Danielle muttered, drawing a bead. A goddamn angel. Or a demon, Barry growled, taking aim as well. Hang on, Jonas said, you both know the rules. A man looking for sanctuary in Thurmond gets to plead his case to the council. Someone torn up like that, he's probably looking. He ain't a man, Danielle spat. Fuckin' angels ain't men , 'cept in th' worst ways. I say we kill him now. C'mon, Barry, Jonas insisted, nearly pleading. This isn't right. You know what the mayor says we've got law, and that's what makes us better . John here hasn't done anything to us yet. If we kill him... Barry sighed. ...then we aren't any better than they are. Goddamnit, you're right. Danielle glared at him out of her one good eye. The other was milky white under a bone-white scar. Fuck me , she snarled. Anytime, Dani Barry answered, automatically. You ain't serious ! It's a goddamn angel . Yeah, Barry agreed. Which is why you're gonna go fetch the mayor, so she can tell us all legal-like that it's all right to execute him. The two outriders stared at each other. Finally, Danielle wheeled her horse around. Goddamn it, she snarled, glaring at Barry. You get yourself killed by it, I'll fuckin' murder you. Love you too! Barry called as she galloped away. Then he looked back at Jonas. Get yourself back away from that thing, he muttered. No sense taking chances. Technically, they weren't dropped at the first post. Margin made it three, and Devils made it ten. But I had high hopes for both of them.