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The Forgotten Logs: RI-2-GENX-14-1301

Discussion in 'Fiction and Writing' started by Mockingjay00, Jun 8, 2020.

  1. Mockingjay00

    Mockingjay00 Petty Officer First Class

    The following are a series of short stories featuring some of my IPC characters. This is a strictly OOC story line that recounts the past in a capacity that can't be referred to or referenced ICLY due to the loss of memory of Rii, who this story primarily follows. The exception would be references made by Vi, my other IPC, who knows only fragments of Rii's operation history by working side-by-side with him.

    Feel free to comment or offer criticism, I want to improve my writing! Else, enjoy.

    Log 01-00
    It was a daunting task, even for a machine, to run so much.

    Rii runs quickly down a narrow hallway, dimly lit, with a roller bed under its arm and a breath mask in its free hand. Magboots slam down on hard on the surface of the floor which each step, which makes unique sounds with every step due to the debris and damage present. Around its neck, its dog tags float inches from its chest, where a posibrain whirrs quietly from the stress of calculating the best way to tackle the current problem.

    Second deck has been hit badly. Crew are EVA who should not be EVA. Blood and other debris fly through the air in slow motion, crashing upon the face of a machine who must navigate the mess of exposed wires, unsalvageable bodies, shattered atmospheric shutters, and other hazards. Rii comes up on the breach site, where a clear hole exposes the hallway to the battle outside.

    Ceti Epsilon is a remarkable place. The supercity is notable for its distinct metallic color, and in this moment, the thousands of lights shimmering below. Now and then they crop up from the atmosphere, presenting as battery fire: firing madly at the swarms of ships that are currently engaged in battle overhead. Blue and yellow clash with red and black hues, though Rii would note little of this as its charge resides just out of its reach from the hole in the ship.

    A woman has her eyes locked on him. Screaming without sound and clutching her throat, she begs without words for assistance. Rii supplies it with care, quickly pulling her in and applying a mask to her face. With quick movements it pulls out a large bag—visually like a fancy garbage bag—scoops her in, and places her on a roller. A few quick adjustments and several injections later, they are mobile. And without words Rii beings its journey again, now back to the infirmary, to make it all better.

    Her name was Amelia Young, and she was Rii’s first critical patient.