The Official Sins Fiction in a Flash Thread
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This is the Official Fiction in a Flash thread for Sins of a Solar Empire. The rules: anyone may post a story, absolutely anyone. There are only two constraints: the setting of your story has to be in the Sins of a Solar Empire universe, and it can't go longer than one paragraph (hence the "in a flash"). You get ONE paragraph to tell your story, so make each word count! Also, run-on sentences are allowed, but frowned upon.
I'll start:
The Fendisi was an ugly ship now. Back when Sol had first purchased her (When had that been? Years, no-by God!-decades ago!) She had been a stately superfreighter, designed to comfortably fit a crew of 500 and several hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo for decades as she crossed the stars. Now she uncomfortably fit a crew of 2,700, and her massive cargo hold was filled not with consumer goods or raw materials, but laser capacitors, autocannon shells, fighter bays, and, in one corner, a makeshift dormitory made from bolted-down cots. They'd strapped ugly, heavy armor onto her and hastily grafted on an uglier, heavier laser cannon. She was the flagship of the defense force fleet around the local planet. A sad, patchwork ship. Sol eyed the Vasari raider fleet and wanted to spit. Damnable aliens. They had taken away his good, easy life and replaced it with a constant hell of alert tones, hoarse-shouting, and an uncomfortable, ever-present lump of fear in his gut. It was they who had stolen his ship from him, not the loud, pretentious defense force boys who had requisitioned it. He wished he knew the most insulting term in the Vasari language. He would have broadcast it on all channels, frequently. As the raiders broke formation and headed straight for their lines, his only thought was Well perhaps I can curse you in a different way, you ugly bastards! and with that ordered the ship to fire.
The Fendisi was an ugly ship now. Back when Sol had first purchased her (When had that been? Years, no-by God!-decades ago!) She had been a stately superfreighter, designed to comfortably fit a crew of 500 and several hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo for decades as she crossed the stars. Now she uncomfortably fit a crew of 2,700, and her massive cargo hold was filled not with consumer goods or raw materials, but laser capacitors, autocannon shells, fighter bays, and, in one corner, a makeshift dormitory made from bolted-down cots. They'd strapped ugly, heavy armor onto her and hastily grafted on an uglier, heavier laser cannon. She was the flagship of the defense force fleet around the local planet. A sad, patchwork ship. Sol eyed the Vasari raider fleet and wanted to spit. Damnable aliens. They had taken away his good, easy life and replaced it with a constant hell of alert tones, hoarse-shouting, and an uncomfortable, ever-present lump of fear in his gut. It was they who had stolen his ship from him, not the loud, pretentious defense force boys who had requisitioned it. He wished he knew the most insulting term in the Vasari language. He would have broadcast it on all channels, frequently. As the raiders broke formation and headed straight for their lines, his only thought was Well perhaps I can curse you in a different way, you ugly bastards! and with that ordered the ship to fire.
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