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Subject: Looking for Writers! Compose your best Gunship Fiction rss

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Nate K
United States
Utah
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Cogentesque wrote:
Nate K - just read your first one, loved it man, lovely image burned into my head with the tomatoe sauce splurged all over the windows nice.


Thanks! I figured that Escape Pod Games should really have a story involving an escape pod.

Quote:
Nate LaValley
-just read your one about the big space battle, the little interruption with the kid drawing scribbles really makes the piece, lovely "smack in your face" to make you look at the story from a different perspective - very cool


Seconded.
 
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Ernest Chua
Australia
Western Australia
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I'm not sure whether this is really gunship fiction, but I managed to come up with the following.


Dr Ellis fired the guns again and again, causing the enemy ships to spin and weave to avoid them.
“You like that, doc?” yelled the pilot. “Much better than you sitting back waiting for us to get busted before you do anything,” the voice continued with a grin.

Dr Ellis grunted a non-responsive answer as he let loose another volley. The pilot had a point; being on the front line was different from being part of the support, no matter how important that support was. It was the pilots and gunners though, who got all the glory.

Still, each of them played their part in the war. Some visible led from the front. And others, thought Dr Ellis as another of his bursts went deliberately wide of an approaching ship, managed to sabotage from within by slowly poisoning those who came to the sickbay. There were many fronts to every war.
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Steve Wood
United States
Virginia
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Gunship: First Strike! A hit on Kickstarter and soon available as a PreOrder!
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Still loving these.

And I have NOT had time to contact anyone yet so they are all still pending approval for the site. I'll be building the page soon.

This Kickstarter project is killing me - but soon enough we will launch and I can focus on other things (for a brief minute)!

Keep 'em coming!

SW
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John Gibson
Canada
Calgary
Alberta
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The assault carrier Hydron’s Fist was in a death spiral, its twin forks sheared off at the base. Captain and First Believer Jacob Truesight stared grimly as Isolone 6 rapidly filled the main view screen. He had ordered all gunships, bombers, dropships and escape pods launched from the carrier so that he could save as much of her crew as possible. Unfortunately half the escape pods had been located in the forks, which were now tumbling aimlessly through space like a behemoth’s dice.

“The last of the dropships has launched, captain.” Commander and Second Believer Lazarus Reborn said, his voice carrying only a slight tremor. That meant that only those who had chosen to stay on the bridge remained on the Fist.

Jacob nodded his head silently, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Lazarus was a good officer; Jacob would soon be sharing a drink with him in Paradise.

“Adjusting trajectory by 10 degrees…” Lazarus intoned.

The view shifted and the main continent filled the screen. Jacob could just start to make out the peninsula where Isolone’s capital was located. “The non-believers in the starbase below are going to be in for a rude awaking…”
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Jibbajabbawocky
United States
Arkansas
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Wow, late for this one!

*******************

A bad situation was getting rapidly worse. The blue “friendlies” on the main nav display were quickly being outnumbered by a disturbing amount of red triangles.

The Captain managed to elevate his voice above the din. “Get those Athos forsaken guns back online”. The urgency of his voice along with the beads of sweat that stood out on his brow, clear signs to the crew that things were going downhill fast. The front viewfinder was filled with a horrific panorama. The scene, once filled with allied ships, now contained nothing but twisted wreckage and an enemy that was quickly turning the tide of this battle.

A whirlwind of activity buzzed around their leader, as statuses were shouted out, screens were consulted, and every now and again a tremor would cause the ship to retch from one side or another. “Helm! 20 degrees port.” The captain barked. The helmsman gulped for a seconds worth of hesitation. “20 Degrees port, aye!” the helm called back. “Increase speed flank!” From deep within the capital ship the dull thuds of bulkheads starting to buckle echoed across the bridge. “Flank aye!”

“Stand men! Stand! We must hold this space!” Klaxons sounded across the bridge, alerting the bridge crew of imminent hull breech, power surges, and loss of atmospheric integrity on a few lower decks. Through gritted teeth he scanned the main viewfinder, now filled with the mammoth form of the Diergon vessel, currently trying to open him up like a tin of sardines. A blue light winked on his engineering display, his eyebrow raised, the weapons were back, his voice broke into a shout.

“Fire everything!”

A massive volley of projectile and energy emanated from his craft, the lights on his bridge dimmed slightly, as the damaged generators struggled to keep pace with the weapon system’s demand.

“Override the safeties! Give them everything we have left!”

The bridge darkened as cannon and battery were overcharged. Explosions rocked ship from without and within. The Captain held his breath.

“Come on you old girl,” he said to no one in particular, “get me home!”
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Thomas King
United States
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Unborn

With great effort, Kidman pushed past the broken hull, hindered by debris floating about, and finally emerged from the dead gunship. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the bright sun before him. Instinctively, he raised his hand to shield his eyes even though the helmet's visor automatically darkened to compensate. Kidman lowered his hand and turned his attention to the ship. "Well," he started with a deep sigh. After a heavy pause, he forced his voice from his throat and said, "That's it ol' girl. End of the road."

Kidman passed his hand over the twisted hull as a shiver coursed through his body. It was cold in that suit, colder than it should be. He had experienced the dead of space in a flight suit before, but something was different. Frantically, he looked over his gauges; oxygen was low. Expletives erupted from him as he tried to locate the leak. Every inch was inspected as best as he could, but no hole could be found.

The leak was small, and his oxygen could still last him until rescue, so he said to himself aloud, "Calm down, calm down. Save that oxygen." Breathing in a slow, deliberate pattern, Kidman eased his nerves. He moved himself into a small space near a damaged array and curled his legs into his chest, gripping them tightly. There, he waited.

Time ebbed slowly as Kidman stared off into the dark ocean. There was no way to even determine the passing of time, alone, curled up by the array. The shivering worsened, but Kidman remained focused on the space in front of him, fixated on an invisible target. He imagined a clock ticking, somewhere, as the moments passed quietly by. The clock grew bigger and brighter, and the shivering ceased. Alone, curled up by his ship, Kidman passed into an endless dream.



edit:
Some quick notes for interested readers:

Spoiler (click to reveal)
As the title indicates, the protagonist is basically being born in reverse. He exits the womb (his ship) and opens his eyes for the first time (squints at the sun). Going backwards, he then enters the fetal position tucked back up with the ship, then, life slowly leaves him rather than coming into being.
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Jibbajabbawocky
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Arkansas
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Lieutenant Commander Walsh paced nervously in the Gunship lounge. Through the large observation windows he could pick out the forms of the rest of the fleet against the backdrop of stars. He came here, most days, to clear his mind and relax, however after the planning meeting with the Captain, clarity and relaxation were scarcely to be found. He was the fleet tactician, a brilliant one in fact, and the burden of planning the upcoming assault fell on his shoulders. He kept running scenarios and strategies in his head, but every time he did the outcome never changed.

“Greetings Commander!”

Out of his daze the Commander focused on the form of Petty Officer O’Reilly approaching him. A slight smile broke across the Commander’s face as the younger officer came to find comfort in the older enlisted man’s wisdom and wit. He nodded a greeting as the gravelly brogue accent of his friend filled the empty room.

“I hear there’s gonna be a greet battle on the morrow?” The Commander could only inhale and nod. “Word about the quarters, is that we’re goin’ up again a battlecruiser!” Again the Commander, who knew of the enormity of the situation, could only nod an assent. O’Reilly could see the tension that raced across the face of his younger officer. “Doncha worry yourself none my boy. Your tactics, our ferro-steel, torpedoes, and lasers, carried many a day before, and will so again.”

“I wish I shared your confidence friend, I wish I did.”

“And so why now is your confidence shattered, this fleet has pulled out a ton of tight sports afore…”

The Commander cut him off, “None like this, none ever.” As he continued, the Petty Officer heard something in the officer’s voice he never had before, a hint of frustration, panic, even desperation. “Do you know what’s going to happen tomorrow? When we exit jump, the Captain will order an all out torpedo barrage. Hoping to catch the Deirions with their guard down followed by an immediate order to close ranks and engage. The Deirion Battlecruiser will immediately activate her Point Blank Defense System and knock a good 70% of our torpedoes out of existence. At 50,000 kilometers we will already be under barrage from her long-range naval cannons, 1.9 Terajoules of kinetic energy per blast. At 30,000 kilometers their long-range naval cannons get twice as accurate as before, and now their medium cannons are in range and engaging us. At 25,000 kilometers they open up with projectiles and torpedoes of their own. At 20,000 kilometers our weapon systems are in their optimal range and finally can be brought to bear.” The Commander pauses and looks at his feet, when he continues his voice is lower. “The thing is I don’t know how much of our fleet will be left at 20kkm. If any of our vessels are still operating they will be facing crippled shields and hull breaches. Not to mention severe structural integrity issues. Then somewhere an Admiral will get to make a speech, on a valiant charge, unspeakable bravery, the unwavering loyalty of the honored dead.”

The Commander cut himself off, O’Reilly stood there facing his young charge. The older navy man knew when to offer advice and when just to let the youth vent a bit. The Commander looked up. “Then again maybe our torpedo barrage will catch them off-guard. Maybe our barrage can hone in and take out their long-range cannons. Maybe our smaller ships can outmaneuver that behemoth. Maybe we can break their morale and get them running.” The Commander suddenly went silent, and breathed out heavily. “But that ship is the Hearth Hammer, its crew is the finest trained and most drilled assemblage in the entire Deirion Navy. They aren’t ever surprised, and ain’t running anywhere. So the algebra is complete, and this whole exercise is mathematical after all.”

Petty Office O’Reilly nodded slowly. “We must all do our duty,” he said, “and if ya never fight, you never win!” He saw the Commander nod slowly, his shoulders drooped a bit, “Iffn it’s the case sir, let me just say its been an honor serving ya.” As he started to walk past the Commander and out of the room, he paused next to the flustered officer. Placing his hand on the Commander’s shoulder he offered. “But I’ve seen with me own eyes, the damn magic that you pull off within these ships. You’ve coaxed these bastards to do things that the original engineers said simply never could be done. Iffn anyone can get us outta this, it’s you.” As O’Reilly walked towards the exit he spoke “You have the confidence of this fleet young man. Doncha ever forget it. If it can be done, you can do it!”

O’Reilly exited the room to leave the Commander to his thoughts. Walsh stared up at the expanse above him. Through the large observation windows he could pick out the forms of the rest of the fleet against the backdrop of stars.
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Steve Wood
United States
Virginia
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Gunship: First Strike! A hit on Kickstarter and soon available as a PreOrder!
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Hi, Guys

Have NOT forgotten this project - just very bust with Kickstarter.

The EPG site will need some updating soon and I will definitely be choosing stories and putting them on the site then.

Thanks!

Steve
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