Well, I think it quite obvious by now that Elspeth is going to win this contest hands down... To answer your critique, the next part bout Flek should really change your impression about him...
Part XV: The Survivors
Date: Amanela 6th, 114 A.U.
“They what?!” Zarien’s shriek voice ran throughout the air.
“We’re the only ones left,” Cortna said quietly. “Everyone else… is gone.”
Zarien bit his lip and leaned more on his walking stick for support, trying to keep from growing outraged, as he counted the remaining eight elves and three orcs. “Why. Didn’t. You tell me!” he said, his voice tense.
“We didn’t want you to be more upset,” Razan said, his voice calm. “As it is, we need you. The doctor said you should be in bed for at least a week, but we can’t afford that time; we have to try to regroup and stay alive—and hope that they didn’t capture any of our comrades to try and torture our whereabouts from any of them.”
“So then,” Zarien said. “We’re doomed.”
“Excuse me?” Razan asked.
“We’re doomed,” Zarien said. “There’s only a handful of us left, they know of our existence…” Zarien gritted his teeth. “It might as well be over.”
“No,” Cortna said. “We’re still alive and well. If it needs be we might have to leave the Mothership, but this battle is not over, Zarien. Don’t lose hope.”
Date: Amanela 8th, 114 A.U.
Zarien leapt into the air in the training room, shooting guns at the targets. All was going well. He had made it past the third level of The Arglan, a computer-automated game with levels progressing in difficulty that tested a soldier’s skill. Zarien’s best was to get to level 6. Zarien ran down the virtual corridor, and then his body shrieked with pain as he misstepped with his left leg.
And then he was rolling on the ground in agony, the real mixing with the virtual, pain shooting up his left leg, unable to walk, unable to do anything but feel the pain, the silent pain that crippled his whole body.
Amanela 9th, 114 A.U.
“I fear for Zarien,” Razan softly said as they watched him. He was hooked up to a lot of cords and wires, a metal helmet on his head, as he jumped and leapt and moved, trying to get through The Arglan.
“As do I,” Cortna replied. “He’s been so… so upset and moody since he lost most of his left leg.”
“Aye,” Razan said. “Sometimes when he has his fits I wonder if he’s going to go mad with insanity. The string can be stretched so taut.”
“I pray that the string does not break,” Cortna replied.
Amanela 10th, 114 A.U.
“The only rational explanation for all their searching is that they’re trying to find us,” the orc said. “My hunch is that they’re trying to figure the whereabouts of the computer that revised their system so that they can find us and hunt us down.”
“Trash it,” Zarien said.
“Excuse me?”
“Trash it,” Zarien said. “Whatever computer we used—get rid of it! If we leave it we’re going to have to either leave our hideout for some new one on the ship, or leave the Mothership forever. And with either of the other options, we won’t need it. Shortcurcuit it or something—whatever you need to do! We can’t take the risk that they find us.”
“I believe that Zarien speaks the truth,” Razan said. “We can’t take the risk that they find us. And Zarien’s reasoning is well done. If we leave it here we’re going to have to leave—and if we leave…”
The orc sighed. “Very well then,” he said. “We will shortcurcuit the computer and its programming and trash it. I will warn you though, that after we do that, we won’t be as beneficial to our cause as our greatest power will be taken away.”
“You’ll still be able to attack and all,” Zarien snapped. “Or just get a new computer! It shouldn’t be hard to-” Zarien suddenly paused and covered his face. “Nevermind,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“You say that you’ve found it,” Unyihi growled.
“Yes, zar!” Number 997 said. “We figured out the whereabouts of the computer that they used to hack onto our system.”
“Very good then,” Unyihi said. “We will then collapse the last parts of their rebellion. Come with me.”
“Me?” Number 997 asked.
“Aye,” Unyihi said. “You know the whereabouts of this place, do you not? You will help to lead our troops to their hideout. And then we will crush this resistance once and for all.”
“There,” the orc said, stopping his flow of lightning into the computer. “The computer is dead—useless. They won’t be able to track us anymore.”
“Good,” Zarien said and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. Anyways, I have to go do some leg exercises now, so I’ll be going.”
“Very well,” the orc said. “Keep yourself safe, Zarien.”
“And you too,” Zarien replied.
Amanela 11th, 114 A.U.
“In the old training sections of the Mothership,” Unyihi said. “Clever…” He and Number 997 looked down at the entrance to the old training sections of the Mothership.
“We tracked the computer to somewhere in there,” Number 997 said. “So that’s where they should be.”
“Excellent,” Unyihi said. “Are you able to fight?”
“Yes, but…” Number 997 began.
“Come with us,” Unyihi said. “It is just after midnight—they won’t be awake. It will be a quick case of coming in and sorting it all out. All right?”
Number 997 knew better than to question Unyihi’s better judgment. “Yes, zar!” he replied.
“Good,” Unyihi said. “Spread the word to the other troops. We’re going in.”
Question of the Week:I don't have one :(
Part XV: The Survivors
Date: Amanela 6th, 114 A.U.
“They what?!” Zarien’s shriek voice ran throughout the air.
“We’re the only ones left,” Cortna said quietly. “Everyone else… is gone.”
Zarien bit his lip and leaned more on his walking stick for support, trying to keep from growing outraged, as he counted the remaining eight elves and three orcs. “Why. Didn’t. You tell me!” he said, his voice tense.
“We didn’t want you to be more upset,” Razan said, his voice calm. “As it is, we need you. The doctor said you should be in bed for at least a week, but we can’t afford that time; we have to try to regroup and stay alive—and hope that they didn’t capture any of our comrades to try and torture our whereabouts from any of them.”
“So then,” Zarien said. “We’re doomed.”
“Excuse me?” Razan asked.
“We’re doomed,” Zarien said. “There’s only a handful of us left, they know of our existence…” Zarien gritted his teeth. “It might as well be over.”
“No,” Cortna said. “We’re still alive and well. If it needs be we might have to leave the Mothership, but this battle is not over, Zarien. Don’t lose hope.”
Date: Amanela 8th, 114 A.U.
Zarien leapt into the air in the training room, shooting guns at the targets. All was going well. He had made it past the third level of The Arglan, a computer-automated game with levels progressing in difficulty that tested a soldier’s skill. Zarien’s best was to get to level 6. Zarien ran down the virtual corridor, and then his body shrieked with pain as he misstepped with his left leg.
And then he was rolling on the ground in agony, the real mixing with the virtual, pain shooting up his left leg, unable to walk, unable to do anything but feel the pain, the silent pain that crippled his whole body.
Amanela 9th, 114 A.U.
“I fear for Zarien,” Razan softly said as they watched him. He was hooked up to a lot of cords and wires, a metal helmet on his head, as he jumped and leapt and moved, trying to get through The Arglan.
“As do I,” Cortna replied. “He’s been so… so upset and moody since he lost most of his left leg.”
“Aye,” Razan said. “Sometimes when he has his fits I wonder if he’s going to go mad with insanity. The string can be stretched so taut.”
“I pray that the string does not break,” Cortna replied.
Amanela 10th, 114 A.U.
“The only rational explanation for all their searching is that they’re trying to find us,” the orc said. “My hunch is that they’re trying to figure the whereabouts of the computer that revised their system so that they can find us and hunt us down.”
“Trash it,” Zarien said.
“Excuse me?”
“Trash it,” Zarien said. “Whatever computer we used—get rid of it! If we leave it we’re going to have to either leave our hideout for some new one on the ship, or leave the Mothership forever. And with either of the other options, we won’t need it. Shortcurcuit it or something—whatever you need to do! We can’t take the risk that they find us.”
“I believe that Zarien speaks the truth,” Razan said. “We can’t take the risk that they find us. And Zarien’s reasoning is well done. If we leave it here we’re going to have to leave—and if we leave…”
The orc sighed. “Very well then,” he said. “We will shortcurcuit the computer and its programming and trash it. I will warn you though, that after we do that, we won’t be as beneficial to our cause as our greatest power will be taken away.”
“You’ll still be able to attack and all,” Zarien snapped. “Or just get a new computer! It shouldn’t be hard to-” Zarien suddenly paused and covered his face. “Nevermind,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“You say that you’ve found it,” Unyihi growled.
“Yes, zar!” Number 997 said. “We figured out the whereabouts of the computer that they used to hack onto our system.”
“Very good then,” Unyihi said. “We will then collapse the last parts of their rebellion. Come with me.”
“Me?” Number 997 asked.
“Aye,” Unyihi said. “You know the whereabouts of this place, do you not? You will help to lead our troops to their hideout. And then we will crush this resistance once and for all.”
“There,” the orc said, stopping his flow of lightning into the computer. “The computer is dead—useless. They won’t be able to track us anymore.”
“Good,” Zarien said and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. Anyways, I have to go do some leg exercises now, so I’ll be going.”
“Very well,” the orc said. “Keep yourself safe, Zarien.”
“And you too,” Zarien replied.
Amanela 11th, 114 A.U.
“In the old training sections of the Mothership,” Unyihi said. “Clever…” He and Number 997 looked down at the entrance to the old training sections of the Mothership.
“We tracked the computer to somewhere in there,” Number 997 said. “So that’s where they should be.”
“Excellent,” Unyihi said. “Are you able to fight?”
“Yes, but…” Number 997 began.
“Come with us,” Unyihi said. “It is just after midnight—they won’t be awake. It will be a quick case of coming in and sorting it all out. All right?”
Number 997 knew better than to question Unyihi’s better judgment. “Yes, zar!” he replied.
“Good,” Unyihi said. “Spread the word to the other troops. We’re going in.”
Question of the Week:I don't have one :(
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