Splintered Humanity Dev Blog

YouTube Channels and awesome things to come!

2011-07-20T02:40:00.001-04:00

Here's a couple 10sec spots for the new YouTube channel where everything Splintered Humanity Productions has to offer will be showcased. This won't just be for the main world of Splintered Humanity, but for all the projects going on at the production company. This will include skits, dev update videos for the Splintered Humanity Game, and future playtest sessions. For now I'll leave you with these videos as a teaser. Don't forget to subscribe so you don't miss anything coming out in the future! Also I (Sebron) Have started a daily vlog and am going for a full YouTube Orbit. That's right, 365 days of video goodness. So any love you can send my way will be greatly appreciated. As always, stay tuned Humanity.. big things are on the horizon.

- Sebron

Sebron's Daily Vlog!

Splintered Humanity Productions on YouTube!

Superiority Complex Chapter 8

2010-05-19T09:41:00.000-04:00

Splintered Humanity:
Superiority Complex

Part 8

By

Jeremy Mombourquette

   Deckland walked into a quiet and pitch black room. A lone light hung from the ceiling, an orb shaped fixture, but it wasn’t on. One would have thought that the light didn’t work, but at the moment Deckland just chose to keep it off. The darkness was eerily soothing to him. His hands brushed a table, and he could feel the cold metal and cloth blanket resting on top of it. He smiled, a cocky, evil, smile.
   There was a pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket, and he casually grabbed for the small box. These were hard to get nowadays. After the ban on tobacco and its inability to grow in subspace a pack of cigarettes was a delicacy. How much more of a delicacy was this pack that was close to a thousand years old? And how much sweeter did it taste as he lit one of the tubes? The stale smoke filled the room, and the sickly sweet smell of thousand-year-old flame filled Deckland’s nostrils.
   There was a light cough.
   “So, you’re up I see?” Deckland asked quietly. “I didn’t think you regained consciousness.”
   A voice was muffled, the words it tried to call out seemed stuck behind something. It was a futile call for help, and sadly the voice knew that, but called out anyways. Deckland could have sworn he heard what sounded like crying shortly thereafter though. He shrugged off this thought, because it didn’t exactly matter. What it did do though was make him smile. He loved the position he was in right now.
   “Oh, we have plans for you, yes we do.” He said quietly, grabbing the lighter. He began to fiddle with it. There was a quick light here, quick light there. He lit it for a couple of seconds; he lit it for a minute or two.
   “You see you are a key piece to this puzzle. You do not realize the goals we have for you right now. The Lord Protector of the Church of Saint George doesn’t see the entire picture. Each piece has its own puzzle, and each puzzle is part of a much greater schema. You my friend, you are destined for greatness.”
There were more muffled cries.
   “Shh, shh. Don’t struggle. It will make everything more difficult for you. You must anticipate and appreciate the scope of your destiny.”
   Deckland paused and flicked the lighter on again. He waved the light by the crying individual who was strapped to a bench. His mouth was closed shut with a metallic device, and his arms and legs were secured to the table itself. It would have been impossible for this individual to move.
   “Mr. Akira Tokugawa, we have grand plans for you.” Deckland paused, and nodded to the nearby wall, or what seemed like a wall.
   Three large men walked in, each wearing a clean white smock, their eyes burning a fiery green. Deckland made mere motions to specific areas of the room, and each of the men obliged. They began to press and fiddle with things unseen in the shadows, then they turned towards the table. Akira watched in horror as they all closed in. Mechanical apparatuses near him were turned on, and above the sound of Akira’s frantic screams, whirrs, and beeps, and metallic grinding filled the room. Akira’s tears were literally drowned out in the cacophony. Deckland grabbed a portable light and rotated it into position. Akira couldn’t see any of the devices in great detail, but that’s what scared him more than what might be happening.
   “So, you see Mr. Tokugawa you shouldn’t be scared. This is your great coming out party. We’re going to give you a brand spanking new tuxedo, and we’re going to make you a much better man than you were before.” Deckland seemed excited to utter these words. “Now, I just have a few more things to do before we can start the procedure.”
   There was a strange flourish to the way Deckland acted at this moment. His movements had more flair, and his words seemed to sing as he spoke. It almost seemed as he was the director of a great play, or an artist displaying his piece to a group of patrons. He began to hum an old tune as he worked. The tune sounded like something from an old Broadway musical from the twentieth century. If Akira wasn’t so knowledgeable about twentieth century pop-culture, and realized that it was My Fair Lady, the tune himself would have put him into shock. He could hear the words as Deckland hummed them.
   All I want is a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air…
   Deckland took a seat next to Akira’s “bedside”, and suddenly a loud and vigorous buzzing could be heard. This sound alone echoed in the already melodic room.
   With one enormous chair…
   Deckland raised a large device. The circular saw blade was spinning faster than Akira’s eyes could follow; with an evil smile Deckland lowered it towards his forehead.
   Oh wouldn’t it be lovely.

***

   Naomi sat at a desk; a large pile of papers lay in front of her. Her head was in her hands. Sweat poured down her forehead. She was at a crossroads at the moment. The Knight continued to be resolute in refusing to tell her anything about what occurred, and the Tribunal would be meeting within a day. She needed to find out what occurred, because if she were to properly represent him, she would need information. This was the trouble with the legal system, every member of the Tribe of Four Winds was educated in the process of law; this was the problem with the entire system.
   She understood the theory. If everyone were allowed to practice law, this in theory would even the bar. A representative would be chosen based upon standing and by military rank, if one were to have one of course. If a person were guaranteed the ability to get an adequate representative, then the system would be fair. This was not always the case. Naomi was a warrior, she was the leader for Fang Squadron, the most elite unit of the tribe. She didn’t spend half as much time behind legal materials than others, and she wasn’t up to speed on how she should represent this individual. Justice? Fairness? Justice was allowing this man to walk free, trial or no trial. Fairness was giving him a capable representative. The Knight was receiving neither of the two.
   Naomi sighed, and looked at the papers on the desk. The forensic evidence was point blank, the Knight did not do this. He did not murder the diplomatic envoy. The question was what happened to the culprit. Where was he? How did he escape? And what would the tribe be facing if someone with the capability of tearing through four suits, a scout, and disabling another suit, were around? She began to wrack her mind, and grabbed a small pad from the desk the Minister of Justice provided her with. She began to doodle; it was the easiest way for her mind to brainstorm. She started with drawing light swirls.
   There had to have been something? Teleportation technology was out of the question. Scientist found out years prior that pulling apart atoms and recombining them was much too difficult. The experiments that ripped apart the very matter of an apple, of a rat, could not have even begun to do that to a suit. The atomic structure of Divinuim alone was much too complex to reconstitute, hell even pull apart, this is even in a mere one-ounce bar. To even pull apart an entire suit without an atomic explosion was unfathomable. Even if, in theory, it were possible, it would have taken an exceptional form and amount of fuel. The dark matter energy drives of the suits weren’t powerful enough to do that.
   She began to draw a person. Maybe it was psionics? No, it couldn’t have been that. Yes, all soldiers in every faction had some sort of psionic ability. Yes, human evolution could be thanked for these new abilities. Yes, Divinium amplified psionics. But, there was no known human with a psionic ability powerful enough to allow for some means of escape. If a person were that powerful, someone, some faction, would have detected it and proclaimed his superiority, even the Tribe of Four Winds.
   She began to sketch out armor on the doodle person. What if they didn’t leave? What if the suit was destroyed? Naomi shook her head furiously and screamed in the air. This entire thing was hopeless. She couldn’t figure out what was going on. She couldn’t figure out what happened. She began to stare at the wall on the opposite side of the room, and she began to imagine what the Tribunal would say.
   “It is in our judgment that the knight be found innocent of the crimes brought before this Tribunal. It is also in our judgment that he be sent back to his faction, and the treaty be nullified. We announce a state of war against the Church of Saint George…”
   Naomi loved combat, she relished its very nature. She loved the feeling through her veins as she stared down an enemy. She loved out maneuvering them, out gunning them. She loved standing side by side with her squadron and the camaraderie that came with it. What she didn’t love was needless fighting. If she were to risk her life, she was going to do it for a purpose. She believed in her heart of hearts that there was more with this story than it seemed. Trial of Trust or no Trial, she was going to get the information.
   She paused for a moment and looked over the paperwork and notes littering her desk. She had a sudden idea, and it was a simple idea, but idea nonetheless. In a flurry she rushed to the nearby elevator. Lucky for her the knight was being held twenty stories below her in the depths of the Tree City. Lucky for her also, the Knight’s personality was easy to predict. Unlucky for him, his ego would be shattered.

***

   Sir Lucas was lying on the cot reciting made up poems when he heard the prison door slam open. Lazily looking up he noticed the young girl who was his supposed “representation” for his trial. He smirked a bit and went back to making up rhymes about crushing infidels, and where nice women go at night.
   “Get out.” Naomi said loudly, the tone of her voice was angered, bewildered, unforeseen. Sir Lucas didn’t expect it.
   “No.” Sir Lucas said smugly, “If I’m going to die I might as well enjoy my last few moments, don’t you think?”
   “You’re an asshole. You are not going to die. They aren’t charging you.”
   “You mock me so little woman. Go, go, go play with your dolls. You’re not getting any information from me.”
   “I challenge you.”
   Sir Lucas was suddenly bewildered. He sat up. This was the first time he actually got a good look at this woman. He placed her no older than twenty-five, maybe twenty-seven tops. She had a decent figure, a little wide on the hips and chest, but not too wide. Plus her wild red hair gave her looks a bit more “personality” he thought. Without it, if she were a brunette for instance, she would have been easily forgettable. She was definitely attractive, that could not be argued.
   “A challenge?” Sir Lucas was beginning to be amused by this poppet.
   “Yes, a challenge. Hand to hand combat.”
   “Hand to hand?” Sir Lucas laughed and stood up walking over to Naomi. He stood in front of her. He was six foot two, and two hundred and fifty pounds with all muscle. This young girl was maybe, maybe, five foot four tops. He wouldn’t have even guessed she was no more than one hundred pounds wet. He laughed. “I would break you in a moment.”
   “Well then you have nothing to lose don’t you?” Naomi stood her ground, “If I win, you tell me everything you know. You win, you can face the Tribunal in whatever way you see fit.”
   “Interesting, I must say interesting. Sir Lucas was a bit enamored by this challenge, but it was good for a little amusement at least.
   “So, do we have a deal?”
   “Yeah, we have a deal.”
   “Fine, we’ll start immediately.” Naomi turned around, Sir Lucas’ gaze went down towards her behind, “Follow me, we’re going to the arena.”

(To be continued...)

Superiority Complex: Chapter 7

2010-04-18T16:37:00.000-04:00

Splintered Humanity:
Superiority Complex

Part 7

By

Jeremy Mombourquette

Interdepartmental Memo
From: Department of Justice, Law and Legal Proceedings
To: Department of Administration and Governing

Written by: Chief Hector Steelox
Written to: Greatmother Henrietta Rushingriver

Twenty-third day of the fifth moon, in the Four-thousand two-hundred fifth cycle.

Your Excellency,

   Per your request we have sequestered the representative from the Church of Saint George. We are still unsure of what occurred when he arrived to Earth, and what happened to the diplomatic envoy sent to welcome him. I have assigned a legal counsel to his aid, one of our greatest soldiers. I hope you understand the brevity of this situation, because given our legal system, he needed to be paired with someone of an equal rank, and who serves the same function as he does. It is also of important note that it just happened that the best person I had for the job was your daughter; it was not an easy decision to place her in this role. I understand fully that her duties as the leader for Fang Squadron limits her ability to be an effective representative for the Knight, but I have taken it upon myself to relinquish her from her duties temporarily. She has been stationed here for the past week as of now. I have also encouraged her to speak to the Knight on numerous occasions, but he seems unable, or just unwilling to do so.
   Like I have stated before, our information on what occurred is extremely limited. What we do know is some sort of battle occurred which resulted in the deaths of the envoy and his escort. It is in our viewpoint that the Knight did not attack the envoy; in fact all of the evidence present seems to indicate that he was defending himself from whatever enemy was present at that time. We still do not know what happened to the guilty party, where he went, what happened to him, or who he was. It is not helping matters that the Knight is refusing to cooperate. It seems he is withholding information for some reason. Why? We are not fully sure. The culture of the Knights of Saint George is so much different from our own; it is hard to tell exactly why he would withhold information when we’ve been so forthright.
   Yes, I am fully aware that this might be an indication of guilt, but scans of his suit and the limited communication scans we picked up indicated that it was not his weapons systems which were guilty of attacking the envoy. The weapons that attacked the envoy cannot be forensically connected to the Knight’s weaponry. The energy residue that was found at the scene, and the types of blows on the envoy’s suits cannot be made by the type of weapons the Knight utilizes. But, there is also no evidence of any other suit being in the location at that time.
   We did find a small scout ship located nearby, but all life scans came up negative. If someone were alive in the ship, the life signs were so weak we could not pick it up. I sent a forensic unit back to the scene, but someone removed the ship. Any information which we could have attained is now gone. We have to wait until either the Knight states what occurred, or the Tribunal makes a judgment call; this is our only choice.
   I am not comfortable keeping him sequestered in prison. I understand that it was your desire to begin one of the trials early, because you too believe of the Knight’s innocence. I just do not understand why we could not give him better accommodations. What it comes down to is, before we can do anything, and before we can decide upon the next course of action, we need information. This is something that the Knight is not giving us, refuses to give us, and is seemingly mocking us with.
   I hope you can give us some direction, because given the situation the trial of trust is a hard one for us to continue given the circumstances.

Dutifully yours,

Chief Hector Steelox

***

Interdepartmental Memo
From: Department of Administration and Governing
To: Department of Justice, Law and Legal Proceedings

Written by: Prime Minister Stephen Foxtail for Greatmother Henrietta Rushingriver
Written to: Chief Hector Steelox

Twenty-fourth day of the fifth moon, in the Four-thousand two-hundred fifth cycle.

To the Chief, and all Members of the Department of Justice, Law and Legal Proceedings,

   It is of the opinion of the Greatmother that we continue as planned. Her desire to start the trial of trust earlier than would normally be undertaken, and given all of the circumstances, has a lot of bearing in how we will view the potential treaty and trade pact with the Church of Saint George. We are fully aware that this man was not responsible for the attack on the diplomatic envoy, and we appreciate the forensic evidence being forwarded to us in a timely manner. We do need this information, information only this Knight has, but it is also more important that we gain his trust, and that he passes the trial.
   Per the orders of the Greatmother, the meeting with the tribunal will happen in three days from now. If he passes the trial we will continue with the treaty as planned, if he doesn’t, then we have no choice but to send him back on his way and give the Church of Saint George a very curt reply. It is in our best interest, and in the interest of justice that he passes this trial. He will do this by willingly giving us the information on what occurred. We have enough forensic evidence that charging him with the deaths of the envoy will be pointless, and this will have a stronger negative reaction than positive one. But, he needs to give us the information.
   What we need to know is what theories can you make from the forensic evidence that we have. Was it Reichstag? The Illuminati? Some group that we are not aware of? We need a decent theory as much as knowing what information the Knight has. This is your personal order Chief Steelox.
   The Greatmother understands that given the brevity of the situation, her daughter was the best candidate to act as a representative. We are hoping you placed a decent replacement for Naomi in charge of Fang Squadron. If you placed a sub par soldier from the academy in a position as important as this, it will not sit well with the Greatmother. Your job will be on the line if someone sub par has gained control of the squadron. You are already on very thin ice for your recent personal escapades Chief Steelox. We do not want a minor indiscretion such as this breaking the camel’s back. We hope you understand.
   In closing, please continue with your work and the course you are on. We will need your theories as soon as feasibly possible and we hope to see the Knight in front of the tribunal soon. Our future courses of actions are dependant upon what occurs at this tribunal.

In Regards,

Prime Minister Stephen Foxtail

Dungeon Hate.

2010-04-14T23:03:00.000-04:00

Hey Humanity, Sebron here to talk a little bit about actual MMORPG stuff! I know, we focus so much on the literature here that I even forget that we want to make this into the greatest science-fiction game ever made. Now, I'm not sure about you guys, but for me one thing that defines a "great" game in general is its core Player Vs Environment content and how well it plays with the Player Vs Player content. With our capture system going into this game it makes it so that once a specific dungeon is open you are going to want to get as much farm time out of it as possible, but how to we do this without making it nauseatingly boring? One idea we are toying around with is having random dungeon generation.

When your group spawns an instance of the dungeon the game will look to a table of what room designs it can use, encounter groups, random rare spawns directly from lists tailored for each dungeon. The boss fights would stay in set locations and within a set number of encounter groups in order to maintain a set time limit on the dungeon.

Let's give an example:

Your faction has just bowled over the other four and controls Mars space for the time being. This unlocks the dungeon, "Ruins of EC2." The game will make a quick call as to whether this particular dungeon will use the "overland" or "interior" tile sets, as this dungeon is designed with two separate play modes. Like all our dungeons it has mob level scaling which makes all dungeons accessible to all levels of play, excluding our end game raid dungeons which follow entirely different systems. So the game has decided this will be an interior crawl for your team, we're looking to target the traditional party size of four to five players. The game then generates a quick map based on the lists of rooms, populates it with encounter groups and the proper boss rooms and is good to go. This happens for each group, each time you enter. So while the crawl will be similar and encounter groups will have their specific strategies that carry throughout the dungeon every time, it will hopefully feel variable enough to get good play out of while you search for that new shoulder mounted rocket battery for your Paladin suit.

Thanks for sticking with us everyone, Things are growing slowly here at home base and none of this will ever be possible without you.

Superiority Complex Chapter 6

2010-04-05T17:36:00.000-04:00

Splintered Humanity

Superiority Complex

Part 6

Jeremy Mombourquette

   The window was opened slightly to the outdoor courtyard, and he stood by it staring down at the people scurrying along. The squires moved in and out of the buildings, and trams, they were going about their business without any care or feeling. It was automatic, instinctual, predictable. This was God’s plan as he saw it, everything in its place. As a lone pigeon landed on the windowsill in front of him though, he snarled. He hated pigeons. All of God’s creatures his ass, there were some which were just vermin. This was one of them. They were like the infidels in the opposing factions, vermin to be crushed under his foot.
   The pigeon cooed and cocked his head as it stared up at the Lord Protector. Its eyes were transfixed on something, something unseen in the direction of the high-ranking officer. Its head bobbed up and down, up and down. It gave a quiet squawk and looked away from the Lord Protector. Soon, it forgot what it was staring at, as most birds do, and flapped its wings before taking off. It was much to the amusement of the Lord Protector, he didn’t want bird shit staining his office window. He wanted to secretly think he put the fear of God into the small animal, but merely dismissed it as his own mere folly of an idea. Though, he did like to think he could put the fear of God in anything. That’s why he was the Lord Protector, wasn’t it?
   The office door opened slowly; the footsteps that followed came in eerily quietly, and the Lord Protector could hear the individual take a seat in the chair sitting in front of his desk. Nothing was said. It was all silence. He was prepared to see this individual, too prepared. He knew exactly who it was, why he was there, and the possible direction of the meeting. Things were slowly coming into fruition, something years in the making. The plan was unfolding perfectly, and God was shining his grace upon the Church of Saint George. The infidels wouldn’t see it coming.
   “You’re late.” The Lord Protector said quietly, his focus remained outside.
   “I apologize. Let’s just say things took a turn for the worse.” The voice was calm, and in a weird way, very charismatic despite the negative tone of his comment.
   “What do you mean, for the worse?” The Lord Protector turned to the suited man sitting behind him.
   “The Illuminati member didn’t survive the process. The atoms comprising his organic matter disintegrated, we couldn’t do anything with it.” The seated individual grabbed a small colony-globe sitting on the Lord Protector’s desk and spun it in his hands. He didn’t look up at the Lord Protector once.
   “What do you mean his organic matter disintegrated? You are supposed to be able to save it!” The Lord Protector’s voice was at a low growl, but there was no anger or joy in his tone.
   “Well, if you want to make an omelet you need to break a few eggs, right?” The man laughed a bit, his Scottish accent finally truly showing through. The Lord Protector was so used to it, he never really paid attention to it anymore.
   “So what do we do now?”
   “Well, I’ve been tracking the Halfling in your midst. It seems he’s encountered a familiar adversary of yours.” The man stood up and wandered over to the nearby bookshelf, pulling out a random book and flipping through its pages. He didn’t even read the words, or at least didn’t make it seem like he was, he was just flipping the pages.
   “Really? So, he’s in the community. Interesting.” The Lord Protector gave a quick laugh and continued, “And what about our special friend, did he survive?” The Lord Protector’s interest was finally peaked.
   “Our mole has him tracked, so yes he’s in the community.” The man put the book back, and grabbed another doing the same thing as before.
   ‘You didn’t answer my question.”
   The mysterious man continued to stand there staring at the book in front of him. He smirked a bit, shook his head and tossed the Lord Protector the book. It was a quick toss, one which was unexpected. The Lord Protector missed it, his age making his reflexes much slower than they should be. Or, at least that’s what it seemed sometimes. His parts didn’t work normally sometimes. The book landed on the ground, the spine just missing the tips of the Lord Protector’s fingers by millimeters. As it landed onto the ground with a loud thud, the mysterious man shrugged. Guess that books heavy on the bullshit.
   “What about the knight?”
   The man smirked and grabbed another book off the shelf, flipping through the pages like the previous book.
   “Deckland! What about the knight?” The Lord Protector’s voice finally rose. He turned around completely slamming his fist onto the oak desk. His hand tingled from the blow, but didn’t hurt. In a strange way it felt good, liberating, a reminder of his remaining humanity.
   “The Knight survived the assault.”
   The Lord Protector shook his head and slammed his fist again. This time, the blow was much louder, and the desk cracked under the pressure. Splinters entered the Lord Protector’s flesh, but it didn’t sting. He stared at the indentation in the solid oak, he marveled at the cracks amongst the visible tree rings. A few of the knick knacks still on the desk were now tipped over, a few fell to the floor. Their simplicity in the face of adversity was well played, but far from successful.
   “The knight is under the arrest of the Tribe of Four winds.” Deckland stated with a smile as he put the book away and tossed the Lord Protector a small disk.
   “He’s under arrest?” The Lord Protector stated as he managed to catch the disk, ironic given it was so much smaller than the book.
   “He’s under arrest. We may have not been successful, but the Tribe will be. No one will suspect anything.”
   “Anything?” The Lord Protector’s voice was close to a whisper.
   “Anything.” Deckland took a few steps to the office door then turned to the Lord Protector, “Funny how one can bypass the Church security so easily, isn’t it?”
   “Very funny.” The Lord Protector sat back down at his desk, taking a group of data pads into his hand.
   “Well, ob-la-di, ob-la-da?” Deckland stated with a sly and sinister laugh.
   The Lord Protector just stared at the Scott, and went to the work which was now waiting for him in his hand. He grasped the disk like it was more valuable than anything the Church could acquire. It would have been so easy for him to get rid of this man, but the Lord Protector needed him, and when he was done with him, he would terminate his “contract” with Deckland literally.
   “Goodbye Deckland.” The Lord Protector’s voice was shallow as he looked down at his work, it was very Scrooge like his sudden mannerism.
   Deckland bowed in a very Rennaissance Faire styled flourish, and then waltzed out of the door.
   “Good riddance.” The Lord Protector grumbled to himself, after standing up to stare back towards the courtyard outside.

***

   The prison cell was cleaner than he imagined. The cot was comfortable, at least for a prison cot, the toilet facilities were also equally adequate. It wasn’t what he imagined the prison of an inferior faction would be. He was fully prepared for a rat infested, disease ridden, dirt floored hole at the bottom of some temple. He almost had hoped for something like the later, it would have been more interesting. He lounged on the cot, hands behind his head staring up towards the ceiling. His legs were crossed, his left foot flicking every so often to a tune that played only for him.
   He had resigned himself to the fact that he was a dead man. There was no feasible way he could get out of this situation. He was screwed in every sense of the word. In order to even start to figure out a way to defend himself he would need files found on his suit, but God knew where that was. He suspected that it was now melted down for scrap metal. Or, if they were wise, they were reverse engineering most of the equipment on it as he lay in the cot. One or the other, both were equally horrible possibilities. It was funny though, Sir Lucas cared more about the status of his suit than his own life.
   What else did he have to live for though? He lost his one love years ago, and now the one squire he had which showed so much promise, promise which took his so long to realize, was dead. In the face of death, the face of permanent defeat, things actually looked up for him. This would be his release. God would judge him for all of his triumphs, all of his failures, and maybe, just maybe he was righteous enough to join him in the kingdom of Heaven. Hell, Sir Lucas knew he was righteous enough, that’s why he was so happy at this particular moment. But was it a false happiness, he didn’t know, or thought about it.
   It took him a few moments to realize someone was staring at him through the cell bars. He ignored her though, the fat little infidel as he saw it. He had nothing to say to her, and nothing to give her. He was dead and gone. This mission was a wash. A simple diplomatic mission turned into suicide mission. It was funny how easily he gave up at this moment. But the woman staring at him, with those piercing eyes, in a strange way it was hypnotic, and eerily beautiful. Yet, despite that, he kept his focus to the ceiling, as difficult as that was.
   “Quel de forn.” The woman stated shaking her head.
   Sir Lucas laughed, did she seriously think he could understand her. The strange language meant nothing to him. Linguistics was the study of the priestly wing. The academics weren’t of his need, all he needed was basic strategy, and at most an understanding of history. Language, who needed it?
   “You are an idiot.” The voice rang.
   Sir Lucas sat up a bit, and looked to the woman. She stood there, her hands on her wide hips, her head continuously shaking. This was an interesting turn of events, he had no clue that the blasphemers could speak his language. Funny how things turn out.
   “You have a chance to get out of here you know?” She said again.
   Sir Lucas smirked, then chuckled.
   “Fine, if you want to resign yourself to an avoidable fate, fine.” She paused then continue, “If you understood our culture, then you would truly understand what you need to do. But, of course you right minded assholes don’t give a shit. Fine. Why my mother wanted to open diplomatic relations to you is beyond me.”
   “I don’t need to understand anything about your culture to understand I am about to die, and to kneel before my God when I reach the kingdom of Heaven.”
   “You are allowed council in front of the elders. You can either take my help, or leave it, its up to you. There’s much more at stake than what you think.” The woman shook her head again, said something in a tongue Sir Lucas couldn’t understand, then left.
   He was still resigned to the fact he was going to die…

***

   Turner had never known pain of this magnitude. His legs at the same time burned like hot acid were poured on them, and were colder than the vastness of space. This woman, Faith, was working on his wounds as he continued to lay in the sand. He didn’t understand what was going on, and he still couldn’t understand half of what she was saying. All he knew was that it hurt. It hurt really, really, really, badly.
   “We’re going to take you to nearby clinic. Where are you from Caleb?” Faith asked as she focused on dressing his wounds.
   It was kind of funny though, Turner couldn’t remember where he was from.
   “Um, I’m not sure.” Turner replied quietly with a twinge of embarrassment in his voice.
   “You must have short term amnesia.” Faith paused and grabbed something from, what seemed to be to Turner absolute nowhere, a pair of scissors.
   As Faith cut open the flight suit, Turner could feel the scorching desert rays on his chest. His dog tags flew up and hit him in the face as the suit was removed. Both Turner and Faith paused, neither of them expecting that to happen. Turner didn’t even remember that he was wearing those. Funny, a strange necklace, Turner thought to himself. As unfamiliar as it seemed, it was kind of cool and unexpected in the same breath. It kind of helped take his mind off of the pain which radiated from his legs.
   Faith grabbed the metallic disk that now lay on Turner’s face, and quietly looked at it. He tone went from upbeat, to depression in the same instant.
   “So, you’re a member of the Church of Saint George?” She said in a low tone.
   “Am I?” Turner lifted his head a bit, but a sharp pain jabbed him in the back of the legs up to his neck.
   “You have amnesia. Damn it, what do I do?” Even in Turner’s state he knew Faith was asking herself that question.
   Faith looked around, at what exactly Turner had no clue. Faith was racking her brain at that very second, attempting to figure out what to do, if anything. She knew this young man had amnesia, how long it would last, she didn’t even know. But, he was also a member of the Church of Saint George, the same church that has an execution order on her head. If he remembered, and found out who she was, her years of hiding were for nothing. Then again, she held steadfastly to the Hippocratic oath.
   Why was this such a hard decision?
   It shouldn’t have been.
   “Oh, fuck it!” Faith grumbled to herself and called to two unseen people.
   Turner was soon placed on a stretcher for places unknown.

(To be continued…)

The Resurrection of Sneak Peek Sundays!

2010-04-04T10:21:00.003-04:00

Yeah, I know it used to be Sneak Peek Saturday... but my mages have their ways of messing up even the most simple idea resurrection spell. Anywho, I'm here to bring you the first in a two part update in the continuing saga of Sir Lucas. Also, stay tuned for this afternoon when we bring you yet another chapter in this epic tale. So without further ado I bring you Chapter 5 of Splintered Humanity: Superiority Complex.

Splintered Humanity:

Superiority Complex

Part 5

Jeremy Mombourquette

Six years ago…

   She was intensely focused on her work. Checking the pulse, the breathing, and the overall medical statistics of the patient were beginning to take its toll. Her head was starting to ache and her muscles burned as she remained knelt over the small cot. She didn’t like working in these prison conditions, it was a literal hell, and she wanted to get out. She could work triage like a champion, but working in this prison was another game altogether. Trying to save the life of this prisoner was much, much worse than working in a busy hospital unit with a number of nurses and other support staff. She hated working alone. Even still, she remained focused, remained calm. She knew what she had to do, and nothing was going to keep her from doing her job.
   The prisoners’ body was bruised, swollen, broken. Her eyes remained focused on the young man’s lips; they were cracked and bleeding, the dried blood pooled on the cleft of his chin. He was severely dehydrated. Hopefully, the IV solution would help alleviate this. She was also concerned about the other issues, and for someone so young, she estimated him to be only eighteen, it was very difficult to see this type of suffering. His breathing was shallow, and she knew there was blood filling his lungs, broken ribs were also not exactly helping matters. His heartbeat was weak, very weak; the lack of food and water was probably the culprit. She sutured the left ring finger that was cut off during the interrogations. Overall, she needed to bring him to a hospital, because simple patch jobs weren’t going to save his life, just prolong it.
   “Sadie, I need a med-unit sent to Prison 1A. I need it stat!” There was no sound of concern in her voice, just utter professionalism.
   “Yes ma’am. It is being sent now.” The voice on the other end of the com-link was sweet sounding, almost like the only angel in the midst of a world of demons.
   She continued to work, wiping the sweat off of the young man’s brow, and wiping the sweat off of her own. She quietly wondered how she would sneak the boy out of the prison for treatment. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it needed to be done. Contacting the Archbishop would be impossible, but she hopefully wasn’t going to need to, she would rely on luck. Luck was something that was rare, and when you were a doctor it was something you held onto like a vice. This was an instance where she would trust in it.
   “So, what’s the verdict?” A gruff voice came from behind her on the opposite side of the prison bars. The voice chilled her to her very bones, and to her very soul.
   “This man needs surgery. He needs fluids and nutrients. He needs to be taken out of this God damned place. What the hell have you done to him?” Her voice was angry, but at the same time calm in the face of certain doom. Calmness was also something that was a required necessity when you were a member of the Church of Saint George.
   “That is no worry of yours. Can you stabilize him?” The smile was cunning, sly, evil.
   “Stabilize him? He needs a hospital!” Her voice continued to be resolute towards her position.
   “Like I said, that is no matter. He is an infidel. He is an insult in the face of our God. This member of Reichstag is not welcomed into the kingdom of Heaven, so it matters little. We need information before we can release him to you. Again, can you stabilize him?”
   “I am not just going to stabilize him. I am taking him out of here. He will die if we don’t take him to real medical care.” She stood up for the first time in what seemed like hours, but it was probably only minutes. Her head felt slightly dizzy to the quick rise.
   “Lady Faith, you will do no such thing. You will stabilize him, and then once we get the information we need then, and only then, will he have access to medical care.”
   “Lord Protector, you are a monster.” Faith’s voice quivered in anger. “I will do no such thing. I will ensure that Archbishop Williams hears of-”
   “He will hear no such thing!” The Lord Protector interrupted, “You will do as I say.”
   “Or what?” Faith made a quick few steps closer to the Lord Protector, getting within inches of his face.
   “Or you will be placed under arrest.” His voice was a whisper, the type of whisper you only hear in your deepest nightmares.
   “Under whose authority?” She continued to remain where she stood.
   “Under my own. Now, step away if you wish to continue standing.”
   Lady Faith growled and went back to her work, but the corner of her eye remained on the Lord Protector. It would be a matter of moments before the med-unit would arrive. It seemed like her luck was running out. Originally, the Lord Protector stated he would give her whatever time she needed to work, but that wasn’t the case. It seemed every other moment he was “checking up on her”. She wasn’t sure if it was to garner the so-called information he needed from this young prisoner, or an attempt to look down her shirt when she wasn’t looking. The Lord Protector was a perverted old man sometimes, and yet he was in a position of power. What was he looking for exactly? There was no way this boy had any information which could be useful to the Church. She made the decision right then and there to ignore the Lord Protector’s order…

***

   “So, these are his scores?” Sir Lucas looked to Sir Hawthorne and chuckled.
   “Yes, those are his scores.”
   “He can’t pilot a suit, and his combat tactics are lackluster at best,” Sir Lucas paused huffing loudly, he then continued, “And you seriously want me to mentor him? This is an insult.”
   Sir Hawthorne sat behind his desk with his hands squeezed together, both of his index fingers resting on his lips. He looked to Sir Lucas as he lounged in the chair on the opposite side of the desk, one leg resting on the other, the data pad held on his lap. Every so often Sir Lucas would shake his head a bit.
   “Sir Lucas, this is your order. You will train this boy, and he will become your squire.” Sir Hawthorne’s voice was shallow, he had heard too many protests from Sir Lucas before, especially ones regarding his father. It was getting old and annoying.
   “I am too good to train this boy. What do you get out of this?”
   Sir Hawthorne glared at Sir Lucas, then stood up. He walked over to a group of cabinets on the opposite side of the room and opened a small drawer. He was silent. Even his footsteps and the motion of opening the drawer was eerily quiet. He began to rifle through the data pads held inside. He found his target almost instantly and grabbed it, he then tossed it to Sir Lucas in a single fluid motion.
   “Read that.”
   Sir Lucas activated the data and scratched his chin. Sir Hawthorne wasn’t exactly a fan of Sir Lucas, but the higher ranking officers requested this assignment. He wasn’t one to ask, but Sir Lucas was going to have to understand that this was the will of God. He would need to train this young boy, and the Church will be better off since he did so.
   “You cannot be serious?” Sir Lucas’ eyes were wide open.
   “We are serious. This is your assignment. This is the will of your superior officers, and this is the will of God.” Sir Hawthorne’s voice didn’t change in tone, or syntax.
   “But now, I am definitely insulted.” Sir Lucas voice hit a loud and angry crescendo, “I am supposed to train someone who’s not even full blooded? He’s half Illuminati!”
   “Sir Lucas, you will train this boy with no more questions or protests. Training Squire Caleb Turner is your assignment.”

***

   Somehow, Faith successfully removed the young boy from his prison cell and he was now on his way to proper medical treatment. She smiled as she thought about the Lord Protector’s face as he watched her and her colleagues place the boy on the triage unit and rush him out of that hellhole. The fact that she successfully spit in that masochistic asshole’s face made the work to stabilize this boy so much more worth it.
   As the Med-Unit arrived to the hospital it landed quietly and smoothly onto the dock. She prepared the boy for movement to the Urgent Care facility. His pulse, blood pressure, breathing, and other vital signs were checked, double checked, and triple checked. His lips looked better, they were less chapped, and there were signs that he was regaining consciousness. He lost it as they were moving him, but only due to some pain medication administered to help him through the move. Now, time was truly of the essence.
   Two large Knights grabbed the transportation unit, their large hands gripping each side’s handrail. They were focused, and this was the only position Knights were allowed to take within the hospital unit. Everyone else in the hospital were members of the Priest wing under the leader of Archbishop Williams. She didn’t like having Knights work in her hospital, but they served their uses, and not all of them were bad. Faith hit a few commands into her data pad and prepared her staff to take care of the prisoner. They would be able to do wonders to help him, but for now, she needed a shower and rest. It wasn’t even a day into her three-day shift, and she knew it was going to be a long and arduous one.
   She maneuvered amongst the corridors and wings with ease, finding herself by her quarters quickly. She grasped the handle, and instinctively made her way inside. The DNA signature scanner didn’t even pause. The room was barren, as was required; a small table with chairs, a kitchenette, and small bed lying next to the window leading to the quad outside. It showed that she wasn’t paying attention to what was going on, because as she took off her coat and threw it onto the chair to her side, it spoke.
   “Wow, good to know you notice me.” Sir Lucas laughed a bit.
   “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Lady Faith shook her head, it must have been a long day if she didn’t even notice her fiance waiting for her.
   She kissed him quickly on the cheek as she threw herself onto the chair. Sir Lucas just smiled at her as he sipped a cup of coffee, then lifted the cup in that “Want some?” sort of way. Lady Faith shook her head, and just leaned her head against the wall, her closed eyes staring towards the ceiling. She didn’t have too much time for a break, a few minutes’ tops. There was too much work to do, but she needed a few moments to rest.
   “So, how is your assignment?” Lady Faith asked
   “He’s half Illuminati.” Sir Lucas’ voice was coarse, angry.
   Lady Faith sat up and looked towards her fiance. She knew how much this assignment meant to him, but to train someone who was half Illuminati was an insult to his skills. She had no faith in the upper echelon of power within the Knights, the Lord Protector was proof of that. But, she couldn’t begin to understand what was going on through Sir Lucas’ mind right now.
   “What are you going to do?” She asked quietly.
   “My assignment. I have no choice.” He stated quickly as he took a sip of coffee, “But, I do have a new assignment.”
   “Oh yeah, what is it?” She asked, her interest in Knight matters wasn’t exactly on her main spectrum.
   “It was passed down to me from up high.”
   “Really?”
   “I have to arrest someone who defied the Lord Protector. There’s an execution order placed on their head.” Sir Lucas seemed eerily hollow, unfeeling.
   Lady Faith paused. Her heart began to race. She could feel each pump of her heart, and it seemed as if it would explode out of her chest. She rubbed the back of her neck, the short blonde hair migrating between her fingers. Her eyes remained on Lucas and his expression; she needed more information. She knew who he was looking for. He was looking for her.
   “And?”
   “That’s why I am here.” Sir Lucas didn’t even look up; his eyes remained on his coffee.
   “So, you are going to arrest me? The woman you love is going to die for doing what was right?” Her heart sank, she tried to remain strong, but she didn’t know which was worse being arrested, or knowing her fiance would pick duty over love.
   “I have to. I have no choice.” Sir Lucas remained stoic.
   “You have a choice. Stand beside me Lucas, that boy would have died if it wasn’t for me. He-”
   “I don’t want to hear it Faith.” Lucas interrupted her, and continued, “We have a duty to our God. God proclaimed the Lord Protector and Archbishop as the voices of the king. We are to do his bidding, and keep his word. We commit blasphemy if we do not listen to him” Lucas looked up with his hard eyes.
   “His bidding?” Tears began to stream down her face, she knew that Lucas picking duty over her was worse than being arrested. “His bidding is wrong Lucas. God would not want this. We are to do his bidding, but we have free will.”
   “There is more between Heaven and Earth, and you know that Faith. We cannot begin to comprehend God’s word.”
   “You’re an asshole.” Faith stood up and headed towards the door, Lucas followed and grabbed her arm.
Lucas’ fingers were tight around her wrist. They hurt, but she ignored the pain. The pain which resided in her heart at this moment hurt more. She raised her hand, and with a quick movement, slapped him in the face.
   “I hope you like being alone Lucas. I hope your God means more than your one love.” Faith spoke through her teeth, her anger seething through. She continued, “If you loved me, you’d let me go.”
   “I do love you.” Sir Lucas stared into her eyes. He was quiet for a moment, “But I’m only going to give you an hour head start.”

***

Present Day…

   His eyes were blurry. His body hurt with burns that extended over his arms and legs. The sounds he heard all around him were muffled, almost as if someone covered his ears with large blocks of stone. He didn’t know which way was truly up, but he could feel the warm sand all around him. Every so often, there was an explosion. The blast was muffled, but the vibrations shook every muscle and sinew in his body.
He looked up and could see someone looking at him, leaning over him. Their face was masked by shadow as the sun sat directly above their head forming a Heavenly halo. This angel was trying to say something, but it came out in incoherent sounds. He could feel a hand on his shoulder. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife?
Slowly the angels’ face came into focus, and slowly he could begin to understand, truly understand the sounds around him. The woman had a kind smile. It reassured him that everything would be alright.
   “What’s your name?” The angel asked. He could finally understand her.
   “Caleb, Caleb Turner.” He whispered; he could barely speak. He wasn’t even going to try and get into specifics about rank.
   “My name is Faith. Nice to meet you Caleb.”

(To be continued…)

A Little About Our License and How if Effects You.

2010-03-23T23:09:00.000-04:00

Hey Humanity! Sebron here with a short discussion that I think will help clarify some things about just how you submit works to SH. This is the Creative Commons License for Splintered Humanity...

Splintered Humanity by Splintered Humanity Publishing is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.

Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at admin@splinteredhumanity.com.

What exactly does this mean to you? Well for starters this tells you that, yes we do indeed own Splintered Humanity in every legal sense, this also says that one short line must be included somewhere in your work, preferably near the title. "Based upon Splintered Humanity (CC); Splintered Humanity Publishing." This tells the world that you are using our intellectual property with permissions granted under the Creative Commons license. This means you already have permission to base your works on our IP, in this way we all work together to make Splintered Humanity a better, richer, living world.

The second thing that our form of the Creative Commons license does is tell you exactly what permissions you have. See those three symbols there after the CC, those are the permissions. The first, "BY" says that you must attribute, or make it obvious, that the work is based upon our work here at Splintered Humanity Publishing. The next is the "NC" or non-commercial symbol. This says that anything you make can not be used for commercial purposes, that is you can not make money off what you create. This is one of those negotiable clauses, where if you have a great idea that can make a bunch of money we're willing to talk about granting permissions under a personal contract. The last is the "SA" or Share Alike clause. This simply states that your work must use some form of the Creative Commons license, which we will work personally with each community designer to pick a license that suits your needs.

Now in turn, if you make a great story that we just need to have in the final product, and you decided to use the non-commercial clause... Well then we need to talk and probably enter into a personal contract for use of the work, something we are prepared to do. This is one of those great situations where the more of us there are, the more we can all win.

I hope this clarifies a few things for you guys, and remember we are always monitoring the inbox for submissions, questions, ideas, etc...

Have a great night Humanity, you deserve it.

Splintered Humanity: Superiority Complex Ch 4 (SPS!)

2010-03-20T18:32:00.000-04:00

Splintered Humanity:
Superiority Complex

Part 4

By

Jeremy Mombourquette

   Squire Turner began to type furiously. He pounded away at the keys like someone’s life depended on it. The reality of the matter was that it actually did. Someone’s life mattered on his actions at this very moment. Sir Lucas’ suit was completely inert. There was no communication. No signs of life. Nothing. He was a sitting duck as the Illuminati member toyed with him. Turner could hear the communications coming from the enemy craft. The enemy was psychotic, and the word murderer echoed in his head like a dull church bell. It was distracting him. Turner knew that somehow, Sir Lucas’ suit was hacked into. That much he knew. Turner just had to figure out what kind of virus was used, and how to stop it.
   “God damn it!” He yelled as he pounded the control console with both of his fists.
He was the type that didn’t work well under pressure. He needed time. He needed focus. This was not one of those instances where things would work out in your favor. A life depended on his success.
   “So, a Knight of Saint George?” The voice cackled, its communication was jumbled from the static. Turner himself hacked into the system only to find this. The voice continued, “This is going to be fun.”
No sound came from Sir Lucas’ ship. More than likely, Turner thought, it was a one-way communication from the Illuminati to Sir Lucas. All of the controls it seemed were also in the control of the enemy. But, what could have done this? Turner continued to go through various programming and data feeds on the Scout’s computer systems. Somehow he had to bypass the virus and input some sort of firewall, even if it was only temporary enough to give Sir Lucas time to counterattack. This was not going to be easy.
   Turner hated hard situations.

***

   Akira loved toying with his enemy. It was fun, too fun. It was like one of those games you played as a child, Marco Polo Akira thought it was called. Whoever Marco Polo was, that is? Akira loved to put the enemy in perpetual darkness and shut off all of their systems except the ones he wanted. In the case of this Knight, the operating system was a mere communications channel. The Knight was “it” in this game; having to find Akira was going to be impossible. Akira’s smile was gleeful, like a serial killer after his latest murder.
   “Marco.” Akira called coyly.
   He activated his Wraith class suit’s telekinetic operations terminal, mostly in order to free up his hands so he could hack into additional systems on the Knight of Saint George’s suit. It was an expensive upgrade, the ability to operate it with one’s mind alone, but it was definitely worth it. The two Vibro-blades Akira held in the suit’s hands began to sing with an almost harp-like quality of sound as they activated. He charged forward stabbing with his right hand, and slashing with the left. There were two sequential explosions.
   “Polo!” He yelled as the blades made contact.
   He chose to let the Knight’s suit continue standing.

***

   Turner was growing more and more frightened as the seconds turned to minutes. Everything he tried, every operation he took, every piece of code he tried to add, and every illegal computer program he had installed was not working like it was supposed to. This Illuminati member was good, too good. Turner was trying to figure out what he could do. Thoughts, feelings, ideas, possibilities, probabilities, everything flowed through his subconscious at once. He was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He couldn’t think straight. He wanted to go home.
   Could it be a nano-virus?
   No, it couldn’t have been that. If it was there would be nothing operating on Sir Lucas’ suit, not even the communication uplink.
   A Trojan?
   There was no way it could be. It would have required time, too much time, like a day to hack into a system such as a suit.
   A hyper-worm?
   Turner laughed at himself. If it was a hyper-worm, there would have been traces of odd data on the computer feed.
   Wait…
   Maybe?
   Possibly?
   Turner began to punch in commands, and pulled the handheld computer out of the terminal dock. If there was a virus of some sort, having the handheld in the Scout’s dock was dangerous. He needed to keep it separate, just in case. Turner scanned the programming data as it scrolled before him on the Scout’s screen. He was looking for something specific, something that no one would be able to notice. It was going to be an innocuous piece of data. The only reason the Scout would have been able to pick it up was due to the network link between the suit and it. Turner’s eyes darted back and forth, back and forth, up and down, up and down.
   Then he found it.
   It started on one line with a simple question, “Want to play a game?”. Scrolling down through the data there was a follow-up question, “How about global thermonuclear war?”. It was so simple. Lines of data, thousands of lines, millions of lines and this was the sign he was looking for. Turner scratched his head a bit, twentieth century pop-culture? Really? Turner thought it was really clichéd actually.
   “Noob.” Turner laughed as he began to work.
   He started by isolating the data from the virus. It was all simple, easily able to find actually, hidden data coded into lines with, again, more twentieth century pop-culture references. Turner cringed when he saw a line from an old cartoon, something involving the capture and release of certain animals with abilities. All of this was making Turner more and more desperate to find a solution so Sir Lucas could take the bastard out. All these lines of “bad” pop-culture references were starting to annoy him.
   Then the explosions came.
   The Illuminati member was making his move. Turner watched in horror as the Paladin X-23 took damage. He couldn’t see too clearly from his vantage point so high in the sky, but it literally looked like one of the swords the Illuminati carried went through the gut of Sir Lucas’ suit. Turner was frantic. His mind went all over the place again. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t think of what to do next. What button did he press? What was the next step?
   “Oh my God! What do I do? What do I do?” He squeaked.
   He had the data, but what did he do with it now? This was so easy on a smaller computer in a non-combat situation. He sat there a moment, data still scrolling in front of him. Delete the data? No, that couldn’t work. Could it?
   He deleted the data.
   The data scroll changed. He could hear a voice, a friendly voice, a familiar voice.
   “Faith, how are the systems?!” It was Sir Lucas. It seemed like Turner made some headway.
   “Sir?” He asked meekly.
   “Turner? Is that you?”
   “Sir Lucas! Yeah, it’s me!”
   “Turner, all of my systems are off. You need to help me. What happened?”
   “It’s a virus, the guy hacked into you. I think, or hope, I can get rid of it. It’s just going to take time.” Turner’s voice was hollow, too scared to utter real syllables.
   “We don’t have time! Can you input a firewall?” Sir Lucas’ was as frantic as Turner now.
   “Yeah? But…”
   There was suddenly the sound of another explosion. Communication was lost for a brief second.
   “Sir Lucas?” Turner’s voice was even quieter.
   “Turner get that damned firewall up now!” Sir Lucas yelled, his voice the sound of pure unadulterated rage.
   Turner paused. He breathed in deeply. He turned back towards the handheld data computer and activated a set of programs. He held his breath and then with the force like the fist of an angry god jammed the computer into the Scout’s terminal. He hit a few buttons and then crossed his fingers. He still hadn’t taken another breath yet…

***

   Sir Lucas continued to sit in the darkness, the light from the communication terminal reflecting off of his face. It wasn’t often that he yelled, really yelled, at Squire Turner. If anything, it was a truly rare occurrence, but this was one of those situations where it really mattered. Sir Lucas could feel the Paladin X-23 rocked from attack blows of the Illuminati member. The temperature inside the cockpit was rising as a result. With no cooling or atmospheric control, no ability to see the outside world, hell with no power itself, he was baking. Between the desert temperature, and the heat from the damage, Sir Lucas estimated the temperature inside the suit to be around one hundred, to one hundred and ten degrees. Sweat poured off of his head. His suit stuck to his neck. Sir Lucas was starting to feel nauseous.
   As he closed his eyes for a bit to regain his own mind from the pounding headache, he quietly wondered if this was it. Was this his last stand? Was standing here on Earth, on a supposed diplomatic mission, and being ambushed his final stand? Would he die with honor, or just as another number without even fighting back? He didn’t like any of these prospects, but there was nothing he could do. Unless Turner hacked into the system and placed a firewall, this would become his coffin…
   Suit systems at forty percent. We are in the warning zone.
   Sir Lucas was now hearing things. He would have sworn it. There was no way Turner could have gotten the systems working that quickly. None whatsoever. Was this truly the end, in delusion?
Suit systems at forty percent. We are in the warning zone. Please respond Sir Lucas.
He heard it again. He knew he did.
   “Sir, I got the systems working! You should be fully powered up in a minute!” Squire Turner’s voice was a mixture of excitement and pure exhaustion. Turner wracked his mind under a situation that possibly no one could feasibly deal with; he had a right to be exhausted.
   “Turner?” Sir Lucas was still in disbelief.
   “Yes sir.” Turner paused, then quickly called out, “Watch out!”
Sir Lucas didn’t even realize the suit was now powered up. He was stuck in the heat for so long that the fact that the temperature was slowly falling, and the terminal screens were now on, didn’t even register to him. He was staring at the viewing screen and he could see the Illuminati member charging in full speed towards him. Apparently this bastard was getting cocky, his cloaking shield was off.
The explosion rocked the suit. Faith began to call out, her programmed voice showing as much concern as a computerized voice could.
   Suit at twenty percent. Evasive maneuvers must be taken!
   “Oh no we don’t! Time to get even!” Sir Lucas yelled, he knew it was a clichéd comment, a completely and utterly clichéd comment, but it was the truest statement he could make.
He began to activate the suit’s combat systems. The suit moved much slower than normal, but it was something he could deal with. The left arm was moving the slowest, so the shield would be of little use now. He positioned himself in a defensive stance, again, holding the sword low and behind him with the blade facing out. This was either going to work, or not. Sir Lucas could see the Wraith class ship, why it wasn’t cloaked now was a mystery to him. Something was up with this, but he couldn’t figure out why. It didn’t really matter at this point.
   “Sir, it doesn’t seem like he’s cloaking.” Turner stated, more in a quizzical matter than anything else.
   “Does it matter?”
   “No, but it doesn’t seem weird to you?” Turner asked again.
   “Turner, I don’t exactly have the time.”
   “I’m just saying….”
   Turner’s voice was drowned out as Lucas focused in on the oncoming enemy. He could see the blades reflect the afternoon sunlight, and he could hear the barely audible hum of the weapon. It was amazing how much of a turn around this was all of a sudden. To go from despair to hope in the matter of minutes was an amazing thing to happen. God was gracing the Knight with his blessing on this day. There was a smile on Sir Lucas’ face like nothing one had seen before. This had been the first time he had smiled, really and truly smiled, since he had lost someone very close to him.
   The Wraith was close now, about a hundred feet away. Sir Lucas was holding his ground. He would have to act quickly. He brought the shield up.
   The Wraith was closer now, no less than fifty feet. Sir Lucas prepared his movements for the upcoming counter.
   The Wraith was extremely close now, less than ten feet. Sir Lucas flicked his left wrist and activated a set procedure of commands. It was the Consecration EMP. As the command was activated a bright bold of yellow electrical energy surged out of the Paladin X-23 and caught the Wraith in the blast zone. It went down like a rock in a shallow pond. The Illuminati member landed in the sand face first with a crash that even Turner could hear from the Scout. Sir Lucas took this opportunity to make another move, and as the Wraith fell, he rose his blade up cutting right through the torso of the enemy suit.
   As it landed, the Wraith class suit just lay there. Not moving. Sentient. For some reason, Sir Lucas didn’t exactly think he won at this particular moment….

***

   Akira was pissed. All of his operating systems were instantaneously shut down with an EMP. He didn’t even see it coming. How was he supposed to know that Knights of Saint George used EMP’s? It wasn’t exactly something that was known in the hacker circles. An EMP, really? Akira had to laugh though, even despite how pissed off he was right this very second. Touché, Knight, touché.
   Akira slammed a button on the suit’s operational terminal, a small button about the size of a small coin. It was dusty from years of non-use. This was one of those instances where he would need to reboot his system, and rebooting systems wasn’t something the Illuminati often had to do. The suit slowly powered up. First the atmospheric control, then the viewing terminals, the computer terminals came next, and finally the controls.
   “Well, well, well Mr. Knight. Nice move. I didn’t even see it coming.”
   Akira turned the suit around and faced the Knight, and that’s when he saw it. There was a Scout hovering above the battlefield. Akira didn’t see it before, but it all was starting to make sense now. He was wondering how the Knight gained control of his suit, but they were full of surprises these Knights. He merely assumed this particular individual was just good. Apparently he was wrong, very wrong, and this Knight had a little peon doing his work for him. Who knew what sort of technology they had on that small little ship? Weapons? Extended communications? Hacking capabilities? Akira laughed at the last one, a Knight of Saint George hacking, that was rich. This Scout would be easily dealt with though. Akira smiled as he aimed his wrist gun at the ship. It wasn’t that he had any sort of powerful firepower with this gun, but he was going to make things very interesting.
   Akira liked to think that neither of them saw it coming as he launched a viral pod at the Scout. This one was particularly powerful, a nano-virus that acted instantaneously as it made contact with a computerized system. As the pod made contact Akira could see the Scout suddenly lose power, and the pilot attempting to gain control. It would have been impossible to beat the virus in this way, and Akira knew it. Heck, he designed the virus himself. As the Scout began to lose altitude, Akira pressed a couple of commands. The Scout accelerated, and crashed into the sand with a loud and fiery explosion.
There was silence, absolute silence. The type of silence that only occurs in ones deepest, and darkest nightmares. Despite the fire that erupted from the desert sand, there was no sound. The Knight stood there in shock, Akira knew it, there was no way anyone could see that coming. Akira just cherished this moment. If only he had seen the Scout earlier, then he could have enjoyed an easier battle. But, que sera sera as his mother always said. What will be, will be. Akira just enjoyed this few brief moments of chaos.
Then the blue screen hit.
   He didn’t exactly know what it was at the beginning, but all of his terminal screens flashed a bright blue for a quick second. As they returned to normal he scratched his head and began to think that he was seeing things. But, just as quickly as the screen flashed, it permanently turned blue. All in all, it took only about ten seconds for this to occur, but it was enough time to get Akira’s attention.
   “What the fuck?” He said quietly.
   This wasn’t any sort of hacking program from the Knight, Akira knew that for certain. No, this was an old virus. A very old virus. He marveled at the simplicity of it all. A blue screen of death, who would have figured? Akira began to punch commands into the computer console with quiet ease. He didn’t worry about the Paladin suit waiting out there for him. This would take a minute or two.
   He punched a few numbers. Nothing. He laughed and shook his head.
   He punched in a few more codes, then activating a couple of programs. Nothing. Akira looked quizzically at the screen in front of him.
   He began to punch in even more codes, even more numbers and programs. Still nothing. The suit didn’t do a damn thing. All there was, was a blue screen. Akira’s eyes were opened wide. Whoever was fucking with him right now was going to pay. No one fucks with Akira Tokugawa.
   “Hello Mr. Tokugawa.” The face of the Reichstag officer, the one he made a deal with earlier, was speaking to him on the communication terminal. He continued, “Thank you for our deal.”
   Akira didn’t even have time to reply. The explosion that rocked the Wraith was as if the very atoms which comprised the suit, and Akira, were pulled apart individually. It vaporized the Illuminati. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of the suit, or Akira, just a charred mark left where the suit was once standing.

(To be continued...)

Splintered Humanity: Superiority Complex Ch 3 (SPS!)

2010-03-20T18:22:00.003-04:00

Hey Humanity, Sneak Peek Saturday returns with more of Superiority Complex. This week is a two parter, as we present chapters three and four from Mombo's epic story that launches us into the present day of the MMO world of Splintered Humanity! I hope you enjoy these as much as we here all have. Don't forget to join us on Facebook for extra content!

Splintered Humanity:
Superiority Complex

Part 3

By

Jeremy Mombourquette

   The drop ship buzzed in excitement. Sir Lucas and Squire Turner hurried about the hanger with expert precision. Every movement, every motion was calculated. Sir Lucas finished putting on his flight gloves, his suit put on much earlier in the morning. The activated sensors on the gloves lit up as his fingertips made contact with the cloth lining. Sir Lucas had a look on his face of sheer ease and focus. Squire Turner began activating the preparation procedures.
   “Flight suit activated?” Turner asked.
   “Flight suit activated. Sensors running at one hundred percent.” Sir Lucas replied in the scripted dance-like way that was the norm in a situation such as this. He double-checked the terminal sensors on the top of each of his hands.
   “Mechanized suit ready, you may begin boarding.” Turner voiced as the workroom shut down. Grabbing his handheld computer, Turner began the final checklist manually.
“Ready to board.” Sir Lucas’ hand was on the arm of the Paladin X-23 suit. It seemed as if he were in some sort of Zen-like zone as he said a quiet prayer to himself. Again, even this moment was scripted.
Sir Lucas jumped onto a small ladder. Normally, the suit would be standing, and there would be a lift to allow him to enter the cockpit, but this was different. In a drop ship there is no such room to have a standing suit, instead it lies down, and one enters by literally walking on top of it. This was definitely not the ideal situation, but they had to make due. Sir Lucas’ boots tapped as he walked along the arm, and then on the chest, the echo reverberating along the walls. Tap. Tap. Tap. There was no other sound beyond the tapping. As he neared the cockpit he waved his hand, the sensors on his fingertips and palm glowed a bright blue, in response the chest cavity of the suit slowly opened. There was a strange epic sense as the Knight prepared to enter the cockpit. Sir Lucas stepped into the seat almost in pure slow motion, and took his seat at the controls. As the cockpit closed and the sound of hydraulic fluid and pressurization filled the ears of those around, Sir Lucas began to smile in that scripted cocky smile of his.
   “Boarded.” You could almost hear the smile on Sir Lucas’ face, “Beginning power up procedures.”
Turner walked over to a door on the opposite side of the hanger, continuously punching commands into his computer. His head didn’t even look up, his focus remained on the small screen in front of him. One could see the light green light reflecting off of his goggles. The hanger door opened automatically as he neared, and it revealed a second much smaller hanger. Waiting for him inside was a small ship known as a Scout. Turner was going to be taking this ship to accompany Sir Lucas on the diplomatic mission. The capabilities on a normal Scout were limited to basic communication and simple radar and sensory capabilities, but Turner heavily modified his. He was one of the few squires who could successfully tweak a Scout with very limited resources, and limited time. There was talk, and rumors, that he should instead becoming a development or weapons engineer, but others talked about the possibility that he could becoming a Justicar. Sir Lucas ignored all of these rumors, and focused on Turner’s training. Without proper training, it wouldn’t matter what Turner could or couldn’t do. God knew that Turner still needed lots of training.
   “Launch in t-minus two minutes.” Turner called to Sir Lucas through the com-link as he took a seat in the Scout.
   Sir Lucas lay in his seat, his view screen pointed towards the ceiling of the hanger. The seat and cockpit moved back into flight position as the launch time neared. He could feel the seat rotate slowly upwards, if the gravity were turned off inside the hanger, he would have been sick to his stomach. Sir Lucas hated this part of the boarding procedures in a drop ship. There was another sound of heavy pressurization as the cockpit’s atmosphere equalized to that of the hanger. Every now and then Sir Lucas waved his hand, and the suits systems came into operation; first the main computer, then the viewing screen, then the combat screens. Weapons systems initialized last, Sir Lucas didn’t think he’d need them, but it was never a bad idea to have them ready.
   "Good afternoon Sir Lucas." The voice was eerily human, so much so if one wasn’t aware of the origin, or the syntax with which it communicated, they wouldn’t be able to identify it at all.
   “Good afternoon Faith. Prepare for launch procedure D1.”
   "Very well Sir. All systems are initialized."
   Turner heard everything on the Scout’s communication systems. He was also completing the initialization protocols on his end. A shoulder strap secured his body to the seat, and he activated the launch procedures for the Scout. The computer systems whirred and buzzed as they came online. His heart raced a bit. Despite having done these procedures hundreds of times, he was still worried about screwing something up. He closed his eyes as each of the Scout’s systems came online, he breathed deeply with each passing second trying to calm his nerves.
   “Preparing to unlock Suit and scout. We are entering Earth’s atmosphere.” Turner stated as he pressed a pattern of buttons on both the Scout and the handheld computer. He opened his eyes at the very last possible second; he just had that knack for doing things at the last possible moment. The handheld then went into a dock that sat on the Scout’s operations terminal to his right. Even in the Scout he could hear the locks being removed from the small ship and the suit. They sounded like a metallic gong, and to him it was a very haunting melody.
   “Removing artificial gravity. Launch in thirty seconds.” Turner voiced, in a much less scripted manner than usual.
   Sir Lucas could feel his body lighten as the artificial gravity systems deactivated. In order to properly launch, they would be dropping from sub-gravity, and removing the artificial gravity systems helped ensure the launch systems operated perfectly. He continued to activate commands into the computer, and turned on a small computer on the dashboard to his upper left, he could see Squire Turner. Squire Turner was in the midst of finishing his procedures; Sir Lucas wasn’t about to bother him with idle chatter. It wasn’t his style anyways.
Launch in ten seconds.
   “Ready for launch.” Sir Lucas stated, placing his palms above sensors on the arm rests of the suit’s seat.
   “Ready for launch.” Squire Turner stated as he grabbed the scout’s controls.
   “Launch is a go.” Both Sir Lucas and Squire Turner voiced this at nearly the same time.

***

   Akira sat in the Wraith class suit, the suit itself kneeling in the desert sand. The flames from the diplomatic envoy’s broken, battered, and destroyed suits lay all around him. He smiled as he turned up the music in his cockpit. This was child’s play, and an easy eighty-five million credits, plus the free upgrade of two Vibro-Blade’s made this job easily worth it. All he had to do was take out this target and he was done. It was an easy job, somewhat too easy though.
   Akira thought that he was just that good. That’s why Reichstag asked him, didn’t they?
His radar began to scream, the sounds of a new target overtaking the sound of the metal playing on the speakers behind his head. His gaze immediately jumped. There was someone above him. All indications were that this target didn’t see him yet, his actions didn’t indicate any defensive or offensive tactics. Akira noted though that this individual didn’t have the same energy or power signatures as the envoy, all indicators were that this was a suit built for battle. Even still, they didn’t see him yet. He smiled again, and powered up his cloaking shield.
   “Nice! A bonus.”
   He began to cackle.

***

   A target has appeared below.
   “What kind of target?” Sir Lucas asked Faith, a funny and ironic name for his computer system.
   "I am reading a quick signature of an Illuminati suit."
   “What about the envoy?”
   "I read only one life signature."
   “Turner! How many life signature’s are you reading?” Sir Lucas called to Turner.
   The Paladin X-23 and Scout hurtled down towards Earth. The jump boosters slowed the decent on the suit, while backwards thrusters lowered the speed of the Scout as the ground and desert neared. The friction of re-entry caused the white suit to glow red from heat. In a strange way seeing the suit, which looked like an old fashioned knight in a suit of gleaming bright white armor hurtling towards Earth, was eerily beautiful.
   “I’m not reading anything.” Turner said quizzically, then continued, “The coordinates are correct, but there’s no one there.”
   “My computer read a signature, she said it was an Illuminati suit.” Sir Lucas’ voice was as confused as Squire Turner’s.
   “Illuminati? What the hell would they be doing here?”
   “I don’t know. I want you to stay within scanning range. Scan all communication channels. I want to know what happened to the envoy, and I want to know who, or what exactly, is around.”
   “Yes sir.”
   They didn’t have to wait long to find out. As the suit landed, the echoes of destruction were all around them. Even behind a viewing screen, Sir Lucas’ eyes were wide in horror. Experience on the battlefield didn’t prepare him for something of the magnitude that was before him. It was something he would never have imagined, ever. He had fought in brief battles. He had seen his friends, his comrades, his enemies fall around him, but he had never seen this kind of carnage. The burned and charred corpses of the envoy were visible in their cockpits as he surveyed the destruction. He held back the anger brewing beneath, but every flame he saw, every plume of smoke he walked through made that increasingly difficult. Regardless if they were, or were not, blasphemous in the face of God, they were human. No one deserved this.
   “Turner! Readings.” Sir Lucas yelled.
   “I’m not reading anything sir.”
   “Damnit, there has to be something. Look at this!”
   “There’s nothing. I’m scanning all of the communication channels, there’s nothing. It’s almost as if it’s solely dead air.” Turner paused, “I didn’t mean it in that way sir.”
   “Find something,” Sir Lucas tried to calm his emotions, but he was too pissed off to even notice the comment Turner made, “Anything.”
   Lucas scanned whatever he could via his computers, but he couldn’t find anything. He prepared his weapons for battle mode. A flick of the wrist, and the shield held on the left arm of the suit moved into position and rotated into the suit’s hand. Purple energy flared on the outside of the shield when it was in position. His right arm grabbed an energy blade held magnetically to the side. Another flick of Sir Lucas’ wrist, and the blade extended to twice its size. A third flick of his wrist, and the gattling guns Turner installed earlier moved into position. Sir Lucas hoped he was ready for anything, it certainly seemed like he was from the sight of the battle prepared suit.
   A slash, an explosion.
   “Fuck! What the hell was that?” Sir Lucas yelled as the cockpit rocked and roared from the blow of something.
   Damage to the right leg, beneath the knee joint. Damage minor, shields activated.
   “I don’t know sir, I didn’t read anything.” Turner stammered as he quickly moved in the Scout from communication terminal, to radar, back to communication terminal, then back to the radar.
“Something attacked me.” Sir Lucas anger finally bubbled over. “Damnit, I cannot see anything. There is no one on my viewing screen!”
   Another explosion, this one more subdued as the shields flashed a bright green holding back most of the damage.
   Shields down to ninety percent.
   Sir Lucas looked frantically around, but he couldn’t see anything. Then it hit him, it hit him like a rookie being faced with his first indiscretion. The initial reading was of an Illuminati ship and now there are no signals anywhere. There was a cloaked suit nearby, and it was the person who killed the envoy. It didn’t take a genius to figure this out, but Sir Lucas felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier.
   “Turner, it’s cloaked. Run infrared and ultraviolet scanners. I need to find this bastard.” Sir Lucas stated as he began to go for the enemy the old fashioned way.
   “Yes sir, activating sensors now and patching them into your radar screen.”
   Another explosion. This time from the lower back of the suit.
   "Shields down to sixty percent."
   It took a few minutes, but the sensors were finally patched in. Sir Lucas saw the enemy on the screen. He was moving fast, too fast. This Illuminati member wasn’t staying put in one place for more than a second or two, and Sir Lucas had never seen anything like it. This was going to be tough. As Sir Lucas contemplated an attack, the enemy suit charged towards him from the front. Arming the shield in front of him, the sword held low and towards the back, Sir Lucas waited. The Wraith class closed in. A quick swipe. Sir Lucas’ sword made contact with the gut of the enemy suit.
   The Wraith appeared for a moment, stopped and stunned on its feet. Oil and sparks gushed from the gash through the stomach and side, but it remained standing. It was the strangest looking suit Sir Lucas had ever seen in his life. It was just the base skeleton, it had no armor attachments whatsoever, and the weapons, the weapons caused his eyes to bulge out of his head.
   “He’s armed with Reichstag weapons, do you see that Turner?”
   “Yes sir. I’m seeing it.”
   “He’s armed with fucking Reichstag Vibro-blades.” Sir Lucas growled.
   “I’m still scanning the communication channels. I’m going to try and contact the Tribe of Four Winds encampment.”
   The Wraith suddenly cloaked again. Sir Lucas still had the enemy on infrared though; catching this early was a God’s send. Suddenly, there was nothing. Literally nothing. Darkness. Sir Lucas lost all power and all of his systems. He waved his hands, but the Paladin X-23 didn’t respond. Fear suddenly began to settle in, he couldn’t see the enemy. He couldn’t fight the enemy. He was alone in the water.
   “Turner, can you hear me? Turner!” Sir Lucas yelled
   There was no response but the echo of his own voice in the cockpit of the suit.
   “Faith, systems report!”
   Again, there was no response…

***

   Akira was giddy like a schoolchild. This was way too easy. Yeah, the Paladin got in a good hit towards his chest, but Akira successfully hacked into the power systems of the suit. Akira was an awesome hacker, but he wasn’t this good. Now, one of the strongest factions in the cosmos had one its knights, the shiny clean Knight of Saint George, standing helpless before him. Who needs armor when you have pure unadulterated speed? That’s what Akira loved, to attack before the enemy even knew what hit them.
He laughed again.
   Akira played back the hacking in his head as he waited for a few moments. He loved toying with his opponents in a situation such as this, make them fear what is around them was a drug that you couldn’t buy on the street. The unknown is the scariest thing there is. To make an enemy quake and have their last feeling before they die be fear was pure bliss to him. The hit Akira made to the back of the Paladin suit made this all possible. It was a quick movement, a slash from the right arm. When he hit with the Vibro-Blade, a launcher on his right forearm nailed the bug onto the back of the suit at the same time. It was a beautiful shot. If they had an academy, it would have been called textbook.
   Akira debated allowing only a communication line between he and the Knight. He could do that. It was a matter of a few simple codes, in actuality it was something much easier to do than turning off all of the power to the suit. He continued to debate it, then decided that it was, in fact, a great idea. He had never killed a Knight of Saint George before, what a great way to start off the trend by talking to his victim first.
He tapped a few buttons to a keyboard to his right and a screen to his left activated. He could see the Knight sitting in his cockpit, alone amongst the darkness of his suit. He had a look of anger, of fear, of uncertainty. Akira loved it.
   “Why hello there. My name is Akira, and I will be your murderer today.” Akira snidely cackled to the Knight.

(To be continued...)

The Hand of God.

2010-03-19T17:49:00.001-04:00

Hey there Humanity! Its Friday and that means I am finally ready to release my first work in almost eleven years to the public. If you are a Facebook friend then you may have seen this posted in a Midnight pre-release there. I hope you all enjoy and that this story taken from one of the events in the timeline for Block One. This story will tell about how the Hand of God changed one important life, and really that's all any story is at its core. I hope this will get all of you in our community creating and inspire you just as the wonderful works from Mombo undoubtedly have. Don't forget to check in tomorrow afternoon for the next TWO CHAPTERS in Superiority Complex! Yup, a double feature for Sneak Peak Saturday! Stay tuned Humanity!

Splintered Humanity:
The Hand of God
Part 1

By

Raymond Corsetti

   It was the middle of January in the year of Two Thousand One Hundred Ten, and the recycled air of Earth Colony One had that same stale scent that it always had. It was the night shift, and Myalynn hated working the night shift. In the two and a half years since her brother and herself had been evacuated to the colony things had only gotten worse on Earth. She wished every night that she would see the last bullets fly in this war, that perhaps there was a light at the end of the tunnel, but she knew that neither the European Union nor the Muslim/Arabic Trade Federation would back down. The Asian/American Union had done much in the span of the war to save many refugees including Myalynn and her brother. Their parents hadn't been so lucky.
Earth Colony One stood as a beacon for the planet, perched upon the lunar surface. This colony was once only the beginning, the first in a three stage project to colonize the solar system. The war on Earth took away the funding for the other two planned stations on Mars and Titan. Rumors that the colonial government was secretly hoarding materials for the continuation of the project always buzzed the corridors of the colony. The colony worked much like a bee hive centered around Commander Havershim's steady governing. Myalynn was just a small drone in the hive, one of many. She was still a young girl of only eighteen with short cropped strawberry hair and blue eyes the color of the sky over the small French village where she grew up. Saying she was small was an understatement. She measured in at just under one and a half meters, but despite her diminutive size she kept herself in amazing physical shape and had attended the mandatory defense training classes, and then some. Life was rough on the colony and as a small girl she learned quickly to defend herself, and not just from boys; the women had their gangs as well.
   Her career choice as a logistics officer gave her much needed down time from her brother and classes. Myalynn dozed off at her radar panel, which was concentrated on Western Europe at the moment, showing the blips from fighter jets and unmanned drones from all three armies. She remembered her time growing up in Northern France and how nice the hills would be this time of year. She started to drift into a dream of running through the snow covered hills with some boy whose name she could hardly remember when a din, the likes of which she hadn't heard in a long time broke her dream. Alarms were sounding all around her, she must have pushed the thruster control of the radar satellite when she dozed off and now her particular radar satellite was pointing in the opposite direction directly out into deep space. That's when she saw it on her screen, a meteor, roughly One Hundred Fifty kilometers across and hurtling towards Earth. It seems that with the colony's systems dedicated to monitoring the war and helping the AAU they had forgotten to keep an eye on the big picture and missed this object now headed for a crash course with Earth.
   The Chief of the Watch approached her station and asked her plainly, "What have you got Mya?"
   Her answer came slowly as if it pained her to say it, "I'm not too sure Sir, but I think there is something big out there."
   "Seriously, you are supposed to be watching Europe. What the hell could be headed in from there that is large enough to set off the warning system?"
   "Well Sir..." She started almost choking on her words. "I, umm... I was, well.. Sir."
   "Dammit Girl, spit it out already." The Chief was getting upset, visibly so. Myalynn could tell from the vein in his temple. She figured this was the time to come clean.
   "Sir, this station is no longer monitoring Earth. I accidentally turned it around-"
   "You, what?" His yell reverberated through the command deck.
   The lash of his words snapped Myalynn into full alertness and she knew what she had to tell him, "Sir, I think there is something headed on a collision course with Earth from outside the solar system."
   "Ensign Myalynn Takain, you are relieved from duty. Please report to sick bay."
   "Sir, I am not sick. Just look at the screen for yourself."
   That's when the Chief saw it for himself and there was no doubt to the severity of the situation. "Dear God... How did we miss this."

***

   Commander Havershim sat at the head of the war room conference table with a look of disgust on his face. Several of the colony's top scientists sat around the table with grim looks on their faces, almost like they were his children and they were in deep trouble. After what felt like an eternity the Commander spoke, "Would one of you care to explain how exactly we missed this large of an object?", his words only helped to raise the level of tension in the room.
   "Well Sir, it seems the object is made of a dense dark material, its some form of metal which we have never seen before." The speaker was an old man in his Seventies with graying hair and horn rimmed glasses, "We believe this material isn't native to our solar system."
   "That still doesn't explain how we missed it. I thought we still had some deep space telemetry?"
   "We do Sir, its just that this object appears as nothing on our sensors, its like a hole in space to us. There was just no way to see it with our telemetry. The material absorbs most forms of radiation yet emits none of its own. We would have completely missed it if it wasn't for the radar incident."
   "Well I suppose there isn't any time to play blame games now. How long until it reaches Earth space, and will it hit EC1?"
   "We anticipate an impact in roughly two to three months, and we believe the moon will be on the opposite side of the planet when it impacts. We are working on plans to divert the meteor from its course, but all of the nuclear arms are on Earth being used in the war, besides this thing is so dense that we don't see it having much effect on it anyway."
   "So what you are telling me is there is no way to stop it?"
   "Basically Sir, that's what we are saying... Perhaps if we were able to use the combined armaments of all the armies we could make a dent, but that is still a long shot."
   "Yes, I don't think they will give up their weapons that easily. We have been trying to contact the heads of the three armies and so far the only response is coming from the AAU. We didn't expect the EU or MATF to even listen for our signals any more." The Commander looked grim, sipped his coffee and sighed. "The AAU has started to send its troops on last ditch evac missions. They say if there is time they will start sending troops here, but not until they are sure every civilian is off planet. Even then the Angels of Mercy will remain behind in an attempt to save soldiers from the other armies."
   "Sir, do we even want those brutes here? I mean they will just bring their strife to EC1, won't they?"
   "Yes, but it has always been the policy of this station to open its arms to those who seek refuge, and we aren't about to change that policy now." The Commander turned around in his chair, coffee in hand, his feelings in utter chaos, "That will be all gentlemen. Please keep me updated on the situation. I want to know exactly how much room we have for refugees and..." His voice trailed off as if he didn't have the words to express how much this was killing him inside. "Never mind, just keep me updated. Oh, and tell the watch guard to have Ensign Takain sent in immediately."
   The scientists left the room quietly talking to each other about statistics and what not. The Commander didn't even swing his chair around to them, if he did they would see the tears rolling down his cheek. His only thought was of his daughter Annalise, a member of the Angels of Mercy. She left the colony at Eighteen to join the AAU in rescue missions. In her short time with the Angels she had risen to the rank of Major and the duties of a squad commander. These days Havershim wasn't sure if she even knew her real name anymore, now everyone knew her as Seraphim. Her small squad of only three answered directly to Michael, one of the seven leaders of the Angels known as the Archangels. He knew the two members of his daughter's squad very well, there was Muse, a twenty year old rookie and Barnabas her brother. Together the three of them had saved more lives than any other squad in the Angels. As the signal came that Ensign Takain was at his door, the Commander composed himself and walked to the back of the war room where some good old fashioned scotch was waiting. He poured a glass and quickly threw it back gritting his teeth at its bite. "Enter." was the only word he could muster at the moment.
   Myalynn entered the room walking up to the table and standing at military attention. She saluted and gave her programmed greeting, "Ensign Myalynn Takain reporting as ordered Sir."
   He cleared his throat as much as his mind, "Well Ensign, it seems that you have been unable to adjust to the colony's odd hours." Myalynn just stood at attention, she was a good officer and an intelligent girl, this would be easier if she didn't remind Havershim of his daughter so damned much. "humph... Well, I suppose we should talk about your, accident then. Ensign you are aware that we here do not tolerate sleeping at one's post, correct?"
   "Yes Sir."
   "Well then, perhaps you can enlighten me as to what exactly happened."
   "Sir, I had family issues to attend to most of the day... honestly Sir, there is no excuse."
   "Correct there isn't. Unfortunately your accident lead to something bigger and that takes priority over the unfortunate mishap. You won't go unpunished though, I think a week of sanitizing the women's dormitory latrines will help you remember to stay awake."
   "Yes Sir."
   Damn, she was a good officer. She didn't even flinch at the punishment, why did she have to be so like Annalise? "Ensign, do you feel this is too lenient of a punishment?"
   "No Sir, I have seen the women's dormitory latrines."
Havershim stifled a laugh. "Good then. Oh, one more thing. Your brother Matthew, how old is he now?"
   At this she question she was taken back. How had the Commander remembered her brother's name. She wavered a bit in her response, "Twelve Sir."
   "So next year he will begin to pick a colonial vocation and start training? Have you tried to guide him at all, give him a sense of what it means to be a colonist?"
   "Yes Sir I have, but he is still a child-" There was a pleading in her voice as if she wanted to hold on to something normal, something of the old world.
   "Nonsense, he will be of age to study and live alone next year and learn the harsh reality of what we do here. This is a place where we save lives, where the weak and tired come when no one else will take them."
   "Yes Sir, We know that all too well." The military precision was back in her voice, Havershim had done what he set out to do. To remind Myalynn that she was a Colonist now, not a Terran.
   "I suppose you do then," Havershim remembered the day Annalise brought these two up to the colony, it was one of the last times he saw his daughter, "As you were Ensign. Your sanitation duties will begin tomorrow. For now just go and take care of young Matthew."
   "Yes Sir."
   With a wave of his hand he dismissed the Ensign and looked back to his bottle of scotch, "To hell with the glass..." Havershim mumbled as he picked up the bottle and sat back into his chair thinking of all his children on this colony... they were all his, his responsibility alone.

***

   It was Twenty-Three Hundred hours in London as Seraphim sat on the roof of the bombed out Buckingham Palace; Muse and Barnabas were late as usual. She enjoyed the time to herself that their lateness gave her. She knew if they were more than five minutes late she could worry, but only a minute off was normal. Seraphim pulled out an energy bar and began to tap at her watch. It was nearing the deadline for her to worry and she was contemplating breaking the radio silence Michael had ordered, even if there was hell to pay. From God's mouth to Michael's ear, that was how the operation worked. She had to trust that God and Michael along with the other Archangels knew what to do, hell if they didn't know then no one did. Seraphim fidgeted with her energy shield and was now officially worried. Muse and Barnabas never took this long. She sat up with a start as she heard glass crunch under a boot, wheeling around she didn't like what she saw.
"So, you are the angel they call Seraphim. We've been looking for you for quite some time." His accent was definitely Persian and she knew the face. She was crouched with her weapon trained on the man known amongst the Angels as Manticore, Abdul-Haqq Kanaan. Seraphim thought second and shot first. The bullets passed through the figure causing a slight digital glitch.
   "Ow, you got me cowgirl." The image of Manticore looked at her laughing.
   "Down now Seraph! Tronics off!" Seraphim knew that voice all too well, it was Muse and just in the nick of time. Muse tossed a pinch grenade out towards the floating holographic projector encased by the image of Manticore. The grenade sputtered with a few sparks emitting a high yield, short range electromagnetic burst; the image disappeared mid laugh. Seraphim knew this wasn't the time to celebrate tho, as a squad of MATF unmanned drones began a strafing run on the roof. Seraphim used every ounce of energy to run to Muse, but the drones had done their job. As Seraphim reached out toward Muse one of the drones got lucky and landed a direct hit to the heart, it was over quickly for the young soldier. Muse collapsed forward into her commander's arms. Seraphim was in shock, she never even knew her real name.

(to be continued...)

Happy St. Patrick's Day Humanity!

2010-03-17T17:11:00.000-04:00

Just a quick pop in to wish everyone a safe and happy holiday. Do what you do responsibly, and live to write another day. Now, where did I put my green beer...

Stay tuned for Part One of Splintered Humanity: The Hand of God and Parts three and four of Splintered Humanity: Superiority Complex all coming the second half of this week!

A New Week Begins

2010-03-16T12:23:00.000-04:00

Hey Humanity, Sebron here with some news. Splintered Humanity can now be reached through SplinteredHumanityOnline.com and will soon be moving to a much easier to understand forum format. I hope this raises the level of community participation. Also we will be bringing you a short story from Block One, "The Hand of God." This story tells the tale of the months leading up to the impact of the Hand of God meteor and how we all cope with loss. I warn you this isn't a happy story, but it is action and drama packed. Stay tuned Humanity, its going to be a bumpy ride.

Also just a reminder the submission period for Block One remains open and I can't wait to see what you create for our wonderful world. If a character stands out to you, draw your impression of them, if a particular event in the time line strikes your fancy, write about it. You don't have to go the Forty chapter epic route, just a short story or poem will do. Also we are still looking for the winning artist in our logo contest. So, get creative and submit your work. We will work closely with our Community Developers to establish a Creative Commons copyright that suits your needs.

SPS and more!

2010-03-13T13:03:00.001-05:00

Hey Humanity! Here at Splintered Humanity Productions are going full steam on both reorganizing the site structure, creating developer video podcasts, and creating great stories for you to get a feel of the world you are building. This week we bring you chapter two of Mombo's epic tale of Sir Lucas. For those that missed chapter one, there's the link! This story is going to pick up in next week's SPS with a double feature of chapters three and four. Also we have our first story from Block One coming this week, a sad tale named, "Hand of God." Remember all works here are written under a creative commons license. We will be working hard to help authors who submit works pick the right type of license for their needs. I can only hope that you are inspired to create and of course to tell your friends to stop by and see if they want to participate.

So, without further ado, I bring you this week's SPS!!!

Splintered Humanity

Superiority Complex

Part 2

By Jeremy Mombourquette

“I thought Reichstag spoke with an old Ukrainian accent, not Scottish?” Akira questioned the mysterious Reichstag officer who appeared at the club, his club, when he was chilling out in the VIP section.

The officer was quiet for a moment, very quiet, eerily quiet. Then he spoke up.

“What can I say, we’re full of surprises.” The officer laughed at his own little joke then continued, “Anyways, to the point at hand. We would like to hire you for the job. We are also offering you a decent payment for your employment.”

“What kind of job is it?” Akira asked. He motioned to the two ladies sitting next to him to leave, and they headed off hand-in-hand towards the club’s dance floor.

“Thirty-five million credits...”

Akira interrupted the officer as he laughed. He laughed hard.

“You cannot be serious? Thirty-five, I work for twice of that.”

“That’s the down payment.” The officer paused for effect. “We’re offering fifty million upon completion, and then whatever upgrades your suit requires beforehand.” The officer motioned for a waitress.

“Any upgrade?” Akira was now interested.

“Any upgrade.”

The waitress stepped over and the officer whispered something into her ear, then placed a credit chip on her tray. She hurried off towards the bar. Akira continued to sit motionless, one arm was resting on the top of the couch, his gaze looking up and down the Reichstag officer who was sitting in front of him. One could see the gears turning in Akira’s head. This was definitely an opportunity he could not miss, but it was also one which, even he could realize, was high risk. He liked high risk.

“I want two Vibro-Blades. You guys still make them, right?”

The officer choked.

“Vibro-Blades?” The officer’s voice suddenly hit a snag.

“Yeah. Vibro-Blades.”

“We, we, we can do that.” The officer paused, “Fine. Fine. Are you sure you want something like that?”

“Yeah, my suit is built for speed. The plasma beams I’m using slow me down too much, I’ll be even faster with a pair of V-Blades. That’s a Wraith Class for you.” Akira laughed. The two bodyguards standing behind the officer began to laugh as well.

The waitress brought the drink over; this one came a bit quicker than the ones Akira purchased. The officer nodded to the waitress, and he stood up. He held the drink in his left hand, and held out his right.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Akira didn’t even stand up, but he leaned over and grasped the officer’s hand.

“We have a deal.”

The officer raised his glass and drank it in one gulp.

“To new alliances.”

“To new alliances.” Akira replied.

***

Squire Turner stood at a computer screen punching numbers. The Paladin X-23 class suit lay to his side, the two story robot looking like the gigantic corpse of a long forgotten entity. There was a cup of coffee, imported Angeleous 1 coffee, sitting by the keyboard. Every so often the squire would take a sip. It was now long stale, and long cold. He was sipping it out of habit rather than need at this point. The lights in the drop ship’s hanger were out, save for the few lighting up the work area. He was working late, but he would have felt better if he could get the calculations to work right. This problem was starting to really piss him off.

He turned to the suit, and shook his head.

“You just don’t want to do this, do you?” It seemed like he was expecting some sort of reply.

He walked closer to it, and continued to shake his head.

“Seriously, I’m trying to fix one simple thing, and you want to be a problem child.” He mocked kicked the suit’s arm, “God help me, if I could. Pow! Bam! Right in the kisser!”

“Do you often speak to my equipment?”

Squire Turner jumped at least three feet into the air and screamed bloody murder. He grasped his heart, his adrenaline pumping. For someone who was in training to become a future pilot, he was so easily surprised.

“Don’t do that!” Squire Turner yelled, “You know how I am.”

“Yeah, yeah, save it. Did you figure it out?” Sir Lucas asked as he grabbed a stool sitting nearby and leaned down on it.

“Not really, but I think I’ve figured it out. Or, at least I hope I’ve figured it out. I have a theory that might have figured it out.” Turner said with a quick and confused tone. He scratched his scraggily hair, the goggles resting on top of his head nearly fell off.

Sir Lucas turned his head a bit, almost puppy-like. He liked getting Squire Turner in these moods, these questionable confusing moods. It would help him prepare for anything. Expect the unexpected, that’s something they don’t teach you at the academy. Sir Lucas couldn’t stand his academy training. Every valuable lesson he learned, he learned from experience, and from his much wiser superior whom he was a squire for.

“Just tell me what you know now.” Sir Lucas’ tone was calm, a voice of reason.

If only Sir Lucas could feel this calm when he dealt with those of equal rank. This was the sole time he didn’t feel either superior, or inferior to anyone. He liked having a purpose, he liked sitting in a hanger next to his suit fiddling with whatever weapons system, computer system, or motorization system that needed to be tweaked, or repaired, or upgraded. This was a very Zen-like experience for him. This was the only time where he actually felt happy.

“Well, the problem is your energy output. It’s running at about 4.2 million BTU’s, and I ideally think it would run better at 3.1 or, if God was gracious enough to do this, 2.9 million. I really think the problem is the shoulder weapons systems, and if we switch it to, say, a gattling gun rather than the rail gun we’re using, it would lower the energy requirements considerably.” Turner paused, “Keep in mind this is just a theory. Just a theory. I mentioned I’m still doing the calculations, right?”

“But, what about weapon effectiveness?” Sir Lucas questioned.

“Weapon effectiveness? Oh, yeah! The thing of it is this, how long has it been taking you to target?” Turner walked over to the computer screen and punched in a few more numbers.

“Maybe about five seconds tops, depends on the target.”

“That’s too long. If you ever run into something quick, something which has some sort of cloaking technology, then that five second targeting time reduces your overall effectiveness in half.”

“By half?”

“Or a third, something like that. You see if we run with the gattling gun, it will lower the energy output thus freeing up energy which can go towards other necessary equipment.”

“Like my targeting computer?”

“Exactly. Besides that, it’ll lower the time it takes to charge up your force field, or if you need to use it, your Consecration EMP.”

“So why aren’t you upgrading it now?” Sir Lucas had a sly smile on his face.

“I don’t know.” Turner paused and then realized what Sir Lucas had said, “Oh, yeah, well then…” his voice trailed off as he continued to punch numbers into the computer.

“Goodnight Turner. We drop in the early afternoon, I’d get some sleep if I were you.”

Sir Lucas stood up, gave a halfhearted salute and headed to his bunk. Turner knew he was right; it was late. The fact that they had to drop in the early afternoon didn’t help matters at all. If they were to get the guns on, the weapon systems initialized, calibrated, the weapon targeting computer upgraded and calibrated, and everything else ready to go, he was going to have to work throughout the night. He didn’t like this prospect, but he was going to need to do it.

All this for a diplomatic mission….

***

The diplomatic contingent waited. The four-man crew sat in their ceremonial suits in the middle of the Brazilian Desert, that’s what the Tribe of Four Winds thrived on- ceremony. Ceremony brought the people together, and ceremony taught the people all of the skills and knowledges they needed to succeed. They would teach the diplomatic envoy from the Church of Saint George in the same way, and it would be their test to see if they were worthy enough to be an ally. In desperate times like these, every failsafe mattered.

“So, how long until he drops?” Caine asked.

Caine was piloting a large Ibex structured suit. There were two of them actually. Both of them flanked a large buffalo shaped suit, with a turtle one taking up the rear. None of these suits possessed any sort of defense weaponry whatsoever, but all were for ceremonies such as this. A small Tribe outpost lay to the west, and in a vast desert such as the great desert of old South America, there wasn’t much worry of an assault from an enemy. If there was, Fang Company would come to their defense in minutes.

“He should be here soon.” Cadence said, she sat in the other Ibex.

“Why’d we come here so soon again?” Caine asked again.

“You know by tradition, we need to welcome the guest.” Chief Greyweather stated; he piloted the buffalo.

“Ok, yeah, tradition. It’s boring though.” Caine felt the need to just not shut up.

“Well, that must mean you’re boring.” Chief Greyweather laughed.

The four man contingent laughed heartily. In days like these there wasn’t much to laugh about, so the rare times it happened was a blessing. The Tribe’s members continued to sit and to wait. The desert was barren. The wind blew small clumps of sand around. Small lizards darted underneath the ground to escape the intense heat of the mid-day sun. The sun suddenly reflected off of what seemed like, at first, metal.

“You guys see that?” Caine asked.

“See what?” Cadence replied.

“I got a quick blip on my radar. The Knight envoy here?”

“I’m not seeing any signs, and he hasn’t hailed us yet.” Cadence replied, she continued, “Are you sure you’re not just trying to be less boring?”

“No, I swear there was something there.”

Like lightning an explosion was heard. The turtle suit in the back, the one piloted by a quiet rookie named Sampson fell to its side. A large gash in its right leg split the knee joint from the body. It fell to the ground with a crash that the pilots could hear in their cockpits. Sand and grit flew into the air.

“What the Hell was that?” Cadence replied.

“I don’t know I didn’t see anything on the radar.” Chief Greyweather yelled.

“I can’t contact Fang Company. My communication is jammed.” Caine’s voice was frantic. Fear instantaneously gripped the three.

Another explosion. The left side of the turtle suit blew from what looked like the inside. A number of small mini explosions rocketed along the line of the suit’s shell. The fire was intense; it flared with a bright blue light. The metal of the suit itself began to melt. The napalm like metallic dripping heated the sand around the suit, forming a sheen of pure glass. Then, one final explosion.

“SAMPSON!” Chief Greyweather yelled as the remaining three pilots began to run their suits out of the way of danger.

“I’m not reading any life signs?” Cadence sobbed.

“He didn’t port out?” Caine’s suit was falling behind, “What the fuck is happening? I’m losing speed.”

Caine tried everything he could, but the suit slowed to a crawl, and eventually to a stop. He pressed every button, flipped every switch. He repeated the processes again, and again and again. Then silence.

Cadence and Chief Greyweather couldn’t see what happened until it was too late. By the time they realized Caine’s suit stopped and ceased communications, it was a smoldering piece of metal. Like Sampson’s suit, he was unable to port out. Something was picking off each of them. Something was preventing the ability to port out. Something unseen was out there.

“How far are we away from Station 72?” Cadence asked.

“About ten minutes. I don’t think we can make it.” Chief Greyweather’s voice was faltering. For the first time ever, Cadence could hear a twinge of fear in his voice.

Another explosion. This time, it was Chief Greyweather’s suit. The first explosion came from a gash in the gut of the suit. The next came from the back left hind leg. Sparks and oil and smoke gushed through the damage. A third explosion, and this time it was from the back of the suit. Finally, the entire suit exploded in a thunderous boom.

There was a sight of the culprit, or at least to Cadence’s eyes there was, if briefly.

A black suit stood there for a mere second, a very minute second. It was slim, much more slim than most of the suits that the other factions used. It almost seemed as if it lacked armor and was using the base skeleton. Cadence thought; her memory was of the suit’s head. The image was burned into the final moments of her life. It was eerily fox-like, and it didn’t really mesh with the rest of the suit. In what would have been “eyes” there were two large red optical sensors. The entire suit looked very demon-like as the burning wreckage of Chief Greyweather’s suit lay in the background, the fire illuminating parts of the deadly suit with chilling effect.

“If anyone can hear me, this is Cadence Flowingcloud, escort to diplomatic envoy Chief Greyweather. We have been attacked….”

Cadence went silent. Her body burned alive in the explosion that rocked the cockpit.

In the distance a strange figure stood alone watching the carnage unfold. He was wearing a simple uniform, black pants and grey shirt. He rubbed his chin a bit, and flakes of artificial skin falling off to reveal the hidden metal underneath. His eyes switched from artificial humanoid to a glowing bright emerald green. He smiled.

As he walked away from the carnage, his foot stepped over a buried uniform, a buried new uniform. It was one that was originally too new to begin with.

To be continued…

Quickie update about site structure.

2010-03-10T23:28:00.000-05:00

Hey Humanity.. With Splintered Humanity Productions moving forward like wildfire I've been doing some reorganizing of the site structure. How does this effect you? Well if you are used to visiting us through SplinteredHumanity.com you will end up at our Production main page, if you visit us through sebron.blogspot.com you won't notice any difference. You will soon need to visit us through SplinteredHumanityOnline.com which will help organize everything for everyone. For those who decide we're awesome enough to stick around through the transition I thank you and I hope this will help to keep all the various projects going. Also towards next month you will see Splintered Humanity Universe move towards a forum format while we work on some amazing alpha stuff for an unbelievable user experience. Working within a bulletin board format will help to keep information organized Well that's all for now. Stay tuned Humanity (and tell your friends!!!)

- Sebron

Mid-week update

2010-03-10T18:24:00.001-05:00

Hey Humanity,

We've been crazy busy here at Splintered Humanity Productions, mostly with learning new video editing software so I can start producing Dev Vlog videos. Also, I am working on a side project that has nothing to do with Splintered Humanity Universe. Anyway.. beyond learning new software, I've been working on some ideas for systems for the MMORPG. One of the bigger ideas I've been trying to develop has to do with PvP and the capture mechanic leading to the fight for Earth. I'm debating if this week's Sneak Peak Saturday should include the basic premise for this mechanic as well as the next chapter in Mombo's epic, or if I should just post all about the mechanic and forget Mombo's epic tale. JUST KIDDING! That story has been a fan favorite, and he should be applauded for his amazing work. Hopefully I can find a free moment to put more work into the Hand of God story. Lastly today, I wanted to thank you guys who have added me on buzz, twitter, and/or Facebook. Follow the links on the right to find me or our community on facebook and sign up for up to the second updates on all things Splintered Humanity. Thanks for stopping in, and don't forget to ask questions if you don't understand any of this.

- Sebron

Another Week Passes...

2010-03-08T20:58:00.001-05:00

Hey Humanity,

We head another week into the future and the weight of many projects bears down upon your's truly. I really need to get some stuff up for Block 1, but I want to take the time and ask you guys if there is anything you don't understand about Splintered Humanity, the current block, or how to submit. Also I wanted to make sure you all know how to digg, retweet, etc.. the link to our little corner of the internet. Without a community this is going to be a very small universe and the opposite of what we want. Now we've given you block 1 to see the major events from 2030-2150. Take those specific factual events and fill them with emotion, perspective. Imagine being a kid growing up when the missiles begin to fly in WW3, or a refugee on EC1 watching the impact of the Hand of God. This is your task, to fill in those empty events with the spark of life and a rich tapestry of characters.

On other notes, Sneak Peak Saturday was a hit, and will be a weekly thing! Each Saturday we will delve into the world of the future where the races of man scattered throughout the galaxy fight to preserve their resources and their way of life. From the saintly Church of St. George, to the ultra-capitalistic Reichstag, to the mighty grace of the Tribe of the Four Winds, the intellect and secrecy of the Illumaniti, and the manipulative minds of the Humanists we will bring you a future like no other. Filled with power struggles, war, love, and.. well whatever YOU imagine.

Stay tuned Humanity, its going to be fun!

- Sebron

Sneak Peek Saturday!

2010-03-06T16:13:00.003-05:00

Hey Humanity, Its Saturday and that means a sneak into the future universe that Splintered Humanity offers. This story takes place roughly five years before the intended launch of the MMORPG.

Splintered Humanity:

Superiority Complex

part 1

Jeremy Mombourquette

The boots echoed in the hallway.

The clean hallway.

The boots echoed in the utterly, perfectly, clean hallway.

The sound of footsteps reverberated down the corridors lined in bright silver steel, and walls painted pure virginal white. He was alone to his thoughts, the man who was the source of the echo. He walked with a purpose, and walked with his head held high. His uniform was spotless, crests and awards on his chest, his sword of rank held in its scabbard to his side. As he walked, his gaze fell upon each mosaic as it appeared, one after the other. Each painting told the story of the Church. Each told of the origin, the destiny, and the death of those who served the Church of Saint George; this was who Sir Lucas of Gawain served. He served the church with a violent fervor, because that’s what his father would have wanted him to do.

Two monks appeared walking in the opposite direction that Sir Lucas was taking. The monks are draped in drab and coarse brown robes, their heads are held low in prayer. Quiet chanting could be heard, prayers from days long ago. Neither of them looked up to address the knight, but Sir Lucas gave them a curt nod. The rules of rank didn’t prohibit the lack of address for either, the monks or the knight, each were of the same rank within the church. Sir Lucas focused on the war that was waged on the battlefields. The monks on the other hand, the monks waged their war for the control of the souls of the faithful, and non-faithful alike. Their footsteps are silent, and as Sir Lucas passes them, their memory fades from his consciousness as quickly as it appeared.

Sir Lucas could see the door ahead of him, the office of his Highness Lord Protector Albert of Gallahad. Sir Lucas was summoned three days prior from his space colony thirteen parsecs away from Angelous 1, the main colony for the Church of Saint George. To be summoned by the Lord Protector himself is a great honor, and there was no information which was available for why he was being summoned. Rumors had been circulating amongst the serfs and squires of support being needed on Earth. It was also rumored that the missions that were being built to help recolonize parts of the planet, parts long forgotten, had been under siege from Reichstag. Sir Lucas didn’t like to live amongst rumors though, because his purpose was to serve his superiors and his God. Those who didn’t allow him to do either were free to be crushed under the foot of righteousness.

He could see the door to the Lord Protector’s office a few hundred feet away. A network of corridors branched out before it, the office door stood there perfectly silent, sentient even. If one were allowed the opportunity, given that it was held in strict secrecy, one could see that the headquarters for the Church was built in the shape of a large cross, an archaic religious symbol that was held in nostalgia more than anything else. More monks walked between the hallways, and one or two serfs darted between offices held in the corridors. Each person Sir Lucas now encountered acknowledged his presence, almost as if they expected to see him. In respect, he also acknowledged these mysterious underlings, but thought nothing of it. He had more pressing matters on his hands.

As he stepped before the Lord Protector’s office, he couldn’t help but notice the intricate work done on the doorframe. The frame was inlaid in gold flakes, with carvings of the entire history of the Church all along the edge. It was beautiful in scope, but pointless in execution. Then again, Sir Lucas thought, even if there were pressing matters such as the lack of available resources and attacks from Reichstag, the Lord Protector at the very least should be allowed a nice doorframe. His duty was to his God, and God made Albert Lord Protector, Sir Lucas had to honor that. If he didn’t, he didn’t honor his God, and that was blasphemy.

There was a scanner on the side of the door, and Sir Lucas placed his hand on top of it. He could feel the warmth of the scanner’s light as it activated and scanned over each nook and cranny of his palm, every swirl of his fingerprint, every scar or callous he ever received while on the field of combat. As suddenly as it grew warm, it just as suddenly grew cold. There was a quick silence as the computer analyzed the data, and the door opened with a slight buzz. The two panels that made up the door itself separated and opened, the smell of incense seeped through the open entrance. A door that opened in this fashion allowed for much more security than one without, much like the doors which led to the offices of many of the squires. Anyone could theoretically walk into the offices they controlled, mainly because there was nothing of extreme confidential purposes held inside. They were mainly offices which dealt in low level record keeping and ordering, nothing too important. As Sir Lucas walked into the Lord Protector’s office, stepping over the threshold, the computer announced his presence.

“Announcing Sir Lucas of Gawain, knight of the third degree, pilot of a Paladin X-23 class suit. Son of Sir Marcus of Gawain, His Excellency Justicar of Colony 21, pilot of a Cleric Y-17 class suit.”

A mousy looking squire sat behind a desk as Sir Lucas entered. The squire immediately rose to his feet and saluted.

“Sir Lucas, welcome sir.” The squire yelped.

Sir Lucas looked about the room, and it wasn’t exactly what he expected of the Lord Protector’s office. Books lined all of the walls, there were hundreds of them. Even the wall with a window looking out to the front courtyard was lined in books. Books were exceptionally obsolete, but they were also very rare, and very expensive. Sir Lucas was amazed. Walking to the closest wall he scanned the titles. Shakespeare. Thoreau. Shelley. Walt Whitman. Charles Dickens. Tolstoy. Classics. Another shelf had works on ancient knowledges and histories, everything pre-Hand of God. Archaic history. Ancient history.

“Sir, the Lord Protector is waiting to see you.” The mousy squire said quietly, “You can walk in whenever you are ready.” His voice sounded unsure, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should be saying anything at all.

“Thank you.” Sir Lucas finally voiced as he turned around towards the squire, “You may sit down.”

“Thank you sir. Thank you!” The squire immediately sat down and quickly began to return to whatever he was working on when Sir Lucas walked in.

The door that led to the Lord Protector’s office didn’t have a scanner like the office proper, but instead opened as soon as Sir Lucas stepped towards it. He had an appointment, and it was already programmed to prepare for his DNA and scanner signature as soon as he stepped near it during the designated time. As the door opened, he couldn’t help but notice that even more books lined the Lord Protectors “hidden sanctum”. Sir Lucas was officially, and undeniably, impressed.

There was a venerable old man sitting behind the desk looking down at, again, another book. Walking into the office itself, Sir Lucas quietly stood in front of the desk awaiting the Lord Protector’s acknowledgement of his presence. In the meantime, he gazed around the room. There were few, if any, maps or charts, or computer screens which read the latest information on recent goings on. Even the communication terminal which led to the King’s office, one of the only two direct lines to the King, was placed aside and out of the way, mixed with various books which had something to do with eastern philosophy and meditation. Sir Lucas was puzzled by this, but he was not expected to question, only act. He continued to wait.

“Hence the general who is skilful in attack whose opponent does not know what to defend; and he is skilful in defense whose opponent does not know what to attack.” The Lord Protector finally spoke up.

Sir Lucas walked up to the Lord Protector and kissed him on the ring, the necessary greeting for meeting someone such high ranking. Sir Lucas also gave a courteous bow and waited until he was granted the time to speak.

“That quote was from a man named Sun Tzu, one of histories, Earth’s history namely, military minds. We could take much from him, could we not?”

“Yes sir.” Sir Lucas finally replied with a nod.

“He was a great man, a great, great man.” The Lord Protector quipped; Sir Lucas was beginning to wonder if the Lord Protector was starting to go senile. “You see, warfare is not about who wins, and who loses, it’s about the outcome it has on history. The Hand of God meteor for instance, did it really matter what happened before that? Who won what wars, who initiated peace treaties, or who was the most powerful person on the planet?”

“No sir.”

“No, it didn’t. What mattered is what occurred after. History is made up of such follies. One simple wrench in the overall plans reduces man’s achievements to nil. Your father was not that type of man, was he son?” the Lord Protector stated as he walked around his desk and sat on the edge.

“I wouldn’t know my lord, I barely remember him.” Sir Lucas’ tone was scripted, rehearsed, far from organic.

“Your father was a great man. I served with him in the peacekeeping missions along the Rhime Rim. It was tough, but your father served with a just and righteous hand. May the lord bless him.”

“May the Lord bless him.” Sir Lucas repeated the prayer.

“It was such a shame he left us. He could have gone very far, very far indeed in the Church.” The Lord Protector’s voice was shallow, soulless, when he made this particular comment.

The words immediately angered Sir Lucas, but he said nothing. The anger just seethed underneath the surface like molten lava slowly boiling beneath the ocean. Years ago, before Sir Lucas was barely ten, the patriarch Sir Marcus was killed. Details were sketchy, but it was said that he was on a mission in the Rim with the Lord Protector, years before his promotion. Sir Lucas knew that his father and the Lord Protector trained and grew up together, but not much else beyond that. The Lord Protector on that day was the lone witness to what occurred, the lone survivor in other words. He revealed to his then superiors that the two of them, he and Sir Marcus, were alone on a mission fishing out insurgents in a small colony along the northwestern side of the Rim. As they entered a warehouse they were ambushed by a group of five insurgents. They fought their hearts out, downing a few of them as they attacked, but Sir Marcus was not so lucky. As he was fighting an insurgent, Sir Marcus died as one came from behind and slit his throat. The Lord Protector was the only one who walked out alive, somehow he managed to kill the rest of the insurgents himself.

The one thought Sir Lucas couldn’t shake though, why would his father and the Lord Protector fish out a group of insurgents alone? Why would they do this when their ranks at the time allowed them the chance to stay on base and have lower ranking knights do it? And why were they alone, and where was the cadre of knights that they should have had supporting them? Sir Lucas always had questions, but he was never allowed the opportunity to voice them. Whenever he did, the answers were never to his liking. But, the sad part of it all was that he had to accept these tenants as the truth. It was God’s will.

“I have a mission for you son.” The Lord Protector quietly stated as he stood up, Sir Lucas didn’t hear the previous statements due to his wandering mind lost in angered thoughts.

“Yes sir.” Sir Lucas finally came to in time to prevent the Lord Protector’s wrath for insubordination.

“We have a diplomatic mission on Earth. As you know, after the Hand of God, the world went into ruins. The populace which survived went into chaos, all forms of government fell, resources dried up, and those who survived perished. Well, life has a habit of renewing itself, and the environment is finally stable enough for recolinization to take place. We would like you too meet up with members of the Tribe of Four Winds. If our missions are to succeed, we will need the support of their people. We want you to garner their support, and their trust. We need them as our allies before Reichstag gets to them.”

“But sir, may I speak freely?” Sir Lucas finally had the courage to do this, to speak up.

“You may.”

“I do not have the skills of diplomacy that your clerics have. Wouldn’t they be more primed to this task?”

“You are not aware of the capabilities of the Four Winds are you?”

“No sir.” Sir Lucas said curtly.

“The Four Winds are a barbaric people, a proud people. Though they are infidels, they will require someone of strength to lead them to righteousness. But, we need their help and support. If we can win them over with strength, then we will win them overall. To convert them takes time, but we can do it. Understood?” the Lord Protector spoke as if God were speaking from within him. “But, our first priority is their alliance of course.”

“I will do my best sir.” Sir Lucas said in a bow.

“I bet you will my son, I bet you will.” The Lord Protector paused, then continued, “You will be leaving by drop ship in three days. Have you suit, and your squire ready in the meantime.”

“Yes my lord.”

“May the lord be with you.” The Lord Protector stated as he grasped Sir Lucas’ shoulder.

“And with you my lord.” Sir Lucas grasped the Lord Protector’s shoulder.

***

The music in the club throbbed. The lights flashed.

Bodies rubbed and grinded amongst body. The music pumped through the floor through speakers built within the tiles. Each panel bounced first from the music, then from the dancers. The crowd was packed on this night, and there was barely enough room to move to the bar. The waitresses whirled around the patrons wearing little but a bra and tight shorts, their hair kept up in multi-colored ponytails, or just in plain Mohawks, some had no hair at all. They were professionals in this business; you had to be these days.

One in particular grabbed two drinks from the equally lack in dress bartender. They were strong drinks, you could tell from the neon color, not many strong drinks around CPU-17 involved non-neon coloration. The bartender nodded to the waitress, and the waitress handed him a credit chip, this was the payment for the drinks. The credits far exceeded the price, but the VIP the waitress was serving was known for this. He tipped well, and that meant he got the very best when he came with his entourage.

The waitress grabbed the drinks and placed them on the tray she held and hurried back into the crowd. The VIP may have been a good tipper, but he was a very particular customer, he wanted the drinks quickly. She weaved in between dancers, couples making out on the dance floor, wannabes hitting on women they have no chance with, and drug dealers doing their thing incognito. As she made her way to the VIP lounge, she could see her target sitting down with two women who were wearing what seemed like poorly fitting lingerie on each side of him.

“I have your drinks sir.” She said with a flirtatious tone.

“Thanks.” The VIP snapped as he grabbed them, “It took you long enough.”

“It’s busy.”

“It took too long.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“You better.”

The VIP handed the two drinks to the girls and kissed each one on the lips, his tongue making its way into each of their mouths. He sat back looking to his two bodyguards as they stood next to the couch, there was no way in Hell anyone was getting close to him. He was having a good time, and when he got back to his place he was going to be having an even better time.

“Mr. Akira Tokugawa.” A voice said as in the shadows, and form came forward closer to the couch.

One of the bodyguards moved forward, his sheer size dwarfed the much shorter shadow who stood at about five foot eleven. The other bodyguard moved to the others side. Each was ready for anything, and they were both ready to die for their patron.

“I have a business proposition for you.” The shadow stated coyly.

Akira paused.

“Let him in.” Akira motioned to the two bodyguards. He didn’t have to state it twice, each bodyguard moved back to his original placement.

The shadow moved into the light, and Akira could finally see that he was wearing a crisp new uniform, too new for his liking, but new nevertheless. It was a Reichstag officer, and a very well decorated one too. He was instantaneously interested in what this supposed “deal” entailed now.

“They call me Neo.” Akira spoke in a cocky tone, his legs crossing as he lounged back, his feet resting on the table in front of him. The two girls laughed.

“Taking a name from a twentieth century piece of pop-culture, cute.” The officer stated as he sat on the table, moving Akira’s legs out of the way.

“Take it, or leave it.” Akira stated angrily as he sat up a bit. His gaze was on the officer, and the weapon he had hidden under his coat.

“I hear you’re the best hired gun around.”

To be continued….

Update!

2010-03-04T09:51:00.000-05:00

Hi Humanity, just a quick update this morning. I'm putting together some great stuff for the AAU discussion points. Also, By this weekend we should have a polished version of our peek into the future of the Splintered Humanity universe! Earth is recovering from the Hand of God and rumors of talks on how to recolonize are spreading through the galaxy fast. I have honestly read this story about five times in the last day and a half, its that good. Exciting times are here at SH and I'm so glad we get to share it with you.

Don't forget that we are still going ahead with the logo contest and submission period for Block One. Also don't forget to check some of the links in our sidebar. Have a great and creative day Humanity.

- Sebron

Monday, Monday...

2010-03-02T20:55:00.001-05:00

Hey Humanity! Its Monday and I'm here to let you know a little about what we are going to focus on for the week's talking points. This week we will delve into the world of the Asian/American Union. How it formed from 2010 to 2030 and why as a designer I paired up this odd couple of the world. Also in the pipeline is a sneak peak at the world that the SH MMORPG will take place in! Just a reminder, send story submissions based on Block One: Empty Universe and submissions to the logo contest to this address! Of course these are things you would already know about if you were a member of our Facebook Community. Stay tuned Humanity, more to come over the week!

Block One: Empty Universe

2010-02-28T11:52:00.001-05:00

Ok Humanity, its the day where we release Block One for you to start creating. So without any ado, here it is! Happy Writing!

* All times and dates are marked by the Terran calender using UTC +/-0 as a base for date regardless of time of day or relative date of the incident on the planet(s) where events happened. Also dates are listed using the European standard of dd/mm/yyyy.

2030 - 2106 - (Official opening of EC1 03/12/2030) A Lunar colony,“Earth Colony 1” is established accommodating research teams from every country working together on many varied projects. Over time it becomes a beacon of learning for the planet where the brightest scientific minds work to unlock the secrets of the universe. For the time technology and trade between nations flourish. During this time trade unions are built to their height. The European Union (EU) leads the way for the American/Asian Union (AAU) and the Muslim/Arabic Trade Federation (MATF). The only thing separating most peoples of the earth are philosophy and ideology.

2107 - As ideologies clash amongst the trade unions and tempers flare on Earth, EC1 declares its independence from the trade unions and people of Earth. A joint task force from the AAU and the EU launch an assault of EC1 condemning their neutrality and willingness to accept "Any who want to live as one away from the world, as evolved humans" as a slight towards all humanity. In what was known as, "The Great Abeyance," the scientist/citizens of EC1 displayed the hidden defensive capabilities of the colony on 23/05/2107. The defensive systems of EC1 cause an entire shutdown of all fighters being launched toward EC1. Later this same year, due to the failure of the task force to recover the station, the first missiles begin to fly and ground troops are assembled by MATF in an all out attack of EU and AAU countries on 13/08/2107. The EU recovers quickly enough to begin to move troops into MATF lands and dubs the war "The Third Great Crusades." Only two months later on 11/10/2107 the AAU, hit hard and feeling the hubris of their attack on EC1, joins the war which is known as "World War Three" on their media networks. The AAU's part in the war was almost entirely humanitarian, as they fought only defensive battles while trying to evacuate as many refugees to EC1. There was almost no place left on earth that wasn't considered a war zone by mid 2108 as all three sides fought each other.

23/04/2110 - The "Hand of God” meteor impacts 100 miles south of Cyprus in the Eastern Mediterranean Sea decimating Southern Turkey, Syria, Israel, and northern Egypt ending what historians now call the “War of Ideology.” (2107 - 2110) This would have been an Extinction Level Event for the earth if not for the millions now housed on the ever expanding moon base EC1.

2110 - 2140 - The Meteor is studied and found to be made or a rare heavy metal that does not naturally occur on Earth dubbed "Divinium." This element allows for the building of two large crafts capable of space travel within our solar system without taxing Earth's natural resources. These ships dubbed the United Earth Vessel Existence and the United Earth Vessel Ptolemaeus launched on 11/06/2124 and 09/12/2124 respectively. These new ships begin to scour the Sol system for any traces of the element.

2143 - (Official opening of EC2 13/10/2143) Earth Colony 2 is erected on mars and terraforming of the red planet begins. During this process many pre-Terran humanoid artifacts are found burried in elaborate cave systems deep in the planet (17/02/2143).

2145 - "Divinium" is found to be in abundance in Sol system's astroids belt. Mining opperations based out of EC2 on Mars begin to collect the mineral resources of the astroids.

04/07/2148 - Maiden voyage of the United Earth Vessel Serendipity. Its destination is Alpha Centauri which it should reach in just over 4 years due to its new Divinium light speed drive.

09/05/2150 - Roughly halfway through the voyage to Alpha Centauri the UEV Serendipity encounters a derelict vessel many times larger than itself and containing exactly One Thousand exo-suits built for a humanoid species.

- End of Block One - "Splintered Humanity: Empty Universe -

Submit your stories, and artwork of events to us Here! And remember this marks the countdown to Block Four where in our MMORPG universe takes full shape!

Contests, Tomorrow, and You.

2010-02-27T16:18:00.000-05:00

Hey Humanity, Sebron here with the weekend's big update! I have had some really positive feedback over this first week of Splintered Humanity being public, and I figured I should sit and reply to a few people as well as lay out the structure of Splintered Humanity for everyone.

To start, I want to clarify one big thing. Yes, it is our intention to have this world develop into an amazing 3d sci-fi MMORPG set in one of the most ambitiously designed worlds ever. The final world of Splintered Humanity will be truly your's as a community. As I described in the post about blocks, we are going to be releasing the world for you to build in chunks of timeline. Not all stories will automatically be considered cannon and part of the main timeline. Although we will support stories in every single alternate universe that is created by our community of designers. Alternate universe stories, or Splinters, will start to crop up when two or more Community Designers decided to write about the same event with conflicting outcomes or major differences in the consequences of events from what we choose as cannon. Anything submitted to us here through This link during the current block's cannon submission period will go through the process of being reviewed by not only me personally but our two other Senior Developers, Mattywasepic and Mombo. Together we will take our vote and the pieces we select will be cannon and are considered main timeline, Anything submitted after this period that directly conflicts with a cannon story and does not build upon the cannon stories will automatically be considered a Splinter. Building this world is going to be no small task and that's why we need you, our Community Designers.

The MMORPG version of Splintered Humanity can only see the light of day with your help. This world will be yours and even have your names on each quest, piece of art, and item that you design. Although I will tell you that the game world does not come into play until at least block four in the series. The world of that time is slated for four playable factions and a fifth NPC faction, conquest mechanics on a galactic scale, and the most customizable avatar system to date. Details about the game will continue to be posted here on this blog once we move Splintered Humanity Community over to a proper forum and final web app state. I envy all of you being able to join us and the sense of wonder you must feel thinking about the possibilities for this game. I myself can honestly say I strongly remember the excitement I felt when this concept was first conceived almost a year and half ago. Also I am working on a version of the Splintered Humanity using the Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition Game System License so that our table top players won't be left in the cold either.

Now, on to the announcements. First I'd like to announce our fist contest! We need a logo, and if you haven't noticed the place is a little barren. Well, I guess its a good thing we wrote Splintered Humanity under the Creative Commons license because that means that you guys can help without us having to say so! Here's what we need, a logo for the main entity of Splintered Humanity. The winner of this logo will trigger the events of our next logo contest and all those after it! That's right, we will be working with the winner of this first contest to secure a CC license and giving them a free shirt! Not only this, but the winning logo will be the CC licensed artwork that all of our Splintered Humanity logos for each of our blocks will be based on. Here you have a chance to be the first in a great line of Community Designers and make this world possible as every artist to come to our site and design a logo for any part of the Splintered Humanity world will look to your work for inspiration.

Oh, if that wasn't enough, we're going to be releasing Block one: "Splintered Humanity: Empty Universe," tomorrow! That's right, you get to see the first patch of timeline for the world and begin submitting stories, art, and even pictures of mash potato sculptures on Monday! (yeah... maybe not so much mashed potato sculptures.)

Thanks for stopping by Humanity, hope you can hold it together...

- Sebron

Who Says Size Doesn't Matter?

2010-02-24T19:13:00.001-05:00

Hey humanity, Sebron here. I'm deciding on a format for this. I think I am going to do a weekly large update on status of the project and talking points for the week. Daily tho, I will be posting here the same fun stuff I post to our facebook community. I like to post videos, questions that are on my mind about sci-fi and how they relate to SH. So, I'll start with today's facebook community update:

Who Says Size Doesn't Matter?

*

Stay tuned, at the end of the week we will be posting the entire details for our Splintered Humanity: We Need a Logo! contest. Can you guess what you need to do to enter?

- Sebron

* As with all our videos posted here and on fb, credit goes to the person who made it, when and if it can be found.

Day 04

2010-02-23T20:30:00.000-05:00

Hey everyone, I just wanted to stop in with an update. I am working hard on the next good long post, but being back to work and getting up at 04:30 is taking its toll. I am in the midst of writing a great post where I'll go into the workings of community storytelling, and news of our first contest! Stay tuned and thanks for reading.

- Sebron

Doy 02

2010-02-21T19:30:00.002-05:00

unfortunately not much got accomplished today. I go back to my regular job tomorrow so I've been enjoying each drop of relaxation I can find. Things are going well on the SH front, and there will be many updates ahead. One thing I am debating is if I should start to post video updates as well as text updates. I think once I learn the editing software better I will be adding them. In the meantime I will be adding updates to the Facebook community daily and try as best I can to cross post them here. Stay tuned folks big stuff on the way.

- Sebron

Day 01.1

2010-02-20T22:32:00.000-05:00

Late day update.. I've been playing around with the timeline for block 1. Well, maybe that isn't the best way to start an update.. Here I should outline how things are going to progress here at SH.

Blocks.

Blocks are sections of the timeline that the story will be advancing through. Think of these as seasons on a television show. The current block is the one that the SH Dev Team is putting the most effort into refining at the current time. We are more than likely going to do these chronologically as best we can, but gaps may be left in the timeline or separate timelines may begin to exist. Such is the nature of science fiction.

Participation

Well, this is where it gets fun. In the coming weeks we will be opening a forum for SH where authors can begin to post their stories, art, general ideas, etc... This is going to include a lot of refining how we use the Creative Commons license to all of our advantage. As SH is covered by a share alike license that means that any works you make must be covered by a CC license as well, and we want to make obtaining that license as easy for our creator/community as we can. We here at SH believe this license is the key to making a true community experience out of this, and with the ideas for flash based apps to fuel this site coming fast and furious I can only hope we bust out of a typical forum role-playing site and into something great.

Well I hope that helps people see a little bit of where we are coming from and where we are going with this. Block 1 is in final revisions and should be released in the coming days so that you can all get a glimpse of where we are going. Also you can expect the first short story written within the SH world within the month. I am personally writing this piece entitled, "Splintered Humanity: The Hand of God." Stay tuned!

- Sebron