Mike Donoghue
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2017
- Messages
- 63
Thanks for checking out Part 2 of my critique request. The previous thread was the prologue while this is the actual opening chapter. I figured starting a new thread would better segregate the two. I can't fit chapter one into a single post, so immediately below is the first 1200 words of 2000 total, followed by the last bit a day or so later. Thank you!
********************
“Iceberg ahead!”
The classic warning cry sounded, a determined shout against the howling wind by naval aviator Clio Liani, whose chipper voice seemed at odds with the apparent impending doom. She watched as her ship continued its slow, steady swing to starboard through the icy water, seemingly toward the faraway object that was still a safe distance away. “Alright, here we go,” she said to herself, wriggling inside her heavy jacket and insulated trousers to get comfortable against the rail as she settled in for the inevitable. “We weren’t out here for nothing.”
“You think they’re going for it?” The man standing to her left said, his voice hopeful, expectant. He was Dion Mitros, reactor engineer, friend and fellow shipmate of Clio.
“They’ve got to be,” gunnery officer Ectis Dionysis answered before Clio, swiftly and surely. He was friend of them both and joined Dion’s at his right. Beyond the ship on the horizon, two colossal ice sheets so big they each appeared as land, blocked any passage, save for a narrow gap between them. Ectis tracked the path of ship intently. Where else could their lumbering vessel go?
“I’m sure it’s a better chance than the last one!” Iona Halkia muttered aloud, rolling her eyes as she shivered. Three times they had watched the distance close on such a target only for their ship to slip adeptly by. She wedged herself firmly between Clio and Ectis. She was a gunnery officer too and a friend to them all.
“WHAT?” Dion called out in reply to Iona. The wind muffled any sound.
“HOPEFULLY!” Iona shouted back.
A smile curled on Dion’s cold cheeks. His friends’ predictions were in. The odds were sounding good.
The four young sailors were outside in the freezing air standing shoulder-to-shoulder behind the protective steel windbreaker of an observation platform atop one of the highest points on the ship. Each was bundled in their standard issue extreme-cold weather gear supplied by the Navy: insulated pants and parka, gloves, boots goggles and all. From afar they would have appeared as mountain climbers on the face of a cliff; tiny white-gray dots lost aagainst the immense sloping wall of painted steel that was the ship’s topside structure, tree hundred feet above the water below.
“Come on…” Clio gritted her teeth. The speed of the turn caused the ship to tilt to the opposite side, making the horizon appear crooked. “I’m telling you, guys, if this isn’t it...!”
“We’ve only got two hours, dammit!” Dion said. “It better be!”
“Don’t jinx it!” Ectis warned.
They had endured this frigid spot for over an hour, battered endlessly by the permanent wind generated by the ship’s forward motion—had they not had their goggles on, their eyes would have frozen by now—all to witness a spectacle that only occurred at this time of year, in this region of the planet, on the this kind of ship. The higher the vantage they could reach, the better the view would be, but despite almost being at the ship’s highest reaches, they could still only barely, just barely, catch a glimpse of the bow and the shimmering ocean ahead over the tops of the ship’s gun turrets, but that sliver of a view was all they would need.
Suddenly the ship’s rate of turn started to slow and the horizon to even out. The rate of slowing quickened until the bow steadied, the horizon returned to level, and the ship’s course became true once more. Lying dead ahead was a white, glistening cone sticking out of the water like a miniature mountain peak, getting closer, growing larger. The two great ice sheets remained to port and starboard and the object directly in their path. The bow still didn’t move—a collision course! Their eyes widened.
“Come on.” Clio waited with baited breath
“Let’s go.” Ectis bounced on his toes, tightening his hold on the rail.
“Here it comes…” Dion whispered. Even Iona had a tight lipped smirk as she knew what was coming. The floating object was just ahead of the bow now. It seemed to have stopped.
All of them felt their chests press into the windbreak by an invisible force. The steel structure around them began to quiver and sparkling shards and clouds of powder shot upwards from the bow like a geyser of ice and snow in eerie silent, then, seconds later…
BA-BOOOM!!
CRRrrraack!!
Their ears were rattled by the bellow of a distant explosion followed by a chaotic scramble of splits and cracks as slabs of ice fractured, shattered, and ground against the ship’s hull and were plowed aside in its wake.
“Oh my god—YES!!” Dion cried as the demolition unfolded and millions of tons of steel war machine rumbled around him. "Muahahaha!” He laughed maniacally. “This is glorious!!”
Clio chuckled. “Two years was worth it, huh?” She rubbed her puffy jacketed shoulder affectionately against his arm.
“Words can’t even begin...” His mouth was cracked open in awe.
Their ship, the battleship Arcturus, had struck an iceberg dead on, smashed it, cracked it in two and kept on sailing, undamaged, unhindered, barely opposed.
Ectis let out a warm sigh of relief. He had experienced numerous collisions like this during their years on ‘Arc, but Dion had not. Not even once, his role on the ship as an engineer never affording him the time to be outside at the right place or time. For all of them, this day was their last on the Arcturus and Dion’s last chance to witness the spectacle. At last he had. Ectis smiled warmly, then he smirked.
“Hey, Dion,” Ectis said in a playful tone. “How about big ball over there?” He nodded in the direction of the bright, red-orange orb hovering just above the horizon. “You ever get a chance to see that?”
“Oh, you mean the sun?” Dion played along, hearing the familiar joke. “I’ve seen the sun.”
“Really? I didn’t know they had windows in the engine room.”
“We do, we also actually work, instead of playing video games all day!” Dion jabbed back.
Iona snickered at their exchange. Ectis shook his head in amusement. “I’m really happy for you, Dion. You finally get to watch a battleship destroy something.”
“More like blow up something!” Dion corrected. The iceberg was completely broken now and the two main halves and their debris were passing down each side. The water ahead between the two ice sheets was clear.
“Our tax dollars proud at work,” Iona said.
The three laughed at her quip as the debris cloud steadily drifted toward them.
“Heh, heads up,” Ectis advised.
“Best part,” said Clio.
The plume reached them and stung their faces and hissed across the steel like grains of sand caught in gust on a windswept beach. It lasted several seconds.
“Amazing,” Dion said, his eyes wide open as the ice crystals clicked and scratched against his googles.
The pulverized remains of the iceberg passed and the rumbling of the ship had long ceased, returning the Arcturus to its solid stillness.
--End of this segment--
********************
“Iceberg ahead!”
The classic warning cry sounded, a determined shout against the howling wind by naval aviator Clio Liani, whose chipper voice seemed at odds with the apparent impending doom. She watched as her ship continued its slow, steady swing to starboard through the icy water, seemingly toward the faraway object that was still a safe distance away. “Alright, here we go,” she said to herself, wriggling inside her heavy jacket and insulated trousers to get comfortable against the rail as she settled in for the inevitable. “We weren’t out here for nothing.”
“You think they’re going for it?” The man standing to her left said, his voice hopeful, expectant. He was Dion Mitros, reactor engineer, friend and fellow shipmate of Clio.
“They’ve got to be,” gunnery officer Ectis Dionysis answered before Clio, swiftly and surely. He was friend of them both and joined Dion’s at his right. Beyond the ship on the horizon, two colossal ice sheets so big they each appeared as land, blocked any passage, save for a narrow gap between them. Ectis tracked the path of ship intently. Where else could their lumbering vessel go?
“I’m sure it’s a better chance than the last one!” Iona Halkia muttered aloud, rolling her eyes as she shivered. Three times they had watched the distance close on such a target only for their ship to slip adeptly by. She wedged herself firmly between Clio and Ectis. She was a gunnery officer too and a friend to them all.
“WHAT?” Dion called out in reply to Iona. The wind muffled any sound.
“HOPEFULLY!” Iona shouted back.
A smile curled on Dion’s cold cheeks. His friends’ predictions were in. The odds were sounding good.
The four young sailors were outside in the freezing air standing shoulder-to-shoulder behind the protective steel windbreaker of an observation platform atop one of the highest points on the ship. Each was bundled in their standard issue extreme-cold weather gear supplied by the Navy: insulated pants and parka, gloves, boots goggles and all. From afar they would have appeared as mountain climbers on the face of a cliff; tiny white-gray dots lost aagainst the immense sloping wall of painted steel that was the ship’s topside structure, tree hundred feet above the water below.
“Come on…” Clio gritted her teeth. The speed of the turn caused the ship to tilt to the opposite side, making the horizon appear crooked. “I’m telling you, guys, if this isn’t it...!”
“We’ve only got two hours, dammit!” Dion said. “It better be!”
“Don’t jinx it!” Ectis warned.
They had endured this frigid spot for over an hour, battered endlessly by the permanent wind generated by the ship’s forward motion—had they not had their goggles on, their eyes would have frozen by now—all to witness a spectacle that only occurred at this time of year, in this region of the planet, on the this kind of ship. The higher the vantage they could reach, the better the view would be, but despite almost being at the ship’s highest reaches, they could still only barely, just barely, catch a glimpse of the bow and the shimmering ocean ahead over the tops of the ship’s gun turrets, but that sliver of a view was all they would need.
Suddenly the ship’s rate of turn started to slow and the horizon to even out. The rate of slowing quickened until the bow steadied, the horizon returned to level, and the ship’s course became true once more. Lying dead ahead was a white, glistening cone sticking out of the water like a miniature mountain peak, getting closer, growing larger. The two great ice sheets remained to port and starboard and the object directly in their path. The bow still didn’t move—a collision course! Their eyes widened.
“Come on.” Clio waited with baited breath
“Let’s go.” Ectis bounced on his toes, tightening his hold on the rail.
“Here it comes…” Dion whispered. Even Iona had a tight lipped smirk as she knew what was coming. The floating object was just ahead of the bow now. It seemed to have stopped.
All of them felt their chests press into the windbreak by an invisible force. The steel structure around them began to quiver and sparkling shards and clouds of powder shot upwards from the bow like a geyser of ice and snow in eerie silent, then, seconds later…
BA-BOOOM!!
CRRrrraack!!
Their ears were rattled by the bellow of a distant explosion followed by a chaotic scramble of splits and cracks as slabs of ice fractured, shattered, and ground against the ship’s hull and were plowed aside in its wake.
“Oh my god—YES!!” Dion cried as the demolition unfolded and millions of tons of steel war machine rumbled around him. "Muahahaha!” He laughed maniacally. “This is glorious!!”
Clio chuckled. “Two years was worth it, huh?” She rubbed her puffy jacketed shoulder affectionately against his arm.
“Words can’t even begin...” His mouth was cracked open in awe.
Their ship, the battleship Arcturus, had struck an iceberg dead on, smashed it, cracked it in two and kept on sailing, undamaged, unhindered, barely opposed.
Ectis let out a warm sigh of relief. He had experienced numerous collisions like this during their years on ‘Arc, but Dion had not. Not even once, his role on the ship as an engineer never affording him the time to be outside at the right place or time. For all of them, this day was their last on the Arcturus and Dion’s last chance to witness the spectacle. At last he had. Ectis smiled warmly, then he smirked.
“Hey, Dion,” Ectis said in a playful tone. “How about big ball over there?” He nodded in the direction of the bright, red-orange orb hovering just above the horizon. “You ever get a chance to see that?”
“Oh, you mean the sun?” Dion played along, hearing the familiar joke. “I’ve seen the sun.”
“Really? I didn’t know they had windows in the engine room.”
“We do, we also actually work, instead of playing video games all day!” Dion jabbed back.
Iona snickered at their exchange. Ectis shook his head in amusement. “I’m really happy for you, Dion. You finally get to watch a battleship destroy something.”
“More like blow up something!” Dion corrected. The iceberg was completely broken now and the two main halves and their debris were passing down each side. The water ahead between the two ice sheets was clear.
“Our tax dollars proud at work,” Iona said.
The three laughed at her quip as the debris cloud steadily drifted toward them.
“Heh, heads up,” Ectis advised.
“Best part,” said Clio.
The plume reached them and stung their faces and hissed across the steel like grains of sand caught in gust on a windswept beach. It lasted several seconds.
“Amazing,” Dion said, his eyes wide open as the ice crystals clicked and scratched against his googles.
The pulverized remains of the iceberg passed and the rumbling of the ship had long ceased, returning the Arcturus to its solid stillness.
--End of this segment--