Post by Fargo Squire on May 15, 2006 20:09:43 GMT -5
And the reason I checked this thread after all this time is because I have begun a new project of my own. I'm not sure where I'm going with it yet, but here are the roots:
Paul
Dawn and tragedy rendezvoused in Nabeul, Tunisia on July 7th of the year 3012. At first light, the Italian navy struck hard, firing on buildings that were designed only to survive natural disasters. Soldiers garbed in the pale green of the Soviet Empire swarmed the town with orders to shoot a few more civilians than necessary; the Soviets fully intended to horrify thoughts of rebellion from the minds of Nabeul's people.
Inhabitants of the town still scurried through the streets in hopes of escaping or finding refuge, but an effective quarantine of the area was in place. No one would set foot outside the town. No one but Paul.
As he jogged away from the town where only hours ago he had been vacationing, his first thought was that it was rather remarkable he'd slipped by the soldiers around the city. These men were not fools, and it was only luck that kept him on the neglected roads of a foreign town, and that kept even one soldier from happening to scan the surrounding countryside on a Tuesday morning that, despite the gunfire and death in the town, was still a pleasant one.
I've got to alert someone, he thought. I have to save those people.
But of course there would already be coverage of the attack on the net. Already any counterstrike intended would be on its way to execution. He slowed to a walk, his breathing evening out as he searched his mind for a new course of action.
This had all begun a week ago, with the forging of the North African Unification Pact. Ruling the entirety of the eastern hemisphere, excluding Africa, the Soviet Empire had turned its hungry eyes to that great landmass; a gentle giant, so dull and lacking in ambition that it would need more than a little nudge to find the advantage in joining the rising powers.
Soviet ambassadors had spent the last few months in negotiation with the leaders of all the nations of North Africa and had finally produced a treaty that bonded those smaller countries into one nation, an appendage of the Empire. Tunisia was the only rebel.
What an opportune time, thought Paul, for a vacation in Nabeul.
Paul
Dawn and tragedy rendezvoused in Nabeul, Tunisia on July 7th of the year 3012. At first light, the Italian navy struck hard, firing on buildings that were designed only to survive natural disasters. Soldiers garbed in the pale green of the Soviet Empire swarmed the town with orders to shoot a few more civilians than necessary; the Soviets fully intended to horrify thoughts of rebellion from the minds of Nabeul's people.
Inhabitants of the town still scurried through the streets in hopes of escaping or finding refuge, but an effective quarantine of the area was in place. No one would set foot outside the town. No one but Paul.
As he jogged away from the town where only hours ago he had been vacationing, his first thought was that it was rather remarkable he'd slipped by the soldiers around the city. These men were not fools, and it was only luck that kept him on the neglected roads of a foreign town, and that kept even one soldier from happening to scan the surrounding countryside on a Tuesday morning that, despite the gunfire and death in the town, was still a pleasant one.
I've got to alert someone, he thought. I have to save those people.
But of course there would already be coverage of the attack on the net. Already any counterstrike intended would be on its way to execution. He slowed to a walk, his breathing evening out as he searched his mind for a new course of action.
This had all begun a week ago, with the forging of the North African Unification Pact. Ruling the entirety of the eastern hemisphere, excluding Africa, the Soviet Empire had turned its hungry eyes to that great landmass; a gentle giant, so dull and lacking in ambition that it would need more than a little nudge to find the advantage in joining the rising powers.
Soviet ambassadors had spent the last few months in negotiation with the leaders of all the nations of North Africa and had finally produced a treaty that bonded those smaller countries into one nation, an appendage of the Empire. Tunisia was the only rebel.
What an opportune time, thought Paul, for a vacation in Nabeul.
