Hi all,

 

I realise I have not written here for a bit nor have I started on my pledges for the Call To Arms (for shame!). Been a bit occupied travelling and with new job, etc.

I've set aside Prawa V and my beloved Resistance for a little. I've finished the story and am going to go back in a month or so with a big, fat, red pen and edit, whilst mostly muttering "what the was I thinking?"

 

In the meantime, I've started on a sequel set some 50 years later. Here's a small sample. I've leant into the Danish a little more for flavour this time. And, speaking of other languages, when I use Polish and Danish, they're not supposed to be literally those languages, more they are placeholders for other languages spoken by the people there, much as English is not likely the actual tongue people speak in either.

 

Danish and Polish are such radically different languages. Polish is very structured and has clearly defined rules. The idioms tend to be a little bleak, haha, but they reflect centuries of being conquered, then freed, conquered, then freed. You get the idea. Danish, in contrast, appears to have no rules at all. You either know how to pronounce something or you don't. And their idioms are a lot more whimsical.

 

I've also taken the liberty of using local dialects from the places I've lived. The Polish is of the Silesian/Śląske dialect while the Danish, which I am nowhere near as good at, is Fynske. 

 

Anyhow, enough of me prattling on about languages. Here's Freja, an up and coming mid-level functionary, born and raised into the system, now known as The Concord, some fifty years after the events of Prawa V. She has led a fairly sheltered and privileged life with a good education and her career path mapped out before her. The Concord arose as a result of a treaty between the Resistance and the Imperium, ostensibly giving more rights and freedoms to the ordinary people of Prawa V. However, Freja is noting little inconsistencies and investigating so she can fix the errors. She was not expecting to find this...

 

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The vidcomm unit's screen went blank for a moment. Then green text appeared on its dark display, overlaying the video capture:

 

Classified Footage | Designate: A-329 | Complex 73 Engagement
Timestamp: [REDACTED]
Audio: ENABLED
Playback: Begin

 

Freja leaned forward, her breath fogging slightly against the glass of the console monitor.

 

The footage was grainy, pulled from a static-mounted vox-cam overlooking the southern approach to Complex 73. The weather was overcast. Figures moved across the dust-choked plain, Imperial troops advancing in loose formations, fanning out around ruined emplacements and moving toward the shattered gates of the outpost.

 

She keyed the volume up a notch.

 

At first, only wind. A dry hum across the microphone. Then, low and distant, the sound. A rising howl. She could not discern its source at first. It came from somewhere beneath the camera, rising like pressure forced through a tunnel. A mechanical scream like some chained and tortured banshee. It built until distortion clipped the audio. Freja instinctively winced.

 

Then came the first burst. Two seconds of staccato hammering, each round a fist slamming against the the very fabric of the land. The Vulcans spoke with all the fury of a storm battering a shore. On-screen, an entire forward squad simply vanished. One moment they were crouched by a barricade. The next moment just mist, and parts, and ruin. The earth behind them erupted upward in blood, and mud, and flame.

 

She held her breath.

 

Another burst. This time it tore through an armoured personnel carrier. The vehicle buckled in place, armour peeling backward like fruit skin, then erupted from within. Screams lanced through the audio feed, brief, and wet, and silenced too fast to linger. Between each burst, she could hear the sound of shell casings hitting the floor.

 

The camera shuddered as something passed it, a dark shape, fast, tracked only by its wake and the blur of hull. It pivoted mid-frame with unnerving speed for something of its bulk. There was a pause. Then three more staccato bursts. Bunkers detonated like oil drums. Earthworks collapsed inward. The footage blurred again as debris smashed against the lens.

 

Freja flinched. Not from the violence, but from the sound the deliberate rhythm of it. The way each burst was spaced, measured, and executed. She watched a nightmare given form. She reached for the controls, and paused. Her hand was shaking.

 

More footage followed. Distant shouts. Vox-commands from officers trying to rally their troops. Then came the flame. The side-mounted weapons ignited, torrents of liquid fire scouring trenches. Shapes ran and burned. The beast moved through it all, steady and purposeful. A living verdict. It did not halt. It did not hesitate. The howl rose again as the cannons spun, a keening shriek as it unleashed its rage.

 

And Freja, who had grown up beneath silver and white banners, who had believed in census codes and public order, watched everything she understood burn beneath its barrage.

 

On-screen, a final burst tore across the horizon, cutting down the retreating line like stalks at harvest. Then static.

 

Freja sat back in her chair, pulse roaring in her ears. Her voice, when it came, was small. "Emperor's name..."

 

But the file gave no answer. Only a final tag in the corner of the screen.

 

Designate: A-329

 

[NO FURTHER RECORDS FOUND]

 

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I did think about having Freja's final line be "Holy Emperor on a bicycle..." but I thought that might break immersion a little. I've just recently watched the Fallout series and love the naïvety of the main character (okey dokey, then!)

 

As for 329, it's based on the Macharius Vulcan and I took the name Vulcan and ran with it. The Avro Vulcan, a jet bomber from the 50s and onward, is famous for its 'howl'. There's plenty of vids on YouTube out there demonstrating it and I remember seeing one at an airshow in my teens. If I knew I was going to be on the receiving end of its wrath, hearing that sound would make me reconsider my life choices. So, I built it into 329 as a psychological weapon. Just hearing those cannons spin up would have many doing an about-face and heading in the other direction. I do appreciate the game 'meta' with this particular model isn't great, but it is rather one of my favourites! I do rather imagine the sound of 329's cannons sounding like a deeper, bass rumble variant of the smart guns in Aliens, though I have struggled to put that sound into words. Suggestions gratefully received!

 

Anyhow, thoughts, as always, most welcome.