ScrewedUpDice Posted February 20, 2013 Report Share Posted February 20, 2013 (edited) "This is aethervox station capa, alpha, rom..." static drowned out the signal as the Guild Operator nudged past the transmission frequency. A panicked twist of the dial brought the signal back "...ember, echo. Broadcasting at 203 in the medium wave. Good evening Malifaux.." The operator dropped his headphones and ran to the Officer's Mess. He hardly paused at the door, something that would have been an egregious breach of protocol had the news not been so important. "Sir, they're on the air again!" # The vox hissed and whined. O'Rahilly held the headphones loosely against one ear, ready to release them if there was a hint of the unearthly howling that had plagued the aether over the last few nights. The sibilant whispers he'd been able to ignore, mostly, but he suspected that was only because they hadn't been meant for him; the screams, had left his ears bleeding. Thankfully the only sounds he'd heard so far this night were the voices of other Arcanist operators, reading off their coded messages. He jotted down the pairs of letters and numbers, translating from memory as he went, jumping frequencies as needed to track the instructions. The relative rarity of vox receiver units meant there was little chance of parties unknown stumbling across the staccato transmissions; most public receivers were locked to a narrow frequency range of official stations by command of the Governor. It was the more earnest attentions of the Guild, or any rogue elements, the Arcanists needed to avoid, and they'd been quite proficient at the task, waging a silent war fought with technology and brain power rather than blade and brute force. # The Captain looked out over the ranked up Guardsmen, stood to attention in the lantern lit yard. "The Governor has tasked me with hunting down the Arcanist scum broadcasting their lies and terrorist messages across the 'vox network, and this city. Hoffman has provided us with his latest inventions in order to track down the filth spreading this poison, and Secretary Matherson's Elite Division will be operating these devices. They are transmitting their insidious message this very night, and we're going to find them, and silence them, permanently." The Captain paused, making eye contact with his Sergeants. "We do this as drilled. Two patrols will head out and triangulate whatever den the Arcanists are using. We converge upon it, and drag them out to face Guild justice. I want runners on the ground, and men on the rooftops. There'll be Watchers in the air and Austringers as well. The dog packs will be ready to chase the bastards down. I don't want anyone escaping. We move out in five." The ranks broke up, men falling out to make last checks on their kit, and prepare for the night ahead. # A string of messages was revealed letter by letter beneath O'Rahilly's pen, orders and reports transmitted from other short range broadcasters within the Arcanist network. What little rumour the disparate nature of the Arcanists' organisation permitted to travel said that Ramos had devised the code himself, and that deep in the bowels of Hollow Marsh a specialised arachnid construct tapped out messages with the tips of its many limbs, sending them out along a web of wires to broadcast stations. A message cut across the frequencies. The code was rapid, and O'Rahilly jotted it down as a string before decoding it. "2GP NE NW TRI" O'Rahilly confirmed the message, and considered it. The Guild's triangulation patrols were becoming a regular occurrence when the city was quiet enough for the men to be spared. Two groups increased their odds of success and their equipment was continually improving. He still believed that the Arcanists were ahead of the game, but there was no point taking chances. He adjusted the microphone and began his own transmission. # The Division specialist rotated the antenna and listened intently. The power reserve of the portable receivers was several limited and between that, the twisting streets of the city, and the ever present interference, getting a proper lock on the signal was an issue. He picked up the transmission, but not quite in the direction he'd expected, and there were ghosts of it at other points of the compass. He powered down the unit, the Sergeant's eyes upon him. "No firm direction this time Sir, but south seems to be the most consistent reading." "You heard the man. Move out." The Guards muttered as they moved off, complaining of the wild goose chase they'd been set upon. They'd moved in a wavering line across the city, under the order of Matherson's man and his device, for over an hour and had nothing to show for it. Intermittent communication from the other patrol had been delivered by the Austringer's Raptor, and from the Sergeant's reaction, they seemed to be having no more success. Returning empty-handed would bring punishment duties on top of more nights spent on this fiasco. # O'Rahilly ducked into the main transmission room, careful to tread quietly less his footsteps be picked up by the microphone. Lodge glanced around none the less, not even breaking his patter, as he read out news of Guild raids on the houses of Union members in the city. Lodge's broadcast was a different beast to O'Rahilly's work, and just as important. Set to transmit on a single frequency, and with a fairly strong signal, Lodge and others like him provided an alternative station for anyone with the means to receive them. The Arcanvox stations as they had come to be known, provided a platform for the Arcanist message, amongst news, general information and entertainment, all unfiltered by Guild control; a far cry from the staid and controlled official broadcasts. This came at a price though, and that was the signal being tracked by the Guild. "... and now time for a record, from out of Old London town." Lodge let the phonograph's needle touch the cylinder, and carefully removed his headphones. He walked silently out into the corridor, joining the retreating O'Rahilly. "What news?" "There's another Guild patrol out trying to triangulate a signal, but interference is being arranged." "They're always a step behind. Besides we've always got insurance." Lodge flicked a finger against the brass locket hanging around O'Rahilly's neck. "I'd rather not use it, if we don't have to." The smile O'Rahilly gave was bitter. "Well yes, it wouldn't be insurance otherwise. Who's dealing with the Guild?" "Our very own guardian angel." "Ha. They won't even get close." # The Guildsmen were spread out around the square. Those few unfortunate souls abroad in the middle of the night turned away quickly from the light of their lanterns shining down the streets and alleyways. At the centre of the open space, the Division specialist stood, antenna pointed southward, his commander next to him. "Sir I've got a positive fix, they're..." His words turned to a scream as he was wreathed in fire. The Sergeant staggered back, face singed by the heat, jagged spikes of metal that had been the vox receiver jutting from his chest. There was a piecing whine from above, as the Watcher plummeted, its wings alight, but still futilely flapping, its metal body red hot. It hit the ground with a shattering crash. A Fire Gamin appeared by the fallen construct, summoned from thin air, and skittered towards the nearest Guard, the cobbles beneath its feet hissing and cracking with the heat. The perimeter Guards recovered from the shock of the unexpected attack and turned their guns on the creature. Their accuracy was poor, but the weight of fire did the work, felling the creature, which exploded in a bright flash of burning, organic shrapnel. The Guards attention focused inwards: they didn't notice when their own men began to fall from gunfire, collapsing at the mouths of the streets and alleyways they had been protecting. Men and women festooned with pistols emerged from the sides of the square, catching the Guardsmen at the centre of a killing field. The remainder retreated towards the crashed Watcher, surrounding the Austringer who was frantically attaching a message to the leg of his bird, the ink hardly dry. The Raptor circled upwards, only to come spiralling to earth as another Gamin launched itself from a nearby rooftop, and brought the creature down, as a squawking, stinking mass of burning feathers, in the middle of the knotted Guardsmen. Outgunned, with their escapes cut off, there was little they could do, but sell their lives as dearly as possible. The Guildsmen charged. Kaeris circled high above the square on her mechanical wings, watching her forces dissect the patrol. Speed was of the essence, as there was the second group to deal with, before the alarm was raised. Something pinged off one of her wings, unsteadying her flight for a moment. She caught sight of a Guard on the rooftop, his gun raised, and swept down towards him, hands trailing fire. "I wouldn't have done that if I were you." # The next day the Arcanists reports of the ambushes were as divorced from the truth as the Guild's silence on the matter. "Early today the badly burned bodies of Guild Guardsmen were found in the city, having been attacked by parties unknown. Unsubstantiated rumours suggest that Sonnia Criid, head of the Guild's Witch Hunters, and known pyromancer, was seen with the patrols earlier in the night..." ____________ Word Count: 1570 Mystery Ingredients I've used everything to a greater or lesser degree. THEME: Heroism in the Face of Defeat (The poor Guild Guard with their last stand) CHARACTER: The Pirate (O'Rahilly et. all, manning the Arcanist's Pirate Radio). LINE: "I wouldn't have done that if I were you." (Kaeris, right at the end). ITEM: Brass Locket (Omniouly mentioned between O'Rahilly and Lodge. There was a lot more I wanted to do with this, but there just wasn't the words to have to plot get that far). There's a lot here I want to dig into, such as broadcast signal intrusions; where the Arcanists are transmitting from; the aether being just plain weird, turning the mind of listeners; the nature of the Guild broadcasts, including speakers declaiming the Arcanists; the Arcanists network; more of Kaeris; and a host of other things that disappeared during plotting writing and editing. The story almost started with a leap from a train. It's come a long way in a month. Edited February 28, 2013 by ScrewedUpDice Story finished Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mephiston Posted February 27, 2013 Report Share Posted February 27, 2013 Like the idea of this, hope you get it finished! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScrewedUpDice Posted February 27, 2013 Author Report Share Posted February 27, 2013 Cheers. It's all come together a bit too well, and is in need of a serious cutting down. Time to kill some darlings. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ScrewedUpDice Posted February 28, 2013 Author Report Share Posted February 28, 2013 And done. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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