Getting to the Planet. Planetfall. Colonization. The resources war. The Caste War. The Plan in action. The fallout. The redemption.
Opening Theme: Going to see the statue.
Theme Stated: There are Asmovians aboard this specific ship and they’re working towards the Second Foundations plans on their arrival at the next colony planet, heretofore unnamed.
Set-up: That would be two things: One, being her getting the note which implicates a bad guy. A second point of view would be the Mayor Stevens sending out recording drones to monitor her safely for her “test”. So perhaps it’s worth mentioning here or before that she’s not yet a full member entrusted with much but this story will be her rising through the ranks of the Second Foundation to become a full fledged core member.
Catalyst: Could also be note left to her. Or perhaps a second point of reference that seems more violent in nature. Testing her resolve to remain passive in the eyes of terror.
Debate: She must have this with herself. Relying on her wits.
Break into Two: They notice the robotic eyes recording her and the message left behind had a specific claw imprint that only a few species have. She’s got a robotic companion that helps her produce her epic quantities of of art as well as helps her with her daily routines without knowing who she really is. She’s on good terms with the bot, though many treat them as second and third class citizens.
B Story: They split up and the bot goes searching for the source of the eyes. While she goes searching for the source of the angry postings. The bot is cornered. Beaten. Broken to near destruction, but is able to upload his consciousness to a service just in time before the last hit breaks his consciousness (We see the black bar swinging into his broken vision receptors) that replaces the body for a credit loss that they can well afford. She heads off to the lower castes lesser savory areas, bars, hangouts and starts to question looking for someone with a red claw, or the smell of fresh paint on them as it was quite strong in the alleyway. The issue being that when she’s in the bar, and it is full of the many exotic smokes of varying species she loses any possible chance of smelling her opponent out. The alcohol mixes together and smells faintly of paint thinner to her–as she had been enhanced by the foundation neurally.
Fun and Games: This is where the bad guy is noticed or gets antsy, flips over a table and makes for an escape. She follows them down an alleyway and find that it is indeed Abigail who had run from the predicament. “What are you doing running from me?” asks the protagonist. “Once you got close enough and saw my hand I knew it would only be a matter of time before you caught on that it was me that left the message.” says Abigail. Why would you do that to me? Scare me like that? I already don’t know who to trust around here.” Says Protagonist. Abigail places her clawed fingers on each of the protagonists shoulders and tells her not to worry it’s all part of the plan. That she passed the first part, and can be brought into the next phase of what’s to come because she was able to not only quickly find out who had been threatening her but asked for no help in doing so. At this point an in ear communication lets the protagonist know that the robot companion has reuploaded–much to her surprise, having no idea of the attack. “Was that you too?,” asks the protagonist to Abigail. Abigail shook her head. We value all life. Robot kind included. Something else on this ship is sending you a message my dear. They part ways. Abigail sends a message through an unblinking eye to Mayor Stevens that she passed with a lizard eyed wink.
Midpoint: She goes back and retrieves the bot who has taken a more advanced form, with nanotech weaved throughout as a meshed skin. While sexless in the species effect they do choose to go by either male, female, or they if so desired. Hers goes as He’h, a joke he made when first allotted to her. Places they could end up encountering the bad guys before their first battle/or their escape: school. Bar again highly unadvised. The outer hull. The shaft system where the poorest live known as the Rat Tanks/Tunnels. They would be your homeless, derelict that only made it on the ship through the skin of their teeth.
(10): Bad guys close in. So the two protagonists are heading down the tunnel when they are accosted by an old man who is very clearly drunk, but has a gleam in his eye. They begin to notice that they are being followed as species peel off the sides of the walls, and out from under refuse to follow them. They move quickly and with determination. The old man, who smells terribly of drink and lack of bath water grabs her roughly and pulls her into a side street. A tunnel no higher than her. He stoops to stand in the space. He’h compresses down slightly to make sure he fits as well, while dimming his eyes and other light emitting parts so that they don’t get caught. The old man flings them both into a pile of dirty rags and stands in front of the hallway blocking the view, half bent over. The species following them pass by, one knocking the old man down, who sprawls out comically as he goes down. Once the group has passed beyond them he gets up, dusts himself off–as best as he can considering he fell into a half puddle of oil and water, and offers a dripping hand to the protagonist. She shakes it with a mild feeling of disgust and relief as the threat seems to be gone for the moment. “I’m Homnie,” says the old man, and offers a smile. One tooth is missing from his upper jaw, but it radiates all the same. “Nice to meet you Mr. Homnie,” says He’h–always one for politeness. “Why did you save us?” asks the protagonist. Homnie winks. “I think you know why young ward.” “It takes all kinds,” she thinks to her self. “That it does–,” responds Homnie as though he heard her clear as day. He tapped on his temple. “Got a touch of the telepathy myself. Can’t win at the horses, but I get chatter every once in a while. Helps with the character. Mad old fool talking to himself, as it is best to appear to be,” She noted his odd way of speaking, as though he came from a much more formal upbringing than he was letting on. “The plan has use for us all, So…,” said Homnie. He slapped a gnarled hand over his mouth and a look of shock wracked his eyes. “Sorry dearest, almost let your name out. Must watch that mustn’t I?” said Homnie. The protagonist offered a worried look. “Are there others like you-telepaths on this ship? If there are I’m likely doomed to end up buried here before we make planetfall,” said the protagonist. “Can’t say I’ve found any, but I haven’t been everywhere on the ship yet. There’s still sector 7 and 9 to check into before I can confirm I’m the only one. Plus there are those that can hide their powers from others. Even other telepaths, with enough training,” said Homnie. “Will you help me scout the remaining areas to see if they will allow my safe passage to the planet. The Plan as far as I know, depends on making it down there.” asks the protagonist. The old man stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it ungracefully, flicking what he found on the end of his finger onto the ground. “I’ll do my best. But give me a couple of days per section. It’s hard on my old bones to walk that far without a cane. He’h responded automatically. Producing a cane from within his synthetic weave of older wood looked worn and aged by use and handed it to Homnie. “That’ll do the trick,” said Homnie, and twiddled his fingers at them both, smiled, and began to walk off with the gait of a much much younger man.
I live in the Pacific Northwest at the moment with my two dogs. I’m on disability for cerebral palsy and schizoaffective disorder. I’ve painted for Royalty, photographed for NASA, written nearly half a dozen books since getting sick, worked through my first biomedical patent (waiting to hear back on acceptance at this point) and I keep inventing things to keep sane, while working on comics and drawings, or paintings—whichever draws my fancy really.
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