Fanfic - A Second Person Short Story.

Something that came up elsewhere, the question of whether many things had been written in the Second Person. It turned out that not many have, so here's something I threw together to test the concept.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You wake.

The machine has registered a need for your presence, it revives you with a carefully applied cocktail of stimulants and drugs to bring you from dormancy to alertness in a moment.

You wake knowing that you must report to a specific location, and for you thought is the same as action. You move. The machine feeds you information through a complex set of linkages and connections giving you senses beyond those other creatures experience. You know exactly where you are, where all the others like you are. And you are surrounded by them, which is comforting and right.

There is a large space. The machine identifies it as a launching bay, and you move out of the door and into the air, into a descending stream of those like you. Soldiers. The call now is to battle, and as ever you understand your place in this formation and the things you are expected to do.

The initial assault is already over but there have been casualties. This is unusual but not unexpected. The assumption is there will be casualties. The machine is strong and powerful but not infallible. This does not fill you with dread or worry.

On the ground there are many of your fellows. You join with two others and move off to an area marked as one to be patrolled. The machine tells you much of the surroundings are shrouded in smoke, but you cannot see it and the machine is not baffled by such ephemeral challenges.

To your right, something moves. You focus and in an instant the machine tells you the shape is a human. One of a group totalling six. They are armed and immediately freeze, hoping they have not been seen. One of your group orders them to drop their weapons and surrender. Four do, the other two run. You level your weapon and prepare to fire but they fall to the guns of others. You turn your attention to the four cowering before you. There is no pride in this, no thrill. All you see are weaklings, inferior beings. As yet there is no requirement for prisoners or laborers and after a moment the machine confirms that the groveling, pleading humans are without use. You gun them down swiftly and move on.

At an intersection you are presented with a challenge. The machine tells you a weapon is aimed at you, one that has a targetting mechanism which the machine registers, one that fires a projectile. The machine indicates that a direct hit would cause damage, takes control of your gun and, as the projectile launches, intercepts it. The explosion is large enough to cause structural damage to nearby buildings. You can hear shattering glass and as the fireball expands the machine tracks the projectile back to the source. You fire several times, your companions follow suit and are rewarded with several secondary explosions. Ammunition detonating. You ignore this display and move on. The machine registers fading life, then ceases to register it.

As you move, humans attempt to prevent your passage. They fail. You do not stop to wonder at their futile actions. They cannot possibly stop you. As you move reports filter in from all across the battlefield. The casualties on your side are in single figures, on the other the confirmed kill count is already in five digits and climbing.

There is an open area, a space between buildings that the humans have gathered in. They are non-combatant. They vary in height, in weight, in coloring. Some stand still, displaying nothing. Some fall to their knees and hold out their hands or hide their faces. There is so little about them that is uniform, so much variation. For the first time since waking you feel something: disgust. You circle them, the machine enumerating, probing, communicating. A decision is made, the shooting starts, you glide away. It is good that they are dead, not only because they will now not be a drain on resources, but because they were so very different.

Time passes and you are not challenged further. Others have taken stock and have found what was sought. Human prisoners are now being taken to service the rest of the plan, the last pockets of resistance finally disappear and the message you have expected all along floods the network of alike minds -

Daleks Reign Supreme.

Well tested, Doc. An excellent short, props are given.

*applauds*

Cheers, but before y'all get enthused it's a first draft.

I will work on it, I think, and repost later.

Excellent story, although for a moment I thought it was going to be a story about the Dalek that shot the Doctor in The Stolen Earth. Imagine the conflicting feelings that must have been running through his mind!

Lee Carey wrote:Excellent story, although for a moment I thought it was going to be a story about the Dalek that shot the Doctor in The Stolen Earth. Imagine the conflicting feelings that must have been running through his mind!

I can't approach that scene sensibly, because I want to write it like Iain Banks does his Culture Ships. Something like...

>Encode: General Net Unsecure
>Proc 77B1AFF/microrels/convostream/8
>Units Connected: All.

- YES!!! Ooooohhhhhh yes! Who's your progenitor? WHO IS YOUR PROGENITOR?!!

>Dalek Supreme has is connected

DS: Identify!

- what do you mean Identify? I'm a Dalek!

DS: Sarcasm detected! Command Override!

>command unvoice/noncurrent; path ident users
>
>Supreme Dalek, Dalek 8776236545988398
>Command override: Davros says let's make this easier to follow!
>command local_rename: Dalek 8775236545988398=Fred

Fred: Quite apart from that, I'll tell you who I am! I'm the Dalek that finally exterminated The Doctor! I'M your Progenitor, baby! WOOOOO!

Supreme Dalek: Unsanctioned Celebration will cease!
Fred: You're just jealous! Over forty years we've been trying to kill him! Ka Faraq Gatri? Ka Faraq History more like!
Davros: Is there...a body?
Fred: He's dead, he's dead, break out the whateveritis we use to celebrate with and let's prepare to toast me! Because I saw the shot and, like, I just took it! Boom! Kapow!
>
>
Fred: What do you mean "is there a body"?
Davros: Is there a body and is it glowing?
Fred: No, he's there. Hang on, I'll go and give him a bit of a prod with the old sink plunger. Hang on..who's tha
+++interrupt, carrier lost+++
Supreme Dalek: Damn.
Davros: I told you. Dalek Caan told you. We told you.
Supreme Dalek: I know, I know.
Davros: This is not our first Time War. We know the Doctor. We warned you.
Supreme Dalek: Oh, shut up.
+++The Supreme Dalek has disconnected+++
Davros: LOL.

I like both of these.

:D:D

Me too they're very clever and the second one is also very funny!