Week 11 Story: Desolation

Messier 88 (Messier Objects)

Portfolio version available: https://sites.google.com/view/sotpapepics/desolation

With my body reclined, I start to open my eyes and find my vision unfocused. I see colors but not shapes. My thoughts stand still as I understand in some innate sense what would happen if I parsed together where I am and why. A few moments pass as my mind inevitably exits the silent void.

A rumble from the ship speeds up the recovery of my cognition and a cacophony of sirens, alarms, warnings, and alerts assault my hearing. My eyes begin moving before my body does. I noticed that apart from the scattered paper and belongings, everything seemed to be in pristine condition. The screens were not cracked and nothing seemed externally broken. It seemed like a perfectly functioning ship, though this illusion is betrayed by the alarms. Sitting up, mind still devoid of emotion, I involuntarily recount what happened.

I was piloting this transport ship to move high density colony-powering fuel cells to an outpost in Messier 88. Somewhere along my journey, I figured to put my compression device, which crumples space around it to achieve speeds faster than light, into overdrive. It'd burn a hell of a lot of fuel but I did the calculations and saw that it'd shorten my travel time by 8 hours and I'd have fuel leftover to go back at normal speed by the end. I knew it was dangerous with a ship as big as this, but I had more faith in the autonomous navigation system than I should have. I overcharged the compression device and next thing I know, I'm here.

I checked the system logs and discover I've been out for 22 hours and the ship's been burning fuel for the past 18. Ship status shows a heavy hull impact, probably what put me out of commission in the first place. After the collision, the ship's autopilot was compromised, so it pointed toward a direction and kept flying. Fuel reserves were depleted, only emergency battery cell power was powering core systems and life support. The plotted route finally told me what I was afraid of knowing, and what was burning a hole in my back the entire time I've been awake. I overshot the outpost, on the edge of Messier 88, by thirty-six thousand light years. I thought of my options one at a time. Calling for support would be futile, as it would tens of thousands of years to reach anyone. I know that nobody can tell where I am either, otherwise my ship would have been interdicted during travel. All I'm left with is a few days worth of life support in this vast expanse.

I lay back in my reclined seat and bend my head back towards the rear of the ship. A beautiful, sparkling, violet cloud of gases and stars envelop my cone of vision. It all seems so close, as if I could reach out and touch it. Gazing into the spiral of color and life, my thoughts start fading. I start to surrender my ability to make out shapes, leaving only vibrant color. I close my eyes and drift to sleep.

Author's Note: Hmm... the story this time seems kind of depressing, huh? Anyways, this story is influenced by The Sandy Road from The Jataka Tales by Ellen C. Babbitt. It was about a group of traders who threw away all the water for their oxen because they thought they'd get to a town in a day. The oxen end up walking in a circle after the navigator falls asleep and they have to find water by digging into the ground. They end up finding the water in the end and learn a good lesson. My story is pretty similar, with the main character (the only character, in this case,) taking a risk and overcharging his compression device. It ends up stranding him outside of the galaxy, tens of thousands of light years away from any other lifeform. I ended up having the main character become very apathetic from the start. I suppose the only reason he really got up from his seat was to gain some sense of closure, and after he found it he returned to the state he was in when the story started. I ended up with a very neutral language in the first, second, and fourth paragraphs to show the character's apathy, but during the third paragraph I added a little bit of less neutral feeling words and expressed the character's feelings more clearly to show that he wasn't always like this. I'm not sure how effective it was. The fifth paragraph represents the main character's acceptance of his fate so I gave it a more uplifting tone, which still turned out to be pretty sad since it carries that implication.

Bibliography: The Sandy Road from The Jataka Tales by Ellen C. Babbitt

Week 9 Story: Oasis

Oasis (Wikipedia)

Our story begins with four brothers on a trek back to their desert village. They had gone to trade goods with travelers rumored to be staying a neighboring village who came from faraway lands. But as the brothers discovered that this rumor was false, they immediately headed back in anger and disappointment.

The wind swept across the endless desert plains, whipping the sand up and obscuring the light of the sun. The oldest brother was in the lead and he motioned to the rest to stop for a break during this sandstorm. It was, after all, very dangerous to keep moving through the desert without direction. The brothers took this chance to take stock of their belongings.

They laid out their supplies in front of them. An ornate lever-action rifle with twelve rounds of ammunition, medical gauze, fire sticks, salted meat to last them four days, but only enough water to last them two. The youngest brother realized their folly: they forgotten to resupply at the neighboring village in their anger. As their situation was now dire, they were forced to press on through the storm.

30 hours passed before the storm cleared. The brothers started bickering over the direction of their travels, each arguing for a different direction to head in before the eldest made his decision final. Additionally, the brothers miscalculated their water intake, failing to take into account the extra hydration needed because of the salted meat. Their jugs were empty. Still, they march on, hoping for a miracle.

6 hours passed as day became dusk when they saw a patch of greenery in the distance. It was surely an oasis, they thought. As weary as they were, they sent the second youngest to fetch water from the pond, as he was the last to drink from the jugs. The rest waited. And waited. And waited.

The brothers grew impatient and figured that he was drinking the water himself the entire time, the oldest brother instructed the second oldest to scold him and go fetch the water. Again they waited until the oldest brother angrily decided to go there himself, leaving the youngest to wait. He hears a  crack in the distance, then another, and three more after that. The youngest brother chose not to wait any longer.

He found his brothers laid down in the water, but while approaching them a voice commanded him to stop. He heard the commands but did not understand them. But rather than coming to the aid of his brothers, he walked straight up to the oasis out of delirium, hoping to finally quench his thirst. He touched his lips to the water and drowned the very core of his soul.

Author's Note: So this is a story based on the lake story from the Mahabharata, where Yudhisthira and co. meet with yaksha. The yaksha kills everyone for drinking from his lake but Yudhisthira beats the yaksha in a riddle contest of sorts and so the ones that were killed got revived. This story is supposed to be in the 1800s, though there aren't many clues to that besides the lever action rifle. I originally planned for the story to stick to the original plot with the youngest brother saving the rest, but I decided having him fall victim to the oasis would be more interesting.

Bibliography: The Mahabharata by R. K. Narayan

Week 6 Story: The Sultan of Swat

Baseball Diamond (Wikipedia)

Babe was born in 1983 to a legendary family of baseball players. His father was a slugger, like his father before him. After their fathers retired, each son in the family would take up the reigns and carry on the family legacy. Babe was no different. His father raised him from when he was a toddler to become the greatest baseball player who ever lived. When Babe started going to elementary school, he began to play baseball with the neighborhood kids, some of them twice his age. Because of his training, Babe would excel in these games and his popularity quickly rose. The older kids started calling him The Sultan of Swat. By the time Babe was in the 4th grade, the entire neighborhood, including the adults, would come to spectate at these impromptu baseball games. One day, while Babe was showing off his skill at the plate, another boy walked from the crowd onto the field.

Barry's life started in 1983 as well. He was found abandoned in front of a foster home, which took him in. He lived a hard life where he owned nothing and the few things he had in his possession were shared with all the other kids, though he had one thing he would absolutely not give up. His most prized possession was a baseball left with him when he was abandoned. The second he was told about baseball, he started playing it with the kids on the lawn of the home. When he turned 8, he was finally adopted by a couple. His new father was a taxi driver and his mother was a teacher. Barry kept his love for baseball and began to play it with the kids at his school. Through his dedication, he refined his skills to the point of perfection. Barry's family moved when he started the 4th grade after his mother found a better job in another school district.

Barry stepped out onto the field and stared at the crowd. He yelled at Babe to give up the plate to him, telling him that he could do everything he can and better. Though the other kids on the lot jeered at Barry, Babe was curious. He thought to himself that no kid as disheveled and dirty as this one could beat him, so he'd let Barry humiliate himself in front of the audience. Babe tossed the bat to Barry, who stepped up to the plate and assumed a batting position. The pitcher threw a mean knuckle ball but Barry read the movements perfectly. The bat cracked like lightning when he struck the ball as it flew into the air over the houses fences behind them. The jeers returned with the kids calling it a fluke, but Barry did it again and again until they were satisfied. He then offered a challenge to Babe. If he could win against Babe in a game of baseball, Babe would have to give up his title. Babe accepted but the sun started setting, putting their match on hold until the next time they met.

Author's Note: So this is based off a story from the Mahabharata. Arjuna has a half-brother named Karna who was abandoned at birth, put into a basket and sent down a river. Arjuna grew up as a prince and was taught by masters how to conduct himself in combat. Karna was adopted by a charioteer and wanted to learn more about archery, so he asked a master called Drona to teach him. He was rejected, so he ended up asking Drona's guru to teach him instead. Arjuna is performing these miraculous acts in front of an audience through the use of astras when Karna comes in and tells everyone he can do everything Arjuna did. So Karna demonstrates this and proposes a fight with Arjuna, but the day ends before they can fight. In my story, Babe represents Arjuna, being from a noble heritage and taught by a master. Barry represents Karna, being abandoned at birth and taken in by a taxi driver (charioteer). I liked the idea of Karna growing as an archer to be equal to Arjuna through sheer hard work, even though it's more likely it was just a natural gift seeing as they're both offsprings of the gods. Nevertheless, I showed Barry refining his skills through sheer hard work and getting to be equals with Babe.

Bibliography: The Mahabharata by R. K. Narayan

Week 5 Story: SCP-5093

Ornate bow and arrow (Open Clip Art)

An updated portfolio version is available here!


Item #: SCP-5093

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-5093 is to be stored in a standard reinforced security safe It is should only be accessible to Level 4+ staff, excepting those with permission to access from Level 4+ staff.

Description: SCP-5093 is an ornately decorated arrow that measures 110 centimeters in length. The arrow shaft is made from ficus religiosa. The shaft is inset with with sapphires and rubies. The arrowhead is composed of an unknown metal, tested to be at least as hard as wurtzite boron nitride. The fletching is made from particularly large feathers of unknown origin.

SCP-5093 was recovered just south of the Himalayas, located in the epicenter of a smoldering crater measuring 138 meters in diameter and 14 meters in depth.

SCP-5093 exhibits noteworthy properties when fired under certain circumstances, which are shown in the experiment logs below and accessible only to Level 4+ staff. These properties are entirely dependent on the user wielding the arrow, and range from a simple increase in force applied to the arrow, to the arrow instantaneously reaching its target upon firing.

Experiment Log #001-00A
Class D Personnel skilled in archery instructed to use standard compound bow to fire arrow down outdoor testing range. The arrow was wildly inaccurate due to its size but otherwise exhibited no anomalous properties.

Experiment Log #002-00A
After over 100 experiments failing to activate the arrow, Dr. █████, who practices Hinduism, personally volunteered to be a test subject after seeing the arrow. After picking up the arrow, Dr. █████ chanted a prayer in Hindi, which caused the arrow to emanate a yellow glow. Upon firing, the arrow was measured to have an initial velocity of 1200 meters per second, creating a sonic boom at the point it was fired. The arrow was embedded into the target with reasonable accuracy. The properties exhibited here are consistent with some astras appearing in Hindu texts.

Experiment Log #003-00A
The foundation enlisted the aid of a skilled Hindu archer, Mr. █████, for the purposes of the experiment. After identifying SCP-5093 as the Aindrastra, Mr. █████ was reluctant to fire the arrow, repeatedly explaining to staff that he was not worthy of it. Mr. █████ was eventually convinced by Dr. █████ to fire the arrow.

When Mr. █████ chanted a prayer and fired the arrow, it created no sonic boom. Rather, a loud shrieking of the air reverberated across the testing grounds, retaining a constant volume regardless of distance from the epicenter. The shriek was detected from up to 1km away from the testing point. Furthermore, the arrow seemed to have instantly arrived at the target as no detection devices monitoring the testing point which were capable of detecting near light-speed objects, could detect the arrow midflight.

Experiment Log #003-00B
The test was repeated, but with a steel barrier between the target and Mr. █████. Upon firing the arrow, the the arrow once again instantly hit the target, but the steel barrier was destroyed after this. The results of this experiment suggest that the arrow is capable of causality reversal. Further experimentation has been requested.

Author's Note: I wanted to do a kind of SCP story like this but with an astra since around the start of the semester. It's a weird writing style from what I'm used to and it feels kind of like I'm writing a report. Anyways this is a story about the Aindrastra, the astra that Lakshmana used to behead Indrajit. In the story, it was said that the arrow was flying so fast that Indrajit, although seeing it coming, could not physically react fast enough to dodge it. I decided to have it go a step further and create an Aindrastra that not only went super fast, but reached its target so fast that it reverses the nature of cause and effect. I thought adding in the shriek for when it did this would give the Aindrastra a more intimidating and powerful nature. The arrow fired by the Doctor was really powerful and broke the sound barrier, causing a loud crack in the air. I thought "If the arrow were made even more powerful, shouldn't the noise generated be even crazier?", so I made a really loud noise that sounded the same regardless of how far they were and how much stuff was between them and the arrow.

Bibliography: The Ramayana by Krishna Dharma

Week 4 Story: Final Communication from Orion Station

Tar Seep (Wikipedia)

SAMSON: So flip mode control on.. like that, okay. This is Samson from Orion station, anyone receiving?

EAGLE STATION: Copy Orion, this is Eagle station receiving. What happened?

SAMSON: I'm not too sure myself, we've got multiple hull breaches. Whole station depressurized while I was in airlock. I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one here now.

EAGLE STATION: Where are you now, Samson?

SAMSON: East Wing Comms room. Still in my suit since I haven't found a part of the station that wasn't shot to hell. Need coordinates for evac shuttle ASAP. I'm going to try to link comms with my suit.

EAGLE STATION: Confirm comm link. Sending coordinate data. Are you able to link video feed?

SAMSON: I might have damaged the camera during depressurization. I still can't believe the station didn't blow up from that.

EAGLE STATION: Do you still have access to your research files?

SAMSON: I think that's lost already, Eagle. I'm heading to the East Wing evac shuttles.

EAGLE STATION: Acknowledged.

---

SAMSON: Uh, Eagle station this is Samson.

EAGLE STATION: Receiving.

SAMSON: I, uh, see some kind of black tar coating the East Wing's corridors through the door panel. It's moving around so I think I'm going to evacuate through the hangar's shuttles.

EAGLE STATION: Wait, you're seeing black tar in the East Wing?

SAMSON: Yeah, it looks like it's coagulating or something. Squirms around too, like it's trying to collect together. I'm running low on air though, need to get moving.

---

SAMSON: Eagle station, I'm at the hangar. Boarding the evac shut-

EAGLE STATION: Comms link reestablished. Are you receiving, Samson?

SAMSON: Sorry Eagle, had to get out fast. Didn't have time to link coordinates. The whole place started falling apart, or it started being crushed or something. Had to get out soon though.

EAGLE STATION: Alright Samson, send shuttle trajectory and give us a visual report of Orion's current status if you can.

SAMSON: Holy hell... Orion's surrounded by this stuff!

EAGLE STATION: What 'stuff'?

SAMSON: The tar! The black tar! And... are those tendrils? They're pulling apart the entire station, Jesus!

EAGLE STATION: Samson, do you have any way to visually capture this tar?

SAMSON: God, it's like it's pulling the station towards it... swallowing it...

EAGLE STATION: Samson, we still need you to send your trajectory for resc-

SAMSON: It's gone- the entire station! Oh my god, it's growing! What have w-

EAGLE STATION: Samson, send trajectory now.

EAGLE STATION: Samson, confirm that you're receiving.

EAGLE STATION: Comm link severed. Attempting to reestablish.

Author's Note: This story is very loosely based off of Kumbhakharna. In the Ramayana, Kumbhakarna is the younger brother of Ravana. He's a giant who slept for months at a time due to an accidental curse placed upon him. After waking, he would eat everything around him. As he fought Rama, he was reduced to inches of flesh but kept fighting. This made me think of a kind of ancient alien species. I wanted the species in my story to be kind of like grey goo, in that they're microscopic organisms that gather together into one mass, absorbing everything around it. The story leaves a lot to the imagination but the research project being conducted at the Orion woke this ancient evil and it started consuming the station. As Samson escapes, a tendril reaches him and he's absorbed into the tar as well.

Bibliography: The Ramayana by R. K. Narayan

Week 3 Story: One Condition

Rama breaking the bow (Wikipedia)

Portfolio Version: https://sites.google.com/view/sotpapepics/shivas-unyielding-bow

Two assistants push open the gold-adorned doors in front of us and we're bathed in the sterilizing white light flooding forth from the assembly hall. My fellow suitors are speechless at the grandeur of it all. As my eyes adjust, I can make out the figure of King Janaka seated at the end of the table, along with the daughter we had all desired the favor of. He tells us to step in and listen to his speech.

Still sitting, he commands: "To those who wish to wed my daughter, I present just one condition."

Confusion manifested in the form of soft murmurs for a short while, then stopped as the King began to speak again.

"You must simply string this ancient and powerful bow of Shiva."

As he finished, four attendants entered the room carrying what looked like a massive ornamental bow. My first thought was that no man could hope to string this.

Some quietly laughed after seeing the bow, imagining the condition to be a joke, but the king had no air of humor around him.

So one by one, we inspect the bow. I watch the other suitors walk around the thing, examining it from all angles, then failing to lift it. Try as they might, the bow would not be carried by a single man. As I inch closer I determine the bow to be longer than I am tall, at the very least. Engraved art wrapped around the wood and the bow, although chipped and dirty, carried an aura of divinity. It became clear that the King had not lied about the origin of this bow.

I do not try to lift the bow, as I know that even if I possessed the strength of the four men required to lift it, I do not have the strength of 4000 to string it. Looking back at the king, I think that he would not compromise on this condition, so I realize the only chance for me to win Sita's hand is through force. I take my leave from the palace of the king for now.

Author's Note: This is based off a small part of the Ramayana, where Rama and Lakshmana arrive in Mithila and falls in love with Sita. The king offers the same condition to every suitor: String the bow of Shiva, passed down for generations, and you can marry Sita. Rama does this easily but every previous suitor has failed and sent an army to Mithila to win by force. They all lost. I wanted to tell the story of a previous suitor and also give an idea of how big the gap of power is between humans and the gods through the bow.

Bibliography: The Ramayana by R. K. Narayan

Week 2 Story: The Jester's Account

Raft (Wikipedia)

Awoke I had, seeing naught but smoke
Billowing from the furnaces recently stoked.
Trying to clear it, I moved my hands
Only to find them tied up with bands.
The king enters, his voice commands:
"Bring him here, as he still stands!"
Slowly and steadily I approach,
He stares at me with eyes of reproach.
"Choose now which fate you will take,
To be imprisoned for life or burned at the stake."
His eyes glow with contempt.
I see his ruse and put forth my attempt.
"I'm fine with either," I say while frowning.
"But thank you for sparing me from drowning"
"Then drown you shall!", the king exclaims.
"Throw him to the ocean, and the sharks shall maim!"
I arrived at the beach, still in chains.
My attire weathered, covered with stains.
Without these locks, my hands could be free
I peek at a guard and find the key.
Stealthily and sneakily I hide this treasure
Within my mouth as extra measure.
The beach emerges as we climb the hill.
I can barely contain my cries of thrill.
We descend unto the glistening sand
As I ready the rusty key in hand.
Quickly and quietly I manipulate the metal
I loosen the locks; my nerves start to settle
I climb the raft which the guards lift
They set me free to sea adrift
Believing me to be helpless here
They leave the shore and disappear
When I see them leave I cry in joy
The foolish king fell for my ploy!
My arms free I gather some sticks
And place them in my hands betwixt.
Rowing restlessly 'round the reef
Wearing a grin of disbelief
I come to shore over yonder
I disembark and begin to wander.
I remember now why the king was mad.
I wouldn't stop rhyming.

Authors Note: I wanted something challenging so here it is. It turned out to take a long time as a result but it was still fun. The original story is about a frog who is captured by a king and he makes a bluff telling the king that he was afraid of water, so the king orders the turtle thrown into a river, to the turtle's benefit.

Bibliography: The Jataka Tales by Ellen C. Babbitt