Datalogs - Short Story Competition


We haven’t had a community event in a while have we?

So, I present to you the very first Neptune’s Pride 2 - Short Story Competition.


  1. The theme of the competition is Neptune’s Pride 2 Triton. Your entry must reflect that in some way.

  2. Entries must be posted in this thread to be considered.

  3. There is no word limit, but the suggestion is 250 words or less.

  4. Entries must arrive before the closing date of Midday (GMT) on Friday 13th June 2014.

  5. Only one entry per person please.

  6. Judges can submit entries, but they will be ineligible for prizes.

PRIZES and Judging

With the blessing of our glorious leader Jay, we are able to offer a fancy Wordsmith Badge to the winner of this competition. With this you can show off your stunning literary skills to all your galactic enemies.

The winner will be decided by a judging panel of 2-3 Volunteers including myself. Please comment below if you’d like to be on the judging panel.

Good luck to all of those taking part. I can’t wait to read your glorious submissions.


I am definitely interested! Should we post them or should we message them?


Please post them here. You can edit and change them all the way up to the deadline.


A [STANDARD] game in the career of a [NORMAL] gamer.

Hey neighbor lets settle borders I’m cool you cool nice we’re both cool hey lets trade tech what do you want yeah banking is useless later but we need some now alright good working with you Hey neighbor lets make a border treaty that’s totally unfair ok fine we can’t afford to fight how about a non aggression pact good done deal Yo neighbor of my neighbor that guy is a jerk lets ally against him attack after new weapons ok great Tech neighbor why did you stiff me oh you ran out of sending money ok I send you some no excuses ok we’re still cool Hey neighbor jerk you just got invaded hah eat my fleets you douche Anti-Jerk Ally members why aren’t you guys helping me invade him all his fleets are on my side Tech neighbor you just stiffed me again I need those weapons Backstabber dammit to space hell Neighbor of my neighbor I really need help yeah you are in some doo doo here’s all my money just take tech jerk’s science capital Yes run away thank you ally you are now my new neighbor Alright lets fight together against your enemy What fleet oh that one I sent at your capital well there can only be one Good Game everyone



By the way, 250 words is not a lot to work with, possibly two paragraphs. I understand the need for a limit though, and decided to have some fun with it. This might be a series, by the way.


This is the longest sentence I have ever read.


Now we are cooking! I always like stream of conciousness stuff like this. You’re definitely winning so far.

ALSO I’m still searching for a second judge so anyone help me decide on winners give me a shout,


I’ll post in an entry soon, but I’d help be a judge if you had no other offers, @Rosslessness.


Thanks Satan, but post, I’m sure I can find someone not participating to judge.

                          The Voyage

As our rocket lifted toward the star system for our colonization mission in sector eight, she began to speak to me for the first time in a long time. “I’m sorry I’ve been so closed off. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” I sat down and settled myself against the internal combustion modulator and looked into her vibrant blue eyes, and she hesitated and began to cry.

“I’m a cat trapped inside of a human’s body,” she finally said.

I tried to act surprised, but the truth was I’d always suspected she was a cat trapped inside of a human’s body. “That’s okay,” I replied.

"You’re not upset are you?’

“Of course not,” I said, as I slowly backed toward the escape pod, “You’re a beautiful cat trapped inside a human’s body.” No mission was worth this.


I’d really like if there was a twist where everyone actually was a cat in this one.


I’m a judge, so this is ineligible. But here’s my entry anyway…

Carrier 2

Carrier Two was christened Alphair One in honour of its home world, the first colony of the Grekan Conglomerate. As it lumbered through space on its maiden voyage, the command crew worked quietly.

Grok refuelled and rechecked the ordinance of the ten automated attack drones housed in the primary launch bay. Even as they travelled he sought new ways to improve the weaponry, overhauling the guidance systems and supercharging the thrusters, his forked tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

On the command deck Natu scanned the crystal set for any information on the strange yellow empire. She wanted to find an indication of their true intentions, some tiny insight into their thoughts. She searched frantically for anything that could give her race the tactical edge, ignoring the sweat dripping from her brow.

Captain Koul sat in his cabin and drank. Their destination, the planet Foss, lay well outside the Conglomerate’s scanning range. It was a race against the yellow threat and whoever reached planet side first would undoubtedly decimate the other path finding fleet hurtling blindly through the void.

The prize for second place was obliteration; that was obvious. What Koul couldn’t deal with was the fact that his fate had been decided 14 hours ago when he had received his orders to mobilise.

Touching a hand to his face, he found that he was crying.

There was nothing he could do to save Alphair One. He could only wait…


Remember cats and kittens, you only have until this Friday to submit your entry.

Look at the entries here. Surely you can do better? :slight_smile:



With quivering tentacles Kartoul was awaiting the results of the cross-galactic computational network. The interstellar science team he headed had worked feverishly in formulating those algorithms and gathering the needed data to work from. The test runs had always been promising, but intense shifts of going through the code for bugs and frustrating analysis and re-analysis of the data had been needed.
Now they were all quite sure, that this was it! Just one more hour, and the network would spit out the solution and enable them to calibrate all planetary sensors to a longer range.
Oh, the benefits! His race would be so much safer with their increased awareness. They would be able to colonize new systems. One would surely be named “Kartoul”, in honour of this, his greatest achievement. This would certainly be the peak of his laborious studies. The queen mother herself would…
High Priority Message
From: Queen Mother
To: Engineering Corps, Science Corps, Diplomatic Corps
DiplCorps, congratulations on your negotiation strategies, keep up the good work.
EngCorps, configure all scanners to longer ranges, according to the specs DiplCorps has acquired!
SciCorps, scrap current project and propose a new one!


The Truth

Legend tells a story of my father. A tale bound by gorgeous sin, devastating tragedy and planet Alpha Mirkham - Earth. A novel executed by the victors.
Us Underbeings struggled through many seasons, through many ages, and we were never recognised for our achievements. The volcano of Pompeii, the bombs of Hiroshima, none were manmade, rather devised by us to cause their demise. They survived. The Bastards! The race of the Human Being survived. Then Father rose.

“From: The Leader Beelzebub
Content: Earth has withstood, outlasted and re-cultivated way too many times, so I’ve made an executive decision in which they WILL fall. Nothing is certain in war except death, so mine will come with no shock, just awe.
I leave all un-worldly possessions and the throne to Satan II, may my son reign forevermore.
I appreciate you’re services, may you all rot continuously and horribly.
With Hate,

That was the last we ever heard from our father. He locked himself in the eternal furnace, and with the CCTV fixed on his being, he threw himself into the infernal oblivion, igniting everything that he had built, but with it the human flame dwindled. The alarms sounded just in time for us to gather our belongings and venture out into the open galaxy, finding a new way to conquer the universe without anywhere to start. Earth ruptured at the seams, imploding in on my father. The Father. The Leader. Forever we shall fight for his memory. Reign Forevermore, he said.


The Great Galactic Procreation

The night sky was full of countless pinpoints of light. Each shade representing a different life form to the Roygeebiv empire, yet regardless of color they all had to be removed. A strange medical crisis known only as “Proliferate” had left the empire unable to regulate its population growth. The only solution was to expand, and that meant destroying all those who hindered the great galactic procreation.

Initial research and industry created the foothold, but what followed was heartless and brutal. Lying, backstabbing, and bluffing became the way of life for many a cycle. Eventually the other empires hunkered down, relying on machines to protect their way of life, until at last there was one active opponent left. Borders were drawn, and ships stockpiled, but the endless reproduction soon exceeded the capacity of the currently held planets. Economy went into decline, and before it could recover the last empire unleashed the dogs of war, crushing our overburdened defenses and nearly wiping our culture from existence. A lone carrier survived the attack, only to crash land on a barren world.

Fortunately the ship computers survived the crash so we could rebuild. We will stay quiet, observe the war against the machines, and when the time is right, we will strike back!


A little over 24 hours to go. Get typing love bunnies!


“Attention! Attention! We will exit hyperspace near Alwaid in one hour. Stow all non-essential equipment in their designated storage locations and begin systems checks and weapon system diagnostic routines.”

“Vindicator II,” flagship of the Neo Sapien Dominion, has been in hyperspace for over thirty hours while making the long jump from Al Geidi to Alwaid. Outside there is only blackness, the complete and total isolation caused by hyperspace travel.

“Commander, we are exiting hyperspace now!.”

“Thank you for the status updates, Lieutenant. What’s the situation?”

“The sensor arrays are gathering local telemetry now. We also have also received a backlog of messages from command. Do you want me to read them?”

“Not now! We can sort through them later once the Ignadiums have been reduced to molten slag… Just get me that telemetry, lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir. By the way, Commander.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t you feel bad, I mean, about betraying our allies?”

“The Ignadiums were never anything more than convenient cannon fodder against the Huldrakal. They have served their purpose and can be disposed of.”

“I understand… The data has been collected. I am forwarding it to the main viewer now.”

“Very good, let’s see what those Ignadium scum have been up to.” Commander Kai’s confident expression fades to one of confusion as he surveys the data projected before him.

“Lieutenant, is that correct? I don’t see any Ignadium ships, but there is a large number or Huldrakal ships. What are the Huldrakal doing here, and why are there so many?! The Ignadiums said that most of the Huldrakal ships were far away! Perhaps there a malfunction with the sensor array.”

“There doesn’t appear to be a mistake, at least not with the sensor array… Shall I send someone from engineering to check it out? …Commander?”

“No. Just get me those messages from Command.”

“They are coming in now sir. There are three priority messages, starting with the earliest.”


Kartha City is burning…(static)… Ignadium ships everywhere. There is no…(static)

We. Will. Give. Them. Hell. For. This.

“That explains why they haven’t sent us the specs for the new weapon upgrades.”



Competition is now closed

Thanks for all the entries. I’ll tabulate the scores, double check them with Jay and announce winners at the beginning of the week.



Completed list of entries.

A [STANDARD] game in the career of a [NORMAL] gamer.

The Voyage

Carrier 2 Ineligable as Judges entry


The Truth

The Great Galactic Procreation