Macbeth Act 1 Scene 3 (my version)
Created | Updated May 1, 2005
Ok, this is an older piece of writing of mine. I wrote it for a school assignment. It's not a wonderful piece, but being a newbie here i thought it was important to simply get something out there. The task was to re write a section of macbeth either from a character's first person perspective or rewrite it in a different (scene?) anyway, inspired by the book Illium (i can't remember the author) i decided to try my hand at sci-fi. If this isn't where i'm supposed to put stuff for the creative writing i'm sorry...
(covers roughly line 40-65, I didn’t think lines 1-39 were necessary).
Slowly the screens returned to normal. All that could be seen were the three remaining destroyers manoeuvring for optimum rip position. Any one on the bridge could have accessed the data through their NCA neural implants, but the imperial navy had long ago found it practical to add display screens for the entire bridge to see.
Macbeth could see a message coming towards him across the web, a pulse of light making its way across a complicated mesh of silver wire. Each strand represented a link in the massive web of communications, from transmitter to receiver to transmitter and so forth down the line. All of this was on the inside of Macbeth’s eyelids.
“You stay back and lick your wounds,” read Banqou’s message, “I’ll make sure our guests don’t over overstay their welcome.”
“I understand,” replied Macbeth, “We’ll bring up the rear, we’re in no position to do anything fancy though.”
On the few remaining port side sensors of the ‘Lady Victoria’ Macbeth could see Banquo’s ship, the ‘Bella’ engage its fusion drives and accelerate after the retreating ‘Long Boats’. Macbeth spent a few moments to collect his thoughts before asking for battle reports. Things were progressing well. The ‘Long Boats’ were retreating on nearly all fronts, leaving very little for the ‘Lady Victoria’ to do apart from securing the sector. Not that she could have handled much else. There was the usual wear and tear of battle all over the ship, though the portside sensors were all shot through. Macbeth had led the ‘Lady Victoria’ into a close engagement with an enemy ship. He had over powered the ‘Long Boat’ with ease, but the ship’s final dying explosion had left its mark.
Macbeth was assessing these reports when he noticed three ships making their silent way across his orbital path. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen. They weren’t like the ‘Long Boats’ he had just dispatched. They looked crude and they left massive particle trails across the field. So why hadn’t the sensors picked them up until now? A quick revision revealed that they had been there for a long time now. They’d ripped in half an hour ago and had slowly pursued an orbital path around the planet. They’d been clear for all to see, and yet none of the ships’ sensors had decided it was appropriate to bring to his attention. Macbeth marvelled at this piece of stealth as he opened a private channel with Banquo.
“But what are they?” asked Banquo, “Those ships are of no make I’ve ever seen. They’re so rickety that a good stone could break them apart.”
He changed to open frequencies to address the three un-named ships, “Identify yourselves! You are in restricted space. Identify yourselves immediately!”
No response came from any of the black ships. They merely continued on their orbit around the planet. Their large oblong bodies firing small rockets to continually adjust their course.
“Speak now!” demanded Macbeth, “Or we will be forced to commandeer your ships. Who are you?”
Suddenly the three ships sparked into life they all began broadcasting across all frequencies overlapping each other and leaving no manner of identifying which voice belonged to which ship.
“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Lord of Glamis!”
“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Lord of Cawdor!”
“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, that that shalt be king hereafter.”
There was silence for several stunned seconds before Banquo’s voice broke in over all frequencies.
“You have still not identified yourselves! You slander the local space with such predictions for my friend Macbeth and leave us with no clue as to whom you are to make such claims. Who are you to seek out my friend? And why Macbeth?”
Macbeth himself was too stunned to say anything. It was ridiculous to listen to such predictions. He had no hope of ever becoming Lord of Cawdor, let alone Emporer. And Banquo was right, why him?
(covers roughly line 40-65, I didn’t think lines 1-39 were necessary).
Slowly the screens returned to normal. All that could be seen were the three remaining destroyers manoeuvring for optimum rip position. Any one on the bridge could have accessed the data through their NCA neural implants, but the imperial navy had long ago found it practical to add display screens for the entire bridge to see.
Macbeth could see a message coming towards him across the web, a pulse of light making its way across a complicated mesh of silver wire. Each strand represented a link in the massive web of communications, from transmitter to receiver to transmitter and so forth down the line. All of this was on the inside of Macbeth’s eyelids.
“You stay back and lick your wounds,” read Banqou’s message, “I’ll make sure our guests don’t over overstay their welcome.”
“I understand,” replied Macbeth, “We’ll bring up the rear, we’re in no position to do anything fancy though.”
On the few remaining port side sensors of the ‘Lady Victoria’ Macbeth could see Banquo’s ship, the ‘Bella’ engage its fusion drives and accelerate after the retreating ‘Long Boats’. Macbeth spent a few moments to collect his thoughts before asking for battle reports. Things were progressing well. The ‘Long Boats’ were retreating on nearly all fronts, leaving very little for the ‘Lady Victoria’ to do apart from securing the sector. Not that she could have handled much else. There was the usual wear and tear of battle all over the ship, though the portside sensors were all shot through. Macbeth had led the ‘Lady Victoria’ into a close engagement with an enemy ship. He had over powered the ‘Long Boat’ with ease, but the ship’s final dying explosion had left its mark.
Macbeth was assessing these reports when he noticed three ships making their silent way across his orbital path. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen. They weren’t like the ‘Long Boats’ he had just dispatched. They looked crude and they left massive particle trails across the field. So why hadn’t the sensors picked them up until now? A quick revision revealed that they had been there for a long time now. They’d ripped in half an hour ago and had slowly pursued an orbital path around the planet. They’d been clear for all to see, and yet none of the ships’ sensors had decided it was appropriate to bring to his attention. Macbeth marvelled at this piece of stealth as he opened a private channel with Banquo.
“But what are they?” asked Banquo, “Those ships are of no make I’ve ever seen. They’re so rickety that a good stone could break them apart.”
He changed to open frequencies to address the three un-named ships, “Identify yourselves! You are in restricted space. Identify yourselves immediately!”
No response came from any of the black ships. They merely continued on their orbit around the planet. Their large oblong bodies firing small rockets to continually adjust their course.
“Speak now!” demanded Macbeth, “Or we will be forced to commandeer your ships. Who are you?”
Suddenly the three ships sparked into life they all began broadcasting across all frequencies overlapping each other and leaving no manner of identifying which voice belonged to which ship.
“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Lord of Glamis!”
“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Lord of Cawdor!”
“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, that that shalt be king hereafter.”
There was silence for several stunned seconds before Banquo’s voice broke in over all frequencies.
“You have still not identified yourselves! You slander the local space with such predictions for my friend Macbeth and leave us with no clue as to whom you are to make such claims. Who are you to seek out my friend? And why Macbeth?”
Macbeth himself was too stunned to say anything. It was ridiculous to listen to such predictions. He had no hope of ever becoming Lord of Cawdor, let alone Emporer. And Banquo was right, why him?
