Hey guys, so you may or may not remember the last time I did this (and AlphaProgDes I believe did this a long time back), but the basic idea is that you write a paragraph or two to add to what I write here. You can't do some sort of instant death/suicide anyone or do anything that would prematurely end the story. But beyond that, anything is game. Enjoy.

And so we begin:

It was cold. Far too cold for his tastes. No one knew where he was originally from, but evidently it was a place that was far warmer than Mu-Epsilon 7. Not that it mattered to him. There was a job to be done. A job that paid good money. Mu-Epsilon 7 was another backwater planet that had fallen into a civil war of sorts around a century ago. It was the sort of place that was ripe with profits for mercenaries like him. And so he lay prone in the deep snow on the hill, calmly observing Fort Dwarka through his binoculars. His contract involved exfiltrating one of the prisoners in the fortress of one of the local warlords. His employer didn't say who he was, but he was paying top credits for this job. The job was important enough to warrant hiring Delta. He was a legend of sorts in the mercenary business, but very little was known about him. People only knew him by his callsign, Delta.

Delta had been observing the fortress for some time. The fortress was situated on the side of a mountain. There weren't too many ways in and out of the fortress. The warlord had chosen a good place for his central HQ. But no place in the universe was completely secure. There was always a way in. And Delta had a plan.

"When you want it read --you must quip it!"

I like the idea and want to participate but can we start again? With a quip? Try to avoid exposition as much as possible.

It was cold. Far too cold for his tastes. No one knew where he was originally from, but evidently it was a place that was far warmer than Mu-Epsilon 7. Not that it mattered to him. There was a job to be done. A job that paid good money. Mu-Epsilon 7 was another backwater planet that had fallen into a civil war of sorts around a century ago. It was the sort of place that was ripe with profits for mercenaries like him. And so he lay prone in the deep snow on the hill, calmly observing Fort Dwarka through his binoculars. His contract involved exfiltrating one of the prisoners in the fortress of one of the local warlords. His employer didn't say who he was, but he was paying top credits for this job. The job was important enough to warrant hiring Delta. He was a legend of sorts in the mercenary business, but very little was known about him. People only knew him by his callsign, Delta.

Delta had been observing the fortress for some time. The fortress was situated on the side of a mountain. There weren't too many ways in and out of the fortress. The warlord had chosen a good place for his central HQ. But no place in the universe was completely secure. There was always a way in. And Delta had a plan.

"When you want it read --you must quip it!"

His name was Quip. E. Quip. And snark was the name of his game.

"Last name, Matum"

"First name, Alta"

*Chck*Chck*

"Let's negotiate."

Devoted peace negotiator, Alta Matum, is in for the action-thriller of his life, when a routine peace deal suspiciously fails, he vows to get to the bottom of it, which will lead him right to the top. Someone should have told him to bring a gyroscope to work today.

It was hot, and Alta Matum's balls were sweating more than... something sweaty --his meat 'balls', that is. He had left them in the oven for too long and they risked becoming dry.

When suddenly, the phone rang.

(Not in story): uhm, I'm somewhat confused. What exactly is going on?

(Not in story): uhm, I'm somewhat confused. What exactly is going on?

You have a good writing thread idea there, just wished it could start a bit lighter; less exposition and more humor.

If you don't like it, I understand.