[13] "Understood." The Commander and his crew finish their last preparations, and you hear his voice and the voice of the other teams all checking off inside your helmet. The hovercrafts slowly lift-off of their landing pads, idling in the sky while you prepare. It takes you a moment to make your wings, your willpower lashing, and coiling uncontrollably.
They flare forth, and you rise into the sky. The ships form up in formation behind you, a 'v' spread out over many [meters]. Close enough to intervene but far enough away to prevent a single burst of gunfire from destroying all of them.
The sky is cold as you rise higher, and you're glad for the insulation in the underlay. At a specific elevation, the mask begins to pump more oxygen for your greedy lungs. The city falls away below you, gleaming and beautiful, busy with foot traffic.
[19] You extend your wings out as far as you can, showing off for the people, no doubt below. You can feel eyes upon you, and a smile, unbidden, comes to your lips. You let the relax into a more comfortable position as soon as you leave the city behind. The earth flows below you, giving way to your speed and distance. Farmlands lie fallow for the winter, even if the sun feels warm on the black of your armor.
The hour to the line is uneventful, but the change is rapid—a sickly brown and gray smear across the landscape, streaked with fires. You can see the lines of las-gun pulses impacting gray masses that throw themselves at the strength of man. Artillery fire booms through the gentle hills, echoing up to you.
[Recording artillery positions and priority targets for future use. Map compiling.]
You let yourself drift back, informing another ship to take the lead while you fly above the scout ship.
["We're capturing images now, Mother Alphira. We have more than enough film for this."] The lead pilot reports over the radio.
["Good. Keep in mind you are the VIP in this operation. If you guys fail, everything will have been for nothing."]
["Yes, Mother Alphira."]
[10 vs. 5+3] Nothing approaches you, and no gunfire rakes the skies. You are still undetected.
The earth below has many strange gray structures, set at regular angles across the ground. They twist into the sky like massive trees, giving the occasional twitch. Dots of gray surround them, and you note a few slumbering colossi resting at their base. Whenever you fly over one, brief static hisses through your helmet. Lucille documents it all with devotion.
[11 vs. 16+3] [Five incoming aircraft, six o'clock.] Lucille informs both you and the others, you glance back over your wings -- las-fire begins to rake through the formation. The gunships move in close, shielding the Scout.
[19 vs. 12] The autocannons give a retort, and one of the plague craft goes down in a ball of flames.
[20 vs. 18] The plague hovercrafts increase their speed, tentacles twisting out to try and strike at the Crusader crafts. The autocannons whir, exploding shells ripping two more of the twisted machines from the sky.
["Down three."] Comes the Crusader's report.
[5 vs. 3] ["Down four."] Comes another ship, and another enemy explodes into a ball of flames, spiraling towards the ground below.
[3 vs. 9][15] Those tentacles on the ships latch on to another, ripping apart the engines. Number five has been caught, and las-fire from the sides of the plague ship rip begins to tear it apart-- ["Hail Alphira!"] The explosion sends shockwaves, even as you twist to try and render aid. The two crafts both go down in a ball of fire.
Light bursts of las-fire begin to pepper the sky, but many dissipate before they can do anything more than scorch the sides of the ship.
["They know we're here. We're about thirty minutes out from the coast."]
You look down, and the Plague has developed much of the land here, more and more strange structures, some of them belching smoke, some leaking a dark gray miasma that burns into the soil There is no grass here, no greenery, just lakes and ponds of red liquid. Small dots you think might be massive insects drift between basins in significant groups.
[11]
Those are algae farms. On more civilized worlds, those are the primary method of feeding the populace. With the right strain, you can produce large amounts of protein from sunlight and water alone.The thirty minutes pass--
And the coast spreads out in front of you. A massive sea stretches away towards a western continent, across a sea of murky red water. Towering cliffs of shattered red rock drop into the ocean. Upon it, large, gray vessels resembling squids with great flat decks marking their flesh drift between the distant shores. Long legs propel them forwards, scouring up red murk from the depths as they drift from one root-like appendage to another that jut out of the ocean.
But what is truly disconcerting is the 'factories' on the coast, with great organs pulling water from the ocean. Steam billows up, and deep below, no doubt, are many, many fusion reactors cobbled in between great blue-gray bones and pulsing gray organs. Such 'factories' consume the entire coast, no doubt producing the endless horde of these abominations.
[2] You see it just as the hovercrafts begin to turn around -- it lies on the horizon, a dark shape in the sky surrounded by a fleet of infected hover ships. It moves slowly, more like a dirigible than a jet, massive tentacles drooping down from its sides, pulsing and twitching with accumulated electricity. Las-cannons shiver and shudder, flicking here and there, jutting from armor of blue-gray plates, protecting the hull of the vessel.
It's the size of a small void-ship, and it drifts closer and closer, becoming larger and larger.
[19] [Levithan class infected. Predicted target based on trajectory and strategic importance: The Holy City. If it stops to refuel, it will be there by midnight, based on speed.]
You are Pheobe Gainer AKA Alphira
Local Time: [1545] 11/19/2011
Personal Time: 5 months
Empyreal Time: NO NETWORK CONNECTION.
You feel comfortable in your second skin.
The world feels a little less real to you.
Cohesion: 80%
You are peckish.
On Body: Mark 15 Battle Armor (Active, Incompatible:Override)
On Body, Beneath Armor:A black and gold armored gambeson.
On Shoulders, :A blood red half-cloak
Strapped across your chest: A worn shield belt. 1/5
Beneath your gorget: A blood red kevlar mesh.
Strapped to your shoulder: A heavy assault SMG painted gold and black.500/500
In a sheath:An inscribed bone-handled, combat long knife.
In a holster: A dull, gray las-gun pistol.250/250
In a holster:An archeotech Cutter Hilt.490/500
Ankle: A knife sheath with a well-made bone-handled stiletto within. (hidden)
In belt: 5 las-gun rifle magazines.
In satchel: Fifteen nutrient cubes, three auto-syringes of modified 'Ballistic', five auto-syringes of 'modified' sleeping medicine, five auto-syringes of 'modified' sedatives.
Overload: Trained
Bird of Sol's Reign: Qualified
Conquerer's Aura: Initiated
Inferno : Adept
Healing Factor: Apprentice
-
Endurance Boost: Amateur.
-
Strength Boost: Amateur.
Matter Manipulation:Silicon::Competent
Skill:
Charisma: Apprentice
Skill:
Attrition Warfare: Apprentice
Skill:
Marksmanship: Proficient
[29.38 credits] in local currency.
Michael's Public House: [+.25 credits per month]
[Angel] of The Holy City State of SEED
--High Influence within its borders
--Full command of all military resources
--Assigned a personal team of researchers, medical officers, and trainers.
Grandmother(adopted), Handler: Mother Nicole Gainer
--Contactable in person.
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
--Current lawful ruler of Steelworks 9 Region (Crusader Supported)
Organization: The Thornton Family
--Contactable through Emma
--High Influence within Steelworks 9 Region
--Allied with Nicole Gainer, you
*Researching: Radio towers*
Organization: Personal Guard
--A complement of fifty-six guards, highly trained, heavily armed. Each carries a las-rifle, a las-pistol, and a personal knife. They wear Heavily Armored Crusader vests, leggings, boots and face obscuring kevlar face masks.
--Lead by Jennifer Shatterly
--??/56 Loyal, Fanatic
--??/56 Uncertain
--4/56 Defiant
--McGee Foster (Loyal)
--James Foster (Loyal)
--Erica Hail (Loyal)
--Johnathan Shellton (Loyal)
--Eric Armstrong (Loyal)
--Quincy Black (Loyal)
Organization: Thornton Mercenaries
--A complement of hulking Thornton soldiers turned into cybernetically augmented heavy-duty infantry. Equipped with fusion reactor based las-gun assault rifles, Inferno Shotguns, super thick armor, and technicians standing by. They are also equipped with inter and intra-squad radio communicators.
--Lead by William Thornton
--56/56
*Ready for extended operations*
Servant, ? ? ?: Iyal
--A mysterious Outlander woman, branded by SEED as a debt-slave. She wishes to serve you, for a better life after an attempted mugging.
*Currently assassinating key political opponents.*
Ally, Subservient: The Pontifex
--Cowed
--Church leader for the Scholars of the Holy SEED city-state.
--High Influence within its borders
--Incredibly High Influence with Zealots
--Minor feud with Crusaders
Ally, Subservient: William Thornton
Leader of the Thornton Family of Businessmen.
--Contactable in person
--High influence within the Thornton Mercenaries
--High influence within The Thornton Family
--Feared within Steelworks 9 Region
*Coordinating Thornton Family Assets*
Personal Scientist, Ally: Silas Thornton
--Contactable in person
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Contact, Military Trainer Coordinator: Tyler Hop (Cordial)
Lover, Consort: Emma Thornton
--High influence within The Thornton Family
*Currently compiling a list of SEED resources*
Pet, Threat: Mitch, the Barker
A stubby furred, stubby faced hellion of a canine that will possibly mutate in the future.
-8/50 Obedience
-?/50 Affection
-1/50 Respect
Friends(?) (Lost Contact):
-Jesse Hardhouse
-Amanda Silversmith
-John Frost
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 259821 times)