...Okay....
[-10- / -10-]
Cephie is laying against you again, scrolling through her tablet with a slight redness to her eyes that was not there before. A ghost of a smile twitches across her lips from time to time. You squeeze her shoulder and she turns her attention back to you. Around an hour of the five-hour flight has passed, by your internal chronometer, and you feel its a good time to ask the questions queueing within your mind. She swipes across her datapad, shutting down the screen as you begin asking them.
"[Can I send out a small bit of Dust or Essence, away from my body, to perform a task?]"
"[Yes and no. Essence evaporates. It's unstable. A constant mote of change constrained by our bodies.]" She puts a hand near your face, her glove drawing back to reveal a thin patchwork of scars. "[Blood works well until it dries.]" Slowly, the armor draws back more, as does her flesh, revealing square notches of flesh missing from places on her arm. "[Flesh can hold it longer. The best bet is to keep your flesh alive somehow. A nutrient vial with an oxygenator, or something similar. Our flesh, if properly fed and maintained lasts a long time away from our bodies. You can route through it too, to extend the range of your willpower, if you can remember the nanite as a reference point.]" She is, of course, referring to the numerical codes of each cell, each part of your body. Her bared finger drifts down the front of your armor
You raise a brow.
"[Right. Sorry.]"
"[Is it possible for me to change my appearance, like you?]"
"[Not to the same level of control, and it will revert to your natural state pretty quickly. Try-- focus on the cells in your hair, each one. Consider how the light reflects off of the chemicals that make it up.]" She pulls up a small diagram, a quick reference, "[I used this before I memorized it.]"
You focus, shutting your eyes after a glance, trying not to pay attention to the young woman laying on you so closely.
[16][19][18][7][8[12][80]
Cephie giggles end up breaking your concentration. You were trying for a dull brown, the complex expression of melanin and keratin. Instead--Instead-- your head pounds, and you pitch forward.
No.Cephie starts up, her hands finding your shoulders to provide comfort. Her awkward giggles turning into a voice of concern. "Pheobe. Pheobe-- [what's the matter-- are you okay?]"
Nausea and pain pass and you dare to open your eyes. A strand of your long hair is draped over your shoulder -- dark, neon blue speckled with red, gold, and black. "I'm...I'm fine."
"[Was that the color...you were going for?]"
You shake your head.
[4 vs 20]
"[Tell your Line to fuck itself six ways to the End of the Universe. It's your body -- you can do what you want with it.]" Cephie is angry, her voice rising as her grip tightens on your shoulder. Low Empyrean is the best language for curses. Alone, there are thirty different words for 'damn'. Fifty for 'fuck'. You shake your head again, shutting your eyes as they throb.
Cephie drops it, as you settle back in your chair, breathing hard. With a bit of cloth from your suit, you rub at the blood that trickles from your eyes. "[How...how does Magnus deal with Plague planets?]"
She settles back into a comfortable position before answering, taking her time. "[There won't be a Plague when he finishes. But there might not even be a Biosphere. Your people will survive. I hope. But please, understand...Magnus isn't here for the plague. He's not here for this backwater rim world. He's here for you. To fight you. The Endless Nobility...they're inhuman. They don't care about one planet, or two, or even a dozen. What's one ant colony to the boot that treads upon it?]"
...
The rest of the ride passes uneventfully and quietly. You amuse yourself by reading over Cephie's shoulder, among...other things within reason, much to her amusement. Nicole yawns herself awake overdramatically as the craft touches down and the ramp opens on to a field of green grass at night. Lights on the rear of the craft flicker on, letting you see further into the darkness. You realize that this is a patch of greenery in a field of 'salts'. Cephie, without a word, walks to the salt flat as you and the Null set up the tents, the water purifier, and a cooking pot. The Null returns with [beast of burden] chips, lighting them ablaze to boil water and make the nutrient paste for the lot of you.
You end up walking to where Cephie stands, finding her kneeling. She lets grains of salt drift out of her fingers, even going so far as to pick one up and put it in her mouth.
"[What's got you so interested, out here?]"
"[Oh, I didn't want to help.]" Cephie admits, cheerfully, before her attention turns back to the salt. "[Do you know what this is? I had suspicions...]"
"[Salt?]"
"[These are salts of phosphorous.]"
"[Uh...okay.]"
"[I don't think you understand,] Pheobe." Cephie turns her attention to you, a gleam in her eye, "[Phosphorous limits growth. It is -the- limiter of growth for humanity everywhere. Crops need it. People need it. Agworlds need it...to have it just lying around like this is amazing. If it got diluted down, this planet could be one of the most fertile planets in this area. An underdeveloped world like this could become a bread-basket. Then an industrial complex, then a center of commerce and industry in short order if you exploited the hells out of this.]"
"[...uh...yeah. I guess that's something to think about.]"
Cephie sighs, rising to her feet and approaching you. With a playful smile, she rubs the salt from her hand unto the front of your uniform before passing you by. "[You're really cute, y'know?]"
You don't think that was a compliment.
The next morning, you set out to the north as the hovercraft lifts off, towards a crater rim in the distance. The air is cold, but you still sweat with the exertion. By the end of the forced march, you're carrying Nicole on your shoulders, along with half of the packs. Cephie carries the exhausted Null and the other half of the gear. The climb is even worse. You and Cephie have to take a break in the middle of it, as the two of you drag yourself over the rough terrain.
"[Ever the dutiful grandchild, you are, Pheonix.]" Cephie quips, during the break between chugs of water, "[You know what I hate about your type of Line -- you don't get thirsty. You can never understand how much water I need to survive -- and how annoying it is to drink this bland,
perfectly purified [horse]-piss.]"
"I don't know what tongue you're speaking, but I understanding whining when I hear it. How about you settle down there, you oily punk." Nicole snaps.
Cephie only response is a dark glare. "I could kill you with a thought, y'know."
"Yes, but how would that affect the chance of my grandchild continuing to deal with your scrawny self?"
Cephie doesn't respond.
You crest the crater lip and it's a night and day difference. In the massive crater is a lake of ice-covered green water, fed by trickling springs that cascade down the edges of the rim. Between you and the lake is a gentle slope of hardy conifers, a mottled patchwork of greens and gold that hold together the sandy, moist soil. Lining the banks are broken stalks of golden grain, withered by the cold weather, but flourishing in the marshy soil. You pause, staring out over the lake, taken in by its beauty.
But in the center of the lake, a massive, spindly fin of weathered black metal juts from the water. A single light blinks across the ice cap which turns to slush and water around the metal. For nearly a hundred years, you've plied the Void betwixt worlds. It would be impossible for you not to recognize what that is --
"Is...is that a Void Ship comms array?" Cephie blurts out.
"Is that what that is? That'd explain the huge structure."
You setting up camp in a dry patch is a blur. Cephie even helps this time -- and the work is completed in less than an hour. Nicole guides you to a circle of brickwork that lies in the water, at the end of an overgrown path. A bronze bowl sits in the center, filled with ash, and all around it are stalks of grain. Trinkets of ceramic-- and even the remains of a broken las-gun. Rotten flowers are strung between poles on cords of steel, and fine oil-burning lanterns hang in the dead center.
"Outlanders view this place as holy. Me and my lads investigated it about fifty years ago when I was young enough to survive the Outland winters. We told SEED there was nothing here. About twenty years ago, I broke in with William Senior and his wife..." Nicole grins, "Did you like the Warmachines, Pheobe? This is the origin. Probably of the Families, too."
Cephie grins along, pulling out a spare pouch and tossing it to you. "What's our plan, Pheobe?"
You are Pheobe Gainer and Pheonix
Local Time: [1200] 1/2/2011
Personal Time: 7 months
Empyreal Time: NO NETWORK CONNECTION.
You are missing your left arm.
Laterally, across your chest, is an ugly scar.
Your hair is a darker neon blue, speckled with gold, black and reds.
Cohesion: 90%
You are satiated.
On Body: Mark 15 Battle Armor (Active, Incompatible:Override)
On Body, Beneath Armor:A black and gold armored gambeson.
In sheath: A Crusader Cutter Hilt[250/250]
Over Shoulder:A dull, gray las-gun rifle, 'sawn down'.250/250
In belt: 1 cutter battery, 5 las-gun rifle mags
In waterproof pouch: Five 'Nano-Feast' rations.
Max Willpower Linear Distance: [20 meters]
Max Willpower Diameter: [20 meters]Overload: Trained
Bird of Sol's Reign: Great
Conquerer's Aura: Initiated
-
Voice of the Queen: Initiated
Inferno : Great
-
Slayer's Blade : Initiated
-
Controlled Fusion Reaction : Initiated
-
Uncontrolled Fusion Reaction : Initiated
Healing Factor: Initiated
-
Endurance Boost: Amateur.
-
Strength Boost: Amateur.
Matter Manipulation: Silicon:: Experienced
-
Silicon Sunder: Novice
Skill:
Charisma: Apprentice
Skill:
Attrition Warfare: Apprentice
Skill:
Marksmanship: Proficient
Cephie Lavoisier's Verbal Oath Grandmother(adopted): Mother Nicole Gainer
--Contactable in Person
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
Ruled Nation: Pheonix's Holy Fortress-State
A dominant power on McCreary's Planet, despite its recent foundation. Currently pursuing a policy of aggressive reclamation.
-Ruled by a council, headed by yourself.
-Theocratic Dictatorship
-The citizens revere you as their new God.
Organization: The Children of SEED
Ten individuals, with the minds of automata and the bodies of men and women. Their very presence grates on your nerves.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
Organization: The Thornton Family
--Contactable through Emma, radio.
--High Influence within Steelworks 9 Region
--Subservient to you
Organization: Thornton Warmachine
--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
Servant, Friend?: Cephie Laviosier.
--An Ascended under contract to you for the next twelve years. She manipulates carbon and carbon-based structures.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
Ally, Subservient: William Thornton
Leader of the Thornton Family of Businessmen.
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within the Thornton Mercenaries
--High influence within The Thornton Family
--Feared within Steelworks 9 Region
Personal Scientist, Ally: Silas Thornton
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Consort, Annoying Oracle: Emma Thornton
--Contactable in person, or by radio.
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Pet, Threat: Mitch, the Barker
A bristly furred, stubby faced hellion of a canine that will possibly mutate in the future. His fur is a rusty red, mixed with brownish gray. His eyes are starting to be tinged with bright, electric blue.
-10/50 Obedience
-?/50 Affection
-5/50 Respect
Pheonix's Fortress-State (McCreary's Planet)
Theocractic Dictactorship
Capital: Fortress City of Stormmont
Population: 4*10^6
Military: One (1) Corps of Active Duty Hover Craft Deployed Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Hardened){Stationed in Stormmont, Fortified}
Three (3) Corps of Active Duty Defense Militias (Baseline, Mark .5){Stationed in SEED Holy Land, Fortified}
One (1) Corps of Active Duty Hover Craft Deployed Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Hardened){Stationed in SEED Holy Land, Fortified}
One (1) Corps Reserve Crusaders (Baseline, Mark 1, Underequipped){Stationed in Stormmont, Fortified}
One (1) Company of Thornton Warmachines (Baseline, Mark ~1, Hardened Veterans){Currently Fighting in Steelworks Number Nine}
Commodities of Note: Nutrient Bar Rations [Food Stuffs] (equilibrium), Hydrogen Fuel Supplies (deficit), Medical Supplies (equilibrium), Consumer Goods (deficit), Electronics (deficit), Steel (equilibrium), Bioplastics (deficit), Chemicals (surplus), Luxury goods (low deficit), Alchoholic Beverages (surplus), Slug Weapons (deficit), Beetle Products (glut)
Quality of life: Food, clean water, lighting, sanitation, universal literacy, universal healthcare, universal higher education, lack of culture, lack of luxury, religious restrictions, and lack of universal rights
Population Morale: Medium
Government Legitimacy: Moderate.
Economy: Non-existant, survival focus
Territories: SEED Holy Land
Ethnic Groups of Note: Thornton Family Group (Unified, Loyal, Criminal), Sandsper Family Group (Unified, ? ? ?), Hoganson Family Group (Unified, Remnants), Sandsper Family, (Unified, Crimina, ? ? ?), Twenty Minor Families(Unified, Criminal), Western Outlanders (Remnants, ? ? ?), Eastern Outlanders (Twenty Clans, ? ? ?)
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 258764 times)