"See you tomorrow, Phebe." William offers with a grin, stepping out of your tent and leaving you to your paperwork. You sign the documents where you need to. Surprisingly, you find an alcohol requisition form buried at the bottom, post-dated to the middle of the march, when you briefly stopped in a little town for the evening. You chuckle to yourself, realizing that all the other forms were to slip it past you.
Brother Hop warned you about stuff like this, but also told you very bluntly, 'Trust your officers.' So you sign it without another thought, setting the completed forms aside and laying on your cot. You doze until dinner and do the same after eating.
Your armor wakes you up with a vibration you feel in your bones, and you rise. You take the bucket of cold water, splashing it on your face, wiping yourself off, and getting ready for the day ahead. Set outside your tent, like an offering, is a canteen of water, and four las-guns hastily outfitter to a bandolier. You sling it over your shoulder, slipping the container into your backpack. In a field beside the tent, your soldiers stand at attention. Patrolled by the officers, who prowl and deliver swift reprimands when something is even an inch out of place. They cease their predatory prowl, standing at attention with the rest when you arrive. A chaplain begins to speak, blessing them in the name of SEED, in your name, in the name of the Great Work. Major Anderson speaks next, raising his voice, describing the battle ahead, the plans, the action groups, and all the misfortunes of war that can occur. He doesn't shy away from the specifics, either, the 'price of a city,' the 'price of peace.'
A grim air descends on your heavy infantry. But your troops begin to march when you nod to the officers, no man or woman turning back. Thornton mercenaries head the three detachments as they split up from the first staging ground. You fall in between the mercenaries and your soldiers. Then you march.
Its three hours later when you arrive at your staging grounds. William stands beside you after a late morning, a crooked grin on his face. You wait, breathing in and out, calming yourself as adrenaline pumps through your veins. You do not fear. No, you have to keep yourself from feeling the excitement. Blood lust drips into your veins, threatening to break the reservoir.
Then you hear the guns from the hills behind. Fire explodes on the plain between you and the city, raking the soil up, dragging its way across the barren field and creeping forward into the city. You begin to walk forward when the third blast burns across the torn soil, and your men march behind.
Halfway across the city, a piercing screech rises, only to be cut short as artillery ordinance begins to burn into the ruins of Rodstadt with bright flashes of burning white liquid fire. The flames wick themselves out quickly enough, and you enter the outskirts of the city.
You activate your cutter blade as your men spread out on the road, picking their way slowly through the ruins behind you, eyes on the gaping husks of buildings that remain. Rodstadt was a city of concrete and steel, you realize, as the rubble is mostly masonry, unlike the towns of the eastern reaches of SEED's holy domain. Their ruins tower over the street still.
The screeching has died off, but you don't let your heart hope that the battle is over.
You advance, as your soldiers keep overwatch over the remains of alleyways and side-streets, setting up positions higher up. Your soldiers flow with good training, and you're in the city proper now. No one speaks, commands given out in rapid hand signals. Then the screech rises out from all around you. Suddenly, your helmet lights up every single enemy that rapidly approaches, detectable by the beating of hearts and the pulse of las-gun reactors.
"Ambush!" You shout.
[9 vs. 14] Your men hesitate for a split second before taking up positions along the street to hold back the infected that begin to stream in.
Bursting through the rubble are five twisted parodies of insects. Their chitinous gleam silver in the sparse sunlight that filters through ash and dust. Long, prehensile tentacles lash, too many to count, spreading out from their underbellies as they turn to face you. They begin to scuttle towards you, long frontal horns tilted down as they build up speed.
Twisting entities that once could have been men begin to emerge from the ruins beside and behind you, charging with las-guns blasting from their shoulders. They, too, have that odd metallic sheen to their skin, but the flesh that was once human writhes and curls unnaturally faces melted into chests, smaller tentacles lashing and twisting. Twists of shattered bone and metal rip their way out of flesh unusually pale. No two are the same. But they screech in pain.
[1 vs. 10] They lay into your soldiers, shredding into them with scores of rending tentacles and las-gun explosions. The beetles are unable to build up enough speed-- but it doesn't matter anyway, as they crash with sickening thumps into the Thornton Mercenaries, inferno shotguns blowing chunks out of them. But they still charge.
[2]You hesitate, reaching toward your burner pistol, but stop yourself. You're overwhelmed with confidence.
I can deal with this.[19 vs. 9/15] Two charge towards the line of under defended infantry, undistracted by the Mercenaries, who break off into groups to deal with the two that rip and tear at their brethren. You catch your breath and step out from the infantry, your cutter hilt flaring forth with heat.
They do not stop charging, tilting their heads towards you with a flick of their beady black eyes. You wait, patiently, ducking out of the way and slamming the weightless blade into both of their body's flesh. It sizzles. They scream, feet suddenly scrambling for purpose as they try to turn to face you.
[1 vs. 4/18] The multitudes of tentacles lash out at you, and your shield suddenly envelopes you, their limbs bouncing off with thuds that you can feel in your bones. You're on the defensive as they suddenly surround you, trying to break at your shield, and you can -feel- the cracks in it.
[3 vs. 8/20] One screeches and they begin to throw their bodies at the shield, their sheer size and bulk cracking it further. Their skin ripples with twisting spikes of jagged metal, and you futilely try to slash at them from the safety of it.
[1 vs. 19/11] Your shield cracks suddenly, just in time for one of the beasts to body-slam you-- you lift your forearm to protect yourself, and are rewarded with searing pain and a sickening crack. You drop your SMG as you sprawl with the force of the impact. [Broken forearm detected. Beginning to heal.]
[9 vs. 17/1] They charge you once again, all lashing tentacles-- but this time, you lash out as well, driving your cutter into one's head. It crumples down, twitching feebly-- the other one sends you sprawling with a sickening crunch to your chest, its cutting tentacles deflected by the armor, but still leaving you with [ three broken ribs, no puncture in lungs detected. Beginning to heal.]
[15 vs. 15] With your focus only on one of the Beetles, you begin to trade blows, it lashes right when you sweep left, and you both score hits on the other. Your's, however, is a little more deadly, and his-- oh. Your pauldron is slashed through, deflecting the blade just enough that instead of losing the shoulder, you lose an inch of flesh. Blood starts to pour out, and a strange grey color begins to creep its way across the damaged tissue. [Healing canceled-- Infection Detected. All resources devoted. Do not heal until Infection contained! [redacted] withdrawn from limb- nervous link severed to the arm. Please hold]
[16 vs. 4][17 vs. 8][9 vs. 1]Your men haven't fared better than you, as many lay dead or dying from the initial ambush. The tide is turning, though, no doubt. Your men have loosely organized, providing covering fire for the few brave souls who have drawn their cutter blades, protecting them from las-fire from down the alleyways. In turn, the cutters protect the las-gunners from the twisting abominations that charge forward haphazardly. Medics attend to the dead and dying-- sometimes, not so gently ending a life before the infection can spread. With this teamwork, they start to make short work of the amassed foes. A screech goes up, and the abominations retreat.
[7 vs. 6][11 vs. 3][15 vs. 8]You drag your gaze across to the Thornton Mercs and find that they are dispatching the last beetle with brutal efficiency. William, the only one you can recognize because a bright white crest on his helmet, is emptying a shotgun into one that squirms and wriggles, trying to escape from beneath a cutter hilt embedded into the ground. It lashes at his armor, weakly, before succumbing to its wounds. All of the mercs seem intact, even the ones that were nearly trampled to the ground by the Insect charge.
[11 vs. 20][4] William approaches, watching you warily, his helmet hanging off of his rig. Then, without a word, he roughly pushes you into one of the buildings, slipping the inferno-shotgun beneath your chin, angled upwards. Your limbs are too weak to do anything but stand. There is no humor in his eyes as he watches your shoulder twist and squirm. He doesn't flinch as you drop to your knees, weak, and for the first time in your life, you feel feverish. Too warm. Too hot. You feel your chest start to cramp, and it gets hard to breathe.
[13] All at once, it fades. You glance at your shoulder to note that it no longer has any of that gray twisting matter in it, just a wound slowly sealing itself with scab tissue. William grins then, that grim look gone as he lifts you gently to your feet and presses your SMG beneath your arm. You step out with his support towards the street.
You take a breath as your men regroup. Your arm and chest ache painfully, but the suit assures you you can mend now. Blood drips to the ground, and you notice that it steams in the cold night air.
You are Pheobe Gainer AKA Alphira
Local Time: [1300] 9/30/2011
Personal Time: <3 months
Empyreal Time: NO NETWORK CONNECTION.
You feel faintly disgusted comfortable.
Your shoulder lays in shreds, blood dripping in rivulets.
On the same arm, your forearm is broken.
You are hungry.
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-cloakStrapped across your chest:
A worn shield belt. 0/5Beneath your gorget:
A blood red kevlar mesh.Strapped across your shoulders: A collection of 'burner' pistols on a bandolier. (5)
Strapped to your back:
A heavy assault SMG, painted gold and black.500/500In a holster:
An archeotech Cutter Hilt.300/500In a holster:
A dull, gold and black las-gun pistol.250/250In belt: 5 las-gun rifle magazines.
In backpack: Twenty 'nutrient' cubes, five auto-syringes of modified 'Ballistic', five auto-syringes of 'modified' sleeping medicine, five auto-syringes of 'modified' tranquilizers, one las-gun repair kit, with extra focusing barrels and lenses, five las-gun rifle magazines, five las-gun pistol magazines, one canteen, full of water.
[100 credits] in local currency.
Overload: Qualified
Inferno : Able
Healing Factor: Apprentice
-
Endurance Boost: Amateur.
-
Strength Boost: Amateur.
Matter Manipulation:Silicon::Able
Skill:
Charisma: Apprentice
Skill:
Attrition Warfare: Apprentice
Skill:
Marksmanship: Proficient
You are under contract with The Brotherhood of Scholars for twenty-three years. [Angel] of The Holy City State of SEED
--High Influence within its borders
--Full command of all military resources, as approved by Crusader General
--Full command of all military resources, in emergencies
--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 Mail, Emma
--High Influence within Steelworks 9 Region
--Allied with Nicole Gainer, you
Organization: Personal Guard
--A complement of fifty 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 Captain Zachary McKinney
--Currently in charge of protecting Emma Thornton.
--49/56 Loyal, Fanatic
--3/50 Uncertain
--4/50 Defiant
--McGee Foster (Loyal)
--James Foster (Loyal)
--Erica Hail (Loyal)
--Johnathan Shellton (Loyal)
--Eric Armstrong (Loyal)
--Quincy Black (Loyal)
Organization: Cohort: Red Sword 'The Charging Ajerix'
--A complement of six hundred Crusaders' highly trained, heavily armed. Each carries a las-rifle, a las-pistol, a personal knife, and a cutter hilt. They wear Heavily Armored Crusader helmets, chest-plates, leggings, boots, and face obscuring kevlar face masks.
--Lead by Crusader Major Anderson
--Under your direct command
--600/600
Organization: Cohort: Green Rifle 'The Ruthless Rippers'
--A complement of six hundred Crusaders' highly trained, heavily armed. Each carries a las-rifle, a las-pistol, a personal knife, and a cutter hilt. They wear Heavily Armored Crusader helmets, chest-plates, leggings, boots, and face obscuring kevlar face masks.
--Lead by Crusader Major Jackson
--Under your direct command
--600/600
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.
--Lead by William Thornton
--48/48
Ally, Superior: The Pontifex
--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: Captain Zachary McKinney
--Contactable in person
--High Influence within Personal Guard
--Allied with The Pontifex
--Very low Influence with the Crusaders of SEED
Ally, Subservient: William Thornton
--Contactable through Mail, Emma
--High influence within the Thornton Mercenaries
--High influence within The Thornton Family
--Feared within Steelworks 9 Region
Personal Scientist, Ally: Silas Thornton
--Contactable in person
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Contact, Military Trainer Coordinator: Tyler Hop (Cordial)
Lover, Adjutant: Emma Thornton
--High influence within The Thornton Family
Friends(?) (Lost Contact):
-Jesse Hardhouse
-Amanda Silversmith
-John Frost
Poll
0 (0%)
Author
Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 259769 times)