The Return to Liten (Game Over)

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1175 (ISO) » Sun Dec 26, 2010 6:49 pm

Spoiler: Vote Count 4.3

Arkon Planetary Communications Jammer
Non-colonized Sector 1, UTP Planet Liten, Tynnfred System
December 5th, 2486 SC (Day 4, Month 15 LC)
0238 hours SST (2720 hours LLT3)

Kestrel and Dylan strode tentatively down the corridor. The black-green walls had strange ridges protruding out at irregular places, like slabs of rough tree bark. The illumination was close to pitch-black, and both Meggidos were forced to rely on their tacvisors for decent vision. They each held their laser rifles at their waist, well aware that an Arkon could come around any corner, at any time.

"You know where we're going, right?" Kestrel whispered.

"The fuck should I know?" Dylan whispered back. "I know the directions Bill gave to the control room, but honestly, all these goddamn corridors look the same to me. Besides, all we really need to do is keep any stray Arkons occupied for the next thirty minutes, so it doesn't really matter if we--"

Without warning, Kestrel knelt to the floor, her right hand shooting to her forehead. Dylan was at her side instantly.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "We've no time for headaches--"

"Gut!" Kestrel gasped. "Arkons! They're near!"

Immediately Dylan was on his feet again, laser rifle held to his shoulder. He swiveled his body rapidly, his eyes scraping the area for any sign of Arkons. "You sure about that, Kestrel? Your gut's hasn't been working this whole--"

The hiss of a laser shot melting through body armor interrupted his question, the sound coming from behind him. He turned just in time to see an Arkon body fall to the floor unceremoniously.

"That direction!" Kestrel hissed, still kneeling on the ground, but with her laser rifle at her shoulder.

Loud, rapid clomps could now be heard emanating from the corridor the Arkon had appeared from. Dylan groaned and pressed himself against the wall, his body perfectly aware of each and every little bump on it. Shitfights were never a fun thing.

"I just hope the others come through," he grunted to Kestrel. "I don't want all this to be for nothing."

Kestrel nodded. "You and me both."

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1176 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:01 am

Night 4 is over. I'm still behind on flavor, so you'll just get flips, for now.

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1177 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:10 am

Unknown Location, Kehvit Mountain Range
Non-colonized Sector 1, UTP Planet Liten, Tynnfred System
December 5th, 2486 SC (Day 5, Month 15 LC)
0354 hours SST (0006 hours LLT3)

At first, there was only the dull throbbing in the back of her head. Darkness enveloped Sara; she opened her eyes, and the blackness only slightly diminished in intensity. Thoughts crawled through her mind like slugs in a marathon.

Suddenly, something in her vision changed, and she could pick out bright, white dots amidst the blackness. More sensations came over her body, the vast majority being ones of extreme soreness and fatigue.

Oh, right. We crashed.

She was lying on her back, her face turned to the sky. She tried moving her limbs, and they seemed to respond perfunctorily.

Nothing feels broken...

Grunting, she reached for the safety straps and removed them from her body. The dullness in her mind refused to go away, but she ignored it as she wearily pushed herself out into a sitting position.

Looking around, Sara soon spotted another one of the seats from the

Silver Ducky

lying on its side in the snow. There were two figures nearby; one was Jezzy, and the other...

Sara stared at the other figure blankly as it clawed virulently at Jezzy, lying on the ground and desperately fighting back.

Oh, god...another of those bastards...

What are you doing just sitting on your ass, Sara? Do something!

Sara reached for her hip holster, fumbled a bit with the strap, and extracted her laser pistol. Quickly she took aim at the Arkon, but found her arm shaky. She tried to stabilize the right arm with her left hand, before remembering that she had no left hand.

Damn it all!

She laid her right arm across what was left of her left forearm, but there was still an uncomfortable amount of lateral movement. At the site of the conflict, Jezzy suddenly collapsed to the ground, scarlet blood oozing out from a multiplex of wounds. The Arkon raised an arm, sharp claws glistening with Jezzy's blood.

Sara grunted.

Here goes nothing...

The shot went wide right of the Arkon, but it did start and glance in her direction, ignoring Jezzy. Sara fired another shot, this one slightly closer, but off to the right.

"Hylesk!" the Arkon growled, scampering away from Jezzy and off into the night. Sara took one last shot at it, and like the others before it missed. The snow was hard enough to avoid leaving any trace of footprints.

"Fuck!" Sara grumbled as she holstered her laser pistol. She climbed out of her seat, only to topple to the ground after only a couple steps outside. Still she kept at it, run-crawling towards Jezzy in spite of the mental dullness and dysfunctional limb coordination. Finally, she was at Jezzy's side.

It looked bad. Jezzy's chest was barely heaving up and down, the suit, skin and muscle were severely torn apart, and blood gushed from her wounds, staining the surrounding snow red. The right side of her face was half-ripped from her skull, and blood covered everything, from her eyes to her hair.

Jezzy stared as Sara knelt at her side. "Sara?" she spoke, and Sara could her the blood gargling in her throat.

"It's all right, Jezzy, it's gone. I scared it off."

"You didn't kill--" A violent fit of coughing interrupted Jezzy.

Sara shook her head. "No, I missed. I tried to kill it, but I missed. I'm sorry."

They stared at each other for a moment, their silence strong enough to cut through ultrasteel. Then Sara said, "You're gonna need a lot of bandaging up if you want to--"

"No." Jezzy coughed again, splattering more blood on Sara's already-bloodstained uniform. "We don't need...two people holding us down." She glanced at Sara's laser pistol. "You know what to...what to do."

Sara sighed. "It's not that bad--"

"Don't kid yourself. Even if I'm patched--

haughck

--patched up, I'm still just porce...porcelain in a box." She paused. "I guess it's fitting, given what I've done."

"What you've...what are you talking about, Jezzy?"

Again, a long silence. "No point hiding it anymo--" Jezzy coughed up more blood. "I killed them, Sara."

"Them? Them who?"

Does she mean...

"Arthur...Simona...Ingrid...and the marines the

Deborah

sent to--

huachk--to help us."

"They sent...my god. Jezzy--"

"I know what you're going to say. Yes, what I did was...wrong. But I thought...I thought I knew what I was doing. But...I was so wrong...I thought I could prove you wrong, but I--"

Jezzy's body heaved violently in a torrent of coughs. Sara stared numbly at the blood pool soaking into the snow.

She...I can't believe she would...

"I don't...blame you," Jezzy spoke. "For hating me for what I've done."

Sara shook her head very slowly. "No. I don't hate you. I can't condone your actions, but I know you were only trying to help our mission."

Jezzy smirked. "At least you're being kind about it. More than...I'd have done, in your shoes. Now, please...just finish me off. It's the best thing to do."

Slowly, Sara withdrew her laser pistol. The two women stared into each other's eyes, and Sara could feel tears streaming down her face.

"For what it's worth, I'm..." Jezzy paused. "I'm sorry things turned out this...this way."

"Yeah, me too. May you--" Sara froze, visions of the whiteness filling her mind. "May you find happiness in whatever afterlife awaits you."

Jezzy bobbed her head. Sara backed off a bit and aimed her laser pistol at Jezzy's heart. Jezzy stared up at the sky, her breathing noticeably more laborious than earlier.

Oh, god, how I hate this--

She pulled the trigger. Jezzy's head rolled on its left side and lay still.

Sighing, Sara stood up, pulled her tacvisor over her eyes, and looked around. She was in the bottom of a canyon, at least three hundred meters deep and half a kilometer wide. Snow coated everything that wasn't rock. In the distance, near the northern wall of the canyon, she could barely see a large pile of twisted metal.

The crash site...hopefully if anyone's missing, they'll gather around there...

Holstering her laser pistol, she rose to her feet. Her legs held this time, and the dullness in her mind seemed to have cleared up. She began to jog toward the crash site...

ThAdmiral, Jezebel "Jezzy" Bahha,

Human Vigilante

, was put out of her misery on Night 4.

Day 5 has begun. With seven players alive, it takes four votes to lynch.
The deadline is on Monday, January 10th, 2010 at 9:00 a.m. CST. (Note: I might change this if it conflicts with next semester's schedule.)

Two more things:

- First, if I've sent you a PM anytime after the beginning of the Liten game, would you mind PMing the contents back to me? I...got a little overzealous whilst cleaning out old PMs.

- Second, at some point in the near future, I'm going to relocate all the Opening Scenes from the first post to their own posts within the game, because the current MS problems won't let me edit posts with too many characters in them. I'll put links in the first post so you guys can still find them easily, but I just thought I'd give you a heads-up.

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1178 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:11 am

You may now post.

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1179 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:22 am

Spoiler: Opening Scene 1

SS

Davy Maybourne

High Orbit, UTP Planet Massotorrido, Medici System
November 26th, 2486 Space Calendar
0233 hours Standard Space Time

The graveyard shift was always a bitch. Ensign Sammy Weiss wearily rubbed her eyes and took another swig of coffee.

Another six hours to go...

Distractedly she eyed the steel-gray mug in her hand, studying the symbol of spacefleet printed on it's side: a crimson laser pistol on top of a white circle, which was encircled by a pair of curved, green olive branches. The colors intrigued her dazed eyes...

A shrill beep emitted from her computer console. Setting the coffee mug down, she looked at the holographic display and saw the pop-up the earlier sound had announced. It read, "Incoming Interstellar Transmission. Priority Alpha-1 Red. Source: Rebel Planet Liten, Tynnfred System."

She raised her eyebrow. Alpha-1 Red transmissions were high-danger red-alerts, on par with planetary invasions. On top of that, it was coming from a rebel planet. Something was going on, here.

"Bertha, answer transmission," she ordered the AID (Artificial Intelligence Design) on her computer terminal. "And flag the transmission for Communications Officer Vivaldi."

"Complying," Bertha's low, smooth voice replied. A black rectangle took up the majority of the holodisplay's visual area and began showing video feed.

Immediately Sammy was startled by the sound of laser rifles firing in the background. A woman, clad in a faux-tiger fur coat in addition to a simple gray jumpsuit, was standing in front of the camera on the other end of the transmission, panting heavily. Behind her, five militia were brandishing laser rifles and facing something to the left of the screen. A door, perhaps? And then there was no time left to wonder as the woman gasped,

"This is Leslie Hampton, Governor of Liten. We're being invaded by the Arkons, and we lack the resources to fight them off. We request immediate aid from Spacefleet."

"Governor Hampton, this is Ensign Weiss of the SS

Davy Maybourne

," Sammy replied. "You are currently considered a rebellious state to the Union of Terran Planets. As such, you may not request--"

"Damn it, then, consider this a surrender!" Hampton shouted. "This pains me, but not as much as getting wiped out by the bloody Arkons!"

"If you're surrendering, I'll need to relay this transmission to our station admiral--" At this point Bertha automatically began to hail Admiral Washiby-- "--as only an admiral can accept--"

"There's not enough time!"

Behind the governor, the militants held their rifles at the ready. One of them said, "Get ready, men."

Hampton sighed and keyed something into her terminal. "I'm transmitting the data we have on an object of alien origin," she stated. "We think it's the reason the Arkons invaded in the first place. We didn't have enough time to figure out what it was, but we know it's damned important!"

On Sammy's screen, a pop-up appeared announcing, "Incoming Data Packet. Priority Alpha-1." She told Bertha to accept the data packet. "The Admiral has been notified, and should be responding shortly, Governor."

"Just get here soon," Leslie growled, "or there won't be anything left to save!"

Suddenly, a large yellow laser shot across the room in the background. One of the militants cried, "They've gotten through!" He and the others opened fire with red laser bursts.

"Shit!" Hampton screeched. "We've got the files uploaded. Just get the hell--"

Suddenly, the display returned to black. A pop-up appeared, reading, "Signal Lost."

"Bertha, attempt to reestablish contact with that transmitter," Sammy ordered, fighting the fingers of ice tap-dancing on her spine.

"Complying."

Two more video boxes, smaller than the first one, appeared on Sammy's display. The right-side box displayed a black-haired man in his thirties--Communications Officer Vivaldi--and the left-hand box displayed an older man with graying wisps of hair and icicle-blue eyes. Station Admiral Washiby.

"Yes, sirs?" Sammy inquired tentatively. "Did you guys get all that?"

"Indeed," Vivaldi replied in a rich, tenor voice.

"Did you get the entire data packet?" Washiby asked.

"Oh, um, yes sir." Sammy ordered Bertha to open the data packet. Immediately a plethora of files appeared on the holodisplay, with a small summary box on the side. Inside the summary box were two things: a picture of an egg-shaped, ebony-black object with a ring of turquoise light running around the widest diameter, and written text that read,

"Unknown Alien Artifact. Discovered: Day 25, Month 13. Dimensions: 0.28m at shortest diameter, 0.81m at longest diameter. Distinctive Properties: Emits a blue light and a quiet hum of 26 decibels. Preliminary scans indicate energy of some form, but will require more extensive tests to be conclusive. --Dr. Joshua Gordon, Lead Scientist"

"I'll get our science team working on this data immediately," Admiral Washiby stated. "Have you been able to reestablish contact with Liten, Ensign?"

"Negative, sir. The transmitter probably got fried."

"Keep trying, anyway. Officer Vivaldi, alert the Admiralty Board of our situation and request a conference transmission to discuss how we're going to respond to this event. Afterward, order Commodore Kerry to recall his crew from shoreleave and report for duty within the next 24 space hours."

"Yes, sir!" Vivaldi and Sammy replied simultaneously.

"Good. Admiral Washiby out."

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1180 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:22 am

Spoiler: Opening Scene 2

SS

Davy Maybourne

High Orbit, UTP Planet Massotorrido, Medici System

November 26th, 2486 Space Calendar

0412 hours SST

Admiral Washiby sat on a comfortable, yet stiff black chair, in a tiny low-lit room. In front of him was an opaque, circular, black holotable, and encircling the table were 14 plain, sparse chairs, in addition to Washiby's. Holographic figures were seated in most of these chairs; five were male, eight were female. One chair, however, was devoid of an occupant.

"Has any news been heard on the whereabouts of Admiral Dawkins?" Washiby inquired. "This is a situation of utmost importance, and though I feel the entirety of the Admiralty Board should be available to discuss the implications of the event at hand, we cannot afford to wait any longer."

"I concur," agreed Admiral Gradkowski, an auburn-haired woman in her early forties. Murmurs of assent trickled from the rest of the admiralty. Gazes shifted toward a white-haired, steel-eyed woman in her late fifties, her face bearing the stretched, shiny look of people who underwent wrinkle surgery. "What say you, Supreme Admiral?"

"Very well," the Supreme Admiral responded. "We shall convene this meeting without the presence of Admiral Dawkins. Should he make his entrance at a later time, he shall have to catch up via an AID summary. Now, Admiral Washiby, elucidate us on what has transpired that called for a full meeting of the board."

Reading from a condensed, AID-written summary projected in front of him, Washiby recounted the events of a couple hours ago, having them refer to the data packet he sent them when necessary. In his conclusion, Washiby stated, "Until now, we have not been able to discern a proper motive for an Arkon invasion beyond speculation of manifest destiny and causation of chaos. Now, however, they seem to have a specific objective to their invasion of the planet Liten. It would be in our best interests to retake the planet from the Arkonian forces and deny them whatever it is they're after."

"Hold on," protested Admiral Yakamoto, an aging Japanese man. "This is merely speculation on your part. There is no concrete evidence to support your position. Even if your supposition is true, our forces are spread thinly enough as it is. There are more productive things to do with our armadas than retake a fringe colony that up til now has been in a state of rebellion."

"But Liten is on the border of UTP space!" Admiral Lynch protested, her emerald eyes smoldering with fire. "They could effectively utilize it as a staging ground for a full-scale invasion of the 8th and 9th Sectors! We should deal with this situation now before it grows out of hand!"

"And what do you expect us to do?" growled Admiral Kearns, plucking at his gray mustache. "The 5th, 6th, and 12th Sectors are already war-torn and suffering heavy Arkon occupation. Many of our fleets have already been culled from other systems to defend the systems currently bordering Arkon-occupied territory. The

Davy Maybourne

already has a significant fighting force in the 89th Fleet. They should be able to handle any light Arkon incursion, and if the situation worsens they can get off the alert."

"Do you have no concern for our border worlds?" Lynch seethed. "These are

our

people, dammit!"

"We do not have the resources to protect every single world!" Kearns insisted. "You know that as well as I do! It's a terrible fact, but there it is."

"You just have no concern because it's not

your

people that are going to die!"

"Order!" All eyes focused on the Supreme Admiral. "We all know how precarious the Arkon situation is, and we all know that ugly decisions must be made. Please keep the emotional aspect out of your consideration.

Suddenly, a notice flashed in front of Admiral Washiby, stating, "Alpha-1 Intrastation message incoming." Lines of text began scrawling across the holodisplay. His eyes widened as he read.

"Admiral Washiby, what's happening?" inquired the Supreme Admiral.

"I'm receiving a summary from my science team." Slumping into his chair in exhaustion, he continued, "According to the Liten data, that object is capable of generating high amounts of power, with no physical cost. In other words, the device is a source of infinite energy."

Stares of shocked silence could be found in abundance at that point in time. "This...this isn't a joke, right?" Admiral Yakamoto queried.

Admiral Washiby shook his head. "My scientists seem certain about this."

"But isn't limitless energy...impossible?" protested Admiral Gradkowski weakly.

Admiral Kombu an elderly, balding black man, stated, "This changes things entirely. If that device is a source of infinite energy, not only can we ill-afford to allow the Arkons to possess it, it would be to our great advantage to secure this device for our own needs. This could advance our technology by tenfold, and indeed may be the key to fending off the Arkon menace."

"But even if this device is what it claims it is, we can't just divert our forces from their current locations," Kearns objected. "We're having a hell of a time holding our own as it is."

"Does it matter?" Lynch insisted. "If we can replicate this infinite energy source, we'll have the Arkons beat. Plus, we sure as hell can't allow the Arkons to get their hands on it."

"Then we'll send an S.O.B. team," interjected the Supreme Admiral. "I know of a team in close proximity to the Medici system, but they currently lack a stealth frigate. Admiral Washiby, I believe you mentioned that you had a frigate being readied in the event of a go situation?"

"Aye," Washiby replied. "The frigate isn't stealth, but with the right equipment we can make one out of her. The captain is experienced, and quite honestly I was close to recommending him to the Secret Operations Branch myself. Just get the team and the equipment to the

Maybourne

, and you'll have your ship."

"Excellent. Does anyone have an objection?" Silence was the answer. "Excellent. I shall get the S.O.B. team and the necessary stealth equipment to the

Davy Maybourne

as quickly as possible. Admiral Washiby, ensure that this commodore of yours is briefed properly on his new assignment, and get him the necessary clearances. Everyone else, prepare for the possibility of redistribution of forces, should it become necessary.

"This meeting of the Admiralty Board is adjourned!"

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1181 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:23 am

Spoiler: Opening Scene 3

SS

Davy Maybourne

High Orbit, UTP Planet Massotorrido, Medici System
November 26th, 2486 Space Calendar
1726 SST

Commodore James Kerry sat quietly on a chair comprised of Programmable Matter (known colloquially as progmatter). This particular progmatter was running a program that caused it to change color based on the color clothing worn by it's occupant; since Kerry sported the customary black uniform worn by military space personnel, the chair chose to color itself crimson, with various shading techniques and hue variations to suggest a leather texture. On the opposing side of the waiting room, a pretty young man sat behind a holodesk, his brown eyes intently focused on the third-meter tall holoscreen, although the side of the hologram facing Kerry was opaque, thus preventing him from observing what exactly the secretary was doing. On Kerry's left was the door that led to Admiral Washiby's office; to the right was the door that led back to the rest of the

Davy Maybourne

's Command and Control center.

Kerry looked at his omniwatch and sighed mentally. Considering that he and his crew were supposed to be enjoying well-earned rest and relaxation at the moment, if Spacefleet felt like canceling the down time and recalling him and his crew, the least they could do was not keep him waiting patiently in a chair for over twenty minutes, especially when the holomag reader was burned out. His hand ran through his jet-black hair. Then there was the unexplained change in clearance level this morning--

The C&C-side door soundlessly slid open, and Admiral Washiby trotted in, decelerating to a halt in front of Kerry, who immediately rose to his feet and braced for a salute; at the same time, the progmatter chair reverted to its normal pale gray color. "At ease, Commodore Kerry. I just got back from an important meeting that ran slightly over time. Please, follow me. We have much to discuss."

Admiral Washiby stepped toward his office door; the sensors recognized the admiral's presence and opened the doors, allowing him to walk on through. Kerry firmly strode in just behind him. The admiral beckoned Kerry toward a progmatter chair as he himself moved behind the holodesk and took the seat on the other side. Quietly, the office doors sealed shut.

"So what's this about, Admiral?" Kerry inquired. "I'm presuming it's important."

Admiral Washiby nodded. "I know you and your crew were cherishing your R and R, but we've happened upon a perilous situation that, if resolved correctly, could result in a key advantage over the Arkons in the war. Since you're the best commodore we've got around these parts, the task of completing this mission falls to you."

"I see." Kerry leaned back into his chair, which reshaped itself to accommodate the new posture. "So, what's the mission, sir?"

Reaching into a pants pocket, the admiral extracted a data-chip and held it for Kerry to see. "The in-depth particulars are detailed in this data chip. Allow me to summarize your mission: The rebel fringe colony of Liten, out in Tynnfred, is being invaded by Arkon forces, and they have requested our aid in exchange for their surrender. Based on data they've sent to us, we believe that the Litens are in possession of a device of unknown origin, termed the Infinity Generator, and that this device is capable of producing an infinite amount of energy. It is imperative that we recover the Infinity Generator and prevent it from falling into Arkon hands. Unfortunately, we can't spare any fleets toward the recapture of Liten, so the decision is to send an S.O.B. team to infiltrate Liten, recover the device, and bring it back to Terran space."

"Sounds nice, sir. Since I'm not a member of the Secret Operations Branch, I don't see where I fit into all this."

"I was just getting to that part. As it happens, the closest S.O.B. can be here within the next forty-eight hours. What they lack, however, is a stealth frigate to bring them to Liten. The nearest stealth frigate won't be able to arrive quickly enough to suit our timetable, so we've upgraded your security clearance and given you and your crew temporary reassignment to the Secret Operations Branch. Stealth equipment for your battle frigate will arrive with the S.O.B. team, and as soon as we can have the equipment installed on your frigate, you will leave for the Tynnfred system.

"Commodore, I cannot stress the importance of this mission enough. As of now, we're not winning this war. Procurement of the Infinity Generator may give us the crucial advantage we need to defeat the Arkon menace. Failure is absolutely not an option. Do I make myself clear?"

Tersely Kerry nodded. "Yes, sir. Perfectly clear."

"Good." Admiral Washiby held the data-chip out, and Kerry took it and placed it in his own pants pocket. "I suggest you familiarize yourself with the information on that data-chip quickly," he added. "Time is of the essence. You're dismissed, Commodore."

Kerry rapidly rose, saluted, and strode out of the admiral's office. As he traipsed down the myriad corridors leading to the space station's shuttle bay, he pondered on how the hell he was going to brief the crew on these changes in events...

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1182 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:23 am

Spoiler: Opening Scene 4

Dropship

Apollyon

High Orbit, UTP Planet Massotorrido, Medici System
November 28th, 2486 Space Calendar
1628 hours SST

Captain Sara Gaints felt a queasiness in the pit of her stomach. It was that damned space sickness acting up on her again. On larger spacecraft, such as capital ships and space station, there was artificial gravity, so the nausea wasn't an issue; in tiny tin cans like this dropship, however, there wasn't room for a gravity generator, and thus her ear fluids continually threw themselves out of whack. At least there were barf bags onboard for this sort of contingency; having to contend with globules of vomit floating around in nullo was far from the most pleasant experience in the universe.

It didn't help ease the wooziness besetting her, though.

Suddenly, a male voice announced, "Major Sedarski, we're on final approach with the SBF

Deborah

. We've been granted permission to dock, and the commodore will meet you in the hangar bay. Estimated time to dock: fifty seconds."

"Thank you, Jordy." Strapped into the seat across from Sara, Major Sedarski stretched out her legs. "Maybe we'll finally find out just what the hell's going on, eh, Sara?"

"Maybe we will, sir." Sara replied hesitantly. The need to suppress the urge to vomit was rapidly usurping her mental concentration.

"Please, Sara, you can call me Margaret whenever we're not around the brass. I know you're a new addition to the Megiddos and the Special Operations Branch, but one thing you'll need to pick up on very quickly is knowing when to be formal, and when to let things slide. There a ton of shit out here that SOB's have to deal with, and if you don't maintain good morale, even the strongest of wills can break under the strain. You--" Without warning, the bright, red "Entering Gravity Field" sign began flashing, accompanied by obnoxiously loud klaxons.

"Got it, Sara?" the major asked again.

"Yes, sir." Sedarski's stare could've melted ultrasteel. "I mean, Margaret."

"Good."

Suddenly, Sara plunged downward into her seat, and her nausea used that disruption in concentration to attempt a violent expulsion of putrid particles. Sara barely managed to stymie the puke in her throat and force it back into the bowels of her stomach. Now the yellow "Landing" sign flashed, and Sara grasped the handles protruding from the wall behind her. She braced her self, awaiting the inevitable jolt that all landings had in common...

"We've landed, Major," Jordy announced. "Debark at your convenience."

We've touched down already? Damn, that's one--

"Hell of a pilot, ain't he?" Margaret winked as she unfastened the safety restraints. "C'mon, let's get out of this tin can. I'll head out and meet the captain. You make sure everyone gets off and takes their gear with them."

"Will do, sir--Margaret."

A smile traipsed Margaret's lips. "We'll make a fine Megiddo out of you yet." With those words, the major pushed herself onto her feet, ambulated to the rear of the dropship, and punched a large, black-striped red button. The door-ramp lowered itself outward and downward, revealing an ultrasteel-plated, massive room waiting outside. Sara watched as Major Sedarski strode down the ramp; then she finished extracting herself from her seat and stood up, along with the other twenty-two SOBs on the dropship.

"You know the drill, boys and girls, now get your asses moving!" Sara barked.

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1183 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:25 am

Spoiler: Opening Scene 5 Part 1

SBF

Deborah

High Orbit, UTP Planet Massotorrido, Medici System
November 28th, 2486 Space Calendar
1855 hours SST

Sara lay on the narrow bunk, eyes staring vacantly into the ceiling. The Meggidos were being quartered in the station that normally belonged to the

Deborah

's shipboard marine squad. Since the marines had also been ordered to help the Meggidos store the equipment they'd brought with them, quite a few harsh words had been exchanged.

Hopefully we won't have to be on this ship together for long...

A high-pitched beep, hitting B-flat 7, jarred Sara from her thoughts. "Enter," she called. The door refused to open.

Oh, right. It's a time-delay door.

A few seconds later, the door slid back, and Major Sedarski strode into Sara's quarters. Immediately Sara bolted to her feet and jabbed her hand up to her forehead in salute.

"Please, Sara, relax," the major groaned. "I've just been shitting brass out of my ass for the past few hours, and I don't need any more of that crap today."

Sara abashedly lowered her arm to her side. "Sorry, Major--"

"Did you forget my name already, Sara?"

"I mean Margaret, sorry--"

"And for Darwin's sake, stop apologizing already! There's a reason it's called a cliche. Aside from that, apologies used in excess simply negate any authority you exert over your subordinates."

"Sorry--" Sara sighed. "Yes, Margaret."

Margaret smiled. "See, you're learning. It's not a hopeless cause. Now, why don't we sit down?"

Indicating the nearby desk, Sara said, "The chair's over there--"

"I mean on that lousy excuse for a bed, silly."

Tentatively Sara seated herself, while the major came over and plopped down to her right. "You're not big on protocol, are you?" Sara inquired.

"You're observant." Margaret leaned back against the wall, hands behind her head and legs stretched out and crossed. "There's two reasons why I'm here. First, I'm giving you early notice of what our mission is going to be so you have time to adjust before we present it to the rest of the team tomorrow."

"What's the second thing?"

"I'll get to that soon enough. Sara, I'm not gonna lie to you: we've got a hell of a mission on our hands, here. It's easily the most difficult mission I've undertaken, in all my years with the SOB." Margaret took in a deep breath. "We're going to the planet Liten, out in Tynnfred. It was formerly a rebel planet, but the Arkons recently invaded, and given Intel's estimate of Liten's defensive capability, the planet is most likely under alien control by now."

Margaret paused, looking intently at Sara. "Um..."

She wants me to engage her...right?

"If this planet was in rebellion and the Arkons are taking it over, why are we going there?"

With a nod, Margaret replied, "Exactly. Why are we jumping into another shithole when we can't get out of the ones we're already in? Well, it turns out that just before the Arkon invasion, the scientists on Liten found an alien artifact, something

non

-Arkon. When the Arkons invaded the planet, the governor surrendered to the UTP and transmitted the data they'd gathered on the artifact. Intel thinks that this device is capable of producing an infinite source of energy."

Limitless energy...

"That's not possible! At least if I understand anything at all about the sciences..."

"I know. It goes against all the laws of physics, and then some, but supposedly the data is irrevocable. Needless to say, an infinite power source is not only something we can't afford to let the Arkons have, but it could very likely be the key to us winning the war. So we're being sent to Liten to retrieve it."

"Dear god..." Sara's mind felt almost numb. "It's a suicide mission."

Margaret sat up and put her left arm around Sara's shoulders. "Yes, it is. Like I said, it's the worst mission I've ever seen. But the Meggidos have toughed it through other suicide missions before and won, and I'm confident that we'll be victorious this time, as well."

Sara looked into Margaret's eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

"Does it matter? I

have

to believe it. It's the only chance we have of not getting killed. You're a smart woman, Sara. But forget the odds, the likelihoods, the chances. Trump it with absolute conviction. It's one of the most important lessons you'll need to learn as an SOB operative. If you don't pick it up fast, the troops'll revile you for it. Understand?"

Sara bobbed her head. "I know. It's just...I've never lacked courage, my record shows that--"

"Relax. Everyone's allowed to be afraid, hon. Just don't let it go to your head. Speaking of which, that's the other thing I wanted to show you."

"What"

Margaret smiled. "Relaxation techniques." She edged closer to Sara, who tensely leaned away.

"What are you doing, Margaret?" Sara asked.

Using her arm to pull Sara against her body, Margaret replied, "Sara, when you're an SOB, you have to find ways to cope with the hell that comes as a part of your job. When's the last time you've made love to someone?"

"Um...ah..." Sara blushed. "I've never done it with a woman before."

"How about a guy?"

Sara shook her head. "Major, this is against protocol!"

"And you already know how much I respect protocol. Besides, when it comes to SOBs, the brass is nice enough to be lenient on matters like these." She rubbed Sara's left breast, just above the heart. "You can feel the tension, can't you? Pent up emotion, crammed in there like clothes in an overstuffed suitcase. You gotta get it out somehow, Sara. And what better vehicle than passionate love?"

Margaret's rubbing extended from the breast to the entire torso area, and inside her Sara felt something melting. "I-I don't think this is appropriate..."

Ceasing her massage, Margaret reached up, gently pressed Sara's left cheek, and turned her head so that they gazed into each others' eyes. "Do you really mean that?"

Smoldering, emerald green eyes reflected Sara's timid, sapphire blue eyes.

I shouldn't...this only leads to trouble...

Even as those thoughts coursed her mind, she felt something else consuming her mind. A feeling she'd kept suppressed for her entire life, crying out for release. She wanted it so much, yet it was not only against protocol, but against her personality, her sensibility, her rational thought...

Argh, the hell with it!

She looked into Margaret's eyes once again. This time, they reflected back passionate sapphire blues. "No, I don't," she said quietly, but determinedly.

Margaret leaned in close. "Perfect," she whispered.

Her lips brushed Sara's warmly. Stiffly she began to lean into the kiss, but suddenly Margaret stopped.

She put a finger to Sara's lips. "This is lovemaking, girl, not a briefing. Here, let's try that again..."

She crushed her lips on Sara's and squeezed their bodies together tightly. Surprised, Sara gasped. Then she threw her arms around Margaret's shoulders and pushed back passionately. Together, they collapsed onto the narrow cot.

SaintKerrigan · Post Post #1184 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 4:26 am

Spoiler: Opening Scene 5 Part 2

November 29th, 2486 Space Calendar
1257 hours SST

Commodore Kerry leaned forward in the commodore's chair. "Engineering, is the stealth equipment functioning properly?" he inquired.

"Aye, sir," the chief engineer replied. "It's a clean marriage."

"And the rest of our systems are operational?"

"Aye, we are at full capability."

"I guess it's time to get this operation out of drydock, then. Comm, open a channel with Admiral Washiby. Display on the viewscreen."

"Yes, sir," replied the communications officer. She manipulated a few holobuttons above her station. "The admiral's standing by, Commodore. Putting him on visual."

Kerry stared forward. On the bridge's viewscreen, an image of Admiral Washiby, sitting in his office, appeared. "Ah, Commodore Kerry," he greeted. "Have you called to tell me that you're ready for departure?"

"Yes, sir," Kerry replied. "With your approval, we'll be underway at once."

"You have my approval, Commodore. Godspeed, and God be with you."

"Thank you, sir. God help us all."

"Indeed. Admiral Washiby out."

The admiral's image vanished, restoring the view from Forward Camera One: black, starry space on the left side of the screen, the planet Massotorrido on the right side.

"Helmsman, take us out of orbit to minimum safe hypertunnel distance," Kerry ordered. "Navigator, plot a course to the Tynnfred system. Put us on the outer fringe."

The

Deborah

rumbled slightly as she accelerated out of planetary orbit. "Comm, put me on internal ship broadcasting. Audio only."

"Yes sir. You are now live all across the ship."

Kerry sat up straight, squaring his shoulders resolutely. "Attention, all personnel. This is the commodore speaking. By now, you have all been informed of the nature of our operation, and as such, you know exactly how dangerous our task is going to be. It may seem overwhelming, even impossible to accomplish."

* * *

Sara stopped in the middle of the corridor to listen to Commodore Kerry's speech. Others around her did as well.

"However, we have on the

Deborah

the best of the best in all of Spacefleet," Commodore Kerry continued. "Crew, we have entered lost causes time and time again, and we have always proved victorious."

"Hell, yeah!" an ensign hollered.

"And as for our guests, they are one of the most successful SOB squads in UTP history, though their accomplishments often aren't shown due to the secrecy necessary for their work."

Sara nodded silently in agreement.

"Together, we form a powerful team, one that will go into this hellhole called Liten, retrieve the alien artifact, and bring it back for the glory of the human race! The

only

things we'll let the Arkons have are the taste of defeat and, if required, the shots from our laser rifles! We will not--no, we

can

not--do anything less.

* * *

"You know what we can do, people. Make your commodore proud."

Kerry nodded to the communications officer, and she deactivated the internal broadcast. "Well spoken, sir," she complimented. The rest of the bridge crew nodded in assent.

"Commodore, we've reached minimum hypertunnel distance," the helmsman notified.

"I have a course plotted for the Tynnfred system as well, sir," added the navigational officer. "Shall I engage?"

Leaning back into his seat, Kerry raised his right hand, extended the second and third fingers, and let his arm fall forward, pointing the two fingers at the viewscreen. "Do it."

"Yessir." The navigational officer pushed a holobutton, and a low-pitched blare began to drone throughout the ship. "Engaging Torr Drive on my mark. Five...four...three...two...one...

"Mark."

* * *

1300 hours SST

For a moment, the

Deborah

was still there. Suddenly, the front end of the ship disappeared, and before a second had passed, the frigate was nowhere to be found.

* * *

"Hypertunnel entry successful," the navigator reported. "We're en route to the Tynnfred system."

"Excellent." Kerry stared emptily at the ceiling. "I'll be in my quarters. Number One, you have the bridge."

"Yes, sir," replied the first officer.

Silently Kerry stood up from the commodore's chair and ambulated thoughtfully off the bridge.

God help us all, indeed...

AlmasterGM · Post Post #1185 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 6:49 am

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to yet another exciting game of "Why is MagnaofIllusion still alive?!" We're excited to have you all as contestants today! Without further ado, here's how the game works:

Normally, MagnaofIllusion is dead very early in the game. This time, however, he's ... still alive.

Discuss and win a fabulous prize!

Also,

Vote: chesskid

.

Furry · Post Post #1186 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 7:34 am

AlmasterGM wrote:Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to yet another exciting game of "Why is MagnaofIllusion still alive?!" We're excited to have you all as contestants today! Without further ado, here's how the game works:

This is just about a record for me too. Last time I lived this long I was some stupid third party role that was painful to play.

Vote chess

Thor665 · Post Post #1187 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 8:27 am

My immediate gut is that I'd rather lynch MoI or Almaster over chess, I'm pretty sure chess is town.
I could do some vote analysis to see if my gut has any water, or I could claim laziness, have MoI yell at me, and wait for him to provide the vote count posts with Hackerscum worked in anyway

What to do, what to do...

camn · Post Post #1188 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 8:34 am

Re: chess: what would indicate that he was town?

Furtermore, if he WERE, what would indicate that he would do anything except lose the game for us if we hit lylo?

Thor665 · Post Post #1189 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 8:50 am

I recall calling him town yesterday after some exchanges we had wherein the logic looked more goofy than scummy to me.
We're likely a fair shake from lylo with three correct lynches, and that is a pretty silly reason to be advocating a lynch at this point.

camn · Post Post #1190 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 8:56 am

Your face is silly

Goofy is just as anti-town as scummy, wouldn't you say?
If someone uses craplogic, that sound like a problem for the town.

And I am not advocating at this point.. I am considering.

Thor665 · Post Post #1191 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 9:45 am

camn wrote:Goofy is just as anti-town as scummy, wouldn't you say?

No! Do you?
You appear to be distancing from this point already - am I that brilliant and intimidating as a debate opponent or were you advancing it as a weak 'just putting it out there' thought from the get go?

camn · Post Post #1192 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 11:09 am

Yes, I would say.

I think craplogic is craplogic, whether you think it is "scummy" (whatever that means) or not.
I think anti-town play should be met with the lynch. Especially since our vig is dead.
The fact is, chesskid has done nothing to make me think he is town. A point in his favor is that he has done nothing to make me think he is SCUM either. Truthfully, he has simply done NOTHING.

I am willing to lynch him on policy grounds alone. There is a 25% chance he might actually BE scum, but in my view, there is a 0% chance he will help the town win this game. And, since we are ahead, I think we can afford a policy lynch.

ALL THAT SAID

: I am totally willing to persue other options.
Like yourself, Thor. you are next on my list.
The Idea that MagofIllusion is a better lynch than chesskid makes my brain want to explode... you proposing it gets you massive scumpoints in my book. Especially given the WAY you presented it. Let us revisit it:

Thor665 wrote:My immediate gut is that I'd rather lynch MoI or Almaster over chess, I'm pretty sure chess is town.

YOu would rather lynch one of the most pro-town players over the most anti-town player BASED ON GUT??? If you are going to make that kind of claim, I need a case. AGM started it for you. Although I hate that argument.. it is better than the nothing you brought..and he even asked for discussion of the topic. Hmm.

Thor665 wrote:I could do some vote analysis to see if my gut has any water, or I could claim laziness, have MoI yell at me, and wait for him to provide the vote count posts with Hackerscum worked in anyway What to do, what to do...

Here you recognize that you are playing in a suboptimal way... all the while giving yourself an 'out' later on if your accusations don't take hold.
This is very, VERY wishy-washy, and not the way to get anyone lynched.

camn · Post Post #1193 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 12:03 pm

Spoiler: Final Votecounts by Day and Flip

SO... I put this^^ here for me, really.
NOw I want to dig into the HackerHuck wagon.

I voted him early based on VC analysis.. and MoI joined me. Furry also threw some weight in, but unvoted to try and quicklynch chesskid. (not a terrible idea)
I also pulled for neighbor-claims early, and got them, despite some pushback.... there was some inquiry as to WHY I wanted to know... which I delayed and delayed.. giving Hacker some rope. Some time to chat with his buddies in the QT kind of rope.

Then I delivered (1112, 1115) my analysis...Thad bought my case, Hacker argued a little bit,

THEN HE GAVE UP.

(1121)

The question I am asking my self is this:

What was going on in the scum QT when Hacker gave up?
Did he say "I'm gonna argue my way out of this, buddy... so just hold off on the bussing"
or did he say "Shit. I am fucked. Good luck with the rest of the game"

I think the second one.
And I think his buddy jumped right on the bus.

Furry seemed to pile on.. . but he had a vote on already.
Chesskid flipped from tunnelling me to voting

with

me, implicitly agreeing with my case while calling for my vigging. (1152 and 1153 are also relevant)
Thor drops the hammer.

----

My conclusion?

at least one Scum are in {Furry, Chesskid, THor }

I like

Furry

. I think Furry's play is good. But looking at yesterday alone is slightly scumtastic. Trying to dump the lynch onto chesskid at the last moment? slightly questionable IF CHESS IS TOWN (which is a big IF). We would really need a chessflip to decide that though. As it stands, he is the least likely of the three to be scum, imo.

Chess

I don't like. I think he is a detriment to the town regardless of alignment. I was leaning town on his predecessor IIRC, but as I said earlier, I would support a lynch here. In fact, the more I look at his play yesterday, the more I think he might actually be scum.. not just a bad player.

Thor

... thor could be scum. He didn't >quite< seem to muster enough Hacker-Hate to sound TOTALLY like a buss.. But he is certainly in the running. NOt as scummy as chess yesterday.. but today . . meh.

If I were the only one voting, I would eliminate these three.... in this order: chess/thor/furry.. until I hit scum. Then reevaluate.

Furry · Post Post #1194 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 12:44 pm

One of my favorite parts of the Slaxx/Chess slot is the pushing for vig lynch and acceptance for the vig killing the slot, until the RB died, followed promptly by the vig.

That and how chess went from not wanting a lynch of HH at all until the slot was doomed, and then deciding what his suspects were pushing was the best lynch

camn · Post Post #1195 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 12:58 pm

I forgot about HH being a roleblocker!

Note to self: no actual DIRECTED vig of scum was possible this game. Only directed town-vigs.
Any discussion of directed vigging should be revisited with this in mind....

scum-motivation is fully solidified in re: directing vig kills.

Lets see if I can find any...

AlmasterGM · Post Post #1196 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 1:09 pm

camn wrote:I forgot about HH being a roleblocker!

Note to self: no actual DIRECTED vig of scum was possible this game. Only directed town-vigs.
Any discussion of directed vigging should be revisited with this in mind....

scum-motivation is fully solidified in re: directing vig kills.

Lets see if I can find any...

If this exists, it'll be solid GOLD.

I'm going to go comb MoI. I know he's clever enough to evade VCA, but maybe he slipped up in there.

AlmasterGM · Post Post #1197 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 1:10 pm

...except I click on his iso and all the posts are a fuckin mile long. MAYBE I'll do it.

Furry · Post Post #1198 (ISO) » Mon Dec 27, 2010 1:27 pm

Im like 90% sure CES did some vig directing at some point, he is the only one I can remember doing that however

camn · Post Post #1199 (ISO) » Tue Dec 28, 2010 6:53 am

hmm.

I slept on it.. and its not a hole in one. There could be some town-motivation to it too.
Plus it would only work for scum if it were totally a sure thing. THey didn't bother to block the vig at all anyway.

Which brings me back to the VCA on the Hackerwagon.

does anyone dispute my timeline re: it? You can almost taste when Hacker is defeated in his posts.. he

had

to have mentioned it to his partner, right?