| Author
(Nickame
& tag Discord)
|
Date |
Story
|
| Wolfer | Cyber Hunter | Keara
(Wolfer#3364)
|
Week 1:
18/03/2022
20/03/2022
|
The chip in her forearm was still throbbing, though not as much as it did in first minutes after Mimir's return. The headmaster who disappeared there with Sera Varse's group survived, but something was wrong... Keara blew a loose strand of hair from her face and stepped inside the shuttle. She had to get there and figure out what was wrong.
- What the hell? - Federation's agent sitting at the helm jumped up, then froze instantly, stopped by the dagger whizzed near his ear.
- What are you doing here? - He added more quietly. - I paid you credits for the shuttle, the ship is mine. If you're here because of those rumors… It wasn't me who started them.
- I don't care about rumors, - Keara sat down in the copilot's chair and fastened her belts. - Though no, I do care. You will answer for your actions. But later. Right now I need to get to Mimir, and you’ll take me there, Mydrec.
- May I ask why? - He sat down and started shuttle's engines.
Keara turned away, signaling that the conversation was over. The chip in her hand was transmitting exact coordinates of its double, but instead of usual vital signs of the one who had it, showed completely different data...
They weren't far from the destination when Crimson Wolves sent a message to Keara's receiver: "Two parties to Mimir. Urgent. Double price". She frowned and closed her eyes, trying to piece together all available information. The last shipment of the healing potion to pirates was just month ago, and it was quite large then, so what the hell? Why were they on Mimir when half of the Universal Council's fleet was in that system? Open fight couldn’t be considered, since the outcome would be predetermined, which means they needed the potion to heal some non-combat wounds. Consequently, Crimson Wolves were planning something else, something dangerous, but for which they were ready to risk their lives.
- Unidentified shuttle, stop your engines and identify yourself, - a hoarse voice over the loudspeaker snapped her out of her thoughts.
- Federation's Special Agent Mydrec, ID number TR99OLL.
- Checking in progress, hold on. How many people there are on board? A scan will be conducted after data is confirmed.
Mydrec looked at Keara and raised his eyebrows questioningly. It was about two thousand kilometers to Mimir. Too far for her teleporting skills - at least two leaps were necessary, but she needed a foothold in space... Several small objects appeared on the radar – probably asteroids - just halfway between their location and Mimir. Keara glanced at Mydrec, shook her head, and headed to the shuttle’s back. Luckily she brought quite a big amount of potion with her - something to show up to the Crimson Wolves with. It was prepared for headmaster, but if pirates were there too, better to find out first what they were up to and act with that in mind.
- I'm alone, - was the last thing she heard before teleported away.
|
| Jupiter_ᶠᵈ Primus Pilus
(Intermatrixnaut#1742)
|
Week 2:
25/03/2022
27/03/2022
|
ID: 9E04.02.2022
Name: Gryphyn SkyCastle
Faction: Empire
Position: Consul
Contact: @Jupiter_ᶠᵈ Primus Pilus
Location: Kepler 737b
Magnus Supply TropoDepot - Command Chair -
Part 3: Gaea Influx Gryphyn SkyCastle sat in his "SkyChair" assessing the situation on Gaea via his remote instruments that gave him unique insights on the quantum disturbance brewing in the bowels and brains of Esau and Iza.
Seemingly one is a cathode and another is an anode, and one seems over-hyped while one remains more dormant. It is fascinating to watch his instruments in full flux as he records the exchange between the aether and the quantum matrix.
Filigrees and tributaries, non-random data streams coalesce into a boson-blossom, a benign definition from the new brotherhood bound in the Union Iso-Chambers so very far away.
Even an inkling of what's really going on would give the Emperor a new angle on how to handle the developing situation. He should make his report soon, since his rapport is more than cordial.
|
| Wolfer | Cyber Hunter | Keara
(Wolfer#3364)
|
Week 3:
01/04/2022
03/04/2022
|
Part 4.
Instead of the stone surface of the asteroid under her feet was the flat floor of the space shuttle. Keara quickly looked around, no one was nearby and she relaxed. So those dots on the radar that she thought were asteroids were not of natural origin at all. She needed to make one more teleportation jump to get to Mimir, but first it was worth looking around to see whose shuttle it was.
All of the ships in the Core Systems had their own registration numbers, which were broadcast on the radar frequency and displayed on the screen when they came within scanning range. But this shuttle was not listed in the system, which meant it belonged to either smugglers or pirates. Keara had worked with both for a long time and wasn't worried about that. Moreover she could get from them new information about what was happening on Mimir. The chip in her forearm was barely a bother, which meant her Master was safe, his vitals fluctuating within acceptable limits. There was no hurry.
Keara fastened the Crimson Wolves badge on her shoulder, which served as a pass to any pirate ship, took her blaster off the safety catch, and cautiously walked down the corridor in search of the ship's crew. Everything around was quite old, but all the machinery seemed to be working properly. The ship's helm was covered in a worn and nearly faded Federation sign. But there was no sign of life - not a single human... The situation was getting even stranger. The Federation was technologically advanced and if such kind of ships had ever been in its fleet, they were probably had been scrapped long ago.
In the very corner of the room, Keara saw a door hidden in the half-darkness. As she approached, it slid aside, revealing a room flooded with faint light. A huge window was opening a view of space, with Mimir standing in front of it like a big red ball. There was a low squeak and Keara shuddered. She saw a cryo-capsule against the wall, its sensors making the sound. Keara stepped closer and sighed in surprise: there was a man lying inside the capsule. From the data on the screen, it was obvious that he was alive and about to awaken. The stranger's name - Vigors - was written on the patch of his clothes.
She had to leave the ship before that man awakens from cryo-sleep. The Crimson Wolves were waiting for their order, there was no point in lingering any longer. Keara prepared for the teleportation jump, but then she noticed the bottles on the shelf next to the capsule with the blue liquid shimmering in the light. She'd never seen anything like it before - perhaps it was something from the Federation's developments. She took a couple of vials from the shelf and tucked them away in her pocket - it would be worth studying their contents later. Keara looked around once more - there was nothing else in the room that interested her. She closed her eyes, focused on the transfer point and teleported away.
|
| Doc O.B | Custodian
#7623
|
Week 4:
08/04/2022
10/04/2022
|
Name: Doc O.B
Faction: Federation
Position: Emergency Response (medical)
Data entry : Federation Joint Command Report : Active Deployment Status Report-3
We didn’t have to wait long, before the alarms started to blare.. We were ready, as soon as the Crimson Wolves appear on long range radar, Xo marched in and told us to get ready for planet fall… We were directed to a hangar bay, ship’s corridor were all red with alert lights, everybody was running for battle stations.. The ship that was waiting for us is not cargo ship, but an orbital rapid deployment ship used by mostly marines for insertion to hostile planets to establish beachheads.. That was the first sign that ride to surface was going to be a fun ride, probably lots of screaming and tossing around… I already get my Narthecium and started shooting some combat stimulants and pain killers to the team while the boarding door was closing… and launched to a space full of light, death and destruction, c-beams glittered in dark, attack ships was on fire on the horizon, and we were diving hard on a step angle, made me think if we would bounce off the atmosphere, but our pilots were also chosen for this mission as we were.. Xo was trying to brief us, with all the mayhem going around us, his voice was a steel anchor, that hold us tight.. We were here to protect not just the Cradle, but the science teams especially Professor Cameron Reyes, who was in charge. The last transmission from Uc was to transmit all the data back to Ignis station, and we were here to make that happen. The objectives were clear enough, but as we hit the ground all was chaos.. The scientist were trying to sent the data, Prof Reyes was there, and they were trying to retreat back to caves.. and we did what we should, grunts formed a defensive picket around, while Xo and our teams scientist helped the data transfer, and I tried my best with the organizing the retreat back to caves.. When we conformed the data transfer , we all retreated back to caves.. Xo told us our last order “Denial of all Assets at all costs”.. Yeah guess i was right about my gut feeling, nothing felt like a one way mission, maybe this was the one that would retire me for good…
|
| paroler I Union hijacker
(paroler#4665)
|
Week 5:
15/04/2022
17/04/2022
|
The kick on my shoe made me open my eyes. Trying to focus them on the bright silhouette, I almost threw up. I was sitting in the alley, two empty bottles of moonshine lying beside me. "If I'm drinking this, it's not good," crawled in my splitting head. I looked at Sicko Rai and tried to send him away, but all I heard was a whistle from his mouth, where a pack of stray cats seemed to be sleeping. Some object flew into his hands. The first two sips of water from the bottle soaked into my tongue like the first desert rain of the summer, and I came alive. "Thank's," I mumbled.
The last time I saw him was three weeks, two girlfriends and four rentals ago. In that time, I'd skipped almost all my money. Helped me along by new friends who disappeared after a treat, ladies who ran off in the morning. Also my stupidity and recklessness, which Sico Rai used to channel in the right direction. "Come on, there's a case. My treat!" - And I jumped up, ready for anything.
Getting into his fancy car (with a spectacular deer on the hood), which I had stolen from a consul, we raced toward the harbor bars. We drove by the hangars and launch pads. The Imperial ships stood out for their beauty and sophistication, the Federal ones with the latest developments in interstellar flight. The others were all different, and I was proud to recognize the ones I knew how to fly. Sico wanted to retrain as a space hijacker, but with the introduction of the death penalty for that, he quickly changed his mind. But I managed to master some of the models.
After parking outside the Tortuga Bar, we walked into the darkness and made our way to the bar. "Where's the Jackal?" - Sico asked the barman. Opening the door behind, the barman handed me two mugs of light beer and one dark beer. I stepped into the office, where at a table with empty mugs, sat a burly man in a black flight suit. Jealous of his appetite, I put the mugs on the table. When I sat to his left, I noticed a badge with a red wolf on it. The Jackal was studying me. Looked at Sico, who nodded. I sat, dreaming of my first sip of beer. The man leafed through his comm and asked: "Class 3C-2750?" Realizing I was being asked, I nodded accordingly. "Assault 5V-3000?" - the next question after scrolling the comm. "Any whim for your money!" - I dared myself, realizing I was in an interview. And greedily took my first sip of the dark one. "How did they know I like dark?" - I suddenly thought. "I paid my debt to Jackal, we're even," Sico voiced. "Good luck, kid! It'll do you good. Sorry, it's just business. Nothing personal," he said to me. "What a bitch..." - Before I knew it, the story began.
|
| Boris | pilot/mercenary
(Борис#2975)
|
Week 6:
22/04/2022
24/04/2022
|
Name: Boris
Faction: Federation
Position: Pilot/Mercenary
Previous chapter 9: https://discord.com/channels/806492951626776606/963519325203992667/964754607551160370
I had to spend the night in the med bay, though: DOC medbot poured several liters of saline into my body with various metabolic boosting fluids and vitamins, everything I needed for a "growing body"! M.A.T .A .S. was not left out and, having found nurse's skin in her libraries, sat next to the capsule and pretended to wipe the invisible sweat from my forehead, so I made another mental note: something must be done about it, or she was playing around. In the morning I was as good as new, and the first thing I did, having restored the temperature in the airlock, was to throw the stiffened corpses of pirates overboard, and myself went to Mimir. I waited until the bodies had thawed, arranged them according to their height, and stripped the tallest of them, hoping that I could fit into his overalls and pass for one of my own in a pack of Crimson Wolves. Then it was a small matter: to arm myself and sneak into the caves, to find artifact without betraying themselves and not to die - easier than to take away the credits for breakfast from the cadet!
The evening air was pleasantly cold on my skin, and I relaxed a little, as much as I loved flying, but sometimes being under the open sky and breathing unsynthesized, tasteless oxygen, but real air was just bliss! The glider shortened the distance easily, and beyond the next hill I should have seen the descent to the foot of the entrance to caves. I looked up and hit the brakes hard; sky above the mountains was scarred with hundreds of inversion tracks, like a whip-cut back with rippling purple scars. So pirates had decided to leave Mimir.
The evening air was pleasantly cold on my skin, and I relaxed a little, as much as I loved flying, but sometimes being under the open sky and breathing unsynthesized, tasteless oxygen, but real air was just bliss! The glider shortened the distance easily, and beyond the next hill I should have seen the descent to the foot of the entrance to caves. I looked up and hit the brakes hard; sky above the mountains was scarred with hundreds of inversion tracks, like a whip-cut back with rippling purple scars. So pirates had decided to leave Mimir.
I felt myself going deeper underground when the walls of the cave suddenly rushed up and to the sides, and I clutched my eyes, stunned by the glow emanating from the Cradle. The artifact filled the entire underground grotto and pulsed as if it were pulsating, glowing with runes unknown to me on its surface. A hard blow to the back of my head threw me to the stone floor, someone piled on top of me and pinned me down with the barrel between my shoulder blades. "Professor! I've got the pirate, get everybody over here quick!" - came a young, unfamiliar voice right over my ear. The stomp of many feet was drowned in the increased throbbing of the Cradle, and a flash of light squirted and flooded all around-the world went out.
|
| Boris | pilot/mercenary
(Борис#2975)
|
Week 7:
29/04/2022
01/05/2022
|
Chapter 11
We live between earth and sky!
We need dead space beyond!
We don't know our future!
The ship's cabin is our home from now on!
"Stand up!" The sergeant's voice like a pincer rips me from the clutches of sleep and makes me jump up from my bunk and stretch out at the same time trying to comprehend what's going on around me. "All rise! Ten-hut!". I got into the training camp a week after I graduated from the cadet corps and we were immediately taken in. The Federation strictly marshals and cradles "chicks", as they call those who are trained to be pilots. We had hardly slept for days, and "The Dog", as we nicknamed the sergeant behind his back for the fact that he was like a spiteful dog on a chain, attacking everybody and shouting his guts out, made our lives unforgettable! Captain Grad walks into the barracks, marching to his feet, and "The Dog," also at attention, reports, "Captain, the personnel of the training corps have been formed and are ready to carry out orders!"
"Hiya, chicks!" - The old Captain's sultry voice finally brings them to their senses. "Long life!" - I yelled in unison with my comrades in misfortune. "At ease!" - walking slowly between the lines of recruits Grad continued - "You have already learned that this is not a cadet corps and you will not be wiped with snot! Here you will be made pilots, the elite among military men, the true defenders of the borders of the Federation! For the next three years I am your King and God, and only I will decide whether you come out of here qualified and ready for anything professionals or leave in disgrace with a kick in the ass! The jokes are over!" He frowned at our faces - "Each of you voluntarily made the decision to become a pilot knowing that you would have to undergo a body upgrade and give up the past! Today is the day! See you on the other side!" Grad turned around and marched toward the exit, while the Sergeant yelled, "Attention! To the right! Forward march!"
After six hours of grueling training and a hearty but almost tasteless lunch of protein-carbohydrate mixture, we were given an hour of free time before surgery. I rolled onto my bunk and contemplated her image - Masha smiled mischievously and waved at me from my palm. "Your girlfriend?" - The guy in the next bunk looked at me questioningly. I nodded. "You realize you won't remember her afterwards, a pilot can't live in the past!" I nodded again, and disabling the holograph, cleverly built into my personal badge before I left the Artel, put the chain around my neck. The sergeant's shout again caught me off guard - "Godunov, to the med bay on the run! . I rolled over onto my back with difficulty, my head was splitting open, people in white coats and apparently unconscious were lying all around me. The cradle towered over me, almost resting against the vault of the cave. I fumbled for the token around my neck and activated the halograph, the image of the girl from the dream waving to me! "Masha, I remembered everything!" ...
|
| (HG) Xaviar | Venture Hunter
(AlbertoLCA#3345)
|
Week 8:
06/05/2022
08/05/2022
|
Name: Xaviar de Zwerver
Faction: Federation
Position: Venture Hunter for HG Corp
Previous chapter: https://discord.com/channels/806492951626776606/968589558432280617/970399517864259664
Metals VarCorp's headquarters was housed in an impressive metal alloy building. Although it was to be expected, considering they mined and refined metal, it still looked like a luxurious version of a military bunker.
The heavy doors opened to let me and my captor through. I was still handcuffed, but at least my belongings, including my protective clothing and concealed weapons, had not been removed, which gave me to understand that something very strange was going on.
Four guards escorted us to the presidential lounge, where the current President of the company was waiting for us with two other bodyguards.
- Excellent. Your reputation is more than justified - the President was young, but he had an old-fashioned look and a flattering tone. He looked towards one of his bodyguards, but Markusz's voice interrupted him.
- When you pay me the remaining half, I will give you the information Xaviar had gathered about you. And something you will be interested to know - he remarked sharply.
Immediately, the President motioned to his guards with a raised palm, for them to wait. His tone now was totally different, like the hiss of a Varangian snake. It exuded equal parts curiosity and menace.
- Pay him. The tension could be cut with a knife as we waited for a protocol droid to come and make the arrangements for payment, which was authorized by voice command by the President. I was astonished to learn how many credits my head had been worth.
- Here is the information-he transferred it to the protocol droid from his holocomm-. Now you can try what you had planned with me, finishing the loose ends of your plan. But first you'll be interested to know that before I got here I sent the information to the federal Skjaldmö.
The President's mask fell off, revealing the hate-filled monster he was as he shouted:
- KILL THEM! DROIDS, ACTIVATION, COMMAND...
But the bounty hunter fired first. As I dove for cover, I saw the dart go into the President's neck and he collapsed like a sack before he could finish speaking. I remembered Yukteswar's words: that weapon certainly had too much neurotoxin in it, well above legal levels.
Three K-9200-type assassin droids were activated, but without the president's command being completed, they did not start firing at us. Those that did were the guards and it was clear that they were well trained, for they struck the bounty hunter's armor as he jumped into the same cover I had found.
- Cover your ears and close your eyes- he told me and I obeyed an instant before all hell broke loose with the arrival of the federal Skjaldmö. The glass windows imploded with the thunder and blinding flash of a pulse grenade and, from the windows, a squad on hovercrafts began firing their suppressive shock rifles at the blinded bodyguards.
It was all over in seconds.
- Luckily you are no drug dealer- Markusz laughed.
|
| Boris | pilot/mercenary
(Борис#2975)
|
Week 9:
13/05/2022
15/05/2022
|
Chapter 13
Turquoise, not blue or green, but turquoise, like the little pearls we used to get from the shells we lifted from the bottom of the sea when we were kids. My mother told me that special sea microorganisms that live in the water accumulate in the mollusk and cover its treasure with a delicate turquoise coating that makes the pearl so beautiful and valuable. But in all my wanderings, I have yet to encounter a planet that shines with such incredible color. And here I am, looking out of the Andromeda deckhouse at the slowly sprawling Artel behind the porthole, my home, my turquoise planet. Artel is one of the first habitable planets discovered during the great expansion. In light of the rapidly expanding human habitat, it became a transshipment point for technical, food and human resources, so we jokingly called our planet HOTEL. A huge network of different spaceports covered both the surface itself and the orbit, and if you were not born on this planet, there was nothing to keep you on it, and the local young guys and girls quickly scattered to other planets, some to study and some to work.
"M.A.T .A .S., calculate and set the coordinates for landing in the indicated sector!" - I gave the order and sat comfortably in the berth. In an hour we would be entering the atmosphere, and in the meantime we could enjoy the view while reminiscing. "Captain, why didn't you want to land in a spaceport or an orbital station? You could have avoided all the red tape involved in getting permission to land outside the customs zone!" "Eh, M.A.T .A .S.! You wouldn't understand anyway!" - I thought to myself. Ever since I got my memory back, all I can think about is whether they are alive-the ones I loved and left behind. I didn't make an inquiry to the information center and find out, because I want to knock on the door and find out in person. The inversion trail from Andromeda cut the sky in half; quickly descending to the surface, we were flying over the green morass of the forest, with only occasional hills and small mountains rising among the myriad trees. The M.A.T .A .S. had planted Andromeda on a plateau not far from the house where I grew up. Twenty-five years later, I set foot on my home planet again. Noisily breathing in the air, I happily stretched out, standing in the light of the setting sun: I'm home!
I rode the glider straight ahead, the sun was almost down, and the forest seemed mysterious and enigmatic. The sweetness of the forest air made me a little dizzy, so I pushed the throttle to the limit. The forest ended and grass and flowers scattered under the belly of the glider. At the very edge of the field appeared a small lake with a house by the shore and wooden bridges going deep. "Please be there! Be alive!" - I whispered, squeezing the gas all the way down.
|
| Mydrec | Special Agent
Mydrec#5978
|
Week 10:
20/05/2022
22/05/2022
|
This is fish number six hundred and forty-one in my life. My parents bought me my first fish to teach me how to love and and care for another living and breathing creature of God. Six hundred forty fish later, all I know is that everything you love will die. Chuck Palahniuk, "Survivor."
I remembered the quote from the novel while traveling to another station on behalf of the Federation. And then I immersed myself in memories of my home planet of Caesarea, where the balance of nature and harmony were developed like nowhere else.
Take, for example, the same flowers of Luns. By day, they were bluish closed buds 30-40 centimeters long, which caused no admiration. But as night fell, they unfolded in all their glory. The bright blue petals, slightly glowing in the night, made you feel like you were looking at a glowing lake rather than a field of flowers. But this beauty was deadly: the pollen released by these flowers was poisonous to humans, and only certain species of local fauna were allowed to "swim" among these flowers.
But in the jungle you could meet small animals, up to 15 centimeters. They somewhat resembled lizards, even with their movements, but they had a distinctive feature unique to them - big black eyes without pupils. But the thing is that if you meet the eyes of this animal and look intently into them for a few seconds, they begin to change their color. And if you ask me to explain what exactly this looks like, the only thing that comes to mind is if you pour an oily liquid into a puddle, and under sunlight it begins to shimmer in a spectrum of colors. This is how these animals hunted, mesmerizing and hypnotizing their prey.
My favorite among the animals was the Tigrod. These are massive beasts two meters tall, resembling cats. The peculiarity of these animals was that their body was covered with something like scales, plates, but very small in size. In case of danger, their plates closed so tightly that it seemed as if their skin was covered with a layer of metal, not a single gap or gap in protection. This feature of their skin was the prototype for some Federation suits. It did not inhibit their movements, and in case of danger, the strength of the suits increased many times over.
"Fifteen minutes to destination, sir." - ARCHI said and distracted me from the flood of memories. Memories are memories, but right now I need to concentrate on the task at hand: reconnaissance combat.
|
| Boris | pilot/mercenary
(Борис#2975)
|
Week 11:
27/05/2022
29/05/2022
|
Chapter 15
The sand slowly flowed between my fingers and, shrinking heavily in the wind, gathered as a pile on the palm of my hand. The brightest stars still twinkled overhead, and the edge of the sky, maintaining the insistent gloom of night, sank as if under the weight of gravity into the cold abyss of the ocean, at the very edge of the earth. The waves were rolling against the shore, pushing the edge of the foam closer and closer, and the foam hissed as it struggled to cling to the debris tossed on the sand. Oscar snoozed beside him, paws tucked under him and sniffling softly, only his perched ears living their lives, picking up the slightest sounds around him.
"Is this what you were dreaming of, Captain?" - the voice from the handheld communicator sounded extremely surprised, "Water, sand, and that redheaded, short-fingered misunderstanding you call a friend?!" "Bear with me a minute longer, M.A.T.A.S.!" - I leaned back on my elbows and stretched my bare feet into the cautiously approaching water. Over the past twenty years, M.A.T.A.S. had gone from an ordinary AI built into Andromeda to a full-fledged member of the team, bailing me out of trouble more than once. Shootouts, chases, fights and participation in military conflicts, everything in my life screamed that it would end badly, but contrary to common sense I lived and cherished my dream: a small tropical planet at the very edge of the galaxy, where there are no wars, hunger, and people in general, but only a quiet paradise for me and those whom I love!
The dark horizon slowly turned scarlet, thinning to disappear in the pink haze of sunrise. As the edge of the sun rose over the water, my new world flashed like a shiny fuselage. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, catching the cautious, first rays on my face, "Can you see now? A beautiful woman in a lightweight flight suit stepped out from behind the trees and headed in my direction. As she approached, she sat down on the sand beside me and rested her head on my shoulder: "Meeting your first sunrise alone?" "Actually," came an annoyed voice from the communicator, "I'm here too, figuratively!" We laughed amicably, and Oscar immediately turned up his sleepy, sand-stained face and looked at us disapprovingly, then rolled over onto his back and stuck his tongue out, foolishly "smiling." "So this is your dream," Masha gazed fondly into my eyes, "And what do you think we should call our new home?" I stood up and gave her a hand: "You know, I thought a lot about it, and I decided that I will name this planet Earth! We lost our world once before, so let me find it here with you!" "In that case, Mr. Galactian Marshal, show me your domain!" - Smiling, Masha took my hand, and we headed in the direction of Andromeda, towering above the trees.
|
| Andecaros | Primus Pilus
Andecaros#8187
|
Week 12:
03/06/2022
05/06/2022
|
Quest Star in appearance order: @QuestLog | QLFC Overlord (enemy fun club) @Deg3n3ro | Consul (Commander) @signo (First Officer) @Paola SevenBrains (Pilot)
Even if the coup against Emperor Solas had failed, its aftermath was going on until it was annoying. The hunt for the survivors and now fugitives of @QuestLog | QLFC Overlord was relentless. The squadron to which I had been assigned proceeded in the formation called a hexagonal sail; practically every ship was the node of a network of sensors. During a flight in normal space, any object larger than one cubic meter would be detected and analyzed; now unfortunately things were different. Through the wide angle of maneuver, the spectacle that presented itself to our eyes was something that not even neural simulations had accustomed me to seeing. Star-sized vortices of energy floating at the edge of the three-dimensional continuum, agitated by fractures and hyperspace anomalies caused by the five-dimensional weapons of battlecruisers; in the midst of this hell, rivers of incandescent plasma ionized the masses of gas. -Tactician- Commander @Deg3n3ro | Consul shook me with his call. He was the scion of a minor noble family not eager to prove his military prowess and more eager to return to his courtly and lascivious intrigues
-Give me any bearing, even if it's just a wreck- The enemy ships in that sector were very concentrated; according to what @signo had communicated to us, it was certainly possible that some units, although taken by surprise, had managed to survive the attack account. The very structure of space, distorted and torn apart, created continuous quantum fluctuations, so our dynamic shields were forced to continuously compensate the frequency, to remain in counterphase with respect to the anomalies that otherwise would have dismembered us. -There is a large mass of debris- @Paola SevenBrains echoed - and the anomalies make the gravitic tracking discontinuous, Commander. On the bridge, I felt the tension as if a block of marble had replaced the same air we breathed. - Explosion detection - I suddenly shouted. -Thirty-five sarc, direction one three nine- confirmed @Paola SevenBrains . -Is it an energy weapon? - asked the commander @Deg3n3ro | Consul - Affirmative Sir. Here's another one ... Thirty-nine sarc, identical vector.
The main navigation screen showed a scenario very similar to the one around us. -Looks like a robotic defense probe, Sir- I said Our fleet's attack must have damaged his computer, and now he's opening fire on anything that comes within range of his weapons. -Do I order the fighting post?- @signo discreetly leaned towards the command post. @Deg3n3ro | Consul shook his head. The sensor analysis seemed to confirm the accuracy of the deductions; the orders were only to clear the area of any danger, and the precaution suggested by @signo seemed excessive. -Tactician, battery one on target- it was my turn -A half-power save. Automatically I prepared the coordinates on the target, then the eyes turned to the commander @Deg3n3ro | Consul who pronounced those syllables in a low voice, without taking his eyes off the navigation wide angle. -Fire.
|
| Boris | pilot/mercenary
(Борис#2975)
|
Week 13:
10/06/2022
12/06/2022
|
Chapter 17
The surface of Helios could not be called hospitable: for many kilometers around the place where I had landed Andromeda stretched dry, cracked and lifeless earth, more like the slag from the blast furnace of the Forge Worlds. The coordinates I had received from Sergei led me here, and, leaving my ship behind, I moved to the glider to scout the area around me discreetly to make sure there was no ambush. As I shortened the distance to the point from which the message was received, in a downward spiral, I scrutinized every rock for the presence of sentient beings. The dim disc of the pale sun still hung on the horizon, and any protrusions on the surface cast long shadows, and the dry, hot wind clogged the fine, rocky dust in every crevice of my overalls. Even a respirator did not save him from an incipient cough in his chest, a man without special equipment could not live long on a volcanic planet, at least the sensors of seismic activity were silent. Reflecting on the recent events in the Main Systems, I thought that there is something worthwhile in the traditions of the Union, something that even representatives of the Empire and the Federation are willing to take advantage of! This Mercer is no shyster, if he had the courage to perform the Rite and challenge Valkyrie Breen to a deadly duel, I would like to see it, but will the bureaucrats in the Council have the guts to do such a thing?!
I found Icarus lying at the bottom of the funnel, according to the telemetry there was no life on board, so Sergei really is dead, or it's just another trick! In the Navy this weirdo played tricks on his comrades-in-arms more than once: he put glue on the glass from the inside of the helmet, so that the captain stuck to the glass with his mustache, and then he chased us till the seventh sweat, then he launched a virus into the software for internal data transfer that inserts mat with every word, and the headquarters receives reports that are more like the speech of a Tourette's syndrome patient, in general it was a real fruit. But I did owe him a debt of gratitude, and here I am. I left the glider twenty meters away, took the RG-5 out of its holster, and put it in firing mode. The gaping holes in the Icarus' hull left no doubt that this was no simple accident. After circling the ship, I finally found the entrance to the airlock and, taking a deep breath, typed a command on the panel. The servos grunted as if they were chewing gravel and dragged the doors to the sides. Sergey was standing right outside the threshold, smirking, looking at me: "Hello, Boris! I see you have questions. Dumbfounded, I just stared at my old friend for a few seconds, when something elusive made me raise my gun and point it at Sergei: "Who the hell are you?!" The figure of the former coworker rippled, and a voice came from my communicator, "Captain! You won't believe it, but he's just like me!" ...
|
| qazzaq [MERCY]
(qazzaq#7146)
|
Week 14:
17/06/2022
19/06/2022
|
Name: Michael Tres
Faction: Federation
Role: Rifleman - Spaceborne Scout
His gaze was riveted by the picture of destruction that enveloped the planet Calderis and the entire spatial sector - the first battle groups of the Red Corps fleet were met by Imperial warships that were making a manoeuvre of attack against Commander Tres' fighters, He decided to take over the entire system and plant his flag on another planet, increasing his fleet and personnel at the expense of the caring citizens of the Empire, who were tired of the oppression of corporations and local feudal lords, who took possession of sectors and planets, not knowing how to rule them. The only criterion for receiving such a gift is eternal loyalty to the Emperor and the consortium of corporations.
The Empire's small battle fleet was forced to retreat to the far reaches of Calderis while waiting for reinforcements to arrive from the other side of the system, where battles raged between the multiple factions of mercenaries who once fought for the Union faction and were loyal terrorist forces accredited by the Universal Council under Union pressure. Not so long ago these mercenaries were known for their brutality against Federation citizens, resulting in thousands of deaths and tens of thousands of injuries. The Empire's small group of forces that retreated were forced to orbit the planet Calderis and land their ships in an emergency to avoid the deadly clash with the forces of Michael Tres, who was speeding toward the badly beaten imperial fleet.
- Destroy these traitors! Fire on the armada with all weapons! - shouted Commander Tres.
This battle was bloodthirsty. The Imperial forces were not going to surrender, they were ramming against Tres's large ships, not sparing their lives. All weapons were used: from small cannons to large rocket launchers that fired thousands of missiles per minute, destroying the hulls of the ships and causing fires inside the ships, burning the entire crew in a heartbeat. In two hours of gruelling combat, the imperial forces were defeated. The fleet's flagship aircraft carrier, the Pelican, was only destroyed by the fire of four Yamato cruisers, which pierced the ship's stern with their cannons and caused a deck fire that incinerated a fair portion of the equipment. The remnants of the Pelican have landed on a war-torn planet, where Union mercenaries, regular Imperial Guard troops, rebellious radicals, and Red Corps pirates have set out to conquer the planet and establish a new galactic Republic for free men, free of the prejudices of the old world.
The Red Corps troops had already managed to enter the planet's surface and had a veritable bombardment by landing pods, the strike force of Michael Trace's troops, led by their leader in his power armor.
|
| qazzaq [MERCY]
(qazzaq#7146)
|
Week 15:
24/06/2022
26/06/2022
|
Name: Michael Tres
Faction: Federation
Role: Rifleman - Spaceborne Scout
Calderis was the central planet of a small sector of the Empire, where large research and military complexes were built, where recently imperial subjects conducted scientific work and military experiments with modern weapons. Now, however, the planet is engulfed in the chaos of civil war into four warring factions that seek control of the central planet of the system.
The skies of Calderis were filled with hundreds of landing pods of the Red Corps, the pirate fleet of former Federation Armed Forces officer Michael Tres. Soldiers of fortune, revolutionaries, and simple adventurers who sided with the rebellious idealist officer raised the bayonets of their rifles to protect the citizens of Calderis, a planet that was torn by war between local rebel factions, the Imperial Guard, and mercenary thugs working for the Alliance. Now Michael Tres was faced with the task of crushing the resistance and establishing the power of his pirates on the planet.
Michael Trace's fighters, supported by his air and space forces, took control of the central highways, life support and power generation complexes, cutting off their opponents from all the benefits of modern civilization, thus paralyzing many civilian areas of the protesters and causing real devastation in the rear of the enemies of the Red Corps, which in operational mode continued to capture strategically important positions, while the sky of the planet was free of enemy ships.
Within hours of fierce fighting, the Tres Red Corps successfully captured 90% of the communications, subdued planetary defense systems, and secured a landing corridor for permanent reinforcements from the fleet.
Tres soldiers and commanders successfully subdued large groups of civilians who saw the new pirates of modernity as their saviors. The subjugation of the planet was only hours away, at the end of which Michael Tres would announce the creation of a New Republic in the vast human galaxy, a home for the millions of refugees who had fled from the authorities of the three factions in the hope of finding their new home.
And now, when Tres is about to rule the new galactic state consisting of three planet-states forming a peculiar triumvirate, the Red Corps commander is faced with a new question - how to protect his conquests, how to save his followers and how to make sure that the new state will not fall under the blows of foreign and domestic enemies.
Whether to expect the New Republic to fall and be destroyed, just as the Solar System was destroyed, whose fall is still a mystery to many historians and scientists after five hundred years. Maybe the planets of the Sun were destroyed by the emergence of a new destructive force, like the one Michael Tres got his hands on.
Can Michael Tres sacrifice himself and his ideals, destroying the assets of scientific and technological progress, or ancient artifacts, like modern anomalies, enemy fleets by destroying the main star of the system, capable of destroying many thousands of fleets and billions of worlds in the system.
|
| Fabio l - Z'ion Jinx Ω
(Fabio l - Z'ion Jinx Ω#4044)
|
Week 16:
01/07/2022
03/07/2022
|
Name: Z’ion Jinx
Faction: Federation
Position: Paramilitary Special Agent
INTERSPATIAL INTRIGUE
Paolo had called an urgent meeting in Omega Agency (Ω), upon entering I saw Paolo facing the window, thoughtful and agitated, I sat in silence waiting for the others, shortly afterwards Matt, Captain Victor Monreau and his gunner Sjon Dacray arrived, only Infolowy was missing, who came running in with his Pad under his arms. At that point Paolo turned sharply and uttered these words, "We have stumbled upon a well-organized plot , from the data you recovered in Sera's lair and the information about the attack reported by Monreau, known names from both the federation and the union were found, the only good thing is that no one from the empire took part."
Infolowy activated the Pad, holographic screens activated showing data collected from the investigation and a report of data pulled from Sera's servers and more recovered from cyberspace.
It read names such as, Ixtlanian the seer whom we had already captured, Federation renegade Michael Tres, Cyber Hunter Wolfer, Doc O.B called The Snake, not to mention the involvement of Sera Varse and Lycanis Montez.
From what we knew Sera and Montez had recruited the others to carry out what would be an interspatial intrigue designed to subvert the power of the council. We know that Sera was acting with the purpose of saving the entire Galaxy, but Montez and the others were working to wipe out the power of the council, working behind Sera's back while they were helping her, they were interested in the new discoveries in order to seize them first.
Ixtlanian with his powers and Michael Tres men had taken away the solid quantum, helped also by Wolfer who had penetrated the Ignis station's protection systems. Doc O.B was their remembering a spy who had removed data important to the success of their plan.
Once they helped Sera recover the solid Quantum, they began separate operations designed to destabilize the council. Michael Tres attacked Calderis who was in the hands of the Empire to acquire new weapons and troops to deploy in the near future. "You damn renegade, I will make you regret what you have done," exclaimed Monreau, who had not liked the attack on an Imperial outpost. Wolfer after the foray into cyberspace seemed to have disappeared, but apparently our Infolowy was much better and managed to track him into cyberspace, he had taken refuge on a small planet at the edge of the Union-controlled system and was peddling the Collected Information to the Black Market, he was the one who hired Doc O.B to retrieve other data that he had been unable to retrieve because it was too protected and excluded from the network.
"Hard times are ahead," Paolo said.
He explained that we absolutely had to stop these criminals before another war broke out between the Factions. The empire after Michael Tres' attacks is on the warpath. The union is ready to explode since Mercer killed San'a, the Federation is ready to wash away spilled blood with more blood.
|