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corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!

quote:

You lug your gear all the way back to the mess hall. You enter and see soldiers lounging in groups, eating and speaking with their mouths open. Suddenly the camaraderie is broken by an angry shout of, “Wolf Tits, you son of a bitch!”



There are a lot of Choice of Games LPs going around these days, but this isn't one of those. Heavy Metal Thunder is a gamebook, the traditional kind. It's still got stats, items, fun choices, all that stuff. And the writing is a hell of a thing:

quote:

Either someone has chosen to dump a cartload of barbecued sausage links for a discount meat sale, or you have indeed caught the manager in your trap. Since there are no for-sale signs around, you’re betting on the latter.

Heavy Metal Thunder stars an AMNESIAC SPACE MARINE (of course). He is a member of the BLACK LANCE LEGION (of course), and he kicks a lot of rear end while killing people with guns or whatever (of course). He was originally known as "Mister Wiggles," but currently he is named Cromulus (because it "sounds cool") Unlike a lot of RPG-style CYOAs, this one is modern enough to not drop a bunch of rules on you from the get-go; everything is introduced gradually, and you get to build your character over time rather than all at once before the story even begins. And there are no dice rolls! At no point is the player hosed over by random chance, it's all based on stats (an insane amount of stats, but they are present nevertheless). Book Two introduces even more statistics, which is good. Maybe? I don't know.

And like I said, the writing is wonderful. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do. We're currently on the second book. Supposedly, it'll end up being a trilogy, but there's no sign of a book three as of yet... I played through the first book already, you can read that over here.


If you did not read the first LP, you may be confused by some of the skills used in this book. Here is the explanation given for each skill -- you gain a new one each time you level up!

Skills


Navigation. The ability to make sense of the hidden paths within the void. Skilled navigators can use the stars and planets as guides to find the quickest routes through the solar system. Becoming lost in the void can be a fate worse than death in battle.
Please note that the use of Navigation has been expanded. In the previous book, this skill applied only to navigating through space. Now it also includes the ability to find the shortest pathway through strange terrain, winding hallways, and other land-based locations.

Computers. Knowledge of the various systems built by humans that store and retrieve information and guide machines. Even without this skill you can still use a computer, as can most humans in the space age. However, this skill will give you the upper hand in making any program do what you want.

Stealth. The ability to move about unseen and unheard. In this era, Stealth also includes an understanding of how to hide your infantry armor’s various electronic, heating, and other apparatuses prone to remote detection by the enemy.

Pilot Ship: Small. The ability to pilot the smaller commercial and military spaceships made by humans. Includes use of older pre-Invasion ships as well as the newer, advanced ships. The controls of spaceships are very complicated, and without this skill you will be almost completely clueless about ship functions.

Demolitions. Knowledge of the ingredients of explosive materials and the know-how to put a simple bomb together.

Jetpack Skill. Every Space Infantryman understands the basics of piloting his own jetpack. This skill will give you greater understanding of jetpack piloting, jetpack maintenance, and knowledge of the Legion’s more advanced jetpack models.

Weapon Proficiency: Hand-to-Hand. With the introduction of bulletproof energy shields and jetpack infantry that can move faster than bullets, close-in combat has become important on the battlefield. A good infantryman can outmaneuver and kill enemies up close, pierce the shields of enemy ships, and hack through hulls using the expensive, energy-producing weapons made by the Black Lance Legion. If you pick this skill, you will be proficient in the use of one type of H-to-H weapon: Blades, which includes knives and swords; Maces, which includes heavy blunt weapons like steel batons and maces; or Spears, the long, piercing weapons of the Legion. Blades are good for slashing flesh and hacking off limbs, Maces are good for bashing armor and bones, and Spears work well if your enemy is some distance away, or when used in groups of other spearmen. You may select proficiency in one of these weapons if you choose this skill, but you may choose this skill more than once if you desire proficiency in more than one type of H-to-H weapon.

Weapon Proficiency: Ranged. Knowledge of the Way of the Gun. Energy shields are expensive to make, and are not widely used; plus, to kill from afar is still the safest path in war. If you choose this skill, you will be proficient in the use of one type of gun: Rifles, which includes long-range single shot rifles and automatic rapid-fire rifles; Handguns, which include small automatic handguns and older revolvers; or Shotguns, which are the heavy bruisers of gun warfare. You may choose this skill more than once if you desire proficiency in more than one type of ranged weapon. Note that once you have chosen to fire a gun at the enemy, you must fire at least one bullet, even if you realize afterwards that you have no hope of hitting the enemy!

First Aid. The human body is not a perfect engine of warfare; wear and tear, and even death, are inevitable. To stay one step ahead of the Widowmaker is paramount to survival. This skill includes knowledge of healing medicines, drugs that enhance performance, poisons that impair bodily functions, and knowledge of the application of first aid in space.

Xenology. Little is known of the Invader, but a few of the enemies’ ships and bodies have been captured and studied extensively by the Black Lance Legion. Xenology can give a soldier the upper hand when dealing with a strange, alien species. Knowledge at this level includes the basic information that your leaders think may be of use to an Infantryman, but does not include classified information.
Sixth Sense. When death can occur anywhere and anytime, a warrior’s mind does anything it can in order to stay alive. Some soldiers seem to develop a sixth sense that warns them of danger when their eyes and ears do not. Some tacticians in the Black Lance Legion believe that intuition is the ability to scan and sort information on a subconscious level; when in danger, the subconscious warns the conscious mind via a peculiar sense of fear. While no good Infantryman wants to live in fear, separating raw fear from that inner voice of warning can help one tread the fine line between being smart and alive and being a coward.

Stat Mod Skill: Weight Lifting. If you pick this skill, then you have spent a little time in the gym and take care of your body. You may add 1 to your Strength statistic. (This skill and all other Stat Mod Skills may only be chosen once.)

Stat Mod Skill: Intensive Study. You have a college-level proficiency in one or more subjects. You have trained your mind a little more than most and can have an intelligent discourse on a few things. Add 1 to your Intelligence statistic.

Stat Mod Skill: Gymnastics. You have some understanding of how to leap and fall without hurting yourself, and how to move quickly without wasting energy. Add 1 to your Dexterity statistic.

Stat Mod Skill: Public Speaking. You don’t feel quite as much fear as others when it comes to making your thoughts understood by a group. Add 1 to your Charisma statistic.



Please support the author -- buy his gamebooks! They also have android versions, though I can't speak as to their quality, but that is another way to support Kyle and his highly entertaining CYOAs.

corn in the bible fucked around with this message at 23:49 on Apr 25, 2015

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corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Book Two, Chapter One: PLANET DEATH
-------------------------------------------------------------------




The Story So Far

Humanity rose from the cradle of Earth, established colonies on the moon and Mars, and created mining operations in the asteroid belt and on the moons of Jupiter. Unimaginable wealth was harvested; humanity was at its zenith. But we lost our passion for living and felt no joy at having conquered our solar system. We were simply going through the motions.

Then, three years ago, an alien race arrived in black ships and savagely tore through our defenses. Their technology was more advanced than ours and their culture was wholly focused on brutal conquest. We didn’t stand a chance. Within days, every major city on Earth was reduced to rubble. Defenseless and mostly cut off from one another, our colonies and mining operations waited. The crushing onslaught of the Invaders slowed; they were in no hurry to blast each and every isolated colony because, as far as they were concerned, humanity’s short reign was over.

However, in one of the early battles in which our pathetic space forces were utterly crushed, one small Invader vessel was stolen by a group of desperate, clever humans. The vessel was spirited away, then studied until all of its mysteries were revealed. The last of the free humans created a hidden stronghold called Black Heaven. More battleships were forged. In secret, fighters were gathered wherever they could be found. Eventually a guerilla army was formed: The Black Lance Legion. Under the direction of the Storm Lord, Admiral Franks, a ruthless culture of survival was created. Warriors called human fanatics were the children of this new world.

Your name is Cromulus, and you are a jetpack infantryman of the Black Lance Legion. Your journey began when you woke floating among the ruins of a battlefield. Crippled by amnesia, you pieced together what you could of your identity and the skills you learned from the Legion, then used the remains of a blasted space station to track the path of your missing battleship, the Penelope’s Vengeance. When you realized that an Invader ship was stealthily following the Penelope’s Vengeance, you vowed to warn your brothers and sisters-in-arms and save them from imminent destruction.

You ruthlessly fought your way from space station to station, sometimes saving lives, sometimes crushing anyone who got in your way. You flew through endless miles of void, often with no means of transport besides your short-range jetpack infantry suit. You experienced all manner of deprivation, and even glimpsed the darkness of insanity.

But you reached the Penelope’s Vengeance and warned the crew of the stalking Invader ship. Captain Numitor chose to meet the enemy head-on. Despite looking like someone who needed to be in a morgue, much less an infirmary, you joined the battle. You even faced down the very soldier who betrayed you and left you stranded. Without knowing his reasons, you were forced to choose whether to kill him or let him live.

During the battle, you joined a unit composed entirely of human fanatics. Alongside seven other fighters who would rather die than live a life without dignity or meaning, you stormed the Invader ship. With tracer rounds to light your path and a trail of alien dead to mark your progress, your unit destroyed the enemy’s shield generator and escaped just before the Penelope’s Vengeance blasted the alien vessel.

Earth’s communication systems have gone black for years, and the human inhabitants – either pressed into hard labor or forced to fend for themselves in the wilderness – have no idea that the last of the free humans have struck their first blow in a desperate guerilla war in outer space. You know little of the big picture, but you don’t have to work in Tactical to know that the enemy has the advantage of numbers and experience. But the enemy has been caught by surprise, and now is the time to press that advantage. So begins a series of battles all across the solar system, officially known as…

OPERATION: SOL INVICTUS




------------

You wake in a dim, steel-grey infirmary decorated with framed pictures of wildlife from Earth. You are wrapped in warm blankets. You listen to the hum of distant machinery and the groan of wounded soldiers lined up in beds on either side of you and, slowly, you remember the battle and its aftermath.

You and your comrades were given a hero’s welcome when you returned to the Penelope’s Vengeance. Commander Uther clapped you on the back and, as you reached forward to shake someone’s hand, the weeks – or perhaps months – of your grueling journey caught up with you and you pitched forward. Darkness claimed you.

You are connected to an intravenous tube and your many wounds have been sewn shut and patched up. Someone has even taken the time to trim your scraggly beard and wild hair. You lie back and relax, feeling better than you can ever remember – which is not difficult, since your memory only extends to the beginning of your recent journey.

Just then, you remember that your new friend Marcus was shot several times during the assault on the Invader ship, and you helped to drag him out. You spring up and look about, then find that he has been placed in a bed directly beside yours. He has numerous bandages across his torso, and his dark complexion has turned sickly gray, but his eyes are slitted and looking directly at you. There is nothing to say. You smile, grateful that your friend is alive, and his lips curl in response. Back to back you fought with this man. You were both assholes to one another at first, but you would both be dead if you had not watched one another’s back.

At the far end of the infirmary, a woman stirs and approaches. Her face is square and pale, and a long scar cuts across her nose and lips. One side of her head has been shaved, but the rest of her long, brown hair sways with each limping step. An infantry sidearm hangs at her side. Her hard, blue eyes look straight into you.

------------

The woman pushes a stool next to Marcus’s bed and sits, then she turns and looks at you. You can sense a strong will behind her eyes, but she is also calm and unaggressive. You have seen the look before. She is undoubtedly a human fanatic, the first female of your kind that you have met.

“Hello,” she says. “My name’s Grishnak. We’re on the same unit.”

You remember the name. “You played music for us during the battle,” you say. “To get us pumped up.” You never knew that she was a woman, and you try to hide the shock from your expression. Then again, the eight members of your unit divided into two teams when you entered the Invader ship; she was with the others, so no one can fault you for not knowing.

“That’s right,” she says, smiling. “I’m the team’s Entertainer. I find pieces of culture fit for our enjoyment - you know, vids or books or music that won’t weaken us. I say things that need to be said, and remember things that need to be remembered.”

“Is that… sort of like an artist?” you say.

“Maybe someday I’ll be an actual creator,” she says, smiling again. “But not yet.” She pauses to check on Marcus, who is deep asleep. She pats his arm, then says, “Cromulus, I want to talk to you. I want to warn you about something.”

You glance down the long, dark infirmary, which is full of fighters wounded during the last battle. You know full well that your solar system is occupied by a large, hungry, tyrannical force that wants your kind dead. You have little doubt that Grishnak has heard about your journey through the void. What could your teammate possibly say that you don’t already know about the situation?

“I’m listening,” you say.

“People who know what you did will respect you,” she says. “But when they find out that you’re like us – that you’re a fanatic – they won’t be so friendly anymore.”

“Is that so?” you say. “But we were the ones that blew up that Invader ship!”

“Let me explain. Human fanatics have carried most of the burden of this war. Things are about to get a lot harder now that the Invaders know for a fact that the Legion exists, and we’ll be the ones bearing that increased burden, too. And we do that happily, Cromulus. We don’t mind. This war made us. It gave us direction in life, a purpose. The thing is, most of the soldiers in the Legion aren’t fanatics like we are. They don’t believe in the beauty and strength of their species. They’re just trying to survive. Do you understand?”

“Sure,” you reply. “I saw a lot of that when I was trying to make it back to the Penelope. I saw people turning on each other, sometimes for no good reason. I even had to do… questionable things… to make it back here. But I had to. Whenever the people outside the Legion thought the Invader was close, they didn’t come together and put up a fight. They turned into wild animals and did awful things to each other.”

“It’s even worse than that,” says Grishnak. “You’ve seen the propaganda on this ship, right? It’s all geared toward fanaticism. It’s supposed to make people proud of their humanity and willing to fight to protect that humanity. The war effort needs people like us. Without people like us, there won’t be any victory, or even survival. The rub of it is that… we’re resented for it. Most soldiers don’t like dealing with us. We don’t question who we are, we don’t question why we do what we do, and they see that as an insult to them. You’re going to hear the expression ‘they think they’re better than us’ quite a bit. There’s a little grain of truth in that. We constantly strive to be better than what we were yesterday.”

“Why does the Captain put up with that?” you say. “He knows our worth.”

“Captain Numitor’s a very sensible and very reasonable man, but he’s not a fanatic. He knows our worth, sure, so he gives us a lot of leeway. Not a lot, of course, not so much that others can see it and resent us even more. Not all captains are like Numitor, though. Most captains would prefer to have an orderly ship full of obedient workers rather than victory in battle. There are plenty of captains and unit commanders who would fit in on pre-Invasion Earth: They know how to back down with dignity, how to ‘cut their losses’, and how to show backbone only when they know they can get away with it. Most people, Cromulus… are cowards.

Grishnak falls silent. For a moment you see her hard face flash with long-suppressed rage. Then the moment ends, and her calm returns once again.

------------

“Grishnak,” you say. “What’s your story?”

“Ah… let’s not get into that.” She casts her glance to the side, uncomfortable.

“Listen,” you say, “my past was so unremarkable that I forgot every bit of it with one blow to the head. No human starts out remarkable; it’s what we become that matters. Right?”
Grishnak smiles in defeat. “Alright, fine. But if I tell you, promise me that I won’t ever have to hear you bitch about having amnesia, alright? Some of us envy you for that.”

You nod, and Grishnak continues. “Before the Invaders came three years ago, I was happy, but I was so mixed up about what’s important – and what isn’t important – that I had no idea I was happy. You can blame our culture, if you want. I had decent friends, a decent job, and enough money to pay for a decent place in a relatively crime-free area. The only bad thing was that my family was worthless. I was an orphan, so I got passed around by a lot of different families. It sucked. But that was behind me, you know? I had been on my own for years, but I still dwelled on the past all the time. Even in the middle of relative luxury, all I could see was the face of some drunk bitch in court trying to retain custody of me, or some religious nutjob trying to raise me and a dozen other orphans. I couldn’t let go of the past.

“Anyway, after I’d been on my own for several years, I met a guy. I fell in love.” Grishnak stops, laughs uncomfortably, and shakes her head in embarrassment. “I thought he was the poo poo. Just nice enough, just macho enough. Plus his family was really great. When we got engaged, his family practically took me in! I’d never had anything like that. Never.

“We’d been living together for about a year before the Invaders came. We were staying in his family’s cabin in the country, and that saved our lives. We had no warning… every major city for miles around was either nuked, turned to glass, or worse.

“We didn’t even know that it was aliens. Nobody did – nobody living around us, anyway. We couldn’t get any real news, of course. We had to scrape by as best we could. Eventually everyone in the area sort of banded together. Emphasis on “sort of”. We pooled our resources at first, and people who knew how to grow vegetables or hunt or fix things were pretty good about teaching the rest of us how to get by.”

“Where were the Invaders during all of this?” you ask.

“Who knows?” says Grishnak. “It’s not like they ever announced their presence. We thought there had been a nuclear war with some other country. And that ignorance is not as uncommon as you might think; there are plenty of new recruits who weren’t involved in politics or the military who simply have no idea about the Invasion… until we tell them.

“Anyway, the Invaders weren’t my main problem. My main problem was that there was no healthy culture to give us any direction. See, my boyfriend who was such a “kind yet strong” man started showing his true colors. It started with the neighbors. Any time he thought he could get away with acting like an rear end in a top hat, any time he thought he could take something and get away with it – he did. He was a real tough guy when he knew the other person wouldn’t confront him. But any time one of our neighbors leaned on him, or asked him to do something that he really shouldn’t, or even got too familiar with me, he turned into a complete wimp. A spineless, craven wimp. Then he started doing the same thing to me, pushing me around when he thought he could, then backpedaling and whimpering like a child when I stood up for myself.

“He had no identity,” says Grishnak, her jaw set hard. “He had no inherent humanity. He was just a set of reactions to any given situation. How could I love him if that was the case, you know? Who was he? He died with the old world, but I was still alive… and living with a zombie.

“Eventually we started raiding the ruins of the old world. We had to; we didn’t know enough about surviving in nature to take care of ourselves. We saw awful things… humans that had degenerated into animals, scavengers, monsters. Sometimes we could chase them off by yelling or throwing rocks at them, but other times I had to shoot them. And it was always me… no one else would share that burden with me.

“On one of our raids, we were followed home by other raiders. These people had been doing it longer than us. They were better organized and better equipped. They attacked us. By this time we had all moved into a few closely-set farmhouses and barns. They should have been defensible, but a lot of people panicked and either ran or gave themselves up. Me and a few others fought them off for over a day, mostly from some kid’s bedroom on the second floor. One by one the others got picked off. Eventually it came down to me and my boyfriend in a siege against dozens. I had to walk him through everything. When I got tired, he convinced me that he would stand watch while I slept. I laid down, but something kept me from sleeping.

“It was a good thing I didn’t. As soon as he thought I was out, I heard him sneak out and quietly talk to the raiders on a radio set. He was bargaining with them. He kept pressing them, asking if they would let him go if… if he gave them a woman. He kept going back and forth, back and forth, acting like a tough guy, then acting like he was about to cave in.

“But I wasn’t even surprised. As crazy as it sounds, I actually felt a weight rising off my chest. I felt like all the things that were false and heavy and illusory had simply… gone away. I drew a pistol and when he tip-toed back into the room, I shot him in the forehead. I threw his body from the window and I heard the raiders laughing below.

“I couldn’t sleep after that. I paced the room for hours. I felt such power! Such freedom! Eventually the leader of the raiders contacted me on the radio. We had a surprisingly pleasant conversation. Really, they weren’t such bad people. They were scumbags, sure, but they were honest. After some negotiations, they let me join up with them in exchange for all of the supplies we had been sitting on. When I came down from the farmhouse, I kept a loaded pistol against the side of my head for most of the first day with them. I wanted to show them that I couldn’t be tricked. They weren’t going to turn me into a slave that they could rape or torture at their leisure. If they tried to turn me into something that I didn’t like, I was going to check out – immediately and permanently.

“So, I started raiding with them. After a while I realized they weren’t so different from my other neighbors. Less desperate, more rear end in a top hat-ish, less pretentious, more direct, sure, but they were still… you get the idea. We mostly raided ruins, but on more than one occasion I helped them kill people that didn’t deserve to be killed. They were doing things just to survive. Unlike us, unlike the human fanatics, they didn’t care what they became in the process. But me… I cared. Even when I was scoping out the homes of people who were trying to live an honest life in the wilderness and reporting back how they could be raided… I cared.

“We got pretty big. In fact, we were probably bound to be targeted by the Invaders eventually. We were getting reckless and getting too close to “civilized” areas – places run by Invaders or their human servants. Fortunately, we got targeted by the Legion first. See, they used to target people on Earth, people they thought they could turn into soldiers. I’m not sure they do that very much anymore. The Invaders have tightened security since those days.

“It happened very, very quickly. In the middle of the night one of the officers started to raise the alarm because the sentries stopped communicating. I say “started to” because he never got the chance. I was with him when the gas canisters came in and knocked everyone out. It was some kind of nerve gas. I remember running for the back door, then my legs quit. I saw black-armored soldiers come in as quiet as death… standing over me, their faces completely covered. I was terrified. I turned my head and saw one of them looking through one of our ammunition stores. You can’t imagine the anguish. We had worked so hard to gather those stores, and then these guys were going to just take it and kill us.

“What happened next blew my mind. The Legion soldier picked up some of our ammo, studied it, and threw it away. Can you imagine? This stuff was our goldmine – and he thought it was crap! They never picked up any of our gear. They carried most of us into vans and, I swear, I was more curious than anything else. At that point I was as frustrated with the raiders as I was with the others. Any change of scenery had to be better.

“And it was.” Grishnak’s face glows with warmth as she smiles. “Terrifying, yes! They flew us into space and put us in these battleships, divided us up, and showed us the vids about how alien monsters had destroyed our world and we had to fight them in freezing space… ha!

“But it was real, Cromulus! The friends I made here are real. The enemies I fight here are real. This conflict is just. The rules make sense. The Storm Lord is more admirable than any bullshit authority figure I’ve ever had to deal with. I don’t know how it’s going to end, my friend, or what our species is going to become before it’s all over… but I can honestly say that I’m glad I’m here.”

You nod slowly. You understand exactly what she means.

“I’d better be off,” says Grishnak, rising suddenly. “The doctor’s letting you out tomorrow. It was good meeting you. Hopefully our unit will see some action soon.”

Grishnak turns and limps away down the line of wounded soldiers. Just then you happen to remember some of the badass names that the other units had. “Hey, wait a minute,” you say. “What’s the name of our unit?”

Grishnak stops and turns to face you. “We’re the Venice Clovers,” says Grishnak. “Isn’t that a pretty name?”

You gain 1 XP for hearing the Entertainer’s tale. EXP: 51.


------------

Early the next day you wake up restless and ready to leave. There is no one around to stop you, so you unplug your intravenous feeding tube and dress yourself in your Legion blacks and raggedy gray sweater. You’ve heard that a briefing is scheduled for noon, and you’d like to check on your equipment beforehand. Just before you turn to leave, Marcus stirs and whispers your name.

You lean in and put your hand on Marcus’s arm. “What is it, buddy?” you say.

“This is… important…” says Marcus.

You are reminded of scenes from vids in which someone important to the protagonist lies bloody and near death; while bullets are flying everywhere, the two usually stop and hold a conversation in which the sidekick relays important information just before dying.

“My comic books,” says Marcus. “You gotta… watch after ’em…”

“I will, my friend,” you say, squeezing his arm. “I promise.”

“Others will try… to take them…” Marcus’s eyes close once again. “Don’t… let… them…”

One more burden has been laid upon you. You leave the infirmary with a heavy heart.


------------

It feels good to walk through the black hallways of the Penelope’s Vengeance once again. You see new recruits staring at the floor, frozen and unable to face their new reality. You see armored ship security personnel shooing children away from restricted areas. You pass by a young lady in Legion blacks posting up a new propaganda art piece that shows an infantryman drinking from a horn ripped from an Invader’s head; the woodcut mountains in the background are both stark and glorious, a nice reminder of Earth. As you pass by the mess hall, you see a long line of infantrymen doing pushups on the ground while a superior glares down at them, unbelievably pissed over some minor infraction. You remind yourself that you will have to come back later to see what sort of fine dining the Legion mess hall has to offer.

You enter the supply depot. Behind a wire cage you see many workers in Legion blacks and oily aprons sorting through crates of gear. In the far back you can hear the pounding of hot metal on auto-forges. Your heart sinks when you realize that the supply lady in corpse paint is nowhere to be seen. A worker sees you looking about and leans against the fence, silently waiting for your request.

You give him your name and, as he sorts through equipment, you see a sign that gives details on the Legion’s new gear acquisition policy. All gear will now have a cost, which is given in dollari. Soldiers can earn dollari by killing Invaders, completing missions, and turning in found gear. Better soldiers get better gear, and new soldiers must prove their worth to the Legion before they will be given expensive gear. (Think of dollari as a form of currency which can be spent or accumulated.)

If this is your second Heavy Metal Thunder adventure (as well it should be), then you do not receive any starting dollari, but you can simply bring all of your equipment over from Book One into Book Two.


Note that some of the advanced guns and hand-to-hand weapons listed below have a +1 or +2 beside their name. This number indicates a bonus which you may add when in combat.


Standard Gear

Charged Short Sword (Blade, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Charged Mace (Mace, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Charged Lance (Spear, bulk 3) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Standard Issue Rifle (Rifle, bulk 3) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Black Legion Sidearm (Handgun, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Martial Law Shotgun (Shotgun, bulk 3) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Standard Armor (Defense 1, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Standard Hard Armor (Defense 2, bulk 2) Buy: 4 d Sell: 2 d
First Aid Kit (bulk 3, heals 3 Blood, 1 use) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Quality Aid Kit (bulk 3, heals 3 Blood, 2 uses) Buy: 3 d Sell: 1 d
Bottle of Liquid Valium (bulk 2, heals 3 Blood, 1 dose) Buy: 4 d Sell: 1 d
Quality Liquid Valium (bulk 2, heals 3 Blood, 2 doses) Buy: 5 d Sell: 1 d
Sticky Fix (bulk 2, fixes 1 SD, 3 doses) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Legion Ration (bulk 1, Food, 1 use) Buy: 1 d Sell: 1 d
Ammo (bulk 1, choose type) Buy: 1 d Sell: 0 d
Bomb Components (bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d

Note: All miscellaneous gear that has a bulk of at least 1 can be sold for 1 dollari per item.


Advanced Gear


Long Sword +1 (Blade, bulk 2) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Shaking Blade +2 (Blade, bulk 2) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Heavy Mace +1 (Mace, bulk 2) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Morningstar +2 (Mace, bulk 2) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Heavy Spear +1 (Spear, bulk 3) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Impaler +2 (Spear, bulk 3) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Black Hills 5.56 +1 (Rifle, bulk 3) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Komenoi Auto Short-Scope +2 (Rifle, bulk 3) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Falcon Sidearm +1 (Handgun, bulk 2) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Filthy Larry Hand Cannon +2 (Handgun, bulk 2) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Spetz-Grumann (S&G) Auto +1 (Shotgun, bulk 3) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
S&G Crowd Manager +2 (Shotgun, bulk 3) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Medium Armor (Defense 3, bulk 3) Buy: 4 d Sell: 2 d
Light Mesh Armor (Defense 4, bulk 3) Buy: 6 d Sell: 3 d
Medium Assault Armor (Defense 5, bulk 4) Buy: 8 d Sell: 4 d

Legion Padded Upgrade Space Suit
Buy: 3 d Sell: 2 d

Description:
Though just as clunky as the default infantryman spacesuit, this model comes equipped with thick padding for extra protection. Upgrading to this model will raise your Suit Durability from 3 to 4. This might not sound like much, but in the vacuum of space a little extra padding can mean the difference between life and death. (Note that turning in your old model will net you 1 dollari.)

Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Buy: 6 d Sell: 3 d

Description:
This is more like it! Unlike all former models of Legion space suits, this leaner model will mark your transition from grunt to professional soldier (at least as far as appearance goes). The Form-Fitting Upgrade is not only easier to move around in, it even offers greater protection against the void. The Legion doesn’t waste this kind of material on cannon fodder; soldiers wearing this kind of gear have proven their worth to the cause. This suit has an SD of 5 and adds +2 to your max bulk, thus making it possible for you to carry extra gear. (Note that you cannot wear more than one type of space suit at a time.)

Legion “Luna” Jetpack
Buy: 4 d Sell: 2 d

Description:
While this jetpack is not any stronger or more responsive than your older model, it is smaller and lighter. When using the Luna model, you gain +3 to your maximum bulk, thus allowing you to carry more equipment. (Note that since your jetpack is already figured into the amount of bulk you are carrying, you will not have to worry about the weight in bulk of your jetpack.)

When the surly depot worker logs into your account and realizes that you were on the unit that took down the shield of the last Invader ship, he grudgingly hands over one bulk of free ammo (your choice of either Rifle, Handgun, or Shotgun ammo).

"Hey,” you say, still studying the board that explains the new currency system. “I killed a ton of dudes in the last battle. Can I get a few dollari for that?”

“No,” says the worker.


quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 16
SD: 3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 51. Next level at 75.

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
8 Rifle Rounds, 1 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
6 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
11/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

corn in the bible fucked around with this message at 23:22 on Apr 17, 2015

Hogge Wild
Aug 21, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Pillbug
Get rifle Ammo.

Good to see this continue.

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
Oh god drat it did I really forget to set the thread tag, this isn't a poo poo posting thread

wolf tits would be ashamed of me

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
You have a sense of deja vu as you lug your gear all the way back to the mess hall. You enter and see soldiers lounging in groups, eating and speaking with their mouths open. Suddenly the camaraderie is broken by an angry shout of, “Wolf Tits, you son of a bitch!”

Everyone goes quiet and turns to the chow line. You see a tall infantryman and a bomber pilot standing over a short, wiry infantryman who is holding his tray. You reason that the short one must be the one called Wolf Tits, for the infantryman and bomber pilot are red-faced with fury.

“What?” says Wolf Tits, his words strangely loud in the heavy, uncomfortable silence. “All I said was ‘you’re welcome’!”

“gently caress that!” shouts the tall infantryman. He violently slaps Wolf Tits’s tray onto the floor, then takes another step until he is standing over him, breathing in his face. “You… you people… you think you’re so much better than us!”

That phrase!
you think. That’s exactly what Grishnak said I would hear the non-fanatics say about us.

“Look, man,” says Wolf Tits, standing his ground. “Let’s take an honest look at who was rude to who first. Alright?”

As if two against one wasn’t bad enough, you see a third soldier, a clean-cut pilot, slowly maneuver behind Wolf Tits.

“You want honest!” shouts the infantryman. “Let’s take an honest look at whose unit has a totally pussy name! How about that, dumbass!”

Your stomach churns. You know that practically every infantry unit has a tough-sounding name; since everything is either “Hellhound this” or “Serpent that”, the bully can only be referring to one unit… the Venice Clovers, your unit. Wolf Tits must be one of your comrades that you haven’t met face-to-face.

You have little time to formulate a plan of action. Just as the infantryman reaches forward, Wolf Tits quickly head-butts him in the chin and one of the pilots puts Wolf Tits in a headlock. The second pilot moves forward, ready to pummel the small fanatic. What will you do?

Jump into the fight
Stand back and see how Wolf Tits handles himself
Try to convince some others to help you rescue Wolf Tits
Shout at the attackers and try to make them stand down


quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 16
SD: 3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 51. Next level at 75.

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
12/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

sunburnedcrow
Dec 17, 2012
Watch Wolf Tits punch people.

sunburnedcrow fucked around with this message at 05:32 on Apr 18, 2015

Improbable Lobster
Jan 6, 2012

What is the Matrix 🌐? We just don't know 😎.


Buglord
Jump in the fight. What's the worst that'll happen?

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
I flipped a coin, so...

You drop your duffel, cross your arms, and watch. Wolf Tits jams his elbow into the pilot holding him again and again. The other pilot punches Wolf Tits once in the side, then Wolf Tits lashes out with a series of wild kicks that keep both pilots off their balance, unable to land a solid blow or restrain the fanatic. Eventually the infantryman recovers from being head-butted, then joins in. You can’t help but laugh, because it looks like the three bullies are unsuccessfully trying to give a bath to a rabid wolverine.

The three red-faced men curse and sweat in a tangle of limbs. Eventually one attacker stumbles away, his face covered in blood, and then Wolf Tits finally breaks the choke hold, leans against the buffet table for a moment to catch his breath, then drops and punches one pilot in the knee so hard that the man bellows and skip-walks away as if competing in a dance contest for schizophrenics. An attacker throws his weight against Wolf Tits and tries to pin his arms against his side, then–

You are knocked aside as security personnel rush into the mess hall. A half dozen armored troops fall on the fighters with their stun-sticks. You turn and see Major Faustulus enter, screaming and spitting invectives. You have a great dislike for the bearded lout; he was your trainer, and while you cannot remember the details, you know that he gave you a humiliating name before you earned the name of Cromulus.

“Break it up you dipshits!” screams Faustulus. “Ah, Wolf Tits, doesn’t surprise me to see you causin’ trouble! Get these crap-holes up and throw them in lockdown, now!”

As the fighters are hauled off the ground, Wolf Tits spots you. He is smiling and out of breath. “Cromulus!” he says. “You see that poo poo, man? You see me whoop their asses?!”

“I did,” you say, smiling. “Good to meet you, by the way.”

The fighters are hauled from the mess hall and Wolf Tits tries to say something else to you, but his voiced is drowned out by Major Faustulus screaming in your face: “You have anything to do with this?!”

“Just enjoying the lunchtime show, sir,” you say, staring the man down. “Can’t wait to see what’s cookin’ for desert.”

Faustulus snorts at you and storms out the door. You can hear him screaming in the hallway. “I swear, Wolf Tits, we’re going to move your bunk into lockdown so you won’t have to keep going back and forth, you little poo poo!” While the other fighters protest their innocence, Wolf Tits only laughs, clearly enjoying the chaos and violence. You are glad that he didn’t hold it against you for not joining in on the fight; for him, the chance to prove himself was satisfaction enough.

You sit down for a lonely meal. No one bothers to approach you. For desert you enjoy a cup of coffee and contemplate what it means to be a human fanatic, then you leave with everyone else when the time for the briefing draws near.

------------

As you make your way to the briefing room, a hand claps you in the back. You whirl about – and see Wolf Tits behind you.

“I thought you were in lockdown!” you say.

“Yeah, I think that was my shortest stay yet. I must be getting good at it!” The miniature brute walks alongside you. “I guess what it is, is that they want anyone who’s anyone in this briefing. Something big is going down. And if it’s big, who do you think they’re going to depend on the most?”

You smile grimly. “Fanatics.”

Wolf Tits nods.

------------

You and Wolf Tits walk the dark halls alongside a few others. As you draw near the red lights of the briefing room, you spot the other members of your unit waiting for you. Grishnak and Sybel, the dream interpreter, seem to be deep in conversation. Commander Uther stands with arms folded, looking at you. He makes for an imposing figure, very stocky, with a wide jaw, short hair, and thick mutton chops. He smiles and nods to you, and you raise your head in greeting.

You see two others that you do not recognize. One is a tall, well-built young man with short blond hair and a neat uniform that has obviously been cared for. He seems intent on what is going on in the briefing room. The other infantryman is a short, dark-skinned, rough-looking Asiatic man with homemade tattoos along his neck. He stares straight into you, then smiles in a subtle yet disarming manner.

Commander Uther cuts through the crowd and approaches you. “Good to see you up and about, Cromulus,” he says, patting you roughly. “We’ve got to get inside, so this probably isn’t the best time for introductions, but all the same I want you to meet my second-in-command. His name’s Heimdall.”

The young, clean-cut soldier nods curtly.

“And this here’s Deeps,” says Uther, gesturing to the short Asiatic man. “He’s a man of few words, you know? Some of that’s due to a language barrier, but mostly it’s just his nature. He’s been killing since before the Invasion, but we’ve rehabilitated him and turned his talents on the Invaders. Mostly.”

You and Deeps nod to one another. Grishnak jostles Wolf Tits in a loving headlock and all of you make your way inside. You lean over to Sybel. He gives you a strange, penetrating look with his cold eyes. He is skinny, and his pale skin turns a demonic shade of red in the light of the briefing room. “You give names, right, Sybel?” you say, leaning close.

He nods.

“What about Wolf Tits?” you say. “What’s his name mean?”

“He feeds us,” says Sybel. “He’s a mama wolf, and he takes care of his cubs. You’ve heard the legend of Romulus and Remus drinking from a wolf-bitch’s teats when they were children?”

“I must have missed that vid.”

“It’s a story older than vids. But Wolf Tits – he’s what we call our ‘gear bitch’.”


“He’s no bitch,” you say quickly. “He’s small, but I’ve seen him put up a fight.”

“It’s not a derogatory term. Not every unit has a gear bitch, but every unit wants one. It’s a gear bitch’s job to scrounge for supplies. It’s their burden to leave behind heavy weapons and armor so they can carry extra ammo and supplies to feed their comrades. It’s a respected position.”

You nod, then look about the room. The dark red briefing room is packed far beyond capacity with infantrymen, pilots, security personnel, bridge crewmen, laser artillery and shield techs, and even a few workers from the engine room. The walls are covered in computer screens full of maps and ship diagrams. Behind a table at the front of the room sits Captain Numitor, his second in command, and a few high-ranking pilots and infantrymen.

Once everyone is seated, a bell is struck at the rear of the room. The peal swallows the din of conversations, then a sort of ominous calm fills the room. Captain Numitor stands. His face is hard and full of ice, and you do not envy any Invader who would make an enemy of him.

“Attention, gentlemen and soldiers,” says Captain Numitor. “War is about to begin in earnest… and all of you will soon be on the frontline of a war without borders.”


------------

“For three years,” says Captain Numitor, “the Legion has been gathering soldiers and strengthening its fleet. We’ve had only a handful of battles and the Invaders still don’t know who we are. With the commencement of Operation: Sol Invictus, we are going to show them exactly who we are.

“We are going to hit them at different points simultaneously with our entire fleet all across the solar system. They greatly outnumber us, but they have been lazy after their initial conquest of Earth. We are going to sew panic among their ranks. We are going to ruin their routines and their schedules. We are also going to study their response to a system-wide uprising. How will we do this? Map, please.”

One of Numitor’s aides brings up a large map of the solar system on a screen behind him. Many curving lines indicate Invader patrol routes clustered around Earth, Saturn, Mars, a few around the moons of Jupiter, and several tight clusters throughout the Asteroid Belt.

“We have been studying the patrol routes of the Invaders and seeing where they gather. At the climax of this operation, groups of Legion battleships will attack specific groups of Invader battleships. We’ve proven our value in the past, therefore we have been given a difficult assignment. The Penelope’s Vengeance and two other ships – along with one very special ally – will take on five Invader ships.”

A tumult of voices courses through the briefing room. “Three against five?” one soldier says. “This is crazy!”

“Do not be afraid,” says Captain Numitor, his voice hard and implacable. “We have already seen, from past encounters, that Invader ships tend to retreat when they do not have a clear advantage. They depend on weight of numbers for victory. With a smaller force, we intend to draw the enemy into a battle that they will not survive. Their overconfidence will be their downfall.”

Captain Numitor nods to the aide and the map traces a line from the Asteroid Belt to Pluto, on the far reaches of the solar system. “In the first of four parts to this operation, we will make our way to Pluto–”

“That far out!” someone cries.

“Silence!” shouts Major Faustulus, scanning the crowd for the offender.

“Worry not,” says Captain Numitor, a cold smile spreading on his face. “You won’t be expected to walk the entire distance. In fact, we’ve been making our way toward that dwarf planet ever since the close of our last battle. We will arrive within the next few days. This is our target.”

An image appears on-screen. You see a dreary-looking facility in the shadow of a squat, red hill. The sky overhead is heavy and black.

“This,” Captain Numitor continues, “is a research and development lab built by the Hades Cooperative. As some of you might know, Hades was a pre-Invasion labor-system whereby mercenary armies and runaway governments could pay to have scientists build advanced weapons, homemade viruses, and chemical weapons in such a way that the majority of the labor pool had no idea what they were working on. A lot of well-meaning fools working for a handful of highly organized wolves, if you will. Humans figuring out how to kill more and more humans - that’s how things were done pre-Invasion.

“The Hades Cooperative fell apart after the Invasion, but this facility was passed over, and the people who live here have rebuffed our diplomatic measures. Until now, that is. It seems the Invaders have finally scouted them out, which means this facility doesn’t have much time. We have a pretty good idea, through various diplomatic sessions, that most of their technology is worthless. However, one of their scientists has created something of incalculable value. Something that the Legion needs for one of its long-term projects.” Numitor pauses, then says, “The Legion is sending in a Reaver to retrieve this–”

Gasps and rumors swirl about the room. You turn and see Wolf Tits with his mouth hanging open. You lean in close and say, “What the hell’s a Reaver?”

“Are you kidding!?” he hisses. He lowers his voice, then says, “The Reavers are beyond elite, man. The best of the best… of the best! The Legion has plenty of teams of special forces, but these guys are trained to go out into the void alone. Everyone’s afraid of those bastards…”

“But why?” you say.

“Because there’s something… something not human about them.”

Deeply unsettled, you let the matter drop.

“As long as the Invaders don’t interrupt,” says Captain Numitor, “then this part of the operation should go smoothly. A Legion ship will drop off the Reaver on Pluto, who will then negotiate the release of the object and, perhaps, gain us a few scientists as well. These negotiations should be concluded by the time we reach Pluto. We will send a dropship to the surface and escort the Reaver and his cargo to the Penelope’s Vengeance.”

“And if the Invaders do show up?” says one commander.

“That Reaver and his cargo must be retrieved,” says Captain Numitor. “Abandoning them are not an option. Not only does the Legion need the cargo, we need that Reaver for the final part of this operation.

“As for the second part of our operation, after leaving Pluto we will swing back inwards to the Asteroid Belt and locate this particular space station: A decrepit facility held together by the remnants of the Zenith Corporation. It is the last pre-Invasion human space station left, and its inhabitants are mining a handful of asteroids and storing the metals because they don’t know what else to do with themselves. They do not know we are coming. Upon arrival, we should encounter a Legion ally of ours encamped nearby, the battleship Blood Goose. Many of us will depart and visit the humans hiding in the station. We will tell them exactly what has been happening in our solar system for the last three years, then we will get as many of them to join us as possible. By force, if we have to. We’ll take on supplies, too, if we can. However, if we run into Invaders attacking or even scouting the station, we are to abandon the people to their fate. It would be nice to train them in our ways, but ultimately they are relics of the pre-Invasion era; they could be nothing but dead weight because of their bad ideas and demoralized behavior, and we can’t risk a single human soldier to save the lot of them.

“The third part of this operation will be easy. The Penelope’s Vengeance and the Blood Goose will travel back outward again and, while avoiding enemy patrols using our best intel, we will pass near Uranus and rendezvous with the last member of our party, the heavy battleship Thunder God.”

An on-screen schematic shows all three ships. The Thunder God is indeed impressive. It is half again as long as the Vengeance and covered in artillery cannons and fighter bays. The Blood Goose is smaller than your own ship, but you can tell by its specs and the size of its engine that it must be fast and nimble, at least as far as battleships go.

“For the fourth and final part of this operation,” says Captain Numitor, “the three of us will swing outward again and meet our five target battleships in the middle of their patrol near Neptune.”

The display brings up a rough schematic of the five Invader battleships. Each carries a codename given by the Legion: Black Star and Hanged Man seem comparable to the Penelope’s Vengeance in size and armaments. Backstabber and Oathbreaker are smaller, faster ships. The largest ship, Frost Giant, is undoubtedly the leader of the squadron.

“The plan,” says Captain Numitor, “is for the Blood Goose to swing ahead of us and appear to “accidentally” run into the patrol. She will flee towards Neptune. We believe that the Invader patrol will split – some will give chase and some will remain on their route. We are counting on the fact that, first, the Invaders like to gang up on their enemies, and second, that they do not like straying from their appointed patrol routes. They are cowards and they are bureaucrats, and we hope to use this to temporarily break up their ranks. This will give us an edge when the Penelope’s Vengeance and the Thunder God attack the ships that remain on the patrol route.

“As long as the Blood Goose’s engine holds true, she should be able to keep ahead of her pursuers long enough for us to kill or disable our targets. Then, when the Goose returns with her pursuers, we will form up ranks once again and finish them off. Any questions?”

You watch your black-clad brothers and sisters as they press the Captain on various aspects of the operation. An observation strikes you. You know, either from ingrained experience or watching old vids, that military groups have always tended toward order and regimentation, a sense of bravado weighed down by discipline and a mindfulness of hierarchy, and arriving at precise destinations at precise times with a neat haircut and a gut full of energy-boosting stimulants. But the fighters in this briefing room are seated casually, many with long and lank hair and rough beards. Though everyone’s race and nationality and gender are wildly varied, there is something very, very Viking about the warriors gathered in this somber, neon mead hall. Your blood is filled with pride at the thought that soon you will fight beside them in an uprising spread all across your solar system.

Finally the grim Commander of the Athens Panthers says, “Sir, what does the name of the operation mean?”

“Sol Invictus is Latin,” says Captain Numitor, “and it means Unconquered Sun. It’s a label from mythology that applies to any deity who dies, descends into the underworld, and is reborn once again. This operation is our resurrection. It is our personal “gently caress you” to our would-be conquerors who took our homeworld and the lives of our loved ones three years ago. It is a challenge and, Storm Lord willing, it is a direct refutation of the Invaders’ complacency and their belief that they have already won this war.

“That is all, gentlemen and soldiers. Good day.”


------------

Days pass within the black belly of the Penelope’s Vengeance as you make your way to distant Pluto. You spend the time with your comrades running through exercise drills: Target practice and sparring with young Heimdall, studying technology with Sybel and philosophy with Grishnak, and cleaning and repairing equipment with Wolf Tits. Deeps keeps to himself, but you can tell that he means you no ill will. And Commander Uther is always nearby, pushing you and the others. He keeps Heimdall closest of all. You can tell that the young man is being groomed for a position of command.

But Uther keeps an eye on you as well. Like any good leader, he can see that you have that nameless force which sets some men apart from the majority.

The days spent training and laughing with your comrades are some of the best in your memory. But at night, as you lie awake in your cot and the others sleep all around you, you know for certain that you are not here to make friends and enjoy life. You have been sharpened into a blade that will be plunged into the heart of Hell. Soon you will once again stand face to face with the monster that has driven your species to the edge of extinction. You have been forged to kill that monster. That is your purpose.

One night you see the silhouette of Commander Uther standing in the doorway to his small private quarters. He is looking at you.

“You awake?” he says quietly.

“Yes, sir,” you answer.

“Get some sleep,” he says. “Turns out we hit Pluto tomorrow. The word going around is that the Clovers are going planetside.” Uther pauses, and while you cannot see his face, you can tell by his voice that he is smiling. “We’re going to be the tip of the spear, Cromulus."

------------

You and your teammates wake to the dull hum of the ship’s engines. Wolf Tits passes out rations and coffee. No words are exchanged; there is only the clink of metal and sigh of padded armor as everyone checks their guns and dons their suits. Heimdall and Sybel take turns checking the links between everyone’s helm computers. With practiced ease you crouch and strap on your heavy jetpack, its weight both cumbersome and welcome. The wings are a burden that give you the freedom to fly.

An alarm sounds just as the engines pick up speed. Moments later Commander Uther enters, then says, “Alright, here’s the deal. Captain Numitor says we’re close to Pluto and, wouldn’t you know it, we spotted an Invader ship. We were burning our engines pretty hot, so they spotted us quick and then hightailed it outta there. We have reason to believe that they sent a dropship full of soldiers down to the planet’s surface. No doubt they thought it was finally time to loot the Hades facility. Thing is, they didn’t expect us to ruin their party, so the Captain thinks they may have abandoned their troops at the facility.”

Sybel hisses and says, “Abandoning their own!”

“They’re cowards, no doubt about it,” says Uther. “Thing is, I’m guessing that once several higher-ups on that ship realize they’ll get in trouble for abandoning decent troops, they’ll argue about it for a while, then come back to pick ’em up. And they may bring help. So we need to move now.”

As you and the others fall in line and jog down the dark, winding hallways, everyone dons their helms so that Uther can be heard through your helmet comm system. “Here’s the plan. The Athens Panthers are suiting up as we speak. They’ll be sitting on the Penelope’s hull, ready to cover us if something goes down in space. Meanwhile, us Clovers are going to pack into a dropship and head down to the surface. We don’t know how many hostiles are down there, or even if there are any down there; that Invader ship might have only been observing. But we haven’t heard anything from the Reaver that we’re going to pick up, and we haven’t heard from the people at Hades, so be ready for anything. When we hit the surface, we’re going to split into two teams.”

A map of the planet’s surface appears on the left side of your visor. You see a large building, a small building, and desolation in between. “We think they kept their communications and possibly their data relay banks in the larger building,” Uther continues. “Heimdall, you’re going to lead Sybel and Wolf Tits there, get any information you can, and send us anything relevant. You guys are going in light. If you encounter any Invaders, you’re going to haul rear end and call in a small nuke from orbit. Understood?”

“Withdraw and have Penelope nuke the place if we see trouble,” says Heimdall. “Understood.”

“Good. The smaller building is the entrance to the underground bunker. We don’t know much about the layout, but it’s safe to assume that’s where they developed their weapons. We can also assume that our Reaver, if he’s still alive, is going to be in the bunker since it’s the only place defensible against orbital bombardment. Deeps, Grishnak, Cromulus, you’re going in there with me. Cromulus, you’re on point.”

“Yes, sir,” you say. You are filled with pride. Being on point means you will be in the front, watching for trouble and making snap decisions.

“Now, you haven’t worked with Deeps yet,” says Uther. “He’s a sneaky, quiet kind of guy, and he’s not real fond of authority either. He might go off and do his own thing. If that happens, don’t worry about it. You won’t shoot him on accident because he’ll hear or see us long before we see him.”

“Yessir,” you say.

Heimdall chimes in. “Remember, we’re looking for a Reaver who is an expert in stealth, hand-to-hand combat, and guerilla tactics. We’re also looking for a piece of technology that none of us knows anything about. We’ll have to look for things that stand out, or something that the Invaders seem interested in.”

You enter the wide docking bay and see several rows of black, wicked-looking bomber wing units towering over you like the crows of Odin himself. To your right you spot the Athens Panthers finishing up their equipment check. One of their heavy gunners spots you and gives a nod.

The squat, heavy dropship lies ahead. Technicians and repairmen in dark coveralls rush away from the dropship as the announcement is made that the docking bay will soon be depressurized so that the doors can be opened. Slowly the ship’s black doors open, casting red light onto your armored brothers. You clamber inside, then wedge yourself into a seat like a sardine.

The docking bay is depressurized and the great steel doors open onto the immense darkness of outer space. The pilots bring the ship to life, then blasts free of the bay.

“Grishnak,” says Wolf Tits. “Play us something… you know, ah, somethin’ that, ah…”

“I’ve got it,” she says.

You expect bone-jarring heavy metal to slam into your ears, but instead, as dark space fills the narrow windows and the dark red dot of Pluto hovers in your helm vid-feed, you hear muted, insistent drums beating. Horns of war hum quietly, promising violence and stirring the soul. You find yourself handling your firearm. The engines roar underfoot, dark Pluto rises, and you feel the will of your species singing in your blood as the horns cry out.


------------

The dropship lands in a violent wake of black dust and the door opens almost immediately. Without a word you and the others leap onto the surface, running blind. Heimdall and his team depart. You draw clear of the churning black cloud and see the surface of Pluto, the dead planet.

Sharp gray hills lie under a black field of stars. The sun is a distant, cold, white point hanging under the crescent of Nyx, one of Pluto’s moons. Under one tortured and chiseled hill cast in stark shapes of black and gray you see a squat, dark building – the entrance to the Hades bunker. The gravity is weak, so your team uses controlled jetpack bursts to arrive with little delay.

You see no signs of an enemy dropship, but the entrance to the bunker has been blown open. You hear Sybel’s voice in your com-link. “Looks like the entrance to the relay station has been blown open,” he says. “It’s dark inside. There’s something foul in the air. This is an evil place, Commander. The men who came here chose the land furthest from the sun for a reason.”

“I agree,” says Uther. “Bunker’s blown open, too. You guys be careful in there. Cromulus, take us in.”

Black ice, broken glass, and twisted metal crunch underfoot as you step through a pressurization and decontamination foyer. You turn on your helm light as you enter what appears to be a lobby. A large poster advertising the Hades facility hangs behind a receptionist’s desk. Bullet holes cluster about the entrance to a hallway where a mound of blasted riot shields and uniformed guards caked with frozen blood greet you silently.

“I don’t see any dead Invaders,” says Grishnak. “They must have cut right through those guys.”

“This place looks bigger than you’d think,” says Commander Uther. “That hallway must cut right into the hill.”

“Choke-point,” says Deeps. “They get choked in their own little trap, eh?”

Aside from the destruction, the place has a clean and corporate feel. There is no propaganda on the walls; this was not a place where low-level laborers toiled away, but where high-level corporate lapdogs came to make plans and hold councils with engineers.

You step over the bodies. You reason that it would make little sense to scavenge gear at the beginning of the mission, especially considering that one of your own is in this facility with no telling how many Invaders, but you make a mental note to rifle through some pockets on the way out.

The hallway is short and soon reaches a dead-end. On one side you see an entrance to a stairwell, and on the other side you see a dead elevator with open doors. Deeps enters the elevator and points out an emergency hatch on the floor. “Stairs, could be traps,” he says.

“That’ll take time,” says Grishnak. “And the Invaders might not bother to leave traps behind them.”

“They cut through guards, no casualties,” says Deeps. “They not rookies.”

Will you take the stairs, or climb the elevator shaft?

quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 16
SD: 3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 51. Next level at 75.

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
12/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

gegi
Aug 3, 2004
Butterfly Girl
Weak gravity should make it easier to take the shaft, right?

inflatablefish
Oct 24, 2010

gegi posted:

Weak gravity should make it easier to take the shaft, right?

What the troops do in downtime is nobody's business!

But since we have Sixth Sense and no Jetpack training, I'd rather take our chances spotting traps than bouncing off the walls of the elevator shaft. Take the stairs.

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
I flipped a coin again. Sadly, it's the stairs for us.

------------

“I say we take the stairs,” you tell the others. “We’ll keep our eyes open, but we need to keep moving.”

Deeps cuts open the hatch on the floor of the elevator and peers inside.

“Deeps isn’t the kind of guy to walk anywhere when he can climb or crawl or fly,” says Commander Uther. “Deeps, you want to go that way? It’s fine if you do.”

“I do,” says Deeps. Without a sound he lowers himself into the dark shaft and disappears.

You shrug and enter the stairwell. The stairs wind downward into darkness. As you descend, you feel your weight return.

“I can feel artificial gravity,” you say.

“There must be some power left in this place,” says Grishnak.

You finally draw near the bottom of the dark stairwell. You hear a strange click near your hand.

“Get down!” Uther shouts. You turn in time to see a small device taped to the bottom of the guardrail. You have only enough time to turn your back to the thing – then it explodes, knocking you against the far wall. Your ears ring as if your head has been struck like a gong.

You must have passed out, because you wake up with Grishnak hauling you to your feet while Commander Uther checks your suit.

“You alive?” he says.

“Close enough,” you manage, fighting to catch your breath.

Uther shakes his head. “Just chalk that up to one of the perks of being point-man, I guess.”

The bomb wasn’t strong enough to kill you, and your armor took some of the blast. Having a Sixth Sense let you dodge out of the way sooner than you would have otherwise, but you still lose 1 Blood.

(As you guessed, the elevator shaft has a Jetpack check, but it also lets you succeed if you have at least 4 Dex. Here, demolitions or 4 Int lets you detect the bomb and not get blown up, but being properly prepared meant you at least avoided most of the damage.)

Furthermore, the shrapnel thrown by the blast tears through your suit: Subtract 1 SD. Fortunately there is just enough oxygen left in the stairwell for you to avoid being damaged by the environment leaking into your suit, but you can still repair the damage to your suit with a dose of Sticky Fix if you wish.

------------

You enter a stark white hallway. Light emanating from every surface blinks on and off. It is disorienting. It feels as if the hall is continually winking out of existence, and is sending one last message in Morse code.

Before deciding which way to go, a voice cuts through on the com-link. “Sybel here. We haven’t met with any resistance, but they’ve been here.”

“You got anything for us?” says Commander Uther.

“Yes. I pulled an interesting video from the security feed. It’s less than an hour old.”

Part of your helm visor plays the video. You can see three humans on their knees before a group of black-armored, horned Invaders. You can see pre-Invasion communication equipment in the background; obviously this happened in the larger building now being investigated by Heimdall and the others.

There is no audio. One man shakes his head, then an Invader steps forth and stands before the humans. The monsters who have taken your solar system tend to be slightly taller than humans, but this brute stands at least one head taller than any of the others. His shoulders are broad, and everyone else in the feed looks like a child compared to him. His dark armor is highlighted with strips of shining gold. Your helm scans the visual and places a tag on the Invader that reads Gold Hurlant.

“What’s that mean?” you say.

“It’s an ID tag,” says Sybel. “The Black Lance keeps a log of noteworthy Invaders – personnel as well as ships. This big goat must have a nasty reputation if someone bothered to give him a name.”

Gold Hurlant grasps the human, but he continues shaking his head in protest. He must know at least one human language, because you can see that they are communicating. Suddenly Gold Hurlant unsheathes a large handgun and aims it at another prisoner. Still the man in his grasp shakes his head. Gold Hurlant fires and one prisoner falls dead. The man in his grasp appears to pass out. Gold Hurlant shakes him like a rag doll with one hand, waits for a while, then he blasts both of the remaining prisoners with messy headshots and turns to the others. The Invaders file out of the room.

“Goddamn monsters,” says Grishnak. “Just wait ’til they meet some humans that know how to fight back.”

“Thing is,” says Sybel, “I think you will run into these guys. I’ve looked at these feeds, and it seems like they dropped a team of ten Invaders. For some reason Gold Hurlant left with the dropship brought them here. Maybe he didn’t want to risk his life when we approached, and he’s on their main ship going for reinforcements. But I saw the other nine file into the bunker, where you guys are now. They cut off the power, which killed the security feed, so I don’t know where they are now.”

“We’ve got partial power, though,” says Commander Uther. “Somebody’s turned on the backup power.”

“I can’t say anything for certain,” says Sybel, “but it might be our Reaver.”

“And we haven’t heard a drat thing from him. Deeps, you see anything?”

You hear Deeps come through on your helm comm. “No sir. I went left. Nothing here but dead.”

“We’ll go the other way, then,” says Uther. “Lead on, Cromulus.”

------------

The flickering hallway passes by many open doorways, each emblazoned with different corporate logos. Looking inside, you can see that each room has been trashed. Dead bodies lie in clusters. You see no guards, only blood-stained business suits and civilian clothing worn by technicians and engineers. Some bodies show evidence of torture: Broken fingers, slashed faces, missing eyes and teeth, knees obliterated by bullets or heavy blunt objects. The Invaders are definitely searching for something, and you can’t help but think that 4596it might be the same thing that the Reaver was tasked with bringing back to the Black Lance Legion.

The hallway branches several times. You come to the end of one hall and find a large room filled with dead computers and strange, macabre devices. There are many places to hide, so you enter warily, waving your gun slowly. Another open doorway waits at the far end of the room.

“All clear,” you finally say.

Grishnak lifts a strange rifle from a table. It looks like something from an old science-fiction story. “This is the stuff they didn’t want the rest of humanity to know about,” she says before jamming the thing in her pack. “Some of this awful crap might be of use to the Legion.”

“It’s all pre-Invasion tech,” says Uther, sounding doubtful. “Still, you never know.”

You give the room a quick once-over and find a few things that might be worth some dollari.

Light Mystery Object (bulk 1)
Medium Mystery Object
(bulk 2)
Heavy Mystery Object
(bulk 4)

You may take any of these strange devices with you before leaving the room.

quote:

Current Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
12/15

You enter another flickering hallway. Your sense of foreboding grows. You don’t like the idea that Invaders are here, but are not making any noise.

Finally you come to a darkened room, and you jerk your gun up in alarm when something moves on the floor.

“Oh God!” someone screams. “I told you I don’t know anything!”

All three helm lights lock onto the shaking form. Hiding behind a fallen chair is a man dressed in the same guard uniform you saw among the bodies at the bunker’s entrance. The man’s face is bruised like beaten sausage on one side. He is soaked through with sweat. Both of his legs are stained with dark blood. He covers himself with a shaking hand. He is wearing a small gas mask, and you can tell that he is cold and exhausted.

Commander Uther steps ahead of you. “Don’t worry,” he says, projecting his voice from his helm microphone. “Relax, we’re humans. We’re here to help.”

The man blinks, obviously confused. “Are you… are you from… uh, which company…?”

“We don’t work for any corporation.”

“You’re government? Soldiers of some kind?”

“Not that either. Just shut up and relax. We’re not from that old world.”

Grishnak keeps her submachine gun trained on the man as Uther looks him over.

“These monsters came through here,” says the man. “Krishna preserve me, I never thought they would look… like that.”

“They questioned you?” says Uther.

The man nods.

“What did you tell them?”

“I didn’t say anything. I don’t know anything. They wanted some kind of device, but this place is full of poo poo that plenty of people want. I’m a hired gun, man, what the hell would I know?”

“I don’t know if there’s much we can do for you,” says Uther, rising.

“Can I get something for my legs, man? Please? They shot me, and I… well, a shuttle might come around eventually, you know? Or maybe I could come with you.”

“No,” Grishnak cuts in. “You can’t come with us.”

“Why not?”

You can tell that Grishnak is swallowing her anger. “You served people who made it their business to kill humans. How many Invaders have you fought? How many lives have you saved? If we took you and stripped away everything that was dark and hateful and inhuman, would there be anything left of you to serve the Legion?”

Strangely enough, the man does not seem confused by her accusations. He looks away, blinking and swallowing his fear.


Will you help the man, or leave him to die?

quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 15/16
SD: 2/3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 51. Next level at 75.

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
12/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

FredMSloniker
Jan 2, 2008

Why, yes, I do like Kirby games.
We were given a second chance. He deserves one too.

Improbable Lobster
Jan 6, 2012

What is the Matrix 🌐? We just don't know 😎.


Buglord
Help him after taking the Light and Medium Mystery Objects

Hogge Wild
Aug 21, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Pillbug

Improbable Lobster posted:

Help him after taking the Light and Medium Mystery Objects

This.

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
“I can spare this,” you say, digging into your satchel.

“Thanks so much!” the guard says as he accepts the gift. “I appreciate this, man, I really do!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say.

“It’s not anybody who’d help a man when he’s down, you know?” he says, glancing at Grishnak and Uther. “Karma’s got a way of helping those that help others. I really believe that. I really do. This is gonna pay off for you, my man. Just you watch!”

“I will,” you say, heading for the far exit. You companions say nothing, but you can tell that they do not agree with your actions.

Sometimes I stomp heads in, you think, and sometimes I put bandages on heads that get stomped in. They’ll get over it.

You gain 1 XP for helping the wounded.

------------

You continue down the white labyrinth until you come to a ruined blast-door. The heavy reinforcing plates have been blown to smithereens. A charred, twisted warning sign emblazoned with a human skull lies on the ground.

“Must be getting close,” says Commander Uther.

You peek through the entrance. The hallway beyond is coal black, but it shines like freshly waxed plastic-mesh armor. It’s almost like marble, but the dark surface is not marked by any texture or decoration of any kind. The sense of evil in the hallway is heavy and palpable, as if many, many people had buried their consciences here as they carried out their terrible work.

The black hallway winds and turns throughout the body of dead Pluto. At an open doorway far ahead, you see a crouching shadow. You are alarmed, but then your helm identifies the figure as none other than Deeps, your companion.

He raises a finger to his mouth. Despite the archaic gesture, he whispers into his comm unit. “Come, look,” he says. “Danger. Stay quiet.”

You crouch beside the doorway, then carefully peer around the side.

The black room is lit only by neon strips and sculptures. It takes you a moment to realize that you are looking at a bar, or a lounge of some sort. Comfortable sofas face large vid screens designed to look like windows; now, only ghostly, meaningless vistas play in random loops. Bottles of expensive alcohol sit behind a long, polished bar no doubt carved from expensive wood hauled from Earth. Many chairs and tables lie overturned, and a mound of dead bodies lie in the far corner. The hand of one dead man rebels against the synthetic gravity and points upward. The gesture must have been accidental, but he points toward a huge and hideous neon sculpture that covers the far wall. You see an octopus, the logo of one of the corporations that used the Hades system of weapons development. You don’t have to be a knowledgeable critic of art to see that the piece was made to exude a dark aura. You have no doubt that the company was proud of its power and its stake in the Hades cooperative. A single, lidless, malevolent eye stares out from the center of the octopus, and its mouth has been sculpted in such a way that it appears to be smiling subtly.

They were so proud of their achievements, you think. But all they did was make money at the expense of others. As soon as the Invaders came, their reign ended. Their weapons were completely useless. Why didn’t they relinquish their power and let the Legion take control of this place?

“No distract,” says Deeps. “You see him? Sniper, yes?”

Your helm chimes as Deeps takes over your visual field and places a marker in the rear of the lounge.

“You think there’s a sniper back there?” you say.

“Sure of it. Felt it, and saw movement earlier. Either behind bar, or behind tables thrown over. He’s covering his brothers, so they hunt without interruption.”

“We’ve got to take him out, then,” says Commander Uther.

“No easy matter,” says Deeps. “Probably has a high-power rifle. No? And a good position. No easy thing, flushing devil out.”

Volunteer to run into the room so that the others can target him when he lifts his head.
Take up position beside the doorway and let someone else be the bait while you fire at the sniper.


quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 15/16
SD: 2/3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 51. Next level at 75.

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
Mystery Object, 1 bulk
Mystery Object, 2 bulk
15/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

corn in the bible fucked around with this message at 00:34 on Apr 19, 2015

Hogge Wild
Aug 21, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Pillbug
Volunteer to run into the room so that the others can target him when he lifts his head.

We have almost full Blood atm.

FredMSloniker
Jan 2, 2008

Why, yes, I do like Kirby games.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3RlalRV4S8

inflatablefish
Oct 24, 2010
Hell yeah we wanna get shot! Charge!

Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH

Hogge Wild posted:

Volunteer to run into the room so that the others can target him when he lifts his head.

We have almost full Blood atm.

We've also got Sixth Sense. Be the bait.

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
“This isn’t the first time I’ve gone into a bar and someone took a shot at me with a high-powered rifle,” you say. “Probably won’t be the last time, either.”

“Not a great plan,” says Commander Uther, “but you have to respect its elegant simplicity.”

Uther and Grishnak take up position on either side of the entrance, weapons held ready. You ready your own firearm. Uther nods – then you rush inside.

Time dilates unnaturally as you enter the luxurious kill-zone. You see no signs of any sniper, but your heart races as if desperate to leave your chest and find the rear exit.

Just as you reach the middle of the room, near a circle of sofas around a squat table, a black-armored Invader silently rises over an upturned table. His long rifle is aimed directly at you.

4 Dex + 1 (Sixth Sense) = 5. Failure!

The cumbersome jetpack weighs you down as you run for cover. Tables, mugs, and chairs leap slowly as time becomes distorted in your mind and the sniper fires at you again and again. He tries to lead you in his scope, and even before you dive for cover the nearest sofa leaps as your enemy’s rifle chews through it. You leap behind the shredded furniture and fall heavily on one knee while your other leg seems determined to do the splits. Pain washes through your body as you crash gracelessly to the ground. You avoid being shot by the high-powered rifle, but you still lose 3 Blood.

Blood: 12.


Before you can crawl around to return fire, Uther and Grishnak fire round after round at the exposed sniper. Soon the room falls silent. You crawl around the couch and see the sniper lying dead at the far end of the room.

Still shaking, you approach the corpse. The lights from the neon octopus reflect off the corpse’s black armor. He lies alone. “All clear!” you say.
The others enter behind you. Commander Uther takes the Invader’s long scoped rifle and ammunition, as he is the only member of your team trained to use Invader weapons. Grishnak pulls a packet of food from the soldier’s bag.

“You can take that,” says Uther. “They eat the same stuff we do, you know.” You gain 2 XP and 1 dollari for your role in overcoming the Invader sniper. EXP: 53. Funds: $1.

Just as you are about to leave the lounge, a seemingly random string of text appears on your helm display.

“Hold on!” says Commander Uther. “That’s Legion code. That’s our Reaver, alright. He’s still alive!”

------------

“Can you translate it?” you ask.

“Uh, give me a minute,” says Uther.

“I’ve got it,” says Grishnak. “He says he’s in the conference room with the rest of the Invader team. He says he has the object. He’s been hiding from them and he’s had to turn off all of his suit’s systems. He’s been running on backup oxygen, but he’s nearly empty. He says if we’re still alive, we’ve got to move fast, but they know we’re here so we should expect an ambush.”

“It says all that?” you ask.

“It does. But Uther, what does he mean by ‘backup oxygen’?”

“It’s a Reaver trick,” says Commander Uther. “Some Invader units have ways of detecting electronic systems. That’s probably why he turned on the backup generators: To confuse their trackers and give himself some room to maneuver. Reavers carry little backup tanks inside their suits, and they suck on those in case they have to turn off everything to avoid detection. Looks like our guy’s doing his best to avoid them, but he’s running out of time. Come on, let’s hurry!”

Sybel sends your team a schematic of the bunker that he found in the comm station, so you are able to run through the stark black hallways and find the fastest route to the conference room. It seems to be tucked away in the deepest, darkest corner of the evil facility.

Uther orders Heimdall and his team to converge on the conference room, but they are far away and will not be able to provide backup for the assault. You push your body to reach the final destination, but the going is difficult, especially considering that you have to keep some strength in reserve if you want to come through the battle alive.

You arrive at a wide entrance that leads to the conference room. You and your teammates crouch on either side to catch your breath. When you look into the dark conference room, the sight is more terrible than you could have imagined.

------------

“What the hell were they doing in here?” Commander Uther whispers.

No one answers. The dark room is wide, with a tall ceiling, and is lit only by a few ornate red and dirty yellow lamps. Most of the light sources have been shot out, and you suspect that the Invaders are not wholly to blame for the destruction. The conference table was once humongous and round, with a holo-projector in the center that has since gone dark. Much of the table has been hacked by wild blows and, with other assorted materials dragged in, short walls have been jury-rigged all over the place. It’s almost as if the place was built by adults but was taken over by children who turned feral and divided themselves into warring tribes. A charred body tied to a chair sits in the middle of the holo-projector. The corpse’s innards have been pulled from its stomach.

Other dark vid screens cover the walls, but still more wall space has been devoted to one great mural that stretches across the entire room. In dark tones and childish gestures it shows black-clad figures murdering people with futuristic weapons. One section of the mural shows a van loaded down with an enormous projector of some kind which causes a crowd of people to strangle one another, or even tear off one another’s faces and eyes. Another dark stormtrooper waves a beam that vaporizes flesh or causes brain tissue to erupt from the skulls of its victims. Still another section shows a man in a suit speaking to a crowd using modified speakers, and the audience looks gray and dead, as if zombified by unnatural aural tones.

Deeps quickly lowers his helm visor. “Don’t breathe,” he says. “Keep helm down!”

“Why?” you ask.

“Not much air left anyway,” he says, “but it smells rotten. Bad meat. Long time it rots.”

It is difficult to tear your eyes away from the awful mural, but you finally notice that there are many, many bodies in the dark room. Some have been tied or nailed to the various tables or shelves, and it is obvious that they have been there for a long time. Some wear the clothes of technicians or businessmen, but others seem to have been taken from the sex trade – both men and women.

“By the Storm Lord,” Commander Uther mutters. “The Invaders did one thing right, at least.” He gestures, and you notice that fresh bodies have been cast into heaps on the floor. The dead men are all wearing very fine clothes.

“The men who ran this place were sick beyond belief,” says Grishnak. “I’m sure the most powerful corporate representatives kept this place secret from most of the workers. You see the mural? This art wasn’t made to enlighten, but to empower the ego and idolize humanity’s most base impulses. There’s a humorous air about it. They were empty inside, and in love with their power over others. They were psychopaths, no doubt about it.”

Commander Uther nods. “After Earth was taken over and the powerful corporations found themselves cut off from one another, the men who ran this place must have slowly gone insane. They couldn’t live without their empires and their bloody wealth, so they turned this place into some kind of inhuman hell.”

“Commander,” says Deeps.

“Right, right,” says Uther. “No time to worry about all that. We have to get in there. Our man’s running out of air while we’re jerkin’ around.”

“You have a plan?” you say. “As far as we know, there’s eight Invaders in there waiting for us. There’s too many dark spots, too many hiding places.”

“I’ve got a good rifle, so I’ll find a perch and keep an eye out,” says Uther. “Deeps, you go in alone and do your thing. Cromulus, you and Grishnak go in together and try to flush them out. Let’s move.”

Deeps grasps a wicked blade in one hand and a heavy handgun in the other, and rushes into the dark room without a word. Grishnak checks her submachine gun, nods to you, then you both enter. Side by side you make your way toward a pathway made of tables and overturned bookcases. You can see over the top in many places, and your heart hammers because you know that you are outnumbered by an experienced team that lies in wait for you. You crouch as low as you can and try to hide in the shadows.

Just as you draw near the black, shattered conference table, three black-armored Invaders simultaneously pop out of cover. The nearest one aims a heavy shotgun in your direction.
You have no choice but to concentrate on the nearest foe. You pray that the other two will not immediately drill you with concentrated firepower.

4 Dex + 3 Proficiency + 3 for firing at least six bullets = 10. Partial Success!

------------

You, Grishnak, and the nearest Invader fire at one another simultaneously. A hail of buckshot tears through the protective layers of your suit on your right arm, but the horned foe cannot withstand the combined fire of two human fanatics. He doubles up as if an invisible person folded him in half, then crashes into a line of chairs.

You lose 2 Blood. You also lose 1 SD, but you gain 2 XP and 1 dollari for killing an Invader. Blood: 11. EXP: 55. Funds: $2.

Even as you and Grishnak kill the nearest Invader, the other two put you in their sights. At the same time, Commander Uther fires from his position near the entrance of the room. His sniper rifle drills one Invader’s chest plate and sends him careening backward into a desk lying on its side. Just as the third Invader aims his rifle, Deeps rushes from the shadows and knocks the rifle aside. He attempts to jam his blade under the Invader’s neck-guard, but the horned foe expertly turns his wrist aside. The two grapple hand-to-hand. The Invader is taller and stronger, but Deeps carries a deadly weapon in either hand. Their dance is fast and vicious, and you cannot get a clear shot.

The Invader attempts to pull Deeps’s wrists into the air so he can land a blow in his midsection, but the small man manages to twist one of the Invader’s arms, then he places one leg behind the Invader’s legs and pushes him to the ground with a shoulder-blow. Before the Invader can rise, Deeps falls on him and brings his blade up and down, over and over, drawing thick lines of blood from the horned monster’s midsection.

There is no time to catch your breath during the battle. Commander Uther finds himself in a battle against two Invaders with rifles crouching in a far corner behind several heavy desks. Before you can assist, you see the last three Invaders emerge from their hiding place across the giant table. They take aim at you, Grishnak, and Deeps. Time slows down in your mind and you are sure that they will cut you and the others down.

Then you see a strange vision like something out of a nightmare. A figure in heavy, black, segmented armor comes out of the shadows behind the three Invaders. The unholy figure wears a convoluted jetpack like short black wings, and he bears a wicked looking battle-axe with one long blade that juts out from the top. Silently the figure jams the long blade of the axe into one Invader’s neck, then jerks it in such a way that the enemy’s head nearly pops free from the shoulders. You realize that the newcomer is none other than the Reaver, a special forces operative of the Black Lance Legion. He carries a gray steel briefcase tied to his left wrist – it must be the object that you have been sent to retrieve from this macabre facility.

The dead Invader’s comrades see his body topple, and they turn away from you and the others. From a distance the Reaver lifts his axe, then throws it through the air. With awe-inspiring accuracy the black steel smashes into one Invader’s faceplate and shatters helm and skull, sending the monster falling to his knees as if to pay homage to the Reaver’s death-dealing ability.

But then the Reaver suddenly lurches and falls over. You are confused, but then you realize that he has probably gone without any oxygen for quite some time. Despite being able to turn his suit’s systems back on once the battle was joined, he is most likely blacking out. The last of the trio leaps on the Reaver, jerks the steel briefcase from his hand, and rushes toward a rear exit that you hadn’t seen before.

“The object! They’ve got it!” you shout, afraid that the Invader knows of a backdoor leading away from the facility. Commander Uther cannot hear you, as he is in the middle of a duel against two riflemen. You are filled with the need to stop these subhuman aliens from taking the one precious thing that could redeem all the evils dreamed up in this hellish facility.

Even though you will have to run through the crossfire, you know that only speed will help you catch the runner.

Do you want to jump up and run on the table, or use it for cover and go the slow way?

quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 11/16
SD: 1/3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 55. Next level at 75.
Funds: $2

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
Mystery Object, 1 bulk
Mystery Object, 2 bulk
15/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

wereboat
Jun 23, 2011
Wolf tits would run on the table. We should all aspire to be like Wolf tits.

sunburnedcrow
Dec 17, 2012
To the table

ArchWizard
Mar 27, 2009

There's the Roy I know and love.


We only have 1 suit durability so we should probably use the table as cover.

I Killed GBS
Jun 2, 2011

by Lowtax
Somewhat disappointed that Wolf Tits is the name of a character, was expecting something more gonzo.

Krakatoah
Jul 8, 2009

Super High-School Level Bean-dog
STOP THAT HORNED PIDGEON!

Hogge Wild
Aug 21, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Pillbug
Table!

Ghostwoods
May 9, 2013

Say "Cheese!"
Run!

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!
You clamber onto the table and pound across it as fast as you can. Mounds of illicit drugs leap high with each heavy footfall. Lights from shrieking rifles blind you on either side. You run across the table with bullets flying on all sides and leap to the ground on the far side. You gain 2 XP for your Dexterity and your bravery.

You notice the Reaver nearby as he rises and staggers behind cover.

------------

You reach the exit and enter a shining black hallway. The runner is out of sight.

“Sybel!” you shout into your helm comm. “I need a full map of this place.”

“Got it,” he replies. Half of your helm is covered by a full map of the facility, including the secret area behind the conference room. The map is ridiculously complicated, but as far as you can see, there are no back doors or hidden entrances. The runner must be making his way back to the bunker’s entrance through which you entered. You give chase, trying your best not to lose your way in the winding black labyrinth.

You use your Navigation ability to find the shortest route possible while avoiding false turns, and you soon leave the black hallways and find yourself back in the shining white hallways near the bunker’s entrance. You are exhausted, out of breath, and unsure whether your prey has escaped, but just when you consider resting, you see your black-armored foe disappear around a turn just ahead.

The going is difficult, but you force yourself to continue on. You gain 1 XP for using your skill.

------------

You try to press on, but your legs become dead weight. You are forced to stop and rest, and at that point you realize that you cannot draw breath. You collapse and rest against a wall. Frustration wells up in your heart, for you know that you cannot continue at this pace.

“Heimdall,” you say into your helm comm. You gasp and try not to sound completely out of breath. “There’s a runner coming your way. He’s got the object we came here for. Be ready for him. Don’t let him escape.”

“Thanks, Cromulus,” says Heimdall. “Wolf Tits has been chomping at the bit to kill something. We’ll be ready!”

You rest and regain your strength. By the time you are able to stand once more, you see the Reaver leading Uther, Grishnak, and Deeps. To your surprise, the Reaver is carrying a dark, heavy briefcase.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing at the thing.

“It’s the object I was sent to retrieve,” says the Reaver.

You are confused. “But I… an Invader took it from you, so I was… well…”

“That was just a decoy,” says the Reaver, passing you by. “There’s nothing to worry about. That Invader died for nothing.”

Before you can give voice to your frustration, a familiar voice cuts through your helm comm. “Oh yeah! Hell yeah!” screams Wolf Tits. “I just got a kill!”

“Is that so?” says Grishnak.

“Is that so?! Some dude ran out with a briefcase like he was goin’ to a business meeting or some poo poo. He didn’t expect a pound and a half of hot Legion lead to come at him like that! drat, you guys, put this ol’ boy on a dinner plate… ’cause his rear end is done!”


Deeps claps a hand on your back, and Uther does not fault the young fanatic’s enthusiasm. The mission is a success, and everyone is glad that no humans of the Legion have died on this day. You make your way to the top floor and return to the lobby, where you find Heimdall waiting for you while Wolf Tits stands near Sybel and describes the amazing details of his fierce battle against the exhausted, briefcase-wielding Invader.

------------

Before leaving the bunker, you make your way to the mound of slain guards who died defending the facility. Fulfilling the promise you made to yourself when you first entered the facility, you pry the frozen bodies apart as best you can and search for useful gear. You refill on ammo to the best of your ability, but Wolf Tits falls on the loot and begins feeding the openings of his many satchels and bags. His hands become like vacuum cleaners as he finds many items that you didn’t even notice. You can hear him muttering things like, “I can get plenty for this,” and “You don’t want that? I’ll take it,” and even, “Not sure what the hell this is, but I definitely want it.”

Everyone files out of the bunker behind Commander Uther and the Reaver. The sight of your dropship waiting for you on the surface of Pluto is a beautiful sight, and Grishnak takes the opportunity to play some triumphant metal complete with wailing guitars and victorious shrieking.

“Not that this is a great time for introductions,” says the Reaver, “but my name’s Arius Rinpoche. Thanks for your help. I might have been able to complete the mission by myself, but I would have done so as a corpse.”

You notice Sybel’s head jerk upward as the Reaver mentions his name. On a private channel, he whispers, “Arius Rinpoche. I’ve heard of him. They call him the White Monk. He’s an expert at killing Invaders, but our enemies don’t even fully understand that he exists. Not yet, they don’t. We’re lucky to have him with us for the coming storm.”

You note that he does indeed look powerful. His armor is ornate, heavy and jet black with several strange decorative runes. You saw him kill two Invaders within a few seconds, and if he had not run out of air, you wonder just how dangerous he could have been.

“Not a problem,” says Commander Uther, shaking the Reaver’s hand. “It’s good to meet you, Arius. I’m Commander Uther, and the badasses behind you are known as the Venice Clovers.”

You reach the dropship and fall into your seat. Afraid that the Invaders will return at any moment, the pilot tears away from the dead planet and rockets toward the Penelope’s Vengeance.

During the trip, Wolf Tits makes any repairs that your suit requires: Restore your SD to full.

For completing your mission to retrieve Arius the Reaver and his strange prize developed by the Hades cooperative, and thus successfully ending the first part of Operation: Sol Invictus, you gain 5 XP and 3 dollari. Moreover, if you retrieved any Mysterious Objects from the facility, you can sell them at the shop when you go there after a good rest. EXP: 63. Funds: $5.

Commander Uther removes his helm and smiles at his Clovers. His mutton chops and thick mustache are drenched with sweat. “Are the Athens Panthers still on the Penelope’s hull?” he says to the pilot. “Send them a message and tell them to meet us in the lounge. We’ve got some stories to tell, don’t we?” You and the others cry out in the affirmative.

The pilot seems terrified that the Invader ship will return at any minute, but he also seems scared to be stuck in a cramped dropship filled with human fanatics and a special forces legend. With a tremor in his voice he relays his message to the Athens Panthers, who laugh and shout that they will meet you for drinks.

------------

You and the other Venice Clovers end up having drinks with the Athens Panthers, and things get so rowdy that everyone, including the bartender, clears out. Much time passes before you realize that several ship security personnel have been forced to man the bar and serve your drinks, and you are grateful that Captain Numitor is willing to let the heroes who carried out the Pluto operation have their fun even if it does result in a considerable amount of property damage.

The Athens Panthers are not human fanatics, but you are grateful for your newfound friends. They are a tough unit, but they have nothing but respect for the Clovers. Some argue that the Panthers are the best unit on the ship, but as the night winds down, Sybel drunkely tells you that the Venice Clovers are the superior unit – only no one will admit it for fear of giving even more power to a unit of fanatics already resented by most non-fanatics.

The next day, you rouse yourself despite being hung over and make your way to the supply depot. The dollari you have earned are burning a hole in your account, and you cannot wait to upgrade your equipment.

When you arrive, you are disheartened to see that the black metal supply depot lady is nowhere to be found. Instead, an older man who is hard of hearing has to bend over the counter so that you can shout a greeting into his ear. If you managed to haul any Mystery Objects out of the Hades facility, now would be the time to have them appraised and sold.

Light Mystery Object
: The old man nods sideways while mumbling and tosses this thing somewhere in the backroom. It is worth 2 dollari.
Medium Mystery Object: The old man consults with a technician, then his eyes light up when he realizes its true nature. An engineer is called, and he comes quickly to retrieve the object. It is worth no less than 5 dollari. Funds: $12!

While the old man putters around and shakes his head at notes written on your account, you take a look at the list of goods available for purchase. Remember that soldiers of the Legion must always keep at least one hand-to-hand and one ranged weapon in their inventory at all times.


Standard Gear

Charged Short Sword (Blade, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Charged Mace (Mace, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Charged Lance (Spear, bulk 3) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Standard Issue Rifle (Rifle, bulk 3) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Black Legion Sidearm (Handgun, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Martial Law Shotgun (Shotgun, bulk 3) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Standard Armor (Defense 1, bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Standard Hard Armor (Defense 2, bulk 2) Buy: 4 d Sell: 2 d
First Aid Kit (bulk 3, heals 3 Blood, 1 use) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Quality Aid Kit (bulk 3, heals 3 Blood, 2 uses) Buy: 3 d Sell: 1 d
Bottle of Liquid Valium (bulk 2, heals 3 Blood, 1 dose) Buy: 4 d Sell: 1 d
Quality Liquid Valium (bulk 2, heals 3 Blood, 2 doses) Buy: 5 d Sell: 1 d
Sticky Fix (bulk 2, fixes 1 SD, 3 doses) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d
Legion Ration (bulk 1, Food, 1 use) Buy: 1 d Sell: 1 d
Ammo (bulk 1, choose type) Buy: 1 d Sell: 0 d
Bomb Components (bulk 2) Buy: 2 d Sell: 1 d

Note: All miscellaneous gear that has a bulk of at least 1 can be sold for 1 dollari per item.


Advanced Gear

Long Sword +1 (Blade, bulk 2) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Shaking Blade +2 (Blade, bulk 2) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Heavy Mace +1 (Mace, bulk 2) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Morningstar +2 (Mace, bulk 2) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Heavy Spear +1 (Spear, bulk 3) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Impaler +2 (Spear, bulk 3) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Black Hills 5.56 +1 (Rifle, bulk 3) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Komenoi Auto Short-Scope +2 (Rifle, bulk 3) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Falcon Sidearm +1 (Handgun, bulk 2) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
Filthy Larry Hand Cannon +2 (Handgun, bulk 2) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Spetz-Grumann (S&G) Auto +1 (Shotgun, bulk 3) Buy: 5 d Sell: 2 d
S&G Crowd Manager +2 (Shotgun, bulk 3) Buy: 10 d Sell: 4 d
Medium Armor (Defense 3, bulk 3) Buy: 4 d Sell: 2 d
Light Mesh Armor (Defense 4, bulk 3) Buy: 6 d Sell: 3 d
Medium Assault Armor (Defense 5, bulk 4) Buy: 8 d Sell: 4 d

Legion Padded Upgrade Space Suit Buy: 3 d Sell: 2 d

Description: Though just as clunky as the default infantryman spacesuit, this model comes equipped with thick padding for extra protection. Upgrading to this model will raise your Suit Durability from 3 to 4. This might not sound like much, but in the vacuum of space a little extra padding can mean the difference between life and death. (Note that turning in your old model will net you 1 dollari.)

Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit Buy: 6 d Sell: 3 d

Description: This is more like it! Unlike all former models of Legion space suits, this leaner model will mark your transition from grunt to professional soldier (at least as far as appearance goes). The Form-Fitting Upgrade is not only easier to move around in, it even offers greater protection against the void. The Legion doesn’t waste this kind of material on cannon fodder; soldiers wearing this kind of gear have proven their worth to the cause. This suit has an SD of 5 and adds +2 to your max bulk, thus making it possible for you to carry extra gear. (Note that you cannot wear more than one type of space suit at a time.)

Legion “Luna” Jetpack Buy: 4 d Sell: 2 d

Description: While this jetpack is not any stronger or more responsive than your older model, it is smaller and lighter. When using the Luna model, you gain +3 to your maximum bulk, thus allowing you to carry more equipment. (Note that since your jetpack is already figured into the amount of bulk you are carrying, you will not have to worry about the weight in bulk of your jetpack.)

When you finish making your purchases, you get a call from Sybel.

“Cromulus,” he says, “can you meet me in the lounge?”

“I’m still sick from last night,” you say, dread creeping into your gut. “I can’t get crazy again, not this soon.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not like that. I stopped by to apologize to the barkeep and I noticed that that Reaver is hanging out here. I thought you might be interested in talking with him. I believe Heimdall’s coming, too.”

Decide what you want to purchase or sell, and if you wish to speak to Arius Rinpoche.

quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 11/16
SD: 3
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 63. Next level at 75.
Funds: $12

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
20 Rifle Rounds, 2 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
12/15

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

Comstar
Apr 20, 2007

Are you happy now?
AFTER THEM!

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!

Comstar posted:

AFTER THEM!

little late there bro

Hogge Wild
Aug 21, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Pillbug
Buy Komenoi Auto Short-Scope +2.
Buy Quality Aid Kit.
Talk to Arius Rinpoche.


We should have enough money when we sell our old rifle.

Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH
Better to buy extra defense, since we still can 'win' encounters even after lovely dicerolls by burning a coupe points of defense/blood.

Form-fitting space suit
Luna Jetpack

Bomb compenents
Rations

Hogge Wild
Aug 21, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Pillbug
Did we get healed?

Ghostwoods
May 9, 2013

Say "Cheese!"
Buy:
Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Legion “Luna” Jetpack
Sticky Fix
1 bulk of Rifle Rounds

Sell:
Old Space Suit

Talk to Arius Rinpoche.

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!

Hogge Wild posted:

Did we get healed?

No, they just repaired the suit.

sunburnedcrow
Dec 17, 2012
Buy a Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Talk to the super-soldier

By popular demand
Jul 17, 2007
Probation
Can't post for 20 hours!

Ghostwoods posted:

Buy:
Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Legion “Luna” Jetpack
Sticky Fix
1 bulk of Rifle Rounds

Sell:
Old Space Suit

Talk to Arius Rinpoche.

+1

Decoy Badger
May 16, 2009

Ghostwoods posted:

Buy:
Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Legion “Luna” Jetpack
Sticky Fix
1 bulk of Rifle Rounds

Sell:
Old Space Suit

Talk to Arius Rinpoche.

Following this.

corn in the bible
Jun 5, 2004

Oh no oh god it's all true!

quote:

Inventory:
Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Legion “Luna” Jetpack
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
30 Rifle Rounds, 3 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
Sticky Fix (3 doses), 2 bulk
15/20

On the way to the lounge you meet Heimdall. The young, clean-cut second-in-command doesn’t look so clean-cut after last night’s festivities. Both of you find Sybel waiting by the bar, where he surveys the Reaver from a distance. Arius sits alone, staring at his dark drink.

“Sybel,” says Heimdall, “why didn’t you approach the Reaver on your own? He’s not that intimidating, is he?”

“I called you guys because I’m no conversationalist. I tend to creep people out.”

You can’t disagree with him. The strange dream interpreter who gave you your name is frightfully pale and has a wild, distant look. He looks like a feral alley cat.

“But as it is,” says Heimdall, “we’re going to look like we’re ambushing him, if all three of us land on him at once.”

“If he’s a Reaver, he shouldn’t mind. They don’t intimidate easily, or so I’ve heard.”

Heimdall orders coffee for the three of you, then you make your way toward the Reaver.

“Mind if we have a seat?” says Heimdall.

“Sit where you like,” says Arius.

“Bit early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

“Reavers keep their own schedules. I slept while you guys were wrecking the lounge, and I woke up when you were passing out. My day’s winding down.”

You take a moment to study the man. He appears weathered, as if exposed to the elements until all that was weak in him was drained out and what remained was tough as leather. His hair is mere stubble, and his eyes are deep-set. There is something empty about his gaze. He seems to live outside the norms of human interaction, making it difficult to use what you know of people to predict what he will do next.

------------


Arius turns his eyes to you and says, “I can tell you anything that isn’t classified. The Reavers are an elite unit of special forces operatives that specialize in working solo. There are plenty of special forces that work in teams, but only the Reavers work alone. It’s not for everyone.”

“But doesn’t teamwork win battles?” Heimdall asks.

“Teams and solo operatives both do what they’re told,” says Arius. “As for battles, they’re so complicated that neither side really knows what wins them. We and the Invaders both try different methods. I guess the side that wins will get to write the book on what wins battles, and even wars, in space.”

Sybel shifts uncomfortably at this response. Arius continues. “As for the Reavers, there are three main types, each with their own training regimen. We each classify as either a Reaver Ghost, a Reaver Tactical, or a Reaver Samurai. Ghosts specialize in stealth ops and long-range combat. They’re snipers that use the void as a cloak. Tacticals are thinkers who specialize in data manipulation and human resource management. They help plan and execute classified operations. Samurais specialize in close-combat and frontline operations. Did you notice that I wore heavy armor and carried an axe? That’s because I was trained as a Samurai. But even though we’re all different, what we have in common is that we do the impossible.”

You feel an intense urge to join this elite brotherhood. “Where do you get trained to become a Reaver?” you ask. But you have no Charisma, and he doesn't seem impressed.

“You don’t just go somewhere and sign up,” says Arius. “You get picked. And if you are selected for training…” Arius hesitates. “But I can’t go into that. Reaver training is highly, highly classified. We’re the tip of the spear. If our training grounds were compromised, the Legion wouldn’t last long, and all that human potential that you fanatics hold dear wouldn’t amount to a bucket of piss.”

Sybel shakes his head, but you find it difficult to accuse the man of idle boasting. His aura is very powerful; he radiates something that seems to go beyond normal human potential.

“Just imagine,” you say quietly, “what would happen if you combined the abilities of a Reaver with the will of a human fanatic.”

“That’ll never happen,” says Arius.

“What do you mean?” says Heimdall. “Reavers represent the best fighting force our species has to offer, and people like us – human fanatics, as they say – never hold back, no matter what we do. We devote ourselves to our species. Why wouldn’t a human fanatic make for a perfect Reaver?”

Arius looks away from the young infantryman. “It’s not as simple as that,” he says.

“Come on,” you say. “We’ve fought together. You know we’re honorable people, friends even. What are you holding back?”

------------

Arius smiles. “It’s good to know that you consider us friends. I wasn’t there when they founded the Reavers. Who knows why fanatics aren’t welcome on the training grounds? If it was up to me, I wouldn’t just let you guys in, I’d force you to sign up.”

“Fanatics aren’t welcome at all on the training grounds?” Sybel asks.

“Perhaps I overstated it. It’s not written that they aren’t welcome, but their presence is… frowned upon.”

Heimdall shakes his head. “Why would the Storm Lord allow something like that to go on?”

Arius stares at him for a long time, then says, “Just remember that few things are as they seem. From your perspective, this war looks like one big shoving match between monkeys and goats riding on jetpacks. There’s more going on than you know. Probably more going on than I know, too. But… I’m sorry. I’ve probably said too much already.”
Clearly you can get nothing more out of the Reaver. “Thanks for talking with us,” says Heimdall. “I think we need some time to digest what you’ve said to us.”

“See you around, then,” says the Reaver.

When the three of you leave the lounge, Heimdall turns to you and Sybel. “You know what this means?” he says. “We have to get some of our people into the Reaver program.”

------------

You spend the next few days resting and training with the Clovers. You manage to heal 2 Blood.


There comes a day when the Penelope’s Vengeance becomes a hub of activity. Heimdall orders everyone to suit up, then Commander Uther arrives with orders.

“Looks like we’re back in the Belt,” he says, bringing up a map of the Asteroid Belt on a vid-screen in the Clovers’ quarters. The battered screen has seen more action movies than briefing sessions. “We’ve arrived at a mining station operated by the Zenith Corporation, so the second part of Operation: Sol Invictus has officially begun.”

“Don’t forget, everyone,” says Heimdall. “As far as we know, this is the last pre-Invasion human-run space station.”

“That’s right. Some of you guys might have forgotten what that means. We aren’t cloaking any of our systems, so as soon as they spot us, they’re going to panic. Keep in mind that most of these people are laborers. Slaves, really, if we’re going to be honest. It’s doubtful they know much about the Invaders. All they know is that advanced ships are running wild, Earth has gone black, and one by one stations like their own blasted into smithereens. The workers have been lied to for the past three years about what’s going on, and they’re going to take our arrival as their opportunity to go nuts. We’ve seen it before. We’ll be walking into a poo poo-storm, so be ready.”

“Speaking of being ready, sir,” says Wolf Tits, “what are we doing here, again? Killing everyone and takin’ their stuff, is that it?”

“Storm Lord almighty, son, are you serious?” says Uther.

“I mean, well, I thought I heard somethin’ about that,” says Wolf Tits. “But, uh, that briefing we had, that was some time ago, sir!”

Commander Uther sighs long and loud. “We’re rendezvousing with the Blood Goose, one of the three ships that’ll take part in the final battle of Sol Invictus alongside us. While we’re at the station, we’re going to recruit as many people as we can.” Wolf Tits appears downcast, so Uther adds, “But we’re not holding anybody’s hand when we step foot in there. If the situation seems crazy and it looks like we’re in danger, you have Captain Numitor’s permission to empty as many clips as you feel is necessary to protect your fellow humans in the Legion.”

“O-kay!” says Wolf Tits. “Now that’s more like it, sir!”

“Sir,” you say, “are we running defense for the negotiators in charge of recruitment?”

“No, Cromulus,” says Uther. “We are the recruiters.”

It takes a moment to absorb what you’ve heard. “They’re sending jetpack infantrymen to speak with civilians?”

“We’re doing this quick and dirty. If those people don’t want anything to do with the Legion, then we’re out of there in a second. We’re not wasting time with a bunch of pre-Invasion types who don’t even know who they are, much less give a poo poo about the potential of their own species. You know what they’re like, Cromulus. You’ve been on several pre-Invasion space stations.”

You can’t argue with that. You remember your desperate journey through space to return to the Penelope’s Vengeance. You were forced to deal with the inhabitants of a dead world that refused to look the Invaders in the eye and face them down. When things inevitably did not go their way, they were quick to turn on one another. Many, many times you were forced to kill humans in order to save yourself… so that you could, theoretically, save humanity. Your stomach pulls a sickening high-G backflip at the thought of stepping foot on another corporate-run, pre-Invasion space station.

“Are we going in all together, or splitting up?” you ask.

“Uh. That depends.”

Uther casts a quick look at Sybel, then he leaves to don his armor and spacesuit.

“I need to talk to you about that,” says Sybel. “Not all of us are going to be negotiating.”

“What will you be doing?” you ask.

“Something Uther doesn’t want to know about,” Sybel says quietly. “See me on the dropship, alright?”

------------

You and the other Venice Clovers suit up and make your way to the docking bay, where many other teams are either entering one large dropship or preparing to launch using only their jetpacks so they can sit on the hull of the Penelope’s Vengeance and wait for trouble. Grishnak plays a rousing metal anthem that promises victory through force of will. Many units clear out of the way when your unit marches through the bay. In the distance, you see the Geneva Scorpions making final preparations. They are a strong and respected unit, but one man stands out among them. He wears sleek armor and carries a ridiculously large sword strapped to his back. Before he dons his helm, you note that he looks quite a bit like you.

That must be my brother, Kregus,
you think.

Your guts twist into a bundle. Is he truly your brother? He had little to say to you when you met him after your long journey, in the days before Sol Invictus. You have no memory of him, just as you remember nothing else from your life before the Legion. You wonder why he has made no effort to communicate with you. He is your only link to your past. You wonder if your past was shameful, or worse, not even noteworthy at all.

I’ll have to talk to him soon, you think.

The large dropship is roomy enough to allow the other infantrymen to separate themselves from the Venice Clovers, which is just fine by your comrades. You relax for a minute while the other teams file inside, then you turn to Commander Uther.

“Sir, I take it we’ll be dividing up again. Who’s going with you?”

“Grishnak and Heimdall are coming with me to recruit whoever we can from this rabble. Someone’s already told me that we’ve been spotted by the people at the station, and they’re freaking out. There’s looting and gunfire, so be on your toes. You can come with us, if you want. It’ll be a real learning experience, if you catch my meaning.”

“Uh, not really. But sir, what about Sybel and the others?”

“Who?” says Uther. He turns away, then says, “I don’t think they’re on this dropship. As far as I know they’re back in our quarters.”

You are confused, because you can clearly see Sybel and Deeps engaged in conversation just a few feet away. Wolf Tits is with them, giggling and looking around conspiratorially.

“But they’re right-”

“No they aren’t,” says Uther. “I don’t know anything about them. You should probably speak to them before we land at the station, though.”

You shake your head and approach the others. “What’s going on?” you ask. “Why is the Commander acting so strange?”

Sybel looks about, then says, “We’re going out on a special op. Negotiating with scumbags isn’t really our forte, you know? Before the dropship docks at the station, the three of us are going to sneak off and fly to a part of the station where…”

Deeps smiles mischievously and Wolf Tits throws his head back and laughs. “What?” you ask.

“We’re going to sneak onboard and steal whatever we can. This station’s dead anyway, Cromulus. They’re sitting on all kinds of goods, and the people are running wild and killing one another anyway. They’ve been gathering precious metals for the past three years… practically working out of habit! They’ve no one to trade with anymore, but it looks like they’re still manufacturing. Who knows if any Legion ship will roll by here and take those hard-earned goods off their hands?”

“We’re going to steal all their metal?” you ask.

“Shhh!” Wolf Tits looks about in a panic, then he calms down and produces a humongous net from his backpack. “Not their metal, no. But Sybel’s been going over the station’s layout, and we have a pretty good idea of where they’re storing a bunch of awesome bull-crap. We’re going to sneak in, fill our pockets with gear, fill this bad daddy up with more poo poo than we can carry, then blow a hole in the storage room and fly out of there. Not bad, eh?”

“No… not bad at all!” you say, smiling at them.

Deeps laughs and slaps your shoulder. “The Commander, he not stupid, he know what we doing. But he not dumb, either, so officially his hand is not in this matter. You understand? He could get in trouble, so we do this quiet-like.”

“So what do you think?” says Sybel. “If you go with the Commander and the others, you might learn a thing or two. But if you go with us, you may end up with a pretty solid chunk of dollari in your account.”

You think for a moment. “I’d be talking with people if I went with the Commander,” you say. “Do you think that sort of work would require a… you know, like a charismatic sort of individual?”

Sybel shrugs. “Not necessarily. There are all kinds of different people, you know? Lots of different ways to talk to them. You just never know.”

Understanding dawns on you, and you realize that this operation could go in two very different directions. What will it be? You could go recruiting, or go with Sybel, Deeps, and Wolf Tits to raid the supplies.

quote:

Name: Cromulus
BLOOD: 13/16
SD: 4
LEVEL: 3
EXP: 63. Next level at 75.
Funds: $0

Stats:
Str 3
Int 3
Dex 4
Cha 1
Will 3

Inventory:
Legion Form-Fitting Upgrade Space Suit
Legion “Luna” Jetpack
Hard Vest (2 defense), 2 bulk
Standard Issue Rifle, 3 bulk
30 Rifle Rounds, 3 bulk
Black Legion Sidearm, 2 bulk
15 Handgun Bullets, 1 bulk
Charged Gladius (blade), 2 bulk
Sticky Fix (3 doses), 2 bulk

Skills:
Blades
Handguns
Rifles
Pilot: Small Ship
Xenology
Navigation
Sixth Sense
GC 2
ZC 3

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Krakatoah
Jul 8, 2009

Super High-School Level Bean-dog
Let's go make some 'friends'

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