Mp40 blank guns
EnoughLibertarianSpam: Aleppo Information Station
2012.04.27 02:28 EnoughLibertarianSpam: Aleppo Information Station
No brigading. View the "Critiques of Libertarianism" page here: http://critiques.us/index.php?title=Critiques_Of_Libertarianism Sick of all the conspiracy theories, racism, anti-Semitism and general douchebaggery of libertarians? You are not alone! Award for most Liberty AND Freedom out of Any Political Subreddit on Reddit- Ron Paul Bravery Award 2013
2020.12.26 06:25 AirgunHaven
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2013.04.04 17:22 JudgeWhoAllowsStuff Gun Reviews
Gun reviews.
2024.05.16 16:40 CompassWithHat Top Lasgun: Broadsides
FIRST CHAPTER
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
//////////
Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]
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PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
//////////
Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]
2024.05.16 15:34 FuzzyyFox I finished Far Cry New Dawn for the first time...
Marked as a spoiler as the post will be discussing events and characters from both New Dawn and 5
So about a week or so ago I uploaded a post talking about my experiences with finishing Far Cry 5 for the first time. It done pretty well and I had a great time discussing so many different aspects that I said I'd follow it up with New Dawn. And after a gradual playthrough, here I am again.
The first thing that caught my attention was the world. Obviously the map itself is a mirror of Far Cry 5 and, to my knowledge, Primal(?) but the actual world design was just so beautiful. The vibrant colours with the floral and animals felt stunning to look at to the point where I spent a lot of the early game (from roughly Prosperity to Hopes End and surrounding areas) exclusively walking place to place simply because the way the world was designed felt so beautiful. The flourishing nature mixed with the broken remnants of human civilisations with old buildings, cars and other objects was so fun to explore especially when comparing what we see in Far Cry 5 to their changes in New Dawn. In the world's I have currently had extensive exploration in (4, 5 and New Dawn), New Dawn is by far the most visually and aesthetically pleasing to look at.
Characters. Starting with the Guns/Fangs For Hires (GFFH's), the roster was a massive improvement over 5. In 5 there was not much to be behold. Sure the characters each had their own personality but building any sort of relationship with them felt difficult as they just didn't feel very connected. That's not to say they were bad in their own way but the only one I really wanted to stick around was Jess and she wasn't unlocked till the final act of (my) playthrough so it felt more like tacking her on because she was my favourite and nothing more. This was immediately fixed with Carmine in New Dawn. You get her right at the very start of the story and she was the one that I kept with me the entire game (save for a few minor instances). She was with me in both the beginning and the end and you can physically see her personality evolve. At the start she's a fairly timidish kid who you can tell is still adapting to fighting in the world. But as the story progresses she becomes more confident, even swearing vengeance. But you also see how she holds herself to blame for so many actions which makes sense since she was the one who brought Rush and the Train to Hope County. The progression and connection with her was exactly what I wanted in 5 and just wasn't something you got with any of the characters in my opinion. Even beyond Carmine the roster was so unique that each had some sort of lasting impression. Jerome, a fan favourite returning now as a permanent ally. Nana, a bad ass old woman because who doesn't love having an elder kicking ass at their side? The Judge who I swear if Carmine wasn't so good would've been my instant permanent knowing who they were, what they'd been through. Honestly I love everything about them in this way and the fact I was limited only to 1 was heart breaking. Hurk is an ever returning character in the series in some form or another, but him having a partner who seemed just as crazy as him that doubled as an ally was so cool, i just hate that im blanking on her name. Timber may have just felt like a Boomer replacement but in a way I think that that is the best thing for it. It feels similar while also feeling like a reincarnation of a loved ally. And then Horatio... do we need to describe why the pig is so cool? I haven't actually unlocked Horatio yet but I mean come on. It's a boar. Who's name is Horatio. I love him. Even with the NPCs, the mix of returning characters, both physically like the Rye Family and Joseph Seed or through notes like Skylar or the comic book girl, who's treasure hunt was so sick by the way, and New characters like Ethan and the Twins all felt so impartial to the world showing the mix of old world Survivor's and new world builders. But when it comes to Joseph, Ethan and the Twins I'll go more into detail with them further below
Mechanics. Obviously this game marks the first of the series with a number of new features such as ranks, crafting materials, health bars, there was a lot of significant changes but honestly? I'm not mad about them. Although I said crafting different ranks of guns was new here we did actually see a similar feature in Primal where the weapons were continuously upgraded to better ranks. This was just the natural extension of such in a way that felt very fitting to the aesthetic of the game. The gun designs were great the way so much junk was turned into different attachments like Bayonets, silencers, scopes etc. Health bars just aren't that big if a deal and if anything are more helpful for understanding the challenges ahead. However I do also see why people aren't a big fan of them so I believe an option to turn them off should've been added. Overall I loved the way these Mechanics worked I think they were super fun and refreshing
Twins, Joseph and Ethan... the highlights of the game. I'll start with the Twins because they're the easiest. Despite what people think they're fine. They're not bad in any way I can see. They're doing what people do in an Apocalypse. We find loads of notes from before the highway men that say other people didn't trust each other and stole form each other and were ready to kill each other. And the truth is despite the peaceful treaty between New Eden and Properity, neither of them cared to help each other survive. New Eden didn't help when Prosperity attacked and Prosperity didn't help when New Eden was attacked. The only reason they were working together was because they both wanted rid of the Highway Men who threatened their peaceful wishes. But it's because of the environment that I think people don't like the Twins so much. Think about Vaas. About Pagan Min. About Joseph Seed. Each of them are horrible lunatics, psychopaths living in OUR world. Living in a functional society. Breaking the norms and peace of a society for their own twisted gains. They cause chaos. But when there is no society to follow, and everything is already chaos, people causing chaos just aren't that fucked up. Aren't that relatable. They're looking out for themselves in the worst way possible but doing it in the worst possible scenario already. Other villains are impartial because when they do in their respective games is terrifying at the thought of that happening in real life. But we all know if we were in New Dawn, everyone would act like the Twins anyway. Pagan Min stabs a guy in the neck for shooting a bus filled with rebels. Vaas kidnaps tourists and kills/tortures them. Joseph Seed runs a cult where everyone in it is of themselves tortured, drugged and brainwashed. The Twins aren't any different to any other Highway Men. And I think that's why people don't like them. Because they're not impactful. Especially when you learn that there are other Highway Men throughout the New USA. Some of which even seem to be implied as bigger threats. A followup game where some sort of Highway Men super leader comes to Hope County and totally ruins it again as an act of revenge for standing up to them would be so much more impact full. A true threat. And to make it new, Kim might tell you that the people and resources of Hope County can't defeat someone like that. So the protagonist chases them to a new area of the US to recruit new people to stand up to them. Just a thought though.
Joseph and Ethan... Ethan had every right to be mad to be honest. Joseph as a character has fulfilled his purpose by the time New Dawn comes around. He claimed the collapse was coming. He prepared everyone for it and although not everyone, many did survive. Those who did rose from the bunkers but Joseph had nothing left to teach. All he could do was guide them into New Eden, a self sustaining utopia where man and animal live in harmony living only off the land taking only what was needed. He had done his purpose. But the people saw he was right and couldn't live without his guidance. To him he really was the shepherd of God who had guided them out of destruction. But what more could he teach? He was no longer a preacher. He was no longer a leader. With this, he had nothing left to teach Ethan. What could he teach him? How the collapse was to come? It had already come. And his mother Megan admits that Ethan was raised as a non-believer. Ethan from a young age did not believe in the religious basing that New Eden was founded upon. And he saw what New Eden had become. They were held back, restricted by the beliefs and limitations that Joseph's word had built them into. And when Joseph found his new purpose, the watchman over what he perceived as God's Holy Fruit, Ethan was left as the stand in. But none of them listened to him. No one wanted to move on, to better the world. They wanted to keep to themselves, and double down on Joseph's beliefs even when he had none left. Then the Security Captain shows up. A total stranger. Someone who just like Ethan is working to build a better world. Their strategies may have been different, with Ethan still wanting a self sustaining Utopia as evidence by his clothing, but the security captain still relished in the old ways of society. Two different approaches to meet the same goal. And yet Ethan, despite all of his efforts was met with nothing. No one listened to him. They all turned their backs on him once Joseph returned from his recluse just to crown the SC as their leader. Of course he was going to be mad. I think that after SC is met as the leader, and Ethan turns to the Twins for a deal, I think that's where his sympathy and logic come to a halt. He no longer wanted a better world he was just driven by revenge. But each of their characters were so good and I had to do some thorough research into whether to spare Joseph or kill/Release him. I ultimately chose to spare him but only really because his body apparently just disappears and to me that didn't really make canonical sense for it to just poof XD
In conclusion, the game was absolutely fantastic and I could still say so much more so just like my post on FC5 I hope we can have a lot of good discussions :) if you made it this far, thank you :)
submitted by FuzzyyFox to farcry [link] [comments]
So about a week or so ago I uploaded a post talking about my experiences with finishing Far Cry 5 for the first time. It done pretty well and I had a great time discussing so many different aspects that I said I'd follow it up with New Dawn. And after a gradual playthrough, here I am again.
The first thing that caught my attention was the world. Obviously the map itself is a mirror of Far Cry 5 and, to my knowledge, Primal(?) but the actual world design was just so beautiful. The vibrant colours with the floral and animals felt stunning to look at to the point where I spent a lot of the early game (from roughly Prosperity to Hopes End and surrounding areas) exclusively walking place to place simply because the way the world was designed felt so beautiful. The flourishing nature mixed with the broken remnants of human civilisations with old buildings, cars and other objects was so fun to explore especially when comparing what we see in Far Cry 5 to their changes in New Dawn. In the world's I have currently had extensive exploration in (4, 5 and New Dawn), New Dawn is by far the most visually and aesthetically pleasing to look at.
Characters. Starting with the Guns/Fangs For Hires (GFFH's), the roster was a massive improvement over 5. In 5 there was not much to be behold. Sure the characters each had their own personality but building any sort of relationship with them felt difficult as they just didn't feel very connected. That's not to say they were bad in their own way but the only one I really wanted to stick around was Jess and she wasn't unlocked till the final act of (my) playthrough so it felt more like tacking her on because she was my favourite and nothing more. This was immediately fixed with Carmine in New Dawn. You get her right at the very start of the story and she was the one that I kept with me the entire game (save for a few minor instances). She was with me in both the beginning and the end and you can physically see her personality evolve. At the start she's a fairly timidish kid who you can tell is still adapting to fighting in the world. But as the story progresses she becomes more confident, even swearing vengeance. But you also see how she holds herself to blame for so many actions which makes sense since she was the one who brought Rush and the Train to Hope County. The progression and connection with her was exactly what I wanted in 5 and just wasn't something you got with any of the characters in my opinion. Even beyond Carmine the roster was so unique that each had some sort of lasting impression. Jerome, a fan favourite returning now as a permanent ally. Nana, a bad ass old woman because who doesn't love having an elder kicking ass at their side? The Judge who I swear if Carmine wasn't so good would've been my instant permanent knowing who they were, what they'd been through. Honestly I love everything about them in this way and the fact I was limited only to 1 was heart breaking. Hurk is an ever returning character in the series in some form or another, but him having a partner who seemed just as crazy as him that doubled as an ally was so cool, i just hate that im blanking on her name. Timber may have just felt like a Boomer replacement but in a way I think that that is the best thing for it. It feels similar while also feeling like a reincarnation of a loved ally. And then Horatio... do we need to describe why the pig is so cool? I haven't actually unlocked Horatio yet but I mean come on. It's a boar. Who's name is Horatio. I love him. Even with the NPCs, the mix of returning characters, both physically like the Rye Family and Joseph Seed or through notes like Skylar or the comic book girl, who's treasure hunt was so sick by the way, and New characters like Ethan and the Twins all felt so impartial to the world showing the mix of old world Survivor's and new world builders. But when it comes to Joseph, Ethan and the Twins I'll go more into detail with them further below
Mechanics. Obviously this game marks the first of the series with a number of new features such as ranks, crafting materials, health bars, there was a lot of significant changes but honestly? I'm not mad about them. Although I said crafting different ranks of guns was new here we did actually see a similar feature in Primal where the weapons were continuously upgraded to better ranks. This was just the natural extension of such in a way that felt very fitting to the aesthetic of the game. The gun designs were great the way so much junk was turned into different attachments like Bayonets, silencers, scopes etc. Health bars just aren't that big if a deal and if anything are more helpful for understanding the challenges ahead. However I do also see why people aren't a big fan of them so I believe an option to turn them off should've been added. Overall I loved the way these Mechanics worked I think they were super fun and refreshing
Twins, Joseph and Ethan... the highlights of the game. I'll start with the Twins because they're the easiest. Despite what people think they're fine. They're not bad in any way I can see. They're doing what people do in an Apocalypse. We find loads of notes from before the highway men that say other people didn't trust each other and stole form each other and were ready to kill each other. And the truth is despite the peaceful treaty between New Eden and Properity, neither of them cared to help each other survive. New Eden didn't help when Prosperity attacked and Prosperity didn't help when New Eden was attacked. The only reason they were working together was because they both wanted rid of the Highway Men who threatened their peaceful wishes. But it's because of the environment that I think people don't like the Twins so much. Think about Vaas. About Pagan Min. About Joseph Seed. Each of them are horrible lunatics, psychopaths living in OUR world. Living in a functional society. Breaking the norms and peace of a society for their own twisted gains. They cause chaos. But when there is no society to follow, and everything is already chaos, people causing chaos just aren't that fucked up. Aren't that relatable. They're looking out for themselves in the worst way possible but doing it in the worst possible scenario already. Other villains are impartial because when they do in their respective games is terrifying at the thought of that happening in real life. But we all know if we were in New Dawn, everyone would act like the Twins anyway. Pagan Min stabs a guy in the neck for shooting a bus filled with rebels. Vaas kidnaps tourists and kills/tortures them. Joseph Seed runs a cult where everyone in it is of themselves tortured, drugged and brainwashed. The Twins aren't any different to any other Highway Men. And I think that's why people don't like them. Because they're not impactful. Especially when you learn that there are other Highway Men throughout the New USA. Some of which even seem to be implied as bigger threats. A followup game where some sort of Highway Men super leader comes to Hope County and totally ruins it again as an act of revenge for standing up to them would be so much more impact full. A true threat. And to make it new, Kim might tell you that the people and resources of Hope County can't defeat someone like that. So the protagonist chases them to a new area of the US to recruit new people to stand up to them. Just a thought though.
Joseph and Ethan... Ethan had every right to be mad to be honest. Joseph as a character has fulfilled his purpose by the time New Dawn comes around. He claimed the collapse was coming. He prepared everyone for it and although not everyone, many did survive. Those who did rose from the bunkers but Joseph had nothing left to teach. All he could do was guide them into New Eden, a self sustaining utopia where man and animal live in harmony living only off the land taking only what was needed. He had done his purpose. But the people saw he was right and couldn't live without his guidance. To him he really was the shepherd of God who had guided them out of destruction. But what more could he teach? He was no longer a preacher. He was no longer a leader. With this, he had nothing left to teach Ethan. What could he teach him? How the collapse was to come? It had already come. And his mother Megan admits that Ethan was raised as a non-believer. Ethan from a young age did not believe in the religious basing that New Eden was founded upon. And he saw what New Eden had become. They were held back, restricted by the beliefs and limitations that Joseph's word had built them into. And when Joseph found his new purpose, the watchman over what he perceived as God's Holy Fruit, Ethan was left as the stand in. But none of them listened to him. No one wanted to move on, to better the world. They wanted to keep to themselves, and double down on Joseph's beliefs even when he had none left. Then the Security Captain shows up. A total stranger. Someone who just like Ethan is working to build a better world. Their strategies may have been different, with Ethan still wanting a self sustaining Utopia as evidence by his clothing, but the security captain still relished in the old ways of society. Two different approaches to meet the same goal. And yet Ethan, despite all of his efforts was met with nothing. No one listened to him. They all turned their backs on him once Joseph returned from his recluse just to crown the SC as their leader. Of course he was going to be mad. I think that after SC is met as the leader, and Ethan turns to the Twins for a deal, I think that's where his sympathy and logic come to a halt. He no longer wanted a better world he was just driven by revenge. But each of their characters were so good and I had to do some thorough research into whether to spare Joseph or kill/Release him. I ultimately chose to spare him but only really because his body apparently just disappears and to me that didn't really make canonical sense for it to just poof XD
In conclusion, the game was absolutely fantastic and I could still say so much more so just like my post on FC5 I hope we can have a lot of good discussions :) if you made it this far, thank you :)
2024.05.16 11:40 Another1downthehole Idk if this really goes here but it feels right
For context I callmy step dad (dad) and i call my actuall dad buche cause i never knew him like a father alight thats it
Well i got alot tbh that i dont even know where to start. Well ig first im already in my 20’s and it all started to go downhill since i was 7 my dad got deported to salvador for hitting my mom and fighting so loud that the cops came cause the neighbors called them. But before that i had told my dad to stop hitting my mom ( me trying to defend my mom the only way i could but i can only remember i was scared for my life ) and he scram at me telling me to stfu cause im not even his kid
In that moment everything went blank i was confused and flabbergasted not knowing what was coming after this
I remember running down the hall to the apartment complex next to us where out aunt lived (this was before the cops got here) we where getting away from him because he told us he had a gun and he was going to kill all of us and them him self cause he wasn’t going to let a slut do whatever she wanter with his kids ( my mom told us years later that in the months before he had started to use cocaine with one of her uncles and he had guns always and thats probably wher he got that bs from)
After he left everything got harder and we would barely see my mom she would work up to 2 jobs in the day and in the night she would work as a bar tender in cantinas witch to say the least its a horrible job But she did wtv to get us ahead Until one day i got courios of who was my real dad and u asked my mom all she told me was that he was really young when they where dating and that he ditched when she was pregnant with me She had never mentioned him before and i had never asked but i was always courious since the day my dad got deported i had messaged him on facebook and we started to text and i asked him to meet up and he agreed
(I went to his house this was when i was around 11 or 12 ) i had went to his house it was a nice big house with 4 rooms a pool and the whole thing while me my mom and my 2 brothers and my 2 uncles and there families where living in a 3 room apartment to say i was jealous is an understatement but i keep my cool especially since i had not even seen him much since he had spent his whole time in his room wich was weird cause he had said over text that he wanted to have a talk bu wtv after all that i was annoyed especially since i had told him i was going to miss a day of work if i went to see him(since it was summer and i would work with my uncle ) but he had told me he would take me to get my hair cut and would give me my days worth of pay and at the end he didn’t even have de audacity to take me to get my hair cut but anyways at the end of the day i never needed him
Well after that my mom got sick we where living with my uncle in a house and since there was problems between his wife and us and then they found out i smoked weed they decided to move and we had till the end of the contract to see what to do i started to work and left school and tbh for a while stuff seemed to go well i was making alot in remodeling for my age and i was going up in the ranks but when job went down and people started being let go i was fucked cause i had no money saved so i lost my job car and was close to losing our apartment but i got job again and kept us aflot tbh there is alot more to this but depends how this go il goninto more details but yhea just glad to chare a lil of what has happend to me
submitted by Another1downthehole to Truthoffmychest [link] [comments]
Well i got alot tbh that i dont even know where to start. Well ig first im already in my 20’s and it all started to go downhill since i was 7 my dad got deported to salvador for hitting my mom and fighting so loud that the cops came cause the neighbors called them. But before that i had told my dad to stop hitting my mom ( me trying to defend my mom the only way i could but i can only remember i was scared for my life ) and he scram at me telling me to stfu cause im not even his kid
In that moment everything went blank i was confused and flabbergasted not knowing what was coming after this
I remember running down the hall to the apartment complex next to us where out aunt lived (this was before the cops got here) we where getting away from him because he told us he had a gun and he was going to kill all of us and them him self cause he wasn’t going to let a slut do whatever she wanter with his kids ( my mom told us years later that in the months before he had started to use cocaine with one of her uncles and he had guns always and thats probably wher he got that bs from)
After he left everything got harder and we would barely see my mom she would work up to 2 jobs in the day and in the night she would work as a bar tender in cantinas witch to say the least its a horrible job But she did wtv to get us ahead Until one day i got courios of who was my real dad and u asked my mom all she told me was that he was really young when they where dating and that he ditched when she was pregnant with me She had never mentioned him before and i had never asked but i was always courious since the day my dad got deported i had messaged him on facebook and we started to text and i asked him to meet up and he agreed
(I went to his house this was when i was around 11 or 12 ) i had went to his house it was a nice big house with 4 rooms a pool and the whole thing while me my mom and my 2 brothers and my 2 uncles and there families where living in a 3 room apartment to say i was jealous is an understatement but i keep my cool especially since i had not even seen him much since he had spent his whole time in his room wich was weird cause he had said over text that he wanted to have a talk bu wtv after all that i was annoyed especially since i had told him i was going to miss a day of work if i went to see him(since it was summer and i would work with my uncle ) but he had told me he would take me to get my hair cut and would give me my days worth of pay and at the end he didn’t even have de audacity to take me to get my hair cut but anyways at the end of the day i never needed him
Well after that my mom got sick we where living with my uncle in a house and since there was problems between his wife and us and then they found out i smoked weed they decided to move and we had till the end of the contract to see what to do i started to work and left school and tbh for a while stuff seemed to go well i was making alot in remodeling for my age and i was going up in the ranks but when job went down and people started being let go i was fucked cause i had no money saved so i lost my job car and was close to losing our apartment but i got job again and kept us aflot tbh there is alot more to this but depends how this go il goninto more details but yhea just glad to chare a lil of what has happend to me
2024.05.16 10:13 Tiny_Bug2742 The Nature of evil
In the bowels of the earth, there thrives a city unseen. Streets like veins run deep, each path a story carved from the very stone. Buildings stand, not reaching for the sky but in defiance of the abyss. Their walls a tapestry of lives lived in the shadows. Candlelight flickers, a silent testament to those who endure.
Stoneford's gaze sweeps the expanse. "This is Edîñbûrgh. Here power is the only law, the only truth. A place of ruins, of remnants." A commotion, a man beaten, unnoticed. Saburo's voice, a whisper in the dark. "Why does no one help?"
Stoneford watches, unmoved. "Commonplace, this violence. The dead lie as detritus, guts spilled upon the tracks. This is the den of the damned, a haven for the violent. Embrace the chaos or be consumed by it."
They continue walking, the dust floor, people with all kinds of ethnicity, religion, belief resides here. A large crowd have circled a pile of rocks, and there a man standing, The zealot doctrine is preaching something, but the crowd was against him throwing rock's calling him names.
"Nah, it's just one of those guys trying to preach there deform construct of fate." Stoneford said, Sigh's "Let's go, wait what are you? Hey! Where are you going!" Saburo didn't listen and Stoneford lost him to the crowd.
"Have they heard our cries?! The church doesn't deserve to hold such authority! They have poison our mind with there doctrine! For it's wall's are built by there lies!" One of the crowd shouted "How dare you speak against the tongues of men?!" The people agreed screaming at him. "Yeah!" "Blasphemy!" "Thy tongue speak the devil mischief!"
"Whom ever seek the truth! Come forward and I'll show you the true path into discovering the secrets of the world! Not like those who burn the scrolls have saw that great event!" He looks at Saburo's direction pointing at him. "You there, come forward my child, i saw horror's beyond what eyes can see." He extends his hands. "I show you the truth, the wanders of this world."
...
We raided a establishment, we take all them hostage, the building is filled with screams and terror, and one of them was a pregnant woman, with her child between 5-7 years old. "Please spare us! Just kill me and not my child! I'm begging you!" She kneels to us. "Hey! Saburo why are you doing there! Shoot them!" My hands are shaking, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?! SABURO!" My mind was in a blank space, a lead that pull both my arms between what's right and wrong. I don't know what to do then suddenly. "Give me that!" He pulls the gun to me shooting both of them, there body falls like a ragdoll. "What is that saburo?!" My eyes are shock.
I fell in love with violence and blood shedding, i started laughing, like a rabbid dog that have broken to a cage, i see my enemy's like none other than a cog. There blood spilling what fills my hunger for wrath, that each kill forms the image of my deceased mother, that her death will relinquish it. I mounted a camel along with my companions, we decimated the dessert of dawn
Musket shot, bodies falling to the heat of battle, his laugh is heard across the battlefield. That of a maniac. His dancing, and dancing he says he will never die, he painted himself with the blood of his enemies. "You gave us more trouble than the king of abyss!" At that day he earned the nickname "lion of the dessert." famously known as "The laughing clown of death."
"War is triggered by ones different form of belief, war was there before men, and that man loved it, children and old people love it too. But those who've fallen at the battle we're not remembered, that war is for the entertainment, that moral conduct doesn't apply for sharping sword or axes."
"As long the concept of life and death, many will fall, and one will stand to them all. "But they share one common thing, is that they protect what is right for them, for it's there way of life."
submitted by Tiny_Bug2742 to stories [link] [comments]
Stoneford's gaze sweeps the expanse. "This is Edîñbûrgh. Here power is the only law, the only truth. A place of ruins, of remnants." A commotion, a man beaten, unnoticed. Saburo's voice, a whisper in the dark. "Why does no one help?"
Stoneford watches, unmoved. "Commonplace, this violence. The dead lie as detritus, guts spilled upon the tracks. This is the den of the damned, a haven for the violent. Embrace the chaos or be consumed by it."
They continue walking, the dust floor, people with all kinds of ethnicity, religion, belief resides here. A large crowd have circled a pile of rocks, and there a man standing, The zealot doctrine is preaching something, but the crowd was against him throwing rock's calling him names.
"Nah, it's just one of those guys trying to preach there deform construct of fate." Stoneford said, Sigh's "Let's go, wait what are you? Hey! Where are you going!" Saburo didn't listen and Stoneford lost him to the crowd.
"Have they heard our cries?! The church doesn't deserve to hold such authority! They have poison our mind with there doctrine! For it's wall's are built by there lies!" One of the crowd shouted "How dare you speak against the tongues of men?!" The people agreed screaming at him. "Yeah!" "Blasphemy!" "Thy tongue speak the devil mischief!"
"Whom ever seek the truth! Come forward and I'll show you the true path into discovering the secrets of the world! Not like those who burn the scrolls have saw that great event!" He looks at Saburo's direction pointing at him. "You there, come forward my child, i saw horror's beyond what eyes can see." He extends his hands. "I show you the truth, the wanders of this world."
...
We raided a establishment, we take all them hostage, the building is filled with screams and terror, and one of them was a pregnant woman, with her child between 5-7 years old. "Please spare us! Just kill me and not my child! I'm begging you!" She kneels to us. "Hey! Saburo why are you doing there! Shoot them!" My hands are shaking, "CAN YOU HEAR ME?! SABURO!" My mind was in a blank space, a lead that pull both my arms between what's right and wrong. I don't know what to do then suddenly. "Give me that!" He pulls the gun to me shooting both of them, there body falls like a ragdoll. "What is that saburo?!" My eyes are shock.
I fell in love with violence and blood shedding, i started laughing, like a rabbid dog that have broken to a cage, i see my enemy's like none other than a cog. There blood spilling what fills my hunger for wrath, that each kill forms the image of my deceased mother, that her death will relinquish it. I mounted a camel along with my companions, we decimated the dessert of dawn
Musket shot, bodies falling to the heat of battle, his laugh is heard across the battlefield. That of a maniac. His dancing, and dancing he says he will never die, he painted himself with the blood of his enemies. "You gave us more trouble than the king of abyss!" At that day he earned the nickname "lion of the dessert." famously known as "The laughing clown of death."
"War is triggered by ones different form of belief, war was there before men, and that man loved it, children and old people love it too. But those who've fallen at the battle we're not remembered, that war is for the entertainment, that moral conduct doesn't apply for sharping sword or axes."
"As long the concept of life and death, many will fall, and one will stand to them all. "But they share one common thing, is that they protect what is right for them, for it's there way of life."
2024.05.16 07:38 Mountain_Counter929 Making Aliens based off every pokemon type combination (Fighting)
Fighting/Normal: OHKO (One Punch Man but instead of one effortless punch it’s a touch of death combo he has to )
Species: Mugen
Planet: Sonof
Appearance
Fighting/Grass: Doungwun Nemetrix predator of the Chunwin (See Kung book in Grass Types)
Appearance
Fighting/Fire: Racaln the Nemetrix predator of the Clabestro (See Firing Squad in Fire types)
Appearance
Fighting/Water: Ultimate Slush (See Original in Water Types)
Appearance
Appearance
Appearance
Appearance
Fighting/Ground: Ultimate Mudripper (See Original in Ground Types)
Appearance
Appearance
Fighting/Bug: Ultimate Float Stinger (See Original in Bug Types)
Appearance
Species: Reffox
Planet: Arbeitar
Appearance
Fighting/Poison: Biolence (Fist of the North Star Powered by drugs, and can weaponize their own explosions )
Species: Gomane Planet: Omawoshindyu
Appearance
Fighting/Ghost: Body-structor (Havik from MK1 with hints of Water Law from One Piece)
Species: Rankensain
Planet: Taxodoom
Appearance
Fighting/Dragon: Medisnake (Combat Snake with Street Fighter Chi abilities)
Species: Ansatryu
Planet: Chakrenin
Appearance:
Fighting/Steel: Weapon Blaster (Tank Knight with hand guns that shoots bladed weapons) Species: Arthmo
Planet: Palawar
Appearance
Fighting/Dark: Spotshot
Species: Dalmate
Planet: Cerberence
Appearance
Fighting/Fairy: Best-O Change-O (Magical Girl/Boy Recruiting Bunny)
Species: Usegin
Planet: Lunakessho
Appearance
submitted by Mountain_Counter929 to Ben10 [link] [comments]
Species: Mugen
Planet: Sonof
Appearance
- Humanoid blank white body
- Thick Smooth/Blocky appearance (like made of pillows)
- Headband and Gi are common wares
- Enhanced Strength
- Unlimited Stamina
- Extremely High Pain Tolerance
- Semi-Mechanical Nature does not need to eat, sleep, or breathe
- Unaging
- Slight combat prowess
- Slightly stuns the opponent on contact with physical force (specifically after a physical hit. Applies to non living beings as well)
- Once an attack lands, it’ll receive enough energy to continue physically attacking it in a never-ending combo. Dealing blows significantly faster, gaining strength with each hit and eventually able to deal noticeable damage to almost any target with each hit.
- Slow movement
- Limited Fighting Capabilities
- Attacks are usually short
- Can extend reach but takes notable time so it needs to make an effort to land combo
- Combo can be interrupted, loses momentum and needs to land another hit when it does.
Fighting/Grass: Doungwun Nemetrix predator of the Chunwin (See Kung book in Grass Types)
Appearance
- Green Body
- Mantis like Body
- 2 Pairs of claws with sharp fanged ends, each with a long membrane hanging off of them.
- Multiple pair of locust-like wings under where abdomen should be.
- Reptilian head
- Pupilless Eyes
- Flight
- High reflexes
- Claws able to capture and break of Chunwin limbs, and attach to body of prey.
- Membranes absorb attack from Chunwin
- Long retractible tongue able to launch with precision and strength, able to pierce the body and grasp onto vital organs.
Fighting/Fire: Racaln the Nemetrix predator of the Clabestro (See Firing Squad in Fire types)
Appearance
- Large translucent viscous puddle with various organs inside, including left overs from prey
- A lot of mouths and eyes
- Able to reconfigure organs inside body
- Able to raise body in multiple large bumps of various sizes, which usually containing organs
- Raises body with jaw to consume prey on its body
- Full sensory of targets on its liquid body
- Viscous body can regenerate (and even split into multiple organisms)
- Prey stable on body is inflicted with Hallucinogenic and Auditory illusions, to make them unable to see and hear others allowing the Racaln to strike admit this confusion
- Also able to block telepathic and electronic communication
- Able to use the natural weapons of digested prey (ie the guns of the Clabestro)
Fighting/Water: Ultimate Slush (See Original in Water Types)
Appearance
- Dark Green Body
- Loses gourd
- Various sharp attachments that have the appearance of the sharp bottlenecks of broken bottle
- Core with an unbalanced changing color in head
- Retain expert flexibility
- More aggressive fighting style (while retaining it’s drunken boxer like moves)
- Fire Projection
- Can’t feel pain
- Core hypnotizes targets on sight, intoxicating them
- Able to use sharp accessories
- More Violent personality
- Can’t spill out body to trip opponents
- Loses Elasticity
Appearance
- Long thin build made of lightning
- Normally invisible
- Invisibility
- Intangibility
- Invincibility
- Whenever an Influx of energy (Any kind) in an area appears:
- Able to instantly teleport to any place where the energy is dispersed
- Doing so attacking the target with massive strength directly proportional to energy
- Once energy subsides or moves outside of energy influx, body becomes invisible/intangible again
- When visible, can absorb all kinds of energy
- Able to unleash a large burst of both sound and light with absorbed energy
- Unable to extend body parts
- Can only deal damage in large bursts of energy
- Is no longer invincible when exposed a large energy influx in a prolonged duration
Appearance
- Black/Brown coloring scheme
- Face is more crow like
- Tails are longer
- Hawk-like eyes and wings
- Larger body
- Stronger
- Faster
- Enhanced Senses
- Slight Danger Senses
- Hypnotic Stare
- Invokes Intimidation into targets provoking them into either fighting or running
- When staring at foes, they’re able to read gains seconds precognition into multiple visions whether they fight or fly and combinations of timelines when they do both. Visions show what they would do, but is able to be altered with the newfound knowledge in real time.
- Precognition can predict unknown interferences like hidden dangers
- Heightened intelligence and brain processing speed to plan out effective strategy to hunt or combat their attempts
- Unable to split self into two forms
- Using hypnotic stare on multiple targets can overwhelm self
- Predicted precognitive visions can be avoided if target resists hypnosis making them prep for things that won’t happen
Appearance
- Skeletally thin limbs
- Very lanky frame (usually hunched over)
- Large Wooly body
- Long clawed fingers
- Sharp Teeth
- Immunity to cold
- Silent movement
- Inflicts hallucinations on target nearby especially Ashe
- Inflicts shadowy hallucination of a competitive animal (usually the same as the affected prey) causing the target to continuously attack hallucination.
- Target eventually tires out attacking hallucination, losing adrenaline and succumbing to hypothermia or exhaustion.
Fighting/Ground: Ultimate Mudripper (See Original in Ground Types)
Appearance
- Diamond Skin
- Loses eyes
- Elongated Snout
- Six pairs of short legs
- Clawed Hands
- Glass Hairs
- Loses Tail
- Enhanced Smelling Senses
- Heatproof
- Durable and ough Diamond Skin
- Sharp Claws
- High Speed Burrowing
- Thermo-adaptation
- Able to resurface lava and create lava motes/small volcanos on ground from underneath
- Drooling Lava Saliva
- Able to walk on surfaces
- Vacuum Adaptation
- Loss of Eyesight
- Can’t Jump
- Unable to grab object with claws as well as base form hands
- Can’t Swim
Appearance
- Sheep-based body
- Green Wool
- Flowers growing on body
- Wool is able to absorb strong impacts
- Vine-like tendrils on side of body able to connect to cliffsides
- Able to camouflage selves into a grass pile
- Grows a disconnected field perpendicular to the cliffside making it look its prey is on the ground
- Field camouflaged to be unable to be seen from below
- Able to communicate with Sabter to trick it on standing on the field, of the cliff before falling to their deaths.
Fighting/Bug: Ultimate Float Stinger (See Original in Bug Types)
Appearance
- Slightly bigger body
- Longer wasp like structure
- New Vertical striped black and white body
- Able to summon a near indestructible hive shaped structure
- This pocket dimension draws in 2 individuals (which can include the creator) into an arena pocket dimension.
- Telepathic communication with all individuals in pocket dimensions
- Individuals in the pocket dimension must follow certain reality altering conditions to set a “fair fight”
- This usually includes removal of “powers” but can also vary to have no removal or even the addition of powers
- Fight doesn’t have to be direct combat and more of a much as a sport
- Individual size are usually scaled to be relatively similar
- Individuals leaves once one or both is considered ‘defeated’ or by the creator’s permission
- Rules set in arena must be made to be fair for both individuals
- No longer able to project honey to prevent powers
- Slightly slower and weaker outside of hives
- Reality altering rules only affect targets inside a hive
Species: Reffox
Planet: Arbeitar
Appearance
- Tall Humanoid muscular appearance
- Body looks skinless and made of muscles
- Egg-shapd head and single eye
- Enhanced Atleticism
- High combat p rowess
- Able to slowly build up strength and speed
- Photographic reflexes
- When looking at any moving target, able to quickly learn, memorize, and mimic that targets moves allowing them to be able to come up with a counter for it.
- Also applies to their use of tools
- Can only memorize and mimic movements not powers
- Can only enhance strength and speed in short bursts
- May be at risks for learning ineffective techniques
Fighting/Poison: Biolence (Fist of the North Star Powered by drugs, and can weaponize their own explosions )
Species: Gomane Planet: Omawoshindyu
Appearance
- Rough Green Skin
- Orc Like Head
- Muscular Build
- Costume comes with a mouth-covering mask
- Large Hands
- Enhanced Strength
- Strength and size are gradually enhances from absorbing normally hazardous or even just unhealthy substances
- Body is slowly producing its own internal toxins
- Noxious Stench
- Poisons eventually build up into large cysts on skin that eventually bursts into powerful noxious and slightly toxic gas expulsion when ‘popped’, able to do damage from force
- Able to control cyst development early
- Cysts become more powerful with more hazardous substances given
- Able to transfer poisonous cyst development onto others from force of contact, usually other species skin is not built to handle the expulsion causing damage when they pop
- When exposed to hazard substances, the Cysts become faster developed and harder to control possibly hindering the body
- Loses strength build after cyst has popped
- Mind can be altered to be more violent depending on hazardous substances consumed, commonly manifests in an addiction or violent temperament (usually removed when expelled)
Fighting/Ghost: Body-structor (Havik from MK1 with hints of Water Law from One Piece)
Species: Rankensain
Planet: Taxodoom
Appearance
- Tone “Action Figure like structure”
- Smoothed out Joints
- Skeletal head
- Sharp Claws
- Retractable Spikes on limbs
- Leathery skin
- Large tail
- Enhanced Strength and Stamina
- Combat Prowess
- Immortality
- Quick Cellular Regeneration
- Able to detach own limbs/body parts and effectively control them when attached.
- Able to grow a detached body part on the detached body
- Able to detach others limbs/body parts of target on contact
- Able to attach body parts detached this way to self
- Body parts detached this way can still be controlled and are controlled by the head/brain they are attached to (all head/brain are in control of themselves). If their original head/brain is detached they can still be controlled by that head/brain unless it’s on attached to another of the same body part in which case they can’t move.
- With the exception of Rankensains who can control their own body parts even while their heads are on a different body.
- Different body parts can be reattached to other bodies detached this way, even in places the body parts don’t go
- Specifically in the Omnitrix after retransformation original rankensain body parts will dematerialize and all new attached body parts from detached bodies will fall off.
- Slightly slow
- Detachment requires strong force of contact
- Targets dispatched bodies can reattach their own parts, and can’t take them off again when put back into place (Can only be detached again by a Rankensain)
- Body parts attached to wrong part of body can be dispatched by anything even by accident
- Targets can disconnect different a body part that wasn’t originally there’s
- After regrowing a body part that was already attached, the original detached body part will lose its structure and melt
- Will die if all body parts are destroyed too fast
- Only their own body parts can detach other limbs
Fighting/Dragon: Medisnake (Combat Snake with Street Fighter Chi abilities)
Species: Ansatryu
Planet: Chakrenin
Appearance:
- Long Reptilian Body built similarly to a Skink
- Dragonoid Scales
- Small Limbs
- Bipedal
- Enhanced Combat Prowess
- Slithering
- Easily able to enter a meditative state for enhanced self-control, psychological/emotional balance, mental clarity, and even healing
- Able to access pressure points that puts allies in a similar state
- Natural chi-like energy and mastery
- Energy skills normally manifest as enhanced athletic skills and energy projection at a basic level
- Energy can be personalized into a different element or even power
- Personalization initially requires a level of training that the Omnitrix transformation doesn’t initially give.
Fighting/Steel: Weapon Blaster (Tank Knight with hand guns that shoots bladed weapons) Species: Arthmo
Planet: Palawar
Appearance
- Tall metal body
- Tank treads for legs
- Knight-Like Helmet
- Short cannons for arms
- Enhanced Durability
- Enhanced Eyesight
- Full rotating body
- Canon arms launch out metal objects commonly melee weapons like swords, spears, axes etc at high speeds
- Weapons are animated and “preprogrammed to move in ways/fly in a direct path and can be “preprogrammed’
- Can be locked onto a focused target and rotate/swing in a specific way whilst following the target
- Other different types of weapon shooting
- Machine Gun type: able to launch out multiple imprecise smaller metal weapons that can’t be animated
- Sniper: Able to launch a singular fast powerful far reaching weapon
- Giant: Able to launch one giant weapon a short distance that stays out longer.
- Drawbacks of each weapon shooting
- Slow Tank like movement
- Can only create simple metal objects
- Weapon projectiles can be moved offcourse
- Weapon projectiles can only stay out a minute before dissipation
- Weapons take time and varying degrees of focus to charge before launch which increases with duration of animation
- Shooting out a large powerful weapon increases load time, and can’t shoot more weapons while the giant weapon is out
Fighting/Dark: Spotshot
Species: Dalmate
Planet: Cerberence
Appearance
- Dalmatian white and black spotted pattern body
- Monkey like proportions and arms
- Dog like head
- Paws for feet
- Long tail with a forked end
- Enhanced Athleticism
- Enchanted Acrobatics
- Wall Crawling
- Able to use forked tail and string-like mucus in between split as a slingshot
- Shoots able to launch “spots” from tail
- Dark skin works good for camouflage
- Combat Prowess
- Spots inflict a strong force on impact
- Leaves a spot mark on the target, and can potentially blind a living target
- Projectile spots are able to fly out of marks
- Able to make spots launch off objects on impact before making mark
- Hitting mark with multiple projectile creates a bigger mark, and a bigger projectile by extension
- Able to absorb Dalmate spots on own body
- Spots dissipate after minutes
- Unable to projects spots marked on body
Fighting/Fairy: Best-O Change-O (Magical Girl/Boy Recruiting Bunny)
Species: Usegin
Planet: Lunakessho
Appearance
- Anthropomorphic Bunny
- Biological Crystal accessories on head
- Natural mask-like fur pattern on head and pupils eyes (males only)
- Crown like horns on females
- Standard outfit of a Tuxedo-like suit, or School-Girl dress based on gender
- Natural magic potential
- Enhanced leaping
- Enhanced Athleticism
- Costume transmutation
- Able to enhance a small hand held object
- Transmutes the object into a specialized weapon and usually able to project a specialized material/force/or element (depends on a combination of both the individual and object)
- Able to enhance another object allowing an Ally to gain a similar weapon and the same powers of an Usegin except the ability to enchant other objects.
- Only able to utilize one weapon at a time
- Applies to allies, they can only utilize their chosen object
- Takes a while to enchant another object for an ally after the first
- After an allies enchanted objects breaks they lose their gained abilities
- Ally abilities also go away when the Omnitrix Transformation ends
2024.05.16 06:45 firestorm_v1 I just can't make any progress! What am I doing wrong here?
I seem to be at an impasse and I just can't seem to figure out this game. I just came from finishing Fallout3 to which I had a great time. I hopped into FNV after recommendations from the Fallout community, but so far it's gone.. not well and I'm really close to just giving up.
1) The food doesn't heal and wears off in seconds. The books of various topics also expires in seconds. Sleep and stimpacks can't be the only way to heal up in the midst of a gunfight, not to mention that Stimpacks are rare! I've been looking in all the usual places, med kit boxes, random containers, dead people, etc...
2) The guns suck! All of them. Even if fixed to 100%! I have a variety of weapons and have even modded a few, but I can't seem to kill anyone or anything with any semblance of regularity even with using VATS. If I don't get that first headshot off on a crit (with or without VATS), I'm going to die. If there's more than one person I'm battling, I'm going to die. I even have the DLCs and supposedly start off with good guns but not that I can tell thanks to the amount of times I've had to reload.
3) The Karma system seems to be completely screwed up. Why am I getting bad karma for stealing from .... the powder gangers? The same a**holes that just tried to blow me up with dynamite. I don't give two sticks about how the powder gangers think of me, I thought I was supposed to destroy them after what they tried in Goodsprings?
4) I can't go ANYWHERE outside of Goodsprings without getting owned by the wildlife! Radscorpions, bloatflies, more scorpions, a couple of centaurs, cazadores, raiders, viper clan thugs, powder gangers, etc. just seem to walk all over me.
5) Everything wants level 50! I can't pick this lock without 50 lockpick. Can't hack that terminal without level 50, can't fart without being level 50, oh but I can die a lot at level 1.
6) The bad-guy-detector in the HUD (the lines that show the cardinal direction and whether or not a particular entity is hostile) is laughably narrow in some cases and extends to ridiculous lengths in others. Using the dry lakebed as an example, I saw three scorpions that didn't even register in the HUD, meanwhile the HUD will show me a neutral party that's two miles away that I don't even have line of sight to. At least with FO3, the red dots were bad guys, the green dots were good guys, and it was fairly consistent 1/4 mi radius from the player's position.
I really need some guidance. I want to get to the story but I can't even exist without something taking a chunk out of me. I've already rebuilt my character twice, do I need to do it again? Are there any guides available that are trusted that can at least get me buffed up enough to even consider going to NV?
Steam says I've played for 12 hours, there's at least two character recreations, and countless reload-from-saves due to random encounters going generally poorly. 12hrs into Fallout3 and I already had a pretty effective arsenal up and was up to at least level 8 or 9.
Preferred playstyle: Sniper, not that I can find a sniper rifle to save my life. Close quarters combat even with the caravan shotgun seems to be more miss than hit even at point blank range and CQC with the grenade launcher (see the Powdergangers jail shootouts) really just seems to be adept at killing me and me only.
My current stats: Level 6
Skills: Barter 15 Energy Weapons 22 Explosives 22 Guns 47 Lockpick 37 Medicine 25 Melee Weapons 21 Repair 45 Science 30 Sneak 40 Speech 35 Survival 15 Unarmed 15
SPECIAL: Strength 5 Perception 6 Endurance 4 Charisma 1 Intelligence 9 Agility 8 Luck 9
Perks: Built To Destroy Educated Run 'n Gun Small Frame Swift Learner
Suggestions, tips, guidance is appreciated! Thank you.
submitted by firestorm_v1 to fnv [link] [comments]
1) The food doesn't heal and wears off in seconds. The books of various topics also expires in seconds. Sleep and stimpacks can't be the only way to heal up in the midst of a gunfight, not to mention that Stimpacks are rare! I've been looking in all the usual places, med kit boxes, random containers, dead people, etc...
2) The guns suck! All of them. Even if fixed to 100%! I have a variety of weapons and have even modded a few, but I can't seem to kill anyone or anything with any semblance of regularity even with using VATS. If I don't get that first headshot off on a crit (with or without VATS), I'm going to die. If there's more than one person I'm battling, I'm going to die. I even have the DLCs and supposedly start off with good guns but not that I can tell thanks to the amount of times I've had to reload.
3) The Karma system seems to be completely screwed up. Why am I getting bad karma for stealing from .... the powder gangers? The same a**holes that just tried to blow me up with dynamite. I don't give two sticks about how the powder gangers think of me, I thought I was supposed to destroy them after what they tried in Goodsprings?
4) I can't go ANYWHERE outside of Goodsprings without getting owned by the wildlife! Radscorpions, bloatflies, more scorpions, a couple of centaurs, cazadores, raiders, viper clan thugs, powder gangers, etc. just seem to walk all over me.
5) Everything wants level 50! I can't pick this lock without 50 lockpick. Can't hack that terminal without level 50, can't fart without being level 50, oh but I can die a lot at level 1.
6) The bad-guy-detector in the HUD (the lines that show the cardinal direction and whether or not a particular entity is hostile) is laughably narrow in some cases and extends to ridiculous lengths in others. Using the dry lakebed as an example, I saw three scorpions that didn't even register in the HUD, meanwhile the HUD will show me a neutral party that's two miles away that I don't even have line of sight to. At least with FO3, the red dots were bad guys, the green dots were good guys, and it was fairly consistent 1/4 mi radius from the player's position.
I really need some guidance. I want to get to the story but I can't even exist without something taking a chunk out of me. I've already rebuilt my character twice, do I need to do it again? Are there any guides available that are trusted that can at least get me buffed up enough to even consider going to NV?
Steam says I've played for 12 hours, there's at least two character recreations, and countless reload-from-saves due to random encounters going generally poorly. 12hrs into Fallout3 and I already had a pretty effective arsenal up and was up to at least level 8 or 9.
Preferred playstyle: Sniper, not that I can find a sniper rifle to save my life. Close quarters combat even with the caravan shotgun seems to be more miss than hit even at point blank range and CQC with the grenade launcher (see the Powdergangers jail shootouts) really just seems to be adept at killing me and me only.
My current stats: Level 6
Skills: Barter 15 Energy Weapons 22 Explosives 22 Guns 47 Lockpick 37 Medicine 25 Melee Weapons 21 Repair 45 Science 30 Sneak 40 Speech 35 Survival 15 Unarmed 15
SPECIAL: Strength 5 Perception 6 Endurance 4 Charisma 1 Intelligence 9 Agility 8 Luck 9
Perks: Built To Destroy Educated Run 'n Gun Small Frame Swift Learner
Suggestions, tips, guidance is appreciated! Thank you.
2024.05.16 06:25 deadislandman1 Animal-Man/Swamp Thing #32 - The Pale Wanderer
Animal-Man/Swamp Thing
Issue 32: The Pale WandererWritten by Deadislandman1
Edited by PatrollinTheMojave
Next Issue > Coming Soon
Arc: Flesh and Bark
Then
An arc of purple lightning flashed across the night sky of the Boneyard, splitting the dark sky in twain as Capucine trudged across the ashy wastes of the realm. A cold gale ripped through the land, chilling the warrior to the bone, yet after centuries of time living in the Rot’s home realm, it felt identical to the ocean breeze that graced her every evening of her monastic childhood. Anxious, she fiddled with her leather armor, tightening every strap and support to make sure they were all in the right positions. She double checked that her sheath was properly tied to her belt, and that the steel sword within was sharp and clean.
He would catch up to her sooner or later, almost certainly before she made it to the portal. It wasn’t hard to pick that fact up. The Boneyard always became a little rougher when he wasn’t happy. She’d endeavored to spare him a difficult conversation, but perhaps that was too optimistic a hope. He was smart for someone his age, even if he’d made such a grave mistake.
Perhaps she was trying to spare herself the labor of having a conversation, rather than trying to keep the adolescent Avatar’s emotions in check. Perhaps she was just running from her problems, something she couldn’t remember ever doing before. Perhaps her ambitions to steer the young Avatar towards better decisions was the wrong choice on her part.
…No. Her advice was invaluable, she knew that much, and William Holland took that advice well. She just wasn’t in much of a position to give advice anymore.
Climbing atop an gray, dusty hill, Capucine gazed at the portal back to the physical world, composed of a miasma of swirling bones and inky fluids. To the unadjusted nose, it smelled absolutely foul, but to Capucine it smelled no different than the rest of the Boneyard. This was her ticket back, to somewhere where she’d do… something.
She didn’t know what that something was. In fact, she felt nauseous at the idea of wandering the world for centuries yet again with no real goal or purpose, though when considering the alternative, Capucine was ready to step right through the portal, even if her reason for leaving was so small in the grand scheme of things.
Breathless, Capucine took one step towards the portal, only for a boom of thunder to shake the realm. Capucine stopped dead in her tracks, sighing. William didn’t need to say anything to get her attention, as she turned around, coming face to face with the young Avatar.
He’d grown quite a bit in the three years she’d been advising him. His mane of red hair had regained some of its color, and across his pale face stood the beginnings of a beard, with bits of pronounced stubble around his chin and above his lips. He remained as gaunt as ever, yet he’d also grown much taller since his beginning as the Rot’s leader. He looked Capucine in the eyes, keeping his expression as blank as possible, “I got your note.”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “So you did.”
William’s bottom lip quivered, “There’s no way I can change your mind…is there?”
“Not that I can see,” Capucine remarked.
William’s head drifted to the side as he attempted to avert his gaze, hiding his eyes from Capucine behind his wild hair. He choked back something, maybe a sob, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was a mistake.”
Capucine took a step forward, feeling the urge to console the boy, yet as she reached out towards him, she found herself frozen by trepidation. She was not a woman of gentle words, and this was a situation that called for them. Rescinding her hand, she stepped back towards the portal, “What’s done is done. I do not hate you, William Arcane, but I cannot stay here.”
Capucine turned her back on William, readying herself to step through the portal. She took one step, then another before William spoke once more, “Tefé.”
Capucine stopped, electing not to turn back and face the young Avatar. Realizing that she was waiting for him to continue, William spoke again, “My sister. I know her, she’s got a good heart, but she’s not like me. She’s not an Avatar. She could always use someone to watch her back.”
For a moment, Capucine did not answer, and the silence seemed to push William to take a few steps back. Turning, he began to walk away, unable to think of much else to say, when Capucine finally answered back, “If she is the sister of William Arcane…then I know her to be someone of good character. Your advice is invaluable, Avatar. Thank you.”
Without another word, Capucine stepped through the portal, disappearing from the Boneyard. William stared at the portal for what felt like hours before he finally shuddered, his shaky breathing accompanied by a single tear that froze up on its way down his cheek, stopping short as a bead of ice just before it fell off of his jaw.
“So you’re here because my brother suggested it?”
“That’s correct.”
Capucine answered Tefé’s inquiry in a dry manner, keeping most of her focus on cleaning the gasoline off her sword with a rag. She sat upon the corpse of the formerly living infected tree, using it as a comfortable log of sorts while Maxine and Tefé remained in their canoe, having managed to dock it by tying it to a nearby set of protruding roots. It was about noon now, and the Florida heat had become unbearable. Maxine wiped her forehead, expecting that she’d probably be dead without the trees as a shield from the sun.
Tefé rubbed her throat, recovering from the vice grip of the tree, “I…how is he? He’s not in trouble is he?”
“Far from it. Your brother is doing better than most. He’s got a keen mind for leadership, and the Rot endures with him as its head,” Capucine sheathed her sword. “He doesn’t need my advice anymore, and I do the world no favors remaining at his side. If I am to continue the preservation of a better world, then it’s best I accompany you instead.”
Tefé grumbled a little, but also couldn’t help but smile, “So the little rascal thinks I need a hand, huh? Thinks I need advice.”
Tefé smirked, then looked up at Capucine, “Got any words of wisdom for me?”
Capucine looked down at the tree carcass, then back at Tefé, “Don’t get grabbed by monstrous trees.”
Tefé swallowed, “Yeah…sound advice.”
Maxine stared at the water, noting that its viscosity had remained unchanged, “Uh…guys? I think there are more gasoline trees somewhere out there. I feel like it would’ve cleared up at least a little bit.”
Capucine jumped into the canoe, breaking the rope keeping it moored with her bare hands, “Then we find the source of the infestation, and remove it.”
Maxine and Tefé didn’t do anything to impede Capucine’s actions, though they were certainly taken aback by this old English era woman taking charge of their mission. Without a word, Capucine grabbed a paddle and began rowing upstream, her toned build making what was a laborious task for Tefé effortless. The trio moved upstream at a rapid pace, with Capucine barely making a single grunt or noise as she paddled onward. As the hours went by, the water to gasoline ratio of the river continued to tip in the gasoline’s favor, to the point that eventually Capucine looked like she was putting real effort into her paddling.
Tefé stared at the woman, unsure of what to make of her, “So…Capucine?”
“Yes?”
“I know your name, I know you’ve been…advising my brother. What else do you do? What’s your story?”
Capucine frowned, “To be brief…I was born over a thousand years ago in Lindisfarne Abbey. What happened after is a personal matter, and one I’d rather not discuss. Similarly, discussing how I came to be immortal, and what I’ve done in the many centuries afterwards would doubtlessly be a fruitless and boring exercise. That energy is better spent rowing.”
Tefé raised an eyebrow, “Okay….then, why are you doing any of this? What drives you to help us?”
Capucine paused for a moment, allowing the canoe to slow in its approach upriver. Then, she snorted, a small smile forming as she began to paddle once more, “I’ve lived long enough to know this is a good place, a good world. I like it intact and alive, and I’d do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
“Uh…good answer,” Tefé turned her attention to the rest of the forest, watching carefully for threats. Capucine was certainly blunt, and maybe a little scary looking, but from what she could tell the woman wasn’t much of a danger. If she wanted to learn more, she could do that after the case of Silver Springs was solved.
Maxine grimaced, staring at the thick gasoline they were rowing through, “What do you think is causing this stuff? The closest thing I can think of is the Rot but…part of me can’t put that picture together.”
“Because this is not the Rot’s doing. William is well aware of these kinds of problems, and manages them well. He would never allow something like this to escalate as far as it has,” Capucine grunted, her sheath rattling against the interior of the canoe. “This is something different.”
“Oil’s a fossil fuel, right?” Maxine asked, “Could there be any connection?”
“Perhaps, but this isn’t just oil, it’s gasoline. It’s processed,” Capucine grunted, the act of rowing becoming tougher. “Something is turning the oil into Gasoline. Maybe it’s the trees, maybe it’s something else.”
“But what force would do that? There’s definitely something magical going on about these things,” Maxine asked.
Capucine frowned, “I am…unsure. I’ve not heard of any force that pertains to these properties. Perhaps one of them has evolved. Such an occurrence is not unheard of; the Red does it all the time.”
“Or maybe…someone’s twisting a force into something it isn’t,” said Tefé. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Eventually, the boat rounded a corner, passing another infected tree. Maxine and Tefé readied themselves, only for Capucine to keep paddling, “Do not bother with them. They’re symptoms, not the cause.”
Maxine raised an eyebrow, “And the cause is….where?”
Capucine pointed down the river, and past a muddy, poisoned shore sat an entire row of the ailing cypresses, encircling a clearing of some kind. As the canoe pushed up against the mid, Capucine trudged out, making her way towards the clearing with her hand on her longsword’s hilt. The trees seemed to regard her, blatantly still conscious, yet they did not attack. Maxine and Tefé followed in trepidation, eyeing the trees in suspicion.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Maxine asked.
“I don’t know,” Capucine remarked. “Perhaps they’re afraid.”
“Of you…or of something else?” Tefé wondered aloud.
As the three entered the clearing, they came across a sight none of them would have expected…a human heart.
It laid in the mud, rooted by cartilage that snaked its way beneath the earth. It beat with a satisfying rhythm, pulsating as if it still rested inside the body of a living man. A thick liquid permeated the mud, shifting outward from the heart.
Gasoline.
Capucine drew her sword, preparing to stab the heart with it. Eyes wide, Maxine jumped in front of her, “Woah woah woah, what are you doing?!”
“I’m removing the problem,” Capucine remarked.
“But…but…we don’t know what this thing even is?”
Capucine sneered at Maxine, “Is it not obvious? Someone or something has perverted an object of the Red, and that infection is spreading to the Green. With its removal, this area can begin healing.”
“How can you know that for sure? I’m the Avatar of the Red, and I can’t feel any trace of the Red in there,” Maxine exclaimed.
“Then the corruption of the object has completely overridden its connection to the Red. All the more reason to destroy it.”
Maxine whirled around, staring at Tefé for help. Tefé opened her mouth to protest, yet she was unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, the Green was suffering, this place was suffering. Getting rid of the heart seemed like the right answer, yet Maxine was right as well. They knew practically nothing about this heart, and if the trees weren’t attacking them, maybe it was an invitation to learn more.
Before she could voice her opinion on one approach or the other though, a new voice made itself known, a raspy, texan accent that came from vocal chords that didn’t realize they were long past their expiration date.
“Well, if you’d let me speak…I’d love to tell you why I deserve to live!”
The trio assumed defensive stances as the ground rumbled around the heart, at which point a dozen or so ribs began to poke out of the mud around the heart, followed by rotten yet well preserved flesh. The heart and ribs rose with the flesh, revealing a man with an open chest as he picked himself up from out of the mud. He was wearing an old coat and pants, and wore only one sock on his feet. Inconsistent, matted hair hung from his head, covered up slightly by a ruined cowboy hat. An ugly stubble dotted his cheeks, paired with yellow teeth and milky white eyes. He smiled, raising what looked to be an old revolver to his chin to scratch it with the barrel. With the other hand, he reached out to shake any of the trio’s hands, “Howdy folks. Pale Wanderer, representing the Parliament of Gears…how are you doing this fine day?”
The trio looked at each other in confusion, then Capucine spoke, “What are you? Are you the cause of the Malady plaguing this land.”
“Well…I wouldn’t call it a malady per-se! More of a necessary sacrifice.” The Pale Wanderer tipped his hat up. “As for what I am? Well honey…I’m a crusader. A force meant to alleviate suffering, and right now? That suffering is…well, it’s not exactly something any of the flora or fauna here really give a shit about.”
“And what’s that?” Tefé asked.
“Well…it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare to explain, but it starts with oil!” The Pale Wanderer gestured towards the ground. “We’re a car based society, here in the United States I mean! Trouble is, gas prices are fuckin’ outrageous these days, right?”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “I do not see how that should concern us.”
“I’m not finished!” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “The average American has to pay an arm and a leg for gas nowadays, and they need gas if they want to get anywhere. Have a job, wanna see family, need to make a trip to the grocery store? Need to pay for gas if you wanna to any of that! Trouble is, gas comes from oil, and oil? It’s getting rarer by the minute…that’s why I made this place!”
The Pale Wanderer raised his arms, gesturing to the gasoline laced mud and the producing trees, “Think about it! More Gasoline means the market price of Gasoline’s gonna go down, which means gas is cheaper for everyone! At least, I think that’s how it works! Plus, my Gas is A+ quality, even comes in Diesel!”
As The Pale Wanderer continued on about his tirade on Gas prices, Maxine and Tefé shared a confused glance at each other. They’d never encountered something like this before, something this unusual, this keyed in and calculated in purpose yet scattershot in reasoning. The only thing two of them seemed to fixate on though was something the Pale Wanderer said when he introduced himself.
The Parliament of Gears.
Tefé stepped forward, “You said you were part of the Parliament of Gears? What is that? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Oh, That’s cause we’re new on the block, sweetie, but glad to be here,” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “Not qualified to sell them overall though, you’ll have to talk to marketing for that.”
“Enough!” Capucine declared, holding the point of the sword at the Pale Wanderer. “Your reasons for poisoning this place are simplistic and needless. Leave, or I will make you leave!”
The Pale Wanderer raised an eyebrow, “See, now I don’t like comments like that! We’re all just having a lovely discussion and now all you wanna do is escalate! Things don’t have to be this way! Maybe we can work something out?”
Tefé glanced between Capucine and the Pale Wanderer, making an educated guess that Capucine wasn’t the type to back down in these sorts of situations. Furthermore, she had a point. This place was suffering, and no matter the Pale Wanderer’s intentions, that was something that wouldn’t stand, “We don’t want to fight you, but what you’re doing is…horrifying. You’re killing everything around here for…Gasoline! We can’t stand by and let that happen.”
The Pale Wanderer glanced at Tefé, a glum look on his face. Maxine seemed to be holder her breath somewhat, but there was no question that she was on Tefé and Capucine’s side. Sighing, The Pale Wanderer scratched his thigh with his gun, “So that’s how it is?”
Capucine’s grip on her sword tightened, “That’s how it is.”
The Pale Wanderer pursed his lips, “...Well, if we’ve got no more words to share…I guess we better hop to it.”
The wanderer raised his revolver, only for Capucine to surge forward at lightning speed, piercing him in the heart with her sword. For a moment, he was still, motionless, and Capucine stared him dead in the eyes. Then, he shifted, and after meeting her gaze, he began to laugh, his guffawing causing gasoline to spurt from his heart and onto Capucine’s sword and armor, “Hah! Good try!”
Capucine attempted to back away from the Wanderer, only for him to grab her wrist, keeping her and the sword wedged firmly in his body. Raising his weapon, he prepared to put a bullet in Capucine’s eyes, only for her to deliver a swift fist to his arm, knocking the gun out of his hands. Smiling, he took advantage of his newly freed hand, grabbing her by the throat and squeezing tight. As Capucine struggled for air, the Wanderer could only hoot and holler, “Whooo-weeee! We’re getting down to it now!”
Maxine and Tefé rushed to help the ancient warrior, only for a mob of living trees to encroach upon them, blocking their way while attempting to grab or smash them with their heavy branched arms. Maxine dove to the left, dodging the crushing slam of one tree, while Tefé slipped through the roots of another, narrowly avoiding being picked up again. Separated, the two tried to get a read on each other while avoiding harm, yet it was difficult for either of them to really do anything to help Capucine.
They were both far from the Red and the Green’s safety. No animal would go anywhere near the Pale Wanderer, meaning Maxine’s powers were utterly neutered. Similarly, there was no living plant life near the battlefield, meaning Tefé couldn’t use her powers either. If they wanted to get out of this, they would need to think outside the box.
And that’s when Tefé spotted the Wanderer’s revolver sitting in the mud, and a wild idea crossed her mind as she scanned it and the gasoline laden ground around it. She glanced at Maxine, then to the gun, and Maxine seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. It was a gambit, an insane gambit, but without much power to draw on, it might be their only shot.
Together, the two began to race for the gun, trying desperately to keep out of the reach of the trees. Tefé tried to get there quickly, yet she found herself pursued by a half dozen trees, pressured by their presence. Maxine was closer, and managed to pick up the gun as Tefé was halfway over, only for a tree to come barreling towards her. She whirled around to run, only to snag her foot on a dead root, causing her to trip and fall. Afraid of losing their one chance at Victory, Maxine shared a split second look with Tefé before throwing the gun towards the Pale Wanderer, just as the tree came down on her. It stretched out its arms, its branches ensnaring her and trapping her in place.
Her mind in overdrive, Tefé pivoted and raced for the Pale Wanderer, leaping over the swinging branches of another tree in order to catch the gun. Capucine gasped for air, her eyes glazing over as the Wanderer choked the life out of her, laughing like a madman. With the trees about to grab her, Tefé leapt for the Wanderer’s back, looping one arm around his neck to hold on while planting the gun’s barrel against the gasoline soaked sword, “Stop!”
The trees froze in place, including the one holding Maxine captive. The Pale Wanderer raised his eyebrow, loosening his grip on Capucine and allowing her to breath, “What’s this now? Ready to call it quits?”
Tefé gritted her teeth, “I’m ready to make a deal, and if you refuse, I’ll blow us all sky high! Even you won’t survive that, will you?”
“The hell’re you…” The Pale Wanderer looked down at the gun planted against the sword, and finally realized what was at stake. There was a reason smoking a cigarette at a gas station was a stupid idea, and Tefé was willing to demonstrate. A bullet crashing against steel would cause sparks, and sparks can light many fires, especially ones where the ground was soaked in gasoline. She’s set miles of forest on fire, to nuke the entire place from the ground up….and from the tone of her words, the Wanderer knew Tefé meant it, “Ohhhhh…Clever girl….Ha! So, you’ve got me. What do you want from me?”
Tefé let out a grunt of exhaustion, “I want you…to fuck off and never come back here. Got it?”
The Wanderer chuckled, then winked at Capucine, letting go of her and allowing her to pull out the sword, “Well then, a deal’s a deal.”
Snapping his fingers, The Wanderer watched as every tree around him began to dissolve into an inky ooze, including the one holding onto Maxine, who became drencheds in the stuff. Similarly, the Wanderer himself began to dissolve, though much more slowly. As he sank into the earth, he looked up at Tefé and Capucine, “This place’ll return to what it once was, but don’t count me out just yet. We’ll be seeing each other…oh, and keep the gun. Think of it as a gift from little ol’ me.”
Eventually, the Pale Wanderer was gone, not even his hat remaining, leaving Maxine, Tefé, and Capucine to stare at the spot he once occupied. The crisis at hand was solved, at least as far as they knew, but the problems were only just beginning.
A new force of nature was here, and it did not seem to be a peaceful one.
2024.05.16 05:50 CapitalCrazy5395 Used Guns
Where can I sell my used guns. I have 1 sniper(bolt), an ar, a smg (both electric), and 2 pistols (both co2). I’m drawing blanks on names and brands but I bought them from a nice store and paid good money for them. I don’t play much anymore so I’m trying to get some money back for what I payed out. Probably somewhere in that $1000 dollar area.
submitted by CapitalCrazy5395 to airsoft [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 05:02 BSBubbaRobinsonLuv alles klar, ihr verdammten Fotzen -VS- also, ihr verdammten Fotzen, sattelt auf ?🤔 Radio traffic from the point of origin to that point of reception"AURAL TRANSFER"to my legs, mouth,eyes,eye sockets,ear channels,chest, crotch,lungs,sternum chest plate,face,&body.. Stop tormenting,
 | victimizing me and other folks with your actions, access, and use of airforce synthetic aperture radars these past few weeks. Please just leave me alone. I'm still alive since May 1998. It seems to me an airforce nutty nut wants me to post things when he is torturing & victimizing my ass to feed his ego. It's always the tormentor that needs to have his ego vested. The victimiser always needs to be the hero. Last week I had to drive back down to california to take care of business "pay bills". The drive down is nine and a half to twelve hours. My legs felt like they were gonna burst open from induced radar radio gains from that long drive. Tuesday of this week, I'll drove back for my moms funeral. She passed away the day before her birthday May 2nd. So on the drive up My right leg was full of boils and puss around the crotch area. I suffer from crotch rot constantly, since May of 1998. Tonight has been nice. I'm around adults that dislike individuals that do nothing but scream, yell, and throw tantrums. The little idiocies must realize that aren't to have guns and access to radars. It's always tantrum airforce fill in the blank. Tantrum airforce health care providers. Tantrum airforce national laboratories. Tantrum airforce excon's. Tantrum airforce phone company. Tantrum airforce TRACON. Tantrum airforce fill in that blank. With or without guns. So once again. alles klar, ihr verdammten Fotzen -or- also, ihr verdammten Fotzen, sattelt auf🤔 I'm sorry but I just had to get some issues/grievances aired. I've really have been taking a Physical Beating from these nuts actions. Legs and chest. Induced radar radio gains. submitted by BSBubbaRobinsonLuv to u/BSBubbaRobinsonLuv [link] [comments] |
2024.05.16 01:57 Asleep-Reaction-1011 Deciding between UK and Australia for software tech.
I know several of these questions exist but I didn't see much posts tailored to my scenario. I am a senior data engineer with skills in Data Engg, ML, MLOPS with an overall of 12 years of experience but my core work now revolves around Data Engineering and ML/software engg from past 5 years. I am contemplating to move to either Australia or UK (both takes an year from now) accounting for factors as below: career opportunities to grow (I have heard Australia saturates in salary for senior positions and LESS jobs particularly in Data Engg and ML. 0⁰Is it gonna improve and would they catch up with US/Europe?) Raising a kid (3 years now) and better life style in terms of health, education, food and air quality, ETC.. you get it! I am single earner. My spouse might do casual jobs but nothing substantial. Working from a remote place in UK would be awesome, I believe.
Career Opportunities and family, lifestyle are both equally important, but if you ask me with a gun to my head at point blank, I choose family and lifestyle. What do you think? Anyone in this boat of my journey? I hope someone who has experience with both UK and Australia especially in tech sector can help me here.
submitted by Asleep-Reaction-1011 to cscareerquestionsEU [link] [comments]
Career Opportunities and family, lifestyle are both equally important, but if you ask me with a gun to my head at point blank, I choose family and lifestyle. What do you think? Anyone in this boat of my journey? I hope someone who has experience with both UK and Australia especially in tech sector can help me here.
2024.05.16 01:04 Ok-Significance-1752 Dimensional weirdness (Short second human monster war story and lore)
uploading file from UN achieves
Paris. February 14th. 1991.
"Who the fuck is the girl agh shi-" Blood splattered the Tunnels of the catacombs as another Frech soldier goes down. A sharp knife lays jammed in his head. The giggling Girl with red eyes struggles briefly but pulls the knife wedged in his skull. "Hmm another easy kill" she says. "Take that Bitch out" Yells Seargent Petain. The French soldiers fire away towards her. Muzzle flashes adding light to the dark environment of the Catacombs of Paris. The girl with red eyes with inhuman speed jumps up on the roofs and dives down towards the soldiers Knife in hand. "Shit. Fucking hell get me out of here" A soldier screams as he is repeated stabbed. Petain fire at point blank rage shredding her with 30 bullets. "Humans and your fucking guns" she growled as she darts back into the tunnels wounded.
"Code green, I repeat code green. Threat has been pushed back" Petain repeated over the radio. "Head count!" He barks. only 7 of his 12 members of his squad fall in. "This is Juliet 1 my squad has suffered 2 Kia and 1 Mia." He says to high command on the radio. "Link up with 9th UN Irish platoon and attempt to follow threat and eliminate the anomaly" High command repeats on the radio. "What if we encounter the Skeleton" Petain asks. "Eliminate him Juliet" High command repeats. "Understood high command" Petain says. "Move up" He barks as his squad moves across the catacombs.
"Multiple dead friendlies up ahead sir." Says corporal Jaques. Petain looks into the tunnels to his left and sees around 20 dead UN and French soldiers. "Fuck. Check their wounds we need to know if these were done by the super monsters or anomalies" Petain says hiding his fear. His soldiers fan out checking the bodies. "They're still warm this was done recently. They seemed to have been fried." Said one of his squad mates. "Shit. Command we have encountered the aftermath of a potential fire fight with the Skeleton permission to withdraw and take the western tunnels" Petain asked high command. "Permission granted" High command responded. Petain and his squad would begin their move towards the western tunnels.
French and UN high command in the catacombs.
"I'll admit you PF (This worlds version of the CIA. PF stands for Pacification force) spooks train your spies fucking well. Dracula (Dalvs Code name) has managed to get rather close to Ceroba and Chujin" General Phillip said. The PF women wearing aviator glasses and a bullet proof vest along with Cargo pants look at French General unamused. " We are good at our job that's all I'll say" She states.
"I would Assume you're here to tell me if the reports are true." Says Phillip raising an eyebrow. "Corrected. Based on What Dracula has been able to gather for us Chujin has been using human children's souls to create those damn portals which allow the monsters to get around. Along with that he has reached out into other AUs to I would assume to get help." She says coldly. "Fucker is getting desperate." Phillip says grinning. "Thats what 10 years of fighting our species does to you" She jokes. "Ah yes the indomitable human spirit" Phillip jokes back. "Still doesn't help that we have to deal with multiple of those fucking skeletons and that creeping fucking girl." Phillp says his tone changing to a serious. "You mean Chara" she says raising an eyebrow under her glasses. "Yes, that bitch" Phillip says smoking.
"Based on what we've gathered that fucker Chujin is recruiting mainly [Y/N] Characters" she says reading a file. "[Y/N] characters?" says a confused Phillip. "Ah, I didn't brief you on those fuckers didn't I." she says. "Some AUs revolve around one character specifically. Like they are the main character of the story. For some reason most of these fuckers have some bullshit tragic story that made them edgy and shit. Of course, since they are the main characters, they are fucking OP though are easily manipulated like your average main anime character." she jokes. "So, we have Edgy shit lords running around kill our guys with god knows what kind of bullshit powers." Phillip says amused and disturbed. "Bingo" she says smirking. "These fuckers we call anomalies since they are more powerful than your average boss monster. We did have an anomaly on our side if you can consider him one and that was clovers brother rose, but he fucking died when Paris was breached, and we are now stuck in the catacombs fighting for survival." She explains.
"Apparently each AU has an assigned name by I'm assuming some high power." She continues. "This sounds like some weird SCP crap" Phillip says sighing. "Kinda is" The agent says chuckling. "Run me down the names of the AUs Chujins has so far been able to access" Phillip says. The agent pulls out a file and begins to read. "Red eyes, like 3 that involve sans being the main character, we got one with Gaster-" Phillip cuts him off. "That shit head?" Phillip says annoyed. "The very one. I swear chujin likes to pick out some of the most depressing AUs cause this one involves Gaster being a fucking abusive cunt and-" Phillip cuts her off again. "Spare me the details. How do you know this stuff." He says tired "The EMC (Elimination of Monster's Coalition) has discovered a way to identify the names and the stories that play out in each AU though they won't say how." She replies. "Better than fucking nothing" Phillip says.
"Do you think humanity in our world is screwed with Chujin messing around with AUs in ways we can understand yet" He asks. "possibly" She replies in a brutally honest fashion. "Well, we aren't going down quietly" Phillip grimly jokes. "Correct my friend" she says. "I wish we had more time left on this earth" Phillip says. "Hey, we both know the shit we signed up for" she says reassuringly. "Paris and its Catacomb's may be fucked but earth aint yet so let's by the world some more fucking time" Phillip says. "Right on you" She responds as they both walk out of high command.
submitted by Ok-Significance-1752 to Undertale [link] [comments]
Paris. February 14th. 1991.
"Who the fuck is the girl agh shi-" Blood splattered the Tunnels of the catacombs as another Frech soldier goes down. A sharp knife lays jammed in his head. The giggling Girl with red eyes struggles briefly but pulls the knife wedged in his skull. "Hmm another easy kill" she says. "Take that Bitch out" Yells Seargent Petain. The French soldiers fire away towards her. Muzzle flashes adding light to the dark environment of the Catacombs of Paris. The girl with red eyes with inhuman speed jumps up on the roofs and dives down towards the soldiers Knife in hand. "Shit. Fucking hell get me out of here" A soldier screams as he is repeated stabbed. Petain fire at point blank rage shredding her with 30 bullets. "Humans and your fucking guns" she growled as she darts back into the tunnels wounded.
"Code green, I repeat code green. Threat has been pushed back" Petain repeated over the radio. "Head count!" He barks. only 7 of his 12 members of his squad fall in. "This is Juliet 1 my squad has suffered 2 Kia and 1 Mia." He says to high command on the radio. "Link up with 9th UN Irish platoon and attempt to follow threat and eliminate the anomaly" High command repeats on the radio. "What if we encounter the Skeleton" Petain asks. "Eliminate him Juliet" High command repeats. "Understood high command" Petain says. "Move up" He barks as his squad moves across the catacombs.
"Multiple dead friendlies up ahead sir." Says corporal Jaques. Petain looks into the tunnels to his left and sees around 20 dead UN and French soldiers. "Fuck. Check their wounds we need to know if these were done by the super monsters or anomalies" Petain says hiding his fear. His soldiers fan out checking the bodies. "They're still warm this was done recently. They seemed to have been fried." Said one of his squad mates. "Shit. Command we have encountered the aftermath of a potential fire fight with the Skeleton permission to withdraw and take the western tunnels" Petain asked high command. "Permission granted" High command responded. Petain and his squad would begin their move towards the western tunnels.
French and UN high command in the catacombs.
"I'll admit you PF (This worlds version of the CIA. PF stands for Pacification force) spooks train your spies fucking well. Dracula (Dalvs Code name) has managed to get rather close to Ceroba and Chujin" General Phillip said. The PF women wearing aviator glasses and a bullet proof vest along with Cargo pants look at French General unamused. " We are good at our job that's all I'll say" She states.
"I would Assume you're here to tell me if the reports are true." Says Phillip raising an eyebrow. "Corrected. Based on What Dracula has been able to gather for us Chujin has been using human children's souls to create those damn portals which allow the monsters to get around. Along with that he has reached out into other AUs to I would assume to get help." She says coldly. "Fucker is getting desperate." Phillip says grinning. "Thats what 10 years of fighting our species does to you" She jokes. "Ah yes the indomitable human spirit" Phillip jokes back. "Still doesn't help that we have to deal with multiple of those fucking skeletons and that creeping fucking girl." Phillp says his tone changing to a serious. "You mean Chara" she says raising an eyebrow under her glasses. "Yes, that bitch" Phillip says smoking.
"Based on what we've gathered that fucker Chujin is recruiting mainly [Y/N] Characters" she says reading a file. "[Y/N] characters?" says a confused Phillip. "Ah, I didn't brief you on those fuckers didn't I." she says. "Some AUs revolve around one character specifically. Like they are the main character of the story. For some reason most of these fuckers have some bullshit tragic story that made them edgy and shit. Of course, since they are the main characters, they are fucking OP though are easily manipulated like your average main anime character." she jokes. "So, we have Edgy shit lords running around kill our guys with god knows what kind of bullshit powers." Phillip says amused and disturbed. "Bingo" she says smirking. "These fuckers we call anomalies since they are more powerful than your average boss monster. We did have an anomaly on our side if you can consider him one and that was clovers brother rose, but he fucking died when Paris was breached, and we are now stuck in the catacombs fighting for survival." She explains.
"Apparently each AU has an assigned name by I'm assuming some high power." She continues. "This sounds like some weird SCP crap" Phillip says sighing. "Kinda is" The agent says chuckling. "Run me down the names of the AUs Chujins has so far been able to access" Phillip says. The agent pulls out a file and begins to read. "Red eyes, like 3 that involve sans being the main character, we got one with Gaster-" Phillip cuts him off. "That shit head?" Phillip says annoyed. "The very one. I swear chujin likes to pick out some of the most depressing AUs cause this one involves Gaster being a fucking abusive cunt and-" Phillip cuts her off again. "Spare me the details. How do you know this stuff." He says tired "The EMC (Elimination of Monster's Coalition) has discovered a way to identify the names and the stories that play out in each AU though they won't say how." She replies. "Better than fucking nothing" Phillip says.
"Do you think humanity in our world is screwed with Chujin messing around with AUs in ways we can understand yet" He asks. "possibly" She replies in a brutally honest fashion. "Well, we aren't going down quietly" Phillip grimly jokes. "Correct my friend" she says. "I wish we had more time left on this earth" Phillip says. "Hey, we both know the shit we signed up for" she says reassuringly. "Paris and its Catacomb's may be fucked but earth aint yet so let's by the world some more fucking time" Phillip says. "Right on you" She responds as they both walk out of high command.
2024.05.15 19:45 Mean-Information-600 Is a muzzleloader using a 1/4" steel ball and a .22 nail gun blank a smoothbore pistol?
I have an idea for a muzzleloading pistol that uses a .22 nail gun blank as a propellant for a 1/4" steel ball in a slightly overbore steel tube, or something of that sort. The only thing I've wondered about is, will a steel ball, even if put in a muzzleloading patch, turn the steel tube into a DIY finger remover? And is this legally considered a smoothbore pistol? A .22LR round would be completely ineffectual from this gun but I'm wondering if legally speaking this thing would be a liability.
submitted by Mean-Information-600 to GunnitRust [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 19:26 KellyfromLeedsUK Gunned down as he greets the crowd: Terrifying moment Slovakia's PM is shot when '71-year-old assassin' fires five times at point-blank range, leaving Robert Fico fighting for life
 | submitted by KellyfromLeedsUK to BreakingNews24hr [link] [comments] |
2024.05.15 19:09 IntnsRed Gunned down as he greets the crowd: Terrifying moment Slovakia's PM is shot when '71-year-old assassin' fires five times at point-blank range
submitted by IntnsRed to worldnews2 [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 19:09 IntnsRed Gunned down as he greets the crowd: Terrifying moment Slovakia's PM is shot when '71-year-old assassin' fires five times at point-blank range
 | submitted by IntnsRed to worldpolitics2 [link] [comments] |
2024.05.15 18:39 Next-Mobile-9632 Gunned down as he greets the crowd: Terrifying moment Slovakia's PM is shot when '71-year-old assassin' fires five times at point-blank range
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2024.05.15 18:06 DrDoritosMD [Stargate and GATE Inspired] Manifest Fantasy Chapter 16: Power Play (Part 1)
Author’s Note:
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First
Three, two, one... execute.
Ron peeked around the corner, his M4E1 Carl Gustaf already loaded with standard HEAT rounds. The rest of Alpha Team stacked up behind him or behind Ryan, who was on the other side of the doorway. Through the opening, they could see a nightmarish tangle of webs and egg sacs, with the skittering shapes of Spiranids lurking in the shadows in the far corners of the room.
The Queen was positioned in the center of the room, completely exposed by a cluster of eggs. Henry watched as Ron leveled his Gustaf, taking aim at the Queen while they stayed along the wall to ensure Ron’s backblast was clear. It should have been an easy kill, but a flicker of movement caught Henry’s eye.
A blob of white flew across his vision, smacking into Ron just as he fired his weapon. The thick strands of webbing bypassed Kelmithus’ shielding and wrapped around him, sending him flying back a couple of meters. He landed on his back, his body and launcher completely stuck to the floor by the condensed silk.
Around the same time, the Gustaf’s projectile struck the Queen’s abdomen section. The resulting blast tore through its exoskeleton but was far from a fatal blow. The Queen shrieked, a sound far deeper than Henry expected.
“Fuck!” Ron shouted, struggling to break free from the webbing.
Henry exhaled. They were a man down, but helping him had to wait; the not-dead Queen and its minions took precedence. It would be great if he had another launcher in his own Holding Bag, but that was something he’d have to bring up to Chief Cole later. Henry tossed his grenades into the room, the pops mingling with the screeches of injured Spiranids. Ryan struck simultaneously, throwing his own collection into the mix. Like firecrackers, the explosives were violent but short-lived.
As the chaos subsided, Henry pushed in. Raising his shotgun, he tore through a Spiranid that pounced at him, its carcass smoldering from the white phosphorous. Beside him, Isaac, Ryan, and Dr. Anderson’s shots rang out, tearing through their own sectors of fire.
Almost immediately upon their entry, the Queen surged forward with terrifying speed. It reared its head back like it was about to vomit, mandibles covered in a sick, yellowish color. Henry recognized immediately what it was trying to do. “Acid, move!”
Henry dove away from his previous position, taking a shot at another Spiranid that had taken the opportunity to jump at him while its master was preparing to attack. He narrowly escaped the lethal spray as it jetted toward him. The acid splattered on the ground where they had stood not even a second before, sizzling fiercely as it corroded the thick webbing sprawled across the floor. He noticed as he ran that, rather curiously, the acid was simply puddling on the floor. There was no damage to the floor itself, but if it could tear apart high-quality monster silk just like that, he didn’t want to find out what it could do to an envirosuit.
Henry glanced back after blasting apart his third Spiranid. His teammates were fine – Ryan helping him keep the Queen’s attention, Sera already on her way to Ron, and the others taking care of the smaller Spiranids. He tried to get a quick headcount of how many Spiranids they’d already eliminated. Between their guns, Kelmithus’ magic, and the grenades, he estimated they had killed at least a dozen so far. Solid progress, but the fact that they weren’t able to take out the Queen with their first strike was an issue.
Henry rolled to his left as the Queen pounced on his previous position. It was fucking fast, like a Goliath birdeater but scaled up – and with nasty abilities that really shouldn’t belong on a creature like this. He recovered quickly and took aim, firing point-blank into its thorax. The white phosphorous pellets hissed as they burned into its exoskeleton, forcing it back.
Beside him, Ryan’s shotgun boomed. He struck the Queen’s legs, which seemed to be more fragile than the thick exoskeleton surrounding the head and thorax. The pellets bit into the chitin, likely striking a nerve as evidenced by the leg’s subsequent buckling and collapse. It was a lucky shot – one that he doubted they could repeat four or five more times.
“Sera, use my knife! Here, right here!” Ron called out.
Sera’s sword must’ve been too large to effectively cut through the webbing. They had to hurry up. He and Ryan had been dodging the Queen’s attacks, but mostly by a hair’s breadth. All it took was one lucky hit from the Queen to put them out of commission, possibly for good. “Sera, status on Ron?”
“One minute!” she responded.
Damn. That was one minute later than he’d hoped. Reacting instinctively, Henry noted the Queen raising one of its legs – a sure sign of it preparing for another attack. The Queen struck again, this time cleaving the air with the leg, aiming to corral him into a predictable escape route. As its leg swept through the air, Henry caught sight of the Queen rearing its head back in a grotesque mimicry of a snake about to strike – another acid attack.
Anticipating the monster’s strategy, Henry feinted to the right, a move he hoped would mislead it about his true intentions. As the Queen’s head followed his feint, Henry twisted sharply, scraping against the rough ground. With a powerful push from his legs, he launched backward just as the Queen unleashed its attack.
Acid spewed forth in a wide arc, splattering where he had just been. The corrosive globs almost instantly melted the webbing on the floor, collecting into pools. And there was the second issue. The longer this fight dragged on, the less room they’d have to maneuver.
Henry unloaded into the creature’s compound eyes before tossing a flashbang near its legs. The creature staggered backward, blinded in both its eyes and its sensory hairs. Henry used the precious few seconds he bought to reload his weapon and check up on his team. “Yen, sitrep?”
“Stragglers neutralized; we’re moving to you now.”
Automatic gunfire erupted as Isaac and Dr. Anderson joined the fight against the Queen, dumping their mags on the creature’s head. The 6.8mm seemed to penetrate well, but he could say the same if they fought an elephant; the Spiranid Queen was simply too large for the relatively small caliber rounds to have any effect besides pissing it off.
The Queen lunged again, its legs surrounding him from all sides. There was only one way out, and it was through the belly of the beast. Henry rushed forward, ducking under the Queen’s mandibles as he slid underneath its abdomen. He fired his shotgun as quickly as he could, unloading pellets into the beast’s underbelly. The white phosphorous scorched the softer flesh, drawing a shriek of pain from the massive creature.
As the Queen writhed under the relentless assault, Ryan and the others seized the moment to reload their weapons and reposition. They poured everything they had into the creature’s cephalothorax, bluish ichor oozing from the hundreds of new wounds that they opened up. Yet, it was like chipping away at a mountain – it simply wasn’t enough. The creature thrashed around violently in response; Henry knew it was only a matter of time before it landed a hit on someone.
And land a hit it did. With a terrifying swiftness, one of its massive legs slammed into Henry’s chest, launching him backward. The shield Kelmithus cast on him flickered as it absorbed the brunt of the impact. He crashed into an egg sac by the entrance – its membrane ruptured on impact, drenching him in a sticky, corrosive slime. The sac provided little cushion, and he hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him.
Pain flared across Henry’s chest where the Queen’s leg had struck him. Gasping for breath and battling the encroaching blackness in his vision, he instinctively checked his envirosuit. He started with the areas he could see, glancing down at his chest. It was visibly deformed, dented but not quite a gash.
Still intact, thank goodness. No breach, but another hit like that would be disastrous. He breathed a sigh of relief, his chest hurting like hell as he did so. He checked his sides and back. Parts of his suit were covered in slime from the egg sac. It didn’t seem as corrosive as the Queen’s acid, but it was still a hazard. Quickly, he swiped at it, removing as much as possible with his gloved hands to prevent further damage.
He forced himself up, grabbing his shotgun from the floor. The Queen was already barreling toward him, the damn monster not letting up. He didn’t have time to make a run for it; he needed to jump to one side or the other, and the timing needed to be perfect. Just as the Queen’s shadow engulfed him, the air turned icy cold, frost creeping up on his visor.
Ice formed from thin air, spearing up from the ground and piercing through the Queen’s legs. The spikes rooted the beast in place. Not one to waste an opportunity, Henry dashed away from the entrance, firing at the immobilized giant spider as he linked up with the others.
“Sera?” Henry asked again.
Sera’s voice came in strained. “Almost…” Then, with a triumphant shout, she announced the word Henry had been desperate to hear. “Done!”
“Owens!” Henry said, risking a glance back.
Ron had already grabbed his Gustaf and was in the process of loading another HEAT round. “On it!”
Henry grinned. It was a relief, to be sure. With Ron free and back in the fight, the odds had just tipped heavily in their favor. The Queen was tough, but it wasn’t invincible; they just needed an opening.
Given the damage the Queen sustained to its body, Henry couldn’t imagine it being in peak fighting condition. Even in its weakened state, though, it still had the capability to dodge Ron’s attack, and it seemed to be saving its web ability for that very inevitability.
“Take out the legs!” Henry ordered.
They combined their fire on the left legs, since Ryan managed to break one of them earlier. He heard a crack that might’ve been the chitin giving way or the leg snapping, but it was hard to tell. He was just about to chalk it up to the prevailing gunfire around them, but then he saw it: a brief stumble. The Queen recovered quickly, but it was clear to Henry that it wouldn’t be able to manage any more damage to its legs.
Then, he noticed a blur in his peripheral vision to his right, moving so fast his eyes could barely keep up. Shit, he was certain he kept track of the Queen’s movements. With the existing damage to his envirosuit, he’d be completely fucked. He braced himself for another impact, but it never came.
As he focused harder on the blur, he caught a glimpse of a flash of light that could only be one thing – Sera’s sword, And, just like a flash of lightning, she had already cleared the vicinity of the Queen. The Queen’s foreleg seemed to simply vanish, severed so cleanly that it took a moment for the beast to realize what had happened. When it did, it let out a screech of pain, its balance faltering as it tried to adapt to the sudden change.
While Henry focused on taking out another leg from the left side, Sera had already shifted to her next target. Their assault was brutal: white phosphorus pellets and hard-hitting 6.8mm on one side, ice magic and skilled swordsmanship on the other. And to think, they managed to inflict all this damage by the time Ron completed his reload.
“Clear the way!” Ron called out, his Gustaf aimed right at the Queen’s head.
Henry jumped back, watching as Kelmithus conjured another set of ice spikes to root the beast again, in case the five obliterated legs weren’t enough to keep it down. The Queen thrashed against the icy bonds, its remaining legs slashing through the air in a frenzied bid for freedom. It spat acid – a tactic that would’ve worked effectively on most other materials, but instead simply got diluted with the melting ice. Even as the acid reacted with the ice, the spikes held firm, anchoring the beast in place like steel cables.
Henry’s heart pounded in his ears. Come on, Owens, he urged silently. Take the shot.
As if on cue, Ron pulled the trigger. The Gustaf bucked in his hands as the HEAT round streaked towards its target. Henry barely had time to brace himself before the explosion hit, the shockwave slamming into him and nearly toppling him over. He staggered back, gazing into the settling dust.
When the smoke cleared, the Queen’s head was obliterated – replaced by a gory mess of shattered chitin and pulverized flesh. Blood sprayed from the gaping hole, covering the ground in a pale blue hue. The creature’s body convulsed, its remaining legs scrabbling weakly at their surroundings.
A surge of triumph washed over Henry, but it was fleeting. From the corner of his eye, he locked on to a glimpse of movement. One of the Queen’s legs continued to spasmodically jerk around and spray the ground with blue ichor. He raised his shotgun in a nonchalant motion and blasted the errant limb, watching as it shuddered and went still.
Sera stepped up, her sword barely catching the light as she jammed it into what was left of the Queen’s thorax. A sharp twist, and it was over. She then yanked the blade from the carcass, her grip shifting subtly along the hilt. As she flicked the sword, frost swiftly coated the ichor clinging to the metal. The frozen debris was flung off, hitting the ground and shattering like glass.
He glanced down at his Holding Bag. Damn, the fight took out most of his shells. Swapping out his shotgun for his M7, he turned to his team and took stock of their condition. It seemed everyone had mostly gone unscathed, only debris and dirt scarring their envirosuits. Well, except for himself and Ron. “Think we’re gonna have to start calling you pinata now,” Henry said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
Ron scoffed. “Yeah? Says the runner-up,” he said, tapping the dent on Henry’s envirosuit. “Better ‘pinata’ than ‘roadkill’, though. But seriously, what’s next? Don’t even know where to start.”
The room was empty, save for the debris strewn about and the singular obelisk standing in the center of the room. He didn’t notice it earlier, but as he got closer, he realized that the obelisk emitted a faint light that barely escaped the canopy of webs. He looked it up and down before turning to the others. “Only one place to start. Let’s clear out the webs, see what’s hiding below.”
“Doc, Kel, clear out the eggs. Hayes, Sera, see if the Queen’s got anything useful. Everyone else focus on the webs,” Henry ordered.
Ron drew his knife and started slicing through the dense cobwebs. “Hey, what y’all think the Queen’s Tier is?”
Isaac paused to consider. “Eh, Tier 8, probably. Minotaur boss and Rillifane boss were both Tier 8, so I’d say the spider’s around the same level.”
“Well, the resilience of the specimen isn’t a definitive measure of the Tier,” Dr. Anderson pointed out. “It’s quite possible that we merely had the most suitable tools at hand in this particular encounter.”
“The scholar speaks truly,” Sera agreed. “There is nary a defining criterion; defense is but one of many that are considered by the Guild. Were it so simple, Kelmithus and I would have attained Tier 9 ere now.”
“So, what do you think the Queen is, then? Tier 7 maybe?” Ron asked.
Henry shook his head. Tier 7 didn’t seem accurate. Using his knife to scrape some of the webbing off his glove, he voiced, “Spiranids are weak in general, but are classified as Tier 5 or higher because of their traps, ambush tactics, numbers, and abilities. Archers can use Wind Snipe and mages can use wide-area spellcasting, but they can’t reliably penetrate the exoskeleton’s armor. If anything, this is probably on the lower end of Tier 9.”
“Tier 9, huh?” Isaac muttered.
Sera smiled as she stood back. She stuffed a frost-covered gland into her holding bag and paused from her work as she chimed in, “Hmm… how keen. I expected nothing less from the first Tier 6 entrants in Eldralore’s history! It shows plain why the Guild did so swiftly raise you.”
“Hah,” Henry chuckled. It was an amusing thought, but… “Say, ya think we can get to Tier 7 after this?”
Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Tier 7? A mark of no slight merit. What have you achieved since attaining Tier 6?”
Henry reached to scratch his chin, then cursed softly as his glove thudded against his visor. “Well, we took down a Rillifane pack, a Sentinel Lindwyrm, and now this primal Spiranid Queen. That’s not too shabby, eh?”
“Firm victories,” Sera admitted, “but advancement weighs more than battle alone. The Guild also considers quest difficulty, knowledge gained therefrom, and impact – in other words, glory.”
“The Baranthurian Ruins,” Dr. Anderson blurted, taking the words out of Henry’s mouth. He turned to Kelmithus, who approached them after confirming that the eggs had been cleared out. “Surely, working with the Sanctum Arcanum must be quite the honour. The Guild holds their quests with high esteem, wouldn’t you say?”
Kelmithus nodded, burning a clump of disposed webs on the ground. “True as that may be, advancement oft hinges upon the cumulative experience of dozens of quests.”
“Well, ain’t no small feats for us lately,” Ryan remarked. “The quest to the Baranthurian ruins, what was it, Tier 8? Yeah, that was Tier 8. Sentinel Lindwyrm? Hell, Tier Nine. That there beast?” Ryan pointed his gun at the carcass of the Spiranid Queen. “Tier 9 as well.”
Ron interjected, “Plus we’ve been helping out along the way, like those villagers, and taking on quests others won’t touch. Honestly, the Hardale quest should be pretty weighty too, considering the Nobian shenanigans.”
Sera hummed, mulling over Alpha Team’s experiences. The fact that most of their quests at Tier 6 had essentially been Tier 7 quests or higher in difficulty was probably unheard of in the Guild. Not only that, but they’d been able to complete these difficult quests successfully. Hell, with flying colors, even. That had to count for something.
Henry looked over at Sera, stepping back as he allowed Kelmithus to dispose of the webs that he had cleared out. “So, whaddya think? Based on what we’ve done, you think we got a shot at Tier 7?”
Sera looked up at the ceiling as she weighed her response. “Ehh, you’ve a strong case. Alas, it’s Taldren’s call to make. His favor seems yours, though; I wager he’ll agree.”
Henry grinned. Moving up meant they could have access to more quests. Naturally, that also meant better rewards and in turn, access to some truly magical equipment. “Good to hear. Guess we’ll see to it once we get back to Eldralore. Now, we should probably –”
A soft glow of light gradually lit up the room, interrupting Henry mid-sentence. He squinted, readying his weapon. The light came from the walls and ceiling, illuminating the once-dark chamber. The obelisk, now free of webs, now hummed… healthily? It wasn’t like he had a manual to tell him if this was a good or bad development, but judging from the facility’s reaction, it must’ve worked.
Henry glanced at his HUD. The temperature readings were rising, too. The icy chill from Kelmithus’ magic rapidly dissipated as the environmental controls kicked in. “Well, looks like we’ve done all we can here. Let’s head back to the containment cell room and see if we can find anything else of interest.”
– – –
Outskirts of GB-2, Grenden Forest
Carvus Alnect Virelius narrowed his gaze toward the brightening sky, his eyes cutting through the retreating mist that had long veiled the forest’s canopy. This unprecedented clarity above the ruins was strange. After centuries cloaked in an impenetrable fog, why did the skies clear now?
The Umber Vicearch’s mind worked like a whetstone, sharpening the fragments of reports from his scouts, cryptic as they were. The recent skirmish, occurring concurrently with the lifting fog, could not be mere happenstance. Regardless of the answer, the unexpected fold presented a welcome complexity to test his mettle.
He set his thoughts aside as the sound of footsteps approached.
“Leuarch Eldreyn reporting, milord,” one of his men said. “We’ve word from Serarch Trelian.”
Carvus gave him a nod to continue.
Eldreyn relayed the news. “The scouts espy traces of battle: a fallen Sentinel Lindwyrm and two carriages left abandoned near the cave’s entrance. The land bears scars from some form of magic, strewn with strange metal tubes and other objects unknown to us. Save for the Lindwyrm, no other bodies are to be found. What are your commands, milord?”
Carvus took a deep breath. No other bodies? Two carriages? That such a formidable creature was felled with no apparent casualties among their ranks suggested a small but extraordinarily capable force. Each member was no doubt Tier 7 at the least. The limited number of carriages implied a party not larger than ten. But… what could the metal objects mean?
Powerful though they might be, could such a small group withstand his numbers? Carvus entertained the thought briefly. No, direct confrontation would be unwise. The site bore secrets too vital to squander on rash gambles. Better to maneuver them into a position where the only viable option would be to comply with his demands.
“Hold our position, Lornus,” Carvus commanded. While he preferred the safety of their hidden vantage in the forest, the intrigue of Trelian’s findings – the slain Lindwyrm – was too compelling to ignore. “The contents of Trelian’s report compel our own investigation. Lead us, that we might see for ourselves.”
“As you command, milord.”
It was a short walk to the clearing. As they reached the treeline, Carvus held up a hand, signaling his men to halt – they should go no further than the cover of the forest. The aftermath of the battle lay evident before them. The massive form of the Sentinel Lindwyrm sprawled near the far side of the clearing, its outline murky at a distance.
Carvus squinted, adjusting his position slightly for a better view. He felt his jaw drop, a lapse in composure that surprised even him. Yet, who could fault him? The beast lay nearly torn asunder, its massive body riddled with gaping, jagged wounds that no sword or arrow could inflict. Indeed, not even traditional siege weapons or combat spells could inflict such damage.
The destructive capability of fyric powder was well-known to him – he had seen its use in adamantite mines. The wounds on the Lindwyrm, however, spoke of a force of another Tier entirely. Where fyric powder might clear a path through a stubborn boulder, the agent used against the Sentinel Lindwyrm seemed capable of obliterating several boulders at once, perhaps even an entire cliffside.
Turning his attention from the ravaged beast, he scanned the battlefield. Among the chaos, his eyes caught the glint of metal – strange tubes scattered about, all some lighter shade of bronze. The craters were blackened and littered with debris: shards of metal mixed with wires. This was clearly no ordinary skirmish.
He moved closer to the tree line, cautiously examining the unfamiliar objects. The metal tubes bore no resemblance to any weapons known to Nobian forces. However, their presence here implied that somehow, these objects were related to the catastrophic wounds on the Lindwyrm.
Near the cave’s entrance, two metal carriages lay abandoned. Their exteriors were marred by dirt and marked with an array of dents that appeared to be from the Lindwyrm’s armored tail. The carriages, in style and make, aligned with reports of American machines observed by their Umbercari in distant Eldralore. Mounted atop each was a long cylinder. As foreign as they were, he could tell they were weapons – ones capable of unleashing formidable destruction.
Adventurers throughout the ages had ventured here, all repelled by the formidable Lindwyrm that long guarded these grounds. Had it been folly to devote their resources to the conquest of their neighbors, rather than to mastering and exploiting this site? Such questions surpassed his station, yet irrespective of the answers, the Emperor would surely take no pleasure in learning that he had allowed Americans to plunder the Gatebuilder’s secrets.
Carvus turned to Lornus. “Bid our scouts to investigate the cave.” As Leuarch Eldreyn departed to carry out the orders, he beckoned to one of his serarchs. “Bring me one of those metal tubes. I wish to examine it.”
He sat on a rock, watching the light bend around the man’s form until he vanished from sight. The serarch then adjusted the temperature around his body, matching it to that of the forest. Were it not for the subtle shifts in the man’s mana as he held the spells, Carvus would have surely lost track of him.
The serarch made his way forth, passing through the trees and into the clearing beyond. With haste, he seized upon one of the tubes that lay scattered about, and then, as quick as he had come, he turned and made his way back to the forest’s edge. When at last he returned, Carvus stood up and held out his hand.
The tube, lighter than its solidity might have portended, was chill to the touch and was marked by a patina that showed clear signs of bending. He tried to bend it with his fingers, but the metal resisted. Even when he used magic to strengthen himself, it yielded naught but scant impression. What could have possibly moved the metal?
Looking closely, he noticed that the metal wasn’t bronze, as he had first thought. Though bearing a hue akin to bronze, it was of a kind unfamiliar to him. The surface was engraved with American script – characters and sequences that held little meaning to him. Yet, to deem the letters ‘engraved’ would be to err; it was as if they were imprinted with a craftsmanship nary a smith could rival.
He turned it over in his hands, his eyes drawn to a circular groove near the base. Examining both ends, Carvus noted the open end was distorted as if a great force had expelled something from within – an insight into his previous question. The other end was sealed, marked by a small, precise indentation. He held it up, aligning it with a similarly sized hole in a nearby tree.
This was no common weapon. As a trebuchet releases its load, so too must this tube have hurled its own projectile. It gave him an idea. What if one were to use an adamantite tube with fyric powder, place a keen arrowhead atop, and ignite the mixture below? Would it rival a standard Wind Snipe combined with physical enhancement magic?
Carvus’ thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out to him. “Milord.”
“Hm?” He looked up, finding the face of Leuarch Franus. “What is it, Martano?”
He hesitated, as if second-guessing his words. “The… The Lindwyrm… The men grow restless, milord. They wish to claim the spoils of this battle – the Sentinel Lindwyrm’s materials are prized in many a lore. And these carriages, would it not profit us to salvage what we can? They may hold more secrets – or riches.”
He turned the leuarch’s words over in his mind as he would a well-worn coin. In truth, the idea held merit. Even the smallest measure of a Lindwyrm’s blood was a treasure beyond compare – to say nothing of the other materials, sought after by alchemists and smiths alike. That the Americans had forgone harvest was a curious thing indeed. Could it be that they were ignorant of the creature’s true worth? Or perhaps, had they found something more valuable?
And then there were the carriages, gleaming in the sun like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. If they could but glean some understanding of how the Americans had so deftly slain a beast of the Lindwyrm’s standing, it would surely prove a boon to the Empire’s own martial pursuits. Perhaps, armed with such knowledge, they might at last gain the upper hand against the accursed Sonarans.
Carvus cast his gaze once more upon the clearing, then turned to face Martano. “Aye,” he said. “Let it be so.”
Yet, as he made to step forth, a low, droning sound beckoned his attention – a buzzing hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The unfamiliar noise compelled him to halt. He raised his hand, stopping his men as he searched for the noise. He tilted his head skyward, squinting as he beheld a strange sight: a winged thing hanging in the air above the clearing, like an animal circling its prey. As the sunlight reflected off its surface, it became evident to him that this was no creature of flesh, but a machine – much like the metal carriages.
“Hold,” Carvus ordered. “We dare not venture forth.”
Martano stepped forward, doubt and confusion etched across his face. “But, milord, if we shroud ourselves in invisibility, surely they cannot see us.”
Carvus shook his head. “Nay; recall the umbercari we sent to infiltrate the Duke’s mansion. They, too, thought themselves hidden, yet were somehow discovered. We know not what sorcery that flying machine might possess, and we cannot risk exposing ourselves.”
Before Martano could respond or venture any further protest, the scouts returned, led by Serarch Trelian. The search bowed his head before providing his report, “Milord, the cave lies empty, and the Lindwyrm’s nest remains untouched. We discovered footprints leading to a great sealed door, which we believe to be the entrance to the ruins.”
Carvus nodded. The Americans had ventured forth and left the loot behind for a reason. He thought back to a fortress that the Empire once sacrificed to encircle the forces of the now-conquered Kingdom of Durenelle. “So be it. Let us abandon these lesser spoils. As our adversaries have forgone these spoils in pursuit of greater gains, so must we sacrifice Straltus.”
Next
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First
Ron peeked around the corner, his M4E1 Carl Gustaf already loaded with standard HEAT rounds. The rest of Alpha Team stacked up behind him or behind Ryan, who was on the other side of the doorway. Through the opening, they could see a nightmarish tangle of webs and egg sacs, with the skittering shapes of Spiranids lurking in the shadows in the far corners of the room.
The Queen was positioned in the center of the room, completely exposed by a cluster of eggs. Henry watched as Ron leveled his Gustaf, taking aim at the Queen while they stayed along the wall to ensure Ron’s backblast was clear. It should have been an easy kill, but a flicker of movement caught Henry’s eye.
A blob of white flew across his vision, smacking into Ron just as he fired his weapon. The thick strands of webbing bypassed Kelmithus’ shielding and wrapped around him, sending him flying back a couple of meters. He landed on his back, his body and launcher completely stuck to the floor by the condensed silk.
Around the same time, the Gustaf’s projectile struck the Queen’s abdomen section. The resulting blast tore through its exoskeleton but was far from a fatal blow. The Queen shrieked, a sound far deeper than Henry expected.
“Fuck!” Ron shouted, struggling to break free from the webbing.
Henry exhaled. They were a man down, but helping him had to wait; the not-dead Queen and its minions took precedence. It would be great if he had another launcher in his own Holding Bag, but that was something he’d have to bring up to Chief Cole later. Henry tossed his grenades into the room, the pops mingling with the screeches of injured Spiranids. Ryan struck simultaneously, throwing his own collection into the mix. Like firecrackers, the explosives were violent but short-lived.
As the chaos subsided, Henry pushed in. Raising his shotgun, he tore through a Spiranid that pounced at him, its carcass smoldering from the white phosphorous. Beside him, Isaac, Ryan, and Dr. Anderson’s shots rang out, tearing through their own sectors of fire.
Almost immediately upon their entry, the Queen surged forward with terrifying speed. It reared its head back like it was about to vomit, mandibles covered in a sick, yellowish color. Henry recognized immediately what it was trying to do. “Acid, move!”
Henry dove away from his previous position, taking a shot at another Spiranid that had taken the opportunity to jump at him while its master was preparing to attack. He narrowly escaped the lethal spray as it jetted toward him. The acid splattered on the ground where they had stood not even a second before, sizzling fiercely as it corroded the thick webbing sprawled across the floor. He noticed as he ran that, rather curiously, the acid was simply puddling on the floor. There was no damage to the floor itself, but if it could tear apart high-quality monster silk just like that, he didn’t want to find out what it could do to an envirosuit.
Henry glanced back after blasting apart his third Spiranid. His teammates were fine – Ryan helping him keep the Queen’s attention, Sera already on her way to Ron, and the others taking care of the smaller Spiranids. He tried to get a quick headcount of how many Spiranids they’d already eliminated. Between their guns, Kelmithus’ magic, and the grenades, he estimated they had killed at least a dozen so far. Solid progress, but the fact that they weren’t able to take out the Queen with their first strike was an issue.
Henry rolled to his left as the Queen pounced on his previous position. It was fucking fast, like a Goliath birdeater but scaled up – and with nasty abilities that really shouldn’t belong on a creature like this. He recovered quickly and took aim, firing point-blank into its thorax. The white phosphorous pellets hissed as they burned into its exoskeleton, forcing it back.
Beside him, Ryan’s shotgun boomed. He struck the Queen’s legs, which seemed to be more fragile than the thick exoskeleton surrounding the head and thorax. The pellets bit into the chitin, likely striking a nerve as evidenced by the leg’s subsequent buckling and collapse. It was a lucky shot – one that he doubted they could repeat four or five more times.
“Sera, use my knife! Here, right here!” Ron called out.
Sera’s sword must’ve been too large to effectively cut through the webbing. They had to hurry up. He and Ryan had been dodging the Queen’s attacks, but mostly by a hair’s breadth. All it took was one lucky hit from the Queen to put them out of commission, possibly for good. “Sera, status on Ron?”
“One minute!” she responded.
Damn. That was one minute later than he’d hoped. Reacting instinctively, Henry noted the Queen raising one of its legs – a sure sign of it preparing for another attack. The Queen struck again, this time cleaving the air with the leg, aiming to corral him into a predictable escape route. As its leg swept through the air, Henry caught sight of the Queen rearing its head back in a grotesque mimicry of a snake about to strike – another acid attack.
Anticipating the monster’s strategy, Henry feinted to the right, a move he hoped would mislead it about his true intentions. As the Queen’s head followed his feint, Henry twisted sharply, scraping against the rough ground. With a powerful push from his legs, he launched backward just as the Queen unleashed its attack.
Acid spewed forth in a wide arc, splattering where he had just been. The corrosive globs almost instantly melted the webbing on the floor, collecting into pools. And there was the second issue. The longer this fight dragged on, the less room they’d have to maneuver.
Henry unloaded into the creature’s compound eyes before tossing a flashbang near its legs. The creature staggered backward, blinded in both its eyes and its sensory hairs. Henry used the precious few seconds he bought to reload his weapon and check up on his team. “Yen, sitrep?”
“Stragglers neutralized; we’re moving to you now.”
Automatic gunfire erupted as Isaac and Dr. Anderson joined the fight against the Queen, dumping their mags on the creature’s head. The 6.8mm seemed to penetrate well, but he could say the same if they fought an elephant; the Spiranid Queen was simply too large for the relatively small caliber rounds to have any effect besides pissing it off.
The Queen lunged again, its legs surrounding him from all sides. There was only one way out, and it was through the belly of the beast. Henry rushed forward, ducking under the Queen’s mandibles as he slid underneath its abdomen. He fired his shotgun as quickly as he could, unloading pellets into the beast’s underbelly. The white phosphorous scorched the softer flesh, drawing a shriek of pain from the massive creature.
As the Queen writhed under the relentless assault, Ryan and the others seized the moment to reload their weapons and reposition. They poured everything they had into the creature’s cephalothorax, bluish ichor oozing from the hundreds of new wounds that they opened up. Yet, it was like chipping away at a mountain – it simply wasn’t enough. The creature thrashed around violently in response; Henry knew it was only a matter of time before it landed a hit on someone.
And land a hit it did. With a terrifying swiftness, one of its massive legs slammed into Henry’s chest, launching him backward. The shield Kelmithus cast on him flickered as it absorbed the brunt of the impact. He crashed into an egg sac by the entrance – its membrane ruptured on impact, drenching him in a sticky, corrosive slime. The sac provided little cushion, and he hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of him.
Pain flared across Henry’s chest where the Queen’s leg had struck him. Gasping for breath and battling the encroaching blackness in his vision, he instinctively checked his envirosuit. He started with the areas he could see, glancing down at his chest. It was visibly deformed, dented but not quite a gash.
Still intact, thank goodness. No breach, but another hit like that would be disastrous. He breathed a sigh of relief, his chest hurting like hell as he did so. He checked his sides and back. Parts of his suit were covered in slime from the egg sac. It didn’t seem as corrosive as the Queen’s acid, but it was still a hazard. Quickly, he swiped at it, removing as much as possible with his gloved hands to prevent further damage.
He forced himself up, grabbing his shotgun from the floor. The Queen was already barreling toward him, the damn monster not letting up. He didn’t have time to make a run for it; he needed to jump to one side or the other, and the timing needed to be perfect. Just as the Queen’s shadow engulfed him, the air turned icy cold, frost creeping up on his visor.
Ice formed from thin air, spearing up from the ground and piercing through the Queen’s legs. The spikes rooted the beast in place. Not one to waste an opportunity, Henry dashed away from the entrance, firing at the immobilized giant spider as he linked up with the others.
“Sera?” Henry asked again.
Sera’s voice came in strained. “Almost…” Then, with a triumphant shout, she announced the word Henry had been desperate to hear. “Done!”
“Owens!” Henry said, risking a glance back.
Ron had already grabbed his Gustaf and was in the process of loading another HEAT round. “On it!”
Henry grinned. It was a relief, to be sure. With Ron free and back in the fight, the odds had just tipped heavily in their favor. The Queen was tough, but it wasn’t invincible; they just needed an opening.
Given the damage the Queen sustained to its body, Henry couldn’t imagine it being in peak fighting condition. Even in its weakened state, though, it still had the capability to dodge Ron’s attack, and it seemed to be saving its web ability for that very inevitability.
“Take out the legs!” Henry ordered.
They combined their fire on the left legs, since Ryan managed to break one of them earlier. He heard a crack that might’ve been the chitin giving way or the leg snapping, but it was hard to tell. He was just about to chalk it up to the prevailing gunfire around them, but then he saw it: a brief stumble. The Queen recovered quickly, but it was clear to Henry that it wouldn’t be able to manage any more damage to its legs.
Then, he noticed a blur in his peripheral vision to his right, moving so fast his eyes could barely keep up. Shit, he was certain he kept track of the Queen’s movements. With the existing damage to his envirosuit, he’d be completely fucked. He braced himself for another impact, but it never came.
As he focused harder on the blur, he caught a glimpse of a flash of light that could only be one thing – Sera’s sword, And, just like a flash of lightning, she had already cleared the vicinity of the Queen. The Queen’s foreleg seemed to simply vanish, severed so cleanly that it took a moment for the beast to realize what had happened. When it did, it let out a screech of pain, its balance faltering as it tried to adapt to the sudden change.
While Henry focused on taking out another leg from the left side, Sera had already shifted to her next target. Their assault was brutal: white phosphorus pellets and hard-hitting 6.8mm on one side, ice magic and skilled swordsmanship on the other. And to think, they managed to inflict all this damage by the time Ron completed his reload.
“Clear the way!” Ron called out, his Gustaf aimed right at the Queen’s head.
Henry jumped back, watching as Kelmithus conjured another set of ice spikes to root the beast again, in case the five obliterated legs weren’t enough to keep it down. The Queen thrashed against the icy bonds, its remaining legs slashing through the air in a frenzied bid for freedom. It spat acid – a tactic that would’ve worked effectively on most other materials, but instead simply got diluted with the melting ice. Even as the acid reacted with the ice, the spikes held firm, anchoring the beast in place like steel cables.
Henry’s heart pounded in his ears. Come on, Owens, he urged silently. Take the shot.
As if on cue, Ron pulled the trigger. The Gustaf bucked in his hands as the HEAT round streaked towards its target. Henry barely had time to brace himself before the explosion hit, the shockwave slamming into him and nearly toppling him over. He staggered back, gazing into the settling dust.
When the smoke cleared, the Queen’s head was obliterated – replaced by a gory mess of shattered chitin and pulverized flesh. Blood sprayed from the gaping hole, covering the ground in a pale blue hue. The creature’s body convulsed, its remaining legs scrabbling weakly at their surroundings.
A surge of triumph washed over Henry, but it was fleeting. From the corner of his eye, he locked on to a glimpse of movement. One of the Queen’s legs continued to spasmodically jerk around and spray the ground with blue ichor. He raised his shotgun in a nonchalant motion and blasted the errant limb, watching as it shuddered and went still.
Sera stepped up, her sword barely catching the light as she jammed it into what was left of the Queen’s thorax. A sharp twist, and it was over. She then yanked the blade from the carcass, her grip shifting subtly along the hilt. As she flicked the sword, frost swiftly coated the ichor clinging to the metal. The frozen debris was flung off, hitting the ground and shattering like glass.
He glanced down at his Holding Bag. Damn, the fight took out most of his shells. Swapping out his shotgun for his M7, he turned to his team and took stock of their condition. It seemed everyone had mostly gone unscathed, only debris and dirt scarring their envirosuits. Well, except for himself and Ron. “Think we’re gonna have to start calling you pinata now,” Henry said, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
Ron scoffed. “Yeah? Says the runner-up,” he said, tapping the dent on Henry’s envirosuit. “Better ‘pinata’ than ‘roadkill’, though. But seriously, what’s next? Don’t even know where to start.”
The room was empty, save for the debris strewn about and the singular obelisk standing in the center of the room. He didn’t notice it earlier, but as he got closer, he realized that the obelisk emitted a faint light that barely escaped the canopy of webs. He looked it up and down before turning to the others. “Only one place to start. Let’s clear out the webs, see what’s hiding below.”
“Doc, Kel, clear out the eggs. Hayes, Sera, see if the Queen’s got anything useful. Everyone else focus on the webs,” Henry ordered.
Ron drew his knife and started slicing through the dense cobwebs. “Hey, what y’all think the Queen’s Tier is?”
Isaac paused to consider. “Eh, Tier 8, probably. Minotaur boss and Rillifane boss were both Tier 8, so I’d say the spider’s around the same level.”
“Well, the resilience of the specimen isn’t a definitive measure of the Tier,” Dr. Anderson pointed out. “It’s quite possible that we merely had the most suitable tools at hand in this particular encounter.”
“The scholar speaks truly,” Sera agreed. “There is nary a defining criterion; defense is but one of many that are considered by the Guild. Were it so simple, Kelmithus and I would have attained Tier 9 ere now.”
“So, what do you think the Queen is, then? Tier 7 maybe?” Ron asked.
Henry shook his head. Tier 7 didn’t seem accurate. Using his knife to scrape some of the webbing off his glove, he voiced, “Spiranids are weak in general, but are classified as Tier 5 or higher because of their traps, ambush tactics, numbers, and abilities. Archers can use Wind Snipe and mages can use wide-area spellcasting, but they can’t reliably penetrate the exoskeleton’s armor. If anything, this is probably on the lower end of Tier 9.”
“Tier 9, huh?” Isaac muttered.
Sera smiled as she stood back. She stuffed a frost-covered gland into her holding bag and paused from her work as she chimed in, “Hmm… how keen. I expected nothing less from the first Tier 6 entrants in Eldralore’s history! It shows plain why the Guild did so swiftly raise you.”
“Hah,” Henry chuckled. It was an amusing thought, but… “Say, ya think we can get to Tier 7 after this?”
Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Tier 7? A mark of no slight merit. What have you achieved since attaining Tier 6?”
Henry reached to scratch his chin, then cursed softly as his glove thudded against his visor. “Well, we took down a Rillifane pack, a Sentinel Lindwyrm, and now this primal Spiranid Queen. That’s not too shabby, eh?”
“Firm victories,” Sera admitted, “but advancement weighs more than battle alone. The Guild also considers quest difficulty, knowledge gained therefrom, and impact – in other words, glory.”
“The Baranthurian Ruins,” Dr. Anderson blurted, taking the words out of Henry’s mouth. He turned to Kelmithus, who approached them after confirming that the eggs had been cleared out. “Surely, working with the Sanctum Arcanum must be quite the honour. The Guild holds their quests with high esteem, wouldn’t you say?”
Kelmithus nodded, burning a clump of disposed webs on the ground. “True as that may be, advancement oft hinges upon the cumulative experience of dozens of quests.”
“Well, ain’t no small feats for us lately,” Ryan remarked. “The quest to the Baranthurian ruins, what was it, Tier 8? Yeah, that was Tier 8. Sentinel Lindwyrm? Hell, Tier Nine. That there beast?” Ryan pointed his gun at the carcass of the Spiranid Queen. “Tier 9 as well.”
Ron interjected, “Plus we’ve been helping out along the way, like those villagers, and taking on quests others won’t touch. Honestly, the Hardale quest should be pretty weighty too, considering the Nobian shenanigans.”
Sera hummed, mulling over Alpha Team’s experiences. The fact that most of their quests at Tier 6 had essentially been Tier 7 quests or higher in difficulty was probably unheard of in the Guild. Not only that, but they’d been able to complete these difficult quests successfully. Hell, with flying colors, even. That had to count for something.
Henry looked over at Sera, stepping back as he allowed Kelmithus to dispose of the webs that he had cleared out. “So, whaddya think? Based on what we’ve done, you think we got a shot at Tier 7?”
Sera looked up at the ceiling as she weighed her response. “Ehh, you’ve a strong case. Alas, it’s Taldren’s call to make. His favor seems yours, though; I wager he’ll agree.”
Henry grinned. Moving up meant they could have access to more quests. Naturally, that also meant better rewards and in turn, access to some truly magical equipment. “Good to hear. Guess we’ll see to it once we get back to Eldralore. Now, we should probably –”
A soft glow of light gradually lit up the room, interrupting Henry mid-sentence. He squinted, readying his weapon. The light came from the walls and ceiling, illuminating the once-dark chamber. The obelisk, now free of webs, now hummed… healthily? It wasn’t like he had a manual to tell him if this was a good or bad development, but judging from the facility’s reaction, it must’ve worked.
Henry glanced at his HUD. The temperature readings were rising, too. The icy chill from Kelmithus’ magic rapidly dissipated as the environmental controls kicked in. “Well, looks like we’ve done all we can here. Let’s head back to the containment cell room and see if we can find anything else of interest.”
– – –
Outskirts of GB-2, Grenden Forest
Carvus Alnect Virelius narrowed his gaze toward the brightening sky, his eyes cutting through the retreating mist that had long veiled the forest’s canopy. This unprecedented clarity above the ruins was strange. After centuries cloaked in an impenetrable fog, why did the skies clear now?
The Umber Vicearch’s mind worked like a whetstone, sharpening the fragments of reports from his scouts, cryptic as they were. The recent skirmish, occurring concurrently with the lifting fog, could not be mere happenstance. Regardless of the answer, the unexpected fold presented a welcome complexity to test his mettle.
He set his thoughts aside as the sound of footsteps approached.
“Leuarch Eldreyn reporting, milord,” one of his men said. “We’ve word from Serarch Trelian.”
Carvus gave him a nod to continue.
Eldreyn relayed the news. “The scouts espy traces of battle: a fallen Sentinel Lindwyrm and two carriages left abandoned near the cave’s entrance. The land bears scars from some form of magic, strewn with strange metal tubes and other objects unknown to us. Save for the Lindwyrm, no other bodies are to be found. What are your commands, milord?”
Carvus took a deep breath. No other bodies? Two carriages? That such a formidable creature was felled with no apparent casualties among their ranks suggested a small but extraordinarily capable force. Each member was no doubt Tier 7 at the least. The limited number of carriages implied a party not larger than ten. But… what could the metal objects mean?
Powerful though they might be, could such a small group withstand his numbers? Carvus entertained the thought briefly. No, direct confrontation would be unwise. The site bore secrets too vital to squander on rash gambles. Better to maneuver them into a position where the only viable option would be to comply with his demands.
“Hold our position, Lornus,” Carvus commanded. While he preferred the safety of their hidden vantage in the forest, the intrigue of Trelian’s findings – the slain Lindwyrm – was too compelling to ignore. “The contents of Trelian’s report compel our own investigation. Lead us, that we might see for ourselves.”
“As you command, milord.”
It was a short walk to the clearing. As they reached the treeline, Carvus held up a hand, signaling his men to halt – they should go no further than the cover of the forest. The aftermath of the battle lay evident before them. The massive form of the Sentinel Lindwyrm sprawled near the far side of the clearing, its outline murky at a distance.
Carvus squinted, adjusting his position slightly for a better view. He felt his jaw drop, a lapse in composure that surprised even him. Yet, who could fault him? The beast lay nearly torn asunder, its massive body riddled with gaping, jagged wounds that no sword or arrow could inflict. Indeed, not even traditional siege weapons or combat spells could inflict such damage.
The destructive capability of fyric powder was well-known to him – he had seen its use in adamantite mines. The wounds on the Lindwyrm, however, spoke of a force of another Tier entirely. Where fyric powder might clear a path through a stubborn boulder, the agent used against the Sentinel Lindwyrm seemed capable of obliterating several boulders at once, perhaps even an entire cliffside.
Turning his attention from the ravaged beast, he scanned the battlefield. Among the chaos, his eyes caught the glint of metal – strange tubes scattered about, all some lighter shade of bronze. The craters were blackened and littered with debris: shards of metal mixed with wires. This was clearly no ordinary skirmish.
He moved closer to the tree line, cautiously examining the unfamiliar objects. The metal tubes bore no resemblance to any weapons known to Nobian forces. However, their presence here implied that somehow, these objects were related to the catastrophic wounds on the Lindwyrm.
Near the cave’s entrance, two metal carriages lay abandoned. Their exteriors were marred by dirt and marked with an array of dents that appeared to be from the Lindwyrm’s armored tail. The carriages, in style and make, aligned with reports of American machines observed by their Umbercari in distant Eldralore. Mounted atop each was a long cylinder. As foreign as they were, he could tell they were weapons – ones capable of unleashing formidable destruction.
Adventurers throughout the ages had ventured here, all repelled by the formidable Lindwyrm that long guarded these grounds. Had it been folly to devote their resources to the conquest of their neighbors, rather than to mastering and exploiting this site? Such questions surpassed his station, yet irrespective of the answers, the Emperor would surely take no pleasure in learning that he had allowed Americans to plunder the Gatebuilder’s secrets.
Carvus turned to Lornus. “Bid our scouts to investigate the cave.” As Leuarch Eldreyn departed to carry out the orders, he beckoned to one of his serarchs. “Bring me one of those metal tubes. I wish to examine it.”
He sat on a rock, watching the light bend around the man’s form until he vanished from sight. The serarch then adjusted the temperature around his body, matching it to that of the forest. Were it not for the subtle shifts in the man’s mana as he held the spells, Carvus would have surely lost track of him.
The serarch made his way forth, passing through the trees and into the clearing beyond. With haste, he seized upon one of the tubes that lay scattered about, and then, as quick as he had come, he turned and made his way back to the forest’s edge. When at last he returned, Carvus stood up and held out his hand.
The tube, lighter than its solidity might have portended, was chill to the touch and was marked by a patina that showed clear signs of bending. He tried to bend it with his fingers, but the metal resisted. Even when he used magic to strengthen himself, it yielded naught but scant impression. What could have possibly moved the metal?
Looking closely, he noticed that the metal wasn’t bronze, as he had first thought. Though bearing a hue akin to bronze, it was of a kind unfamiliar to him. The surface was engraved with American script – characters and sequences that held little meaning to him. Yet, to deem the letters ‘engraved’ would be to err; it was as if they were imprinted with a craftsmanship nary a smith could rival.
He turned it over in his hands, his eyes drawn to a circular groove near the base. Examining both ends, Carvus noted the open end was distorted as if a great force had expelled something from within – an insight into his previous question. The other end was sealed, marked by a small, precise indentation. He held it up, aligning it with a similarly sized hole in a nearby tree.
This was no common weapon. As a trebuchet releases its load, so too must this tube have hurled its own projectile. It gave him an idea. What if one were to use an adamantite tube with fyric powder, place a keen arrowhead atop, and ignite the mixture below? Would it rival a standard Wind Snipe combined with physical enhancement magic?
Carvus’ thoughts were interrupted by someone calling out to him. “Milord.”
“Hm?” He looked up, finding the face of Leuarch Franus. “What is it, Martano?”
He hesitated, as if second-guessing his words. “The… The Lindwyrm… The men grow restless, milord. They wish to claim the spoils of this battle – the Sentinel Lindwyrm’s materials are prized in many a lore. And these carriages, would it not profit us to salvage what we can? They may hold more secrets – or riches.”
He turned the leuarch’s words over in his mind as he would a well-worn coin. In truth, the idea held merit. Even the smallest measure of a Lindwyrm’s blood was a treasure beyond compare – to say nothing of the other materials, sought after by alchemists and smiths alike. That the Americans had forgone harvest was a curious thing indeed. Could it be that they were ignorant of the creature’s true worth? Or perhaps, had they found something more valuable?
And then there were the carriages, gleaming in the sun like ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. If they could but glean some understanding of how the Americans had so deftly slain a beast of the Lindwyrm’s standing, it would surely prove a boon to the Empire’s own martial pursuits. Perhaps, armed with such knowledge, they might at last gain the upper hand against the accursed Sonarans.
Carvus cast his gaze once more upon the clearing, then turned to face Martano. “Aye,” he said. “Let it be so.”
Yet, as he made to step forth, a low, droning sound beckoned his attention – a buzzing hum that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. The unfamiliar noise compelled him to halt. He raised his hand, stopping his men as he searched for the noise. He tilted his head skyward, squinting as he beheld a strange sight: a winged thing hanging in the air above the clearing, like an animal circling its prey. As the sunlight reflected off its surface, it became evident to him that this was no creature of flesh, but a machine – much like the metal carriages.
“Hold,” Carvus ordered. “We dare not venture forth.”
Martano stepped forward, doubt and confusion etched across his face. “But, milord, if we shroud ourselves in invisibility, surely they cannot see us.”
Carvus shook his head. “Nay; recall the umbercari we sent to infiltrate the Duke’s mansion. They, too, thought themselves hidden, yet were somehow discovered. We know not what sorcery that flying machine might possess, and we cannot risk exposing ourselves.”
Before Martano could respond or venture any further protest, the scouts returned, led by Serarch Trelian. The search bowed his head before providing his report, “Milord, the cave lies empty, and the Lindwyrm’s nest remains untouched. We discovered footprints leading to a great sealed door, which we believe to be the entrance to the ruins.”
Carvus nodded. The Americans had ventured forth and left the loot behind for a reason. He thought back to a fortress that the Empire once sacrificed to encircle the forces of the now-conquered Kingdom of Durenelle. “So be it. Let us abandon these lesser spoils. As our adversaries have forgone these spoils in pursuit of greater gains, so must we sacrifice Straltus.”
2024.05.15 17:42 Ithinkibrokethis Universal m1 carbine "no visible rifling"
 | I have asked a couple of other questions about my new rifle, but I wanted to get some more opinions. submitted by Ithinkibrokethis to M1Rifles [link] [comments] I picked up a universal m1, later model (I know the concerns) for a really good price because it was listed as "mechanically fully functional but no visible rifling." The pawn shop said that sometimes they accidentally shipped them with just the gun assembled and the barrel blanked but unrifled. However, I now have the gun in hand, and it has obviously been fired and used. It has handling marks and its in a used but not abused condition. My questions are
Thanks |
2024.05.15 17:35 TriBiscuit Occupation Hazard [36]
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Memory transcription subject: Herq, Tilfish Junior Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: December 3rd, 2136
“Understood, on our way.” Frankie stuffed his radio away.
“W-What? More Arxur?” I shivered.
“Don’t think so. Hope not. We gotta go to the van.”
The human didn't give me time to reply as he stepped over the body like it wasn’t even there. Swallowing some bile, I took aimed steps around it. The smell of blood wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn’t any worse than burning flesh.
The stomps of Frankie’s boots down the stairs reminded me to keep moving. I scuttled down the stairs, turning the corner to see another body I was forced to step around. Two of them had come after us, two who were even more eager than the first group we encountered.
“Do you t-think it’s the same ones from before?” I asked.
The human grunted. “Hell if I know. But I wouldn’t doubt it one bit if it was. Guy got his ego hurt, and wanted some revenge. God knows if he was waiting there for an ambush.”
“They… couldn’t have known about the weapons, right?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. He at least knew we were stranded without a vehicle. Maybe put his bets on us getting some transport.”
I didn’t have much time to ponder it. Frankie was already peeking outside the building, shotgun raised. I came up behind him, checking behind as we scooted out of the building. Once he was confident, Frankie dashed towards the van.
We came upon it quickly. I was glad the Arxur he shot was on the other side to spare me from the gore. He turned around to the backside of the van, where his face contorted. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I asked, coming around next to him.
The scaly legs are the first thing I saw. They led up to its back, which looked like it had exploded. Blood was nearly everywhere around the gray, and I even thought I saw a piece of bone. My whole body begged me to run away from the gore, to find a corner to throw up in, but I couldn't look away. And that didn't even cover the Yotul.
The green-stained wraps around his legs were the first thing I noticed after the hulking mass of reptile. His right paw was a bleeding mess haphazardly wrapped in a loose bandage, and his other was curled around an Arxur gun—its gun, I realized. His face had speckles of red on it, much like the rest of the van. There was what could only be described as a huge gun beside him.
Relief washed over his features once he saw us, and he let the weapon clatter onto a bloody crate. “Where’s Luke?”
I watched Frankie for any signs of turning feral, despite the improbability of it ever happening. The copious amount of blood was more than enough to drive any predator into a crazed frenzy, but still Frankie showed enormous restraint. If anything, he almost looked… disgusted by it. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
He took a quick breath to steady himself. “Uh, Dusty took a few rounds, he’s patching her up. I see you can… handle yourself.”
“No,” the Yotul spat back. “It almost…” His voice broke, and he shook his head.
Frankie nodded. “Let’s get moving. I’ll… clear the way, if you could help him, Herq.” The human crouched down and gripped the monster's legs and gave a tug. He started sliding the body out of the way, a trail of blood marking every crate it was slumped over.
I took a step forward, suppressing a gag at the sights and smells. It was like walking into a predator’s den. Dark and damp and terrible, with evidence of what happened drowning my entire field of view. “W-What happened? It looks-”
“I shot the bastard.”
I twitched my antennae. “R-Right.” I took several breaths before finding the strength to proceed. I tried to ignore the blood marked across the walls and creeped in, though I couldn’t ignore the green smears that were on the crates. I did my best to avoid stepping on… anything, really.
The Yotul grabbed a red box full of first aid supplies and set it by his right side. He began to peel off the green-stained gauze on his paw. “I need an extra paw for this.”
“Of course. You’re Reno, right?” He ignored me. I felt a shiver spread through my carapace as he revealed the wound. “T-Those look like-”
“Yeah, I know.”
I gave him a flick of my antennae. He raised a bottle of what I assumed to be antibiotic solution, which I took. I gingerly uncapped the bottle and murmured, “This is going to sting.”
“Do you constantly state the obvious? Just get it over with.”
I took his paw in my feeler and generously poured it over the wound. He let out a small groan, but nothing more. I wiped it, then took some gauze and began wrapping it far better than he could with just a paw and a mouth. I tightened it, and sealed it with some adhesive.
“There. I-I think that’s good, but I don’t commonly work with other species.”
“I can tell.” The Yotul began to get up on their injured legs.
“A-Are you sure you should be walking?” He ignored me again. I stuck out an arm to help him. “Here, at least-”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat, slapping me away with annoyance. He shakily stood up, leaning precariously against the side of the van atop the crates.
I waved my antennae with concern. “I… Let me know if-”
“I won’t,” he coldly said, not giving me so much as a glance back as he hobbled out of the van.
I don’t blame him. The Arxur looked like he was inches away from tearing him apart. Not to mention the claw marks on his wrist… I can’t imagine what happened to him just moments ago.
I crawled out of the van after him, glad to be out, but probably not nearly as glad as him. Frankie came from around the van and dusted his hands.
“That was gross.” He turned to Reno. “You’re up already? Your legs are-”
“Worry about them when we’re in the truck. We need to get the fuck away from here.” He leaned against the van, catching his breath. He was clearly in pain, but didn’t want to show it.
“Gotcha. Luke should be—ah, right there.”
I followed his gaze, spotting the truck rolling towards us with its cracked windows and decorated doors. It stopped right beside the van. A human stepped out, the same one from the predator disease facility. He took one look at Reno, worry spreading across his face. “Holy shit.”
Reno grunted. “That’s what Frankie said.”
“I… We can talk in the truck,” Luke decided.
“Is my gun still in the building?”
“In the backseat.”
The Yotul lowered his head, letting out a breath of relief. I didn’t understand how much a simple firearm could possibly mean to him, but I wasn’t about to question him about it.
Lieutenant Holtas came to the other side of the van, whistling once he saw the crate. “Damn, this is… a lot.”
“Enough to turn the tide, I hope?” Frankie asked.
“There’s a chance it might be… If there’s anything left once we get back. Two of their bunkers are already swarming with Arxur.”
“T-Two?” I stammered. “Which ones?”
The predator shook his head dismissively. “Talk later.”
I shook my antennae in irritation, until another human then emerged from around the truck. It was the dark-skinned, dark-haired human from before as well, Dusty. Her vest had several lesions across it, far more than the few Frankie had received during his gutsiness. She wasn’t unscathed, however, as her left sleeve had been pulled up, revealing a stripe of bandaging. Her eyes regarded me with an expression I couldn't decipher, turning into a more shocked expression when they saw Reno. “...Damn.”
The Lieutenant turned to her. “Keep an eye out from where they came. Reno, do the same for the other side of the street. I’m not looking to get ambushed again.”
The two signaled their understanding. Luke’s gaze lingered a little longer on the wounded Yotul as he hobbled to retrieve his weapon from the truck.
Frankie grunted from behind me, picking up two big and bloodied crates. “Open the doors, would ya?”
I obliged, yanking open the hatches to the truck so the burly human could deposit the weapons. Luke walked past me, saw the mess in the back of the van, and shook his head while muttering something. Still, he crouched and grabbed two crates in each hand.
I couldn’t very well just stand around, so I begrudgingly walked over and picked the cleanest crates I could manage while repelling the numerous dry heaves my body wanted to conjure. I hefted them up, and followed the same path as Luke and Frankie.
I passed Dusty, who groaned, rubbing her left arm. “Why do these idiots use such a small caliber? You’d think they’d want to kill the people they’re shooting at.”
I nervously tilted my antennae. “You would… hope so.”
“They enjoy the thrill of the hunt,” Reno growled. “Use it to just incapacitate their prey. Dead ones don’t squirm while they’re eaten.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the street. As we continued to load the human armaments into the truck, the two kept a cautious set of eyes out on either side of the street. Frankie managed to fit the big gun back into its respective crate while Luke stared at it, incredulously. Dusty glanced back with a similar look, which gave me the feeling the predators were all thinking the same thing. The only one who didn’t break his focus was Reno.
The van got emptier, the truck got fuller, and soon enough we were ready to leave this place for good. Luke gave us the clear and got into the driver seat. Frankie took the front passenger seat, leaving the three of us to squeeze into the back. The windshield left a lot to be desired, and I wondered if Luke would even be able to see through it.
It was cramped, to say the least. I was forced into the side, with the Yotul in the middle, while Dusty filled in the remaining seat. From someone looking in from outside, it would be a very strange sight to behold.
She slammed the door shut. “Tight fuckin’ fit. Hope we have enough fuel.”
“Won’t be an issue,” Luke said, sending the engine revving as we began to accelerate.
Thank Formi we’re finally leaving. How long have I been awake for? How long have the Arxur been in Tepisil? And how are the exterminators from the human camp doing? There’s far too much to worry about.
I hoped Tealk was fine in the hatchery’s bunker. That is, if it wasn’t already compromised. Tepisil was given the tiny mercy of just a small warning prior to any bombs dropping. The shelters were likely packed to the brim. Just waiting for the Arxur to come.
“Frankie, give me some light, would ya?” Dusty ordered. She had pulled Reno’s hindlegs on her lap, and was now inspecting them with the help of Frankie’s flashlight. I could see the green blood that had leaked down his legs from the wounds, along with pieces of black debris.
Reno had no choice but to let Dusty tend to him. I tried my best to ignore the blood she was forcing out by ripping through the bandages, though I gagged upon seeing her dig into his flesh with a pair of tweezers, pulling out a small bullet while he hissed in pain. Those were the only noises for a time while the human used a strange syringe to push some sort of foam into the wound, then tightly wrapping his legs.
She did a better job than I ever could’ve. At this point, it shouldn’t have impressed me that the predators had a concept of medicine or even treatment for the wounded, rather than just leaving the weak for dead. The amount of care she put into someone from another species spoke volumes to the humans’ empathetic capacity.
The streetlights of the city finally receded from us. I could almost feel the weighty air in the truck lighten, like a part of the despair had been left behind in Dirlsil. It wouldn’t last for long.
At some point in the middle of all the crop fields, Frankie cleared his throat. “Can I be the one to break the silence? ‘Cause Reno shot that gray with a whole bloody anti-materiel rifle.”
“God, I’m glad somebody finally fucking said it. Point blank, too,” Dusty said.
The Yotul didn’t offer a response, only stared off into the distance. I felt nothing but sympathy for him. They meant well, but I suspected they did more harm than good. The humans clearly had no idea what he’d just gone through; the fear, the uncertainty, the possibility of being eaten alive. I had a feeling the only reason he was alive was because of his quick thinking, the Arxur’s cockiness, and luck.
Luke cleared his throat. “Uh, how did you fare, Frankie? I saw the marks on your vest.”
My human grunted. “Barely even felt them hit me. Once the shooting started we dove back into the toy shop. Arxur are damn cocky bastards, but I don’t reckon they’re used to whatever they’re chasing fighting back so hard. Shot one, ran up the stairs, shot the other. Easy as that.”
It was not, in fact, as easy as that. I was terrified the entire time. It was Frankie who did everything, and even then, he screamed and shouted during the entire encounter. He was fearless in the face of fear while I had been useless. Again. My only saving grace was that I didn’t freeze like I did at the PD facility, even if that meant I merely ran instead. I felt a stab of anger mixed with regret, an entirely unwelcome feeling that I decidedly earned.
I can’t rely on the Terrans forever. At some point, my uncontrollable fear is going to cost lives. I… I can’t let fear be the driver.
“We had four of the fuckers on us,” Dusty said. “Retreated into the store opposite yours. We were doing just fine ‘till one of them tossed a grenade.”
I felt Reno tense up to me. He had a thousand-lightyear stare.
“Then they came in after us, separated us from Reno. They were fucking relentless, didn’t give us a chance to fight. Forced us all the way back into the stockroom, then kept pushing their luck. Finally had a corner, then the bastards leapt forward rather than being smart, getting me tagged. Hurts like hell just thinking about flexing the muscle.”
“God, can we change the subject? I regret asking,” Lieutenant Holtas said, shifting uncomfortably. “Frankie, you want to try again with the UN? And Herq, now that you’re with us, can you contact Von and inform him of what happened?”
I almost flinched when he said my name. “Y-Yeah, of course.” I started to pull out my holopad. I hovered over Tealk’s contact before moving to Von’s. I tapped the icon, and it rang for only a second before he picked up.
“Herq?”
I pulled the pad closer, overhearing Frankie start his own call to the UN. “Yes, it’s me. We made it out of Dirlsil with the weapons, and we’re in one piece.”
“Formi is that good to hear. I won't sugarcoat it, things have gotten much worse. You may have heard it from the humans, but cattle shuttles just landed around Bunker Four… which has no one to defend it. Bunker Six had contact and they are at a stalemate, but won't stay that way. I… sincerely hope you brought lots of ammo.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I can’t say for certain what the predators brought with us… We’re driving as fast as we can, we expect to be there in forty minutes.”
“Too long… The grays are already going into buildings, trying to flush them out. We don’t have the firepower.”
“I… We need a rally point in order to distribute them as fast as possible.”
“One advantage is that they aren’t using their numbers prowling the empty buildings on the outskirts… Shit, Polle is calling me… It’s about Bunker Six. Listen, I’ll send you more information when I can. Call me ten minutes before you reach the city.”
“Yes, of course. Please, stay safe.”
“We both know that isn’t going to happen. Hurry.”
A tone signified he hung up the call. I tentatively swirled my antennae, seeing my company look away. “I-I’m guessing everyone heard that?”
Reno flicked his ears, and the humans nodded from the front seats. A steady silence came over us. It was probably well into the early hours of the morning at this point. My body was tired, and my mind more so. I knew well that I should have been more scared or worried, but I simply didn’t have the energy. It was like Frankie said earlier.
“Who wants a granola bar?” Frankie abruptly barked.
Luke shrugged. “I mean…”
The two humans accepted his offer, not like they had much choice since they were already being distributed. A bar was put into Reno’s paws, and suddenly, I was holding one too.
“It… doesn’t have meat, does it?” I asked.
“No, you idiot. I don’t eat meat,” Reno hissed, unwrapping his food.
“Sorry… I just wanted-”
“It’s just a bar of sugary grain. You’d think you would know by now that humans aren’t going to hurt you, or do anything else ‘predatory.’” He said the last word with distaste, like it personally offended him. He was clearly more used to the primates than I was, or ever could be. I knew they wouldn’t mean me any harm, but it was hard to shake off the thoughts that always lingered in my mind when around predators.
I thought his behavior was simply fried nerves from his close call with the Arxur, but there was something more to it, something bitter in his tone that hinted at more than just the last encounter. It reminded me of hearing about his outburst at my sister, Tealk, back at the hatchery. It didn’t sit right with me, but I wasn’t in any position to ask him about it, especially not at that moment.
Dusty was already stuffing the bar into her mouth, not much caring for how revolting I found it. I’d gotten used to their toothy smiles, but seeing her take a bite, just like she would chow down on a piece of bloody meat… If I wasn’t so hungry after so many hours, I would’ve lost my appetite.
Reno bit into the bar, and I carefully unwrapped mine, ignoring the female’s sickening mouth movements. I gave a cautionary sniff before taking a small nibble. It was acceptable, even good considering I hadn’t eaten for so long. I took another bite, then another, and then I noticed Dusty looking at me.
I couldn’t help the way my muscles tensed in agitation. She was instinctively sizing me up, now that food was on her mind. “W-What is it?” I stuttered.
She raised her eyebrows, glancing away. “Nothing. Just the way you move your hands, er… tarsals? Tarsals, across your mandibles when you eat. It’s… nevermind.”
My… tarsals? I flexed a feeler, inspecting it like something was wrong with it. I looked back at the predator, who was now looking out the window. At least she wasn’t… staring at me anymore. Humans got stranger every moment I spent with them. I thought there was a glimmer of hope that they wouldn’t all be as strange as Frankie, but that clearly had yet to be proven.
I took another small bite. Before I knew it, I had eaten the whole thing and had nothing left to occupy the time. There were only dark crop fields outside our truck, and predators or the predator-diseased inside. Nothing to distract me from the knowledge that Sillis was going to fall. Nothing to distract me from the thoughts telling me to give up, to run away, like a coward.
A muted atmosphere of haunting tranquility came over our vehicle, one that everyone silently and willfully acknowledged. We all knew what we were driving towards.
—
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Thanks to u/WCR_706 for proofreading. And, of course, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe.
submitted by TriBiscuit to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
—
Memory transcription subject: Herq, Tilfish Junior Exterminator
Date [standardized human time]: December 3rd, 2136
“Understood, on our way.” Frankie stuffed his radio away.
“W-What? More Arxur?” I shivered.
“Don’t think so. Hope not. We gotta go to the van.”
The human didn't give me time to reply as he stepped over the body like it wasn’t even there. Swallowing some bile, I took aimed steps around it. The smell of blood wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It wasn’t any worse than burning flesh.
The stomps of Frankie’s boots down the stairs reminded me to keep moving. I scuttled down the stairs, turning the corner to see another body I was forced to step around. Two of them had come after us, two who were even more eager than the first group we encountered.
“Do you t-think it’s the same ones from before?” I asked.
The human grunted. “Hell if I know. But I wouldn’t doubt it one bit if it was. Guy got his ego hurt, and wanted some revenge. God knows if he was waiting there for an ambush.”
“They… couldn’t have known about the weapons, right?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. He at least knew we were stranded without a vehicle. Maybe put his bets on us getting some transport.”
I didn’t have much time to ponder it. Frankie was already peeking outside the building, shotgun raised. I came up behind him, checking behind as we scooted out of the building. Once he was confident, Frankie dashed towards the van.
We came upon it quickly. I was glad the Arxur he shot was on the other side to spare me from the gore. He turned around to the backside of the van, where his face contorted. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I asked, coming around next to him.
The scaly legs are the first thing I saw. They led up to its back, which looked like it had exploded. Blood was nearly everywhere around the gray, and I even thought I saw a piece of bone. My whole body begged me to run away from the gore, to find a corner to throw up in, but I couldn't look away. And that didn't even cover the Yotul.
The green-stained wraps around his legs were the first thing I noticed after the hulking mass of reptile. His right paw was a bleeding mess haphazardly wrapped in a loose bandage, and his other was curled around an Arxur gun—its gun, I realized. His face had speckles of red on it, much like the rest of the van. There was what could only be described as a huge gun beside him.
Relief washed over his features once he saw us, and he let the weapon clatter onto a bloody crate. “Where’s Luke?”
I watched Frankie for any signs of turning feral, despite the improbability of it ever happening. The copious amount of blood was more than enough to drive any predator into a crazed frenzy, but still Frankie showed enormous restraint. If anything, he almost looked… disgusted by it. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
He took a quick breath to steady himself. “Uh, Dusty took a few rounds, he’s patching her up. I see you can… handle yourself.”
“No,” the Yotul spat back. “It almost…” His voice broke, and he shook his head.
Frankie nodded. “Let’s get moving. I’ll… clear the way, if you could help him, Herq.” The human crouched down and gripped the monster's legs and gave a tug. He started sliding the body out of the way, a trail of blood marking every crate it was slumped over.
I took a step forward, suppressing a gag at the sights and smells. It was like walking into a predator’s den. Dark and damp and terrible, with evidence of what happened drowning my entire field of view. “W-What happened? It looks-”
“I shot the bastard.”
I twitched my antennae. “R-Right.” I took several breaths before finding the strength to proceed. I tried to ignore the blood marked across the walls and creeped in, though I couldn’t ignore the green smears that were on the crates. I did my best to avoid stepping on… anything, really.
The Yotul grabbed a red box full of first aid supplies and set it by his right side. He began to peel off the green-stained gauze on his paw. “I need an extra paw for this.”
“Of course. You’re Reno, right?” He ignored me. I felt a shiver spread through my carapace as he revealed the wound. “T-Those look like-”
“Yeah, I know.”
I gave him a flick of my antennae. He raised a bottle of what I assumed to be antibiotic solution, which I took. I gingerly uncapped the bottle and murmured, “This is going to sting.”
“Do you constantly state the obvious? Just get it over with.”
I took his paw in my feeler and generously poured it over the wound. He let out a small groan, but nothing more. I wiped it, then took some gauze and began wrapping it far better than he could with just a paw and a mouth. I tightened it, and sealed it with some adhesive.
“There. I-I think that’s good, but I don’t commonly work with other species.”
“I can tell.” The Yotul began to get up on their injured legs.
“A-Are you sure you should be walking?” He ignored me again. I stuck out an arm to help him. “Here, at least-”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat, slapping me away with annoyance. He shakily stood up, leaning precariously against the side of the van atop the crates.
I waved my antennae with concern. “I… Let me know if-”
“I won’t,” he coldly said, not giving me so much as a glance back as he hobbled out of the van.
I don’t blame him. The Arxur looked like he was inches away from tearing him apart. Not to mention the claw marks on his wrist… I can’t imagine what happened to him just moments ago.
I crawled out of the van after him, glad to be out, but probably not nearly as glad as him. Frankie came from around the van and dusted his hands.
“That was gross.” He turned to Reno. “You’re up already? Your legs are-”
“Worry about them when we’re in the truck. We need to get the fuck away from here.” He leaned against the van, catching his breath. He was clearly in pain, but didn’t want to show it.
“Gotcha. Luke should be—ah, right there.”
I followed his gaze, spotting the truck rolling towards us with its cracked windows and decorated doors. It stopped right beside the van. A human stepped out, the same one from the predator disease facility. He took one look at Reno, worry spreading across his face. “Holy shit.”
Reno grunted. “That’s what Frankie said.”
“I… We can talk in the truck,” Luke decided.
“Is my gun still in the building?”
“In the backseat.”
The Yotul lowered his head, letting out a breath of relief. I didn’t understand how much a simple firearm could possibly mean to him, but I wasn’t about to question him about it.
Lieutenant Holtas came to the other side of the van, whistling once he saw the crate. “Damn, this is… a lot.”
“Enough to turn the tide, I hope?” Frankie asked.
“There’s a chance it might be… If there’s anything left once we get back. Two of their bunkers are already swarming with Arxur.”
“T-Two?” I stammered. “Which ones?”
The predator shook his head dismissively. “Talk later.”
I shook my antennae in irritation, until another human then emerged from around the truck. It was the dark-skinned, dark-haired human from before as well, Dusty. Her vest had several lesions across it, far more than the few Frankie had received during his gutsiness. She wasn’t unscathed, however, as her left sleeve had been pulled up, revealing a stripe of bandaging. Her eyes regarded me with an expression I couldn't decipher, turning into a more shocked expression when they saw Reno. “...Damn.”
The Lieutenant turned to her. “Keep an eye out from where they came. Reno, do the same for the other side of the street. I’m not looking to get ambushed again.”
The two signaled their understanding. Luke’s gaze lingered a little longer on the wounded Yotul as he hobbled to retrieve his weapon from the truck.
Frankie grunted from behind me, picking up two big and bloodied crates. “Open the doors, would ya?”
I obliged, yanking open the hatches to the truck so the burly human could deposit the weapons. Luke walked past me, saw the mess in the back of the van, and shook his head while muttering something. Still, he crouched and grabbed two crates in each hand.
I couldn’t very well just stand around, so I begrudgingly walked over and picked the cleanest crates I could manage while repelling the numerous dry heaves my body wanted to conjure. I hefted them up, and followed the same path as Luke and Frankie.
I passed Dusty, who groaned, rubbing her left arm. “Why do these idiots use such a small caliber? You’d think they’d want to kill the people they’re shooting at.”
I nervously tilted my antennae. “You would… hope so.”
“They enjoy the thrill of the hunt,” Reno growled. “Use it to just incapacitate their prey. Dead ones don’t squirm while they’re eaten.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the street. As we continued to load the human armaments into the truck, the two kept a cautious set of eyes out on either side of the street. Frankie managed to fit the big gun back into its respective crate while Luke stared at it, incredulously. Dusty glanced back with a similar look, which gave me the feeling the predators were all thinking the same thing. The only one who didn’t break his focus was Reno.
The van got emptier, the truck got fuller, and soon enough we were ready to leave this place for good. Luke gave us the clear and got into the driver seat. Frankie took the front passenger seat, leaving the three of us to squeeze into the back. The windshield left a lot to be desired, and I wondered if Luke would even be able to see through it.
It was cramped, to say the least. I was forced into the side, with the Yotul in the middle, while Dusty filled in the remaining seat. From someone looking in from outside, it would be a very strange sight to behold.
She slammed the door shut. “Tight fuckin’ fit. Hope we have enough fuel.”
“Won’t be an issue,” Luke said, sending the engine revving as we began to accelerate.
Thank Formi we’re finally leaving. How long have I been awake for? How long have the Arxur been in Tepisil? And how are the exterminators from the human camp doing? There’s far too much to worry about.
I hoped Tealk was fine in the hatchery’s bunker. That is, if it wasn’t already compromised. Tepisil was given the tiny mercy of just a small warning prior to any bombs dropping. The shelters were likely packed to the brim. Just waiting for the Arxur to come.
“Frankie, give me some light, would ya?” Dusty ordered. She had pulled Reno’s hindlegs on her lap, and was now inspecting them with the help of Frankie’s flashlight. I could see the green blood that had leaked down his legs from the wounds, along with pieces of black debris.
Reno had no choice but to let Dusty tend to him. I tried my best to ignore the blood she was forcing out by ripping through the bandages, though I gagged upon seeing her dig into his flesh with a pair of tweezers, pulling out a small bullet while he hissed in pain. Those were the only noises for a time while the human used a strange syringe to push some sort of foam into the wound, then tightly wrapping his legs.
She did a better job than I ever could’ve. At this point, it shouldn’t have impressed me that the predators had a concept of medicine or even treatment for the wounded, rather than just leaving the weak for dead. The amount of care she put into someone from another species spoke volumes to the humans’ empathetic capacity.
The streetlights of the city finally receded from us. I could almost feel the weighty air in the truck lighten, like a part of the despair had been left behind in Dirlsil. It wouldn’t last for long.
At some point in the middle of all the crop fields, Frankie cleared his throat. “Can I be the one to break the silence? ‘Cause Reno shot that gray with a whole bloody anti-materiel rifle.”
“God, I’m glad somebody finally fucking said it. Point blank, too,” Dusty said.
The Yotul didn’t offer a response, only stared off into the distance. I felt nothing but sympathy for him. They meant well, but I suspected they did more harm than good. The humans clearly had no idea what he’d just gone through; the fear, the uncertainty, the possibility of being eaten alive. I had a feeling the only reason he was alive was because of his quick thinking, the Arxur’s cockiness, and luck.
Luke cleared his throat. “Uh, how did you fare, Frankie? I saw the marks on your vest.”
My human grunted. “Barely even felt them hit me. Once the shooting started we dove back into the toy shop. Arxur are damn cocky bastards, but I don’t reckon they’re used to whatever they’re chasing fighting back so hard. Shot one, ran up the stairs, shot the other. Easy as that.”
It was not, in fact, as easy as that. I was terrified the entire time. It was Frankie who did everything, and even then, he screamed and shouted during the entire encounter. He was fearless in the face of fear while I had been useless. Again. My only saving grace was that I didn’t freeze like I did at the PD facility, even if that meant I merely ran instead. I felt a stab of anger mixed with regret, an entirely unwelcome feeling that I decidedly earned.
I can’t rely on the Terrans forever. At some point, my uncontrollable fear is going to cost lives. I… I can’t let fear be the driver.
“We had four of the fuckers on us,” Dusty said. “Retreated into the store opposite yours. We were doing just fine ‘till one of them tossed a grenade.”
I felt Reno tense up to me. He had a thousand-lightyear stare.
“Then they came in after us, separated us from Reno. They were fucking relentless, didn’t give us a chance to fight. Forced us all the way back into the stockroom, then kept pushing their luck. Finally had a corner, then the bastards leapt forward rather than being smart, getting me tagged. Hurts like hell just thinking about flexing the muscle.”
“God, can we change the subject? I regret asking,” Lieutenant Holtas said, shifting uncomfortably. “Frankie, you want to try again with the UN? And Herq, now that you’re with us, can you contact Von and inform him of what happened?”
I almost flinched when he said my name. “Y-Yeah, of course.” I started to pull out my holopad. I hovered over Tealk’s contact before moving to Von’s. I tapped the icon, and it rang for only a second before he picked up.
“Herq?”
I pulled the pad closer, overhearing Frankie start his own call to the UN. “Yes, it’s me. We made it out of Dirlsil with the weapons, and we’re in one piece.”
“Formi is that good to hear. I won't sugarcoat it, things have gotten much worse. You may have heard it from the humans, but cattle shuttles just landed around Bunker Four… which has no one to defend it. Bunker Six had contact and they are at a stalemate, but won't stay that way. I… sincerely hope you brought lots of ammo.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I can’t say for certain what the predators brought with us… We’re driving as fast as we can, we expect to be there in forty minutes.”
“Too long… The grays are already going into buildings, trying to flush them out. We don’t have the firepower.”
“I… We need a rally point in order to distribute them as fast as possible.”
“One advantage is that they aren’t using their numbers prowling the empty buildings on the outskirts… Shit, Polle is calling me… It’s about Bunker Six. Listen, I’ll send you more information when I can. Call me ten minutes before you reach the city.”
“Yes, of course. Please, stay safe.”
“We both know that isn’t going to happen. Hurry.”
A tone signified he hung up the call. I tentatively swirled my antennae, seeing my company look away. “I-I’m guessing everyone heard that?”
Reno flicked his ears, and the humans nodded from the front seats. A steady silence came over us. It was probably well into the early hours of the morning at this point. My body was tired, and my mind more so. I knew well that I should have been more scared or worried, but I simply didn’t have the energy. It was like Frankie said earlier.
“Who wants a granola bar?” Frankie abruptly barked.
Luke shrugged. “I mean…”
The two humans accepted his offer, not like they had much choice since they were already being distributed. A bar was put into Reno’s paws, and suddenly, I was holding one too.
“It… doesn’t have meat, does it?” I asked.
“No, you idiot. I don’t eat meat,” Reno hissed, unwrapping his food.
“Sorry… I just wanted-”
“It’s just a bar of sugary grain. You’d think you would know by now that humans aren’t going to hurt you, or do anything else ‘predatory.’” He said the last word with distaste, like it personally offended him. He was clearly more used to the primates than I was, or ever could be. I knew they wouldn’t mean me any harm, but it was hard to shake off the thoughts that always lingered in my mind when around predators.
I thought his behavior was simply fried nerves from his close call with the Arxur, but there was something more to it, something bitter in his tone that hinted at more than just the last encounter. It reminded me of hearing about his outburst at my sister, Tealk, back at the hatchery. It didn’t sit right with me, but I wasn’t in any position to ask him about it, especially not at that moment.
Dusty was already stuffing the bar into her mouth, not much caring for how revolting I found it. I’d gotten used to their toothy smiles, but seeing her take a bite, just like she would chow down on a piece of bloody meat… If I wasn’t so hungry after so many hours, I would’ve lost my appetite.
Reno bit into the bar, and I carefully unwrapped mine, ignoring the female’s sickening mouth movements. I gave a cautionary sniff before taking a small nibble. It was acceptable, even good considering I hadn’t eaten for so long. I took another bite, then another, and then I noticed Dusty looking at me.
I couldn’t help the way my muscles tensed in agitation. She was instinctively sizing me up, now that food was on her mind. “W-What is it?” I stuttered.
She raised her eyebrows, glancing away. “Nothing. Just the way you move your hands, er… tarsals? Tarsals, across your mandibles when you eat. It’s… nevermind.”
My… tarsals? I flexed a feeler, inspecting it like something was wrong with it. I looked back at the predator, who was now looking out the window. At least she wasn’t… staring at me anymore. Humans got stranger every moment I spent with them. I thought there was a glimmer of hope that they wouldn’t all be as strange as Frankie, but that clearly had yet to be proven.
I took another small bite. Before I knew it, I had eaten the whole thing and had nothing left to occupy the time. There were only dark crop fields outside our truck, and predators or the predator-diseased inside. Nothing to distract me from the knowledge that Sillis was going to fall. Nothing to distract me from the thoughts telling me to give up, to run away, like a coward.
A muted atmosphere of haunting tranquility came over our vehicle, one that everyone silently and willfully acknowledged. We all knew what we were driving towards.
—
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Thanks to u/WCR_706 for proofreading. And, of course, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe.
2024.05.15 15:15 nobodysgeese A Bond Decision
Originally for SEUS: Mad Libs XIII
Argent Silvertoe cycled through the monitors, making sure that the cameras had a view of every inch on his volcanic lair. It wouldn't do to miss the big moment, whichever trap it was that finally got her.
Behind him, his butler said, "Sir, I really must protest this plan. I could fetch your rifle from the safe and you could shoot her the moment she disembarked onto the island. It would be effective, and swift enough that you would be done in time for dinner, to enjoy your victorious whiskey in peace."
"I could, Aiden," Silvertoe agreed, turning in his chair to face him. "But what good would that do?"
"Sir?"
"Do you remember the plane?"
The butler leveled a glare at Silvertoe, which he ignored. "Yes, I do. I clearly remember Miss Tie defenestrating you mid-flight."
"Exactly!" Silvertoe exclaimed. "And of course there was that time in Berlin. Bad enough to drop a building on someone, but did she have to use my own building to add insult to injury?"
Aiden sighed. "Sir, I still fail to see why any of this means you can't simply shoot her. Indeed, it seems killing her quickly, and more importantly at range, ought to be the goal."
"It's the disrespect!" Silvertoe gestured vaguely. "I can shoot anyone. But when someone has burned down your arsonist robots, or axed your deforestation operation, their death requires a more... personal touch. One with as much irony as Agent Tie has inflicted on me."
A look of defeated enlightenment crossed Aiden's face, as if he'd figured out some mystery and been deeply disappointed by what he found. "Ah. That is why so many of these... contraptions have ropes."
"Yes! I'm going to-"
"Tie up Miss Tie. Yes sir, I understood."
"It's brilliant! It's ironic! It's a worthy end to my most persistent foe. And the pit of serpents is close enough to ropes to count! The piranhas aren't thematically appropriate, I'll admit, but they were on discount."
The butler cleared his throat. "Alternatively, you could tie her up after you shoot her."
"Aiden, where's your sense of artistry?"
"Sir, your connivances never succeed. I know this is your preferred pastime, but I fear that you indulge in sweet temptation for a cost."
Silvertoe spun back to his monitors. "Never mind, she's here!"
A figure came into view of the entrance's camera, and Silvertoe leaned forward. His voice boomed from the speakers scattered throughout the volcanic tunnels. "Tie. Bo Tie." The figure leapt and looked around, and Silvertoe cackled. "I congratulate you on finding my lair, but I won't be so easy to capture. I'm hidden deep inside, and you'll never get past my traps!"
His butler was polite enough to wait for him to turn off the sound before speaking. "Sir, please, at least let me bring your guns here, so you can shoot her when- if she gets past the traps."
"My traps never fail!"
Aiden lifted an incredulous eyebrow, and Silvertoe suddenly found the monitors fascinating again. "Now, let's see which trap she's heading toward first. She's nearing the crossroads, and she's going to pick the- What?"
Silvertoe almost climbed out of his chair to peer more closely at the screen. "Is that... cake?"
"Yes sir, with a selection of hors d'ourves."
Slowly, Silvertoe nodded. "Respectable. I'm glad to see you taking an interest in the villainous side of things. I wouldn't have personally picked poison, but-."
"No sir, they are not poisoned." For the first time in the twenty years Silvertoe had known Aiden, he dropped his formal mask to massage his temples. "I just felt a certain comradeship with Miss Tie. Dealing with the traps from the other side, as it were."
Silvertoe paused. "...Fair, I suppose. I guess this has been more stressful for you than I thought. Tell you what, after I've done away with Bo Tie, I promise I'll shoot the next victim."
"Thank you, sir. Much appreciated."
Silvertoe raised a finger to silence him and turned up the volume. Agent Tie was still looking at the table of assorted snacks, and the microphone could just barely pick up her whisper. "Why am I afraid to eat this slice of cake? Better safe than sorry."
She tipped the table over. The cake splattered. The deviled eggs rolled away. The bruschetta bites wobbled to a stop like coins carelessly cast to the floor. Agent Tie's boot heel ground the cake further to mush as she moved into the lair, and Silvertoe winced, chancing a glance to see how his butler would take this culinary heresy.
Aiden stood straight and blank-faced as his work was defiled, but his eye was twitching. After a long pause, he said, "Please do shoot the next foe, sir. But drop this one into the volcano."
submitted by nobodysgeese to NobodysGaggle [link] [comments]
Argent Silvertoe cycled through the monitors, making sure that the cameras had a view of every inch on his volcanic lair. It wouldn't do to miss the big moment, whichever trap it was that finally got her.
Behind him, his butler said, "Sir, I really must protest this plan. I could fetch your rifle from the safe and you could shoot her the moment she disembarked onto the island. It would be effective, and swift enough that you would be done in time for dinner, to enjoy your victorious whiskey in peace."
"I could, Aiden," Silvertoe agreed, turning in his chair to face him. "But what good would that do?"
"Sir?"
"Do you remember the plane?"
The butler leveled a glare at Silvertoe, which he ignored. "Yes, I do. I clearly remember Miss Tie defenestrating you mid-flight."
"Exactly!" Silvertoe exclaimed. "And of course there was that time in Berlin. Bad enough to drop a building on someone, but did she have to use my own building to add insult to injury?"
Aiden sighed. "Sir, I still fail to see why any of this means you can't simply shoot her. Indeed, it seems killing her quickly, and more importantly at range, ought to be the goal."
"It's the disrespect!" Silvertoe gestured vaguely. "I can shoot anyone. But when someone has burned down your arsonist robots, or axed your deforestation operation, their death requires a more... personal touch. One with as much irony as Agent Tie has inflicted on me."
A look of defeated enlightenment crossed Aiden's face, as if he'd figured out some mystery and been deeply disappointed by what he found. "Ah. That is why so many of these... contraptions have ropes."
"Yes! I'm going to-"
"Tie up Miss Tie. Yes sir, I understood."
"It's brilliant! It's ironic! It's a worthy end to my most persistent foe. And the pit of serpents is close enough to ropes to count! The piranhas aren't thematically appropriate, I'll admit, but they were on discount."
The butler cleared his throat. "Alternatively, you could tie her up after you shoot her."
"Aiden, where's your sense of artistry?"
"Sir, your connivances never succeed. I know this is your preferred pastime, but I fear that you indulge in sweet temptation for a cost."
Silvertoe spun back to his monitors. "Never mind, she's here!"
A figure came into view of the entrance's camera, and Silvertoe leaned forward. His voice boomed from the speakers scattered throughout the volcanic tunnels. "Tie. Bo Tie." The figure leapt and looked around, and Silvertoe cackled. "I congratulate you on finding my lair, but I won't be so easy to capture. I'm hidden deep inside, and you'll never get past my traps!"
His butler was polite enough to wait for him to turn off the sound before speaking. "Sir, please, at least let me bring your guns here, so you can shoot her when- if she gets past the traps."
"My traps never fail!"
Aiden lifted an incredulous eyebrow, and Silvertoe suddenly found the monitors fascinating again. "Now, let's see which trap she's heading toward first. She's nearing the crossroads, and she's going to pick the- What?"
Silvertoe almost climbed out of his chair to peer more closely at the screen. "Is that... cake?"
"Yes sir, with a selection of hors d'ourves."
Slowly, Silvertoe nodded. "Respectable. I'm glad to see you taking an interest in the villainous side of things. I wouldn't have personally picked poison, but-."
"No sir, they are not poisoned." For the first time in the twenty years Silvertoe had known Aiden, he dropped his formal mask to massage his temples. "I just felt a certain comradeship with Miss Tie. Dealing with the traps from the other side, as it were."
Silvertoe paused. "...Fair, I suppose. I guess this has been more stressful for you than I thought. Tell you what, after I've done away with Bo Tie, I promise I'll shoot the next victim."
"Thank you, sir. Much appreciated."
Silvertoe raised a finger to silence him and turned up the volume. Agent Tie was still looking at the table of assorted snacks, and the microphone could just barely pick up her whisper. "Why am I afraid to eat this slice of cake? Better safe than sorry."
She tipped the table over. The cake splattered. The deviled eggs rolled away. The bruschetta bites wobbled to a stop like coins carelessly cast to the floor. Agent Tie's boot heel ground the cake further to mush as she moved into the lair, and Silvertoe winced, chancing a glance to see how his butler would take this culinary heresy.
Aiden stood straight and blank-faced as his work was defiled, but his eye was twitching. After a long pause, he said, "Please do shoot the next foe, sir. But drop this one into the volcano."
2024.05.15 14:12 LieutenantNurse-71 Making a build solely around Last Word, need some help.
So Ive put down sunshot to fuck around with the last word for the past month. I used to run lucky pants but dropped it for Speedloader slacks as my build solely relies on dodging and buffing Las Word as much as possible. Tight Fit stacks, 2 kinetic surge mods, and a kinetic targeting mod make the gun really solid to use.! The main issue is Last words pathetic range. I dont have a solar hand cannon (nor am i good enough to get any of the top solar hc,s) so i have to rely on an arc hc for anything thats not point blank. Is there ANY way to buff the range stat.
submitted by LieutenantNurse-71 to destiny2 [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 13:55 Present_Bandicoot802 brawl talk but honest
disclaimer: plz dont harrass the devs
hello guys , its your good old friend dani, bringing u another set of updates which u guys would definitely love
lets start by talking about mutations, which only 40 brawlers have cuz we are too tired and lazy to give everyone mutations
anyways , these little mutations can be obtained by eggs, and some of them are absolute sh##(grom,leon,pam) because again, we r just too tired and lazy to do the job .
some mutations include firing twice and others make the brawler fire up to 3 times the projectiles such angelo and meg , how innovative.
some mutations will also turn the battlefield to an absolute chaotic undertale boss fight (rico,ruffs,stu) becuz again, F balancing.
also we r introducing 2 lame brawlers
first we have lily, who is basically a brawler that fights people with ender pearls and a dagger, this time, we decide to not make her overtuned and overpowered (we absolutely regret that decision ) and since we r running out of ideas, we decide to tune cordelius's super into a gadget just like we did to otis and leon
second we have draco ,who feels like a brawler created by writing random ideas on a bunch of cards ,shuffle them and picking them blindfolded,and eventually putting the picked ones altogether
this brawler has a very nasty attitude and the weakest main attack known to date, it litterally does the dmg of a tick mine unless ur at the tip of the attack,( despite being a tank brawler)
for super, he rides his dragon , gets increased defence and speed, and breathes out fire like a pam and amber combined. btw his star power is called expose and gadget called uppercut, which feels like something he will do to piper every time he sees her (lolololol )
for balance updates, i think we did a pretty good job ,we nerfed nani into the shadow realm becuz her shots are too easy to hit and it does 4.8k dmg with every single shot ,we also gave piper a 13% dmg nerf......
at point blank range ,so that we can make people feel like she got a massive nerf, and thus hide the fact that piper can use her gadget and do 2k hp of dmg still from 4 tiles away . the reason is because our boy adrian wants rank 30 piper soooo bad but always gets defeated by nani, so he decides to excute this laser gunning security camera who always one shots people so that he can play her without hinderance .
apparently he is a piper simp.
we also decided to make hank heal when using super because its super is super easy to get ,
also, isnt it funny how a sniper( angelo) can have very fast speed while a tank like hank is only normal?we nerfed his poison dmg just so that people will stop complaining about being one shotted. we wish u a happy mutation
submitted by Present_Bandicoot802 to Brawlstars [link] [comments]
hello guys , its your good old friend dani, bringing u another set of updates which u guys would definitely love
lets start by talking about mutations, which only 40 brawlers have cuz we are too tired and lazy to give everyone mutations
anyways , these little mutations can be obtained by eggs, and some of them are absolute sh##(grom,leon,pam) because again, we r just too tired and lazy to do the job .
some mutations include firing twice and others make the brawler fire up to 3 times the projectiles such angelo and meg , how innovative.
some mutations will also turn the battlefield to an absolute chaotic undertale boss fight (rico,ruffs,stu) becuz again, F balancing.
also we r introducing 2 lame brawlers
first we have lily, who is basically a brawler that fights people with ender pearls and a dagger, this time, we decide to not make her overtuned and overpowered (we absolutely regret that decision ) and since we r running out of ideas, we decide to tune cordelius's super into a gadget just like we did to otis and leon
second we have draco ,who feels like a brawler created by writing random ideas on a bunch of cards ,shuffle them and picking them blindfolded,and eventually putting the picked ones altogether
this brawler has a very nasty attitude and the weakest main attack known to date, it litterally does the dmg of a tick mine unless ur at the tip of the attack,( despite being a tank brawler)
for super, he rides his dragon , gets increased defence and speed, and breathes out fire like a pam and amber combined. btw his star power is called expose and gadget called uppercut, which feels like something he will do to piper every time he sees her (lolololol )
for balance updates, i think we did a pretty good job ,we nerfed nani into the shadow realm becuz her shots are too easy to hit and it does 4.8k dmg with every single shot ,we also gave piper a 13% dmg nerf......
at point blank range ,so that we can make people feel like she got a massive nerf, and thus hide the fact that piper can use her gadget and do 2k hp of dmg still from 4 tiles away . the reason is because our boy adrian wants rank 30 piper soooo bad but always gets defeated by nani, so he decides to excute this laser gunning security camera who always one shots people so that he can play her without hinderance .
apparently he is a piper simp.
we also decided to make hank heal when using super because its super is super easy to get ,
also, isnt it funny how a sniper( angelo) can have very fast speed while a tank like hank is only normal?we nerfed his poison dmg just so that people will stop complaining about being one shotted. we wish u a happy mutation