Thursday, December 12, 2013
Prelude #6 - Sundown Parity 4:1 - Redeux
Parity 4:1 2009/Seven years from !#@@$#@W$HATE#$@#WQFEAR#!#@!@ENTROPY$@#!!@!@!#!#$HISSHADOWKNOWS@!*#@#(%R!@$!#@!@
The calculations had to be checked and rechecked. If the
SPANWEB transmissions were correct, and the Cross chronal scanner was right,
then a massive tachyon burst had not only occurred, but had disrupted the
time/space continuum for a nanosecond, actually puncturing each point at once.
With that sort of information, she felt obliged to run a comparison against the findings. Such things were not possible: Two points opening and closing at the same time could only mean one thing: At some point in the real future, a door had opened, and at some point at the real past, the door had opened again. Could it be possible that chronapthy was real? That time travel between two set points was a reality only a scant ten years in the future?
The idea that within her current lifetime that time travel wasn't just a possibility, but a reality was a bit flustering, especially since at some point in the future, she herself would be the one to perfect it. It was a myriad of ideas contained in a single thought: That outside of her knowledge, someone had perfected a device for time travel and had used it to escape the past.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose, when a cup was set down next to her. At first, she did not notice, until the rich smell of chamomile and mint caught her attention, turning slightly, she looked up, and saw herself...older...but herself none the less.
'You'll go mad trying to figure out what just happened' the older self answered, 'And believe me, I nearly did'
'How...' She began, stopping slightly to take up the cup and take a quick sip, 'How is it you're here'
The older version smiled, 'It's rather simple at the endpoint to venture back, but this....this is different....someone has upset the balance a second time'
'A second time?' she asked. The idea of her older self standing here hadn't phased her...in fact, it was a comfort in many ways, a secret visitation that had begun a decade previously, guiding her to different paths.
'A second time...and I fear that it will affect everything'
'More than it already has?' she answered, 'I mean, can true time-travel be real, outside of us?'
'Cross was close' the older version stated, 'In fact, he's the one that breaks the idea of the-'
'Yes' The younger version said, 'I know what he did....and I know that he's more obsessed than ever'
'Yes...but that's not why I'm here now' the older version began 'At some point within the next ten years, someone will use Cross's Golden Snitch to go back to the point of the first anomaly'
'And?' the younger version asked
'Well...whomever that is, they'll attempt to change what's coming...and I fear hasten it'
'Seven years ago...' the younger version said, mulling over the words while looking into the cup, 'That would be about the time of...'
'Yes' the older version, 'It puts it right then....and I fear that if whomever is successful, a cascading effect will occur across the continuum.'
'Is that a bad thing, considering?'
'It isn't the proper course of action' The older version said, 'We of all people should understand that certain events are immutable'
'Yes...but all the mucking with the universe and paradoxes the last three decades would suggest it's a moot point' the younger version said, taking the cup and drinking deeply, 'Ginger mint?'
'It's an acquired taste....one you should start now since it's one of my favorites'
The younger one nodded, stirring the cup with the small spoon before replacing it to the saucer. 'Any idea as to who?'
'The devil' was all the woman said, 'And the devil is trying hard to change the past'
'The devil...Mr Mephisto? That TAROT girl? Which one?'
'The one who has the most to gain....and the most lose.' The older version said cryptically.
'That's helpful...but why then?'
'It was during the schism' the older version nodded, 'It was at the darkest hour for the Crusaders'
'You'll have to be more specific...although....I think I know what you mean'
'The time when the Crusaders lost'
The younger version, still fresh from the scars of that time only a decade ago, nodded quietly.
'That pain never leaves' the older version said, 'It will lessen, but it does not leave'
'Is what he's attempting a bad thing?' The younger one added, 'I mean, certainly, we're safer...but...'
'It's a bad thing when you realize that the hand to make the change isn't thinking' the older countered, 'And that if *he* gets the device...'
'Then we should do something' the younger answered.
'We already have...' the older said, donning a helmet, 'As I'm headed to you now...or have you forgotten'
The younger version stopped, considering a moment and sifting through a universe of memories until the events were recalled with clarity...but were uncharacteristically hazy..
'That time...is difficult to remember'
'Yes...' The older nodded, 'It's beginning...'
'The road to hell is paved with good intentions' the older Snow said, bringing up the digital holographic display, 'And hell is coming'
With that sort of information, she felt obliged to run a comparison against the findings. Such things were not possible: Two points opening and closing at the same time could only mean one thing: At some point in the real future, a door had opened, and at some point at the real past, the door had opened again. Could it be possible that chronapthy was real? That time travel between two set points was a reality only a scant ten years in the future?
The idea that within her current lifetime that time travel wasn't just a possibility, but a reality was a bit flustering, especially since at some point in the future, she herself would be the one to perfect it. It was a myriad of ideas contained in a single thought: That outside of her knowledge, someone had perfected a device for time travel and had used it to escape the past.
She rubbed the bridge of her nose, when a cup was set down next to her. At first, she did not notice, until the rich smell of chamomile and mint caught her attention, turning slightly, she looked up, and saw herself...older...but herself none the less.
'You'll go mad trying to figure out what just happened' the older self answered, 'And believe me, I nearly did'
'How...' She began, stopping slightly to take up the cup and take a quick sip, 'How is it you're here'
The older version smiled, 'It's rather simple at the endpoint to venture back, but this....this is different....someone has upset the balance a second time'
'A second time?' she asked. The idea of her older self standing here hadn't phased her...in fact, it was a comfort in many ways, a secret visitation that had begun a decade previously, guiding her to different paths.
'A second time...and I fear that it will affect everything'
'More than it already has?' she answered, 'I mean, can true time-travel be real, outside of us?'
'Cross was close' the older version stated, 'In fact, he's the one that breaks the idea of the-'
'Yes' The younger version said, 'I know what he did....and I know that he's more obsessed than ever'
'Yes...but that's not why I'm here now' the older version began 'At some point within the next ten years, someone will use Cross's Golden Snitch to go back to the point of the first anomaly'
'And?' the younger version asked
'Well...whomever that is, they'll attempt to change what's coming...and I fear hasten it'
'Seven years ago...' the younger version said, mulling over the words while looking into the cup, 'That would be about the time of...'
'Yes' the older version, 'It puts it right then....and I fear that if whomever is successful, a cascading effect will occur across the continuum.'
'Is that a bad thing, considering?'
'It isn't the proper course of action' The older version said, 'We of all people should understand that certain events are immutable'
'Yes...but all the mucking with the universe and paradoxes the last three decades would suggest it's a moot point' the younger version said, taking the cup and drinking deeply, 'Ginger mint?'
'It's an acquired taste....one you should start now since it's one of my favorites'
The younger one nodded, stirring the cup with the small spoon before replacing it to the saucer. 'Any idea as to who?'
'The devil' was all the woman said, 'And the devil is trying hard to change the past'
'The devil...Mr Mephisto? That TAROT girl? Which one?'
'The one who has the most to gain....and the most lose.' The older version said cryptically.
'That's helpful...but why then?'
'It was during the schism' the older version nodded, 'It was at the darkest hour for the Crusaders'
'You'll have to be more specific...although....I think I know what you mean'
'The time when the Crusaders lost'
The younger version, still fresh from the scars of that time only a decade ago, nodded quietly.
'That pain never leaves' the older version said, 'It will lessen, but it does not leave'
'Is what he's attempting a bad thing?' The younger one added, 'I mean, certainly, we're safer...but...'
'It's a bad thing when you realize that the hand to make the change isn't thinking' the older countered, 'And that if *he* gets the device...'
'Then we should do something' the younger answered.
'We already have...' the older said, donning a helmet, 'As I'm headed to you now...or have you forgotten'
The younger version stopped, considering a moment and sifting through a universe of memories until the events were recalled with clarity...but were uncharacteristically hazy..
'That time...is difficult to remember'
'Yes...' The older nodded, 'It's beginning...'
'The road to hell is paved with good intentions' the older Snow said, bringing up the digital holographic display, 'And hell is coming'
@#(*@$@&@#@!#BREAKTIMELINEERRORSHADOWECLIPSE#!#!@!@!@$)#(T^%&#$
There was supposed to be a flash of light…an exit in graceful silence from the older version of Snow White into the temporal fugue maintained in a perfect suspension, but nothing happened. Both Snow Whites looked at each other, trying to figure out what had happened. Suddenly, it was as if time had simply ceased for the two of them, and the momentary lapse in timelines had caught them both off-guard. For a moment, neither could react to the situation, it simply had never occurred to either of them.
‘There has been a break in the timeline’ The older Snow
began, staring off with glowing azure eyes. Young Snow simply nodded, and for a
long moment, said nothing as she attempted parity with her older counterpart.
The transfer of information covered the span of seconds. Younger Snow looked
about, confused and overwhelmed. The images and lifetimes of her older
counterpart revealed a history that was still just a momentary glimpse. While
it was 2009, it was at the same time 2014 and 2019. Snow feel the connection of
a million digital voice screaming at her from the far away future, and she
could feel the burning crimson waves washing over the continuum at the
beginning and the end of time.
‘Someone has vastly changed the timeline’ Older Snow
started, trying in that way that Younger Snow often exhibited in figuring out
the problem. Older Snow began to breath harder, as if effort was being made to simply
stand. Young Snow saw fatigue and worry play across her older face, and for a
moment, she felt that same fear begin to creep into her thoughts. For a moment,
Young Snow felt she should alert the Crusaders, to let them know what was going
on…but Young Snow could not understand what was happening. Older Snow cried out
in sudden shock and pain, falling to her knees as the Time Tyrant armor cracked
and fell away. Red light issues from seemingly every pore, and Young Snow felt
the forceful disconnection from the digital voices as the future was being
wrenched away.
‘R-R-Remember’ Older Snow began, her face burning hot with
red light, ‘R-R-Remember the D-D-Devou----‘
And like that, Older Snow burst into a million points of
reddish light. Young Snow shielded her eyes, turning away as the shadow of her
former self became etched into the floor of the Crusaders conference room. For
a moment, there was nothing in Snow’s world but the red light, the terrible red
light that wasn’t just light…it wasn’t just anything. The ancient code began to
filter into her mind, and she remembered fragments, long since purposely
forgotten playing across her casual memory. Snow cried out, feeling the awful
crimson maw of the beast close around her, the terrible heat that bore down
from a single purpose and single mind. In that moment, Snow relieved all of her
failures, all of her frailty in terrible scarlet clarity. There was something
more to the light as it forcibly tore into her very being, reducing Snow’s
memories to the basic elements of angelic code. The memories of her new life
quickly burned in the entropic stillness of *his* gaze.
Snow was Eclipsed.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Prelude #5 - CO Gamma Redeux
The sound was deafening, shaking and shattering buildings and foundations from downtown to the bay. It was clear the beast was in its last legs, the weight of the sea-beast slowly buckling its stumpy legs. With a final roar, the creature shuddered and then fell to the ground, sending shockwaves across the city.
"That was...difficult' Solarion added, looking at the fallen form of Gakiza, slowly wiping sweat from his brow. The city had suffered from the rampage, from the Eastern points of Central Park where Gakiza had carved a new river to the Sentinel headquarters. Now, at long last, the terror from 50,000 fathoms had been stopped.
Solarion landed, looking at the Mistress of Might, Heraclea. Heraclea, the daughter of Hercules stood on the back of the beast, pulling massive cables around to secure Gakiza, and assist in the removal.
Solarion was reaching towards his communicator to signal the rest of the Sentinels about downgrading the emergency alert, when the skies seemed to shimmer, cascading into a brilliant flash of light. The light itself seemed to be of the most vibrant purple he'd ever seen, followed by an almost cascade of indigo. Long shadows fell over the city, as the Blurr moved up to Solarion's side.
"Whatinthehell?' The Blur started quickly, moving everywhere at once, 'Whatnow?'
Solarion gazed skyward, his eyes focusing into the spectrums of energy not often seen by the methods of detection available to normal technology. After a moment, he turned back to the Blurr, 'I've no idea...it doesn't match anything I'm familiar with...almost...a lack of anything'
The Blurr touched the side of his cowl, moving with an inhuman speed that none save mighty Solarion could see. 'MultiplereportsofaccidentsandproblemsstillduetoGakizaneedtogo'
With that, the Blur took off in a blink, and Solarion remained hovering close to the ground, actually shielding his eyes as if it would give him a better vantage to see. Staring hard upwards into the darkening sky, Solarion thought he made out several figures beginning to emerge from the shadows. In a moment, Solarion realized what they were....satellites...space debris...and large asteroids, falling as if pulled from the heavens. Immediately heading upwards, Solarion tried to cast his empyrean beams to stop the majority of impacts, but reports coming over his com-unit immediately let him know this was not a localized event. How could these things happen? The Bulwark defense system was to prevent such things, and now…
The blast took him by surprise as he felt himself spiral downwards. Expecting it to be Shadower taking advantage of the catastrophe, he was surprised when it was someone that hadn't registered on his spectrum senses....a figure that even the GAIA communications system had not picked up. Recovering quickly, he ran the image through the SAFEGUARD database, and was surprised to see it come up empty. Solarion quickly returned fire, and the battle over New York was quick and decisive, with Solarion managing the smallest of victories.
As Solarion tried to make sense, he could see the massive machine fall into place, and felt the very energies he powered himself with begin to drain away. At that moment, a flash of light struck him, and he felt...nothing. His last thoughts were questions...who were these people...what did they want, and why did so many innocents have to d---
The world warped and twisted, as if reality itself began to unravel in front of Solarion. The white-hot energy that had felled him ceased, replaced now with a twisting sensation that seemed to pull Solarion apart and remake him in one fell swoop. Solarion screamed in agony as the reddish light cascaded around him, and he became faintly aware of the city, smoking from Gakiza’s massive attack alight with a ruby haze. The smell of brimstone was matched with power gray ash that fell around the World’s Strongest Superhuman. Solarion could feel an acrid coldness as he started upwards, unbelieving for a long moment as the sun, the source of his power and life on all earth, turn from its familiar yellow to a shadowy blue – an eclipse that showed no climax or passage.
Feeling his own strength ebb away, Solarion stood for a moment, before launching himself upwards once again. The city wasn’t just reeling – It was decimated, bleached by ash and debris that had rendered even Sentinel Stronghold a smoking crater of what it was once. Somewhere in the back of Solarion’s mind, he could recall the genetic memory of his once proud home world, the last moments of his father and mother as they secured him amid the destruction of his sub-dimensional world. Although he could not have understood what was happening, Solarion felt the empathic sense of fear and loss that sent tremors of terrible sadness through his mother’s arms and shone in his father’s eyes. That moment of utter desolation had been the defining moment in which a lifetime of battling for truth and justice had been built, and he was feeling the terrible brunt of that emotion again. Solarion was shaking, trembling as if he felt the intense cold that normally he would shrug off. There was a purpose in the madness he now faced: An odd out-of-place feeling that made him question the very fabric of his world. Solarion fought against the weakness building within him, flying upwards, gaining speed as he moved, hoping to break atmosphere and whatever was distorting the sun.
For a moment, Solarion felt the rush of the outer atmosphere, and he stared, unbelieving, at the sight that greeted him. The non-Euclidian shape of the craft defied his ability to understand it. The craft, for what else could it be, simply could not exist, and yet, there it was, hovering like a grimly silent warden above the Earth. Solarion closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the coldness of space, the harshly silent vacuum that revealed nothing more. Solarion opened his eyes, and flew directly at what he determined the center of the ship to be. Building up space, Solarion flew faster than he had ever pushed himself, fighting back the strain and weakness, moving against a terrible force which threatened to end him. There was progress, and in that moment, Solarion felt the vestiges of hope swell within him.
A center spot ahead seemingly appeared out of the blackness, a red light that seemed to build into intensity, as if a beam has somehow been fired, but was not racing the speed of light. The beam arced with a slow and methodic deliberateness to it, and then almost seemed to stop – suspended in mid-air against the laws of time, space, and reality. Suddenly the beam flared forward, racing with a speed that even the superhuman speedster Blur would be unable to dodge. The red light engulfed Solarion, and in that moment, the sense of hope and possibility of success died. Solarion felt himself cry out, not just for himself, but for the billions he had failed. Hope deserted him, hemorrhaging from his heart, soul, and spirit. Solarion saw his father looking at him as the red whispers crept into his very being. There was no strength simply left to Solarion, as the light intensified, consuming everything in a crimson inferno.
Solarion was Eclipsed.
"That was...difficult' Solarion added, looking at the fallen form of Gakiza, slowly wiping sweat from his brow. The city had suffered from the rampage, from the Eastern points of Central Park where Gakiza had carved a new river to the Sentinel headquarters. Now, at long last, the terror from 50,000 fathoms had been stopped.
Solarion landed, looking at the Mistress of Might, Heraclea. Heraclea, the daughter of Hercules stood on the back of the beast, pulling massive cables around to secure Gakiza, and assist in the removal.
Solarion was reaching towards his communicator to signal the rest of the Sentinels about downgrading the emergency alert, when the skies seemed to shimmer, cascading into a brilliant flash of light. The light itself seemed to be of the most vibrant purple he'd ever seen, followed by an almost cascade of indigo. Long shadows fell over the city, as the Blurr moved up to Solarion's side.
"Whatinthehell?' The Blur started quickly, moving everywhere at once, 'Whatnow?'
Solarion gazed skyward, his eyes focusing into the spectrums of energy not often seen by the methods of detection available to normal technology. After a moment, he turned back to the Blurr, 'I've no idea...it doesn't match anything I'm familiar with...almost...a lack of anything'
The Blurr touched the side of his cowl, moving with an inhuman speed that none save mighty Solarion could see. 'MultiplereportsofaccidentsandproblemsstillduetoGakizaneedtogo'
With that, the Blur took off in a blink, and Solarion remained hovering close to the ground, actually shielding his eyes as if it would give him a better vantage to see. Staring hard upwards into the darkening sky, Solarion thought he made out several figures beginning to emerge from the shadows. In a moment, Solarion realized what they were....satellites...space debris...and large asteroids, falling as if pulled from the heavens. Immediately heading upwards, Solarion tried to cast his empyrean beams to stop the majority of impacts, but reports coming over his com-unit immediately let him know this was not a localized event. How could these things happen? The Bulwark defense system was to prevent such things, and now…
The blast took him by surprise as he felt himself spiral downwards. Expecting it to be Shadower taking advantage of the catastrophe, he was surprised when it was someone that hadn't registered on his spectrum senses....a figure that even the GAIA communications system had not picked up. Recovering quickly, he ran the image through the SAFEGUARD database, and was surprised to see it come up empty. Solarion quickly returned fire, and the battle over New York was quick and decisive, with Solarion managing the smallest of victories.
As Solarion tried to make sense, he could see the massive machine fall into place, and felt the very energies he powered himself with begin to drain away. At that moment, a flash of light struck him, and he felt...nothing. His last thoughts were questions...who were these people...what did they want, and why did so many innocents have to d---
The world warped and twisted, as if reality itself began to unravel in front of Solarion. The white-hot energy that had felled him ceased, replaced now with a twisting sensation that seemed to pull Solarion apart and remake him in one fell swoop. Solarion screamed in agony as the reddish light cascaded around him, and he became faintly aware of the city, smoking from Gakiza’s massive attack alight with a ruby haze. The smell of brimstone was matched with power gray ash that fell around the World’s Strongest Superhuman. Solarion could feel an acrid coldness as he started upwards, unbelieving for a long moment as the sun, the source of his power and life on all earth, turn from its familiar yellow to a shadowy blue – an eclipse that showed no climax or passage.
Feeling his own strength ebb away, Solarion stood for a moment, before launching himself upwards once again. The city wasn’t just reeling – It was decimated, bleached by ash and debris that had rendered even Sentinel Stronghold a smoking crater of what it was once. Somewhere in the back of Solarion’s mind, he could recall the genetic memory of his once proud home world, the last moments of his father and mother as they secured him amid the destruction of his sub-dimensional world. Although he could not have understood what was happening, Solarion felt the empathic sense of fear and loss that sent tremors of terrible sadness through his mother’s arms and shone in his father’s eyes. That moment of utter desolation had been the defining moment in which a lifetime of battling for truth and justice had been built, and he was feeling the terrible brunt of that emotion again. Solarion was shaking, trembling as if he felt the intense cold that normally he would shrug off. There was a purpose in the madness he now faced: An odd out-of-place feeling that made him question the very fabric of his world. Solarion fought against the weakness building within him, flying upwards, gaining speed as he moved, hoping to break atmosphere and whatever was distorting the sun.
For a moment, Solarion felt the rush of the outer atmosphere, and he stared, unbelieving, at the sight that greeted him. The non-Euclidian shape of the craft defied his ability to understand it. The craft, for what else could it be, simply could not exist, and yet, there it was, hovering like a grimly silent warden above the Earth. Solarion closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the coldness of space, the harshly silent vacuum that revealed nothing more. Solarion opened his eyes, and flew directly at what he determined the center of the ship to be. Building up space, Solarion flew faster than he had ever pushed himself, fighting back the strain and weakness, moving against a terrible force which threatened to end him. There was progress, and in that moment, Solarion felt the vestiges of hope swell within him.
A center spot ahead seemingly appeared out of the blackness, a red light that seemed to build into intensity, as if a beam has somehow been fired, but was not racing the speed of light. The beam arced with a slow and methodic deliberateness to it, and then almost seemed to stop – suspended in mid-air against the laws of time, space, and reality. Suddenly the beam flared forward, racing with a speed that even the superhuman speedster Blur would be unable to dodge. The red light engulfed Solarion, and in that moment, the sense of hope and possibility of success died. Solarion felt himself cry out, not just for himself, but for the billions he had failed. Hope deserted him, hemorrhaging from his heart, soul, and spirit. Solarion saw his father looking at him as the red whispers crept into his very being. There was no strength simply left to Solarion, as the light intensified, consuming everything in a crimson inferno.
Solarion was Eclipsed.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Prelude #4 - A bit of a problem
43 days, 22 hours, 34 seconds until Penumbra
The
neon-blue screen had become almost burned into the retinas of Paul
Perry. Incident after incident continued to appear on his screen, and
the mountains of data had threatened to bury him alive more than once.
Paul could nearly feel himself falling into the dull pattern of sleep,
the data displaying records that had dated back to the Second World War,
and still nothing. It was beyond infuriating, as Paul tried different
avenues to connect the data together...different approaches, attacks,
vectors, and lines of thinking to try to make order out of the chaos
that the information provided. Four months and still nothing...no
answers...no reasons...and worst of all, no real direction. Paul would
soon enter a meeting with some of the most important people in the world
and repeat what he had told them on eight separate occasions - He had
nothing.
Defeated, Paul rose from his desk, rubbing the bridge of
his nose while sighing. It wasn't like him to fail...and since his
rescue and subsequent rise among the AEGIS SMEs, Paul had gained a
reputation as a problem-solver. Now faced with a problem that was full
of contradictions, he collected his 'Evil Abed' coffee mug and walked
towards the small kitchenette that served the Advanced Data Center for
AEGIS's intelligence service.
Paul stood quietly as co-workers and other AEGIS
personnel conversed. Paul attempted to relax, attempted to ignore
everything that was going on around him...zone out for a few moments in
order to return to the mountain of files, images, and folders that
awaited back at has desk. The sounds of the vending machine rejecting
money playing out amid the other distractions. Paul looked up, and for a
moment, seemed oblivious to the world, his eyes focusing on the
attractive brunette who was attempting to feed a dollar to the
notoriously difficult machine. When she turned to face the collection of
AEGIS staff in the break-room, the question was obvious...and Paul for a
moment felt his left hand move instinctively towards his wallet.
The bill in her hand made him freeze for a moment. The bill wasn't traditional currency, and Paul began to feel his unconscious mind working on a new problem. Another co-worker managed to solve the dilemma, and then joked that the pretty girl had inadvertently attempted to feed the machine the wrong denomination...just a casual accident. Paul's eyes looked sharply towards the dollar, as he reached out and took it. Looking at the bill, Paul's mind raced with possibility, and then it rendered everything clear...the answer was right in front of him.
Handing the dollar back, Paul ran to his desk, sweeping the piles of documents onto the floor, keeping one folder firmly in his right hand. Paul collapsed into his chair, pulling a pencil free from his desk holder and began to mark up the 70+ year old document. Once the pattern had been established, everything had fallen into place, as it always did for Paul...
43 days, 20 hours, 12 seconds until Penumbra
'Gentlemen
and ladies' Paul began casually, standing before the podium and the
assembled group, 'For some time we've been looking for answers and drawn
to this symbol'
Paul's hand moved across the holographic display,
reproducing a symbol that they had all come to know in one form or
another over the course of the investigation.
'We
know' Paul began, 'Historically what this symbol is. We've come to
believe that the symbol is linked to the current world-wide situation,
and if the intelligence is true, than we've got to believe that this
symbol is key to understanding elements of God Mechanics.'
Collecting himself, Paul looked quickly around the room,
realizing that he had the complete attention of some of the most
powerful individuals in the world. For a moment, Paul felt out of his
depth, but the data could not be denied, not by Paul...not by anyone.
'I think...that we've looked at the problem as to being
around the creation and subsequent account of the project's birth. I
think that we've been looking at this in a different light. We've tried
to connect to the original account...the account that launched dozens of
follow-up projects which did not replicate results. How is that
possible? How is it we can't find the data or connection that the
account was to provide?'
Paul stopped to look around the room, and then cleared his throat. Paul could feel their eyes upon him, and he knew that within a moment, he would fundamentally change the truth many of those present had accepted as fact.
Paul stopped to look around the room, and then cleared his throat. Paul could feel their eyes upon him, and he knew that within a moment, he would fundamentally change the truth many of those present had accepted as fact.
'The account was a lie. A convenient lie which was
created to conceal the truth...whatever that truth was. The report was
created, carefully crafted at probably the highest levels of the
government at that time to conceal whatever created the Star Sentinel.
All of our work since then in attempts to recreate the program failed
because....because the report that we based the majority of our work on
was a lie'
Paul continued to look down at the document in front of
him. He could hear the murmurs and discussions drowning out the world
again, his eyes stared at the simplicity of his notes, the scribbled
hand-writing in the margins, and the circled points he had made.
'Why?'
The man's voice resonated and ended the murmuring. Paul looked up and met the gray eyes of Michael Deckard, who stared with an intensity which made Paul slightly nervous. There was a mutual moment of silence as the two men stared at each other, and as the answer came, Paul felt himself unable or unwilling to break eye contact.
The man's voice resonated and ended the murmuring. Paul looked up and met the gray eyes of Michael Deckard, who stared with an intensity which made Paul slightly nervous. There was a mutual moment of silence as the two men stared at each other, and as the answer came, Paul felt himself unable or unwilling to break eye contact.
'I think....I believe....that it was orchestrated to
cover up something major....something that was serious enough that they
had to concoct a story about Precursor medical experimentation as a
lesser alibi'
'Well' Deckard said after a moment, 'I suppose then we find out why that was...after you answer a question'
'What question' Paul said, eyes still locked with Deckard.
'Is this your best guess?' Deckard said calmly. the
coolness in his voice betrayed nothing of his intentions or thoughts,
and Paul found it difficult to read the older man.
'It
is the only answer that makes sense. None of the other data supports
any other answer...and it would answer the question you asked originally
- Why is it the Precursors are so important to God Mechanics? The truth
is...they're not....they didn't create the Star Sentinel, even by
accident. Something else is at work here'.
Paul felt the data recombine as it always did, attempting
to quietly assemble itself inside his mind into new and different
avenues of thought that could make the theory fit. When after a moment
he could not make the answers work any other way than how he had
presented it, Paul felt himself say 'I'm absolutely certain'.
'Then...' Deckard added, 'We see what we can learn about the Star Sentinel, and why he's so damned important to Target: Shadow'
'But where to look' Paul said, 'Where to look?'
____
____
ECLIPSED
Marscon 2014
www.marscon.netMarscon 2014
www.defendersinternationalrpg.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Abuzz with activity
Marscon 2014 will shortly be upon us, and in preparation for the event, I'll be reposting the lead-ins to the convention. Convention registration can be found here, while event registration will be posted on Friday, 29 November 2013. In addition, character questions and other information will be posted shortly in a new FAQ.
- Mark
- Mark
Friday, September 13, 2013
Eclipsed Prelude #3 - Totality
Ten Years Ago:
His hand trembled as he held the cigarette, doing his best to keep it dry amid the pouring rain. His fingers, shaking from both the cold and the most recent stinging events fumbled with the lighter, failing to turn the spark wheel. After a few moments, the warm ember of flame lit up a haunted face - A man at his very bottom.
For some time, he stood on the bridge, allowing the rain to saturate every element of his being. He took a deep drag off the cigarette, allowing the smoke to waft like a dampened halo as he stared blankly over the edge of the bridge. He tried to close his eyes, block out the emptiness that seemed to fill every crevice and nook inside of him, finding nothing but the cold faces of former friends and employers. There was a terribly abyss looking up at him from places deep inside, and it was that moment that he had lost the will to resist that eventual pull that would consume every element of who he was.
He had lost another job, and with that, the last shred of self-respect and hopeful possibility. Of course, he had reasoned that he had lost himself already by taking the position with the Morning Zoo, but the stunts and 'antics' had reduced him to shilling for what he assumed was a better position in the radio hierarchy. It wasn't just the fact that he had learned that he was not respected as an equal amid the decision makers and 'newscasters', it was that he was their own private joke - a name used to elicit guffaws and behind the back jokes. He had become that - A joke...a private jester for those who deemed themselves his betters. The image of those faces made him choke up a bit, making his trembling hands shake uncontrollably out of pain and anger, but he was tired - Too tired to fight the abyss any longer.
The cigarette was nearly finished. The last bit of ashes drifted down in a soppy mess, made more so by the increase in the rain. He dropped the butt over the edge, watching it quickly disappear into the wet darkness. His eyes strained to see the bottom, but found that he could not - a long drop that would mark the end of it all. His hands tightened around the railing, as he could almost hear the barbs being exchanged between the station - the big joke. He closed his eyes tightly, letting out a sigh that was a mixture of emotions. Would there be anyone who really cared enough? Would there be a moment in which they realized that he had value, that his views and presence meant something more than a cheap joke or a hurried impression of him? Would his death even register?
There were too many thoughts like that crowding his mind as he pulled himself over the rail, holding the edge of it while straining to decide to let go. 'Nash Milton' the voice called out to him. The suddenness and clarity of the voice nearly caused him to let go. For a moment, he wasn't certain if he had heard someone calling his name or if he had simply imagined it. For the moment, he stared forward, until he heard his name called again; 'Nash Milton' the voice called again. It was a woman's voice, a voice that caused him to turn away from the drop and back towards the other side of the rail.
She stood amid the pouring rain as if she was an angel. The rain seemed to fall around her, as he stared unable to react. Her features were exotically beautiful, framed by a black hat that seemed to shield her from the rain, and despite the fact he couldn't see her eyes, he knew that she was looking directly at him. 'Nash Milton' she began again, staring at him with unseen eyes, 'Such a fall without a chance at ascension is indeed a pity.'
'S-stay b-back' Nash said brokenly, his hands gripping the slick rail, leaning forward, 'I'll do it...I...I need to do it' 'Why?' the woman asked, her voice genuinely concerned. In a simply word, Nash felt more compassion and sincerity than he had heard in years.
'Do you feel all is beyond hope?' 'Hope....' Nash started, his fingers tightening against the metal, digging into his hands, 'What hope do I have? It's all hopeless' 'Hopeless?' The woman said, questioningly before taking a few steps forward, 'No Nash...not hopeless....never hopeless. I bring you great tidings...'
'Tidings?' Nash felt himself responding, trembling now with a sensation he couldn't quite place. It was as if someone had crossed his grave, which in consideration of the situation, wouldn't necessarily be out of place, 'Tidings...' Nash added, 'How....How did you know my name?'
'As I said' the woman added with the glimpse of a smile, 'I was sent to you...with glad tidings' Nash watched her move forward, the rain seemingly avoiding the strange woman. Closer under the sodium light Nash could see her better. She was a tall woman, a woman of extraordinary features in a black and white dress. For a long moment, Nash was left speechless, his hands relaxing ever so slightly from the edge of the rail. It was that moment that Nash lost his balance, his feet giving way in the slippery edge.
Nash felt himself lurching forward, the darkness yawning below him, and he felt himself pitch over the edge. A sudden jerk moved him back, as he felt his arm wrench nearly out of socket. He dangled over the edge, held in place by the woman's hand. Nash felt himself pulled back, lifted from the rim to the solidness of the bridge.
'Why?' Nash managed after a long while, his voice nearly above the din of the light falling rain. Nash didn't look up, didn't face his savior, sitting in a puddle where he had been dropped. 'You have a destiny, Nash Milton' the woman added, as she adjusted her long opera gloves, 'And this destiny is one of great importance in what must come'
'Destiny?' Nash added, 'What destiny?' 'Glorious destiny' she added, looking again at him, 'for *he* has need of you. Serve willingly your destiny and the rewards are....boundless' Her hand reached down to him, and Nash felt his own move up, at first reluctantly, to meet her grasp.
There was something in the strength of the woman that amazed him, but it was matched with the absolutely coldness of her. It was as if she were a porcelain doll, beautiful to look at, but cold and hard to the touch. Nash looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments, the first time he had really seen them, and felt himself shudder - There was no warmth in the woman's eyes at all.
'A wise decision, Nash Milton' the woman added, a small smile creasing her perfect red lips, 'A wise decision. *He* will be pleased'
'Is it a new job?' Nash asked, his own greed rising again.
'A glorious job...where you will see yourself a god among men' She added, her smile continuing, 'And no one will mock you ever again...' Nash felt himself flush, and yet, he knew somewhere he was making the deal with the devil. The woman had come to him at his lowest point, and yet, he could not shake the feeling that somehow, he would have been better off at the bottom of the abyss.
______
Today
He stood as the make-up girl continued to apply last minute touch-ups. His personal assistant continued to read off the bullet-point topics, and his guests had all supplicated themselves for the moment on his show. He had restarted his career that night so long ago, and took what the woman had said to heart. She had become his muse, his dark angel that guided him to shaping his new image. Now Nash Milton was an icon of a political generation.
Nash recalled his initial hesitation, how could he have been so foolish? His net worth in book sales, television revenues, and the talk radio circuit alone made him a wealthy giant among men. When Nash Milton said something, people listened, even the most ardent of critics. Nash stared out amid the sea of producers, technicians, and underlings that made the show happen. Somewhere amid the mass she stood, and Nash smiled at her with as he emerged onto the stage.
The teleprompter lit up with a light neon, but Nash had long since abandoned its practical use. Nash was plugged in directly to *him*, and the sense of purpose and power filled his every being. The set had the icons of patriotism and blackboards where he made his own notes and 'realizations' His set was carefully modeled after George Washington's personal study, and the digital screen had already brought up the issues that Nash would press upon a willing population.
'Good Evening America, I'm Nash Milton...and this is 'Eyewitness'. Tonight friends, we will talk about the abuses of power....the abuses of liberty....and what you need to know....' Nash smiled to the camera, but it wasn't just his smile...*He* was working through him....and the sheep would listen...and follow.
____
ECLIPSED
MARSCON
JAN 17 - 19 2014
His hand trembled as he held the cigarette, doing his best to keep it dry amid the pouring rain. His fingers, shaking from both the cold and the most recent stinging events fumbled with the lighter, failing to turn the spark wheel. After a few moments, the warm ember of flame lit up a haunted face - A man at his very bottom.
For some time, he stood on the bridge, allowing the rain to saturate every element of his being. He took a deep drag off the cigarette, allowing the smoke to waft like a dampened halo as he stared blankly over the edge of the bridge. He tried to close his eyes, block out the emptiness that seemed to fill every crevice and nook inside of him, finding nothing but the cold faces of former friends and employers. There was a terribly abyss looking up at him from places deep inside, and it was that moment that he had lost the will to resist that eventual pull that would consume every element of who he was.
He had lost another job, and with that, the last shred of self-respect and hopeful possibility. Of course, he had reasoned that he had lost himself already by taking the position with the Morning Zoo, but the stunts and 'antics' had reduced him to shilling for what he assumed was a better position in the radio hierarchy. It wasn't just the fact that he had learned that he was not respected as an equal amid the decision makers and 'newscasters', it was that he was their own private joke - a name used to elicit guffaws and behind the back jokes. He had become that - A joke...a private jester for those who deemed themselves his betters. The image of those faces made him choke up a bit, making his trembling hands shake uncontrollably out of pain and anger, but he was tired - Too tired to fight the abyss any longer.
The cigarette was nearly finished. The last bit of ashes drifted down in a soppy mess, made more so by the increase in the rain. He dropped the butt over the edge, watching it quickly disappear into the wet darkness. His eyes strained to see the bottom, but found that he could not - a long drop that would mark the end of it all. His hands tightened around the railing, as he could almost hear the barbs being exchanged between the station - the big joke. He closed his eyes tightly, letting out a sigh that was a mixture of emotions. Would there be anyone who really cared enough? Would there be a moment in which they realized that he had value, that his views and presence meant something more than a cheap joke or a hurried impression of him? Would his death even register?
There were too many thoughts like that crowding his mind as he pulled himself over the rail, holding the edge of it while straining to decide to let go. 'Nash Milton' the voice called out to him. The suddenness and clarity of the voice nearly caused him to let go. For a moment, he wasn't certain if he had heard someone calling his name or if he had simply imagined it. For the moment, he stared forward, until he heard his name called again; 'Nash Milton' the voice called again. It was a woman's voice, a voice that caused him to turn away from the drop and back towards the other side of the rail.
She stood amid the pouring rain as if she was an angel. The rain seemed to fall around her, as he stared unable to react. Her features were exotically beautiful, framed by a black hat that seemed to shield her from the rain, and despite the fact he couldn't see her eyes, he knew that she was looking directly at him. 'Nash Milton' she began again, staring at him with unseen eyes, 'Such a fall without a chance at ascension is indeed a pity.'
'S-stay b-back' Nash said brokenly, his hands gripping the slick rail, leaning forward, 'I'll do it...I...I need to do it' 'Why?' the woman asked, her voice genuinely concerned. In a simply word, Nash felt more compassion and sincerity than he had heard in years.
'Do you feel all is beyond hope?' 'Hope....' Nash started, his fingers tightening against the metal, digging into his hands, 'What hope do I have? It's all hopeless' 'Hopeless?' The woman said, questioningly before taking a few steps forward, 'No Nash...not hopeless....never hopeless. I bring you great tidings...'
'Tidings?' Nash felt himself responding, trembling now with a sensation he couldn't quite place. It was as if someone had crossed his grave, which in consideration of the situation, wouldn't necessarily be out of place, 'Tidings...' Nash added, 'How....How did you know my name?'
'As I said' the woman added with the glimpse of a smile, 'I was sent to you...with glad tidings' Nash watched her move forward, the rain seemingly avoiding the strange woman. Closer under the sodium light Nash could see her better. She was a tall woman, a woman of extraordinary features in a black and white dress. For a long moment, Nash was left speechless, his hands relaxing ever so slightly from the edge of the rail. It was that moment that Nash lost his balance, his feet giving way in the slippery edge.
Nash felt himself lurching forward, the darkness yawning below him, and he felt himself pitch over the edge. A sudden jerk moved him back, as he felt his arm wrench nearly out of socket. He dangled over the edge, held in place by the woman's hand. Nash felt himself pulled back, lifted from the rim to the solidness of the bridge.
'Why?' Nash managed after a long while, his voice nearly above the din of the light falling rain. Nash didn't look up, didn't face his savior, sitting in a puddle where he had been dropped. 'You have a destiny, Nash Milton' the woman added, as she adjusted her long opera gloves, 'And this destiny is one of great importance in what must come'
'Destiny?' Nash added, 'What destiny?' 'Glorious destiny' she added, looking again at him, 'for *he* has need of you. Serve willingly your destiny and the rewards are....boundless' Her hand reached down to him, and Nash felt his own move up, at first reluctantly, to meet her grasp.
There was something in the strength of the woman that amazed him, but it was matched with the absolutely coldness of her. It was as if she were a porcelain doll, beautiful to look at, but cold and hard to the touch. Nash looked into her eyes for the briefest of moments, the first time he had really seen them, and felt himself shudder - There was no warmth in the woman's eyes at all.
'A wise decision, Nash Milton' the woman added, a small smile creasing her perfect red lips, 'A wise decision. *He* will be pleased'
'Is it a new job?' Nash asked, his own greed rising again.
'A glorious job...where you will see yourself a god among men' She added, her smile continuing, 'And no one will mock you ever again...' Nash felt himself flush, and yet, he knew somewhere he was making the deal with the devil. The woman had come to him at his lowest point, and yet, he could not shake the feeling that somehow, he would have been better off at the bottom of the abyss.
______
Today
He stood as the make-up girl continued to apply last minute touch-ups. His personal assistant continued to read off the bullet-point topics, and his guests had all supplicated themselves for the moment on his show. He had restarted his career that night so long ago, and took what the woman had said to heart. She had become his muse, his dark angel that guided him to shaping his new image. Now Nash Milton was an icon of a political generation.
Nash recalled his initial hesitation, how could he have been so foolish? His net worth in book sales, television revenues, and the talk radio circuit alone made him a wealthy giant among men. When Nash Milton said something, people listened, even the most ardent of critics. Nash stared out amid the sea of producers, technicians, and underlings that made the show happen. Somewhere amid the mass she stood, and Nash smiled at her with as he emerged onto the stage.
The teleprompter lit up with a light neon, but Nash had long since abandoned its practical use. Nash was plugged in directly to *him*, and the sense of purpose and power filled his every being. The set had the icons of patriotism and blackboards where he made his own notes and 'realizations' His set was carefully modeled after George Washington's personal study, and the digital screen had already brought up the issues that Nash would press upon a willing population.
'Good Evening America, I'm Nash Milton...and this is 'Eyewitness'. Tonight friends, we will talk about the abuses of power....the abuses of liberty....and what you need to know....' Nash smiled to the camera, but it wasn't just his smile...*He* was working through him....and the sheep would listen...and follow.
____
ECLIPSED
MARSCON
JAN 17 - 19 2014
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Special Edition Adventures
Good Morning all;
So as many of you know, January 2014 will mark the official 'one year' anniversary of the DI Multi-Regional campaign (And Year 28 in the campaign) and the culmination of an over-arching story in 'Eclipsed'. It got me to thinking that while several of the 'end of year' events are linked, people who had begun playing recently or had begun during the end of the Crusaders really hadn't had an opportunity to play those adventures, or that information which could make 'Eclipsed' more enjoyable might be missing. In addition, these adventures, while bringing together various plots and modules during a year are actually interconnected (as long-term players might attest. The more I got to thinking about it, the more I realized that heading into 'Eclipsed', I wanted to give people the opportunity to experience the 'full' aspect of 'Eclipsed', as well as give people the opportunity who didn't get to play these adventures that chance before they go into the vault along with the Ark.
Therefore, there will be Two 'Special Edition' adventures:
Crossover: Special Edition (Crusaders 2009)
Devoured: Special Edition (Crusaders 2011)
I will be running each Special Edition Module at least once during the next four months, leading towards 'Eclipsed'. If you haven't played in a while, never played, or started playing after one of these adventures, then it is something to be part of. As these adventures were designed for a full weekend, I've gone back and had a chance to re-edit them. Both adventures will run about eight hours apiece, which would be a full day of gaming. Playing 'Crossover' and 'Devoured' isn't essential to playing 'Eclipsed', I just thought I'd offer them up accordingly.
I might be adding a Special Edition of 'The Reaving' (P:WG 2007), if people are interested.
Ideally, we'll be running the special editions beginning at the end of September/Beginning of October, and would run the SE mods over October/November. I'll have more details once I work out the locations.
If you have questions, let me know!
So as many of you know, January 2014 will mark the official 'one year' anniversary of the DI Multi-Regional campaign (And Year 28 in the campaign) and the culmination of an over-arching story in 'Eclipsed'. It got me to thinking that while several of the 'end of year' events are linked, people who had begun playing recently or had begun during the end of the Crusaders really hadn't had an opportunity to play those adventures, or that information which could make 'Eclipsed' more enjoyable might be missing. In addition, these adventures, while bringing together various plots and modules during a year are actually interconnected (as long-term players might attest. The more I got to thinking about it, the more I realized that heading into 'Eclipsed', I wanted to give people the opportunity to experience the 'full' aspect of 'Eclipsed', as well as give people the opportunity who didn't get to play these adventures that chance before they go into the vault along with the Ark.
Therefore, there will be Two 'Special Edition' adventures:
Crossover: Special Edition (Crusaders 2009)
Devoured: Special Edition (Crusaders 2011)
I will be running each Special Edition Module at least once during the next four months, leading towards 'Eclipsed'. If you haven't played in a while, never played, or started playing after one of these adventures, then it is something to be part of. As these adventures were designed for a full weekend, I've gone back and had a chance to re-edit them. Both adventures will run about eight hours apiece, which would be a full day of gaming. Playing 'Crossover' and 'Devoured' isn't essential to playing 'Eclipsed', I just thought I'd offer them up accordingly.
I might be adding a Special Edition of 'The Reaving' (P:WG 2007), if people are interested.
Ideally, we'll be running the special editions beginning at the end of September/Beginning of October, and would run the SE mods over October/November. I'll have more details once I work out the locations.
If you have questions, let me know!
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Eclipsed Prelude #2 - Second Contact
There was nothing
left to give. Ashra Shan had fought more campaigns and wars than many
who had set upon the great council, and he knew from experience that
they had nothing left.
The push had been murderous, and even with the air support of the gliders, it was too much to suggest that they would be able to do more than gain a temporary purchase. Shan rose unsteadily as he stared across the expanse, shifting his head to the side as he realized that even the gravimetric pulse weaponry had done little to stop their advance.
The push had been murderous, and even with the air support of the gliders, it was too much to suggest that they would be able to do more than gain a temporary purchase. Shan rose unsteadily as he stared across the expanse, shifting his head to the side as he realized that even the gravimetric pulse weaponry had done little to stop their advance.
These were the moments, Shan reminded himself, that command was a terrible and weighty thing. Watching the writhing black mass move forward, Shan faced the grim options that within hours, another planet in the Imperium would be lost.
What could he do? The heaviest weapons had done little but scar the landscape. The population couldn't be evacuated fast enough, and despite the diversion of several capital ships to assist in the action, there would be nothing that could be done to slow the onslaught.
Scientists in the core worlds had begun to discuss of the loss on planetary scales rather than population or continents. If the Imperium's finest could not hold the planet, the core worlds would be exposed, and from there....an entire quadrant.
When the Shai' J'ihn ships had arrived, Shan had actually blessed the Starmother and the Nine Lights. They Shai' J'ihn Spartax class warships had been attempting to assist the evacuation, before it was determined they could do nothing more than lay down supporting fire for the last of the shuttles.
Shan rechecked his own ammunition supply and again surveyed the outlining outposts. There were already so many...so many who had been....converted.
At first, they had debated the cause, a pathogen or some sort of communicable microbe. Although he wasn't a scientist, the idea of a psionic cause seemed to make as much sense as any, especially with the swiftness in which the conversion had occurred.
The ground shook and rumbled, and he scanned the horizon to see the Spartax warships strafing the groups with Quantbombs, buying a small caravan shuttle time to lift off. It wasn't a matter anymore of rescue...he could already see the larger Imperium ships moving in with the WorldBuster.
'Ashra Shan' the voice called to him. For a moment, he thought it was simply a trick from the reverberation of the Quantbombs, but when his name was called again, he stopped and turned. Standing before him was a man, older than any he had ever seen. The man seemed dressed oddly for a battlefield - a simple herdsman, light gray tunic with a careworn face and hood. The man stood taller than Shan, with a full beard and white-gray hair that curled slightly around his shoulders.
'This world is lost, Ahsra Shan...you know it is. They have been swept up in the Grand Infernal Calculations of God Mechanics.'
Shan attempted to answer, but found himself unable to do so. His own voice paled in the din of explosions and gravimetric distortion weaponry. The herdsman's voice remained clear and strained only by the fact that he was an old man.
'Ashra Shan' the herdsman began again, 'You have been chosen. We have need of you, and other like you'
Shan began to motion in protest, trying to communicate above the war sounds to express his refusal. As if in answer, the old herdsman put his hands out, palm flatted upwards.
'All will be made known Ashra Shan...but for now...we go...'
Before Ashra Shan could protest, they disappeared into nothingness. Moments later, the converted swept over the command post. Moments after that, the first of the Worldbusters fell, followed by bright light that flashed as brilliantly as the nearby sun.
-
MARSCON 2014
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
ECLIPSED Prelude: First Contact
*KTHUNK*
He took his position as the rest of the AEGIS elite squad breached the immediate door.
Sweeping ahead, he moved forward, aiming ahead with practiced precision.
Comanche-Two moved silently in parallel, as he continued to push into
the room.The first real opposition appeared like a dimly back-lit shadow, running headlong into the group. Instincts took over and he felt his fingers tighten on the pulse rifle, compensating for the recoil as he dropped to a kneeling position. The target staggered backwards, falling with arms flailing wildly from the impact of the shot. Firing a second shot to ensure the target would not get up, he moved, still crouching, forward to a more defensible position.
Comanche-Three was engaged by the sounds of the weird twang that semi-silenced gunfire made. Waving his hand forward, he moved to support Comanche-Two and Three, taking only the briefest moment to take stock of the tactical situation beyond what the initial intelligence had been. The group had modified the building down to the support structures, and had done so without alerting anyone, or for that matter, utilizing traditional mechanical methods. There was an alien, inhuman quality to the interior, one that had him thinking about that old movie in which a group of marines faced that group of elliots. It wasn't a pleasant memory....the truth was, it had scared him when he had seen it as a young boy and the images of the bound-up colonist and exploding alien had stuck with him. He could actually hear his breathing now, felt his heart racing slightly, and he had to consciously work to ensure the anxiety remained suppressed.
Two more tangos emerged from the shadows, giving him just enough time to take aim before he fired. It was weird how they just seemed to rush forward, no consideration to their position or cover, or for weapons fire for that matter. Comanche-Three seemed frantic about something, and he zeroed in on the discussion, using the OP-SET to switch to infra-red. Comanche-Three was correct, that the group of tangos had no body temperature. Feeling a jolt of cold anxiety pass over him, he gripped the handle of his rifle, changing the rounds from 'stun' to 'live'.
His telemetry showed the downed Tangos, now slowly struggling up. The initial shock should have kept them from being able to move for hours, let alone get him. He crooked his head as he saw the first tangos on their feet. Breaking from his cover, he fired on the slow moving figures, taking no chances as the smart-system guided the shots directly to the heads. He had seen enough zombie movies to know firing anywhere else would be pointless. Moving room to room, he fired six salvos in total, stopping finally at the junction in the center. Meeting up with Comanches Two, Three, and Four, a barely audible check between confirmed the same on-site SoS data and that none had been touched, let alone bitten before continuing forward.
The central chamber actually dropped three stories, each floor emptied and dug up,with a precision that made everyone a little jittery. It wasn't just the host of 'others', it was the way in which the construction had been performed. He was by no means a mathematician, but he could understand that the chamber had been built to odd geometric angles. The descent downwards met little resistance, and within a few moments, they had descended past ground level into the sub-basement.
For a moment, he didn't quite know how to react to what he was seeing. A single dark obelisk stood in the center of a flat floor. Figures were bound nearby, in various conditions, while a single point of access, a small geodesic red oval seemed to pulse with some unholy ruby-colored light. In that moment, he felt the most afraid - not for what he was seeing, but for what he could not comprehend. Comanche-Three broke formation and ran screaming up the ramp, while the other two remained steadfast, if not immobile.
He thought he could hear it even through the OP-SET. For a moment, he had to check several times to make certain he was not picking up outside chatter. The Obelisk, or rather what the Obelisk represented seemed to be *whispering* to him. The language was unknown, but somehow he knew the intent, and for a moment, he felt himself listening.
He shook his head, feeling the heaviness of the room, and then focused to shut out all other distraction. Seeing that Comanche-Two and Four had become immobile, he raised his rifle and fired at the red oval. The piercing sound caused the OP-SET to overload, and it was minutes before he had fully recovered from the effect. He roughly became aware of other AEGIS agents shaking him, trying to get him to respond, and when he finally motioned them away, minutes had passed.
He took off his helmet and stood looking at the room. AEGIS had already begun to clean-up the site, treating those still alive, and working to dismantle whatever the Obelisk was. For a moment he simply stood watching everything, until his eyes caught something on the walls. Lighting the area up with a powerful halogen, he stopped completely and felt his body shiver again. Replacing the helmet, he manually patched into his signal comm, hoping the transmitter still functioned.
'Go' was the only word uttered from the other end of the comm.
'I think....I think you need to see this'
'How bad?'
'Uh....' he felt him pause, 'I think....real bad'
As he stared upwards, Fer-De-Lance knew he could not make sense of the imagery or scrawled equations against the wall. Somewhere in the years of training and education, he knew he recognized the complex glyphs as mathematics, but unlike he had ever seen before.
'Site Two cleared' Fer-De-Lance added, 'It's worse than the others'
Updates #1
Sorry for the delay in responding everyone!
A lot has happened in the last two months, and I've been lapsed in updating with things. First, I apologize as we will not be making GUNS OF AUGUST in Williamsburg, VA this year. Between real life commitments and unable to get a schedule hammered out, it's been difficult.
I am planning on the third gameday of the year, sometime in late August/Early September which will feature the last premiere of the season and the ability to catch up on Frozen, UNICORN, Abraxas, or Ascension parts 1 and 2.
Very shortly I'll be posting the first Eclipsed prelude, which begins the march towards Marscon 2014! I hope you enjoy it!
Mark
A lot has happened in the last two months, and I've been lapsed in updating with things. First, I apologize as we will not be making GUNS OF AUGUST in Williamsburg, VA this year. Between real life commitments and unable to get a schedule hammered out, it's been difficult.
I am planning on the third gameday of the year, sometime in late August/Early September which will feature the last premiere of the season and the ability to catch up on Frozen, UNICORN, Abraxas, or Ascension parts 1 and 2.
Very shortly I'll be posting the first Eclipsed prelude, which begins the march towards Marscon 2014! I hope you enjoy it!
Mark
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Upcoming June Gameday
Good Afternoon all;
Sorry for the extreme delay between posts. Things have been rather hectic as we get the summer schedule set up. The next DI event will be June 15 + 16, 2013 at the annual OLYMPUS MONS GAMEDAY. We will be featuring two Premiere events:
- Succession:
- Ravager:
These two events will begin The Road to Eclipsed, the Marscon 2014 end of year event in which D.I. will face its greatest challenge to date, and that says something!
The Gameday sign-up will be at:
http://warhorn.net/defenders/
I will be posting more information as we get closer to the gameday.
Also, this weekend is Balticon 48! I will be going to Balticon to support the return of a gaming program within Balticon to include RPGs. As such, I will try to get a few tables together to promote our events! (Head over to the Olympus Mons website for more details).
More announcements are coming!
Sorry for the extreme delay between posts. Things have been rather hectic as we get the summer schedule set up. The next DI event will be June 15 + 16, 2013 at the annual OLYMPUS MONS GAMEDAY. We will be featuring two Premiere events:
- Succession:
- Ravager:
These two events will begin The Road to Eclipsed, the Marscon 2014 end of year event in which D.I. will face its greatest challenge to date, and that says something!
The Gameday sign-up will be at:
http://warhorn.net/defenders/
I will be posting more information as we get closer to the gameday.
Also, this weekend is Balticon 48! I will be going to Balticon to support the return of a gaming program within Balticon to include RPGs. As such, I will try to get a few tables together to promote our events! (Head over to the Olympus Mons website for more details).
More announcements are coming!
Monday, April 8, 2013
Adventure/Module Changes
Howdy Everyone;
There are changes afoot, which will affect the remainder of the campaign year as well as the adventure order and module write-ups:
CASE0104: 'Succession' will debut sometime in June 2013
CASE0105: 'Ravager' is tentatively scheduled to debut at Guns of August during August of 2013
CASE0106: 'Unholy' has been renamed 'Blackfire', scheduled to debut October 2013 Location TBA
CASE 0107: 'Evolution' has been absorbed into the Marscon 2014 Event and renamed:
MARSCON 2014:
Olympus Mons announces a new Defenders International Event 'ECLIPSED'.
Synopsis: The world is at the mercy of Lord Eclipse and only Defenders International can do anything about it! Eclipsed will play out over the weekend of January 17 - 19 2014. The event includes:
Prepare to be Eclipsed!
There are changes afoot, which will affect the remainder of the campaign year as well as the adventure order and module write-ups:
CASE0104: 'Succession' will debut sometime in June 2013
CASE0105: 'Ravager' is tentatively scheduled to debut at Guns of August during August of 2013
CASE0106: 'Unholy' has been renamed 'Blackfire', scheduled to debut October 2013 Location TBA
CASE 0107: 'Evolution' has been absorbed into the Marscon 2014 Event and renamed:
MARSCON 2014:
Olympus Mons announces a new Defenders International Event 'ECLIPSED'.
Synopsis: The world is at the mercy of Lord Eclipse and only Defenders International can do anything about it! Eclipsed will play out over the weekend of January 17 - 19 2014. The event includes:
- Three new D.I. Adventures:
- CASE0107: Eclipsed: Dusk
- CASE0108: Eclipsed: Nightfall
- CASE 0109: Eclipsed: Daybreak
- Two interactive Events:
- CASE0107A: Eclipsed: Twilight
- CASE0109A: Eclipsed: Mourning
Prepare to be Eclipsed!
Ravencon 2013
Ravencon 2013 wrapped up with the successful debut of DICASE-0103 'Abraxas'. Three tables debuted the new module, with an additional table of CRU-0601 'Honor Among Thieves: Dead Reckoning'.
The next DI Module, CASE0104 'Succession' will debut sometime during June 2013, dates and location to be announced. More information will be posted once both of those things are 'locked' down.
The next DI Module, CASE0104 'Succession' will debut sometime during June 2013, dates and location to be announced. More information will be posted once both of those things are 'locked' down.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Welcome to the Defenders International RPG Blog
This blog is dedicated to Mark Geary's Defenders International RPG Campaign, originally established in 1986 and currently running in the Mid-Atlantic Region. This blog will feature campaign information, upcoming DI-related events, and links to other sites dedicated to the DI Campaign and the original Marvel Super Heroes (MSH) RPG system.
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