Post by pendell on Jun 8, 2014 14:40:40 GMT -5
57.5: CADAR PRIME
No one notices, in this busy port, as a nondescript Tempus Fugit sets down on docking pad 35. The crew begins to file off heading for the spice hall. Conspicuous among them is a tall man, obviously the captain, and a graybearded old man who is haranguing him. "Make sure you deliver that package to the palace here -- the Cadars'll really appreciate it. And the crew would be happiest if they were doing profitable work..."
At this the captain turns to him. "I'm sorry, but this is as far as you go."
"... come again? "
" I mean that I don't need a first mate to tell me when morale is low or whether I should take contracts or not. So it's best you find another ship. And here, Cadar Prime, is the best place to do it."
The old man's eyes brim a bit with tears, and the captain walks with him to the palace to apply for a new birth. Finally, the mate turns. "I think you'll regret this."
"Perhaps."
The old man continues: "You haven't even named the ship yet. What are you gonna do? Register as the call sign CSS ANONYMOUS? Now there's a manful scheme."
"It's not a concern of yours any longer, I'm afraid. As for the name, I'll give her a name when she's earned it."
57.6: CADAR PRIME
Jobs. jobs... jobs... how about this one to Rychert?
"Naw, we're too broke and too small to tick of any faction."
"This one?"
"Great House Thulun? What part of 'we can't afford to offend anyone' did I not communicate the last time?"
"Fine."
scroll...scroll... scroll ...
"Well, here we are. This is the ONLY job in the whole starport that isn't explicitly aimed at a faction."
"Deliver to Aro Prime ... $1876 ... well, that's awfully cheap, but I guess we have no choice. Well, this will be our first mission. Let's make it a good one."
And so the Captain rousts the crew from the spice hall, some carrying each other as they are still a bit stupefied. "Stand by to raise ship!"
With a thunder and a blast of recorded music, the Tempus rides a sunflame into orbit. After getting in the groove towards Aro Prime, the Captain settles back "Well, this is it."
"Relax captain, what could go wrong? "
57.9: ARO PRIME ORBIT
"Orbital insertion complete."
"Very well, hail Aro control and get us a vector towards the urban zone. Looks like a fairly trouble-free first delivery..."
"Captain, new radar contact, designated Uniform-1. It is coming around the planet FAST, on an intercept course."
"General quarters. A pirate, perhaps? Maybe a patrol vessel come to inspect us..?"
"We're analyzing the target's energy signature and comparing it with the ESM database... um, Captain?"
"Yes? "
"I think you'd better see this for yourself...."
A bit irked, Captain Antiss steps around the bridge and peers onto the tactical officer's console. The readout is clear and unmistakeable: RED ZORBA ALIEN.
"This is a very poor attempt at a joke. Put yourself down for a week in the torpedo bay."
"It's no joke, Captain. I've rerun the check three times."
Captain Antiss turns to the crew pit. "DECK OFFICER! Give me a cross-check on contact Uniform-1. I'll run it myself. We may have faulty sensors."
The full check takes about 30 seconds.
"I confirm one red zorba alien rounding the planet and closing on an intercept vector."
"Concur, sir." "Concur."
Faced with the unanimous opinion of his crew, the Captain nods. "The contact is authentic. We're about to engage a Red Zorba on our very first mission."
"We're screwed, aren't we? "
"Most likely," The Captain nods, "but we're Cadar, and Cadar never say die."
"Weapons, send them the Cadar Universal Greeting. Helm , get me an emergency escape vector. Break us out of orbit, and we'll lose them in the local gas giant."
"Yes, sir." The 'Cadar Universal Greeting' was a salvo of HK hypersonic torpedoes, each carrying multi-megatons of nuclear death. "Torpedo missed , sir. We're being jammed. The vessel is closing. "
"Keep firing guns and attempt to retreat."
"Ineffective sir! IT'S STILL COMING!"
"Don't panic, man! Keep the guns hot! They haven't got us yet!"
Unfortunately, for all their best efforts, the zorba inexorably overhauls them. There is a clang as the vessels merge, and the sound of plasma torches can be heard as the alien boarding party enters.
"Hull breach! They're boarding us!"
"Fire directly into the alien ship, I don't care if we get damaged in the process!"
"No effect, we can't seem to hit it even when our ships are locked together! I think the aliens are subverting our targeting software!"
"Then I guess, we have no choice."
The Captain, a military officer formerly of Cadar, turns around and opens the case. Out of it he draws a beautiful , gleaming blade -- some who had heard of Templar legend recognized this as the 'Drakos blade'. "My family left this to me. We can't fight or run. So here's what we're going to do. Alien ships are controlled by a single Tyrant. If we can kill it , we can still get out of this alive. I'm going directly into the alien ship, towards their bridge, and I'm going to do my best to slice it into bits. Have the rest of the crew back me up. Nothing matters save getting me, alive, to their brain center."
There follow a very confused, terrifying minutes. Without any real weapons aboard the crew uses mining explosives, wrenches, and anything that comes to hand to fend off the wave of bugs.
The alien interior is bizarre, like the inside of a man's stomach. Hurriedly the crew rushes through the ship, ignored by most of the aliens. Evidently most of the warriors are already aboard the Tempus -- only workers remain, and they pay the team no mind.
At last the team bursts into a central chamber into which what look like nerves lead -- the center of the ship. A vast, many-legged monstrosity rolls down towards them. Captain Antiss dodges deftly , slicing off a leg at a time while the crew shouts, throws objects, and distracts the monster. At last it staggers to the deck, helpless, and the captain stabs it directly in the nerve cluster with one deft thrust of his sword.
the creature's eyes grow dark.
The ship grows dark. The alien insects, which had been quietly going about their tasks oblivious to the battle, suddenly begin shaking , some falling over, others going berserk and running into walls, still others wandering aimlessly.
"Roll call! Who's still here?"
A quick check reveals that half the crew is dead, but 13 able-bodied spacers are still ready for action.
"Great. Split up into two-man teams and take out the trash. They're mindless now, but that doesn't mean they can't kill you in their frenzy. Stay sharp and stay alive!"
And that is how the Tempus landed at Aro Prime Spaceport, accompanied by a captive Red Zorba Alien. Captain Antiss and his crew head directly to the spice hall for a long, long night of feasting. That evening, the captain raises his mug of spice beer. "That 40,000 in salvage will fund us for quite some time. We must be grateful to the aliens. Not only have they made us a small fortune, they have given our ship a name. Gentlemen, I give you ... The CSS INDOMITABLE!
Loud cheers!
"And I've already asked the ship's artist to paint this as our emblem. May all our adventures fare so well. Just remember, lads: No matter how things get, we're Cadar, and Cadar never give in."
Respectfully,
Brian P.
No one notices, in this busy port, as a nondescript Tempus Fugit sets down on docking pad 35. The crew begins to file off heading for the spice hall. Conspicuous among them is a tall man, obviously the captain, and a graybearded old man who is haranguing him. "Make sure you deliver that package to the palace here -- the Cadars'll really appreciate it. And the crew would be happiest if they were doing profitable work..."
At this the captain turns to him. "I'm sorry, but this is as far as you go."
"... come again? "
" I mean that I don't need a first mate to tell me when morale is low or whether I should take contracts or not. So it's best you find another ship. And here, Cadar Prime, is the best place to do it."
The old man's eyes brim a bit with tears, and the captain walks with him to the palace to apply for a new birth. Finally, the mate turns. "I think you'll regret this."
"Perhaps."
The old man continues: "You haven't even named the ship yet. What are you gonna do? Register as the call sign CSS ANONYMOUS? Now there's a manful scheme."
"It's not a concern of yours any longer, I'm afraid. As for the name, I'll give her a name when she's earned it."
57.6: CADAR PRIME
Jobs. jobs... jobs... how about this one to Rychert?
"Naw, we're too broke and too small to tick of any faction."
"This one?"
"Great House Thulun? What part of 'we can't afford to offend anyone' did I not communicate the last time?"
"Fine."
scroll...scroll... scroll ...
"Well, here we are. This is the ONLY job in the whole starport that isn't explicitly aimed at a faction."
"Deliver to Aro Prime ... $1876 ... well, that's awfully cheap, but I guess we have no choice. Well, this will be our first mission. Let's make it a good one."
And so the Captain rousts the crew from the spice hall, some carrying each other as they are still a bit stupefied. "Stand by to raise ship!"
With a thunder and a blast of recorded music, the Tempus rides a sunflame into orbit. After getting in the groove towards Aro Prime, the Captain settles back "Well, this is it."
"Relax captain, what could go wrong? "
57.9: ARO PRIME ORBIT
"Orbital insertion complete."
"Very well, hail Aro control and get us a vector towards the urban zone. Looks like a fairly trouble-free first delivery..."
"Captain, new radar contact, designated Uniform-1. It is coming around the planet FAST, on an intercept course."
"General quarters. A pirate, perhaps? Maybe a patrol vessel come to inspect us..?"
"We're analyzing the target's energy signature and comparing it with the ESM database... um, Captain?"
"Yes? "
"I think you'd better see this for yourself...."
A bit irked, Captain Antiss steps around the bridge and peers onto the tactical officer's console. The readout is clear and unmistakeable: RED ZORBA ALIEN.
"This is a very poor attempt at a joke. Put yourself down for a week in the torpedo bay."
"It's no joke, Captain. I've rerun the check three times."
Captain Antiss turns to the crew pit. "DECK OFFICER! Give me a cross-check on contact Uniform-1. I'll run it myself. We may have faulty sensors."
The full check takes about 30 seconds.
"I confirm one red zorba alien rounding the planet and closing on an intercept vector."
"Concur, sir." "Concur."
Faced with the unanimous opinion of his crew, the Captain nods. "The contact is authentic. We're about to engage a Red Zorba on our very first mission."
"We're screwed, aren't we? "
"Most likely," The Captain nods, "but we're Cadar, and Cadar never say die."
"Weapons, send them the Cadar Universal Greeting. Helm , get me an emergency escape vector. Break us out of orbit, and we'll lose them in the local gas giant."
"Yes, sir." The 'Cadar Universal Greeting' was a salvo of HK hypersonic torpedoes, each carrying multi-megatons of nuclear death. "Torpedo missed , sir. We're being jammed. The vessel is closing. "
"Keep firing guns and attempt to retreat."
"Ineffective sir! IT'S STILL COMING!"
"Don't panic, man! Keep the guns hot! They haven't got us yet!"
Unfortunately, for all their best efforts, the zorba inexorably overhauls them. There is a clang as the vessels merge, and the sound of plasma torches can be heard as the alien boarding party enters.
"Hull breach! They're boarding us!"
"Fire directly into the alien ship, I don't care if we get damaged in the process!"
"No effect, we can't seem to hit it even when our ships are locked together! I think the aliens are subverting our targeting software!"
"Then I guess, we have no choice."
The Captain, a military officer formerly of Cadar, turns around and opens the case. Out of it he draws a beautiful , gleaming blade -- some who had heard of Templar legend recognized this as the 'Drakos blade'. "My family left this to me. We can't fight or run. So here's what we're going to do. Alien ships are controlled by a single Tyrant. If we can kill it , we can still get out of this alive. I'm going directly into the alien ship, towards their bridge, and I'm going to do my best to slice it into bits. Have the rest of the crew back me up. Nothing matters save getting me, alive, to their brain center."
There follow a very confused, terrifying minutes. Without any real weapons aboard the crew uses mining explosives, wrenches, and anything that comes to hand to fend off the wave of bugs.
The alien interior is bizarre, like the inside of a man's stomach. Hurriedly the crew rushes through the ship, ignored by most of the aliens. Evidently most of the warriors are already aboard the Tempus -- only workers remain, and they pay the team no mind.
At last the team bursts into a central chamber into which what look like nerves lead -- the center of the ship. A vast, many-legged monstrosity rolls down towards them. Captain Antiss dodges deftly , slicing off a leg at a time while the crew shouts, throws objects, and distracts the monster. At last it staggers to the deck, helpless, and the captain stabs it directly in the nerve cluster with one deft thrust of his sword.
the creature's eyes grow dark.
The ship grows dark. The alien insects, which had been quietly going about their tasks oblivious to the battle, suddenly begin shaking , some falling over, others going berserk and running into walls, still others wandering aimlessly.
"Roll call! Who's still here?"
A quick check reveals that half the crew is dead, but 13 able-bodied spacers are still ready for action.
"Great. Split up into two-man teams and take out the trash. They're mindless now, but that doesn't mean they can't kill you in their frenzy. Stay sharp and stay alive!"
And that is how the Tempus landed at Aro Prime Spaceport, accompanied by a captive Red Zorba Alien. Captain Antiss and his crew head directly to the spice hall for a long, long night of feasting. That evening, the captain raises his mug of spice beer. "That 40,000 in salvage will fund us for quite some time. We must be grateful to the aliens. Not only have they made us a small fortune, they have given our ship a name. Gentlemen, I give you ... The CSS INDOMITABLE!
Loud cheers!
"And I've already asked the ship's artist to paint this as our emblem. May all our adventures fare so well. Just remember, lads: No matter how things get, we're Cadar, and Cadar never give in."
Respectfully,
Brian P.
