The RP
WarZone...
Page: 51
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With drives flickering erratically, the helm officer aboard the
Iron Fist makes a critical error. In attempting to turn the Fist yet again
to present the relatively undamaged port gun batteries for a broadside
salvo against the Reluctant, it suffers a major engine malfunction. With
one bank on full thrust while the other is disabled, (partially by that
pesky odd-looking Dreadnought..) the great ship veers horribly off course.
As if in slow motion, it plunges towards the lunar surface... And the entire
scene washes out in a blinding white flash..
The Emperor
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 03:22:33 (MDT)
After regrouping and doing quick repairs to the most severely damaged
systems, the fleet at L5 launches another assault. Forming up into a half
dozen clusters, they accelerate at extremely high velocity, then suddenly
hyperjump to high earth orbit at a position just off the Eastern Seaboard.
The ships adjust their course slightly, then the interlinked tractor beams
release their cargo. In the next instant, each capship veering away at
a different direction to confuse the HVIC defensive fire, they jump back
into hyperspace. The cargo, revealed now as half-dozen derelict and abandonded
capships, fall in an erratic, staggered line towards the planet at great
speed.
The Emperor
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 03:32:49 (MDT)
...From where he sat, very little of the flash from the death of
the Iron Fist reached him, but the sudden shaking and rolling of his own
craft rather got the point across. The explosions from impacting peices
of SSD shakes him around like a penning in a coffe can. He opens a channel
to Jadesfire, his bouncing around the screen probably making her motion
sick rather quickly... How....'s.... thing's on your.... end? ...pauses
every time his head is slammed into one of the 4 walls... I .... think....we...made...
it.... ...He waits for Jadefire's response, trying to find something to
hold on to...
Darva
(Lurker Extrodinaire)
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 03:35:26 (MDT)
The SSD_Insufficiently_Reluctant, being directly over the impact
site, (and being so bloody big) gets a severe whacking from the high velocity
shrapnel expelled by the death of the Fist. With systems shorting out and
malfunctioning left and right, the comm could just barely receive a hail
from the Atypical Malfuntion, let alone respond. Admiral Jadesfire, completely
occupied with trying to keep the Reluctant from joining the Fist in its
fiery grave, curtly nods, then turns away. The ship rocks (and if you can
get a 17.6km long SSD to rock, you've got one MEAN band..) damage control
boards light up like christmas trees.. And then the main blast wave hits.
The SSD is shoved bodily away like a plastic toy resting on a tin cup when
a firecracker goes off inside. Spinning slowly end over end, the great
ship, trailing a million flaming smoke trails, is blasted out of lunar
orbit and drifts towards the sun...
The Emperor
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 03:51:07 (MDT)
Now's as good a time as any to test my theory, fire the modified
HVIC!!! *suddenly a US built Minuteman nuclear ICBM launches out of the
rail gun at incredible speed, within seconds impacting against one of the
larger derelict ships* Results? "Sir, it was successful, only two vessels,
remain, a light cruiser and a..... *gulp* Victory class Star Destroyer."
Fire everything we've got, I don't want so much as a turbolaser turret
getting through. *the Basestars weapons and several HVIC's open up on the
debris falling towards Earth, unfortunately a shield tower from the VSD
manages to make it through the defensive fire.* Give me a trajectory on
that immediately. "Sir, it's headed for Washington D.C.!!" Oh, no big loss
then....... "but si....." Do you have a hearing problem?
Q`res
<[email protected]>
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 04:07:07 (MDT)
Meanwhile, elsewhere, elsewhen..: Magistrate - "Commander, we have
located a matrix drive emission trace within the critical timeline. However,
said trace does not match that of the fugitive's ship nor is it anywhere
within the immediate vacinity of Earth. Upon closer investigation of the
spacetime coordinates immediately surrounding the anomaly, we have been
able to detect traces of the use of temporally displaced technology within
the area in question. We believe the fugitive is nearby." *"Very well,
prepare the search and capture team for temporal displacement."* Commander
Vortex, of the Noid Temporal Police ponders the possible causes by which
a respected academic could turn into such a dangerously deraged individual.
Interfering in the events of the past is the most serious of crimes..
NTP <The
Magistrates>
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 04:47:34 (MDT)
In the future, it will become the most wretched hive of scum an
villiany in the Solar system. Ruled by a pair of powerful beings, it will
have 10x the number of dens of iniquity and folly (casinos) as Las Vegas.
It will become a tourist trap known around the world and off it, catering
to the vilest, most despicable dregs of many species. In the future, it
is called Iron Fist Crater, then later renamed Fist-Fall Crater, then be
coloquially known as The Fistfull of Quarters.. But I digress. That is
for the future. Meanwhile, in the present, in a deep roiling wound on the
face of the moon, strange events are transpiring. For, you see, the Emperor's
Lava-Lamp of Doom is not a unique artefact. It has a long and distinctive
lineage dating back to the distant and murky past. Its antecedents have
caused and been the cause of the rise and fall of mighty empires and kingdoms
and entire civilizations. Hidden in the Emperor's lovechest onboard the
late Iron Fist were two more of that great line. However, they were of
an older, sturdier design. (yeah, they don't make 'em like they used to...)
Now, lying amidst the wreckage strewn about the stark lunar landscape..
an elongated and elaborately designed dark blue bottle pops its cork. Materializing
in a column of bluish smoke, Barbara Eden steps forth for the first time
in decades. Stretching luxuriously, she looks about.. and frowns. "Where
the hell am I??? Last thing I remember, they canceled my show.. and now.."
Spying the wreckage all about.. "I'm gonna kill some TV Network execs if
this is a garbage dump..." Nearby, something resembling an elongated teakettle
begins to vibrate, and a large neon-green Jinn (No, not Qui-Gon) emerges.
"Hey! Jeanie, is that you?? Man, I loved your show.. can I have an autograph?"
Oddly enough, the neon green entity sounds just like Robin Williams high
on prozac.... The two strange beings chat and catch up for a while.. "Yeah,
them Network execs are the worst of the lot. I'd prefer a warlord anyday...
At least you know where you stand with them, know what I mean?", "Yes,
precisely. Sack this city, give me a million naked dancing girls, that
sort of thing is easy..".. "Well, what do we do now? Kinda hard to find
a new Master on this desolate dirtball...Pah, who needs em anyway?", "Oh,
don't worry" says Jeanie. "We'll think of something to attract a few people
here....."... Eventually, they pull up a pair of ATST heads, sit on them,
and start playing poker... And the rest, as they say, is History!
Narrator
<HISTORY IN THE MAKING>
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 05:56:01 (MDT)
Jadesfire thumbs the control to the comm, growling something about
relative velocities to the _Atypical Malfunction_, as well as a recommendation
they leave the immediate area. Jadesfire picks up a mechanical spider by
the legs, send her most vehement don't-piss-me-off-any-more-or-you'll-be-looking-for-your-intestines-over-a-six-mile-area
glare at it, which is of course completely lost on the mechanical being.
Sighing, she elucidates. "I want all of your "people" to get to work on
the engines, except a few which I'd like to work on the hull integrity...we're
leaking slowly. Otherwise I'll manually reprogram you with a very angry
badger. Got that? Good." Igniting her lightsaber, Jadesfire deactivates
the bridge force-fields and engages in a gleeful massacre of the Horrors
trapped there. "I don't need any distractions....." Sitting down again
and closing her eyes, the Admiral attempts to nudge the _Insufficiently
Reluctant_ back into lunar orbit, but managing only a parabolic course
for Venus.....
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 06:23:14 (MDT)
Heave! Ho! Heave! Ho! Heave! Ho! Clanking about on magnetized threads
over the vast torn-up surface of the SSD, a lone tank, thoroughly lost,
wanders in circles looking for an airlock. Within, hundreds of spiders
curse in binary as they heave on hundreds of little levers connected to
tiny cogwheels which are now manually cranking the tank's axle. They would
have used the diesels, if there was air. They would have made an electric
motor, if there was enough copper wiring. Besides, they'd need a generator
as well.. So, with no other options, they cannibalized every shred of electronics
on board, multiplied like bunnies in a viagra factory, and were enslaved
by the deraged Klingon in a press-gang. Thank goodness, there is no gravity
in space.. as the tank manages to crawl over the brim edge, skirt a large
air-leak spurting like a gyser, and starts towards the far distant starfighter
hangars while clanking along upsidedown..
Narrator
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 08:13:23 (MDT)
So which SSD am I crawling along this time?
TDK
- Thursday,
August 12, 1999 at 10:44:37 (MDT)
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