Active Plots (Alphabetical) - Updated 8/21/2010

Can't I Have Any Time? - (Eruantion Doriath [?], Amonost Doriath [?])

End of Solitude - (Verda Stelo [?])

No More Grape Soda - (Alex Dean [?], Samuel Jorgenson [?], Leon Mecheeto [?])

Questionable Means - (Tawny Black [?], Ishkan Ma'z)

Author	Comment
Short Billy Gold Captain and Crew of the Frozen Chicken Pirate Dominion Master 11/11/2006 1:22:06 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 21	Bad Choice of Vacation Spots Short Billy's ruined ship is chugging near the moon of Wist. Warning lights have been flashing since he was in the Blizzard System. Mr. Mozart is scanning the moon for identification beacons. He gets a weak signal identifying it as Wist; he communicates as such to Billy. The signal fades out. Mr. Mozart grumbles and pulls up Borkipedia on one of the still-working computers. He looks up Wist and finds that it is habitable with earth-like climates and is home to a modern civilization. It is a notable vacation spot because of its natural beauty as well as the interesting architecture of the inhabitants. A foot note mentions that there has been no communication with the people of it for a couple interstellar years. The web browser suddenly accesses protected memory and crashes the computer totally. Mr. Mozart shuts down the computer and looks at Billy. Billy: Arr... I wonder if we could stop an' make some repairs here. Warning signals shriek suddenly, making Billy nearly wet himself. He makes a mental note to use the restroom soon. Mr. Mozart tries to read system status indicators, but they've all failed. Billy: ARR!! WE BE GOIN' DOWN!! BRACE YESELVES!!! Whimpering, Mr. Mozart lies down and covers his eyes with his front paws. Billy grips the console. His ship plummets unceremoniously toward the surface of the moon. The ship crashes through the stormy atmosphere, thick gray clouds smashing against it. Billy pulls back on the steering wheel, but it snaps off. He gives it a look of bewilderment as the ship collides with the ground amidst a vast, ruined city, throwing up a giant wave of mud. The atmosphere containment field finally fails, and the pouring rain immediately soaks the deck and the ship's crew of two. Short Billy and Mr. Mozart sigh. A squad of giant men wearing war-torn, solid steel armor and toting enormous battle rifles quickly board the ship. Short Billy gives them one look, his eyes widen, and he throws up his hands. Billy: WE SURRENDER! ARR!! Huge, gristly man: You shouldn't have come anywhere near this moon. You need to get out of here. Come with us. Two jet-fighter-sized aircraft fly by, creating a sonic boom. The squad of hefty men all get low quickly. The aircraft fire missiles into another part of the ruined city. The squad of men stand back up. The leader turns briefly to Short Billy. Leader: Come with us if you want to live. The squad rushes down the boarding ramp. Short Billy and Mr. Mozart decide to follow after hearing the sound of the missiles finding their target. After making their way into a denser part of the city, the squad, Short Billy, and Mr. Mozart duck into an alley. The leader gets on the com with his commander. Leader: Command, we've picked up an unfortunate off-world visitor who crash-landed here. Mr. Mozart can't hear the other end of the conversation. He stares out into the street, making note of how creepy the place looks. There doesn't seem to be any other life around. Billy: Arrrr.... Methinks Borkipedia be lyin'. Leader: Roger that, command. He flips a switch on his com and turns to his squad. Leader: Let's go, team. We're taking our visitor back to base. The squad moves out of the alley and back onto the narrow street with Billy and Mozart in tow. All that is audible is the rain striking the cobblestone streets and stone rooftops and the creaking noises of the large men's equally large body armor. Two garbage cans suddenly fly out of an alley and land in the street with a nerve-grating crash. Huge man: Grimlins! The squad opens fire on three creatures bounding out of the alleyway. After the blinding muzzle flashes subside, the now-hole-riddled corpses of the sickly creatures can be seen lying motionless on the ground. They're about three feet long with thin appendages and plenty of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. Billy's brow wrinkles. Billy: Arr, what be "grimlins"? None of the soldiers even look at Billy. They continue on down the street, scanning the area. One speaks up. Man: They're basically cannonfodder for the Rippov. They generally attack in swarms and overwhelm their targets. Alone, they're not that spectacular. Because there is nary a moment's rest, an engine can be heard approaching slowly. The squad stop dead in their tracks and turn around to face the sound. Man: Hey, it's a Puma. Leader: ... But it's not on our side. The vehicle slowly emerging from the mist is indeed one of the Wist Marines' "Puma" all-terrain vehicles, but it is battered and occupied by ugly suckers. The large creature in beat-up armor atop the turret spots the squad of Marines and opens fire. They all dive for cover, the Marines returning fire. One of them arms a grenade and heaves it at the approaching vehicle. It doesn't land quite where he intended, but it's in a good enough position to blow apart the front right wheel, effectively disabling the vehicle. The leader gets a lucky head shot on the gunner. Leader: GO! The Marines fall back, covering each other. Short Billy and Mr. Mozart just run down the street. They all turn a corner to get out of the enemy's line of sight. They run through a few back alleys, being jumped by a grimlin in one, and come to a dead end. There is a single wooden door into the back of a bombed-out coffee shop. The Marines switch their under-barrel flashlights on as the leading Marine bashes the door in with his shoulder and clear the place. The place is dead. They find a couple gibbed and fried human corpses. One of the Marines makes a disgusted grunt. They make their way to the front of the small shop and step through the blown-out storefront window out onto another cobblestone street. Up ahead is what appears to be a municipal building--city hall perhaps. There are add-on armor doors that don't match at all and Marines standing guard all around the rubble-littered perimeter. A couple tanks and several Pumas are manned by Marines this time and standing at the ready. Helicopters are taking off and landing on the roof. The squad of Marines followed by Billy and Mr. Mozart mosey on up the stairs and are granted access to the building. A grizzly, callous man with a flat top chomping on a short, long-dead cigar stomps over to the squad. Grizzly, callous man with a flat top--AKA Sarge: What the frag are you doing back so soon, Juarez?! Did you finish your mission?! The squad leader, Reno Juarez, glares at "Sarge." Juarez: We had orders from command to escort a civilian who had the misfortune of crashing on this rock back here. We're re-deploying immediately. Sarge: You'd frigging better, Lieutenant, or I'll have your worthless butt back in the brig before you can mutter "ooh-rah." Reno turns and walks away with a dismissing motion of his hand. Once the sarge is out of earshot, another Marine in the squad, Alex James, speaks up. Alex: What a xylophone. Reno turns to Short Billy and points toward a woman behind a desk. Reno: Go talk to her. She can get you to a place with the other refugees. Billy shrugs, and he and Mozart head to the desk. The Marines make their way to the armory to reload. Billy steps up to the desk. Woman: Another refugee, huh? Billy: Arr... I be Short Billy Gold, pirate extraordinaire. The woman cocks an eyebrow. Woman: Please follow the signs to your left. She points to some signs set up that read "REFUGEES" with large arrows. Billy and Mozart begin following the arrows on the signs. They're eventually directed by some workers to a room filled with refugees. Blankets, pillows, radios, and other odds and ends litter the floor. Billy: Hmm... I suppose we won't get the Frozen Chicken repaired anytime soon... and I really need to pee. Mr. Mozart doggy sighs. Short Billy searches for a toilet.
The Many All of Us Dominion Master 11/11/2006 2:32:45 PM Level: 802 Experience: 2147483647 Total Posts: 19	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots A CP3 Vexxer transport cruiser, occupied by a Malcolm Griggs, clumsily crashes through the stormy atmosphere, thick gray clouds smashing against it. Below the clouds, a jet-fighter-sized aircraft comes in on his tail. It fires two missiles. Malcolm's engines are totalled and the ship depressurizes through the large hole in the hull. It dips into a nose-dive toward a ruined city. More specifically, the roof of a hotel. A few seconds later, it crashes hard through the roof. The building happens to be heavily reinforced, so the ship is stopped three floors down in the ten story hotel. A few minutes later, a ragtag group of men and women with rifles enters the Vexxer through the big ol' hole in the rear. Malcolm grumbles at the damage to his ship. The cockpit managed to remain relatively undamaged. The cockpit door opens and a huge man in Ellixan Iron Guard power armor enters, rifle shouldered and aimed at Malcolm's head. Malcolm looks over his shoulder. Malcolm: Great. The huge man calls back to the group in the rear of the ship. Huge man: It's human. Malcolm: Last I checked. He grits his teeth and releases the seat, sliding back and upright. He stands up. Huge man: Why did you come to this he--...Mal? Malcolm lets out a low grunt which is supposed to be some kind of laugh. Malcolm: Jack. The huge man, Jack, lowers his rifle and steps back, allowing Malcolm to exit the cockpit. Malcolm proceeds to don his Iron Guard armor. Jack: Why are you here? This place is a mess. You don't want to be here. Malcolm: Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly my choice to get shot down as soon as I entered the atmosphere. He finishes buckling on the last piece of the armor and grabs his pulse rifle off a pile of greasy clothing. He looks over at Jack's group, who are all quite obviously not Ellixan. They're wearing shoddy body armor and plain clothing. Malcolm: What's going on in this slaghole? Jack: I'll explain while we get out of here. We need to exfiltrate now before they get here. I assume you'll come with us. Malcolm: Yeah. Malcolm grabs a large holster and straps it on his thigh, placing a P80 in it before following Jack and his group out of the wreckage. Jack: Two years ago, some freaks came out of nowhere. Ugly sons of... He stops and makes a hand signal to get down. There is ample rubble around the hall to take cover behind, so everybody does. Two small, sickly-looking creatures, about three feet long, are creeping around on all fours. One of them appears to be sniffing the floor. The other stands up and looks around, sniffing the air. Jack signals to one of his team members to take one out on his mark. Three... two... The creature standing on its hind legs screeches, slaps the other one on the back, and turns to run. Jack jumps up and rips off a three round burst into it. The other one only has time to wonder what's going on before the other man jumps up and scores a headshot. They both take cover and wait a few seconds. Jack motions to move on. They all jump up and move quickly toward the stairwell that the creatures came from. Jack: Those were their scouts, creeplings. There are probably more in the building, so keep quiet. The rest of the team seems a little shaky after the encounter with the creeplings. The stairwell appears bombed out. There's a pile of flaming rubble on top a dead creepling on the downward stairs. There are heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Jack: Slag. Reapers. Everybody go up. He grabs a grenade from a satchel at his waist, arms it, and drops it down the stairwell. He then follows the group up the stairs. Three floors up, Malcolm kicks open the roof door and exits quickly, clearing the rooftop, and finds the fire escape. It's rusty and would probably break under his weight. Malcolm: Jack! We got a problem! Jack catches up and looks at the fire escape. Jack: Crud. Everybody go, you know the way to HQ. Mal and I can handle ourselves. The team wastes no time climbing down the fire escape. Malcolm covers the alley while they go down, while Jack holds the door closed. Jack feels a slam against the door. The rest of the team has escaped. Jack presses a grenade against the doorframe. As the door opens slightly from a reaper on the other side banging on it, Jack shoves the grenade in. He waits two seconds and gets away from the door. It blows open. A huge, pale humanoid in strange armor flies out, followed by another falling out with much less force. Four others are scattered around the landing of the stairwell. Jack: Let's move! They head into the stairwell. This won't be fun. Malcolm rips his BayoSaw to life and takes the lead, charging down the stairs, releasing a terrifying warcry. Before the first group of reapers they encounter knows what hit them, he has eviscerated the team leader and the one behind him, and ripped a burst of plasma through the remainder. Hardly slowing, they continue. Malcolm rams the BayoSaw into the chest of another reaper. It bares it teeth and roars, so he double taps it and pulls the saw out before ramming his armored shoulder into it, sending its corpse rolling down the stairs, tripping another one coming up behind it. Jack mows down two more on the next landing. After mowing down (literally, in Malcolm's case) four more and reaching the fifth floor, a roar resonates through the stairwell, followed by the grumbling and growling that is the language of the Rippov, and the sound of their retreating bootsteps. Jack: Wait. Malcolm stops and turns to him. Jack leans over the railing and listens intently. Jack: They don't retreat. Malcolm: They've got something huge down there, no doubt. Jack: No doubt they brought a turret in out front. They'll be hosing down the entire lobby as soon as they see us. Malcolm: So call in reinforcements. Jack: Psssh. What reinforcements? Those wimps are nothing but cannon fodder. He turns to Malcolm. Jack: Plus our radios barely work within two hundred feet, much less to contact home base. Something those ugly blighters are doing. He looks back down the stairwell. Jack: Anyway, we either need to get real lucky, or manage to sneak through the lobby and get out a back door. Malcolm: If they aren't covering those, too. Jack: The more time we waste talking, the more time they have to plan our demise. Let's get moving. Malcolm nods and they proceed to run down the stairs, skipping every other step. At the bottom of the stairwell, the door had been blown clean off its hinges. There are bodies lying around the lobby that obviously started decaying long ago. It looks nasty. The two men make note of the fact that there is almost no light inside, and the front of the building--almost entirely glass, other than the frames--is somewhat tinted. Couches, rubble, a cabinet, and the husk of a TV are scattered around, offering some cover given they move quickly. With any luck, they wouldn't be spotted from outside. Jack: We're gonna have to stay low and move quickly. One at a time. Go. Malcolm bends down and moves behind an overturned couch. He peeks out from behind it. There's a huge, quad-gun turret outside with a reaper sitting in the center of the guns. Malcolm: ...Great. He low-crawls to a partially collapsed marble pillar, stops, and listens. His body isn't being torn apart by gunfire yet. That's a good sign. He makes it to another couch, the TV husk, and finally into a hallway with no windows. He stands up against the wall and waves Jack over. Several minutes later, Jack makes it safely to the other hall. They move down the hall and around a corner. At the end of the hall is a deformed emergency door that hasn't been able to latch in two years. They run to it. Jack takes the lead and peers out the door. Jack: Clear. He opens it wider and they step out. Jack looks up, the muzzle of his rifle following. There's nothing up there. He looks toward the end of the alley, where Malcolm is looking out into the street. Jack: Follow me. I know my way around. Malcolm nods. They sprint across the street, staying low, and enter another alley. After a few corners and crossing a few more streets, they wind up in another alley with a step down to the door of an old-looking shop. Jack jiggles the knob quickly, pulls out a key, and unlocks it. They step into the very dark building, and Jack closes and locks the door behind them. They enter the bathroom, where all of the stalls have had steel plating put up on the inside from floor to ceiling. Inside the second stall is a large hole in the floor leading directly into the sewer. They drop into it and begin through the sewer channel. Quite a way down, there's a slightly smaller channel branching off, which is covered, again, with thick steel. A door is built into the wall with no way to open it from this side. Jack knocks a pattern on it, and moments later, it opens. Malcolm sees that the woman who opened the door was with the group that escaped the hotel. Further inside are two large mounted machine guns pointed at the door. Woman: Oh, thank God. They step inside and the woman quickly closes the heavy door, sealing it with a wheel and barring it with two steel bars. They talk as they walk down the passage. Woman: J.J. and Pete were about to gather up a team and go looking for you. Jack: Everybody made it back safely? Woman: We got jumped by a creepling and it slashed Will pretty good, but he'll be fine. He blew its jaw right off with his pistol. She laughs nervously. Woman: The street by the barber shop was loaded with reapers when we were leaving, so we had to cut around Karlson Street and go the long way back. Jack nods. They climb up a ladder and into a well-lit concrete building. There's another man manning a mounted machine gun pointed at the ladder well. Woman: The Furries got back while you were gone. The highway's gotten worse since our last recon. She sounds grave. Woman: They brought in a grizzly. Jack: Peachy. They end up in a recreational room, equipped with two couches, some books, a TV, an Xbox, and a ping pong table. Jack turns to Malcolm. Jack: Might as well make yourself comfortable. After taking off their armor, they plop down on separate couches. Jack: So here's how it is. Two years ago, they came. Outta no where. I don't even remember how we know their names. We call 'em the Rippov, regardless. No idea where they came from. As far as we can figure, they'll settle for nothing less than complete genocide of everybody that lived on this moon. Then they'll probably move on to some other world. He sighs. Jack: Two months ago, they blocked off the only highway outta here. We've been stuck in this city since then. We've still got plenty of supplies, but we're not getting anything done. We've been scrounging where we can. He turns to the woman. Jack: Deb, couldja get me the guide book? Woman: Oh, yeah. She leaves the room. Jack: We've been writing down info on the bad guys. You saw the creeplings and reapers, but it gets worse. Debbie returns with a leather binder and hands it to Jack. He opens it, flips through the papers, and hands it to Malcolm. There are several photographs of some kind of thirty foot-tall thing. It very vaguely resembles the reapers, but much larger, and with patches of fur in various places, and it has large guns strapped to its arms and shoulders. Jack: We call those grizzlies. Huge suckers. Basically living tanks. At least one of those is up the highway. Turn the page. Malcolm turns the page. There's a single bad picture of a cat-like creature. Jack: That's a zorish. They're not Rippov, but the Rippov have employed them to clear out places they don't want to go themselves. Thousands of them in the forests all around the city. They're quiet and fast. Tore out one of my men's jugular veins before he even knew it was there. The rest of us barely made it out. Malcolm: Sounds like the perfect vacation spot.
Eruantion Doriath Fighter Pilot/Bounty Hunter Dominion Master 11/14/2006 12:19:45 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 157	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots Eruantion steps into a makeshift office in the command center and stands at attention. A black AK47 is slung around his shoulder and hanging down across his chest. His PX4 Storm is holstered at his side, and his Glock knife is in a shoulder holster on his right shoulder. He is dressed in somewhat tight black clothing with an outter layer of black painted armor. Eruantion: You called for me, Sir? Man: At ease, Eru. He then stood up and went over to a cabinet in the corner, grabbed a cigarette and lit it. Man: I need to you take a team to search for Alpha team that left a while ago. They were supposed to be back by now but aren't. They were last headed towards the old school in the center of town. Eruantion: Alright, I will get a team together and head out. Man: Good luck. Eruantion headed towards the other side of the base camp and found his brother Amonost having a cold cup of coffee with their team members. Eruantion filled them in quickly on the mission, and they all geared up and walked towards to exit to start their mission. Jeremy: *Stepping out into the dim sunlight.* Well, are you guys slaggin' ready? Eruantion: *Raising an eyebrow to the sky.* Are we ever? Eru and Amon had come to Wist a couple months earlier in search for a bounty. When they arrived, they realized that things were not as anyone had really expected. They found a camp in one of the cities and volunteered to help in the struggle against the Rippov.
Short Billy Gold Captain and Crew of the Frozen Chicken Pirate Dominion Master 11/14/2006 1:26:29 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 21	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots Reno Juarez and his team are passing through a relatively quiet part of town. Radio: Juarez, come in. Juarez? Reno grabs his receiver with a heavy sigh. Reno: What is it? Radio: We need you to link up with Charlie teams one, two, and three ASAP for an assault on a Rippov post at Nav Papa. Reno: Roger that. Reno checks his navigation device for directions. Alex: So much for the mission. Another Marine, Blane, smirks. Blane: Sarge is goin' t' be upset. Alex: "Upset"? Reno: Let's go. They take off down a side street. Radio: Juarez, heads up. You're coming up on a large group of grunts and two ihbrims. Grunts are the ugly suckers they met shortly before on a stolen Marine Puma. Ihbrims are the walking tanks. Radio: They're moving north-east. Do not engage them. Proceed to Nav Papa. Reno: Copy that. Will not engage enemy. The Marines turn off the street and head into a bombed-out building in an attempt to go around the rear of the enemy force. Unfortunately, the trip is cut short as the floor caves in and plunges them into pitch blackness. Reno rolls onto his back, grunting. Reno: Status! All but one of them switch on their weapon lights. Blane: I'm good. Mendez: Same here. Alex: Ugh. My light's busted. Blane looks up. They must've fallen forty feet. Blane: What the heck is this place? There is a gurgle. Reno turns to the noise in time to see a grimlin flying through the air straight toward him. He double-taps it, and its corpse lands on him. He smacks it away. The ground begins rumbling at regular intervals. The Marines scan the pitch black room. Suddenly, one wall explodes in a cloud of dust and wood splinters. An ihbrim steps through, roaring. The Marines instantly open fire to no effect. It's too close for it to use missiles, so it switches to guns. It fires a burst toward the Marines, making glancing hits to their armor. Easily frustrated, it swats at them, catching Alex and sending him across the room. Mendez: I found a door--over here! Reno: Alex, you okay?! Alex groans, but his footsteps can be heard closing in. Reno eventually finds him with his light. Reno: Let's go! The ihbrim roars and fires another burst. Wood and concrete particles zip around the room. The Marines make it through the door into a wine cellar. There is a single small vent allowing in some light from outside. They find a stairwell that has collapsed, and it appears to have been the only way out. They attempt to scale it anyhow. The ihbrim breaks through the wall, but the cellar's ceiling is too low. The ihbrim can be seen for the next few stories up. A solid steel door on the other side of the cellar was overlooked by the Marines. The cover over a slot in it moves aside. A voice calls out to them from beyond it. Voice: You guys Marines?! Reno: Who's that? Voice: Over here, quick. The man opens the door. The Marines run over and enter, the man closing it behind them. Man: This leads to the sewers. I heard the ruckus and came to check it out. He is wearing raggedy clothing and carrying a battered AK47, the finish almost completely gone. A home-made AK mag bandolier decorates his chest. Reno: Thanks. We need to get out of here--north. The man thinks for a second. He then points down a dark hall. Man: That way is a northward exit. Reno: Thanks. The Marines head that way, the aggitated roars of the ihbrim fading off into the distance...
The Many All of Us Dominion Master 11/14/2006 11:51:09 AM Level: 802 Experience: 2147483647 Total Posts: 19	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots Having left the room about fifteen minutes ago while Malcolm and Jack talk about pretty much useless stuff, Debbie runs into the room suddenly. She looks excited. Debbie: Jack!! Jack jumps up off the couch, alert. He then realizes she looks excited and calms down. Debbie: Cam's team just got back, and he has great news. Hurry! Jack hurries out, following Debbie. Malcolm gets up and just walks, following them. A minute later, in a small room with rows of metal folding chairs in the back and a large folding table full of junk up front, Debbie hits a button on the wall. Alert lights throughout the building start flashing, informing everybody to get to the briefing room. A minute later, about twenty other people are in the room. When Jack and Debbie seem to acknowledge that everyone has arrived, Malcolm finally registers how pathetic this really is. A man in full soldier gear, Cameron Neilssen, walks up to the front of the room. Cameron: Gentlemen. One hour ago, my team and I assaulted a small Rippov establishment on the northeast side of town. We caught them with their pants down and wiped the place clean with no problem and acquired several weapons. But... that's not even the good part. Also in the building was a Rippov communications array. We managed to send a short message on several frequencies stating what city we're in and that we need help, but I think that if we can get back there, we can directly contact the Marines again and finally get out of this hole. There's a cacophony of excited hollering. Jack: What are you waiting for? Get your team and let's move out! Cameron: Hooah, sir! Jack stands up and dismisses the congregation. Six men head up to the front of the room while the rest clear out. Cameron: Gear up, guys. Time to save our sorry butts. Hooah! Men: Hooah! The men leave the room to get geared up. Cameron still has his still-hot G3KA4 slung. Cameron: I assume you'll be accompanying us, sir. Jack: Dang right. I'm not going to let this slip through our hands. Jack leaves the room to get his armor. Cameron looks at Malcolm. Cameron: You're new here. Ellixan? Malcolm nods. Cameron holds out his hand. Malcolm shakes it. Cameron: Name's Cameron Neilssen. Malcolm: Malcolm Griggs. Cameron: Boosts morale whenever we find another fighter. Lord knows how much we could use it. Malcolm nods. Malcolm: As long as I'm on for the ride, I might as well go see this communication device. Cameron: Glad to hear it. If you need any weapons or gear, ask Deb. She can get you to the armory. When you're ready, just come back here. Malcolm nods again and leaves the room, heading back for the rec room to get his guns and armor.
Eruantion Doriath Fighter Pilot/Bounty Hunter Dominion Master 11/14/2006 1:28:19 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 157	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots Eruantion, Amonost, Jeremy, Abe, and Liz moved through the streets slowly, moving from cover to cover. They had roughly five miles to walk to get to the school, and at this rate they were hoping to get there by dusk. The sun dissapeared behind rain clouds as they made their way down Burban St., and five minutes later rain started to drizzle down. Abe: This is just freakin' great. Amonost: Trully. They continued forward for another hour, without any problems. They were still a couple of miles from the school, and the rain was pouring down now. Jeremy stopped suddenly. Jeremy: You hear that? Amonost: Pachees. Let's MOVE people! They all took off for the closest building and slammed into the door, breaking it down and going to the rear of the building. A few seconds later three flying Rippov zoomed by the front door. Several minutes passed, and Eruantion slowly stood back up and moved over towards the busted door. Eruantion: I think they are gone. Amonost: They'll be back. Eruantion: No telling when, but they will be. Keep your ears peeled. They all headed back out into the street and looked around in the sky. They saw nothing, but they were all still on edge. They picked up their pace to a slow jog and continued towards the school, very warily. Ten minutes later they heard the Pachees again, and took cover in and under burned out vehicles. Two minutes later, they did another fly by. Jeremy: They know we're around. Liz: But they don't know where... yet.
The Many All of Us Dominion Master 11/14/2006 2:08:06 PM Level: 802 Experience: 2147483647 Total Posts: 19	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots Malcolm arrives in the rec room, where Jack is just sitting on the couch, already geared up. Malcolm proceeds to don his armor in silence. A minute later, Jack speaks up. Jack: You know, I act optimistic for their sake. To be honest, without me, they'd all just be sitting around waiting to die. I have to keep them going. I don't expect that we'll get anything out of the comm array Cam found, but if I told them that, they wouldn't even try. Malcolm looks at him. He grabs his pulse rifle and continues looking at Jack for a moment. Malcolm: You're getting soft. Let's go kick some butt. Jack looks up at him. Another silent moment passes. Jack: Yeah. Jack grabs his very large rifle and they head back to the briefing room. Cameron and his team are already there. Cameron: There's a small branch north in the sewer so we won't have to cut through occupied streets. It'll bring us up four blocks from the office building. The only problem is there's a rip hole a little ways past the branch, so we need to be careful not to be seen down here. Jack: Noted. Let's move out. They head to the sewer entrance and check the cameras. Seems clear. Jack points at the man manning the door. Jack: Open it up-- Cameron: Wait! Quiet! He's looking intently at the monitor. Cameron: DIRT. Why did they drop zorishes down here? Jack hurries back over to the monitor and looks at it. Sure enough, a pack of the cat-like creatures in the guide book are running through the sewer. Cameron shakes his head. He turns to Jack. Cameron: Sir, if we don't get in contact with the Marines and get some reinforcements, the Rippov will find us. Sean Caldwell: Maybe they don't actually know we're using the sewers. Maybe it's a preventative measure. Jack: We can hope.
Short Billy Gold Captain and Crew of the Frozen Chicken Pirate Dominion Master 11/16/2006 10:07:41 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 21	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots The Marines head down the dark hall and come to a passage into the sewer. The solid steel door had been mangled and sheared right off the hinges. It was lying nearby. Alex glances at it and whistles. They cautiously enter the passage, watching for anything ready to leap from the darkness. Nothing does. Life is boring for now. They travel through the winding tunnels and eventually come to a dead end. A rusty ladder leads up to a manhole. They each climb it and reach street-level. Radio: Juarez, what is your status? Reno: En route to the objective. We had to take a detour. Radio: Cancel the order and return to base immediately. The Rippov are launching an attack in full force from everywhere. Reno: Copy that. Alex: Where the heck are we, anyway? Reno consults his navigation device. Reno: We're smack in the center of town. A terrible screeching noise echoes off the ruined buildings. It was the pachees. The Marines head to a burnt out building for cover. Reno begins to push the door open, but it falls off its hinges with a nerve-wracking clatter. They rush inside only to meet more Marines. Eruantion: Are you Alpha team? Reno shakes his head negatory. The pachees fly by, still unable to locate the Marines. Everybody's radios hum to life. Radio: All teams, return to base immediately. Full force Rippov assault in progress. I repeat, return to base immediately. Jeremy: What about Alpha team? Eru: I guess they'll have to wait. Mendez shows some interest. Mendez: Which alpha? Eru: Alpha Three. Mendez: Hmm... Reno (Deadpan): If they're not in radio contact, they're probably already dead. Everybody had the same thought in the backs of their minds. Reno: Let's get back to base. Reno and Eru peek outside at the sky. No pachees can be seen. The two Marine teams exit the building when their radios start buzzing and hissing. A voice can barely be heard through the noise. Eru grabs his receiver. Eru: This is Doriath. Can you hear me? Radio: -- the--bakery-- Reno walks over to a nearby bakery shop and kicks down the door, clearing the room. A Marine is sitting on the floor and leaning against a wall with a radio receiver in his hand. His rifle is lying on the floor next to him and his armor is badly damaged. The Marine's arms go limp and he looks up at the entering Marines. Eru: Are you with Alpha Three? Marine: I'm all that's left of it. Don't go down there. With his head, he motions toward the open cellar door. Marine: Huge freaking rip hole. Eru and Reno help the Marine up. He is unable to stand, so he leans on their shoulders. Jeremy: Abe an' I will bring him back. The rest of you get back to base. Amonost: I don't think so. None of you guys are main characters. You'll be slaughtered. Abe, you go. I'll help Jeremy. Everybody gives Amonost looks as if he had just said the oddest thing in the universe. Abe shrugs. Abe: All right. Amonost trades places with Abe. The rest of the Marines start running back to base. The streets are oddly deserted; apparently every Rippov is attacking the command center. Well, all except those bothersome pachees. They come screaming down the street, finally finding their prey. The Marines all dash for cover, firing up at the flying creatures. They're incredibly difficult to hit thanks to their small size and agility. Abe growls, pulling out a sawed-off Mossberg 590, and shoots some skeet. A pachee takes a hit and plummets into the ground, dead. Another one dive-bombs Mendez. He slices and dices it with his BayoSaw rifle attachment. The noise awakens more pachees from inside a building; they fly out a blown-out window and join the attack on the Marines. Alex: This is ridiculous. Reno fires a burst center-of-mass into a pachee flying right toward him. It falls short. Abe blasts a couple more out of the sky before he is empty. The last one swoops down and grasps Blane, slamming him into a building before he can react. He falls ten feet and lands face-down on the street. Blane: Ugh... Kill that xylophone! Abe finishes reloading and blasts the final pachee out of the air. He holsters his shotgun and they continue running down the street. Radio: All teams, use extreme caution when approaching base. Rippov numbers are overwhelming. Twenty minutes later, the Marines round a corner, and Reno and his team recognize the building with the now-non-existant floor. The ihbrim from earlier steps out of the building's shadow. Reno: ... Frag. Alex: Ignore it--we gotta move! The Marines attempt to run past it, but ihbrims can be fast when they want to be. It swipes at Alex, sending him flying into a pile of rubble again. Eru grabs the rocket launcher hanging on his back and takes aim at the ihbrim. He fires at its head. The ihbrim roars, clutching its face. The Marines use the chance to run past it, leaving it in the dust once again. Eru throws the empty rocket launcher aside and grabs his radio receiver. Eru: Amon, don't go down Yerl Avenue. There's an ihbrim there. Amonost: Lovely. It shall be avoided. Thirty minutes later, from atop a hill, they can see the government building that is their command center being pounded by the Rippov attack. Eru furls his brow. Eru: Slag. That's not good. They make their way down the hill on the final stretch of road to the command center. Rippov fighters are pouring out of every crevice. They come to a team of grunts whom are soon squashed flat by a Puma full of shouting Marines. Driver: YEEEEEEEEEEEHAW! Get in, people, we're headed back to base! YEAH! Reno's and Eru's teams pile onto the already-crowded vehicle. It peels out and flies down the street, mounted minigun blazing as if there was an infinite amount of ammunition stored in the crate on the floorboard.
The Many All of Us Dominion Master 11/17/2006 11:25:41 PM Level: 802 Experience: 2147483647 Total Posts: 19	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots They all nervously check their chambers and flip off their safeties. Zorishes are always bad news. The men on the mounted machine guns are visibly preparing themselves to fire at the first sign of movement. The soldiers stack up at the door, preparing to move through it quickly. The man at the door holds out his fingers and counts down. Man: Three! Two! One! GO! He opens the door and the men, led by Jack, hurry out, clearing the immediate area. As soon as the last man--Malcolm--is through the door, it slams shut and they can hear the clanking of their various locks. All of them look carefully in all directions. They are tense. The zorishes have passed and they're safe for the moment. Jack whispers. Jack: Stay quiet and don't let your guard down. Mal, Jose, Marcus, cover our rear. Keep your ears peeled. Let's come out of this with our arteries intact. Let's move. They move quickly, but quietly, down the dark, eerie sewer. It doesn't stink that badly because it hasn't really been used in two years, so it's had plenty of time to be flushed by the seemingly ever-present rain. About fifteen minutes later, they stop. They can see the rip hole quite a way up ahead, with light flooding in through the hole in the ceiling of the sewer, leading all the way to the surface. Cameron: If those zorishes come back this way now, the Rippov on the surface will hear our gunfire. We need to hurry. They pick up their pace and head down the side tunnel, most of them relieved as the rip hole passes out of their sight. Cameron soon points out an empty grenade case near a ladder leading up a manhole, placed as a landmark. Jack: Climb it, people!
Eruantion Doriath Fighter Pilot/Bounty Hunter Dominion Master 11/21/2006 11:10:18 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 157	RE: Bad Choice of Vacation Spots The Puma full of Marines head into the base and the doors are slammed shut behind them. Though it does little good, as Pachees are flying all around at terrifying speeds and dive bombing Marines. The chain guns are starting to overheat with continual use, shooting them out of the sky. Several start flying overhead pouring a vaporous ink into the atmosphere, which jam transmissions. Eru and the others take cover behind some broken down baracades and start firing up in the sky. Before long, someone has the brilliant idea that they are trying to make them waste ammo. The call for cease fire comes, and everyone takes cover. Fairly shortly afterwards, the Pachee's stop flying overhead and land outside the walls. Eruantion tries raising Amonost on the radio, but it's still jammed. Eruantion: *Runs over to a pilot.* Do you think it is possible to get a chopper up in the air to clear the ink? Pilot: I'm not sure... I don't want to take it very high, because I'll get shot down, but I might be able to get it just high enough. Eruantion: Anything would be a help. The pilot runs over to a chopper and starts it up. Several Pachees fly over the wall again, but are taken out in short order. The pilot flies up just above the top of the wall. The air from the helicopter take out a lot of the ink, and make the air a bit clearer. The Rippov realise what he's doing, and start shooting at him, so he has to land rather quickly, but the clear air gives Eruantion enough time to get Amonost a message.

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