Game 2Game 2 Outline| Game 2 |
Game 2 Outline |
You wake up in a cold sweat to the sound of the general alarm, swearing off that native chili-like dish the base commander seems so fond of as you slip into your armour and activate the com system, hiting the 'Call Ops' button.
"What's going on up there, Commander?" you ask, holstering your sidearm and removing the com headset from it's receptacle, the computer automatically transferring the line to it once you have it on.
"Seems a few of the locals have finally caught on to who's been raiding their loot, Sir. We have a fairly large cavalry force moving on our position, estimate 5 battlegroups, 3 hours away."
"'Rim troops, I'll bet. Bet they were pissed when they found their hard-won spoils of war were being re-liberated", you muse, chuckling to yourself as you leave your quarters. Enroute for the command center, you idly nod to several passing officers and marines. "Retract the bridges and triple the troops on the walls, light weapons only; no need to waste money. And have a couple squads of snipers get up on the spire in case they've brought any of those damned priests with them. They've proven troublesome for the raiding parties; I don't want to take any chances with the primary complex."
"Aye, Sir", he replies as you reach the command center, taking your position in the center seat.
"Give me a full report", you say, looking over the various displays around the room.
"Edward's Ridge outpost has reported approximately 1250 native cavalry aproaching from the south, positively ID'd as Cy'et Rim military. No indications of high ranking officers or preists. All stations report combat ready, and the first trench bridges have been retracted. 150 marines have been posted on the walls, all carrying AK-47s, while three sniper teams are standing by on the spire"
"Good. Those medieval marsupial dogs'll be dead before they know what hit them." Leaning back, you reminisce about what brought you here; discovering your ability to control the dormant portals between realities, finding this primitive world, then rounding up a few old military buddies to pull a few raids. From there, it just seemed to come natural, your small empire firmly established on several worlds. Nowadays, trade was even beginning to outdo conquest as the primary source of income...
A sudden explosion shakes the building, interrupting your thoughts, "What the hell was that?!" you demand.
"Looks like several priests managed to sneak up on us; tossing fireballs. Snipers are firing; looks like they've got some kind of shield ..."
A massive streak of pink lightning blinds the screen displaying the attack, the resulting thunder cutting the Commander off. But those concerns are quickly driven from your mind as a blinding white pain erupts behind your eyes and you lose conciousness, darkness consuming your perception.
Written by Wolfius (edited by wanderer)
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