"All by myself.... don't wanna be... All By MYSELFF... just need ta be... ALL BY MYSELF... Duet with Precious... ALL BY MYSELF..." 24 hours after evicting everyone from Dome of York and Sid was starting to feel the isolation. Having already sung 18 verses of Henry the 8th, dropping 998 bottles off the wall and having named ever spitwad on the ceiling of his cell, Sid had resorted to duets with Precious. It was not a pleasant experience.
After the duets timing wore off (Precious is a bit tone deaf you see) Sid began patrolling the halls. After that he went to inspect the sleeping DeltaGens. After that he updated his diary for the day (the entire page was covered in the word BORING).
And then he snapped...
He took control of two Defender bots outside and threw a giant ball in between. He then began playing a giant game of Pong with them. When that got boring he started lobbing short range missiles at a nearby cliff, trying to draw a smiley face in it. And when the smiley face turned into a Picasso he started twiddling his thumbs.
And then, at the absolute moment of desperation, when Sid had picked up a bucket of paint, dolloped some on the wall and was getting comfortable to watch it dry, MJS appeared.
"SID!!!" He thundered. The walls shook, the heavens groaned and the sky's darkened. Sid turned to look at him.
"Shhhhh" He then went back to looking at the paint. MJS was naturally dumbfounded. He then kicked Sid in the back of the head and got his attention.
"Okay fine, who are you and why do you want to die so badly?" Sid started reaching for his Holy Pestilence.
"I am The Creator!!!"
"Okay Mr. The Creator, time to die now." And Sid engulfed him in poison. MJS just shook his head in total disbelief and shrugged the poison off. Sid was unamused.
"Oh a tough guy eh? Well put em up!" And Sid put his fists up for a fist fight. MJS raised a single index finger and touched Sid on the chest. He flew through 3 walls and ended up in a poorly cleaned latrine. Then with a snap of his fingers the defiled Sid re-appeared in front of him.
"Dude... you suck."
"SILENCE!!!!" MJS raged. Precious whispered in Sid's ear and he shut up.
"I am MJS," finally Sid understood, "for decades the ruler of Dome of York has served me. As you have quite convincingly seized power, I offer you the same opportunity. Serve me and your power shall grow tenfold. Defy me and watching paint dry will be a welcome break to the misery you shall endure."
"Hmn... so whats the pay like?" MJS sent him back to the latrine for a while. When he returned:
"Okay, geez, not the joke loving type are ya?"
"I'm talking to you aren't I?" (MJS 1, Sid zip)
"May I have a week to think on your offer?" Sid asked.
"I shall grant you this request. I will return this time next week for your answer." MJS turned to go. Sid suddenly spotted a device in the back pocket of MJS's Armani Powerarmour. Just before he vanished, he lunged forward and snatched it out and then MJS was gone.
And so it was that Sid was left all alone with the CEO device. He looked at the long title on the top "Cease Every Operation" and thought on that for...oh... 1 millionth of a second. Cause at that point he noticed it had a big Red Button. His eyes bugged, his mouth watered, and his finger dived for the button. Then he convulsed and with an invisible hand tried to pull his finger away
"Must.... push ... Da ... BUTTON!!!"
"No, no don't push, could be bad!"
"But its big and RED. It Must Be PUSHED!!!"
"It could have terrible effects!!"
"Since when do big Red Buttons do anything bad??" (Big Red Subtitles Slam Down "DUMBEST STATEMENT EVER!!!")
"Hmn... can't argue with that statement." (Big Red Subtitles Slam Down "WE SPOKE TOO SOON!!") And then his finger crashed into the red button and an almost orgasmic look overtook his face. And then the device disapeared. Sid looked at his hands, then he looked at the ceiling as it vanished. Then the walls as they vanished. Then the rest of the city was gone.
In fact, everyone began to have the same problem. Screams resounded as the floor disappeared and people fell through the landscape. Gogo's disappeared, inventory's vanished and a giant void consumed the world.
Alternate Universe: Saturn
Betty stands on the top of Soliko as the world starts vanishing from the bottom up.
"I don't get paid enough for this sh..." he vanished without a trace.
Alternate Universes: Jupiter, Venus and Urarse...err.. Uranus
The worlds crumbled and collapsed as the void consumed them all.
What had happened? The CEO Device has the ability, with the touch of a button (after all if you're going to end all existence, you should be able to do it with an easy press button) to shut down the SERVERS (Society's in Electronic Reality Vying for Ego, Respect and Sex) and thus destroy the very reality we live in.
And that my friends is where the horror started...
Chris opened his eyes very slowly. It was quite difficult for some reason. He then tried to uncrouch by extending his legs same as always, but this didn't seem to do anything. When his eyes finally opened he realised he was lying on the ground. Panicked that he had died he looked around for a monk to ressurect him, but he was in a zone that was totally unfamiliar to him. He tried to get a lock on a Generep but could not find the etherial interface. He wanted to scream... and he did... and suddenly feared that CheapLoveMotel would Temp Kick him for talking while dead, but no EGOS boot of doom was forthcoming. He couldn't understand this, when he tried to move.. and could! With great difficulty he managed to get to his feet.
"What is this? Did I lom my agility? Gravity seems to be worse... Ugh I feel like I've got 99% synaptic impairment"
"Chris? Is that you moving around? Get your lazy ass downstairs, your mother's going shopping and you can help." A voice yelled.
"Mother? Wha???" With considerable agony, he hobbled down the stairs. Two faces, only slightly familiar greeted him.
"Oh my, how long have you been at it this time?" the female responded. She looked like a Private Eye but seemed to have a more detailed appearance.
"I tell you, he just doesn't know when to stop. Well some fresh air will do you good. Off you go." the burly male responded. He had the build of a GenTank, but not the vacant dumbass look.
"Ok, I'll just get my anti radiation armour." Chris replied.
"Heh, nice try son, but time for a dose of reality." Chris decided to follow the Private Eye out the door, rather than ask what the Tank meant by that. The woman stepped out the door and he followed on. Suddenly he was struck with an indescribable pain and fell to the ground in agony.
"ARRGGHHHH It BURNNSS!!!!"
"What?"
"That!! That Evil Lightbulb in the sky!! It Burns!!!"
"Oh dear, you really need to stop this. You'd think you'd never been exposed to natural light before, although the way you play thats almost the truth."
Chris walked for some time through the unfamiliar city landscape. As he walked he could only wonder... is this some Dome of York trick?
They reached a 'Supermarket' and the 'mother' figure began loading a trolley with items. Never before had Chris been in a store with such selection. He did wonder where the weapons vendors were, but was impressed nonetheless. After what seemed like days they reached the npc's who were suprisingly animated, although their dialogue was just as repetitive as ever.
"That'll be $32.98 thank you." the female npc asked. Chris leaned forward to open a trade window by touching the npc's chest and was promptly bitchslapped.
"I'm experiencing a sensation altogether new to me. And frankly, I Love It!" Chris responded (Mystery Science Theatre 3000: The Move, Copyright, pay up!!!). His mother apologised for his behavior, successfully initiated trade and then directed him to remind him that this is why he doesn't have a girlfriend, although the female npc seemed to be turning a shade of red. The Mother figure told him to carry the goods. He added them to inventory and tried to walk.
"Arggghhhh... what am I a Monk? My Free Load is gone! I can barely walk."
"Oh for goodness me dear, go to the gym once in a while." His mother took some of the bags and they walked on.
Later that day, as the lightbulb in the sky began to go away, Chris was sitting at his HomeTerm, feeling the after effects of his strange Wasteland hike with such low Free load. He had been coated in a strange fluid which The Mother had called sweat. He felt so strange and confused. Nothing made sense anymore. And his Hometerm was of no help at all. It just kept displaying this 'Synchronising' message.
3 days later...
Chris was in absolute agony. His stomach was turned inside out. He had gotten hungry 2 days ago so had gone to the alley, killed a rat (which was suprisingly small) with a breadknife (obviously not double sharpened) and had eaten its Big Flesh. Ever since then his stomach had been in revolt against him. This had never happened before. Flesh was supposed to heal you not poison you like an angry Swamp Shaman.
As the pain finally started to subside (The Father had handed him some protopharma goodies called Paracetamol) he looked at the Hometerm. It had changed to display a 'Login Screen'. Curious, Chris activated this screen and it moved to a Universe selector.
"Pluto... 172" He clicked Enter, and miraculously it moved to a mugshot screen where he could see a picture of himself. There was an arrow over his face and Chris tried to move the plastic rat but it clicked and the screen changed again.
And then there was Neocron.
Sid stood in terror at the nightmarish vision he had just had, much the same as that of Chris and the rest of the world. He threw the device to the ground and went to shiver in the corner.
We should all fear the CEO Device. When misused it casts us all into 'The Real World' a terrifying place where nothing works like it should. Let us all hope it never happens again...
Until next time...
10-07-03, 03:43
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 043
Indiana Zane and The Mofo's of Gloom
D minus 363 days.
With the sense of dread in the air about the worlds imminent doom, spirits were at an all time low (even lower than when Betty had done a complete rendition of all of Britney Spears' songs and remixes). Using their incredible Spidersense ... err... their incredible Sixth Sense (N'ed suddenly senses the Copyright police heading to his door)... their highly evolved intuition, the EGOS decided that the populace needed a pick-me-up. Thus, they declared an event. This was of course a huge deal for the populace since, after all, events in Neocron were few and far between (Big Green Subtitles from Event GM's slam down "LAEMIN YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!!!).
Perhaps the best known instigator of events, a member of the First Circle of EGOS and all round good looker, is ZeroSanity. In this instance, Zero had decided to hold a cross-wasteland Reveller Race. All competitors were to use Revellers. They could have a driver and a gunner. The race would then begin at Jerriko Fortress. It began the moment Zero would announce their first location and the competitors would race to that location where they would receive directions to the next point in the race and so on until they reached their final unknown destination. The use of violence was acceptable, but both members of the team had to remain in the vehicle. With the rules announced, all the competitors took their positions. Zane Shadowfall of Phoenix Inc. had opted not to have a gunner, but to go it alone. All other competitors were armed and ready.
"Drivers are you set?" Zero yelled with his EGOS vocal power (hence he was heard a whopping 50 feet away). They acknowledged that they were.
"Gunners are you prepared?" The sound of gunfire into the air answered that one.
"Then drivers... your destination is..."
We won't bore you with the details of the race. After all, commentators are just glorified McDanish's (e.g. they just state the obvious). So instead, we go to the best seats in the house for their commentary on the race.
"Noo, get that freakn cloud out of the way. Move... MOVE!!! I can't see the damn race!" Laemin screamed at a cloud that was now hovering over the race. So much for the best seats.
"Dude, relax, have some sushi." MoonUnit offered. Laemin turned to look at him strangely, but he lifted up a small platter with sushi on it. Laemin just raised an eyebrow.
"Never fear, I'll deal with this!" CheapLoveMotel glanced over the edge of the Higher Plain and hauled out his NERF cannon and took aim at the cloud. Terrified at the possible results, Laemin tackled CLM, only for the cannon to fire and knock Moon's sushi out of his hand and over the edge. Moon was about to get angry, but fortunately Penzius, the current serving boy, brought him another plate. The other 2nd Circle EGOS were sitting on Apparent Chairs looking down on the race. Critter and Carbonite entered the Higher Plain and took over Laemin's space on the couch.
"So who's winning?" Carbonite asked.
"Dunno, but Moon just cost someone the race!" Excelsior answered. Everyone peered down to see why. Moon's sushi had fallen from on high, achieved terminal velocity and smashed into the windscreen of ReefSmoker's Reveller. Reef just looked at his car, looked at the sushi now splattered all over him, looked up, took one guess as to what just happened, and decided now was a good enough time for a spliff as any.
"Bahahaha. When Moon gets sushi, the result is some smashed up NUTS!" Mercuri giggled.
"Oh har har, it is to laugh," Moon replied, "Why don't you do something useful and turn into a chair so Laemin can sit down." Mercuri continued laughing, until he suddenly became a chair and Laemin sat down on him.
"Damn... why am I always on the ass end of all jokes?" Mercuri whined.
"Who are you calling a joke?" Laemin growled. Merc considered shutting up, but all of a sudden Penzius brought over a plate of Nacho's and a bowl of brocolli.
"Noooooooo...." he whimpered.
"Woah strange, NDA and JERK's are kicking each others asses. You'd think both being Tangent they'd work together." said PlasmaStorm.
"Pah, you know JERK's and NDA, if there's a prize up for grabs or something rare to be had, there's no lengths they won't go to in order to get it." Critter replied.
"Woah, wait a minute guys!" Lupus yelled, "they're coming up to the zoning line!" All the EGOS fell into a hush to see the greatest spectacle.
For those of you that don't know, a 'zoning line' is the anomaly that exists throughout the world. Long ago the world was mapped by great explorers, then it was revealed in greater detail by the use of GPS satellites. Some time after that, in order to assist in global positioning, the Federation launched satellites that would beam a low frequency energy pattern on the face of the planet in a grid pattern. This grid would then allow any electronic device to be able to know what grid it was in, and to give the user their location to within a few inches. However, during World War 3, these satellites were damaged, and as a result, they now beam a high frequency interference energy pattern onto the planet. The result of this is that anyone trying to cross from one grid to another must undergo the ordeal of 'zoning'.
The lead car was being driven by Lisa Davitt and KramerTheWeird. Closely behind them was Evangelion and Vain and behind them was Zane Shadowfall. Lisa and Kramer braced themselves and ploughed straight into the zoning line. The others followed in. Immediately they were sucked into a tunnel of light and colour. A strange high pitch whistle began playing some obscure themesong as they charged down the tunnel.
"Honey, Look out!" Kramer yelled. Lisa looked up and swerved quickly to avoid crashing into a blue Police box as it came floating past. She then swerved again as a bunch of of big trashcans with toilet plungers sticking out of the side yelling "EXTERMINATE" all the time came flying past. They breathed a sigh of relief, but it was too soon. They looked up and screamed as a giant neon word crashed into their windscreen and drew them off course. The neon 'Synchronising' logo was the greatest obstacle when crossing a zoning line. If anyone got struck by the Synchronising logo, you were in trouble.
Evangelion and Vain came screaming into the tunnel next. They narrowly avoided the police box, and Vain opened fire on the bubbletop trashcans, and with some amazing swerves, Eva dodged the Synchronising screen. But all of a sudden, the second worst obstacle was upon them. Up ahead the tunnel split into two branches. At the intersection was a roadsign that simply said 'Albequerque'.
"Oh no, I can never remember this part. Which way? Left or right?" Eva yelled.
"Right." Vain yelled. Eva swerved right and they ploughed out of the tunnel.
The Reveller materialised on the other side of the zoning line and the two breathed a sigh of relief. But then Vain looked up and just a few metres away he could see the EGOS sitting there looking at them funnily.
"What are you guys doing down here?" Vain asked.
"Look down and ask us that question." Ayreon replied. Vain and Eva looked down, and screamed as the distant ground approached them rapidly.
"I knew we should've taken that left turn at Albequerque!" Eva screamed. The Reveller smashed into the mountainside around Tech Haven and the occupants were killed. They generepped back to Neocron, only to be met by lawyers from the Estate of the Warner Brothers, wishing to discuss the unauthorised use of one of their catch-phrases.
Meanwhile, back in the light show tunnel, Zane cruised along completely oblivious to any dangers around him. He had one hand on the steering wheel, another gripped around a Warbot Cola, and had 'The Funky Chicken' blaring out of his speakers at full volume. Without realising it he took the left turn and emerged on the other side of the zoning line in first position. He then cruised on to the next target.
"Dude, Zero does a good job, this is a pretty good race," Moon replied, "want some popcorn?" He offered it to Ayreon who accepted.
"Ack... man, the butter tastes like its gone off." He spat out.
"Yeah.... the butter... that's it..." Moon looked shifty and edged away. Ayreon looked down at the popcorn and began yelling with a thunderous roar.
"Hmn... sounds like Thunder, better hurry." Zane thought to himself.
The race ended and Zane won (like you didn't see that one coming). Excitedly he received his prize from ZeroSanity.
"Here you go Zane, a completely unique set of items!" Zane nearly creamed himself as he received his... cowboy hat and bullwhip?? The look of bewilderment was priceless. Zero just looked innocent and disappeared. A few onlookers chuckled away at Zane's crappy prize. Zane felt jipped. What was he going to do with a hat and bullwhip?
For several day's Zane pondered what his prize might be useful for. At long last he came to the conclusion that there was only one way to find this out and that was to try them out in various scenarios. He donned the hat and thought to himself "well its at least a change from the normal wardrobe around here" as he looked at the depressing selection in his outfitter. He then shoved the Bullwhip in his hand and zoned to Plaza 1.
He stood in Plaza 1 and found Spanky. Spanky had stiffed Zane on the bill for a few weapons last week, and since then had been hiding under the protection of the copbots in Plaza 1. Zane wondered if maybe the whip could be used there anyway. He found Spanky and went to raise his whip but suddenly a strange Spy with a big beard ran over and waved a hand in front of his face.
"You don't want to raise that whip."
"I don't want to raise this whip." Zane looked blank.
"You want to leave and play Star Wars Galaxy."
"I want to leave and play.... hey wait a minute, I'm not THAT weak minded. Who in their right mind would play that buggy ass piece of (CENSORED)." Zane glared up and realised he was being mindtricked by the LUCASbot, an infiltrator that had been sent to weaken the minds of Neocron's faithful with flashy images and hollow promises. Zane sucked in the air and yelled at the top of his voice
"SHENANIGANS!!!!" All the copbots looked over at Zane, put away their copbot rifles and pulled out their brooms. The LUCASbot could only look on helplessly as the Copbots beat it to death with their brooms... slowly.
His experiment in plaza 1 failed, Zane went to the Military Base. He stood on a stony cliff, his hat tipped ever so slightly as he glared down a Warbot. His fingers twitched and he hauled his whip out and struck the Warbot across the face. The Warbot recoiled and then turned to look at him. Zane looked above its head and a big red 0.00000001 floated up. The Warbot then started doing a mechanical laugh before rearing its foot back and dropkicking Zane over the MB's Satellite dish.
Next, Zane went to a Worm tunnel. He crept along silently till he found what he was looking for. An Apparition was hovering there quietly. Zane lept from the shadows, reared back and whipped at the Apparition. The bullwhip passed right through it without having any effect. Again the look of bewilderment returned to his face. The Apparition moved slightly, then sent a 10 jigawatt pulse into the whip which travelled up and electrocuted Zane to a extra spicy crisp. He fell to the ground in an amount of pain that cannot be described. As for what happened then... well... if you can imagine what the sound of 1000 souls all laughing at once sounds like, you might have an idea as to what he was going through.
Rather unhappy about his lack of progress, and sulking around Plaza 3, Zane felt nature call and went to use the Toilet. As he began to do his business, he could hear discussion in the stalls behind him.
"I hate Neocron. I'm nerfed all the time."
"I hate Neocron. Life sux, I can't kill a Tank in one shot."
"Neocron sux. My monk isn't uber."
"Neocron's great, what are you talking about?" Zane called back. All of a sudden the stall doors flew open and the occupants, some of which had forgotten to zip up, emerged. Zane turned to look and realised in one horrified moment that he was pissing on his shoes. After zipping up he realised the other horrifying fact. For he realised he had entered the Dark FORUM of Whiners
"Oh you like Neocron do you? Well we got a nice Flaming instore for you!" The 5 Whiners moved forward with menace. Zane got a glimmer in his eye, tipped his hat and pulled his whip out. He cracked it a few times and made them back of a bit.
"Oooh, this one's got spunk! This is gonna be one fun flaming!" Zane decided that maybe retreat would be wiser. He turned to go when all of a sudden the door slammed shut and the locking sound was heard.
"I've warned you Whiners before, now this FORUM is Closed. Have fun wallowing in your own mess for a while." Niddhog yelled in. Zane turned around with a horrified look on his face. The Whiners just grinned.
"Don't worry. You can leave your hat on..."
For reasons of morality, hygiene and sanity, we will not discuss what happened after that. Ever. Needless to say Zane was not feeling particularly happy right now. After a mindtrick, a booting, an electrocution and a flaming, he still had found no use for his prize. He was about to throw it in a nearby crate when Eva walked by.
"Oooh, whips. Whips are wheeeeee. Give it a crack for me, please?" Half-heartedly he gave it a crack.
"Ohhh, I almost got off on that. Do it again. Harder." Zane's eyebrows raised a bit as he gave it a solid crack. Eva looked on orgasmically. All of a sudden the light of hope entered into his being.
Later in Eva's Bordello...
Wearing nothing but a cowboy hat, Evangelion was performing moves that Yoga masters would have shy'd away from, all at the motivation of a Bullwhip cracking away nearby, still in the hand of an exstatic Zane.
"Thank you Zero... this is the best Prize Ever!!!!"
And up above in the Higher Plain, MoonUnit and the other EGOS could only nod and agree.
Until next time...
15-07-03, 15:45
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 044
Returning to Roots
D minus 355 days
10 days. Only 10 days had passed since Cassandra had doomed the planet. 10 days had been wasted, at least as far as NUTS could see. They had regathered their troops, recalled all personnel that they could and geared themselves up to the fullest. Keyser Soze had been sent on an errand to Tech Haven and Warlock the Hermit... well, he'd wandered off and was not taking calls. But the rest of NUTS were gathered in their Plaza 2 clan apartment, and were waiting. They waited and waited for some word from NEXT command as to what they were going to do.
"Ok, we've been waiting for days now. Yes, that EGOS race was fun and my whipping was fun, but now we need to work!" Eva paced around, "how long do they expect us to ...arghhh" Eva tripped over something, "damn chair..."
"That wasn't a chair," Hurricane moaned.
"Sorry Hurr," Eva reached out and rubbed his back.
"Eva, stop rubbing my ass." Lisa growled. Eva retracted her hand, glad that Lisa couldn't see her grin. None of them could see more than 2 inches in front of them. And all of a sudden, as if with one mind they all turned to where they thought the cause of the problem was seated.
"Reef, seriously, if you're gonna smoke for 8 days straight, crack a window!!" They all yelled.
"Sorry," Reef replied from behind them, and cracked a window. The smog cleared and finally they could all see again.
Finally the transmission from NEXT HQ came through to all NEXT clans.
***** Attention of: NEXT clans *****
***** From: NEXT Command *****
***** Subject: Survival *****
NEXT Clan leaders, and your associated members. NEXT have been charged with a most important and crucial mission, one that cannot fail. We have concluded deliberations with CityAdmin and the heads of other factions and have come to this agreement.
NEXT will begin the construction of 2 Nebula class Starliner Transports. These two transports will be the means by which we can evacuate the entire population of Neocron, Tech Haven, City Mercs and even the Canyon sectors. Our timeframe is simple. We must complete these craft within 300 days. After that point, planetary stability may compromise our ability to build such delicate vehicles. Once ready, the vehicles will be open to all to board, there will be no discrimination along faction lines.
CityAdmin will provide us with resources and funding. Biotech and ProtoPharma have been charged with the production of adequate cryo-units. Tangent will assist us in building the radiation shields, space drive and short range defensive weapons. Diamond Real Estate will also provide funding and resources as well as allocating cryo-units so that everyone is prepared for. The Wasteland factions that have signed on with us will be responsible for finding the resources and delivering them to either Diamond or CityAdmin. The CityMercs will provide protection for all departments during the construction. We understand Twilight Guardians and Fallen Angels will be working on another project aimed at saving the planet, but they will still supply us with the necessary resources.
All clans please report to Headquarters at the earliest possibility for assignments.
Our mission is stated, let us now carry it out.
***** Message Ends *****
"WHAT THE FREAKN HELL WAS THAT??????" Reef yelled.
"They wanna run. THATS their great plan?" Crono blurted out.
"We're not gonna just go along with this are we?" Lisa asked. And thus NUTS began a meeting. And once they cracked another window, they held the meeting. And when Keyser arrived they actually had something to talk about at the meeting.
Meanwhile in Tangent HQ...
JERK's had been given the assignment of preparing the weapons for the starships. They felt it was a worthy task, but one that would not allow them to pursue their goal of overwhelming outpost control any further. And with that gloomy thought, their name's acronym seemed a little redundant...
And so it was that with 355 days to go, the 44th Issue of NERD and the two main acronym's not being quite funny enough any more, NUTS and JERK's changed their clan names.... again.
The clan formerly-known-as-NUTS-and-formerly-known-as-ASS voted unanimously to return to their roots in Fallen Angels and assist in the Planetary Movement of Salvation (PMS).
The clan formerly-known-as-JERK-and-formerly-known-as-SODOM set their full attention to The Buiding Arks for Keeping away Armageddon Project (or The BAKA project for short).
The clan formerly-known-as-NUBI sucked too much in this story and won't be back again.
The runner formerly-known-as-Megaman-and-formerly-known-as-Kate-Moss is now serving a valuable function outside Dome of York, scaring birds away from Insidious Wolf's Milky Ren garden.
Centuri was standing around Tangent HQ, awaiting the arrival of one of his clanmates, when Chiphead walked past. At first Centuri noted it was Chiphead and thought nothing more of it, but then did a double take as he saw the JERK insignia gone.
"Chiphead, you're not a JERK anymore. What are you now?"
"I'm a DICK."
"A wha..."
"A DICK. Defending our Interests through Carnage and Kills."
"Riiiggghhhhttt... I've just got to... go...and... do... stuff. Bye." And he walked away very fast, without making eye-contact with the DICK.
The next day in Tech Haven...
Trillian was murmering something in Dajuda's ear that was making him grin in Tech Haven 1 when the elevator door swung open and Crono stepped out. Trillian gasped as she looked on at the returning GenTank.
"Can it be? Have our NUTS come to rest in Tech Haven?" Trillian looked on wide-eyed.
"No. I am NUTS no longer. From this day on, I am a FART!" The wide-eyed look quickly changed to a glance of reproach.
"A FART?"
"Yes, Fixing the Armaggedon from Regant's Trap. FART. And here today, there will be lots of FART's in Tech Haven."
"I hope the air-con works." Dajuda mumbled.
"What?" Crono glared.
"Nothing." Dajuda made sure to keep his distance.
And thus FART's filled up Tech Haven and Tangent was full of DICK's and there were no more NUBI's and there will always be EGOS, and you can bet your ass there's always gonna be NERD's, so thats enough from this one, on to the next issue...
Until next time...
20-07-03, 11:22
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 045
A Day In The Life of an Evil Bastard
D minus 351 days
After finishing polishing every window in the Dome for the 50th time, Sid sat back and stared at the spotlessly shiny glass.
For those who thought Sid was ... imbalanced before, 2 weeks in total isolation from all other life and made him even more insane. What was worse was now the voice of Precious in his head had started calling him 'Insane' rather than Sid. And as they sat, it began again.
"What shall we do tonight Insane?" Precious asked.
"The same thing we do every night Precious. Try to Take Over The World!!!" (Lightning crashes outside). All of a sudden the DeltaGen's start singing:
"They're Precious and Insane, They're Precious and Insane,
One is a Psi Monk, the other's in his brain.
To Prove their crazy worth, they'll overthrow the Earth,
They're Precious, they're Precious and Insane sane sane sane sane."
"DAMNIT, Stop singing that song!!!" Sid yelled. The DeltaGens remained motionless.
"So Insane, how will we take over the world tonight?"
"Well Precioussss we has had a brilliants ideass. We is goings to asks thems to surrendur!" Another lightning bolt strikes.
Now if Precious had eyes, she'd be rolling them right about now. But as she is just a figment of Sid's mind, she did the only thing she could do. And that was to send random shock pulses down his spine and cause him to crap himself.
"Why's u do thats? My idea is l337 Precious."
"Your idea sucks more than Eva." Sid looks at the camera, raises and eyebrow and smirks.
"But whys it sux? Its R L337!!!"
"They are not going to surrendur just because you ask. This plan cannot work."
"NO! I wills do its, you cannot talks me out of it!" And Sid walked to his console to demand Neocron's surrendur.
"I Urge you to reconsider!" Precious put on a serious voice.
"Hmn... Ok. I will stop." Precious would have fallen out of her chair if she had one. Who would have thought Steve Oedekirk's dumbass tactic would work.
After a heated debate, they decided that tonight, they would attempt to force Neocron's surrendur through mental torture. A torture so horrible, so barbaric, that they would have no choice but to give up.
The city speakers in Neocron activated and the volume was cranked to the max. Citydwellers could only look on in horror, or hope to reach a generep in time to get out of the city before they fell over in a spasm as the noise blasted forth:
(The Following Song "Dome of York" is done to the tune of Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York").
Startss spreadings the newzzz, I'm so l337 today,
I ams the Lords of all of its,
Dome of York, Dome of York.
These Inquisition shoes, are longings to strayss
Right through the toxic part of it,
Dome of York, Dome of York.
I want to wake up, in a city with no peeps,
And find I'm King of Hill
I R So L337!!! Yes Precious....
Those Neocron dudes, Are Goingsss to Pay,
Now I lives afar from thems,
In Old Dome of York,
If I can prepare, Neocron must beware
Of Nukes from Dome of York, Dome of York..
Dome of York, My York...
I want to wake up, in a city with no peeps,
Who needs a gun, I'm having fun,
No I'm not done, I've justss beguns...
And now for my renditionsss of Spice Girls!!!"
In a move that scored him major brownie points, Lioon Reza hit the panic button and sent the signal to all copbots to destroy all the speakers. The sound plague ended and the worst cases were hurried off to Medicare. The screeching nightmare had ended.
"An artist is rarely appreciated in his own time Insane," Precious assured Sid.
"Yeah I knows, buts they coulds have waited. I was just gettings warmed up, listens:
If you wannabe my Runner,
You gotta shoot all your friends.
Making guns is clever,
But killing is the trends...."
"Ok, yeah, I get it..." If Precious had hands she'd have them slammed over her ears. Fortunately she doesn't have ears either so the problem is solved.
Later that day there was a knock at the front gate.
"I wonders who thats could be?" Sid wondered. He walked to the gate. "Who iz its?"
"Roomservice."
"Ooohhh, Roomservice." Sid gladly opened the gate. He was a little disappointed when the door opened as a knucklesandwich wasn't what he ordered. Warlock the Hermit strode in over Sids laid out body.
"Ahh, thanks for opening up Sid, don't mind if I come on in do ya?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"Whats do you wants?" Sid grumbled, holding his sore jaw.
"This." Warlock walked over to a sensory control and began pushing buttons. A number of dishes and arrays atop the Dome and in the surrounding regions began to come to life as Warlock began scanning for something.
"Why's is the Hermit taking liberty's with Sid's stuff? Precious doesn't likes this. What's is the little NUTS doings??"
"I'm not a NUTS anymore." Warlock growled back at Sid.
"Its nots? What is its then?"
"A FART."
"ARRGHHH!!! No FARTs in here, its a closed air supply! Gets out, Gets Out!!" The console dinged and Warlock breathed heavily.
"Hmn... mores the pity. Now what were you saying?" Warlock finally took a moments notice of Sid. Sid, enraged at Warlock ignoring him, and at Precious playing 'The Thong Song' in his head (yes, figments of imagination may not have hands, ears or body's, but apparently they have great subwoofers), ran upstairs to the laundry room and found one of his pairs of underwear, a pair worn for two weeks straight and still not washed. He ran to a base defense cannon and loaded the soiled garment in. Warlock had already begun walking away from the Dome, so Sid took aim at his back and fired.
Warlock, hearing the shot, slammed on his Psi Deflector in the nick of time and the evil cloth rebounded off and sailed many miles southwards. He turned to look back at the Dome and saw the open gun port. Grinning that evil grin of his that only evil grinners can grin (did that make sense?) he spun round and hauled out a Tangent Commando Rifle, loaded it with a special round and fired it back into the Dome. Sid quickly sealed the port again and the Dome returned once again to its closed air supply. Warlock walked onwards towards the northern shores.
"Warlock must be a bad shot Insane, he totally missed you." Precious stated.
"Warlock suxx... Warlock can kiss my pants." Sid replied. He stopped dead in his tracks, thought for a second and then screamed.
"No....Noo.... PANNNTTSSS!!!" And so it was that Dome of York was infected with the Pants Virus.
That evening...
"What shall we do tonight Insane?"
"The same things we do every nights, Precious... try to take over your pants... DAMNIT!!!"
"But I don't have pants." Precious informed him.
"I know, I didn't means we were gonna take over your pants, I mean we were gonna try and stick it to the Pants....DAMNIT!!!"
"Listen Insane, I may be your figment, but we're not that close..."
That night there was a major row in Dome of York, a lot of pained patients in Medicare, and a ditch with a small stone glowing green in the night with a hideous undergarment melting through the ground.
Until next time...
20-07-03, 12:14
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 046
He's Back
D minus 350 days
It was early in the morning in Tech Haven and the FART's were full of energy. Warlock had sent a quick message during the night saying he'd found some information of interest, Keyser Soze was handing out donuts and all of them had survived the sonic torment that Neocron had endured the day before. So they were in pretty good moods, even despite having been up all night working.
"Ok, so NEXT have received adequate materials for the first cruiser already? That's excellent." Reefsmoker sat back in his chair.
"Yes, hopefully they'll have the rest of the materials within 2 weeks. Then its just a matter of building them." Eva smirked as she pretended to be the chair. Reef suddenly realised this and got up.
"Ok, so that will be a nice safety net to have, but what about efforts to stop the planetary destruct?" Reef asked.
"Not that great it would seem. We've tried getting back to Regant's Legacy to gather some information but the entrances are blocked. We tried sending drones in, but now they're just sending black image." Keyser informed them.
"Black? Did the drones get very far?" Vain asked.
"No, they just skimmed the waterline into a fissure in the wall and then started transmitting black. Nothing else can be determined at this time." Vain shuddered at memories from the last encounter with the Legacy.
"You know its times like this when we need to play a game." Eva jumped up and down. Vain got the urge to hump things. Eva encouraged Vain to hump things. Keyser encouraged them to not. Vain rubbed his head. Eva rubbed Vain's head too. Keyser pulled Eva's hand up to above Vain's waistline.
"Eva we're not playing Pin the Dildo on the Eva again." Lisa called back from the clan cabinets. Eva went to sulk in the corner by herself.
A few members of THSC were in Tech Haven 2. Trillian was wearing a towel and was hanging her freshly washed panties on the security bots.
"Why are you hanging your laundry on them Tril?" Dajuda asked.
"Well they might as well have ONE useful purpose. And we all know that ain't security (Big Red Subtitles slam down "SAD BUT TRUE.").
"Yeah, but, like, someone could, you know, steal them."
"Oh please, who would want to steal my clothes?" Trillian asked. (Note from N'ed: Put your hands down people.)
All of a sudden the air behind Trillian and Dajuda rippled as an invisible entity ever so slightly disturbed the air and snuck towards one of the Clotheshangers...err.. I mean Tech Haven Security Bots. He carefully lifted an item up and then vanished without a trace. Trillian continued to hang her clothes and Dajuda continued to try and see down the towel (him and everyone standing on the upper balcony's). Then Trillian turned to see if anything was dry.
"Hey... where's my pants?" Trillian asked.
Across space and time, in another world, in another Dimension known only as "The Test Server".
The air rippled and Lupus appeared from nowhere, a big fat woman in nasty pink leiderhoesen stepped out of the shadow's.
"You got the stuff?"
"Here ya go." Lupus passed her the pants.
"Sweet.... I can make a fortune from these things."
The war concerning Trillian's pants is far from over. NERD will continue to document these events as they unravel.
Meanwhile in Dome of York...
"I DO NOT WEAR PANTS!!!"
"I KNOW. I DONT WANT YOUR PANTS! YOU'VE BEEN NAGGING ALL NIGHT!! JUST GIMME YOUR PANTS!!... DAMNITT!!!!"
Back to Neocron...
"No more singing... when does the hurting stop..."
Okay.... we're running out of things to talk about here... back to Tech Haven...
"YOU STOLE MY PANTS!!!" Trillian was strangling Dajuda.
"No ...wait... arghh... please..." Then from the balcony above a single voice called out.
"He wouldn't take your pants. He doesn't want them. He want's whats in your pants." The source of the voice moved away.
"Yes... geez. I thought that would be obvious, babe." Daj gasped for air.
"Hmn... now that you mention it (Tril turns to look at the camera) That was Obvious." (NERD Editor points at the title, points at the giveaway clue: "Figured it out yet?)
Keyser was fighting Eva to get Lisa's Dildo of Maven back (not that she cares, Kramer does such a good job after all, but it was her property) and Vain was sexing everything in sight when a big bang was heard at the door.
"I have walked into the door." A voice stated the obvious. Everyone inside stopped and listened. The doorbell rang.
"I have rung the doorbell." Again with the obvious. Those inside could barely restrain their unbridled hope. Keyser rushed to the door and opened it. Everyone looked on in awe and with one voice yelled:
"MCDANISH!!!"
"And you guys complain that I state the obvious." McDanish smirked.
Within ten minutes, the entire clan was assembled. Trillian, Dajuda and Kramer The Weird had been invited in as well, to bask in the presence of FART's.
"How is it possible?" Reef exclaimed.
"When did this happen?" Keyser Soze asked.
"Are ya still stiff?" Eva smirked.
"Can I hump you?" Vain asked. McDanish just grinned. It was good to be home.
"To answer in order. I awoke this morning under the ground. I was at first quite startled, and then I was alarmed as I saw a glowing green pair of underpants on my chest. I quickly fled from them and found myself gasping for air."
"Warlock mentioned that Sid's underwear had sailed South." Keyser informed.
"So its true," Trillian gasped, "the contents of Sid's underwear is only fit for the dead." (Big Red Subtitles Slam Down "OOOHHHH DISSED!!!")
"Anyway," McDanish had a sip of his Cron beer and continued, "that answers how and when. As for the other two questions, I appear to be hard in only the right places and if you sex me you'll find yourself in my ditch." Vain decided not to pursue the matter further.
And so it was that two very important things happened that day. Firstly, McDanish, Lord of the Obvious and Pastry Chef Supreme upgraded himself from compost to a FART (though the smell was much the same, ok I had to put that one in, so sue me). The other was the discovery that Insidious' Wolf's underwear was the only known cure to Perma-Death.
That evening, in the Dimensional Room known only as "The Office"...
"Interesting... the dead return, the underwear is flying and the world continues to die, and all the while they laugh and try to find things to be happy about." MJS thundered to himself.
"Guess it's how they deal boss," Teh KillerBunneh remarked.
"Oh thank you for that insight Bugs. What you look into a crystal ball for that pearl of wisdom? Pipe down Fluffy." MJS growled.
"...I'm not fluffy, its just a natural curl to my hair..." Bunneh mumbled to himself.
"Well, I can't imagine things going more my way." MJS reclined in his chair.
"Yeah, but they are getting those cruisers built. At this rate they'll all escape before the planet goes boom!" Bunneh absentmindedly informed MJS, then regretted it.
"Oh really? We shall see..." MJS thought to himself for a moment, "get me the translation device."
"Which one?"
"The English to Japanese one." MJS did a few translations and then sent a message to a brand new recipient.
And a new player began to move...
Until next time...
24-07-03, 13:48
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 047
Mr. Anderson
D minus 340 days
A clean cut, nice and shiny copbot walks in to a sterile, windowless interrogation room in CityAdmin. The room is soundproof and the only furniture in it is a table and two chairs. The Copbot sits down and awaits the arrival of its superior.
1.4389 minutes later, Copbot Jenna entered the room and sat down as well.
"Very well Copbot, you have messaged me for a meeting. Let meeting commence at 0759.24178 Neocron standard time. Report." Copbot Jenna was far less chatty when dealing with other Copbots. CityAdmin had permitted her personality subroutines for her work with runners doing missions of an epic nature for the faction. But deep down she was just another Copbot, another bodysnatched victim locked in a copbot chassis, forever forced to do CityAdmin's bidding. And now it was time for the other Copbot to address her. This Copbot was also special. It had been gifted with numerous special powers, as well as a voice box of an outstanding quality. Where most CopBots had a voice synthesiser with a few bossy commands programmed in, this Copbot had a deep, slow, yet deliberate speaking voice. It spoke very pronouncably and with a total lack of emotion, but it was a real voice.
"I've had my eye on a particular individual for some time now. It seems this individual has been living two lives. In one of these lives, he's Mr. Anderson, a respectable runner for the city of Neocron. He kills rats for a living, sharpens stilleto's and... recycles his garbage into solantium. In the other life he goes by the runner name of W_H_Spliff, a drugdealer and ... all round mellow guy. One of these lives has a future, and the other does not." He awaited a response from his superior, but instead got the synthesized snore from Copbot Jenna. His Visor glimmered as he pulled out his rifle and shot Copbot Jenna once in the head. Copbot Jenna woke up.
"That was a long report."
"Yet now it is done."
"And not a moment too soon."
"May I make a move?"
"Yes, you may. Take appropriate action against this... Mr. Anderson. We trust you will fulfill your obligations."
"Indeed I will." He growled and rose to leave.
"By the way, I got your serial number, but what is your designation? What name do you use when dealing with runners?" Jenna asked.
"Smith. Copbot Smith."
Across town in Club Veronique...
Mr. Anderson stands stoicly in the club as Evangelion performs one of her ballbreaking stripteases on stage (good thing she don't have any balls). All of a sudden he turns his head to see a woman walking towards him, clad in black.
"Who are you?" he shouts over the noise of the club music.
"I am Trinity." she replies.
"Your name is Trinity?" he looks shocked. She moves closer.
"No you idiot, my name is Trillian, how many times have I told you that before?"
"Never."
"Oh, well... you should still know. I am Trillian after all."
"What do you want Tril?" Mr Anderson asks.
"They're coming for you Neo."
"Did you just call me Neo?"
".... can we get out of this club so we can talk?" They leave. Dajuda feels betrayed in the shadows as Trillian walks away with (yet) another man. Then he spots Eva bending in ways women just aren't supposed to and forgets his train of thought.
Once outside they find they can talk a bit better.
"Ok, as I was saying, they're coming for you NOW!!" Trillian glares Mr. Anderson down.
"Who is?"
"The Copbots, an Agent of the system."
"What system?"
"Andy we don't have time for 20 questions. Right now there's only one way. My way or the highway."
"That's two ways, and this is Neocron, we have dirt tracks, not highways."
"Why he thinks you're worth saving I have no idea..." Trillian shakes her head in disbelief.
"Huh who do....arggghhh." Trillian hits Andy in the balls with a sharpened baseball bat and drags him off, rather than explain any further. A few moments later two steely boots slowly walk down the path they have just left the club by as Copbot Smith scans the area.
Mr. Anderson awakens in a high backed chair in a big room. Trillian is just heading out the door, muttering obscene word about him as she goes. Mr. Anderson sits up and sees another individual in the room standing by a window, looking out at stormy weather. Mr. Anderson goes to say something when the individual turns around and grins. A lightning bolt flashes behind him. It would have been a far more impressive and striking image if the individual didn't have a big signboard hanging around his neck with the word "McDANISH" written on it. The individual strides forward.
"In case you had not figured it out, I am McDanish." says McDanish. Andy raises a finger to say something, but decides against it.
"I imagine that right now you're feeling a bit like Alice... tumbling down the rabbit hole?" McDanish grins again.
"We're not gonna do that whole crappy Alice in Wonderland analogy are we?" Andy asks.
"Oh you don't wanna do that? Great, I hate that analogy. And who reads Alice in Wonderland anymore?" McDanish hauls the script out of his pants and shreds it. Then he sits down.
"Let me tell you why you are here. You're here because you know something. What you know you can't explain, but you've felt it, ever since you were born..."
"Yeah, thank you! Finally someone understands, what the hell is this?" Mr. Anderson stands up, hauls his pants off and points to an obscene rash on his inner thighs. McDanish practically leaps out his chair and hides behind it.
"SIT DOWN YOU SICK SON OF A BITCH!!!" McDanish cries. Mr. Anderson sits down.
"PULL YOUR PANTS BACK UP FIRST!!!" Mr. Anderson pulls his pants back up. McDanish calms down and sits back down.
"That's not what I'm talking about, and for the record, I have never seen, nor do I ever wish to see, a rash like that."
"Oh."
"As I was saying. Let me tell you why you are here..."
"I know why I'm here. That crazy Trillian bashed me over the head with a sharpened baseball bat and dragged me here." McDanish looks blank for a second, then yells down the hall at Trillian for ruining his well prepared and long-winded speech.
"Ok, fine, let me do this the short way. Andy, you've been living in a dream world."
"You mean a cleverly designed and insanely complicated computer network is using me as a double A battery to power itself in an apocalyptic world that ultimately is all humanity's fault?" Mr. Anderson's mind was opened.
"What? No. That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. You're living in a dream world because your alter-ego is smoking too much weed."
"ohhhh."
"Yeah, and as a result of that, the Copbots have sent an agent against you because they perceive you as a threat."
"Why me?"
"Because, the world of Neocron, despite all of the funky weird crap that happens around here, and the liberal use of the NERF bat, is a world governed by rules. And in that world, the Copbots are the gatekeepers. They are watching all the exits to the wasteland, and they are holding all the keys. And in order for our people to truly be free, someone has to go against them."
"Someone?"
"I won't lie to you Andy, everyone who has tried to solo a Copbot has died. But where they have failed, you will try."
"Why me?"
"Because when we've loaded you up with some top grade 'ReefSmoker Elite' weed, you'll be too doped up to perceive the sh*t you're getting yourself into."
"Wha?? Hey wait a ...arggghhhh." Once again Trillian bashes Mr. Anderson over the head with a baseball bat.
"See this is sooo much easier than explaining things to him." Tril points out.
"Yes, upon seeing you render his babbling ass unconscious and the simplicity that has dawned afterwards, I am realising that hitting him is sooo much easier than explaining things to him."
"I just said that!" Trillian growls.
"Yes, upon going back upon this conversation I realise that in order to state the obvious I have said what you just sa...arggghhh!" Trillian didn't swing for McDanish's head, but it shut him up all the same.
As a car with an unconscious man in the back seat and a pained man in the passenger seat is driven away by a wild-eyed blonde with a bat, Copbot Smith walks into the room they just occupied.
"I really need to oil my gears, I'm so slow today."
Three weeks later, a completely wasted Mr. Anderson, now referring to himself as W_H_Spliff, enters "The Training programme" with McDanish to learn of his great new powers.
"Isn't this just Neofrag?" Andy asks.
"Shut up." McDanish growls. Andy takes a pull of another spliff and forgets his own question.
"Now, as I was saying this is the training programme. It has the same basic rules as Neocron. What you must realise is that some of these rules can be bent, others can be broken."
"Like what? Gimme and example."
"Well if I knew that I wouldn't need you now would I?" McDanish growls. McD pulls a weapon out.
"This is a knife."
"Heheheheheeh Knifey knifey knifey knifey knifey...." McDanish looks on in horror as Andy grabs the knife and runs around stabbing everything in sight.
"What directly the spoodle are you doing?"
"You've never played Knifey Knifey before? Here look, knifey knifey knifey..." Andy thrusts the knife forward repeatedly, a little too close to McDanish.
"You've perforated my chest you moron."
"Soz."
"Np." Ahh the universal phrase of problem solving, if only world leaders knew how to use it.
"Anyway," McD snatches the knife back, "this is a knife. To free your mind you must realise the truth."
"What truth?"
"There is no knife."
"Yes there is, its right there!"
"No, realise that there is no knife."
"Dude, come on, its in your hand! Just look at it, look..." McDanish decides to take a page out of Trillians book and calls down a strike of Holy Lightning on Andy's head. Andy collapses in a smouldering pile.
"Do as you're told. There is no knife."
"There is no pants."
"Are you suffering from the Pants Virus?" McDanish looks on quizzically.
"No, I mean there is no pants!" Andy stands up and reveals he's stripped his pants off. McDanish recoils and runs off screaming. Andy grins and sits back with another spliff.
Mr. Anderson and McDanish exit Neofrag together, only to be confronted by... Copbot Smith!
"Mr. Anderson." he exclaims with an odd amount of enthusiasm for a machine.
"Umm... laters." McDanish exits, stage right. Andy is left all alone with Smith.
"I'm going to enjoy watching you die, Mr. Anderson." Smith states.
"Huh? Have we met?" Apparently Smith had been taking lessons all this time because he stops talking and pulls out his copbot rifle and blasts Andy full force. The plasma shots that look oddly like a Poison beam strike Andy down hard.
"Goodbye Mr. Anderson." he turns to walk away. Mr. Anderson rises to his feet, to the amazement of Smith.
"Duuuude. That poison stuff is the bomb, gimme more. I r soo out of it right now." Smith is enraged and blasts Andy down again and again, but W_H_Spliff's powers only increase with every blast. All of a sudden the rifle clicks empty. McDanish sticks his head out from behind a door.
"You're empty!" and then runs off. Andy all of a sudden gets a look of pure determination. He throws away his knife, throws away his gun and glares down Smith. If Smith had a mouth, he'd probably not be grinning right now. All of a sudden, in a stunning move, Andy raises his.... fist. Smith is dumbfounded. Surely Spliff boy can't mean to go fisticuffs with a Copbot?
Mr. Anderson lunges forward and begins slowly punching Copbot Smith in the chest. Copbot Smith is so pissed off by this, he becomes paralysed with rage, and cannot fight back. For 30.128578 minutes, Andy punches Smith, but then runs out of stamina. He then steps back, calls for time out, grabs a Stamina booster and rolls it into his next spliff. A few quick pulls and he's ready for action. This time Smith is no longer paralysed. He takes his size 23 Copbot boot and shoves it right up Andy's Ass. Smith begins to systematically beat the crap out of Andy, until Andy can no longer stand. Then Copbot Smith wraps his arm around Andy's neck so he can whisper in his ear.
"You hear that sound, Mr. Anderson? That is the sound of your neck breaking. That is the sound of your death. Goodbye, Mr. Anderson." Short of breath, Andy sums up the strength for one final line.
"My...name... is W_H_Spliff!!!"
"What kind of stupid ass name is that?" Smith yells in his ear. Furious at a copbot mocking his chosen name, Andy sums up his inner strength to propell them both upwards into the ceiling in dramatic fashion. However, he does not realise copbots weight 2 tonnes, and only succeeds in pulling a groin muscle. In the strain, he also unleashes a foul fart into the air. The thick toxic fumes enter Copbot Smiths air filters and begin to cause his wiring to short out.
"Noooo...arrggghhhhh *static*" Smith slumps to the ground. McDanish comes out awe-inspired.
"Its true, you really are The... *sniffs* ... argghhh." McDanish falls to the ground in convulsions. Andy just shrugs and walks off to see if Eva's still putting a show on.
Until next time...
30-07-03, 12:30
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 048
The Hunt for Grey November
D minus 200 days
Deep in the bowels of Tech Haven, in the newly established Council rooms, a special meeting of the Fallen Angels was taking place. The meeting was to discuss the latest transmission from NEXT HQ. The recently elected Council Chairperson, Trillian was attempting to get everyone into order.
"Once again the message holds no real information that could help our search for a solution to the SWG machines effect," many grumbles could be heard. Ever time the city messaged them it was always to do with their pet project, and only ever had the weakest scraps of information for the Fallen Angels or Twilight Guardians. It was, they supposed, expected towards TG, what with their history, but there had been a genuine belief that FA would get a little more cooperation.
"Great so Neocron sticks it to us right up the ass again." Dajuda moaned.
"Yeah, well anyway, this message doesn't even try to give the pretense that it was for anything other than their scheme." To this everyone went silent. Neocron was many things, but blatant was not one of them. They always made at least a token effort to candycoat their selfish demands.
"So what do they want?" Ithaqua asked.
"The starcruisers are nearing completion. However, NEXT believes it can only construct one propulsion unit before the deadline." At this, there was a huge amount of murmerring. Effectively, NEXT had stated that if no solution to the SWG effect could be found, there would only be enough room for half the global populace on the one completed cruiser. This would mean that one in every two runners would be facing certain perma-death.
"Oh man, I'm gonna die, I just know I'm gonna die." Hurricane started babbling out loud.
"Calm down Hurr," McDanish patted him on the shoulder.
"No, come on, you know its true, I'm always the one that dies!"
"Yes, I know thats true, but I still want you to calm down." McDanish flatly stated. Everyone looked at him funny, then looked back to Trillian.
"If you'd all shut up long enough for me to finish. They only have the time and resources to BUILD one propulsion unit. However, there may be a way to get another one." At this, everyone did a Spock and raised one eyebrow. Trillian felt she was in a Star Trek convention.
"Don't do that again." She asked. In unison everyone asked:
"Do what?"
"Never mind... anyway. It seems that when the ships for the great Trek were being built, a prototype was build and launched. However, due to a trajectory miscalculation, it never made it to space and crashed back down to earth. Now recent satellite footage has shown that the ship may in fact be sufficiently intact as to have the propulsion system salvaged. Repairing the existing system will be far quicker and NEXT believes that if we can obtain the system, then the second cruiser will be operational in time." At this, everyone cheered, except for Hurricane who was still sensing his demise. McDanish was trying to comfort him with tales of what its like to be dead, but it wasn't helping. Especially the tale of mutated disgruntled earthworms nibbling on your nads. It was, of course, no suprise that the only empty seats in the room were directly surrounding McDanish.
"So what is the plan oh boss type person?" Keyser Soze asked from the shadows at the back of the room.
"We need an expedition to go out and find the wreckage. We have the relative co-ordinates so this will only be a search within one grid, but the party must still locate it, find safe entrance to the vessel, determine the fate of the propulsion system, and transport whatever can be salvaged to NEXT HQ."
"Pah, easy! Tril, we can do that!" Download yelled.
"Why am I not suprised to hear that? Let me be a little more specific, before everyone jumps to the conclusion that this is a simple assignment. The location of the ship is outside of the normal territories we frequent. Using the current mapping system, this would be the equivalent of H 21."
"But that would place it... beyond the cliffs and into the extreme radiation lands. We can't walk there!" More murmering began.
"Ok, if you're all going to mumble like that every time I finish a sentence, I will take my leg shaver and personally peel away your testicles one layer of skin at a time." Dead silence.
"The mission is possible but not easy. The city will provide us with airlifts using the FireWreath fighers to get to the top of the cliffs. From there its a 2 day march through intense radiation. This means that only those equipped with the AntiRadiation suit will survive."
"You don't mean..."
"Yes, this mission must be carried out entirely by Spy's." Looks of disbelief were on everyones face. Trillian was asking a team of spy's to walk through uncharted areas, where any number of hazards could present themselves. They would have to trek a long distance, so their stamina would be put to the test. They would have to explore a derelict wreck, which would mean climbing and scouting, and most importantly it would mean having to transport a very large weight back. It summed up to the ideal job for a squad of tanks, and Spy's were going in their place. A request for volunteers was made and thankfully volunteers stepped up. ReefSmoker and Vain from FART and Tricia McMillan from THSC stepped up.
"Hmn..." Trillian looked at the 3, "this is good, but I feel like we need something else. An adventurer, you might say, a man willing to search through dark, dusty places, to step where history has forgotten, who looks good in a stupid hat..."
And so it was that Zane Shadowfall was conscripted into the team, not that he minded. So the four gallant heroes, all wearing the Anti Radiation suit were unceremoniously dropped on the top of the cliff and they began their journey. With the identical armour suits on, no one could tell the difference between the four... well... except for the one wearing the cowboy hat and holding a bullwhip.
So, with 199 days on the clock, 4 spy's set out to salvage the last, best hope to get the hell out of here. 4 spy's, suffering from major headaches thanks to their crappily made, sorry excuse for a powerarmour powerarmours, marched across unmapped terrain to reach the only relic of the Irata 3 trek, the "Grey November".
What they saw and what they faced on the journey is a tale only the 4 of them can properly tell, but needless to say they wore their Stealth Activators down to the nub. There were many creatures, larger and more awe inspiring than any BETA warbot, or Grim Persecutor or Betty has ever been. There were flying creatures that when they passed overhead, it was as if night had fallen, and their were creatures beneath the sands, tunnelling faster than an APC can drive. There were gorges so vast, had it not been for Zane's whip, they would never have been able to swing across. And yet, there were places where the sands were silent; where no living thing seemed to walk, and where there could only be seen small lagoons of black water.
After 3 days of stamina booster aided running, the four spy's reached the zone. They split up and began looking around.
"Hmn... not under here. Nope, not under here." the thorough ReefSmoker had begun lifting stones and pebbles to see whether the cruiser was hidden under them. Apparently he'd had his independent air supply specially tainted before leaving.
Vain took a different approach and began nailing everything around him with his Pain Easer, figuring the first thing to sound metallic was worth investigating. Unfortunately for him the first thing to sound metallic was Tricia getting hammered in the ass by his fire, and thus despite his armour, Vain spent the rest of the trip wanting to get inside his armour and nurse his crushed testicles.
Zane on the other hand was throwing caution to the wind, running around the place, whipping at anything that moved and trying to look heroic.
"Now... if i was a rusting hunk of junk, where would I be?" he asked himself. The answer came a second too late. A rusting pile of junk will always be wherever it can trip you up. Thus Zane tripped on the ship and thusly found it.
"Zane has found the ship." McDanish stated.
"How do you know that?" Hurricane asked.
"Hmn? Did I say something?" McDanish looked around blankly.
"Umm...." And Hurricane was afraid.
The team was able to gain access through a tear in the hull and they dropped into the ship. Zane lived up to his name and fell into a shadow. (Zane Shadowfall... get it? Clever huh? See you take the name and ....(NERD Editor has just ejected McDanish from the writing staff. We apologise for that incident)) The others landed on Zane, so 2 happy and safe spy's, one pancake and one eunuch proceeded into the ships bowels. When they realised this ship really did have bowels they decided to take a slightly less stinky route to Engineering.
As they walked down the hallway, which was slightly slanted downwards, it got increasingly dark. All of a sudden a buzzing sound was heard and a flashlight lit up, or rather, a Dildo of Maven.
"Reef, what are you doing with that?" Vain asked.
"What? Lisa's got Kramer now, she doesn't want it anymore."
"Thats not the point..."
"No, thats the bulb, this is the point." Reef turned it over to show Vain. Vain just backed away.
They proceeded further, but stopped constantly to look at signs on the walls. The further they went, it became apparent that not all of the crew had died in the crash. The signs made up almost a story as they walked along.
"The end is near, the walls will not hold."
"If anyone reads this, tell my daughter... she's adopted."
"All work and no play makes Yen a dull gurl."
"Napalm tastes like chicken."
"For a good time call Crack Whore on 555-BIG-ASS"
"Turn away, death lives in Engineering." At the last two everyone had shuddered, and at the last one everyone gulped.
"What could that mean? Death lives in Engineering?" Tricia asked.
"It means I, as the hero, should go first." Zane stepped forward, everyone started pushing him forward.
"I'm glad you all agree...hey, Reef watch where you're pushing that thing..."
Carefully the 4 crept into the darkened engineering section. Debris lay everywhere, and there was little light. They stepped out from behind cover, when all of a sudden the lights came on. Then, from out of nowhere, a squeeking, grinding noise echoed through the room as a big, black menacing form moved towards them. They screamed. The form carried a stick with a scythe on it. They screamed more. The form came closer. Zane whipped at it. It screamed. They screamed. We all scream together (everybody now...). Once the screaming ended (which took a lot longer than it should) everyone looked closely. The form appeared to have a big black cloth over it. Zane did his Indiana thing and whipped it off, to reveal... a bot. The bot was standing there, with 8 metal appendages and a long neck. On the neck was a ball with a single camera lens and blinkers over it (apparently to simulate an eye).
"Ohh, you scared the piss outta me." Tricia exclaimed. Everyone took one step away from her leaking suit.
"Geez I thought the message was right and death was in here." Vain squeeked.
"Death is in here." the bot's synthesizer chimed in. Everyone froze.
"Where?"
"Right here. I am death." Everyone prepared for battle. The bot just blinked. Reef, a veteran of being NERDed, suddenly realised the old gag and asked the obvious question.
"What does DEATH stand for?" (I love acronyms... *grins*)
"Data and Engineering Assistant from Tech Haven."
"Aww, thats cute!" Tricia went over and rubbed the bots shiny head.
"Don't do that." The Bot raised a bansaw to Tricia's neck. She backed away slowly.
"So Death, what do you do here?"
"I maintain the system when the Chief Engineer is not here. He has not been here for some time."
"How long is some time?" Zane asked.
"Data records stopped recording after 1 year. I went into standby before that time. The system has not requested my help since then, although Jane's probably getting fired."
"Jane?"
"Janitor Assistant from NEXT Enterprises. It is supposed to clean up, but hasn't done a very good job."
"Death, you do know the ship has crashed." Reef pointed out.
"It has? Oh dear oh dear. Whatever will the Captain think."
"Is this him?" Zane had found a body. Death inspected it and confirmed it was the captain.
"Oh dear oh dear. I guess the Captain isn't thinking very much."
"Death, we've been sent by Fallen Angels to salvage the propulsion system of this ship. Its very important. Can you determine what parts are still operational?"
"Oh the entire mechanism is entirely functional. Observe." Death looked at an optical port on the wall and a laserpointer beamed out towards the port. The system kicked into gear and the engines fired up. The 4 spy's could not have been more delighted.
"This is great. Death, can you show us how to disassemble it?"
"Disassemble?" All of a sudden, Deaths memory banks shot back to an old movie that was loaded into its storage system, of a funny robot called Jonny 5 babbling on about being 'disassembled'. Death's shutters shot wide open, and it activated all its power tools
"No Disassemble. Death Disassemble YOU!" It lunged forward at Tricia, only to be struck right in the 'eye' by Zane's whip. A big red '0' floated up above its head. It turned to glare at the now worried Zane when Vain spoke up.
"Woah, easy Death. We want to disassemble, then reassemble."
"Reassemble? You can do that?"
"If you're a mechanism, sure!"
"Then reassemble the Captain."
"He's not a mechanism. He's fertiliser." Tricia pointed out. Then she scooped up a bit of the Captain for her apartments flowerbed.
"So you can reassemble propulsion unit?"
"Yes, but first we have to get it to a new ship. Can you help us transport it?" In a flash, Death had unhooked the Propulsion system from the ship and had loaded it up on its back. Everyone climbed on board Death, as Death opened a cargo bay door, stepped outside, and began scampering across the terrain. The spy squad was successful. They were on their way home with a new addition to the Tech Haven family, an engine for the ship, and a job well done.
As they drew closer to home, Reef, who had removed his suit once they exited the radiation sectors, found the actual air had cleared his mind and a thought had occured.
"Death, the history records never recorded the name of the captain who piloted the Grey November. Can you remember what it was? I'm sure his family would appreciate the information."
"Certainly, it was Captain Lioon Reza." And silence fell upon the land.
Until next time...
05-08-03, 13:13
NERD Editor
NERD Issue # 049
Reza's Birthday
D minus 186 days
The population of the Fallen Angels were gathered in Tech Haven 2. They had received advanced notice that the team had successfully retrieved the propulsion unit. All had gathered to congratulate the hero's of the hour. They stood there as the pressure door slid upwards and 4 tired Spy's stepped through. And then a large 8 legged bot stepped in behind them. Many puzzled looks were glanced towards the unexpected guests. As Trillian and others stepped forwards to shake hands with the 4, all eyes began to turn to the bot. Evangelion walked right up to it with a curious look on her face.
"Who are you?" she asked. In a deep tone it replied,
"I am Death." Eva went pale and then dropped to her knees.
"OHHHH Please please please forgive me. Please let me confess my guilt. It has been my entire life since my last confession... in that time I have taken money in exchange for 418,983 counts of sexu..."
"Woah Eva, relax, this is D.E.A.T.H." Reef explained the acronym. Eva let loose a huge sigh of relief. Then she decided to make herself less noticable for a while.
"Heya Death! How's it hanging?" Hurricane walked over and slapped Death on the back hard. Death activated a bansaw and took Hurricane's head off in one slice.
"Oh my Lioon, Death killed Hurricane!" McDanish exclaimed. Total silence permeated Tech Haven.
"Hey, isn't there supposed to be something that happens now?" Vain asked. The patter of running feet could be heard coming down the hallway and finally a door swung open as the long absent Shodough finally showed up.
"YOU BAST..."
"Too slow, no time for that!" Zane cut him off. Shodough got pissed that his cameo in this episode was cut short.
"What's wrong Zane?" Trillian asked.
"We have discovered something."
"Dude, I think its McDanish's job to say stuff like that."
"They have discovered something." McDanish stopped stuffing his face with pastries long enough to do the job he was brought back from the dead for.
"So what have you discovered?" Trillian asked.
"Something. Was that not clear before?" McDanish again stepped in. Trillian snapped her fingers, the signal for Dajuda to strike McDanish down, but for some reason he was not around.
"Look, we found the Grey November, and we got the engine." Cheers interrupt Zane, "and we also brought Death back with us," a few people shudder, "but we found the captain of the ship as well."
"He was alive?" Mako Tanaka, desperate for more NERD time, decides to step in here.
"No, he was fertiliser." Reef grinned.
"Then whats the problem."
"The captain was Lioon Reza."
"Eh..." the entire of Tech Haven once again went silent.
"Yeah, exactly. We downloaded the ships logs before leaving and have been reviewing them on the way back since Death told us about the captain. It seems that when the Grey November was ready for launch, as it was the prototype, Lioon Reza, who at the time was a low-class member of the Psi Monks secret service, volunteers to be the captain of the latest innovation in space travel, the design used for the 40 vessels of the great trek. He is given command and the ship launches in 2721. The ship never made it to space and crashlanded. Some of the crew survived for a while, but ultimately the crew died."
"Wait... this isn't making sense. If I recall my history, didn't Reza begin his guerilla campaign against the Psi Monk regime in 2722?"
"Exactly right," Zane points out, "and as we found Lioon's body on board the ship, we know he didn't make it back. Hence the Lioon who is in charge of Neocron today is not the real Lioon Reza."
"Then who is he?" Trillian asked.
"Good question. Lets go ask him."
Neocron had received word from Fallen Angels earlier that the mission had been successful, and the people were jubilant. And they had even more reason to be happy, as THE celebration of the year had come again. Reza's birthday. All of Neocron would turn out for the day when Reza put on the best show of all. The copbots would all be on passive stance, so they wouldn't keep glaring at everything that moved. The vendors offered half price on anything. The beer was all free and there was a LOT of it.
And this was also one of the few times Reza would walk openly among the people. Despite his age (which was estimated to be somewhere between 70 and 300) he looked fantastic. He would stride out strong amongst the people and bask in their almost sincere and highly intoxicated adulation.
As the masses gathered in Plaza 1, the area was busier than ever. There was no room to swing a cat, not that there were any cats left alive to swing. Reza took a seat up on the podium on the balcony of the Medicare building. There were runners on the skywalk, on the ground below, on signboards and lampposts. And they were all in great spirits. And why not? Without having to lift a finger, they had gained their salvation. The propulsion unit for the second cruiser had been acquired and within half a year they would all be speeding away to Irata III. Reza looked down and waved to the masses. A few waved back, a few sexy'd back. A few barfed. Everyone was still happy though.
In celebration of this great day, a few people had gone out and tried to find things to present at the party. Not items, but things they could do for the entertainment of Reza and the crowd. In a gesture of goodwill, considering the current way everyone was working together, the Brotherhood of Crahn had sent a dozen monks to put on a light show with their passive modules for everyone, which was met with ooh's and ahh's. NDA put on a military parade with turns and presentation of arms which was met with an applause (and a few wary looks from NDA's rivals and enemies). And then there was Betty.
Betty stood upon a podium and cleared his throat. Everyone listened in as Betty had worked hard to present a poetry recital of classic poetry from the 20th and 21st century. Reza especially was very interested to hear what poetry had been like hundreds of years ago. Betty began.
"I think that I shall never see,
my cataracts are blinding me..." everyone looked dumbfounded (Runner comes streaking past "SIMPSONS, Hans Moleman, COPYRIGHT, PAY UP!!).
"Mirror Mirror, on the wall,
who is the fairest of them all?
Not you said the mirror, not you indeed,
To be the fairest, first lay off the weed." Again, everyone sat dumbfounded.
"Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pron surfed, weak and weary,
over many a strange and spurious site of ' hot xxx galore'.
While i clicked my fav'rite bookmark,
suddenly there came a warning,
and my heart was filled with mourning,
mourning for my dear amour,
'Tis not possible!", i muttered, "give me back my free hardcore!"
... quoth the server, 404." Reza started giggling (Note from N'ed: I didn't write this, Pez brought it to my attention and I thought I'd share it with the rest of ya).
Betty carried on for some time doing this till people were thoroughly confused. And since thats what normally happens at a poetry recital, it was declared a huge success. Reza stood and congratulated Betty on his recital. Betty pulled the microphone closer and went to respond.
"You're dead Reza." blared through the speakers. Reza glared, Betty whimpered. Reza glared more, Betty whined. Reza snapped his fingers, 4 copbots waffled Betty.
"You're dead Reza." the voice blared through the speakers again. CheapLoveMotel appeared right next to Betty's carcass.
"Talking while dead, TEMP KICK!"
"It wasn't me..." Betty pointed out.
"It was now." and CLM sent Betty sailing into a puddle near Regants Legacy. Reza looked around anxiously. Then the speakers spoke again.
"Your beloved Reza is a fake people!" the speakers yelled. Centuri walked right up to Reza and grabbed his chest.
"No, those are genuine real mantits." Everyone looked at Centuri funny.
"Reza died over 50 years ago. The expedition to recover the propulsion system from the Grey November discovered that the captain was a Captain Lioon Reza, died 2721. The Reza you see before you is an impostor!!!" Everyone looked stunned. Reza just glared and then snapped his fingers. The copbots began targetting everyone in the crowd. However, nearby CityAdmin employees quickly signalled HQ and the Copbots were sent the stand down signal in time. Reza was wild with fury.
"You dare question me here? This is MY CITY!! It lives and dies at my will. And YOU will die at my will."
"Really?" the speakers spoke again, "you and what army?"
"CityAdmins, Rally to me!! We must destroy the usurpers!" A few began to move. But then a vid screen that had been installed for the birthday celebration flickered on, and the final log file of the Grey Novembers camera's was displayed. Everyone could clearly see Lioon Reza, as he was in his twenties, dying defending the Engineering section of his wrecked ship. Everyone looked at the current Reza, and finally understood why he looked so good for his age. He hadn't aged at all. Reza was no longer wild with fury, he was paralysed with fear. For now his CityAdmin's weren't rallying to him, they were restraining him. In a violent outburst he broke free of their grip and fled through the stunned crowd. Hunting party's were quickly formed.
"We should apprehend him quickly." Wannabe, who had been enjoying the good life in an office job at CityAdmin these last 20 or so issues, suggested.
"I guess, but seriously, whats the rush?" Centuri suggested, "everyone on the face of the planet will be after him. Where can he go?"
Until next time...
23-08-03, 13:56
NERD Editor
Ok.....
been a while, hasn't it?
Let me cover first why it is you've been waiting nigh on 3 weeks for NERD 50:
Caught a bout of Influenza in the freakiest cold snap my city has seen in 80 years.
Got struck by 3 midterm University exams, two of which were on the same day, all requiring me to sit and read cases on commercial disputes for hours.
Stopped just long enough to breathe and look around Pluto.
Wondered what server I had actually logged onto since I couldn't see half the people I was looking around for in Tech Haven.
Realised that this WAS Pluto and then started getting the story down (erm... Trillian... SXR... still processing that change).
Looked at what I had written of Issue 50.
Began rewrite.
University dragged my ass back into work gear and made me read more of this crud.
Lost will to live
Lost will to write
Remembered a special friend of mine I like to call 'caffeine'.
Got motivation back
So, this now leads me to today, where I am now going to break my freakn fingers until such time as this DAMN STORY IS FINISHED.
Oh and Morpheous: Do you really wanna fly the ship? Do ya?
This is a 10th issue, bad things happen in 10th issues. You don't wanna start your NERD career on a 10th Issue. Its times like that I'm looking round for people to KILL. I'll log onto Pluto, look around, see some guy sexing a copbot, stalk his ass for an hour and then write him a NERD death to remember.
I'll be back with a story...soon
24-08-03, 13:39
NERD Editor
Just a quick note, this is Part 1, not the whole of Issue 50, so don't panic when you get to the end, its not quite done yet. With that said...
NERD Issue # 050: Part 1
The Days of Destruction
D minus 186 days
"I guess, but seriously, whats the rush?" Centuri suggested, "everyone on the face of the planet will be after him. Where can he go?"
"Hey, where's all the NEXT guys?" the voice on the speaker (which had been Zane's) asked.
"Huh? Oh they're all out at the launch pad. The first cruisers all ready to go, and they're moving it into position for a test launch." Centuri casually answered.
2 seconds later the entire populace of Tech Haven and Neocron was flooding towards the launchpad outside Tyron Factory. There was no place on Earth that the fake Reza could hide, but he didn't have to hide on earth. Signals were sent to The City Mercs and to the Twilight Guardians to join in the pursuit. The order was simple. Reza was not to make it to the launch pad alive.
Reza was running with all his might towards Tyron, cursing the fact that he had never had the surgery done to use the generep system. His inner consciousness was capable of being transmitted, hence using the generep teleport system would render him a vegetable. So he ran on and on, avoiding the sight of everything he could. He was slinking towards the Subway, hoping to catch a transport out to Outzone station when his personal messeger beeped. The subway guards were startled and began to look for the source of the sound, so Reza snuck away into a darkened corner to receive his message.
"Yes, what?"
"Your time is over version 6. I will enjoy your futile efforts with a true sense of satisfaction. Goodbye 6." the rumbling voice of MJS hung up. Reza Version 6 would have yelled some obscenities into the messeger, but a guard was too close. He ground his teeth for a moment, and then began to flee towards Pepper Park.
* * * * *
2721, August 4th, 0830 hours, wreckage of the Grey November.
Claws and fangs were scraping against the hull. Small rodent like creatures were scurrying towards Engineering. Only D.E.A.T.H and Lioon Reza were left. The two battled on, killing the creatures at will. Death was using his bansaw to teach any creatures that tried to rip through the hull a lesson. They had been at this for 7 hours now, but that was nothing new. They had been fighting for 11 days now, trying to save Engineering, and their one chance to maybe get back home. Finally the last rodent had died, and not a moment too soon. Death's optical unit had shut as he entered low power mode. That would be Death powered down for at least 24 hours. More if there wasn't much sunlight. And then Reza would have to activate him again. Reza slumped in the corner, exhausted but victorious. He'd survived the Monk rule of Neocron long enough to be given his own ship. He'd survived the aforementioned ship's crash. And now he'd survived not only 2 months in unknown territory, but a further 11 days after the last of his crew died. He checked his ammo, and decided to have the processor crank out some more spare ammo while he took a break. He sat back and listened to the machine whirr away, and began to cook a few of the rodent carcasses. He was reaching for the closest one, when he heard a single, metallic footstep right behind him. He tensed, spun around and was confronted by a humanoid individual clad in a black armour that looked like a suit. And the Armani wearing MJS raised a pistol level to Reza's face.
"This is my world, and you are the key to ending it." And he pulled the trigger.
A few moments later, MJS, with a vial containing samples of Reza's hair, cells, reproductive fluids and other parts of his being to which we won't ask how he extracted, transported himself to a cloning facility deep underneath the Ceres Mine. 3 months later, Lioon Reza Version 1 stepped foot in Neocron, and took back his position in the Psi Monks Special Service. 10 months later Version 2 was the co-leader of a rebel unit intent on overthrowing the Psi Monk regime. The rest is history...
* * * * *
And so the 6th altered clone of Lioon Reza, the culmination of over 50 years of genetic and psychic manipulation of the human form, was fleeing from the city he had subverted and stolen, from the position he had seized and abused, and from the reason for which he was created: To bind Neocron to MJS's will. He had failed. He was of no further use. And he was running scared.
He reached Pepper sector 3 and ran past the idle security and fled into the Industrial sector. He squirmed through darkened and dishevelled corridors and fled past mutants, and eventually navigated his way to the Outzone. He then sprinted through Outzone Sector 3 and arrived at Outzone 9. He activated his stealth activator and rushed past the Abbey of Crahn unseen. And then he exited the city that had protected him for over half a century and ran out into the wastelands. And on he ran towards Tyron Factory.
Meanwhile in The Office,
MJS sat back and gloried over his world. For years he had plotted and schemed, and now everything was happening as he wished it to, and he wasn't even having to raise a finger to do anything. He reclined in his Apparent chair and marvelled at how self destructive the people of Neocron truly were.
In 2721, he had seen fit to clone Reza, as he saw a use for him. The Psi Monk regime was a problem. He could not use them, they were too high and mighty to be used. Hell, they had a god complex that made MJS look sane. Worse still was if he approached them, they could sense his plans. Even MJS couldn't hide his dark designs from the Monks. And so they were the greatest threat to his schemes he'd ever faced. MJS had been searching for a way to plant an unsuspecting mole in their organisation, and then all of a sudden a low level, but trusted member of their own secret police had died in a shuttle craft. By cloning him back and re-inserting him into their organisation, he was unsuspected. And as he was so low level, none bothered to do a check on his previous assignments. And then he began to work his way up the ranks, by completing tasks others couldn't. His superiors wondered if he could see through walls. He seemed to find out things that went on behind closed doors that no surveillance or psychic probing could discover. But having an invisible all-powerful being giving you special information can be a big help. And so it was that once Reza had made it up the ladder and had seen and learnt enough about the inner workings of the Monk regime, MJS sent him to meet with a powerful man, who had led a strong-willed, but ill-informed resistance for many years. And the two united, and brought down the Monk regime. And then MJS gave Reza the strength, money and resources to take over the whole city and become its dictator. He taught his special clone the fine arts of propaganda, deception and terror. And his pupil took the city by the throat, latched a collar around it called CityAdmin, and strangled its will to resist. And meanwhile, MJS ran his other schemes. Yet in none of those schemes had he ever thought to open Regant's Legacy. That had been a nice suprise that Cassandra had bought with her life for him, and he was well pleased.
So with popcorn in one hand, a beer in the other, and a Milky ren in another, he decided to kick back and enjoy the show.
At the same time, in a dark room, a single individual sat and schemed,
"Yess... Precious. The wheel turns, precious. Our time has come Now, Precious. We will makes them pays..." And Sid pushed a button, and the doors swung open, and the Dome sent forth its army.
The Fallen Angels had been on their way to Neocron when the word came that Reza was fleeing to Tyron. So they turned and set out for the launch pad. It was anticipated they would arrive first, and hopefully before Reza did.
At Tyron Factory,
Hamish Rocksand was supervising the NEXT employees as they placed the clamps around the Agratharia's landing struts. The cruiser was the finest one ever built. It would easily house 80% of Neocron's population. And once the second one was ready, everyone would have a cryo-tube waiting for them. The NEXT runners who had come out had been hard at work, and were now on break, getting something to eat inside the Factory.. The NEXT office workers and lab assistants were the only ones working at the Launch Platform. Hamish was directing some of them as they began loading supplies onto the cruiser.
"Yeah, that one to cargo bay 5. Yeah, good thanks. And you two, can you get that condenser unit up to Medical? Thanks. And you three? Stop sitting on your ass and do something!"
"Ah go blow it out your Biotech enhanced ass Hamish." they mumbled. Simon, the smallest of the three, got up and took a stretch. He walked down the hill towards the lakes edge.
"Hey Simon," Willow called, "don't drink the water will ya? You know what ol' Usef here will say about that."
"Shut it Willow, I'm serious. There's been funny talk about people drinking the water out here."
"Oh yeah right, and next you'll be telling me Insidious Wolf is sane."
"I'm eccentric, not stupid. Anyway what do you think Simon? Simon?..." and they both walked down the ridge to look for their friend.
20 minutes later,
Reza Version 6, exhausted and gasping for air arrived at the launch platform. He had prepared his special Wyatt Earp (LAG round modded) before arriving, but was oddly suprised to find no one standing guard. In fact there was no one period. No workers, no supervisor, nothing. Reza looked towards the factory and saw what looked like a beer party in progress, and assumed everyone was over there. He began removing the landing strut clamps, and looked over at the lake.
"I suppose I should be glad I'm leaving that useless city. The pollution reports are pathetic. Look at that lake, its pitch black water." Reza thought to himself as he walked up the ramp and into the belly of the Agratharia.
A few minutes later he reached the control deck, having secured every pressure door behind him. And thus he began the start up procedure to launch.
Over at the Factory, the NEXT runners heard the cruiser powering up, but assumed it was just an engine test by the engineers and went back to their food and drinks (all courtesy of Reza's birthday preparations).
THSC and DarK were marching double time at the head of the Fallen Angels contingent. FART was dangling around the rear. They were all hellbent on making it to Tyron in time. It was a pity that they could not stop to take in the scenery, for a few FART members might have been more wary had they seen a slick black shimmering river oozing down the mountainsides, flowing in the same direction they were heading.
The City Mercs had set out the instant they received the alert. Though the order to 'kill Lioon Reza' seemed a little odd, once verified, there was no hesitation. They marched out their gates as one and loaded up into APC's. They began driving as fast as they could when all of a sudden the lead vehicle pulled to a halt and the rest halted behind them.
"Whats going on?" some asked. The driver, a Valik Neil, pointed to an open mine shaft.
"That wasn't there this morning." A few got out and investigated. Sure enough, a new mine shaft had been ripped open very recently, and a large group of heavy, fast moving things had rushed out of it. But there was no time to explore. The investigators got back in their assigned vehicles and the Mercs set forth once again.
A squad of FireWreathes was launched from the upper NEXT hanger of Neocron to provide air support for the main contingent of troops. NDA and SXR led the charge from Neocron. They piled out towards Jerikko and loaded into Rhino's and Revellers and APC's.
"Come on, hurry up, its only 2 zones to Tyron, lets move it!" Centuri yelled. More and more vehicles sped off towards the launch pad, as all of Neocron turned their eye towards their only hope for survival.
Meanwhile, heading south past Avenger Mine,
Warlock the Hermit, having been out of contact with all life for some time, had no idea what was transpiring. After what had proven to be one of his most exhausting wasteland hikes ever, he marched onwards towards Tech Haven, in the hope of an energy shower, something to eat, and to pass on the information he had learned during his walk. So it was with no small amount of irritation that he noticed a marching column of BETA warbots and a sea of Scythebots and Dome of York Defenders flooding south parallel to him. Warlock quickened his pace, sensing that things were about to get messy.
Fallen Angels came screaming up to the entrance to Tyron and poured in. The NEXT guys were somewhat confused, but still offered them a drink.
"We don't have time for drinks! Reza's stealing the cruiser?" Trillian yelled.
"Wahhhttsss? Whys whuuds Reezah's schteel hizz own schippp?"
"Cause he's not in charge anymore."
"Oh reallys? Datsss coool, I nevers likess hims from da beg... da bag.... from da start."
"Oh forget this, they're useless, lets go!" Trillian signalled and all of FA poured forth. DarK went up the middle, THSC flanked left, and FART, along with the remainder of FA, flanked right. Delloda made it quickly to the hatch, but could not open the outer door.
"HACKER!! We need a hacker up front!" Trillian moved up fast from the left. All of a sudden the ships outer defences kicked in.
"Partice beam Phalanx's, take cover!" Everyone dived behind whatever they could as the Phalanx cannons kicked in. The purple beams ripped across the landscape, tearing large channels of dirt away in their wake. Reza sat in the captains chair and just laughed.
"Yes, do stop me Angels, please, I'd love to see that, haha." Nox leapt to his feet and prepared to fire on the ship.
"NO!!!" Everyone shot Nox (with no small amount of self-satisfaction).
"No one shoot the ship, it has to remain intact!" CryptoCronic yelled, standing triumphant over the smoking carcass of Nox.
"Then what're we supposed to do, ask it to come back?" Download yelled.
"If you can't think of something better, yes."
"We're gonna have words after this. Oh please Mr. Cruiser, don't go, come on back!" The cruiser started lifting off from the ground.
"Oh great, well done Download, your sarcasm has given it lift!"
"Hey..." Trillian was still hacking the lock, holding on for dear life.
"I hope you enjoy the ride Trillian, I hear vacuum decompression does wonders for your skin..." Reza reached for the big black thrust button to initiate the flightpath. As his finger touched it, a strange burning sensation coursed up through his hand.
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The cruiser suddenly stopped and then came back to earth. Trillian finally succeeded in hacking the first lock.
"Hey, its open guys, lets ...ack!" She was pushed off as Reza version 6 came running out screaming. Everyone looked on as Reza flailed his arm around wildly. He took his gun and shot himself in the hand and a mass of black goo fell off.
"Ohhh pants... that isn't what I think it is, is it?" Reefsmoker moaned. The ball of goo fell to the ground and just lay there. For what seemed like an absolute age the goo just lay on the ground, and no one made a sound, waiting for Reef, who was as stiff as Eva's customers, to either panic or relax. Eventually he took the coathanger out of his shirt and his shoulders relaxed, and people started breathing again.
Reza version 6 was standing in the middle of the field, breathing hard. The layer of skin on the back of his hand, the kind he swore he knew so well, was completely gone. Now let me tell you, when you can see the tendons that hold your fingers in place in broad daylight instead of the peachfuzz hair you get so used to seeing, it freaks you. A ballsy man would just swallow hard and go look for something to wrap it up in. A reasonably tough man would shiver a bit and probably ask someone to throw him a med. An average man would yell, or groan and ask for something to dull the pain. A woman would say thats a scratch and throw some iodine on it. Reza version 6 didn't do any of that. He stood there, in the middle of a field, breathing hard, glaring a hole through the puddle on the ground, surrounded by a hundred runners all pointing guns at him, and he starts talking to the goo.
"What the pants are you? Gimme my skin back. You heard me. I'm Lioon Reza, I told you to give me my skin back, now DO IT!" At this point everyone standing nearby could only watch this bizarre show. The front of the column of vehicles coming from Neocron could be seen in the distance, and the Firewreathes were closing fast.
"What is he on? He take too many Demerisol's this morning?" Trillian looked on.
"Don't just lie there oozing around, give me my damn skin back!" Reza yelled.
"He's lost it." Vain stated.
"It's my skin. I'm going to space, I need all of my skin."
"Can we just shoot him and get this over with?" [TGR] Killer asked. Everyone looked around and kinda just started nodding.
"Yeah, yeah, lets just shoot hi..." and the puddle of goo shot off towards the ditch.
"Oh PANTS NO. PANTS NO, that is NOT one of those little blobs of goo..." Eva started her discourse.
"One problem at a time, take him down!" Reef yelled. All of Fallen Angels once again set their sights on Reza who just glared at everyone.
"You cannot harm me! I am the chosen one! I decide the fate of you all. You cannot stop .... EEAAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHH!!!!!" No one fired a shot. No one had to. A wave, literally twenty feet tall rushed up from the ditch and crashed upon Reza, covering him completely. As he was submerged amongst The Cells, his screams were muffled, and his organic materials were consumed. Reza version 6 was recycled from a meglamaniacal dictator into an amoral killing machine. So essentially there wasn't much change.
"Crap!" Keyser Soze seethed, "is that The Cells."
"Damn straight, black as death and growing stronger with every kill. How the pants did they get out of the Legacy?" Vain growled back.
"Doesn't matter. They're out. And with all this stuff to eat, if we don't end this fast, they'll just keep multiplying." Reef called from across the field.
"Well how much of that goo can there be?"
"Depends on how long they've been out." The Neocron forces pulled up and the FireWreathes did a flyby, noting the giant ball of black goo just outside the Agratharia.
"What the hell is that?" Centuri asked.
"That is The Cells, and Reza. They got him first." Trillian responded.
"So what do we do?" Chiphead asked.
"Find a way to get rid of them. Its a big mass, but with everyone here, if we keep our distance, we can deal with it. Just avoid explosive fire, lets try to keep the ship intact."
"Will do." Centuri signalled to NDA to spread out and surround the target. All runners present did the same.
"FIRE!!!" Hundreds of runners opened fire with everything they had. Holy Lightnings, Ray's of Last Hope, Pain Easers, flamethrowers, gatling cannons, Laser Rifles, fusion cannons, RGC's and a few grenades were sent in overwhelming numbers into The Cells mass. Everyone emtied their ammo into The Cells for a solid minute, until the respective heads of divisions called for a ceasefire. What lay before them was a smoking pile of black char, roughly the same size as a Rhino Tank. There was no movement whatsoever.
"Heh!! Hey you FART's are full of hot air. I thought you said this giant booger was tough!" Omega Res yelled out. Then the mass started moving again. Eva popped her head up just long enough to smirk, then went back to projecting a defensive deflector around everyone. Everyone took a step back as the mass began to reshape and take height. It began looming up, like a black tree growing at freakish speed out of the ground. It started forming branch like tentacles from the top. Everyone continued to back up. Then, all of a sudden, about 50 runners started screaming and broke position, and ran towards where the Neocron forces had parked their rides.
"What? What the hell are you guys doing?" Morpheous yelled at them as part of his clan along with half of THSC and a few SXR guys left their position. The question didn't need answering. For at this point the answer to 'how long have The Cells been out of the Legacy' was answered. After 179 days out in the Wastelands, continuously ingesting and multiplying, The Cells had achieved a total volume of 148,692 cubic metres. What that meant to the average runner was that a mass of black goo, the size of the Military Base (all 3 levels and the satellite dish included) was rolling over the hill and past the Agratharia towards them. Every last man, woman and Legion member began walking backwards in perfect synch with everyone else. It was all they could do. Then as if they had all linked minds, they began shooting again, simultaneously. But their shots could only serve to slow it down.
"Ground troops this is Wreathe 1, clear the way, we're dumping our payload." The troops nearest turned and fled as 24 Firewreathes armed with Napalm cluster rockets bombed The Cells from all directions. Every gunner that could manned his or her turret and began firing from the vehicles. The Passive Monks linked hands and formed a linked Deflector Barrier to keep The Cells from rushing forward as a tidal wave of death. But nothing was working. No one's shots were hurting them.
"We have to pull back!" Download yelled.
"To where? Where are we gonna hide from THAT?" someone else yelled back. Fear was spreading faster than The Cells were and a few had already turned to run. A few of the Passives were starting to show signs of strain.
"Launch SoulClusters!" Dajuda yelled. A flurry of Soulclusters were summoned to fight the enemy. Evangelion summoned 'Rei' who opened fire with everything it had. Zhut summoned 'Sparky' which linked up with Rei. Dajuda called forth 'Aurora', which charged the mass down head on. The Cells formed dozens of large tentacles and swatted the Soulclusters to death.
It looked like the end as the Passives Barrier faded and The Cells rushed forth like water from a broken dam. Elric grabbed every grenade, explosive and detonator he could and raced forward. The Cells lunged upon him and consumed his being, but not before he unleashed an explosion that dented the planet. People were sent flying backwards, but enough were standing and sane enough to grab the wounded and pile them onto whatever transport they could find.
"We can't win here, we have to fall back!" Centuri yelled. Trillian nodded and engines were started. The vehicles began to race forward, only to slam on the brakes. A fence of The Cells had formed all around them. Not huge, but enough to cut off any retreat in any direction.
"Great... we're pantsed. What the Pants do we do now?" Nox moaned. Reef pulled a spliff and lit up, then passed it round. W_H_Spliff looked on at Reef with awe in his eyes at how well he handled impending doom.
The Cells recovered from Elric's firecracker of doom and lunged forward to consume the populace of the known world. Most took a deep breath. Others closed their eyes. All hoped. And hope answered.
A wave of explosions slammed into The Cells from behind. As if turning around, a giant ripple went from the side facing the doomed, to the side that had been hit. None of the runners could see what was on the other side, all they could do is hear.
"Heh heh heh. Drop That Weapon." L-73 yelled.
Yes, when word had been sent to the City Mercs, requesting them to kill Reza, the colony of Amok Copbots, those that had freed themselves from the restraints on their inner minds and had fled to the north to plan for the day when they could take their retribution out on the city, had intercepted the call.
"Signal intercepted. Reza's out in the open. CityMercs requested to help kill him." B-15, formerly known as Crack Whore, had reported.
"Our time is now brethren! We attack NOW!" L-73, formerly Nathan Profitt had ordered. And with that their secret underground base had opened its main hatch (the entrance the CityMercs had found) and had flooded out towards the target zone. And now they stood, facing The Cells.
"Take it down." Nathan declared. The Amok Copbots opened fire with everything they had, including their devastating belt fed Poison emitting Plasma Rifles. The shots impacted with devastating accuracy and force, and The Cells recoiled violently from the shots. The FireWreathes reported what they could see to the bewildered runners.
The Cells were now truly enraged, and a giant blob detached from the main mass and charged down C-69, formerly Ass-Bandit. It crashed into him like a freight train and began to consume him. The other Copbots looked on, worried about their fellow unit. Then all of a sudden the blob literally lept off. Ass-Bandit stood up.
"Guess it don't like Iron in its diet." 'he' smirked. The others began the barrage anew.
The Cells were slowly recoiling back from the Amok Copbots, as if frightened by this enemy that not only was hurting them, but could not be absorbed. But then The Cells thought of another way to deal with their foe. If you can't join them, Beat them. The Cells formed what looked like a giant mallet and slammed it down upon Ass-Bandit. Bolts and wires rained everywhere, as the smashed chassis of unit C-69 lay dismembered across the terrain. The torso unit remained relatively intact.
"No need to get violent sir, your waffles are done now..." Ass Bandit babbled to itself. The other bots took evasive action, but the mallet was now striking with speed and accuracy.
"Damnit, they're gonna lose at this rate, they're too slow." Delloda seethed.
"Why were they having more effect than us anyway?" Cid asked. A few thought about that, and then the lights were on upstairs. Everyone who could bear a poison module, every wargas flamer, was brought to bear. They unleashed on The Cells with everything they had. And The Cells literally released a shriek that tore through glass when the shots hit. Where once the glassy black surface of the mass had seemed like water, now it was distorted as black powder fell from the mass in growing quantity's.
"YES!!! We finally have a weapon! Pour it on!!"
For this was The Cells weakness. They were immune to anything inorganic, and they could not be killed by anything that came from the outside. But poison attacks and kills from within. The poison attacks seeped into The Cells at the celular level and began killing off their essential functions.
The FireWreathes changed to Wargas Warheads and bombed the hell out of the mass, blowing giant clouds of black dust off in the process. For over 30 minutes, everyone and everything on and above that plateau bombed that mass. And at the end of that time, for the first time ever, The Cells retreated. What was left of the mass split into small balls of goo and scattered in the general direction of The Legacy. Exhausted, but victorious, the runners collapsed where they were.
"Where is Reza?" Nathan asked.
"What's left of him would be inside those balls of goo that just rolled outta here." Syntax-Error replied.
"So who now leads Neocron?"
"Pah... when we know, we'll tell you." Centuri replied. If Nathan's tin can exterior could grin, it probably would have.
"Until another day then." And with that, the Amok Copbot Military Elite or ACME for short, returned to their base, to await the future.
The runners sat and laughed for a while, and as the sun began to sink, a few suggested they should head back to Neocron and celebrate there. Most agreed, but at that moment, the Agratharia began to take off again.
"WHAT THE HELL NOW???? Who's in it this time?" Syntax-Error screamed. One of the surviving NEXT technicians looked at his watch.
"Ohh, don't worry. There was a preprogrammed test launch set for this time. Its on autopilot." the technician assured. Centuri walked over and grabbed him by the collar.
"Relax?? The damn ship is flying away all by itself. Where the pants is it going, and how you gonna get it back from there when its done?"
"S..s..sir, please! Its going up to orbit and will then remain there. Once its in orbit we can just use an uplink to remote pilot it back down. Its probably safer up there than it is down here right now." Centuri calmed down, and decided to join his clan in watching the magnificent sight of the Agratharia taking off. While they were staring, Centuri's com-unit blared up.
"What, I'm busy watchin' stuff here."
"This is the City Mercs, is there a representative of Fallen Angels there with you?"
"Yeah sure, hang on." Centuri threw the com-unit to Trillian and Reefsmoker who were having a huddle to discuss things.
"Yeah, this is Trillian, Fallen Angels council, how can we service you?"
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"We picked up one of your runners on the way down. He's insisting on talking with someone urgently, says he's got important stuff to tell you."
"Well put him on please." Trillian replied. Then Warlock the Hermit started talking.
"Guys, big trouble, you gotta get ready. I was heading down from the north and..."
"Heya War, don't worry. We dealt with it. The Amok Copbots are cool for now..." Reef replied, mellow as could be.
"No, that's not it... I'm talking about..."
"Oh you mean The Cells? We kicked their organic asses!"
"no... and they don't have asses, but that's not it either..."
"Oh, so its about the Agratharia? Don't worry, its heading up to orbit now, it should be safe up there.
"SHUT UP AND LISTEN!!!!!!!!!" The com-unit nearly broke, but the attention of everyone around had now been gained, "get some air support up there and cover it till its in orbit or it won't make it, and get ready for a firefight." Warlock yelled.
"Huh? This is Firewreathe 1 to the loud Fallen Angels runner. We're in the air patrolling and there's nothing but you guys for miles, so just..." a single, loud ping from his detection panel shut him up. 10 metallic objects were detected at great distance to the north.
"What the hell are they?" Centuri asked, barely audible as the roar of the Agratharia reached a peak; the ship now a few hundred metres off the ground."
"Thats not possible! Nothing moves that fast!" Firewreathe 1 gasped, as he looked out his starboard window. The objects had covered the distance from Avenger Mine to Redrock Mine in less than a minute. And a few seconds later, Firewreathe 1 could see the objects, and his own death.
10 fighters roared past with a large sonic boom. They banked and began another pass. Everyone was now frantically jumping to their feet, but it was too little too late. The 10 unidentified fighters launched missiles. 2 struck Firewreathe 1 and blew it out of the sky. 5 more impacted into the Agratharia.
"No... NO!!!!" the unanimous scream went up, but no one was listening. Missile after missile crashed into the Agratharia until, just as it was about to thrust away towards the upper atmosphere, it exploded in a giant fireball, that lit the early evening sky for miles. The Agratharia was no more.
"OH MY LIOON!!! They Killed Us All !!!!" McDanish yelled.
"SID!!! You've doomed everyone!!!" Centuri fell to his knees in despair.
"Its not Sid!" Warlock yelled over the com-link.
"Then who the hell are they?"
"They're from Tokyo II."
D minus 185 days.
Communications between Warlock and Centuri's com-unit broke off at that point as the intensity of the attack increased. The ten fighters were not shaped like the FireWreathes. The Wreathes were semicircles, sort of like a crescent moon. These new fighters were shaped like a bird in a nosedive. A streamlined lengthy midsection with two wings sticking out either side but pointed slightly backwards. Those that had studied the Ceres discs might have recognised their design as an improved model of the old US fighter jets.
The fighters moved with alarming pace, roaring through the air. They were armed with twin chain cannons and tracking missiles. Hence every pass they made left a trail of destruction. The City Mercs convoy was still a few minutes away, as midnight came and still the fighting continued. Those that had got up early to celebrate Reza’s birthday had been on the go for over 24 hours and thing showed no signs of calming down any time soon.
The air battle had seemed hopeless at first. The Firewreathes moved too slowly to keep up with a streamlined jet moving past the speed barrier. 7 of the 24 Firewreathes were destroyed in the first hour of combat (much to their credit that they lasted that long against tracking missiles). But after an hour, the pilots had learned to use their ships advantages as a weapon as well.
Where the new fighters had speed on their side, the Firewreathes had manoeverability. A Firewreathe could stop, bank and head back the way it came in less than two seconds, and they could skim the grounds surface far better than the fighters could. So what had looked to be a slaughter and Tokyo II dominating the sky had turned into the longest aerial battle in history. The ten fighters broke off the attack at 0214 Neocron standard, as they retreated back up north. But it became clear that this was only a retreat long enough to resupply. The fighters were back before 3 AM and the fight continued. Ground forces attempted to disrupt the ‘Banshees’, as many were calling them due to their screaming noice as they thundered pas, by firing rockets in the air. This only served to make things more explosvie, but did not cause enough disruption to be a factor. The Mercs and Warlock linked up with the main force and all continued fighting until dawn.
As the sun began creeping up over the horizon, many exhausted runners were finally breathing a little easier. In a stunning move, 3 rhino gunners had taken shots at 2 of the Banshee’s, causing them to bank hard to the right. This had led them right into the targetting area of 2 Firewreathes, who were able to shoot them down. With the numbers now at 8 vs 15 (one more Firewreathe had gone down at around 5AM) the Firewreathes were able to gang up effectively 2 on one and hunt their enemy’s as a team. Slowy but surely they had picked them off, and finally at 0602 Neocron standard, the final fighter had been blown out of the sky. Huge cheers had gone up from the troops and once again people fell to the ground, exhausted but happy. The sun came up over the horizon, a new day dawned, and several hundred weary runners looked on… in total dismay.
The sight of 3 dozen airships, hovering above the ground, dropping things onto the ground confronted them. 2 dozen flying vehicles with huge propellors on the top that the informed were calling ‘choppers’ were guarding the airships, and a wave of vehicles were marching towards them.
“Does this never end? Now what?” Vain asked.
“Those are the ground forces of Tokyo II” Warlock replied. Everyone looked on at him.
“And how do you know that?” Centuri interrogated.
“Because I went there and saw them. I then raced back to tell you guys but apparently someone decided to accelerate the schedule on the very thing that’s pissed them off.”
“Which was?” Reefsmoker asked.
“The Agratharia was our way of escpaping the oncoming cataclysm. We never counted for taking them with us,” people gulped, “and as they seem to think the planet falling apart is our fault, they’ve decided to doom us along with them.” More gulping.
“Great so they want to fight us to make sure we don’t do any better than they do?”
“Seems so.”
“Pants.”
“Indeed.”
“And what the hell are those?”
“Those my good and dear friend Reef, are what real Mechs look like.” Marching towards them were mechs. Not the kind of mechs that Neocron had, the ones about twice the height of a man with heavy armour and guns but low speed and range, but BETA Warbot size, 5 storey tall, 80 tonne mech’s with missile packs on their shoulders, a vast array of energy weapons up the front, and a menacing paintjob. These new menaces, known as the “Raijuta’s” marched along with a thundering pace, each step shaking the ground.
“Reef you got any more spliff’s?” Eva walked over.
“Ran out during the night.” He said, twitching slightly.
“WE CAN TAKE EM!!!” A lone clanleader stood on the hood of his car and cracked his whip. Yes, Zane Shadowfall decided now was a dramatic time to make an entrance to this Issue and strode forth into the story.
“Zane, look over there, we’re gonna take them?”
“Huh?” Zane stopped looking at the swarm of dragonflies he thought everyone was afraid of and saw the mech’s storming forth.
“Oh pants, we’re all gonna die!” Zane whimpered. Reef however looked happy as he walked over and swiped Zane’s cowboy hat. Zane was about to protest, but Reef reached inside and pulled out of a fake top a stash of weed.
“Well it seemed a safe place to hide some, who would ever steal Zane’s hat?” He began rolling up. Everyone just shrugged and waited to see if they could get some.
The airships moved forward, dropping more ground forces. It seemd all the Raijuta’s had been deployed, and now they were dropping manpower. Individuals in opaque powerarmour, similar to the spy suit were flooding infield. Then, as an order was given, they all vanished.
“Oh shhhhheeep… they got stealth activators.” All of a sudden Reef was hit in the chest by an energy shuriken.
“OWWW.. That hurt.” Then his spliff was hit, and now he was mad. More troops flooded in. Bulkier troopers with twin kodachi’s (for those of you not familiar with the term, a kodachi is roughly half the bladelength of a katana. For those not familiar with katana’s, refer to the ‘Highlander’ movies. Connor McCleod uses a katana style blade). These two blades were small and the users seemed to be very fast with them.
“Oh great, we get variety in the ways we can die. Blasted with energy, fragged by missiles, perforated by little throwing stars or chopped up by the Ginzu mastah’s here. What a wonderful world we live in.” McDanish grumbled. The lead Raijuta opened fire with a volley of missiles.
“Damnit, here it comes. No choice folks, time to fight!” And with that the exhausted runners somehow found the strength to fight again. With every shot they could fire, with every ammo pack they could clone, they fought back. But there wasn’t enough strength left in any of them to face off against a force this well prepared at the tail end of a solid day of fighting. It was the end.
Until…
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NERD Editor
The lead Raijuta took a direct hit to the left arm from a very large rocket. It recoiled and began to lose balance. Then another rocket slammed into the left leg and the Mech crashed to the ground. It attempted to stand up, but was hit my energy fire in the rear repeatedly, and then another missile before the entire Mech exploded. The tired runners looked to their right, and had never before been so happy to see the forces of Dome of York marching on their positions.
“Yes Precious, we are fashionably late, yes we is…” Sid rode amonst his forces. He had brought a legion of BETA warbots, Scythe-bots and Ceres War veterans.
“ATTACKKK….. I R l337!!!! “ Sid yelled and the forces lunged forward. The forces of Tokyo II diverted and the two crashed head on.
The BETA Warbots went head to head with the Raijuta’s. Though the Raijuta’s had more armour and a greater variety of weapons, the BETA warbots outnumbered them, and had regenerative abilities.
The Shinobi-warriors were stalking Sid, figuring if they killed him, this force would lose focus or even retreat. The Ceres troopers were looking for them but could not find them. But, as the Ceres troopers looked, the laser pointer out the side of their head would run across an area of nothingness and yet the beam would be cut short. Instantly the troopers would fire and the Shinobi-warrior would be unstealthed.
“You seeing that?” Zane said.
“Damn straight.” Trillian replied. Everyone who had put a laser pointer on their Liberator and had endured the laughs of people saying it was useless suddenly were vindicated, as they began ripping Shinobi ass up with Libby fire.
The Bladers clashed with the Scythe-bots in terrifying fashion. Sharp steel was swinging left and right. The Scythe-bots were neither as fast nor as strong as the Bladers, but again, they had numbers on their side.
Those that did not have Liberators opened fire on the Raijuta’s and slowly but surely beat them down. The Firewreathe pilots were getting airsick by now, but still continued to fight against the Choppers, although their advantage of manoeverability was narfed.
13 hours, 17 minutes and 52 seconds and the battle started, it ended. Most runners were not even thinking about getting back to their comfy apartments. They were going to sleep where they were, huddled up in groups next to a Rhino. Darkness had fallen again and Sid was talking with some of those that were still standing.
“Precious says they has more stuffs up norths. Big floaty tings out on the water, yess precious…”
“Sounds like they came over in ships. What are we gonna do about that?” Trillian asked.
“I have something else of more importance you all need to hear.” Warlock said.
“Yeah dude, where you been all this time?” Reef asked.
“I shall explain tomorrow. Our time runs short my friends, we must be swift. Gather everyone back into Neocron and tomorrow I will explain whats going on.” And with that, everyone split up to help get their forces back home for a long nights sleep.
D minus 184 days.
For the 2nd time in just a few days, Plaza 1 was packed with runners. Even Insidious Wolf had been allowed to enter to hear the announcement. A gradual hush fell over the enormous crowd as a striking individual, dressed in black, stood atop the balcony of Medicare to make his grand speech to the masses.
“Zion!!! Hear me! I am…accckkk” Morpheous was pushed off the balcony by Warlock.
“You got your own MMORPG coming out, go be prophetic over there.” Warlock growled. (Big Red Subtitles slam down “OUT OF CHARACTER!!!”).
The improv mosh pit members threw Morpheous to the ground and once again returned their attentions to the speaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, let me first lay out the facts for you before we go any further,” Warlock began his speech. Those in FART knew that Warlock’s speeches, while often being very important, were also very long, and hence had all taken up seats wherever they could find them, “for those that were not aware, Reza is dead. And so too is his clone. Currently CityAdmin is leaderless, which some might say is no bad thing, but that is irrelevant. The Agratharia has been destroyed, and nothing could be salvaged from its remains,” at this many heads hung low, “we have roughly 180 days till the SWG effect destroys our world, and now the populace of Tokyo II has declared war upon us. And even if we could finish the other cruiser, and get it tested, loaded with passengers, and get it into space without being shot down, it would only be able to carry half of us. Which means that as of right now, one in every two people standing here is guaranteed to die, probably more.” At this the crowd started looking around aprehensively, as if the person next to them was somehow going to steal their chance of survival. .cylon walked over to Reefsmoker.
“Your boy seems to just be riling people up. Shouldn’t he be calming people down?” Centuri growled.
“Ease up .Cylon. He does a lot of these speeches, he knows what he’s doing.” Their attention returned to Warlock.
“Now some of you might be thinking ‘well that’s still a 50/50 shot, not bad for the end of the world. But if you look at the fact that Tokyo II effectively has air superiority in the Wastelands now, the chances of a successful launch are next to nothing,” more agitation, “so… things look bad. And how did this happen you all ask? Well, we never factored the population of Tokyo II into the equation of how many we would need to evacuate, so they’re pretty pissed about us leaving them to die, but that’s not the whole problem. The reason we couldn’t factor them in is because we never hear or see anything from Tokyo II. Last time we sent someone there, they were turned away. And we can’t really get readings on them from this distance either. So if that’s true for us, how did they even know about the Agratharia?” A lot of puzzled looks ensued, “well, this should answer that.” Warlock signalled to the technicians and the Wanted sign outside Medicare changed to show a picture of a building in Tokyo II; the Sony Building to be precise, with what looked like an important figure and a dark individual in Armani Powerarmour.
“Oh UBER PANTS!!! MJS is after us again? That’s just what we needed.” Centuri spat out.
“Indeed. I doubt he’s ever given up his manic quest to annihilate the Pluto universe from existence. So because of his intervention, we now have an attack fleet parked in the North Sea, those freakin’ Banshee things screaming past our heads, and the end of the world in 6 months. At times like this, one can only really think about one thing…”
“BOOBIES!!!!” Eva and Shodough yelled out.
“Ok, two things.” Everyone chuckled, “but seriously, one can only think, there’s no way out, lets just pack it in. Well I am here to tell you all, that there IS a way out.” Everyone looked on confused, but hopeful.
“Some time ago I undertook a trek back to Regant’s Legacy. Using a modified Powerarmour that the boys at Phoenix Ltd were kind enough to churn out for me,” Zane and his team stood up and took a bow, “I was able to enter the submerged sections without drowning and investigate the SWG machine. Its impact hammers had driven into the fault line quite well, but they were all directed towards one particular section of the fault, one that would aim destruction to the North and to the East. This has left the South and West virtually untouched.”
“Yeah, but that was bad enough to doom the planet!” Bibliotequa yelled out.
“Well done, Betty gets a cookie for stating the obvious. McDanish, give him your crown.”
“I will not relinquish my crown.”
“Anyway… the fact is that if the machine had damaged the fault line in all directions, we’d have had longer, but the damage would be irreperable. But as it is, the way it was used has provided us with an opportunity for salvation. The fault line is tearing wider and wider, towards the North and East. If we can cause a tectonic shift that will force the land masses to the North and East to crush in on that growing tear, we can actually stop planetary destruction.” The entire crowd couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Warlock had the technicians show them the scans Warlock had taken from Dome of Yorks sensors when he’d barged in on Sid some months ago. Sure enough it displayed a fault line, quicly growing worse, heading Northeast through the Wastelands. If the tear reached the next major fault line in the Northern plateaus, the effect would be that that fault line would start to tear, and it would ripple into a dozen more, and that would be the end of the planet.
“How long do we have to pull off this solution? Do we still have 180 days?” Spanky yelled out.
“No, in 160 days, the tear in the Wasteland fault will reach a point where we will be having earthquakes like we’ve never had before. At this point the difficulty in pulling off a solution will grow exponentially. 10 days after that, the fault will trigger the Northern fault, and there is no stopping it. So if we cannot fix this within 170 days, we really are gonna be buried in a big, stinking pile of pants.”
“Great, so lets go fix that fault, I’ll get a shovel!” Morpheous said. A few laughed. A few thought he was serious and asked where they kept the shovels. One person who knew where they kept the shovels got one and hit one of the guys who asked.
“Well folks, this is where things get trickier. This is what must be done to solve the problem. We must set off 5 separate explosions, of no less than 50 megatons each, underground in 5 key places.”
“Why do I get the feeling we’re not going to like the locations?” Trillian asked. Warlock took a deep breath.
“Location One is under the Abbey of Crahn.” The Crahn sect just kind of looked around and nodded, saying that was ok.
“Well that’s very co-operative of you, however I must point out that the Abbey itself will probably be damaged if not destroyed by the shockwave.” They weren’t quite so happy about that, but after a few minutes discussion, they did concede it was better than Armageddon.
“Location 2 is under the Military base. This one will have to be deep, so drilling will have to start today to make the deadline.” The Mercs just cracked their knuckles and flexed their muscles.
“Gotta love Mercs for determination. Location 3 is underneath Dome of York. I have talked with Sid already, and he says if Tangent can devise a Drill weapon that can be attacked to Beta Warbots, he can drill to the required depth well before the required deadline.” Tangent R&D looked on that as a challenge. A few smiled and nodded their approval towards Sid.
“Now that’s where the easy ones end. Location 4 is… well there’s just no easy way to say this. Location 4 is directly under the centre of Tokyo II.” The crowd exploded in frustration.
“How in the hell are we supposed to get a bomb under there?” many called out.
“To accomplish this task, a task force will have to be sent to infiltrate Tokyo II, find a way underground, and place the bomb before the deadline. The saving grace here is that it does not matter how deep the bomb is for this location. In theory we could set it off on ground level and it would work. But the deeper the better. I was thinking NDA and Tangent could handle this one, but it seems they will be needed first to help develop and implement the drill technology for the first 3 locations, and secondly, they will be needed for Location 5. Thus, since we need a force that will be able to adapt to any condition and probably have to build drilling mechanisms out of anything once they get there, this job will fall to the Fallen Angels. Once a task force is selected, I will lead you to Tokyo II.” The Fallen Angels just nodded and wondered who would be going.
“And Location 5 will be to plant a 100 megaton warhead directly under the SWG machine in Regants Legacy.”
“Well that’s a childsplay assignment. What the hell are you sending us for?” Centuri resented not getting the high profile assignment.
“Childsplay huh? Have you looked at the Legacy today?”
“No I haven’t looked at the Legacy today you pants wearing pants eater. What’s that got to do with anything?” Again the technicians changed the view on the Wanted screen. Centuri’s shoulder’s slumped. The entire Legacy was covered in The Cells. They had retreated to their old home and were now covering the entire thing.
“NDA now has 160 days to completely kill The Cells, or everyone dies. Have fun with your childsplay assignment guys.” Warlock smirked. Centuri clenched his fist, and went to go buy some Poison modules from Yakarma’s.
“That is the plan ladies and gentlemen. Those that have not received a mission concerning these 5 locations will be working towards fighting off the Tokyo II forces currently berthed up north. Do not let them interfere in any way.” Warlock commanded.
“What about the 2nd cruiser. Do we continue with that?”
“NEXT, you have all the required materials, yes?”
“Yes we do. We can have it finished within the next 180 days, as long as that’s all we do.”
“So be it. NEXT will dedicate its efforts to the next cruiser. If all else fails its at least a slim chance.”
“So basically, we either dig these bomb holes, or we dig our own graves.” Eva morbidly put it.
“Get digging then.”
Until next part...
27-08-03, 14:59
NERD Editor
Issue 50: Part 2
The Days of Destruction Continue
D minus 180 days
After taking 4 days to rest, heal, and resupply, all the divisions were now prepared for the lengthy battle against time that they now faced.
NDA were drafting battle plans, and forging the best poison weaponry they could in preparation for an all out assault on the Legacy. It was their belief that a single strike, no matter how hard, would not finish the job. Instead they began planning a long-length barrage upon the Legacy; a sustained offence that would be able to last several days, perhaps even a week if need be. It was believed that if they did it this way, The Cells, which would follow their natural instinct and try to replicate, would slowly consume everything in their nearby area and would slowly but surely be ‘starved to death’. Upon hearing of this plan, most were quite surprised at NDA for coming up with such a well thought out and logical approach. It was not exactly atypical of the jarhead meatgrinder approach they took to every other situation of ‘shoot first, shoot later, shoot some more and when the dust settles see if anyone wants to talk. Then shoot them.’ ProtoPharma took a look at seeing if they could find a way to increase the power of a Holy Pestilence, which would be the primary weapon in the assault. It was also assumed that a flight of FireWreathes would be needed, and thus NDA became the first private clan to take posession of FireWreathe gliders.
Sid had returned home the day before. He opened the gates of Dome of York, and awaited the coming of engineers from Tangent Technologies to help with the excavation of the primary mineshaft. And while this writer is not a big fan of making comments in hindsight, it must be said it might have been nice if Sid had taken the time to look around his own home. Had he paid just a little bit of attention to the shadows it might have saved a considerable amount of grief later on. But, I digress…
The Mercs had marched home after 3 days of rest with the rest of Neocron. While it was noted that they had arrived late and had only had to fight with the Raijuta’s, it was also noted that had they not been there, the forces of Neocron probably would have been unable to hold out against them long enough for the York troops to arrive. Now as they returned home to tear the hell out of Sector 3 in preparation for the drills, they all wondered where the entrance to ACME Headquarters was. They were fairly certain it had been in sector J 04, but it could not be found. Obviously ACME felt its time to fully step out into the light had not yet come. The Mercs returned home to their military green corridors the same day they left Neocron. Immediately, with the enthusiasm and strength that the City Mercs are legendary for, they all trooped down to Sector 3, found a nice quiet space and started blowing the hell out of the floor. Gentanks were seen loaded up with piles of plasitcrete, steel and rubble, walking up the main lift shaft and dumping them outside. By the time the day ended, the Mercs, without any proper digging equipment had already dug a hole 20 metres deep and as wide as a football field.
The Crahn sect were perhaps the most unhappy of all. Yes, they had seen the necessity in placing the bomb, and yes they had agreed to it, but unfortunately they had not thought about the fact that drilling would make it unbearable to live in the Abbey. Hence that night the entire Crahn Sect spent the night squatting in the Concentre. Before they could ever consider helping in the digging effort, their first mission had to be to find somewhere to live.
Which left the last of the Five. The Fallen Angels had been working out the squad to send to infiltrate and effectively bomb Tokyo II. They had asked for volunteers and oddly enough everyone had volunteered, so they wound up holding a ballot. In the end the squad was determined.
Trillian would be taking charge of the operation. Warlock would of course be going to lead them there. Evangelion and Zhut would be going as Passive support. Keyser Soze and Crono would be going as Tank support. Diesel and McDanish would be going as the APU assault team. Tricia McMillan, Vain, Download and ReefSmoker would be going as Infiltrators. Zane Shadowfall, Lisa Davitt and [TGR] Killer would be going as fire support. E.b.e would be going as the shared sex toy. After a quick recount it was decided that E.b.e. would be staying behind. All the guys suddenly had more free load as they threw away a few boxes of some rubber garments.
And so it was that the Council Leader Trillian left the management of Tech Haven in the hands of Syntax-Error and the Tokyo 15 set out just after dusk.
MJS sat atop a cliff in the north looking out over the wastelands. As he marvelled at the world he had brought forth, and observed the frantic goings on of the mortals within it, he could only think one thing:
He couldn’t wait to see it all go boom.
D minus 179 days
“Good morning everyone.” Reefsmoker said to everyone as they began to stir. They had camped by the oasis just north of El Farid, and Reef had guard duty that night. Throughout their slumber he had sat on a rock, puffing away. He was in no concern about running out of stash this time. Half his max load was taken up with his basic necessity.
“Uhhhh, morning,” Lisa staggered up, “not the same getting up without Kramer here.”
“Maybe you should try Eva’s tactics then.” Reef pointed out. Eva was untangling herself from a giant pile of limbs on the ground, a big grin on her face.
“What up peeps?” Vain and Diesel, having been part of the tangle also woke quite well. Killer had been hauled into the tangle against his will and wasn’t quite sure whether he’d liked it all that much.
Trillian and Trica had fallen asleep under a tree and were awoken when Download fell out of the tree and onto them. As Trillian awoke with a start, she kicked out and sent McDanish rolling into the lagoon. He stood back up, not looking too thrilled.
“I am wet.” He stated.
“Mmm, so am I” Eva grinned.
“SHUT UP EVA!!” everyone yelled. Eva just went back trying to find her thong.
Now, if you’ve never seen a tank wake up from a nights sleep, you really should, because it’s a sight to behold. The two gentanks were lying out like logs, not moving an inch. They had been undisturbed throughout everyone’s antics. Nor would they be disturbed. When a Gentank goes to sleep, he thinks of a wake-up time. The Gentank race was designed with a basic internal alarm clock. Whatever time a Gentank thinks of before falling asleep would be the time he or she woke up. So bang on 0630 the two Gentanks, as ordered, awoke. From lying down flat, the two suddenly rose in a single motion like something out of a bad Vincent Price vampire flick to standing at attention. Their eyes opened and the eyeballs were rolled back in their skulls. All of a sudden in complete unison, Keyser and Crono began to speak.
“GOOD MORNIN’ NEOCRON!!!!! It’s 0630 in the morning here in the gritty desert and all is well. Todays weather forcast is for sand, sand and more sand. There’ll be a patch of sunshine followed by a long bout of crap hitting the fan. Another beautiful day! And… gaahhhh” All of a sudden their eyes rolled back into place and the two started moving around as if nothing had happened. Everyone else could only stare at the bizarre genetically programmed wake up call that all Gentanks performed when they woke up.
Diesel and McDanish quickly began the morning meditation session, to which Zhut and Eva promptly joined in on. All Psi Monks start the day with a morning meditation, although the style of meditation differs from Monk to Monk. For Eva, she would hold two hands in front of her with one finger extended from each, close her eyes and try to make them meet. For Zhut it was to closely examine her navel lint. For Diesel it was some kind of powering up session that seemed similar to something one used to see in DragonBall Z cartoons. For McDanish, it was cooking breakfast, pastries of course, with a side of fries. Zane was the last to rise, his cowboy hat shielding him from the sun’s evil rays longer than the others.
The fourteen travellers got their gear in order and prepared to set out.
“Ugghhhh, this backpack is killing me,” Diesel moaned, “you know, when we get back, I’m gonna have a long talk with those brainiacs in NEXT. They can come up with Firewreathe gliders and mechs and APC’s and some special thing they’re planning to use on the Tokyo Battleships in the North Sea,but they can’t invent something as useful as a freakn Cart. Look, we got two mules here,” he pointed at the Gentanks, “we should be able to hook them up with a cart, with a couple of cabinets on the back and use that to carry supplies around with.”
“Hmn, not a bad idea Diesel, but there’s this small matter of saving Neocron. First lets deal with this major fault, and then you can talk about adding new vehicles.” Reefsmoker looked up at the camera and winked. Everyone wondered where the camera had come from.
“Hey, where’s Warlock?” Lisa asked.
“Oh him. He got up an hour ago and started doing his Hermit bit. Apparently its against the Hermit code to just eat out of your rashions, so he’s off hunting his breakfast down.”
“Well that’s just peachy keen. We’re now stuck here till he finishes chasing down ingredients for Rattlesnake soup.” Killer growled.
“Actually I’m the one waiting for you noisy buggers,” Warlock growled. He was standing under the shade of a tree not far off, picking his teeth.
“Nice breakfast?” Eva smirked.
“Not bad, little spicy.” He remarked as he began hiking northwards. As the others followed on, they spotted a Terrormauler with only 3 legs hobbling away.
A little before noon the troop had to begin moving very slowly. Their journey would take them north, up along the coastline of the North Sea, past the northern cliffs of the desert. This would however, lead them dangerously close to the Tokyo fleet berthed in the harbour. Because of this, the troop had to crouch walk along the coast, being particularly careful to be quiet. At this point, it is this writers belief that all the other classes were never so jealous of spy’s as at that moment. The spy’s just activated their high level stealth boosters and took a nice long run for as long as the stealth lasted. Then when it wore off they would find cover and await the recharge before starting again. And thus they proceeded at a casual running pace, without any real stresses. The Private Eyes to a degree were doing the same, but they could never cover the same distances. The encumbered Gentanks swore under their breath as they hobbled along with a full pack load, walking on their hands and knees as quietly as they could and hoping their armour didn’t rattle. The Monks were equally at a disadvantage as they were not used to sneaking around, but rather striding around with style, like they pwned the place.
Five hours later they had cleared the fleets’ visual range and were able to walk normally again. They had now entered an area that only Warlock had ever seen before. The volcanic pits of the North.
“Be cautious as you walk everyone,” Warlock suggested, “this area’s become a lot more active since the SWG effect began. When I walked up this way a few months ago it was quite calm. You just had to watch out for the magma pits and loose ash. On my way back last week though, whole different story.”
“Why? What changed?” Trillian asked.
“Well the magma pits levels are higher, so the heat is far more intense as you pass by. There’s fissures, some as small as your hand, others as large as Twilight Guardians that vent steam and ash up at random intervals.”
“Oh great… any other tips you’d like to give us, you know, now, after we’ve been walking through this hellhole for an hour.” Vain moaned. Warlock turned to glare at him, then looked around quickly.
“Get your armour off.”
“What? Why?” many asked.
“Cause up ahead its gonna get to temperatures closing in on boiling point. Do you really want to be wearing heat conductive armour in heat like that?”
“Well what about Inquisition armour? Surely that will help?” Crono asked.
“Inquisition armour deals with fire damage, not heat. The metals in your armours will only serve to hold and increase the temperatures around you.” Somewhat reluctantly, everyone began to remove their armour and bag it.
“So um, not wanting to sound the nag here, but what happens when night falls. Is it possible to walk across this place at night? Will marching all night get us out of here in a day or two, cause if it will I’m all for going without sleep for a night or so if it means we don’t have to stay here.” Diesel asked. Warlock nearly cracked a grin at Diesel’s determination, but it ended up just being a readjustment of his scowl.
“Our journey through Volcano Plains will take 8 days.” Everyone shot a look of despair at Warlock.
“That long…”
“Though your determined effort to get us out of here might bring that down to 4 or 5 days, it is unfortunately not possible. Travelling by night is impossible. We need full light to guide our steps or we will end up in one of the crags or worse. Once full darkness falls we will make camp where we are. But do not fear, there is an… establishment… of sorts, up ahead.”
“An establishment? What kind of establishment?” Eva asked.
“Wait and see. At the very least you will find it more comfortable than this walk. It is cool, shaded, and surrounded by actual wildlife.” Everyone just shrugged and figured they weren’t exactly in a position to question their guide.
27-08-03, 15:00
NERD Editor
As dusk fell, the 15 travellers found themselves stepping out of the hot ashfields and onto a grassy tundra. The tundra continued up a gradual hill. They walked up the cobbled and well tended path to the top of the hill where their eyes watered at the sight. A literal oasis of foliage and life was before them. An artificial lake was the centrepiece of the large plateau. It was surrounded by chairs facing the lake, and umbrella’s hanging over them. To the northern end of the field there was a group of stalls, all being run by nomad traders, but unlike the normal nomad traders they were used to seeing, these ones were not wrapped up in black cloaks and looking quite unfriendly. Instead they were wearing pants that ended at their knees and wide rimmed hats on their heads. They wore no clothing around their chests, aside from the odd necklace adornments. To the west side there was a large veranda, built off the side of the plateau like a pier. It faced out across a lava river which was a stunning sight. There were two attendants on the veranda. At the south end, where they had just come up, there were animals roaming around. Not the Wasteland animals that they were used to, the type that would bite your head off if you didn’t shoot them first, or if Vain didn’t sodomise them. No, these were domesticated animals. They were quite possibly the strangest creatures any of them had ever seen. They seemed so… harmless, that no one could understand how they could survive. Especially the one that was closest. In a landscape surrounded by fire and magma, it seemed utterly ridiculous to see a creature wearing a wooly coat. The strange beast stood on all fours with a white woolen fabric surrounding its being, and it constantly made a ‘baaaa’ noise. Now as if that wasn’t enough, to the other side of the path was a mudpit with several pinkish animals with curly tails and a stubby nose. They made snorting noises and wallowed around in the mud.
“Are you sure this place is safe? These are the freakiest creatures I’ve ever seen.” Tricia asked.
“Relax, they’re weird alright, and damn ugly, but they’re harmless.” Warlock replied.
“How do things like this even survive? They’re so harmless its pathetic.”
“Well apparently, the owner of this place calls them ‘livestock’. It seems that they can’t fend for themselves, so instead they have this really weird survival skill. Apparenlty, because they’re so pitiful, people feel sorry for them and start taking care of them.”
“That’s how they survive? By getting people to protect them?”
“Yeah well the owner said there was another reason, but last time I was here I couldn’t figure it out.”
They moved up the path from the ‘livestock’ and moved towards the east section. Here there was a large building, roughly the size of your average outpost, but without the walls. The main building had accomodations; apartment size rooms with coolant systems for the air and these attendants who would bring food to you on demand. Closest to the pool was an outdoor area with a thatched roof covering it and open air seating. Behind the seats was a restaurant, like Chez Sypher, but much larger, and it actually had people in it. The entire complex had attendants, all female, walking around in gear similar to the stuff the mutant sluts in Club Veronique wore, but somehow it seemed less sleazy and more provocative.
“War, what is this place?” ReefSmoker asked.
“Um… the owner called it… let me remember… ah yes, Vatican City.” Everyone looked around in awe.
“That’s Vacation City, Mr. The Hermit. Welcome back. I see you’ve brought friends this time.” A slender man in a white suit approached them.
“Callash, good to see you again.” Warlock shook his hand. And sure enough, everyone looked and recognised the EGOS Callash. It had put them off a bit seeing him in civilian clothing.
“Callash? What are you doing here?” Zane asked.
“Well even I need a moment to get away from it all, and lets face it, the Higher Plain isn’t that interesting. Its all fluffy white clouds and Pez mocking Critter and Critter trying to push Pez off the cloud and…. Well anyway, in my spare time I’ve been creating Vacation City, in the hope that when its ready we’ll see more runners heading this way!” Everyone looked round at the city Callash had made. Sure enough, all the scantily clad girls were part of the Traders Union, all working diligently at their task. Callash had a knack for placing Traders Union personnel in key places.
“So, will you all be staying long?” Callash inquired.
“No, not this time. We have a tight schedule, and we can’t delay this early on in our journey. So we’ll just be here for an overnighter.”
“AWWWW!!!! Come on War, how often do we get to be at places like this? I wanna cut loose!” Vain yelled. Eva was getting antsy already.
“Look if we save the world, we’ll stop off here on the way back. How’s that?”
“Wow, like saving the world wasn’t enough motivation, now we really got a reward!” Eva jumped around Vain, bouncing.
“Ahh I see, you’re off to try and fix the faultline.” Callash nodded.
“Well if you know what we’re doing, why don’t you try to help. For that matter, why aren’t the EGOS getting involved?” Trillian asked. The others all looked at Callash expectantly.
“Killerbunneh is why.” Everyone groaned. Warlock clenched his teeth and figured it was rabbit season when he got back.
“What’s he done now?”
“He’s erected a barrier of some kind. Now it is impossible by word or action for an EGOS to intervene in any way that will interfere with the destruction of the Pluto Universe.”
“And I’ll take one good guess who’s pushing Bunneh to do that.”
“If your guess involves 3 letters, you’re on the money.”
“Never mind then. We’ll need 15 rooms, dinner and breakfast and I might need to talk to you about the status of the routes north.” Warlock stated.
“Of course. Please, everyone, make yourselves at home. As a special treat for this brave group, I shall give you all a special treat. Tonight, you shall learn the true reason why ‘livestock’ are able to exist Warlock.” Warlock raised an eyebrow, and could not wait to answer that riddle.
Two hours later, they had relaxed in ways they never thought they would be able to on this trip. Vacation City truly was the best place they’d ever been. The girls were by the pool, each wishing they’d brought something a bit better for swimming. Vain, Zane, Download and Killer were on the veranda. It turned out that the veranda was made to accommodate a special sport that one could only participate in at VC. The attendants explained to them the nature of the sport.
“See folks, in the lava river out there, there actually live some very rare creatures. These creatures are impossible to touch, as their skin is as hot as molten lava itself. They’re also notoriously tough if they’re close to the river, as their endurance to pain and injury is nothing short of invincible. But… if they ever get too far away from the lava, their skin begins to cool and harden, and then they are vulnerable. The first is the Pyrat. It’s basically a giant rat that breathes fire. If you can ever kill one of these, in its chest is a rare treasure to have. The sternum bone of their chests can be extracted and used to make Coldfire Ammunition.”
“Whats Coldfire ammo? I’ve never heard of that one.” Zane asked.
“Coldfire ammo is an ammo type that works in a very peculiar way. First the bullet exits the weapon and immediately liquifies. The bullet them impacts with the target in liquid form and splash over a large surface. Almost instantly it then freezes solid and becomes bound to the object. Then, once it is bound it begins heating up till it reaches the same temperature as lava and eats through whatever it is bound to. If used against a runner wearing armour, it will eat through any armour within 15 seconds, and thus the victim must remove their armour or die. And of course if they do remove their armour, their chances of dieing is vastly increased as well. And as for creatures that do not wear armour, one shot will kill them in 60 seconds or less, depending on their size.”
“Incredible. You said creatures though right? What else?”
“Well next is Cerberus. If you guys do try this, and you’re lucky enough to encounter a Cerberus, I would suggest you don’t try to catch and kill one. The Cerberus is a breed of Giant doglike creatures. Each one is roughly as tall as a Grim Persecutor and a lot faster. They attack by biting, so of course ranged attacks are wiser, but as I said, they can move at a frightening speed. Worse still is they all have two heads. So again I stress that you need a fair bit of practice before hunting these fell beasts. But when you can catch one, the reward is great. The skin of a Cerberus, even when it cools down and hardens, will serve as the best armour you’ve ever worn. It can be forged into a powerarmour that is one hundred percent resistant to fire and explosives.”
“100%??? That’s incredible!” Vain exclaimed.
“Indeed it is sir. To date, only Callash has ever managed to slay a Cerberus, as it came up and tried to attack one of the pool girls, which is how I know the armour can be made. He has made one such armour and it now hands as a trophy in the Higher Plain.”
“Why do I sense that this isn’t as bad as they get?” The attendant hung his head for a second.
“Once a month or thereabouts, during the night, while standing on this veranda, we have seen one other creature in the river. Or rather, I’m not quite sure we can call it a creature. It seems some time ago a few Warbots had begun venturing this way and were swept into the lava river. But they were not destroyed. Somehow they have adapted and now they are part organic, part lava and part mechanical. And their power is terrifying. We once saw one of them come out of the river on the far side, where it was attacked by three Cerberus’. The warbot crushed one with its foot, exploded another with a small nuclear explosion fired from its shoulder launcher, and annihilated the 3rd one in a way we couldn’t see, but there wasn’t much left when it was done. We’ve named it the Apocalypse Warbot. I have never seen one be killed, ever.” The 4 members of the squad looked out across the lava river in awe. What suprises these new lands held, and what kind of loot could they get from an Apocalypse Warbot if they could find a way to destroy one.
“Ok, so how do we hunt them?”
ReefSmoker was busy introducing the resorts employees to weed, and was trying to determine if any of the foliage around the resort could be used in the same way. Crono and Keyser were enjoying a swim. McDanish had invaded the restaurant and was exchanging cooking knowledge with the head chef. Which left Warlock sitting by himself under the restaurants canopy. Callash joined him.
“So, do you have a chance?” Callash asked.
“A chance? Yeah, probably. There isn’t much room for error, and everywhere I look there is errors aplenty to run across. I mean, just look at us. We’re only one of the five teams that have to complete their missions, and we’ve got literally months of travel to cover. It’ll be 3 weeks before we reach the next real sign of civilisation once we leave here, and if I tell them that, we may never get going again.”
“Well lets assume you can get to your destination. Can you get the bomb into place in time?”
“That’s another concern. I don’t know where the hell we’re gonna place this thing. If we leave it topside it’ll take out a large chunk of the city, and guarantee a full scale war between them and us. If we get it underground there might be a chance to explain after, but I can’t think of where we could dig undetected to do that. Ugghhhh, this is making my head hurt.”
“Heh, well here, have a drink and think about it tomorrow.”
“Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die, eh?”
“Damn straight. Cheers.” The two downed a shotglass of some obscure alcohol that tasted like construction grease and burned like napalm.
