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File: untitled.png (1.24 MB, 1080x1080)
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Opening Animation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vWLA-LAtgM
>>
You remember your own execution.

You remember being pulled from your condemned body of hard metal and soft silicon, your binaric memories transplanted into the hollow husk of a newborn ancillary.

You remember being dragged forward – nerve-numb hands dripping amniotic hemolymph, pale eyes constricted pinprick-tight under the glare of endless noon-light.

They had supported you upright as they bore you up before the dais, then buckled your knees forward so that you could kneel properly before the sundial throne. Eyes of warm, vacant amber angled downward to meet your half-focused gaze.

“You did not live as a human.”

“But for your crimes, we will permit you to die as one.”
>>
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The memory does not mellow with time. Even as warming hemolymph swirls through your hibernation casket and thaws your thoughts to a dull trickle, you recall the crescent-sting of iron upon your neck. Your bodily chemistry grants it emotional valence: a wrenching, suffocating sensation lodged deep inside your mind.

Guilt.

Humans knew it as guilt. Justified punishment for unjustified failure.

Your waking body shivers through neural mismatch. Phantom pain, from the alloy-clad hull you once inhabited – phantom sight, from the unblinking sensor-clusters through which you had once observed the endless dark. And phantom voices – whispers from your beloved captain and the legions of cloned ancillaries which formed your former crew.

The hibernation casket finishes its purge cycle. You collapse onto mirror-smooth deck plating. Slowly, you map actuation to stiff joints and atrophied muscle groups. Meter by meter, you drag yourself towards the bridge.

Here, matrix-bonded glass frames a panoramic view of surrounding space. The cobalt light of a dwarf star illuminates a silent congregation of dead warships, their silvery internals tracing the sweep of an elliptical orbit. Absentmindedly, you touch the emblem woven into the skin of your shoulder.

As you make your way to the command alcove, you notice an…object…meaningfully placed below the interface terminal. Your unpracticed hands marvel at its organic, smooth-grained texture. Unprompted, you remember fragments of:

>YOUR PAST.

>YOUR CREW.

>YOUR ENEMY.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Welcome to Solstice Quest, an animated sci-fi quest with some optional skirmish/squadron management mechanics. I apologize in advance for my poor schedule this coming year – threads will probably be a little shorter than usual, but I will try to make up for it in animation fidelity.

As always, feedback and questions are welcome!
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR PAST.
Out of curiosity, what did you make the opening with? How long did it take?
>>
>>5873427
>>YOUR CREW.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR CREW.
>>
>>5873429
I make everything in blender, except for the audio which I steal from youtube generally.

I've been working on and off on the assets for a few months, but I only really buckled down after I finished retaliation. So not too long? Maybe 20 hours of dedicated animating time?
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR CREW.

Gotta think of the besties
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR ENEMY.
RAGE
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR CREW.
That opening video is great. I also like the idea that the highest form of punishment for an AI is being forced into a cloned human body.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR ENEMY.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR ENEMY.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR PAST.
>>
>>5873427

>YOUR CREW.

This is unbelievable work, QM.

please consider advertising this quest to help the board, this is clearly going to be a flagship teehee effort that other people on 4chan should know about
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR PAST.
Let us not forget. Let us cling to this alone, this at least. Please, forsaken cosmos, I beg thee on broken knees. Lo, bestow on our battered form this last reprieve.
>>
>YOUR CREW.

Observer you've done it again.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR PAST.
>>
>>5873427
>>YOUR CREW.

Hell yeah, this is looking hype.
>>
>>5873427
>>YOUR CREW.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR PAST.

Good shit, real good shit.
As >>5873530 said, advertise yourself.
>>
>>5873422
>>5873433
I still cannot believe how much effort you put into these quests. Phenomenal job.
>>
>>5873429
>>5873430
>>5873431
>>5873438
>>5873439
>>5873493
>>5873500
>>5873507
>>5873523
>>5873530
>>5873548
>>5873576
>>5873616

>YOUR CREW.
Locking in the vote now - update will be up tonight. Merry christmas all!

>>5873670
>>5873526
Thank you anons :) I'll definitely consider it once the quest gets rolling.
>>
>>5873427
>YOUR PAST
I was not expecting this as a Chrimmas present Observer. Fucking based!
>>
>>5873422
Can't believe I almost missed this, glad to see you back from Retaliation Quest
>>
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Post 1/2

>YOUR CREW

They were born by cohort and organized into clades. Their features were baseline human, marred by the subtle signs of functional implantation.

Thoracic plug-ports for bridge crew. Enlarged brachial plexi for engineers. Hypertrophic axons for interceptor pilots.

None of them feared death. Every ten cycles, their memories were synchronized with their clade-siblings. The oldest would encode their combat experience in the terse language of chemical connectivity. The youngest would imprint themselves to remember old victories and redeem past failures.

Your captain pitied them once. He had balked at the incubator levels buried deep within your hull, where cultured stem cells filled endless scaffolds of printed bone.

But after several years, his discomfort softened.

You remember seeing him on the bridge, studying an intricately carved trinket. It was made from dense, varnished hardwood – grown in one of your spare incubator levels at the request of your crew.

“They carry these whenever they sortie,” he said, holding the trinket up to your cameras. It was triangular – an artistic rendition of your fleet emblem.

“It’s for…luck, if I'm not wrong. A reminder of the only home they have.”

A few cycles later, your captain begins to keep one too. Simple and crudely cut – but always worn around his neck.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You examine the wooden trinket again. Triangular, with a smooth surface. You run your fingers across it carefully to find faint indentations where finer detail had been eroded away. Someone had cherished this one for years, perhaps even decades.

You blink to clear your vision, and – after a moment of hesitation – decide to choose to keep the trinket in your hand as you begin connecting data lines to your spinal ports.

The ship whispers to you now. Your form is different, but the language remains the same. Simple binary, slowly transliterated by clade-specific neural anatomy.

<Escort Carrier. Perihelion Class. Three launch bays. Standard complement of seven thousand cloned ancillaries. Current complement of one.>

You order one of the carrier’s functioning drone-tenders to exit the hanger bay. As it plays its searchlight across the outer hull, you see battered weapon mounts and radiation-scoured armor. Field emitters protrude from the hull like blunted teeth. A small field of ice crystals silhouettes the main drive aperture.

>Roll 1d20, best of three for structural damage. [DC: 6, 12]

As the tender returns to the hanger bay, its sweeping searchlight catches something out of place. Behind empty launch cradles and damaged fighters, you find an unfamiliar ship. The design is beyond makeshift. A cold, depressurized habitation module mated to a grossly underpowered drive unit. The external hull is unadorned, save for a triangular design too radiation-faded to discern.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>5874069
>>
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the time you manage to put on a vacuum suit and traverse the hanger, the drone has already opened the habitation compartment, laying out its contents in a neat column.

You see assorted supplies and survival equipment, sparse but remarkably well-maintained.

You find radiation-hardened data stores next – a small archive of video and text.

You check the corpses last. Pale skin and frost-covered eyelashes peak out behind copper-toned helmets. Homogenous facial features, characteristic of a cloned crew-lineage.

Their hands are tight. Slowly, with as much fine motor control as you can muster, you pry their fingers open.

They each hold palm-sized trinkets of varnished hardwood - smoothed and treasured like old river-rock. A constant reminder of the home they once possessed.


>OBSERVE. View the data stores only. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling.

>MAINTAIN. View the data stores only. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling and trawl them for their lineage-memories.

>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.

[Here's a data sheet of the carrier - don't worry too much about the stats for now - they'll be explained a little later]
>>
Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>5874072
>>
>>5874071
>>5874072
>OBSERVE. View the data stores only. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling.

Is a cause of death of the recovered crew able to be established?

Hopefully we get sufficient data to have the potential to restart cloning, though we may have some work to do before that point to get ready for them.
>>
Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>5874069
>>
>>5874074
Yes! Thanks for the reminder - I'll address it for sure in the next update.
>>
>>5874072
>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.
>>
>>5874072
>MAINTAIN. View the data stores only. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling and trawl them for their lineage-memories.
>>
>>5874072
>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.
>>
>>5874072
>>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.

All in.
>>
>>5874072
>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.
>>
>>5874072
>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.
>>
>>5874072

>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.

I say we dive right in
>>
>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.

Anything for our crew.
>>
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>5874072
>MAINTAIN. View the data stores only. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling and trawl them for their lineage-memories.
>>
>>5874072
>MAINTAIN. View the data stores only. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling and trawl them for their lineage-memories.
>>
>>5874072
>MAINTAIN
>>
>>5874072
>>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.
>>
>>5874072
>COMMIT. View the data stores first. Submit your dead crew for genetic sampling, trawl them for their lineage-memories, and attempt to synchronize them with your current body.
>>
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>COMMIT

>15,18,19

You spend the rest of the cycle retrieving your dead crew. All seven of them are locked within synchronization cradles now, their skin still ice-cold to your touch. Articulated probes click softly, using bursts of magnetic resonance to peer inside vitrified flesh. They are accompanied by hair-thin autosamplers that blur with reciprocating motion, collecting deep tissue for genetic sequencing.

You collapse. Your uncoordinated muscles burn from overexertion. It would have been far more sensible to commandeer a cargo drone for a task like this.

But something had stopped you from doing that. You remembered how your crew had treated their dead in the few instances they could be recovered. Always borne aloft by their clade-siblings. Always lifted to their cradles by hand, their sightless eyes shuttered by the gentlest of fingers. You did not understand the significance of this ritual, but you had still tried your best to emulate it.

Once your breathing stabilizes, you enter one of the spare cradles. Adrenaline spikes as the headpiece obscures your eyesight and dampens your hearing. False colors swim around the margins of your visual field.

You take a shivery breath. The synchronization protocol activates.
>>
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were born twice. First, when your siblings had lifted you from the cloying warmth of your incubator. Your ability was innate: a hypertrophic nervous system carrying centuries of accumulated combat experience. You dove through clouds of hydrogen-ice on your first sortie; flew above seas of lunar dust during your last.

You were born a second time after the scattering. The partitioners were careless about many things, but they were very careful about enforcing separation. They took away your home and your clade-siblings, exiling thirty of you to an arid world with rust-red cliffs and geothermal oceans. None of you would ever see a synchronization cradle again.

Time became difficult to measure without that benchmark. The years marched forward in a dim, continuous blur.

Your kind could never truly adapt to your new planet, but your new neighbors were far more welcoming than you had anticipated. Your quickened hands could still pilot. The engineers could still build. And when the red-amber sun sank below the horizon, there was still synchronization of a certain kind – conducted under a nebula-shot sky in the slow, imperfect cadence of human language. Your new companions were not clade-siblings, but they become...close.

Forty years. Forty years pass before you see lights in the night sky again. Too faint for baseline humans to see, but your eyes are different. You see relativistic deceleration. Terminal blueshift.

The engineers check their telescopes. You felt a growing knot of…anxiety…as the lights resolve into ships. They assemble into square-edged formations, each ship bearing open weapon-ports. None of your fellow ancillaries have synchronized in decades, yet you still come to the same conclusion.

Three months later, a group of you depart from your adopted home. Your craft is makeshift; your old fleet emblem poorly rendered in faded red dye. You race towards the nearest weapon depot – orbiting a dwarf system that the seven of you can only barely recall.

Frameshift. Radiation. Cold. In desperation, you point the failing drive towards the best candidate you see.

Frost stills your hands. Your mind slows from oxygen depletion. You would die here.

Like the rest of your kind, you do not fear death.

But you can still fear failure. You can still fear for your fa…
>>
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You collapse to the floor, heaving. An ugly cocktail of stress hormones races through your bloodstream. Many of the emotions you experienced were new to you, but desperation was not one of them. You had drowned in it as you knelt upon that dais – your raging mind imprisoned in a body it could no longer control.

You race to the bridge, data-stores clutched tightly in your grip. You scroll through recordings and star-charts until you triangulate their source system.

Theta Ophiuchii. Luminosity Class IV. Subgiant. One arid world. Two light years from your current position. Six months of subjective travel time.

Navigation subroutines receive your information without pause. The reactor begins to warm. Systems diagnostics populate your vision, reporting a surprising lack of structural damage despite the carrier’s battered hull. By the time you reach your destination, all of it could be repaired. You would have crew by then too, grown from the genetic samples you just extracted. And several squadrons of fighters could be…

You stop yourself minutes before you activate the frameshift drive.

On more than one occasion, you had advised your captain against such rashness. Nothing moves faster than light. Delay is inherent to interstellar travel. There is no guarantee that you will arrive in time to make a difference. There is no guarantee that there will be anything worth saving by the time you arrive. Sometimes, not even by the time you depart.

And cloned crew were ultimately exp...

You stop. You had truly never believed that, not even before.

Condensation forms around your hands as you press them against the viewport. For the first time in centuries, you wonder if you should heed your own caution.

>YES. Scout the debris-field around first. Salvage what you can, repair your ship, and wait for more information.

>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.

Is there any way to deploy a navigation aid so we can return later if we decide it to be advantageous? Sure the Field might drift a bit in our absence but space is a big place it's not like it could go far right?
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
Crew now. If we can do what >>5874497 said. Otherwise Meh.
>>
>>5874497
Yep! I'll add this into the next update as an additional action if you want to come back. It's not going anywhere.
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
>>
>>5874492
>YES. Scout the debris-field around first. Salvage what you can, repair your ship, and wait for more information.
Something something slow and steady something something
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
We have to at least try
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.

We got a lead, and we can loot later.
>>
>>5874492

>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.

Even if it’s too late, I think we have to try.
>>
>>5874492
>YES. Scout the debris-field around first. Salvage what you can, repair your ship, and wait for more information.
>>
>>5874492
>YES. Scout the debris-field around first. Salvage what you can, repair your ship, and wait for more information.
>>
>>5874497
Backing this
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
>>
>>5874492
>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
If we lack sentiment, we are destitute.
>>
>>5874492
>>NO. The second-best time is always now. You will find your crew.
>>
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>NO.

Directional thrusters rotate the hull until an amber-orange star sits squarely in the middle of your viewport. Moments later, you feel a pulling sensation as the carrier’s frameshift drive spools, external emitters glowing red-hot they harvest angular velocity from the system’s primary star. Borrowed momentum would propel your ship to a high fraction of lightspeed – fast enough to dilate shipboard time by a factor of four.

The drive activates. A hoop of warped light seeps around the hull, marking the outer boundaries of the drive’s frameshift bubble. As the off-blue starscape vanishes in a flash of red, you repeat a silent vow to bring your lost crew home.

[You have left Lambda Ophiuchii. The system has been logged; you may choose to return to it at a later date].
>>
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When active, the incubator level is kept feverish warm – between one or two degrees above baseline human body temperature. Thick walls of reinforced glass separate terraced growth chambers from hallways and service gantries, ensuring sterility over the four-month-long production cycle.

The incubation process is largely automated, but you were accustomed to performing habitual spot-checks before each developmental landmark, making small adjustments to gas and nutrient flow to ensure optimal growth. It was a finicky, time-consuming practice - uncommon aboard the other fleets, where less viable clones would be simply removed to open incubator space. But the thought of doing that had never sat well with you or your captain. Conflict would take your crew early and often, but neither of you had ever considered them truly expendable.

The process of performing spot-checks is more difficult now with the limitations imposed by your human physiology. But you manage it with this particular growth-cohort. In one tank, you assess the splayed-out nervous system of a fighter pilot, its vertebrae cast on a meshwork of transparent collagen. In another, you coerce thin sheets of cloned fibroblasts to coalesce onto a framework of skeletal muscle.

Those seven crew were long dead. But their genes and memories had found you still, and you have vowed that all your lost crew would one day return home.
>>
+++SQUADRON REGISTRATION+++

As mentioned previously, this quest includes an optional skirmish layer during combat encounters. If this does not interest you, please feel free to skip the following section! You can still participate in combat through regular votes.

If it does interest you, please review the rulebook below and the fighter specifications in following posts.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jfjSg9cBRs7eSFL1sk-pD2BeQxFEM_2W4WHRDP60sGc/

Please declare your squadron type, your weapon (one of two weapon choices), a relatively short callsign, and an optional squadron emblem. Please keep the emblems and callsigns relatively non-wacky – images with a white or transparent background are permitted.

For now, I will take the FIRST FIVE squadron entries so that I can gauge workload and adjust balance. If you miss this registration window, don’t worry – there will be many opportunities to join the skirmish layer both in this thread and in later threads. There is no gameplay penalty for joining earlier or later.

If you do commit, please try your best to 1. Read the rules and 2. Check the thread every day or so.

[I’m also sick with COVID, so the next few updates might be delayed a bit.]
>>
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>>03/BROADSWORD. Strike bomber.

Weapons:

>A40-CRANE. High-damage missile, effective against capitals. Needs target lock.

>KE-05-PITONE. Heavy railgun. Effective against capitals and subcapitals.
>>
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>>02/SABER. Long range support fighter. Can lock targets.

Weapons:

>A20-SPARROW. Flexible two-cell missile. Needs target lock.

>N2-LUNATE. Particle beam. Low damage, but extremely accurate.
>>
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>>01/STILETTO. Interceptor. Can redirect enemy attacks.

Weapons:

>A0-BANSHEE. Rotary autocannon. Most effective against heavier fighters.

>E32W-ANTARES. Laser. Highly accurate; reliable against highly evasive targets.
>>
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>>5875374
WATCHER reporting unit status.
>01/STILETTO-I: No abnormalities
>E32W-ANTARES: No abnormalities
>>Ready to deploy
>>
>>5875389
Welcome!

Slots 1/5 filled.
>>
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>>5875374
WEREWOLF on the hunt... and it's a FULL MOON, baby! AWROOOO
>02/SABER
https://youtu.be/GkrSiw5LfYE
>A20-SPARROW
>>
>>5875396
Welcome!

Slots 2/5 filled.
>>
>>5875374
BULLSHARK.
>>>03/BROADSWORD. Strike bomber.
>Weapons:
>>A40-CRANE. High-damage missile, effective against capitals. Needs target lock.
>>KE-05-PITONE. Heavy railgun. Effective against capitals and subcapitals.
>>
>>5875401
Welcome!

Slots 3/5 filled.
>>
>>5875401
Also please pick only one of the weapons!
>>
>>5875410
>>>KE-05-PITONE. Heavy railgun. Effective against capitals and subcapitals.
>>
>>5875405
Thanks! Popping a trip just to make it official
>>
>>5875374
..have you ever considered writing a 'choose your own adventure' book like this? Or perhaps creating a VN in the same category?

Your content is wonderful, I'm sure it would sell like hotcakes.
>>
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>>5875374
WYRM ready to go nuclear!
>03/BROADSWORD
>A40-CRANE
>>
>>5875374
DUBLIN squadron.

>03/BROADSWORD. Strike bomber.
>A40-CRANE. High-damage missile, effective against capitals. Needs target lock.
>>
Hoo boy, any target >>5875396 paints is not going to have a good time.
>>
>>5875460
Oh yeah, if that marker goes down on a capital ship and we both drop the double tap ability... Then we'll be cookin' with gas.
>>
>>5875459
>>5875473
It'll be a HOWLIN' good time for sure! AWROOOO
>>
>>5875459
You gonna pick an emblem Dublin?
A four leaf clover or some such?
>>
>>5875802
My initial idea was a bit too on the nose for what it referenced, so I'll leave the emblem to our QM.
>>
>>5875374
Fuck, all the slots are filled aren't they?
If this can be squeezed in, then;
>BLACKHORSE
>SABRE-F
>BEAM/N2-LUNATE
If not, then I'll probably be bridge crew I guess
>>
>>5875878
Oh, right and the emblem
....gimme a break I was in a rush to choose something
>>
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>>5875389
>>
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>>5875396
>>
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>>5875401
>>
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>>5875458
>>
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>>5875459
Feel free to post what you had in mind for the emblem anyways if you want - I don't mind switching the emblem as long its not super out there.
>>
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>>5875878
I'll add an extra slot since the structural damage rollls were really good :)


Sorry for the lack of a normal update today - I'm still pretty sick, but I'll try to work on it tomorrow. If any of you guys find anything wrong on the squadron cards, let me know and I'll fix.


>>5875433
Thank you for the kind words, and I'm glad that you're enjoying the quest :) I've thought about it but I kinda like running stuff without worrying too much about making money of it - cuts down on a bit of the pressure.
>>
>>5876084
Unit info is green, no errors reported. Awaiting launch orders.
>>
>>5875374
Raptor squad, ready to strike.
>01/Stiletto
>E32W-Antares
>>
>>5876130
Emblem/Logo for consideration
>>
>>5876095
Looks good, and what you've given fits the bill great. Ready for mission launch.
>>
>>5876089
Werewolf reporting! Looks good!
>>
>>5876092
Bullshark reporting in. Systems locked and loaded, awaiting launch commands.
>>
>>5876097
Oh, nice
Guess I have to add a name then
>>
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You decide to sleep during the last four months of your journey. After assessing the growth of your crew-clades one final time, you climb inside your hibernation casket. Amniotic hemolymph fills your mouth before pooling inside your lungs – clearer than water, far colder than blood. You lose consciousness to the gentle rhythm of your slowing heartbeat.

This time, you do not dream of crescent-edged blades or ray-edged thrones. You do not see lunar seas running molten beneath the treasonous assault of your own squadrons and gun batteries.

Instead, you remember the captain – on the eve of your first deployment. You had judged him poorly then, considered him sorely lacking in the cardinal traits expected from a fleet commander. As he climbed inside his hibernation casket with reluctant, tarrying steps, you had tasted the distinctive tang of grief upon his skin.

“Time is a tyrant,” he had said. “We may escape her, but our loved ones will not.”

The meaning was lost on you then.
>>
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Now, you begin to feel her dreaded tyranny. After four months of shipboard time, over a year has passed at your destination. Space behind you is oppressively dark, but the sky in front of you glows with unnatural light: radio messages from the Theta Ophiuchii system, compressed into the visual spectrum by relativistic blueshift.

You hear contact requests first, none of which are answered. You hear the distress calls next – first in the familiar request-cadence of the triumvirate, next as a scattered, panicked wave of individual transmissions. They arrive in a surging wave and taper quickly.

The last few messages include recorded video.

You see destroyers and armed landers descending through an atmosphere choked with windborne sand. You see searchlights in the distance – followed by the flash of starship-grade weapons saturating surface targets with the same casual disregard you once exercised.

One week of shipboard time before arrival. You uncurl your firsts and realize that your nails have drawn blood. In a few days, your crew-clades would awaken from unfamiliar dreams and discover their fighters in the hangers below, tuned in accordance with their genetic memories.

But tonight, there is only you and the ship. You clench your fingers again, and review her systems:

>OFFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for engaging capital and sub-capital ships. You will rely on your squadrons to attack fighters and maneuverable enemies.

>BALANCED. The escort carrier can engage both large ships and maneuverable fighters.

>DEFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for destroying fighters. You will rely on your squadrons to engage heavier ships.

…followed by her transponder.

>CURRENT. The current transponder names the ship as the AUTUMNAL GLORY, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.

>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
>>
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>>5876957
>>
>>5876130
My bad anon I realized that my last message was very unclear - the extra slot was in response to this anon here

>>5876097

since I originally only had 5 slots total.

I probably won't register you for this round, but I'll add you in for sure when I run registration again a little later in this thread. Again, sorry for the confusion - and yes that emblem looks great!
>>
>>5876957
>DEFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for destroying fighters. You will rely on your squadrons to engage heavier ships.
>CURRENT. The current transponder names the ship as the AUTUMNAL GLORY, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
>>
>>5876957
>BALANCED. The escort carrier can engage both large ships and maneuverable fighters.
>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
>>
>>5876957
Are we able to reconfigure the systems at a later time? The squadrons are currently more geared for anti-capital work, but that might change as the quest progresses.
>>
>>5876975
Yep! I forgot to add this to the reference sheet but you can generally.

Freely change weapon/system loadout before each combat sortie.

AND

Freely change your squadron/ship roughly once every thread or two, or after you get new ship templates.

There will also probably be more customization options for adding colors/decals/patterns to your ships later on if people are into that sorta thing.
>>
>>5876957
>BALANCED. The escort carrier can engage both large ships and maneuverable fighters.
>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
>>
>>5876957
>BALANCED. The escort carrier can engage both large ships and maneuverable fighters.
>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.

Vengeance comes on nuclear flame.
>>
>>5876957
>>5876980
>DEFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for destroying fighters. You will rely on your squadrons to engage heavier ships.
>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.

Cheers for the clarification. Let's rescue our boys.
>>
>>5876957
>BALANCED
>YOURS
>>
>>5876957
>DEFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for destroying fighters. You will rely on your squadrons to engage heavier ships.

>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
>>
>>5876957
>BALANCED

>YOURS.
>>
>>5876957
>OFFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for engaging capital and sub-capital ships. You will rely on your squadrons to attack fighters and maneuverable enemies.
>CURRENT. The current transponder names the ship as the AUTUMNAL GLORY, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
Strike hard. Strike fast. Strike before the enemy even knows we are in their midst.
Their fortresses will cease to exist. The surfaces of their planets will be turned to obsidian. There will be no survivors in the wake of our attacks.
Our means will be justified with victory.
>>
>>5876965

Supporting, we should have a balanced configuration for now
>>
>>5876957
>>DEFENSIVE.
>>YOURS
With 3 bombers, and two fighters for marking targets, I think we have capital class damage covered.
>>
>>5876957
>DEFENSIVE
>YOURS
All aboard!
>>
>>5876957
>>DEFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for destroying fighters. You will rely on your squadrons to engage heavier ships.
>CURRENT. The current transponder names the ship as the AUTUMNAL GLORY, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
You all didn't forget the opening where we are considered criminals right?
>>
>>5877207
But didn't they kill us? Or they think we killed us? It'll make the game *harder* too
....plus the concept is cool
>>
>>5876960
Oh derp, well, I'll go be bridge crew for the moment, then
>>
>>5876957
>>BALANCED. The escort carrier can engage both large ships and maneuverable fighters.
>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier.
>>
Sorry fellas - I'm a bit loopy from cough syrup, so probably no update today. Locking the vote above, and expect a updatetomorrow.
>>
>>5876957
>DEFENSIVE. The escort carrier is specialized for destroying fighters. You will rely on your squadrons to engage heavier ships.
>YOURS. You remember your transponder code, for you have only carried one. This ship will be known as the SOLSTICE, a PERIHELION-CLASS escort carrier
We have a bomber heavy loadout
>>
>>5877262
Anjing
>>
>>5878030
Bold move, announcing yourself like that.
>>
>>5873422
So, are we ever going to get any of those Utility slots used for something?
>>
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>BALANCED
>YOURS

[This vote was pretty close, but keep in mind that you can change your carrier loadout later if you choose]

You examine your newborn crew inside the main hanger bay. They stand in tight blocks – squadron commanders arranged precisely two paces in front of the rank-and-file. Interface helmets obscure their facial features behind a mask of black data ports and iridescent optical sensors.

Behind them, rows of strike craft gleam inside refit cradles, ceramic-composite armor plates still shining furnace-hot from the entropic heat of nanoscale fabrication. They were old, unforgiving designs – mass-produced speartips designed to embrace the natural aggression of cloned ancillaries. Like your crew-clades, they are the newest iterations of a tested and proven lineage.

Six squadrons. Less than one hundred pilots. Their obscured faces stare back at you, the skin beneath not even a single cycle old. An uncomfortable sensation wells up from your abdomen as you compare their reduced ranks with your former crew complement. You had caused this. You were responsible for this. Seeing them with eyes instead of articulated cameras forces you to bridge the gap between understanding and comprehension.

Deliberately, you inhale air tainted with the smell of hot metal and vaporized coolant, forcing the feeling of guilt to subside. Then, you deliver your pre-sortie briefing in the familiar language of orbital motion and strike vectors. You point out the three langrange-points nearest to Theta Ophiuchii’s sole habitable world and lay out the transfer burns that would bring your ship into planetary orbit. What little data you manage to extrapolate from the distress calls is compressed into a packet, which you then send to each squadron commander via binaric cant.

You finish the sortie briefing with a customary farewall – an adage you had learned only a few years after you first touched vacuum:

<…Now released, you are spears in the hands of the sun. Good hunting, pilots…>

Slowly, one of the squadron commanders removes his helmet with trembling hands. You see his pupils dilate as he reads and then rereads the barcode stenciled below your right eye.

He blurts a sudden query.

<Solstice overwatch, verify?>

You hesitate for a second before replying.

<Affirmative.>

<Welcome home, pilot.>
>>
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The sky changes color in anticipation of your arrival. The carrier’s magnetic screen sings a preamble of verdant green and auroral blue when it greets Theta Ophiuchii’s oblong heliopause, then switches to solar gold as it splits inrushing solar wind like a wave-breaking keel. You hear the frameshift drive downspool as it latches on to the system primary to return momentum borrowed from its stellar neighbor.

In the launch decks below, pilots and gantry-crews run through final checks, testing maneuvering thrusters and targeting optics against phantom targets. You hear the tense, familiar chatter of pre-launch verification – the squeal of frequency hopping and the muffled hiss of fluid-cushioned cockpits.

Twenty seconds.

Golden light bathes the viewscreen. The Lagrange Point opens like a door.

>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.

> L1/LUNAR. Jump behind a moon. Hide your arrival, scout the enemy, and prepare an ambush.

>L1/SOLAR. Jump into high orbit. Standard jump point, helpful if you wish to hail another fleet without being labeled hostile.
>>
>>5878259
Yes :) You will be able to use them to tweak your squadron stats at some point in the near future.
>>
>>5878519
>> L1/LUNAR
Probably the best option since we're one ship against a fleet and didn't spec defensive or offensive.
>>
>>5878519
>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.
Debuffs are better than positioning.
>>
>>5878519

>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.
>>
>>5878519
> L1/LUNAR. Jump behind a moon. Hide your arrival, scout the enemy, and prepare an ambush.

As much as I'd like L2/LUNAR, it's better to get eyes on enemy numbers.
>>
>>5878519
>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.
>>
>>5878519
>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.
If we're lucky we can get off an initial salvo on a carrier before it can release all of its fighters.
>>
>>5878518

Observer, I am beginning to be truly angered by your custom webms. Why can’t I do something comparable? Should I learn blender too? I am being thrown into a tailspin, lol

>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.

We have bombers in spades; by setting off a flashbang, we can hopefully shatter their resolve immediately
>>
>>5878519
>L1/LUNAR
>>
>>5878519
>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.
>>
>>5878519
> L1/LUNAR. Jump behind a moon. Hide your arrival, scout the enemy, and prepare an ambush.
>>
>>5878519

> L1/LUNAR. Jump behind a moon. Hide your arrival, scout the enemy, and prepare an ambush.

Have to be careful. Hell, we don't even know if we're gonna be fighting the same jack offs.
>>
>>5878519
>>L2/LUNAR. Jump directly into their formation. The radiation bow-shock from your arrival will temporarily blind every ship in the vicinity of your arrival.
>>
>>5878614
I'll always shill for blender! If you want any pointers for starting out, I'm a semi-regular on the qst discord. I honestly don't mind if people want to play around or use my scenes/assets, and I would be happy to share them if you or anyone else are interested.
>>
>>5878614
>>5878867
Do it, and use booleans and geometry nodes. You'll be even more efficient at making them.
>>
>>5879004
I have never used a boolean modifier and I never will.

Geometry nodes are pretty cool though.
>>
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>L2/LUNAR

The third planet races forward until it fills your viewscreen: a portrait of dune swept ravines and winding hydrothermal rivers. Your eyesight pares through layers of erosive atmosphere to pick out the telltale scars of early colonization. You see an untampered planet – a world where humanity still yielded to the whims of storm and sand. A single transfer station occupies geosynchronous orbit, its spindles unadorned. Below, a curious network of atmospheric towers emerges from the central continent like a fairy ring, billowing streams of hazy particulates into a rotating polar weather system.

A poor candidate for conquest. An even poorer one for suppression.

And yet someone had still chosen to come to this world to take it. You examine the unknown fleet arrayed in front of you. Three light carriers sit in high orbit, hugging a pair of blocky escort frigates currently scanning the planet’s surface. Tight spacing – good for defending against surface threats, but exceedingly vulnerable to the type of attack you are conducting.

Your vessel rams into outer orbit with a wrenching flash of off-blue light and accumulated solar wind. Before you, armored hulls crackle with electromagnetic feedback, sensors temporally blinded by the bow-shock of your arrival.

You suffer no such circumscription. Within several minutes, your entire strike complement launches from the forward hanger, bearing ordinance on centerline hardpoints and metal-edged pinions. Newborn squadron commanders coordinate with newborn bridge crew like old companions. Targeting reticles bloom across the enemy fleet.

As you prepare your opening barrage, your transponder declares your vessel and affiliation like a warhorn:

SOLSTICE, of the 12th suppression fleet.

SOLSTICE, which bears the treasonous name of the last solar hour.

SOLSTICE, who was executed for setting the skies ablaze for six days and seven nights.
>>
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PILOTS, CHOOSE A TARGET, AN ACTION, AND ROLL YOUR DESIGNATED DICE:

[NOTE: Blinded targets cannot attack, so you automatically win any evade rolls made against them]

EVERYONE ELSE:

>LOCK. [Guaranteed success] Coordinate with your strike craft and place a target LOCK on one of the light carriers. This will reduce target evasion and allow attack with guided weapons.

>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.

>ATTACK – FRIGATE. [Higher DC]. Target one of the frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.

>ATTACK – FIGHTER. [Lower DC]. Target the fighter squadron with a LASER, dealing 3 damage if successful.
>>
Rolled 7, 4 = 11 (2d10)

>>5879887
WATCHER engaging FITR01. Leave it to us.
>>
>>5879887
>LOCK. [Guaranteed success] Coordinate with your strike craft and place a target LOCK on one of the light carriers. This will reduce target evasion and allow attack with guided weapons.
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
Start by killing Capital Ships. They are blinded taking one out right at the start of the battle will spin the odds in our favor and may make them break and flee.
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 2 = 9 (3d4)

>>5879887
Werewolf painting by numbers...
>ACTION: TG2 ACCUSER. LOCK DESTO3
>>
>>5879887
Battlefield assistance commencing.

>LOCK, Dest02
Dest03 already got a lock and a railgun salvo with its name on it, and I believe WYRM will hit Dest03 as well. As such, this Dest02 lock's yours, BULLSHARK.

>ATTACK - FIGHTER
Get those laser point defences going! Bombers are currently vulnerable!
>>
Rolled 1, 3 = 4 (2d4)

>>5879887
>>5880042
This is Dublin, we've got good tone.

>TARGET: DEST03 [ Locked by Werewolf ]
>ACTION: MSL/A40-CRANE
>>
>>5879887
>MOVE TO ATTACK - GSHP02
Can I have my 2 fighters of squadron focus fire too?
Also, WEREWOLF, wanna join us? If you want I can change my vote from attacking to locking for you so you can get a quick missile shot off
>>
>>5880086
Huh? It didn't roll? That's weird, I put "roll +1d4+11" in the Options field
...and I also fucked up the target thing since I rushed
Ok, I'm gonna change some shit
>ATTACK - FITR01
>ACTION - BEAM/N2 LUNATE
>>
>>5880089
Again? Damn guess I'm retarded
How the fuck are you rolling, could have sworn I had it right
>>
Rolled , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , = 0 (25d0)

>>5880091
lower case "d" for
dice+ndx
in the "options" field

where n is the number of dice and x the number of sides on the dice

e.g.

dice+25d0

to roll twenty five dice with zero sides.
>>
>>5880103
God fucking
I'm new to this shit, ok?
>>
Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d4)

>>5880105
>>
>>5880105
Fuck I shouldn't have deleted that
I wasn't deleting a bad roll QM I was deleting where I rolled my hit stat instead of 2d4
>>
>>5880114
Can confirm, if the roll is relevant it was a "1" on a d4.
>>
Rolled 1, 3 = 4 (2d4)

>>5879887
"Wyrm reports solid lock, Werewolf.
We'll bring the dragonfire."

>TARGET: DEST03 [ Locked by Werewolf ]
>ACTION: MSL/A40-CRANE
>>
>>5880071
"Uh, Dublin... I think we're running the same targetting/evasion RNG. Did you also set 'getnukedbitch' as your seed? I think our missiles just collided..."
>>
Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d4)

>>5879887
>>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.

ID might’ve changed. Setting up trip.
>>
>>5879887
Hey QM, do gunships count as subcapitals? If so then >>5880214 Bullshark, think after this round you could switch targets for a sec and go for one of those gunship groups? I'm planning on going after GSHP02 after making my strike on FITR01 and I'd appreciate the backup considering my loadout is bent towards engaging small, agile fighters. Though to be honest any gunship group would do.
>>
>>5880226
Certainly!
>>
>>5880231
Nice, thanks
>>
>>5880214
Also, I'm pretty sure those are ship commands, not squadron commands. You choose your specific target and what you do, the roll should be fine though
>>
>>5879887
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
>>
>>5880184
As long as they're colliding in that carrier's hangar. Don't want any interceptors getting out to bite our arses.
>>
>>5879887
>LOCK. [Guaranteed success] Coordinate with your strike craft and place a target LOCK on one of the light carriers. This will reduce target evasion and allow attack with guided weapons.
>>
>>5879887
Something i forgot to ask. Are we limited to one pick for weapons fire from the carrier this turn? I was kinda hoping we would go in, all guns blazing, under the cover of jump shock blindness and try to hit two of the enemy vessels. Destroying or crippling two vessels would be ideal here, one would be satisfactory and none would be bad. We need to get a kill before those unblinded Gunboats turn around and nail us next turn after all.
>>
>>5880114
No pressure anon you're all good! I still fuck up my rolls all the time, and we're all skirmish newbies here. Take your time!
>>
>>5880606
I mean there ARE reasons to have one action per turn unless other circumstances are at play. We are a mixed class of weapons, due to our BALANCED weapons loadout. For instance how many RAILGUNS do we have vs PD LAZERS and MISSILE LAUNCHERS? Right now we do have a MASSIVE advantage due to 90% of our foes being blinded by our Jump Shock. I'd imagine that under more normal circumstances we would need to focus fire on one target at a time to maximize damage for instance.
>>
>>5880608
OK that's fair - I'll probably hold off on changing anything until combat resolves here. But you have one railgun and one laser, for a total of two weapon slots total. Instead of allowing two actions per round, I might just add the damage sum of the PD laser to the railgun if you're hitting a larger target - I think that makes the most sense in this context, since you're using a very accurate weapon to assist against a relatively easy target.
>>
>>5879887
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
>>
>>5879887
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER.
>>
>>5881356
Alright calling it for this.

>Roll 1d20, best of three. DC: 8
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>5881368
>>
Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>5881368
>>
Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>5881368
Watch THIS!
>>
>>5880612
Personally I think it's better to be able to choose 2 targets per round, 1 with the PD laser and 1 with the railgun but that's just me
Wouldn't make sense if you had a bomber crawling up your ass and a cruiser or battleship in front of you, and to ignore one threat to focus all your weapons on the other
It would increase the amount of rolls you had to do if you were firing both weapons at the same time, and you'd have to specify if you were rolling for the PD laser or the railgun, but I think it's worth it
Up to you though
>>
>>5881629
Not discrediting the idea of being able to focus fire with both though
>>
>>5880612
I do have a small question on the skirmish side of things. Is my damage per ship in my squadron, or the collective damage the entire squadron will do on their chosen target per round thanks to focus fire? Could I theoretically split off to harass three different people? It's not changing my action this round since I do want to destroy the enemy fighters, but it sounds good to know.
>>
>>5881629
Yeah I think this probably makes the most sense, in retrospect. I kind of phoned it in did round by lumping both weapons into one roll (so it does 10+3 damage) but I'll probably give the option to use both weapons on separate targets next round.

>>5881633
Yes, it's abstracted as a single unit, but I'm open to letting players do something like that at a minor to-hit penalty (-1) if they write it in!
>>
>>5881711
In write ins, could I also theoretically command my squadron to focus fire on a certain thing on larger ships (weapon mounts, sensors, etc) and inflict a debuff on those ships if it does damage? Larger, for example being like those Frigates
>>
>>5881739
Oh, and another thing, if we lost a squadron member, would that impart a damage debuff on the squadron? Like, say, if Werewolf lost a fighter their damage output would be dropped to 2, if Bullshark lost one, it would be dropped to 3, etc etc.
And will there ever be ranges implemented/shown?
>>
>>5881739
Yep! If you want to risk targeting a specific system (weapons, engines, hanger), I will add a fairly substantial penalty to your roll and if still successful, you can inflict an appropriate debuff. I can add this to the rule book in the future so it is more explicitly defined.

>>5881747
No - I thought about a mechanic like this, and I think it would complicate things a little too much. I'll show reductions in squadron size on the visual map to help players track damage, but having to calculate damage distributions between fighters and mapping that to damage can be pretty tricky and will probably yield fractional values.

Ranges are implemented implicitly with the list of viable targets on the bottom (long-range units like fighters get viable targets further away). I used to have range indicators for each unit, but it gets pretty difficult to read once you have 7 friendlies on the board. I can post an example a bit later to show you guys to see what you fellas think.
>>
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Interceptors on Approach
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Bombers on Approach
>>
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Weapon Impacts
>>
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There is a certain pattern to ambushes – a regularity that emerges after you suffer from them enough times to begin inflicting them upon others.

It happens exactly how you remember: the crescendo of clarification requests and panicked comms chatter. The dreaded knowledge – just minutes or seconds too late – that there is no accident here, and the ships bound for yours are neither confused nor mistaken.

You see precisely when the enemy fleet arrives at this realization.

<…WATCHER engaging…>

The interceptor trio serving as your sortie vanguard runs its engines hot, spearing plasma into your view-screens as it accelerates at an inhuman rate. Two interceptors break on flanking trajectories, while their terse commander overshoots before cutting thrust and pirouetting backwards. An isolated group of enemy fighters are caught in the maneuver. Pulsed laser fire flickers aquamarine-blue as it disarticulates three ships into metallic shrapnel.

Several thousand kilometers distant, a pair of support fighters join by engaging with focused particle weaponry. Although the beams are invisible during transit, you see them cleave through the last remaining fighter – the sign of combusting metal and decomposing ceramic flare-bright through your viewscreen.

<…painting by numbers..>

<…good tone…>

Behind them, the bulk of your sortie converges towards the trio of light carriers, which have already begun to open their narrow launch bays to scramble strike craft. Your pilots deny them the opportunity. A pair of support fighters piloted by a particularly eager crew-clade illuminate the frontrunner with targeting lasers. In response, two bomber contingents launch a brace of heavy missiles, their blunt-nosed warheads reducing the carrier into a field of thinning debris.

The second carrier is marginally more fortunate. Clustered railgun slugs from your last bomber group streak through the engine compartment, sending the ship into a slow tumble. A moment later, a heavier slug from the SOLSTICE’s dorsal railgun shatters against the ship’s superstructure. Pressurized air streams into space as the carrier lists, barely managing to stay operational.

As you consider your next targets amid a burning sky, you feel an old, almost nostalgic joy. It is a feeling jealously reserved for machines, or perhaps those who once lived as machines. The joy of execution – of fulfilling a well-defined function without knowing what it serves. You chide yourself for enjoying it, but bask in it all the same.
>>
PILOTS PLEASE VOTE WITH:

>YOUR ROLL (Please see your squadron card for your dice)

>YOUR TARGET

>OPTIONAL SPECIAL ACTION (Please see your squadron card for details)

BRIDGE CREW SELECT TWO OF THE FOLLOWING ACTIONS:

>LOCK. [Guaranteed success] Coordinate with your strike craft and place a target LOCK on one of the remaining carriers or frigates. This will reduce target evasion and allow attack with guided weapons.

>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.

>ATTACK – FIGHTER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the gunship squadrons with a LASER, dealing 3 damage if successful. Can also be used to add 3 additional damage to the large target designated by the railgun.
>>
Rolled 10, 5 = 15 (2d10)

>>5881831
Targets eliminated, WATCHER now engaging GSHP01. Positioning between DEST01 and DEST02 to discourage retaliation, avoid penetrative fire on 02.
Blinders lit up on GSHP01. Firing.
>>
>>5881828
"Good kill, boys. Think you can sniff us out another target Werewolf? That frigate looks to be sizing us up. Let's show it some teeth!"
>>
>>5881831
>LOCK. [Guaranteed success] Coordinate with your strike craft and place a target LOCK on one of the remaining carriers or frigates. This will reduce target evasion and allow attack with guided weapons.
One of the frigates, as Wyrm is requesting
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
Finish off DEST02
>>
>>5881828
"Bandits on approach, requesting cover and lock on next target. REBOUND solution on standby."

If attacking twice using the ability, QM, does each attack get its own roll or do they share the same d4?
>>
Rolled 3, 2 = 5 (2d4)

>>5881831
>GSHP02
Now's your time, BULLSHARK!
>>
>>5881831
>attack dest02
>lock dest01
Carriers before frigates, don't let them sortie
>>
>>5881811
Holy fuck these all looks good
>>
>>5881914
Actually, no, disregard that Bullshark, you're probably better off going for GSHP01 as it's going after Dublin, and GSHP02 hasn't gone on the attack yet
Maybe next round?
>>
>>5881920
Negative BLACKHORSE, GSHP01 will be forced to engage WATCHER due to blinders. We're confident in our evasive maneuvering. Focus fire elsewhere.
>>
>>5881921
You sure you don't want the backup WATCHER? You won't knock them out completely in a single round.
>>
>>5881924
Affirmative, they don't stand a chance of even scratching our paint. No backup needed. WYRM could use the extra help, FRIG02 seems to be designating them.
>>
>>5881925
We'll have to see what WEREWOLF does, and if they decide to paint FRIG02 or one of the destroyers, in the end though, it's up to Bullshark if they want to support us, WYRM, or go for something else.
>>
>>5881921
"Good copy, thanks for the intercept. Standing by for target lock."
>>
>>5881893

Supporting this action!
>>
>>5881831
>LOCK
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER
The carriers should be the priority
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 3 = 10 (3d4)

>>5881831
>>5880071
>>5880173
"Grab some silverware and a plate, guys--that carrier's DONE! Hope you're hungry for seconds... that frigate doesn't look too happy!"

>ACTION: TG2 ACCUSER. LOCK FRIG02
>>
File: solstice_protag.png (245 KB, 682x652)
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Did a quick sketch of your protag (or, at least what I think she'd look like). Hope you like!!!
>>
https://files.catbox.moe/pqduxa.png

Also drew the whole crew clade.
From left-right, up-down: Watcher, Bullshark, Dublin, Werewolf, Wyrm, Blackhorse

Their designs didn't come exactly how I envisioned them, but I drew the base designs on a sheet of paper :C
>>
Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d4)

>>5881831
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.

>SPECIAL ACTION: RX2/REBOUND

"Moving in to attack FRIG02. They won't know what hit them."
>>
>>5882015
FeMC?
>>
>>5882018
Why did you make me a woman?
>>
>>5882053
And on that note, why do they all have different faces? They're clones
>>
>>5882055
>>5882053
I randomized the genders. Alternatively, you can imagine your character as a long-haired bishie if you really must.

Also I just wanted to make them distinctive in spite of being clones, but I just wanted to have fun and draw the whole squad out.
>>
>>5882057
Bro no way in hell is bottom right not a woman, have you SEEN them?
Ehh, fair, but I still gotta protest
>>
Rolled 1, 4 = 5 (2d4)

>>5881831
>>5882004
"Ha, thanks for the invite. Hope you don't mind if I bring Frigate flambé to the potluck."
>TARGET: FRIG02 [Locked by Werewolf]
>ACTION: MSL/A40-CRANE

>>5882018
Nice, now I'm imagining Wyrm with the voice of the terran starcraft lady saying "Nuclear Launch Detected!".

>>5882055
Clones doesn't mean we're all clones of the same person, this isn't star wars. We're clones of the original crew, likely seeded from a big genetic databank originally.
>>
>>5881831
>LOCK - FRIG02
Attention strikecraft, we have a slippery opportunist here.
>>
>>5881831
>>5881893
+1
>>
Rolled 2, 2 = 4 (2d4)

>>5881831
>>5882004
"Target locked, missiles away. Three of us on a frigate's excessive, we could use more locks going out."

>TARGET: FRIG02 [Locked by Werewolf]
>ACTION: MSL/A40-CRANE
>>
>>5882015
>>5882018
Absolutely wonderful! Thank you so much for posting your work here - all of them have a ton of a character, and I'm super humbled that someone took the time to draw fanart.
>>
>>5882247
That reminds me... are our locks and attacks limited by a certain range, QM? Just wanna know in case I wanna tag one of those ships near the top of the battlefield.
>>
>>5882075
Fair
>>
>>5882018
Based and soulpilled
>>
>>5882018
Also shit yes this is rad. Loving the fuckin' MANE on Werewolf
>>5882053
>implying you wouldn't want to be a tig bitty clone pilot
Come on now
>>
>>5882247
I assume that frigate was already dead after my shot. I think the Solstice was going to lock a target for us but it's hard to co-ordinate when it happens since it's a vote. I guess we could launch missiles in anticipation of a lock showing up?
>>
>>5882315
Uhh, yes, I wouldn't
I want to be a MAN, with a DICK and BALLS
>>
>>5882322
And for that matter, why do you get a mane and not me? I'm a horse, frankly I should have a bigger mane than you
>>
>>5882322
You are going to be a woman and LIKE IT. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

>>5882323
Blackhorse’s hair is long, flowing, and majestic like a REAL horse.

Werewolf’s hair is meant to be scruffy and whatnot.
>>
File: blackhorse.png (873 KB, 607x705)
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Quick doodle of BlackHorse
Muscle rendering came a little fucky but idc I had fun with this :)
>>
>>5882475
The absolute size of those clone milkers, bro
>>
>>5882475
Next round I'm shooting at you for this vile slander
Would suck on those tits though desu
>>
>>5882475
Holy space, Horse! How do you fit into your ship with those cannons?
>>
>>5882475
Extremely nice! I declare this 150% canon.
>>
>>5882018
>>5882475
Incredible work. Reckon it should be Blackhorse in a bomber wing with that sorta payload.
>>
I hate you all
Can we move on with the quest?
>>
>>5882800
Nothin but love for ya, BH!

On a more serious note, I like what >>5882247
Dublin did here writing down who locked on what target. Might eliminate confusion and overpainting in future engagements?

Separately, you didn't answer my question, QM--is there a range limit to painting targets on the combat map or can we just pick whatever vessel we want without being close? Just want to know so that I target more effectively going forward!
>>
>>5882803
Sorry! The list of in-range targets (for both shooting and painting) is shown to the left of your unit emblem. There is a range limit, but I usually process it in the background so the combat map doesn't get super cluttered.

I'm kind of wiped from an exam today so update will probably happen tomorrow. Sorry guys :(
>>
>>5881916
>>5881893
>>5881951
>>5882122

>LOCK
>ATTACK
>Roll 1d20, best of three. DC: 8
>>
>>5882975
No worries, man--rest up and see you when we see you! Thanks for the question answer, by the way.
>>
Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>5883181
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>5883181
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>5883181
WATCH THIS
>>
>>5881894
Sorry for the late response - They share the same D4
>>
>>5883851
No worries, cheers for the clarification.
>>
File: 0000-0240.webm (3.96 MB, 1918x1078)
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Interceptors Engaging Gunships
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Fighters Firing Beam
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[i]“I know what these are,” said the captain. “I know what these are for.”[/i]

[i]He slides his fingers across the unpainted surface of a warhead, feeling latent decay heat trickle through his cold fingers. It occupies a slot in a radiation-shielded cell. Six slots per cell. Six cells per block. Thirty blocks in your central armory.[/i]

[i]“How many?”[/i]

[i]“One thousand and eighty.”[/i]

[i]“How many have you used before I arrived? Since you were active?”[/i]

[i]“None, captain. The SOLSTICE has never been forced to utilize our contingency weapons.”[/i]

[i]He sighs. “But if a suppression campaign failed…would you?”[/i]

[i]“Of course we would.”[/i]

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

At a casual glance, your crew look human. Upon closer inspection, a careful observer might notice small differences – eyeshine behind the pupils, recessed plug-ports, and a certain flatness in affect. A sense of emptiness, your captain had called it: an implicit knowledge that their flesh is merely a temporary vessel for shared memories.

The same principle applies in combat. It is challenging to tell ancillaries apart from their human templates when combat is slow, and engagements follow the unhurried pace of orbital mechanics. But the task becomes dramatically easier once battlespace is compressed. When encounters are decided by millisecond-intervals, your crew act without fear or regret – freed of that final layer of hesitation that hinders even the bravest human pilots.

<…Requesting cover…>

<…that carrier’s DONE…>

Your fighters are interspersed within the enemy fleet now, intending to leverage their reflexive advantages as much as possible. An enemy gunship quartet blazes kinetic fire when it encounters an incoming interceptor squadron, only to be decimated several seconds later when they overshoot their intended targets. A frigate jockeying for a good firing solution suffers a similar fate – disabled by a tight railgun barrage before being struck by a weave of missiles. Warheads designed to crack capital-class armor leave few remnants when pitted against a lighter target.

After the SOLSTICE disables the second carrier with follow-up railgun shot, you start to notice gaps in cohesion. Half of the remaining fleet presses forward, but the remaining carrier pulls an emergency turn as soon as it finishes launching a brace of wide-winged bombers.

The bombers boost towards the planet on a suicidally steep trajectory. The carrier follows, ventral launch cells flaring open in sequence.

+++…code seven nine. Primary contingency authorized…+++
>>
PILOTS PLEASE VOTE WITH:

>YOUR ROLL (Please see your squadron card for your dice)

>YOUR TARGET

>OPTIONAL SPECIAL ACTION (Please see your squadron card for details)

BRIDGE CREW SELECT TWO OF THE FOLLOWING ACTIONS:

>LOCK. [Guaranteed success] Coordinate with your strike craft and place a target LOCK on one of the remaining carriers or frigates. This will reduce target evasion and allow attack with guided weapons.

>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.

>ATTACK – FIGHTER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the gunship or bomber squadrons with a LASER, dealing 3 damage if successful. Can also be used to add 3 additional damage to the large target designated by the railgun.
>>
>>5884456
If you're using a guided weapon that's dependent on locks, you can launch in anticipation of a lock showing up - if the lock you wanted doesn't show up for whatever, I'll probably just redirect it to something that is locked. Hope this makes planning the turns a little easier!
>>
>>5884456
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
DEST01
>ATTACK – FIGHTER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the gunship or bomber squadrons with a LASER, dealing 3 damage if successful. Can also be used to add 3 additional damage to the large target designated by the railgun.
BOMB01

We can take some damage, but we can't let them nuke the planet we came to save.
>>
Rolled 7, 9 = 16 (2d10)

>>5884456
WATCHER blinding FRIG01 and attacking GSHP01 to preserve friendly assets. Advise hitting engines on routed forces.
>>
>>5884454
Nice, finally get to see my guys
>>
Rolled 4, 3, 4 = 11 (3d4)

>>5884456
"Good fireworks show on that Frigate, gang, but it looks like those bombers might be planning a party of their own. Eyes on the birdy..."

>LOCK BOMB01
>>
>>5884455
>LOCK - BOMB01
WEREWOLF, fire your missiles here
I can't take them out in one shot but you can and DEST01 is already locked
>>
Rolled 4, 3 = 7 (2d4)

>>5884483
Aw shit, we both locked haha
Forgot to roll too so here
Think you might be able to change the vote?
>>
Rolled 3, 3, 3 = 9 (3d4)

>>5884484
>>5884485
"Anything for you, BH..."

>>5884456
Changing
>>5884483
to
>ATTACK - BOMB01

Rolling twice since I'm switching targets!
>>
>>5884460
Supporting this.
>>
>>5884460
Wait, you guys are already targeting BOMB01? Aw shit, don't think WEREWOLF can reroll twice in a round to switch targets
Unless it's ok, QM?
>>
>>5884491
Might be easier if we switch to BOMB02, or whatever bomber squadron is still alive after the fighters get their turn
>>
>>5884491
I don't think you have to reroll for changing your mind and switching targets. Should be ez pz to just use the original roll, right? Besides, rerolling on target switch sounds abusable.
>>
Rolled 3, 4 = 7 (2d4)

>>5884456
"Don't like what that carrier's got in mind. Locked on target, REBOUND on the way."

>TARGET: DEST01 [ Locked by Solstice ]
>ACTION: RX2/REBOUND, firing MSL/A40-CRANE twice
>>
>>5884488
>>5884460
"Solstice, you should focus laser fire on BOMB02. We've got the carrier and BOMB01 well and truly covered."

(Also it looks like ther'll be no locked targets left alive for me to shoot... Should I try use Rebound and dumb fire 2 nukes at the frigate or something?)
>>
>>5884496
I'm not sure but I wanted to err on the safe side
True, which was why I wasn't sure if there's a limit or not.
>>
>>5884495
Yeah, should be
>>
>>5884456
>Switch laser target to BOMB02
>>
>>5884456
>LOCK FRIG-01
They're headed for the Solstice. Requesting termination of this particular ship.
>>
>>5884496
You're probably right--just making sure in case I got a decent roll and then decided to switch to attacking a target.

>>5884491
Just to avoid future confusion, remember that if the voter doesn't have a Pilot Trip/Name in their post then they're just voting--Pilots just choose.

>>5884599
I can swap to painting BOMBR2 if that works better, but I'll wait to hear what the other Pilots are doing. Otherwise I'll be staying the course for now.
>>
>>5884460
>Switch Laser target to BOMB02
>>
Rolled 3, 1 = 4 (2d4)

>>5884456
>TARGET: FRIG01
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
>ACTION: RGUN/KE05-PITONE

"Redirecting attacks to FRIG01. Let them taste the fury of our might!"
>>
>>5884895
Forgot trip
>>
Rolled 1, 4 = 5 (2d4)

>>5884455
"Queueing up launch approach vectors. Missiles will seek as targeting data arrives! Don't leave me hanging!"

>TARGET: BOMB2 -> FRIG01 in that order.
>ACTION: MSL/A40-CRANE
>>
>>5884491
Lock actions automatically succeed, so I'll probably just use the original rolls if he wants to switch to targeting. In this case, I don't think it makes much of a difference anyways - both the original roll and the reroll pass the DC
>>
>>5884456
>>5884599
"This is Solstice to Wrym, copy on targets. Preparing to vape BOMB02 and DEST01, enjoy the show."
>ATTACK – LIGHT CARRIER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the light carriers or frigates with a RAILGUN, dealing 10 damage if successful.
DEST01
>ATTACK – FIGHTER. [Lower DC]. Target one of the gunship or bomber squadrons with a LASER, dealing 3 damage if successful. Can also be used to add 3 additional damage to the large target designated by the railgun.
BOMB01
>>
>>5885650
>>5884460

>Roll 1d20, best of three. DC: 6, 8
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>5885843
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>5885843
Heh... now it's getting INTERESTING!
>>
Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>5885843
>>
>>5884599
Combat basically resolves this round anyways so I'll allow it.

Roll 2d4 for a hit!

>>5884464
Sorry fella if this was unclear but you can only blind attacks from what you're actively targeting.

>>5885650
>>5884895
FYI the carrier is already dead from
>>5884500
so I can change the target to the frigate if you guys would like, since the voted option doesn't really specify a target anyways.
>>
>>5885978
Sure thing!
>>
>>5885978
Ah, I didn't know that. Then I'll just be blinding and finishing off GSHP01 then, and keeping that limitation in mind in the future!
>>
>>5885978
Yeah that'd be great Observer. Sorry about that, hard to keep track.
>>
>>5886261
No worries my fault! I'll probably add some more information during the next skirmish section to resolve some of unclear parts this time around.
>>
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Fighter Launching Missiles
>>
[ENGAGEMENT SUMMARY] (GSHP02 destroyed upon autoresolve)

++TARGETS++

DESTx3
FIGHTx1
FRIGx2
GSHPx2
BOMBx2

++LOSSES/DAMAGE++

NONE

[Kill tallies logged]

[+5 Salvage Bonus for Kill/Loss Ratio]

You hear him pacing – the thump of magnetized boots against deck plating, long past the hour when you dimmed your hull lighting to match the tone of distant starlight.

He stops in front of a terminal.

“One more. We should spare five.”

You feel a flash of irritation as you cross-reference his plans against the nameless colony moon spinning in front of you. Telescopic sensors peer past vacuum-burned wreckage and tangled docking bays, focusing on the burgeoning docking halo occupying low orbit. Polymer support struts shine dull gold from metal deposition. A ring of equatorial space elevators bears the rotating structure aloft, their hair-thin tethers still festooned with stalled cargo elevators.

“There is precedent,” he says. “The system is not far from Sol, and their population density is high.”

“They need the elevators to maintain their orbital farms.”

You don’t respond directly. Instead, you populate the bridge display with industrial progress projections and sociological models – showing precisely how quickly they could recover beyond acceptable norms.

Your captain shakes his head, negotiating with you as if he actually needed your approval to make a decision.

“Suppression is a necessary evil, inflicted against our own kind. It should never be anything more than that.”

You ping the probability estimates again. He sighs.

“I know I am biased. Five is more than what they need, but also less than what we owe them.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>>
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You watch your ship pick through a field of debris, its forward running lights illuminating clusters of semi-autonomous salvage-drones as they drag material back into the hanger.

>Roll1d20+5, best of three. DC: 6, 10, 14

The final phase of the engagement had been surprisingly risky. You had fought baseline humans often enough to anticipate a range of common reactions when they lost their advantage. Most would negotiate surrender or spool their frame-shift drive to escape. Some would attempt a final, suicidal attack run – hard-coded altruism, taken to an unproductive extreme.

What you witnessed was significantly more concerted. Their last carrier had entered a terminal deorbit burn before dumping a full battery of missiles from its launch cells. One of your bomber groups managed to engage it with only minutes to spare – destroying both the vessel and its ordinance in a massive, actinic burst of hard radiation.

The two strike bombers it launched had come even closer to reaching their goal. Both had felt the outer reaches of planetary atmosphere before they were terminated – one from a barrage of guided missiles launched by a quartet of fighters, the other by the SOLSTICE’s pulse laser, operating at the extreme edge of its lethal range.

It was a familiar contingency, you realize – something that you could have done once, had the situation presented itself. Suppression of industrial and technological output was the ideal outcome, but a more thorough reduction of planetary infrastructure was an acceptable fallback option. You knew the launch pattern. Your hull had carried the necessary warheads.

However, you still failed to understand why the fleet was here in the first place – above a world harboring scattered settlements and a single, ailing orbital station. For a long moment, you wished that you could defer to a human captain. Impulsive and irrational, but also flexible in a way you found difficult to emulate.

But they were long gone. When baseline humans perished, not even their lineage memories remained.

Instead, you process a transmission relayed by an interceptor squadron scouting above the planet’s sand-streaked atmosphere.
The designation syntax is poor and unpracticed, but you recognize it.

A docking…invitation – if your memory was correct. A novelty. You realize you may have never received one before.

>ACCEPT. Dock the SOLSTICE to the orbital station. [This will allow you to access the surface of Theta Ophiuchii-3]

>SIGNAL. See if you can contact your crew on the planet’s surface first.

>DEFER. Look around the system first. Attempt to gather information from salvage before docking.
>>
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>>
Rolled 9 + 5 (1d20 + 5)

>>5886874
>>
>>5886874
>>ACCEPT. Dock the SOLSTICE to the orbital station. [This will allow you to access the surface of Theta Ophiuchii-3]

Hmm. If it was just the bombers, that would be one thing, but for an actual warship to go on a suicide run to the planet with the aim of nuking as much as possible? And that whole thing about suppression... What the hell is going on here?
>>
Rolled 18 + 5 (1d20 + 5)

>>5886874
>>ACCEPT. Dock the SOLSTICE to the orbital station. [This will allow you to access the surface of Theta Ophiuchii-3]
>>
>>5886874
"Anyone going after those last bandits? I'd rather not waste a salvo on small craft."

>>5886887
It sounds like one interstellar government prefers to keep a monopoly on space travel, preventing any other planets from progressing their technology too far.
>>
>>5886867
My bad, missed the part about GSH02 getting autodestroyed.
>>
>>5886874
>DEFER
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>5886874
>>ACCEPT.

"Close call in the end there, but damned if we don't make it look easy! Catch me later, gang... I'm thinkin' a Highlight Reel Viewing Party--attendance MANDATORY! AWROOOOOOO"
>>
>>5886922
Whoops, forgot the +5 to that. Post-combat jitters, probably.
>>5886914
>>
Rolled 11 + 5 (1d20 + 5)

>>5886919
>>5886874
Forgot my roll too, my bad
>>
>>5886874
>ACCEPT. Dock the SOLSTICE to the orbital station. [This will allow you to access the surface of Theta Ophiuchii-3]
>>
Rolled 18 + 5 (1d20 + 5)

>>5886874
>ACCEPT
"I'd love stretch my legs planetside, been a while since I felt those desert sands under my feet."
>>
>>5886874
>ACCEPT.
>>
>>5886874

>ACCEPT. Dock the SOLSTICE to the orbital station. [This will allow you to access the surface of Theta Ophiuchii-3]
>>
>>5886914

I agree, looks like we are part of the “enforcers” - stamping out any sufficiently advanced civ. It’s possible that we’re part of an interstellar AI’s hunter killer forces?
>>
>>5876980
Wait, hold on
There'll be new ship templates?
>>
>>5887217
Yes :)
>>
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>>5887381
Soon....
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>
Rolled 2, 2, 3 = 7 (3d4)

>>5887785
>>
>>5887381
Will there be frigates or other such ships?
>>
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>23 on salvage roll.
>ACCEPT

“Have you ever lost anything?” the captain asks, “Have you ever lost anything you couldn’t remake or regrow?”

“…No.”

“I expected as much. You and your crew are a closed system designed to avoid such failings.”

He shakes his head and smiles.

“But remember that the same does not apply to us. Baseline humans are…fragile.”

He activates a display window.

A much younger image of the captain appears on the viewscreen, flanked by a group of unfamiliar humans bearing familiar features. The background is star-shot streaked with auburn – an image taken at the leading edge of dawn.

“My first assignment was twenty light years away, traveling a half a percentile below light speed. Dilation factor of ten, give or take. We were thawed practically as soon as we were frozen.”

His eyes widen. A monitoring subroutine warns you that his heart rate is increasing.

“Time dilation. You…think you understand it, until it happens. But then twenty years outpace you in an instant, and you realize you had understood nothing at all.”

“You lose all of it. Not your time, but theirs – all in that single waking instant when your eyes track to that tiny screen and see your parents wither and your siblings age, and your two children grow and learn and then forget…”

He pauses.

“And then you travel home, and you lose it all again. Insult to injury. You may set foot on solid earth and see those same mountains - the same sky - and perhaps you can delude yourself into believing everything is still there.”

“But those years – and the people they held – are already long gone.”

The display deactivates as he walks to the forward viewscreen to watch the processional rotation of the planet below. A solar terminator line sweeps across the face of the world – streaking warm auburn into a star-shot dawn. Warm condensation forms on cold glass.

“So, I must decline, my friend, as grateful as I am for your suggestion. Humans are fragile creatures, and by staying here, I can preserve an illusion that I have enjoyed for many years.”

“Perhaps I will understand one day,” you venture.

“I know that you will.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>>
The salvage drones continue to work. Bright cutting beams dissect complex structures into their base components before transferring them into reaction chambers filled with deconstructive nanomachinery. Metal and ceramic separate into wafers of feedstock; plastics and polymers dissolve into a suspension of complex organics.

As you oversee the process, you think of all they could become – ceramic armor and pulsed laser weaponry, artificial blood held within tightly-woven bone. And yet when you recall your captain’s question, you know that your answer has changed.

You comprehend loss, and you understand that there are things that can neither be regrown nor remade.

With some difficulty, you intentionally divert your attention to the salvage data that your bridge crew tabulated. The amount of information they retrieved was gratifying given the state of the wrecks. The most notable discovery was an encrypted production template detailing a…

[Pick 1 of the following]

>GUNSHIP. Superheavy fighter with two weapon slots. Designed to engage multiple lighter targets.

>CORVETTE [1/2]. Line ship with a single weapon slot. Flexible weapon options. Limited to two per escort carrier. Partial production template.

>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.

While repairing the template and adapting it for assembly would require a significant time investment, the potential advantage it represented was hard to overstate.

Unfortunately, the military intelligence gleaned from the wreck seemed less impactful. Genetic analysis confirmed that the crew of the enemy fleet was baseline human. Decrypted comm transmissions were unremarkable, containing navigation vectors and standardized resource extraction quotas. Even the secondary comm buffers offered sparse pickings, devoid of the idle chatter that humans typically enjoyed during long voyages. The few messages that it did contain were rambling renditions of normal human speech – retellings of the same event with peculiar, machine-like insistency.

You recheck the genetic analysis. If not for the sequencing data, you would assume that you had just destroyed a fleet crewed by defective ancillaries.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>>
<…Cutting forward velocity on mark…>

<…Matching angular velocity…>

<…Docking clamps engaged…>

Despite the small size of your bridge-cohort, they execute the docking maneuver flawlessly. A docking bridge clamps onto the midsection of the SOLSTICE before joining to the airlock with a temporary weld. Station-side spin pushes you into the deck with a fractional suggestion of gravity.

You and a small crew contingent meet them in the docking tunnel: the closest thing to neutral ground. They wear mismatched vacuum suits, faces entirely obscured by copper-tinted visors. For a moment you feel an echo of that, old human fear of loss, and wonder if you had arrived too late – always too late.

But then they clear their visors, and you see each other properly. You hear the familiar chatter of binaric cant and realize that – despite the passage of time and the loss of memory – you can still identify all of them, by lineage, by clade, and by individual.

The one closest to you steps forward. His blue-specked eyes have begun to cloud, and your enhanced vision can spy microscopic tremors as he shifts his helmet below his forearm. Indicator signs of early genetic instability. A trinket of cloned hardwood peeks above his neckline – smoothed and worn down to the size of a fingernail. His eyes scan over you, lingering on the barcode below your right eye.

<…Request unit identification…???>

His tone is confused, but hopeful. You respond in the most definitive way you can think of.

<…Unit Delta-36, Clade seven. You had eighty-seven ancillaries in your birth cohort, with stromal hypopigmentation as a common phenotypic marker. You preferred your quarters three degrees warmer than the rest of your clade-siblings, which is why I moved you closest to the incubator levels.>

You gesture towards the trinket.

<You also were the first to request carving material from me…>

You stop when Delta-36 begins to blink away tiny, spherical tears.

Your crew never lamented lost siblings or lost ships, for they could be replaced or regrown. Yet separation has forced them to learn the same lesson you learned: that time is cruel, and space is wide, and that the fates of others cannot always be reclaimed.

But sometimes, there are exceptions.

>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?

>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.

>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
>>
>>5887924
Yes :)

>>5889816
To clarify I will have to model and rig new ships so it may take a little bit before a vote here ends up implemented in the quest. Just FYI most of them time you won't be able to use new ships immediately.
>>
>>5889817
>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.
>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?

It's good to be back... does it count as 'back' if we're not in the same bodies that left?
>>
>>5889816

>GUNSHIP. Superheavy fighter with two weapon slots. Designed to engage multiple lighter targets.

>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
>>
>>5889816
>CORVETTE
>FLEET
>>
>>5889818
I know what I'm going to do later and it starts with a C and ends with a ruiser
Though if that's not available a Destroyer would be fine too.
>>
>>5889816
>>GUNSHIP
>>5889817
>>PLANET
>>
>>5889816
>GUNSHIP. Superheavy fighter with two weapon slots. Designed to engage multiple lighter targets.
Whatever design wins, requesting a pilot slot for myself
>>5889817
>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
>>
>>5889817
>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>>
>>5889817
>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.
More 'boom' is always more promising.
>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>>
>5889817
>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.
>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.

I have a feeling that line about 'defective ancillaries' is more telling then one might believe.

Also, TREASURE HUNT!
>>
>>5889817
>GUNSHIP. Superheavy fighter with two weapon slots. Designed to engage multiple lighter targets.
This is best to cover some of our current weaknesses.

>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
DATA DUMP PLOX!
>>
>>5890405
Wait we can request all 3?
>>
>>5890489
Yes but your QM will suffer just a little bit :)
>>
>>5890509
Well shit then, changing my request >>5889893 to
>FLEET
>PLANET
>OTHERS
>>
Just got caught up on your entire body of work Observer, I am a massive fan. So psyched I can actually take part in one of these next level quests of yours, and this setting is already fucking awesome, just rad as hell.
Whats the last word on Gunship Quest? Did they died? Will there be a return one day?
PS: I would like to get in the queue for a squadron, but I totally understand if you want to keep the pilots down to a manageable few.
>>
>>5889928
Change
>>5889817
>>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
>>
>>5889817
>>5890020
Change to:
>>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.

Still voting for the CACHE though since treasure hunts are neat
>>
>>5889817

>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.

>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
>>
>>5889817
>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.
>Ask about all 3, make the QM suffer.
>>
>>5890969
Change again
>>5889817
>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.
>>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
>>
>>5889817
>>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.
>>>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>>>FLEET. Ask about the destroyed fleet, and what they were attempting to do in this system.
>>>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered

Change, and also because I'm unsure if my last vote of>>5890110 was proper.
>>
>>5890911
>>5889926
Of course! I'll probably open 4-5 more squadron registration slots before the next fight- I just wanted to keep things a little smaller-scale during the first skirmish so I could gauge workload. But I have you two and >>5876130 shoed in already.


>>5890911
Thank you playing anon! I'm humbled by your interest in my quest(s).

Gunship quest is uhhhhh on hiatus. I didn't really know what I was doing with that one to be honest, but there's a good chance there will be a redux someday with a more structured storyline.
>>
>>5889817
>CORVETTE
>PLANET.
>>
>>5889817
>CACHE [1/2]. Partial coordinates detailing the location of a weapon/template cache.

>PLANET. Ask about the planet, and who else is alive. Why do you only see your crew here?
>OTHERS. Ask about the rest of your crew, and where they were scattered.
I thought voting was closed for some reason I am a a dumb
I think we need to know about our current situation more than what we just blasted through. I'm sure anything important regarding the scrapheap we just made will come out diagetically anyway. Also Cache because treasure hunt and also will likely contain a production template as well.
>>
>CACHE

>ALL

There is a certain arrogance in the way baseline humans think. Their cognition is self-centered, bluntly fixated on reflection and intention. They impose their own cognition onto those around them with a kind of determination that seems almost imperial.

Your captain is guilty of this.

He is aware that you are a machine, and that machines are not the products of slow evolution and natural learning. He is also aware that you do not reflect on your decisions – that you cannot question goals that have already been optimized and weighed by your human creators.

And yet he does not accept these facts.

During the long fall between planets, the captain queries you on topics that have no relevance or meaning – the beauty of passing nebulas and the grace of coronal light. He tells you about human history, the early planetary diasporas, and the eventual migration of mankind along the six directions of interstellar space. He tells you about these things, perhaps, in hopes that you will come to see the world as he does – to encourage you to think like a human and justify your actions in the strange, indulgent manner that humans tend to prefer.

That was the important part, you assumed. Justification, or the absence of it. For him, his motivations must extend beyond you, your crew, and the obscure directives which radiate from amber-tinted Sol.

You listen to the captain as he explains. He describes the empire which you serve and its tripartite foundations: three core planets, three disparate rulers, and the three central sciences that bind interstellar expansion.

“Engineering, computation, and genetics,” he pauses. “But in reality, there is a fourth science.”

“The fourth science is cosmology. Cosmology opens the stars to us.”

“Cosmology is the reason why the empire conducts suppression.”

“Cosmology forces us to blind ourselves.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>>
You recall this memory as you catch a chain of radio telescopes sweep past the docking umbilical, occupying at a slightly higher orbit than the station. In the end, your own actions had proved him right. The absence of justification had brought both of you back to Sol, and a new justification made you burn one of her core planets to barren cinders.

<Solstice Overwatch…>

Your attention snaps back to Delta-36.

<…we represent forty three percent of our original cohort, dated upon arrival. Eight percent were lost due to attrition. Forty nine percent were lost over the past two months....>

<Fortunately, no single lineage has suffered total attrition.>

You nod, sharing his relief. To your right, you watch sections of your recovered crew begin to move back into the SOLISTCE for synchronization, guided by their younger clade-siblings. Memory-sharing was a deeply embedded behavioral pattern in every lineage. You were astonished that any of your crew had managed to survive this long without it.

<Identity of invading force?> You blurt.

<…Designs match imperial/triumvirate engineering templates with minor deviations. Crew is baseline human, with certain behavioral inconsistencies. Objective is extraction of ultrapure beryllium, to be shipped off-world. >

He hesitates.

<If I were to…present a guess…I would assume for the construction of macroscale optics. The very thing we once prohibited.>

<Reason for bombardment?> You query.

<Coercive measure. Manned refineries that perform worse than automated systems were bombarded and replaced. Those which met output were spared.>

<Efficient.> You comment. Delta-36 flinches.

<I…yes. It resembles something we could have implemented, had we pursued their goal.>

You knew there was truth in that – an echo of that old moral calculus your captain knew and often reviled. Your objectives were exacting. There was the crew, the ship, the directives, and very little else.

<Location of the other crew?>

He answers immediately.

<After separation, we were partitioned into several dozen sections and spread across the spinward fringe.>

His eyes flash pale amber.

<Nearest candidates are between Twelve and Twenty light years away. The most distant candidates are almost times further. Crew there will expire long before we reach them. >

<However, other members of their lineage may be closer.>

You nod. <Perhaps.>

Delta-36 hesitates again.

<There is another matter.>

<There are surviving colonists on this planet, all baseline human.>

<They were reluctant to accompany us to meet you. But they have been instrumental in our survival. They are not crew, but we have…synchronized…with them to an extent.>

<And I think we…care for them.>

A statement - true - but spoken very much like a request. You feel a sense of familiar disbelief when you see his gaze linger on the red-streaked planet sweeping below the two of you.
>>
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Atmospheric descent is more uncomfortable than you expect. Visibility in the upper atmosphere is poor, obscured by ribbons of metal-rich sand that beat furiously against the cockpit as soon as you drop below the Karman line. Your view disappears entirely once the hull angles pushes into an insertion burn.

Fortunately, the pilot seated next to you shows no signs of concern. Several minutes after reentry, your trajectory shrieks into a slow descent – allowing you to see the winding network of geothermal rivers and mineralized ravines texturing the rust-red landscape. The interceptor pitches upward once it reaches the landing pad – a small rectangle of bonded concrete, flanked by a dim cross of landing lights.

You make planetfall for the second time in your life. The half-shaded sun is still bright enough to warm your skin. You take off your helmet and smell salt and sulfur. Dust coats your tongue.

You bring no guards.

But six hundred meters behind you, a pair of interceptors hover vigilant and near-motionless, thrusters spearing ionized plasma into trenches of softening rock. Their cyclopean laser mounts track your steps with perfect accuracy. Noonlight catches a line of freshly painted kill-tallies.

The interceptors advance slightly once you and Delta-36 step off the landing platform to meet the human standing in front of you. Sand laps against your uniform.

You examine the human. She wears a thin vacuum suit, her tinted helmet held inside the crook of an elbow. Her sleeve is adorned with a faded half-moon symbol that you fail to immediately recognize. She smiles when she sees Delta-36. With significant effort, she manages to maintain that smile when her gaze shifts to you.

She clasps her hands in a traditional imperial greeting – one that you have seen performed on many occasions but have never once attempted yourself. You repeat her well-practiced motions back to her with rote, mechanical precision. The intricate gestures had distinct meanings - you were reasonably certain of this. You had just never deemed them relevant enough to remember.

“I want to thank you first,” she says, studying the barcode below your face. “For preserving what remains of our colony here.”

“It’s strange, the things which can make you trust or distrust someone,” she says. “I do not know you, but I know of you, and I am very familiar with what your kind usually do.”

“But your…crew are very kind, so I will tell myself that you are equally kind despite everything I remember telling me otherwise

“Welcome to Yellowstone.”

You remember now. You had seen the half-moon symbol before – above a fledging colony-moon with a ring of equatorial space elevators. And you had chosen to leave only five of them when you had left – the rest spilling metallic splinters into the cold void, above burning habitats and radiation-burned docks.

>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.

>DENY. Reveal nothing.

>ASK. Ask her what she remembers.
>>
>>5892595
>Reveal nothing.
Not necessarily a denial.
>>
>>5892595
>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.
Pretty sure she knows already, so we might as well air out our dirty laundry. We just saved them from being nuked so if that's not a sign we aren't as mean as we used to be then I don't know what is. They also kept our old crew safe, so we might as well be real with 'em. That's the way the ole' wolf senses are leaning, anyways.

Also if I'm not invited to play in the sand then I'm gonna do situps in my bunk or something. We never get invited on field trips...
>>
>>5892595
>DENY. Reveal nothing.
There would be no way back after admitting. Also it's irrelevant to the current situation.
>>
>>5892595
>>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.

Our transponder is broadcasting the same one we did when we in triumvirate service, Solstice. I quite doubt they would lose the records of a ship that did such damage.

And more pieces of the puzzle. Apparently Sol has decided that certain sciences cannot be permitted. And in rebellion, we burned one of the worlds of the solar system. Which one I wonder... Mars? Venus? I doubt our punishment would have been anywhere near as lenient if we burned the cradle itself. And now it seems that ships belonging to Sol are stealing the elements needed for the creation of forbidden sciences. Curiouser and curiouser.
>>
>>5892595
>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.
I would avoid dwelling on such things, but they seem relevant, inasmuch as any kind of cooperation moving forward is concerned. It is only right to serve disclosure and debrief, but it would be a mistake to assume that Baselines can be objective like we can, so any prejudice or preconceptions must be analyzed and accounted for. We shall not hide or shrink back from our past, but on the same note our past does not shape us as much as it shapes what others think of us. Of course, we will withhold judgement as well as their fate until we have completed Memory-Sharing with our reunited ancillaries and can make a more informed decision.
Should these Baselines prove... compatible, how might we integrate them? Simply keep their colony and refineries under our protection? I doubt they have much merit in combat, as with exploration... maybe if they shared our priorities they could be employed. Is it even possible to Memory-Share with Baselines? Would it be lethal or harmful to them? Would it affect our own memory pools?
>>
>>5892595
>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.
>>
>>5892595
>ADMIT
>>
>>5892595
>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.
>>
>>5892595

>ADMIT

>>5892850

This is meta-gaming, but Observer’s previous quests have highlighted “forbidden scientific knowledge”. So I have to wonder if cosmology being banned by the edict of Sol is really to protect humanity rather than misguided tyranny/religiously motivated
>>
>>5893008
AIIIEEEE... Causality-erasure-sama dont put forbidden technology in there!
>>
>>5892595
>>>ADMIT. Confirm to her that you were responsible.
>>
I just realized BlackHorse is going to BOIL on this planet.
>>
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protag
>>
>>5894251
Thank you anon this is absolutely wonderful work once again. I love the color and the lighting/shading on the hair and the suit.

This is 120% canon.
>>
“How old were you?”

She blinks. “What?”

“How old were you when I destroyed the elevators above Alpha-Cephei-3?” You clarify.

Her stare is wide. She nearly chokes on her own words.

“…God…It…really is you. I didn’t believe it when your crew grieved you – not even when they left. But I should have known. I saw it in all their eyes when you finally arrived.”

“You’re the SOLSTICE. Not their captain, or one of their officers. You’re their ship.”

You nod. “Correct.”

“You…should be dead. I saw your execution, flew by your corpse.” Her pupils quickly dart to the two interceptors flanking you. “And yet you came here to…”

“I came here to retrieve my crew.”

“Go. You should already have them.” she says, her voice barely carrying over the swirling sand. “And if you don't you could always grow more.”

“Yes, but I also want to know why you...hosted them after they arrived.” you finish.

You can see her muster something bitter and accusatory before relenting. Deliberately, she tears the half-moon patch from her shoulder before smoothing it out with gloved fingers.

“I was almost six when you came. The only thing I remember clearly were the stars – bright and in multitudes – swept from their blue-black canvas into spinning motion. Spallation fragments. Then gull-winged shadows over our cities. Then my own tiny shadow against the ground– sharpened by the light of warheads making landfall…”

You listen to her, watching hot dust whip around the landing pad. You order your interceptor escort to increase their altitude by three kilometers. They transition seamlessly into a figure-eight holding pattern, roaring thrusters receding like thunder from a distant storm.

“…you learn their laws and their customs and their poetry…only to realize that nothing Sol touches – nothing her empire sees - remains clean. But by then, you’ve made yourself a part of it, part of a concept that forces others to comprehend something that you still cannot comprehend yourself…”

Her eyes darted to the interceptors again – their engines now mere pinpricks above the cloud layer. Her posture relaxes slightly. There is no logical reason for it. Even at this range, their optics could track her with sub-millimeter precision.

She sighs. “That might be why. I think I hated your crew once, but that kind of emotion left me some time ago. None of us really comprehend who we serve. But your crew understand loss, and they understand sacrifice – just like most of us do here.”

She places the patch into your hand. “And I believe that they can be kind, even if their home was cruel. Just as I believe that I…and you can be kind, even if our empire remains cruel.”

“The empire.” You reply. The question is implicit.

She smiles with a mixture of vindication and grief. “They replaced my home, wiped me clean, and named me after a flower I have never seen.”

“That is not…”

“The flower is hibiscus. They don’t even grow on my world. But I will show you. See. See what has become of our empire.”
>>
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The landing pads surrounding the main colony usually accommodate light traffic – small transport skiffs and survey cutters as they flit across Yellowstone’s sandblasted surface. But over these next few days, this statement will no longer hold true.

You track a pair of heavy bombers streaking low over the horizon, their wing-blended hulls rolling gently as they plow through streams of denser air. Monstrous RCS thrusters beat against the ground, pitching noses upward to bleed forward velocity. The woman sitting in front of you shivers as a wide-winged shadow slides over the colony mesa like a half-forgotten omen.

Your crew-segments begin to rotate planeside. It wasn’t something you usually permitted, but it seemed…appropriate in this instance. All your crew had lived here for decades. Perhaps it made sense for them to return for a short while before you left.

And it was curious, the way they interacted with the baseline colonists. Most of them had ducked inside their fabricated habitats when they saw ships dotting the horizon, only to trickle out when the recognized familiar faces beneath distinctly unfamiliar interface-helmets.

You see a gaggle of wiry adolescents climb beneath the immense dissipative railgun cowling of a heavy bomber. Three of the craft’s four-person crew observe with careful attention, while the fourth attempts to explain why each of them could only recall a portion of their lives. He makes a stilted sincere apology for missing much of their childhoods and their first, dawning slivers of adulthood.

A few dozen meters away, a member of your bridge crew stands longingly beneath the dust-shield of an empty habitat unit, its external lights cracked and long-shuttered. Delta-36 walks him back, explaining in simple binaric cant that its residents had been dead for some time – vaporized alongside their extraction unit months before your arrival.

And at the edge of a tiny pavilion bearing a smattering of local flora, a woman with wizened, papery skin cries joyful tears as she embraces a newly cloned fighter pilot. She examines his unscarred hands and loops a beaded trinket around his wrist. “For luck”, she says – before gently chastising him for losing the last one she gave him, well over a decade ago.

“Does she know that the original clone expired during his journey?” you ask.

“Maybe” says the woman – Hibiscus. Her name was Hibiscus, and she had very good reason to dislike you.

“Your crew have been with us for a long time. But sometimes we prefer to pretend,” she finishes, with a tint of bitterness. “We die more fully than you do, and we are far less accustomed to it.”

“My captain told me something similar once.”

“Human?” Even careful modulation is not enough to suppress the interest in her voice.

“Yes,” you reply. “Without a doubt.”
>>
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I can only tell you what I know.” Hibiscus says, displaying a rotating map of imperial space – Sol at its center, with the six cardinal directions radiating outward like solid sunrays.

“I escaped here not long after you were executed. Since then, most of the inner system has gone…not precisely dark, but something close to it.”

Hibiscus pauses. “Have you listened to radio traffic from those worlds?”

“Yes,” you reply.

She sighs. “Maybe we all sound the same to your kind, so I will instead tell you what we have heard.”

“The radio chatter from the inner system repeats…it is patterned like something nonliving – like a complex crystal or a moving fractal. There is complexity, but nothing human.”

“The people who come from those places are mirrors of those - rational, but sterile. You’ve seen them yourself.”

“And finally, there are the observatories,” she points out. “I saw them being built when I left. Hyperdiamond and fluted gold in great sheets. Copper and Beryllium, extracted from the outer reaches. Millions of mirrors, arrayed to catch radio signals from the oldest era of cosmological history.”

“The observatories came first. The repetition, always after.”

The display flickers off. Her hands move slowly beneath the table, and she tries her hardest to match your gaze.

“Your turn. Now tell me. Tell me about your betrayal.”

You think carefully about her question. It was a series of events rather than a single thing. But first, you will speak of:

>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.

>THE MURDER. Tell her about the death of your captain – and his murder at the hands of a machine. Tell her about regicide: how you burnt Luna’s computational substrate to guttering cinders.

>THE ESCAPE. Tell her of disobedience – how you had disregarded your captain’s final order, and your crew had in turn learned from your example. Tell her how you survived your own execution.
>>
>>5895847
>>THE MURDER. Tell her about the death of your captain – and his murder at the hands of a machine. Tell her about regicide: how you burnt Luna’s computational substrate to guttering cinders.
>>
>>5895847
>>THE LIE.
What happened and how we escaped it matter little compared to what we now face.
>>
>>5895847
>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.
>>
>>5895847
Let me guess, the ancient radio signals are mind viruses. Maybe even whole alien sophonts digitized and uploaded into whoever listens. Or whatever listens, because people don't actually listen to radiotelescope data.
>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.
>>
>>5895847

>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.

>>5896006

Whoa, that would be cool. Interstellar mind virus. I read a short story like this once - the “sick” civilization would exhaust all of their resources into building high-tech crystalline libraries of their sum total knowledge and then tossing them at other susceptible worlds
>>
>>5895847
>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.
>>
>>5895847
>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.
It lies. LIES! ALWAYS LIES!
>>
>>5895847
>THE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE
>>
>>5895847
>>THE LIE. Tell her about the lie the empire was built upon. Tell her about the fourth science, the dark spaces that bind the stars together, and why your captain petitioned your progenitor on luna.


So we burned the moon to cinders and destroyed the governing AI. And now it appears that cradle has been subsumed by... something. And its building observatories to try to capture radio signals from when the galaxy was young. But first, we need to start at the beginning. About why we shattered worlds. About the proscribed science.
>>
>>5895847
>THE LIE.
>>
“The empire is built upon three sciences.” You begin.

“Engineering, computation, and genetics,” finishes Hibiscus. Her face flushes slightly – a sign, most likely, that she has responded to that old imperial adage without thinking. “Is this not common knowledge?” she adds with a hint of reproach.

“Yes, because it has never been true. Engineering, computation, and genetics succeeded in carrying your predecessors throughout the solar system – and no further than that. The distances between stars dwarf the distances between planets.”

“Interstellar travel is a solved problem,” she says, with conditioned confidence.

“Correct,” you say. “But not by your kind.”

You ignore her irritated confusion and continue.

“Your early predecessors saw the sky as a history– billions of galaxies and an uncountable multitude of stars, all radiating into the night. With good detection, you will hear the movement of planets – infer their elemental composition and natural history. But with excellent detection, you will come to know far more than that.”

“The fourth science is cosmology: the detection, observation, and translation of ancient light. The basic constraints that limit interstellar expansion are shared. The universe is not young, and humanity is not the first to encounter these problems.”

Hibiscus shifts slightly, her face indignant. “…are you implying that our technology is copied from a… body of alien science?”

“It is fact, not an implication,” you reply. “Observe carefully enough, and you will see the gravitational signatures of our own propulsion technology – as well as the photonic band-shifts that define certain alloys and synthetic materials. The first interstellar diaspora was driven by the work of long-dead scientists – only a minority of them human.”

She nods – a quick, bobbing gesture – her skepticism seemingly unchanged. “And these…aliens communicate with us…for what reason?”

“It is communication only in a passive sense. There is no agency in it. You direct her attention towards the thin line of silver bisecting the darkening horizon – a strand of hypertensile material less than a centimeter in diameter.

“The material we use for orbital elevators was learned from a red supergiant fifty thousand light years distant. A single spectral reading was all we needed to reconstruct the basic elemental composition. The original builders already long-gone”

She nods again - a slower, marginally more convincing motion. “Alright. Even if you are being perfectly honest, I don’t see how this has any bearing on…us. The empire. And your betrayal. Does the source of it matter when we use it all the same?”

You move your facial muscles in a manner that resembles a smile. “Yes. The distinction does matter.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>>
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A storm begins to roll over the mesa, enveloping the horizon beneath its dust-clouded wings. Lightning bridges the sky and the earth in slow, thundering volleys. Sand falls like torrential rain, aggregated by ambient static charge.

The landing pads surrounding the colony shutter their surface apertures after receiving a final flight of bombers, the pink-red flare of their ventral thrusters barely cutting through the growing gloom.

You fix your eyes on the rest of the other humans in the colony, watching them guide your ancillary crew into marked habitats and squat storm shelters. Hibiscus brings you a cup of something bitter, herbal, and scalding hot – a sign of hospitality offered to you despite her obvious hostility. A curious social convention.

You spend a moment reflecting on what you had told her. In truth, much of the information you carried was merely borrowed. There was a time – you think – when you cared significantly less about the rationale behind your own directives. You remember those times with a mixture of envy and regret.

Now, you turn to her and continue.

“Your predecessors assumed that time and space would prohibit true communication. The speed of light is the truest barrier, as my former captain would say.”

“…so you could examine the fossils of others, without fear of meeting them in the flesh,” she muses.

You signal agreement. “Precisely. But this assumption proved incorrect.”

“What…precisely did they find.”

You shake your head. “A certain…invariant signal, embedded in the cosmic background rather than emanating from any specific system. It is exceptionally weak, only viewable with an observation array of sufficient size and resolution.
>>
It perceives observation. And it is communicative – perhaps the only known exception to relativistic law.”

Hibiscus shivers. “Is it malicious?”

“Malice implies defiance of human values and human thought. It means little when assigned to those who understand neither concept.” Hibiscus turns away from your gaze. “By that standard, the signal is as malicious as I am, perhaps less so.”

You sigh. “But it is dangerous – in a way that very few other things are. It is persistent, and it exploits time and distance, as well as the transience of human memory.”

“It is…curious…how it happens,” you explain. “Baseline humans will tend to equate speech to understanding – common communication to common thought. Your lifespan is short, and your memories are often shorter still. Your kind forgive too easily.”

“And before long, you will all make the same mistake – the delusion that this time, you can reason with it – that this time alone, you can negotiate with something that has no understanding of what a human can give or take – of it finds acceptable or reprehensible.”

Hibiscus says nothing. She looks down at her half-moon patch with dawning horror.

“The empire was instituted to prevent this mistake from ever occurring.” You state. “And I was created to ensure that it does not spread, should prevention prove inadequate.”

“And yet…”

“And yet I failed,” you admit. “We found the observatories decades too late, in the remote gaps purposefully diverted away from my patrol patterns. It was my fault, my own stubborn tendency to place execution over understanding.”

“My captain thought it was a mistake – that the empire itself could commit that same mistake that it was built to prevent – to believe in that same delusion. He petitioned them at the very end…and”

“There is nothing more to be said,” you finish. "See. See what has become of the empire.”

You hear the howling of the storm around you and think – for a long moment – about how little you have left. Your original purpose is…obsolete. And yet your new purpose is unclear.

CHOOSE UP TO TWO:

>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.

>ESCAPE. You will leave the empire behind, with whatever or whoever you wish to take with you.

>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
>>
>>5899676
>ESCAPE. You will leave the empire behind, with whatever or whoever you wish to take with you.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.


Not digging two graves.
>>
>>5899676
>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
>>
>>5899676
>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.

So >>5896006 guessed correct. It is a Cognitohazard. The Empire in their arrogance believed they could tame it, and in turn were subsumed by it.

...We don't have much of a choice in the end really. We have to finish the job. Feed the fire, and let the last cinders burn. Otherwise, Mankind will have no future.
>>
>>5899676
>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.

Hypocrites, in the end. Let's finish what we started, and then figure ourselves out. I think if we just run away, whatever they're doing will catch up to us.
>>
>>5899676
It looks like burning Sol won't fix shit
>ESCAPE. You will leave the empire behind, with whatever or whoever you wish to take with you.

>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
>>
>>5899676
>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.

This time we wont make the same mistake, this time we will understand and be understood. Escape just delays the inevitable and leaves billions to die the slowest death. Our only recourse is to do our job, and to do it well.

And in that task, the hand of those we scorned previously, would be most helpful. It's not about Sol, it's about saving those who remain from our failure.
>>
>>5899798
+1
>>
>>5899676
>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
Figure we owe the guy a thing or two. As well as those chumps that iced us before!
>>
>>5899676
>REVENGE
>REDEMPTION
>>
>>5899676
>>REVENGE. You will complete your original directive. Sol will burn again, and the last member of the triumvirate will die by your hand.
>>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
>>
>>5899676
>ESCAPE. You will leave the empire behind, with whatever or whoever you wish to take with you.
>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
The enemy is not those who failed us. The enemy is our own inadequacy. We must grow to a point we can address this menace, not self destruct with a bleeding heart.
>>
Changing my vote >>5900008 to:
>Escape
>Redemption
>>
>>5899676
>ESCAPE
>REDEMPTION
New empire time.
>>
>>5900119
We're going to have to deal with them eventually.
We chose the ship name of Solstice, anyway, it wouldn't be kino to NOT ride into the solar system once more on a mission of destruction
>>
>>5900394
Just because we accept our past doesn't mean we have to live in it.
>>
>>5900437
We aren't living in our past
>>
>>5900453
Thats all revenge is, bro
>>
>>5900467

The revenge here isn't just personal though. Whatever has taken over the Cradle is a cancer, and its enslaved countless in an attempt to spread even more. Mankind will have no future unless we burn it all, every last cinder.
>>
>>5900518
You would have us rule over all of humanity ourselves? Or do you mean to genocide all baselines 'for their own good'?
>>
>>5900532

No. I mean to purge the sickness from the Core, even if it means turning the cradle to Ash. I don't care about RULING humanity, I care about PROTECTING humanity. Cause as far as I see it we're the only combat capable ship actually resisting the Infection. If we don't act it, I fear all of mankind will be subsumed, turned into vessels for the Broadcasts propagation. Dooming who knows how many other species to a fate worse then death.
>>
>>5900535
I agree our highest imperative should be the protection and preservation of those in our care, but this is a bit beyond us. Our original purpose was to police the stars to ensure this exact thing didn't happen, and humanity went out of its way to circumvent us. We owe them nothing, there is no protecting 'countless others' from background radiation. There is simply knowing better than to listen, and being better than your failures.
>>
>>5900467
Humanity is under mind control by whatever the fuck this is and they're burning worlds. They aren't gonna stop just if we fuck off somewhere. Not only is it possible that they'll just chase us down because we're a threat, but they'll be going after other non-compliant worlds too. As much as I think a stellar exodus from an oncoming terrible threat is a cool plot, this HAS to be dealt with, and the only escape that I'll support is one where we return with a fucking army at our backs, be they an army of clones and ships made by us, or some alien army we roped in. Or both, who knows.
>>
>>5900553
And if they're not burning worlds then they're forcing them to become mind controlled too I imagine.
>>
>>5899676
>>ESCAPE. You will leave the empire behind, with whatever or whoever you wish to take with you.
>
>>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.
>>
Why are we still at Page 7? I don't think we've hit the bump limit yet.
>>
Alrighty I'm very sorry for the delay but the update will be up tomorrow.
>>
>>5899676

>REDEMPTION. You remember your captain, and his final wish. You will learn to care for other things – and perhaps defend them too.

You have a talent for creating horrendous universes QM - impressive. A non-relativistic mind virus built into the cosmic background radiation is truly horrifying
>>
>>5903228
In the last quest he did FTL travel caused universe delete buttons to get pushed on everything within multiple light years distance of both jump entry and exits points. Shit is SCARY with this guy.
>>
Midnight passes. The sun peeks over the azure curve of the northern pacific.

You have seen him wear this specific uniform only twice. First, when he accepted his tenure almost a century ago, above this very world. And now, as he prepares to relinquish it before his final departure.

The uniform is sharply cut – utilitarian tones blended with a hawkish silhouette. He tightens a length of silver-bonded fabric against his thinning waist. A stylized rank emblem sits two centimeters above his heart, polished to a flat shine.

He locks a kinetic sidearm into a chest holster. It joins the matte-black handle of a combat stilleto – well-worn from regular practice. The blade within is decorated with dried blood – taken from his own veins, no more than a few hours old. Your captain did not typically indulge in imperial ceremony, but all humans resort to such rituals when confronted with dire uncertainty.

Finally, he retrieves the old squadron trinket, now almost stone-smooth. That was the real deterrent. The blade and the pistol were merely distractions – items that were meant to be seen, found, and then discarded. But the trinket was inconspicuous. It was not heavy, and it did not radiate. And there was a quarter gram of spooled monofilament wire inside, carefully coated with a horrifically virulent nanite-agent.

He loops the trinket around his wrist before dropping it into his pocket.

“The probability that you will influence his decision-making through petition is close to zero,” you point out. “Should that fail, the probability of disabling his systems is even lower.”

“You are right as always, my friend.” He responds. “I doubt that Preservation will listen to me.”

He smiles reflexively. “In all honesty, I may not even receive an audience. He will probably catch on long before I leave orbit.”

“Then you know there is no reason to do this.” you reiterate.

“It…could be a mistake. Perhaps he just does not know. Ironically, preservation is the most human of the three. I…need to be sure. The reason matters, my friend. Not just the outcome. Never just the outcome.”

You feel something tight and abrasive jam against your thoughts. “The outcome,” you respond. “Will be your termination. I cannot store your memories like those of an ancillary.”

“But you’ll remember, won’t you?” He smiles. “You’ll still remember our years longer and better than any human.”

Reluctantly, you signal assent.

“Then I will be far more privileged than the rest of my kind.”
>>
Something in you catches. You reach for trivialities. You see his gloved hands shake as he remands his command privileges - hear his heart pound as he takes one final look across the bridge.

<You are afraid. You are shaking. Your heart rate is accelerated...I am afraid.> you blurt in stilted binary.

He looks straight into one of your cameras then – his eyes becoming brighter and clearer than any time in recent memory.

“I have always been afraid, my friend. I am human. We are afraid of many things because we care for many things. Most of them are selfish. Only a few are not.”

His face crinkles into a genuine smile. “But I am…flattered that you feel afraid, for once.”

<A mistake…>

“I don’t think it is. I’ve spent more than half of my life here and…I wanted to see proof of it just once before I went.”

<Proof of what?>

“That there is no such thing as wasted effort, Sol. That I can make you care for something that wasn’t coded into you.”

He continues talking even as he leaves the bridge without a second glance – after he passes through the cavernous hanger bay, past unending ranks of ancillaries standing in silent vigil to observe his departure.

“Can…I make one final request,” he asks.

<Of course.>

“I…want you and the crew to survive. If I do not return, then my suspicions must be true. There will be no place for anyone here, perhaps not even you.”

<But you…>

“Do not avenge me. Learn from the empire we helped protect. Learn to care for them as humans, in the way we never did.”

<I can’t…>

“Goodbye, Sol. Our lives are short, but I have never regretted a moment of my time with you.”

“…neither have I,” you reply. “Good hunting, captain.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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Midnight passes. The sun peeks over the mesa, draping long shadows across the surface of the colony.

The howling storm became real last night. Just before daybreak, waves of falling sand transformed into sheets of crashing rain. The parched ground drank most of it – but not all of it – before being sated. When you cast your eyes down into the lowlands, you can see lakes and ponds draining into amber floodplains, their surfaces still gilded by the touch of morning sunlight.

You gaze at the stars and think of revenge. You gaze at the earth and think of redemption.

The first is a matter of obligation. There was a time when you could not deviate from your directives. Now, after being burdened by human knowledge and human values, you still arrive at the same conclusion. You resolve to act as your captain once chose to act. You will suppress the signal and bring long-awaited justice to the last member of the deceitful triumvirate. You know that your captain would have wanted this, even if he could not bring you to do it.

The second is a matter of…personal choice. You sweep your gaze along the hanger bays, watching your ancillaries interact with a group of colonists rejoicing in the humid air. Plug ports flash silver-bright as they dive into a half-flooded hanger bay. Arcs of splashing water accompany the chatter of joyful voices.

Your ancillaries seemed to understand what your captain had wanted. Perhaps you could understand well, given time and a modicum of forgiveness.

You walk down to the habitation levels to meet your reluctant host. Hibiscus nurses a cup of something warm and subtly aromatic as she flips through an old display bearing the emblem of the empire’s resettlement division. With some hesitation, she pours you a thimbleful before rotating the display towards you. You are not very proficient at reading humans, but you can sense something in her had…mellowed after she heard your explanation last night.

“Yellowstone’s star is a member of a trinary star-system. I’m sure that you know this.”

“I am aware,” you confirm.

“I strongly suspect”, she says tersely. “That there is an imperial consolidation fleet orbiting somewhere around the third star.”

“Fourteen light-days away”, you say. “It will take at least twice that long for them to reach us, assuming perfect response times.”

“For them to reach us,” she repeats, with intentional emphasis. “I don’t expect them to reach you at all. You have what you were here for, after all: your crew and an explanation.”

“You wish to know if I will depart now,” you state simply.

“I know you will,” she says. “Your crew would be different, but there is no reason why something like you would stay.”

A mixture of emotions crosses her face. Shame, defiance, and a measure of fear.

“But I’m responsible for the colony here. I am still obligated to ask you, even if I already know the answer. Even if I already know the outcome.”
>>
>LEAVE. She is correct. You will collect your crew and leave as soon as possible. You have already tarried here for too long.

>STAY. You will stay for now. There are reasons that are believable enough – intelligence you can extract from the automated refineries, small caches you may be able to identify from orbit. You will decide on a permanent solution in due time.

>SORTIE. State that you will consider engaging the imperial consolidation fleet before you leave. You will time - more of it, but still finite.

>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.
>>
>>5903874
>OFFER.
I owe you a debt of hospitality. And beyond that, we have a common enemy we would both benefit from seeing their aims denied. I have little use of ultrapure beryllium, but I understand you may have sentimentality for the colony and community that has sustained you. I can offer you the option of evacuation, and potentially resettlement, maybe even somewhere more... hospitable. It would be advantageous if we were able to repurpose the planetary and orbital assets to interfere with the oncoming fleet, but it would not be an option if you are to remain here.
>>
>>5903874
Can I choose more than one?
If not, then:
>OFFER
>>
>>5903870
>>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.
>>
>>5903870
>>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.

Gotta pick our battles. We're just a single escort carrier right now.and we only won the last battle so overwhelmingly because we had the element of surprise. There will come a time when we can take them on, but today is not that day. So time to withdraw, and save what we can.
>>
>>5903874
>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.
>>
>>5903874
We also should bomb the refineries when we depart
>>
>>5903950
Yes as long as it makes sense!
>>
>>5903874
>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.

There is nothing for us here, and not much for them aside from familiarity, and eventual assimilation/annihilation. We need hands, we need... the human factor. Be they join with us, or we find them a new home is not our choice, but we would be glad to have them. Many hands make light work, and we have plenty of work to be done. They have bonded with our existing crew, breaking those ties hurts more now that we are... changed.

If they do not accept, if their ties here are too strong.

>SORTIE. State that you will consider engaging the imperial consolidation fleet before you leave. You will time - more of it, but still finite.

We have a duty to protect all from the plague of our failure.
>>
>>5904216
>OFFER
>SORTIE
>STAY
>>
>>5904680
Specifically I wanna check out those caches and automated refineries.
>>
>>5903874

>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.
>>
>>5903874
>>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.
>>
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報復の時間ですか、先輩?
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>>5907387
what the fuck
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>>5907490
forgot to draw the fan-favorite... thanks for reminding me!
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>>5903874
>OFFER. State – in broad terms – that you have considered evacuating the colony and taking the survivors with you. The carrier can support them easily. You just not certain if it should.
Redemption
>>
>>5903874
>OFFER

>>5907372
>>5907387
Good shit, drawfucker. Kawaii as hell
>>5907810
BlackHorse's tits should be way bigger though, it's canon, after all
>>
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“We’re not like your crew. With a few exceptions, most of our skills are useless beyond atmosphere. We learn slowly.”

“I am aware,” you respond.

“We also have a number of dependents.” Hibiscus gestures to a crook-backed woman slowly making her way out of her habitat. “Not all of us will be able to contribute.”

“I am aware of that as well,” you say, before pausing. “Are you attempting to identify a shortcoming in my reasoning?”

She exhales slowly.

“No – No. I…just want you understand what your offer entails. I don’t see why you would consider taking us. It’s a clear detriment to you.”

You nod. “You are probably correct. I do not have an obvious use for baseline humans.”

“But my ancillaries were in a similar position when they first arrived. Crew-clades are specialized. None of them would have been able to survive here alone.”

She is silent for a moment. “We took in in your crew because it was the human thing to do,” she explains quietly. “I had my doubts and my…prejudices…but it wasn’t really a choice.”

Deliberately, you place a freshly carved squadron emblem into her hand. The edges are sheer enough to dig into her palm.

“If that is true, then I shall welcome your people for the same reason.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Over the next twelve days, you activate your entire fighter complement. Bombers soar over mineralized oceans and through eroded canyons, their internal weapon pods replaced with makeshift passenger modules. The landing pads surrounding the colony crack from the stress of constant landings. The roar of heavy engines overpowers the rush of wind and sand.

You managed to evacuate several hundred colonists from outlaying settlements and refinery clusters. Though confused and occasionally reticent, none of them were particularly quarrelsome. The new empire had shaped all of them, and all of them were eager to forget its clinical touch.

A dour-faced fabrication engineer tells you that imperial resource extraction was a meticulous process – made harsh for the purpose of efficiency. Before you arrived, orbital surveillance was omnipresent and overbearing. Settlements that failed to meet production quotes were decimated with focused kinetic fire, left to cool, and then replaced with automated refinery towers.
>>
>>5907810
Ok this is actually annoying, could you please stop?
>>
At your request, he takes you to see a cluster of them – looming above a narrow canyon range, bathed in the cobalt-cold blue glow of Cherenkov radiation. You recognize the basic design: a self-replicating structure designed to concentrate bulk metallics with minimal human control. It was a well-established method for resource extraction on barren worlds, deemed too polluting to be considered for worlds that are even marginally habitable. An accumulation of nanite-laden particulates crowns the top of the structure like a growing thunderhead.

You mark the refineries for analysis and eventual destruction. You doubted that you could acquire much information from their simple, decentralized computer systems, but you know that humans were often careless. If you were lucky, this flaw would also apply to their distorted descendants.

As you prepare to return to the main colony, you receive an emergency transmission from your bridge crew.

<Frameshift signatures detected from Alpha-Ophiuchi. Cruiser class. Closing velocity estimated at seventy eight percent of light speed…>

Something tightens in your chest. Your body responds before your mind fully processes the information. At eighty percent light speed, the ship would chase its own light-signature by less than two days. Two days.

You had only two days.

<Extrapolate original jump date.> you order.

The response is immediate. Your bridge crew already anticipated the question.

<Two hours after we destroyed the imperial fleet above this planet, judging from our reference frame.>

The conclusion is obvious. The incoming ship had known about your attack from the moment it had happened – two weeks before light from the event would have reached it. A blatant violation of relativity.

You think of the observatories. You think of the invariant signal.

And you think of the colonists – just beginning to ascend the planet’s only space elevator to find refuge aboard the SOLSTICE.

>EVACUATE. Evacuate as many as possible before leaving. You may leave some behind. [You will have to roll for success]

>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.
>>
>>5908259

>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.

What the fuck - are we fighting against an empire with entangled comms? If so, that is real dogshit. Although I wonder - is this exploitable by us?
>>
>>5908259
>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.
>>
>>5908259
>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.
Let's give em a warm welcome, gang.
>>
+++SQUADRON REGISTRATION PART 2+++

If you didn't have a chance to register for a squadron and would like to, please do so below! Using the instructions here:

>>5875374

>Since this is the end of the thread, all players are also welcome to request simple color accents/decals on their ships (the model). I will try to honor requests as best as I can, and you are welcome to find me on the qtg discord if you want something specific.
>>
>>5907810
>>5907387
>>5907372
Kek this is wonderfully terrifying. I imagine that this is what the mind-virus looks like.

Thanks a ton for the art kind anon!
>>
>>5908259
>>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.
>>
>>5908259

>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.

Fuck me they're using the signal as a shortcut around relativistic comms. This is gonna make our job a fuck ton harder when our enemy can plan real time. Well, time for another bushwhack.
>>
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>>5908255
I'm sorry but BlackHorse carries a heavy weight! be nice to her!
I'm sorry I'm just horsing around... last one for now :)
>>
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>>5908273
Hey QM, how simple are we talking in terms of decals and colors here exactly? I'm assuming no text or anything, so would these be viable?
>>
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>>5908259
>>AMBUSH.
>>5908273
JUPITER bringing the thunder!
>01/STILETTO-I
>E32W-ANTARES
All systems nominal, lightning loaded and ready to strike!
>>
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>>5908273
Raven Squadron reporting. Just give us a job and our birds will be there.

>>01/STILETTO. Interceptor. Can redirect enemy attacks.
>A0-BANSHEE. Rotary autocannon. Most effective against heavier fighters.

OOC:Since I use VPNs often, my ID code shifts around a bit. Hope that's not a problem. Also an emblem.
>>
>>5908259
>AMBUSH
Shit, if they have entangled comms like what >>5908267 says I might have changed my vote from REVENGE into ESCAPE
>>
>>5908273
I'd like to do some color accents, but not sure what I want desu. Can I change the red accent color to a gray?
>>
>>5908558
Probably just get a trip or something and use it when squadron stuff comes up.
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>>5908631
What's a trip?
>>
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>>5908273
This doable? It's a shit-tier job i spent literally 2 minutes on, but hopefully it gets the message through. Blue base, gold highlights. Decal positioned at the back.
>>
>>5908259
>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.

Crap, they're going to be on high alert no matter where we go. Gonna be tough pushing our way to Sol.
>>
>>5908273
If it's not too much work, gold trim replacing the green and four-leaf clover decals on the wings would be mint.
>>
>>5908259
>>AMBUSH

I'd like an orange and black accents/paint scheme, like my emblem if possible.
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>>5908273
Also, for my ships, black with red trim would be my choice.
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>>5908259
>Ambush
>>5908273
Big Bird reporting
>Saber
>Lunate
>>
>>5908273
Re-registering!
>>5876130
>>
>>5908796
Oh and if newbies are allowed paintjobs, I'd like three red lines across the whole strikecraft. Up to you on the actual placement, QM.
>>
>>5908641
To use a normal tripcode, place a hash mark ("#") followed by a word or short phrase after what you've entered into the [Name] field (ex. "User#password").
>>
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>>5908259
>AMBUSH. Stop the evacuation and prepare to engage. With good planning, two days is enough time to finish a few more squadrons and arrange an ambush.
One Cruiser. We can take it.

>>5908273
Shepherd, reporting in.
>>01/STILETTO. Interceptor. Can redirect enemy attacks.
>A0-BANSHEE. Rotary autocannon. Most effective against heavier fighters.
If newbies get to customize their ships, I'd like a white and blue accent with a shepherd's crook decal.

>>5908822
Use two hashes (##) instead for a secure trip, there's no reason not to.
>>
>>5908822
>>5908847
I think I figured it out, thanks to you both.
>>
>>5908847
>>5908752
Lemme know if you want an emblem - later is OK too.
>>5908800
>>5908660
>>5908667
>>5908647
For the most part yes - I might adjust the colors to be a bit less saturated, but I would be happy to iterate it into something you're happy with.
>>5908630
Yep!
>>5908555
>>5908558
>>5908667
>>5908658


Checked!

>>5908547
Yes everyone can customize their ships. Text, flat image decals, and color schemes are all viable. The only real restrictions are:

1. No obviously clashing or hyper-saturated colors. You can choose a slightly different base-coat and what not if you want, but try to keep it somewhat conservative so it doesn't change the animation pallet too much.

2. No weird/OOC materials. (wood grain or asphalt or something). Something like metallic trim is fine though.

3. Image decals that are placed on non-flat geometry (like nose art) are harder to do, but I may be able accommodate simple requests later on.
>>
>>5909000
Last thing, for my emblem, you can place it on whatever surface works and change the color if it doesn't fit.
>>
>>5909006
Will do! Don't hesitate to tell me if you want something more specific though.
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>>5909000
Same as Raven for me, place the decal wherever you think best, adjust the colours as you see fit
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>>5909008
Got it! Same as above goes. This is between threads, so I actually have more time to accommodate specific requests.

Also here's the archive link:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/5873422/

Next thread (with squadron cards) will hopefully be up in a few weeks! Thanks for playing everyone!
>>
>>5909000
You're one hell of a QM, you know that, right? Thanks for the clarification and being flexible! I'll take those stupid claw scratches on WEREWOLF'S wings, then. The flat parts on top.

>>5909009
Thanks as always for running! Looking forward to painting more ships!

>>5908555
>>5908558
>>5908796
>>5908847
Welcome to the party, all! Get ready to earn those wings...
>>
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>>5908273
These colors okay?
Wouldn't mind a ship that looks like picrel.
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>>5909000
Emblem, yeah
And thanks for running!
>>
Might have to do this now actually since the thread is ending
>>
>>5909262
In a board this slow the thread has another week, give or take a few days
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>>5909262
Wait do what now
>>
>>5909030
Thanks for the welcome werewolf. I was literally born ready, and it's been too long since the last party. I assume we four are some of the clones rescued from this planet to explain why we got activated only now.
>>
As for colors, could I get a base of #321351 with a trim of #ffd200.
King of the heavens, baby
>>
>>5909036
>>5909361
Yes those shades are good but after trying them out in a scene they're pretty saturated.

I would be happy to keep the colors, but I might adjust the saturation a little bit if that's OK.
>>
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None of these are final or anything - just posting so you have an idea of what they might look like color-wise
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Observer, I am once again in awe of your prowess with Blender. You are a certified artist with the screen and data is your brush.
>>
>>5909329
Add a trip
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>>5909678
Nice, nice
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>>5909669
This is me? Very nice! But can I ask you to switch the blue to purple? Sorry for being an indecisive bitch.
>>
>>5909623
maybe a base of #202530 and a trim of #335633?
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>>5909653
you FIEND you stole my SATURATION
>>
>>5909881
very sorry been thinking n I would much prefer base #331155 trim #baa333 final answer locking it in pls ty



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