The Retreat

EXT. THE ORPHIC ORACLE - DAY Everything proceeds in silence. The Oracle is not the largest ship in any fleet. In fact, she's downright tiny compared to the bulk of the refueller that she's nuzzled up against, her sphincters dilated for easy access to her holds. Hydrogen and helium get pumped into bulging tanks above and rear. Men and women, like ants on a watermelon, clamber over her hull checking for micrometeorite damage or worse. The hull has definitely seen worse. The rear is open, pressed against a large umbilicus, sealed tight against vacuum. Inside the translucent extension, shadows shift, casting pantomime shadows against the near wall. INT. ORACLE LOADING BAY - CONTINUOUS Abruptly, it's a hammer of noise as machines clank, motors strain, and people shout across the clamour. HENRI LLOYD stands in a commanding position over the bay on a stack of supply crates, hands on hips, face a mask of conflicting emotions. He wears a bandage on his left sh...

After the storm, the flood. Thankfully for me, this is going to be a very graphics-light post. After the exciting events of the last mission, the failed patrol which ended in a heroic last stand followed by quite a bit of running away, there is some definite bookkeeping that needs to happen. We've lost three out of four crew and the entirety of the Spectacular Craptacular. The one survivor of the crew fled the field. The good tank Chicken Scratch was utterly disabled. Luckily the crew of the Chicken Scratch got away completely unharmed. Don't Drop That Baby engaged the enemy and retreated from the battlefield intact, despite having the least experience of anyone in the group. Two vehicles, most of one crew, and a failed mission. Plus the crew of the Chicken Scratch probably deserves to be statted up. Let's get on that. Replacing Crewmembers Please turn to page 26 in the hymnal. First up, we look to see if people who have bailed out of the disabled vehicle or are Out...

Or How in the World Are We Going to Get Out Of This One? The Recap When last we met our intrepid band of fools and miscreants, they were in a bit of a pickle. Despite having taken out two of the Hishen slaver force, two heavy tanks and two medium were bearing down on their position from the Northeast. Our boys were hunkered down behind a hill in the woods, making the best use of cover that they could, but that position is threatened by the approach of unknown forces from the north. Anything could happen and anything probably will, as 5150: Gaea's Worst continues! "Bloody fuck," muttered Henri as he lowered the light amplification goggles. "This is going to be murder." "That's great!" The TC applied boot-to-head for the driver. Donny made his usual puzzled-wounded-child noise. "Ow." " Our murder, you moron." Ace piped up from the rear deck. "Well, if those fuckin' greybacks want to eat some more coherent light we...