You never see the shield, but suddenly your jetpack
bucks and you feel an intense heat building in your suit. Your lance nearly
flies out of your hands. Someone mutters, “Steady, steady, don’t let go...” You
know that at any moment the ship can blast all of you with its massive laser
cannons.
You glance to the side as the bombers streak by
silently, unloading their payloads of missiles at the Invader ship. The shield
lights up as missiles slam into its surface, some exploding on impact, some
bouncing away harmlessly, others grinding through like buzz-saws these last
are, apparently, fitted with the same sort of field-generating charges as your
own weapon.
You see dozens of red flashes as the Invader ship
fires at the missiles. The sight is disorienting; your teeth rattle in your
skull; it feels as if your suit is cooking you alive.
Finally you burst free from the energy shield,
rocketing towards the ship as your suit quickly cools down. One fanatic whoops
loudly,
then
blasts ahead of you. Someone says, “We’re
gonna have to hack in
somewh
-” just as one missile
breaches the shield and slams into the Invader ship. There is a flash, a rush
of white mist, then a gaping hole highlighted by molten slag.
“We go in through there,” says Commander Uther.
“That’ll make our job easier.”
“Maybe it already hit the shield generator,” says
someone.
“Probably won’t be so lucky,” says Sybel, the
strange dream interpreter.
As the bombers streak away in a tight curve, you and
your comrades fly toward the hole in the black hull of the Invader ship.
Turn to section
282
.
The old man takes the pilot’s chair,
then
spends his sweet time adjusting it - whether to
heighten the dramatic tension or because he thinks it’s some kind of recliner
he’s going to take a nap in, you cannot tell. Many ships blast free from the
port, engines blazing hot. He flips the switch to release the electronic
moorings,
then
blasts off as dozens of other ships do
the same.
“Please, God,” you mumble loud enough for him to
hear, “please don’t let the old man have a heart attack just yet.”
You and
Octegenarius
peer
ahead. You see the black of the void, stars, the flare of ships, and you know
that the black Invader ship is out there somewhere, stalking. The old man’s
hands seem steady on the controls, while your own suit feels like a sauna in
the cramped space of the ship. Suddenly you see a flash of red, then a ship
near you whirls wildly, spraying gas, then another flash of hellfire and
another ship explodes in a spray of metal. Then another, and another, and as
the ships around you spread wildly the old man increases speed and directs
Narrenschiff
in a fit of wild loops.
Someone behind you brings up a series of video feeds
on the nearby monitors. You glance at them and see the dying station behind
you. It is blasted nearly all around, run through with holes, and covered in
clouds of debris. One monitor shows the black hull of the Invader ship floating
by serenely, ominously, the few remaining lights of the station casting a halo
around it. And on nearly every monitor you see ship after ship blasted,
scattered into pieces by laser fire.
Somehow, through equal parts skill and luck and not
dropping off to sleep, the old man brings the
Narrenschiff
far from the station and into the black folds of the cold of space. Only two or
three other ships managed to make it through the gauntlet, though you doubt
they have any place to run to. “Set a course here,” you say, comparing your own
navigational data with the ship’s various mapping systems.
The old man jerks awake suddenly, says, “I’m awake.
Who are you people?!”
You set a course that will draw you parallel with
the course of your Black Lance Legion ship. You will be able to make much
better time in this ship designed for long-distance travel, but you realize,
also, that the Invaders ship will most likely fly on a similar course.
Turn to section
34
.
You silently glide forward. The back of the guard’s
head looms before you. You are still and silent, the sound of your thundering
heart muffled under layers of ill intent. Just when you are upon him, he turns
and his eyes widen in terror.
Add together your
Strength
and
Dexterity
stats and your
Zero-G Combat
stat. If you are using
any hand-to-hand
weapon
, add 1 to this number.
If the total is 6 or more, turn to section
218
.
If the total is 5 or less, turn to section
137
.
You study the simple face of the homely woman for
days on end. You memorize every detail of the recorded image as it loops, over
and over. You declare the woman Queen of Survival. Nothing else seems to
matter. “Stay with me, my queen!” you mutter, drifting into insanity. “I live
for you! And when you deem fit, I die for you, my queenly matron!”
Then one day the battery on the
holophoto
winks out. The Queen of Survival dies and, blind with rage and anguish, you
cast the cruel woman and her empty promises into the void (be sure to erase
Her
from your inventory). You consider ending your own life.
Then, after a lot of soul searching, with tears dribbling off your face you
declare, “It’s better to have loved a lie and lost, than to have never wasted
my time in the first place.”
You drift on through the boredom and insanity of the
void.
If you have a
Framed
Photo
of a group
of laborers, turn to section
303
.
If you do not have this distracting item, turn to
section
92
.
Later that night, while the others sleep, you think
about the Invader ship stalking in the darkness. You wonder what sort of
monsters are inside of it, or if they are all that different from you. You
decide it would be best to just get some sleep.
If
Zelda
the
Lady
is with you,
turn to section
470
.
If she is not, turn to section
571
.
“Old man,” you say, voice thick with condescension,
“go talk about your old records and bands nobody’s heard of somewhere else. We
don’t need your kind here.”
“You young punk!
I was piloting ships before you were even born.”
“And you’re going to die before I do, too, so
congratulations.”
With that, the old man hobbles away.
Turn to section
371
.
“If it’s a labyrinth then let’s start walking. Might
as well go left,” you say.
“That alright with you, Marcus?”
“Boy,” says Marcus, turning toward you, “I’ll
labyrinth your ass so hard...”
“Quit actin’
like
bitches
,”
says Uther. “Come on.”
Everyone floats down the dark hallway, sheathing
their hand-to-hand weapons and unslinging their guns. Eventually you come to a
locked door. Marcus blasts the heavy bolts and you help Uther force the door
open while air bursts through rapidly. With quick-bursts from your jetpacks you
make it inside. You force your way through another doorway, where there is
light, gravity, and air. Everyone flips their visors up part-way; while you can
breathe a little easier, you can still see whatever information your helm
computer feeds you.
“Music off,” says Commander Uther. “Ears open. Walk
softly.”
The hallway is old, rusted in parts, covered in dust
and strange graffiti. You cannot help but associate it with a dungeon. You see
Marcus’s face as he glances at you quickly. His skin is very dark, almost
black, and his eyes are narrow and
slitted
,
snake-like.
You stalk down the hall in single file, Uther in
front on point with Sybel coming second reading his scanning machine. Marcus
brings up the rear with his large automatic rifle.
“Wonder where everyone is?” whispers Marcus.
“Probably drew inward during the hull breach,” says
Sybel. “Clustering around key points they want to defend.”
As
you pass various intersections Sybel points one way or the other, drawing you
closer to one of the two heat-generating sources.
“Can that thing pick up an Invader’s heat
signature?” you whisper.
“No,” says Sybel. “Not hot enough. This thing just
picks up the kind of heat given off by the nuclear reactor in the engine room,
and the shield generator itself.”
You stalk the long, dimly lit, macabre hallways. An
intercom turns on and some alien voice gives vent to guttural commands. Ahead,
a narrow hallway leads off to the right. But further ahead, the hall you are in
ends in a branch that goes off to the right and the left.
Sybel stops and whispers, “We’re close to something,
there’s a big heat signature to the left.”
“They’re going to have guards at that intersection,”
whispers Uther, so faintly that you can barely hear him. “Not much cover in
this hallway, either. I want someone to sneak up that little hall on the right
and see if you can maneuver around and hit whatever they’ve got up there from
the side, while the rest of us hit ’
em
head-on.”
If you are trained in
Stealth
,
and want to volunteer for the sneaky flank operation, turn to section
337
.
If you do not have this skill, or you do not want to
volunteer, turn to section
81
.
You focus the brunt of your will into your eyes,
boring them into the laborer’s skull. The laborer stares back, and beads of
sweat run down his face.
“Well now,” says the laborer, stalling for time.
“Shut up.” You glare at him as hard as you can down
the barrel of your gun. “Let the girl go.
Now.”
If your
Will
is 4 or more, turn to section
240
.
If your
Will
is 3 or less, turn to section
440
.
You take aim at the Invader’s head as you float
through the darkness. Then - he turns toward you, rifle leveled at your chest.
You must now compute a number that will determine
the outcome of your gun battle. This number is your
Dexterity
added to
your
Zero
G Combat
stat. If you are trained in
Stealth
,
add 5 to this number. If you are trained in
Weapon Proficiency: Ranged
,
and it is with the weapon you are using, add 3 to this number. If you are using
a
Shotgun
, add 1 to this number. For every
3 Handgun
bullets
you fire, add 1. For every
2 Rifle bullets
you fire, add 1. For every
Shotgun
shell
you fire, add 1.
The long rifle fires in a flash of light. You lose
18
Blood
, but you may subtract the number you calculated from this amount.
If you lose at least 1 Blood then you also lose
1 SD.
(If you have died, then you may
Regenerate
by
turning to section
312
, or, if you want to go further back, section
179.
)
If you survive, then the Invader’s body jerks
backward as his neckpiece and shoulder harness shatter violently, then oxygen
and red ice spews from the demolished suit. You tumble into the brittle wall,
then
rest in a bed of ash beside your fallen enemy.
You gain
2 XP
for killing the Invader sniper.
Be sure to erase the amount of ammunition that you used.
Turn to section
362
.
You stalk down the hallway. Your jetpack is an
incredible hindrance now, and you consider casting it aside. But the thought is
squashed immediately, as if some ingrained programming has enslaved you to the
device. When you stop to rest, you can almost hear the grinding of the
malicious deconstructors.
You come to a doorway at the end of the hall. You
brace yourself,
then
open it. What you see looks like
the doom of the world.
Turn to section
442
.
“I’ve got this crazy feeling, Padre,” you say,
aiming your gun at the priest, “that you’re the cause of this mess!”
Everyone stops and looks at you. Jaws drop open.
After a long pause, the priest shouts, “Then you’re
crazy! And I’m sick... and tired...
of dealing with crazy people!!!
”
The priest charges toward you, his bowie knife
thrust outward, hungry to drink the blood from your throat.