You raise your weapon high and glare down at the
shining heart of the beast. “Guess it’s not your day,
ol
’
buddy,” you say, then strike. The thin membrane shatters, then thick shards of
freezing water burst out into the void. You stumble backward, blinded by the
sparkling mist, then blast your jets and fly away from the area.
The effect on the massive beast is violent.
Everywhere you see clusters of tentacles shrivel and curl upon one another.
Large mounds unfold, strange blind heads with gaping mouths snap and bite
before they, too, succumb to death. An unhealthy brown hue spreads across the
flesh of the beast for several minutes. Finally, cracks spread, then chunks of
frozen skin shatter, tubes like wet noodles spring out, and all manner of
liquids and gases spray out.
Your helm computer leaps to life, beeping as it
identifies the elements as they spray and freeze in the vacuum: Oxygen, water,
hydrogen.
“Hell’s bells!” you shriek.
“Air,
liquid water, fuel!”
The beast was a living farm for the Invaders, a
growing supply depot, and you’ve just tapped its veins. You fly outward to your
net and quickly haul it back to the dying beast, desperate to refill your
supplies before they are lost to the vacuum. The spraying tubes dance around
wildly, slick in your hands.
In a few minutes your empty oxygen tanks, fuel
containers, and water jugs are full. Then the tubes sputter, cough, and run
dry. The skin of the beast hardens underfoot and it dies.
You gain
3 XP
for ruining a supply depot of
the Invaders. But best of all, you are now better equipped for your desperate mission
against the stalking Invader ship set on destroying your comrades.
Turn to section
420
.
The doctor pushes on you until your back is against
the wall. You cling to his wrists as the syringe hovers near your torso.
You must now compute an abstract number that will
determine the outcome of the battle. This number is your
Ground Combat (or 1
G Combat)
added to your
Strength
stat.
If this number is 3 or less, turn to section
246
.
If this number is 4 or more, turn to section
521
.
You and the Captain seem to draw your pieces
simultaneously. Time slows down and thickens in your veins as the fate of your
life hangs in the balance.
If you are using a
Shotgun
, and are trained
in
Weapon Proficiency: Ranged
with that weapon, turn immediately to
section
406
.
Otherwise, you must compute a number that will
determine the result of your gunfight. This number is your
Dexterity
stat. If you are trained in
Weapon Proficiency: Ranged
, and it is with
the weapon you are using, add 3 to this number. For every
3 Handgun bullets
you fire, add 1 to this number, or for every
2 Rifle bullets
you fire
add 1, or for every
Shotgun
shell
you fire add 1.
Be sure to erase the amount of ammunition that you
used.
If your number is 10 or more, turn to section
45
.
If your number is 9 or less, turn to section
345
.
You fire at the giant drill-bits on the
deconstructor’s head, knocking one loose and sending it spinning, destroying
some others; the ruined bits topple into the beast’s maw, grinding as it
digests itself. But the thing keeps rising, intent on tearing you to pieces.
The guard has even less luck than you, cursing as his bullets ricochet about.
The beast rises, rises - soon, it is nearly on your feet. You fumble with your
grappling line, desperate to escape from the remaining drills before they grind
you to pieces. Just as they are upon you, you see that they are - perhaps -
vulnerable where they join the beast’s head, jointed steel bits that connect to
the deconstructor’s gaping mouth. You swing
about,
ready to smash the drills at their base.
You must now compute a number that determines the
result of your combat. You must use a hand-to-hand weapon against the dangerous
drills; if you do not have
a
H-to-H weapon, you must
use the butt of the gun you are currently using. If you are using a
Mace
,
add 2 to the total; for
any other hand-to-hand weapon,
add 1. If you are
skilled in
Weapon Proficiency: Hand-to-Hand
, and it is with the type of
weapon you are using, add 2 to your total. Add your
Strength
and
Dexterity
to the total. Add your
Ground Combat (or 1 G Combat)
to the total.
Also, be sure to erase the amount of ammunition that
you used.
If the number is 6 or more, turn to section
468
.
If the number is 5 or less, turn to section
27
.
“All of your skills seem so worthless,” you say,
“that I would do the species a favor by ejecting you from the gene pool. Now,
go!”
The man looks dejected.
“Go on, I said!
Git
!”
Once the man leaves, one of the guards says, “You
know, man, you don’t have to be so mean when you get rid
o
’
someone. Can’t you just, like,
tell’m
to leave?”
“Perhaps I shall be kinder,” you say, darkly, “when
I ask
you
to leave.”
The guard snorts,
then
turns away from you.
Turn to section
537
.
You try to shake the feeling. Try to tough it out.
“Hey,” you say to no one in particular. “Why’d the chicken... cross the...
road.
” The joke seems disingenuous, false. No one wants to
be bothered.
“The chicken is dead,” says a voice. The voice is
honest. All is pointlessness.
“Wait, who -”
The unthinkable happens. Without warning, one window
of the ship shatters, blows outward, you feel the breath sucked out of you and
see boxes and gear fly
free,
you are suddenly cold,
cold all over. You crash into a steel-wall and your eyeballs roll around
loosely. A large box slams into the opening, sealing the vacuum off, but before
you come to a rest on the ground you see the metal just in front of your face
explode inward as something from the outside pierces it, then the vacuum sucks
against the ship again. Chaos before you, someone’s limbs flailing, objects
crashing against one another.
As you crash about the freezing maelstrom in the
ship, you lose
2 Blood
, though you may subtract your
Defense
rating from this amount if you happen to be wearing any Armor.
You manage to force your helm on just as ice
crystals form in your tear ducts and greasy hair. You are overcome with a
black, dark feeling that drowns out all humane concerns. Without thinking you
haul yourself towards an exit. Two more holes are blasted into the side of the
ship and you know that a sniper is attacking from a hideout on one of the
asteroids. As the vacuum churns within the
Narrenschiff
you clamber into a small depressurization chamber, lock the door behind you,
then kick open the exit door. Darkness lies before you and you blast your jets
on full throttle. All is silent, but the kick of the jet behind you is a roar
of freedom in your blood, a freedom from all ties as you leave behind the
fantasy world of soft things and enter into the dance of death with which you
have become familiar.
A sniper in the service of the Invaders waits for
you on one of the asteroids. Now, finally, you will face the true enemy. And
one of you will die.
(If you have died, then you may
Regenerate
by
turning to section
312
, or, if you want to go
further back, section
179
.
)
Turn to section
247
.
You think at first that you are frozen in fear, but
you feel your legs moving you toward them and hear the words coming out of your
mouth as something deep and powerful takes control of you. “Sir,” you say, to
their red-badge Commander, “I want to fight with you.”
The Commander
stops,
and
his infantry stop behind him. The Commander looks down at you with hard eyes,
breathing heavily through his thick mutton-chop facial hair. “Dogs carry papers
to prove their pedigree,” he says, his voice distant and strange. “Are you a
dog with all his papers in order?”
The men all seem to look through you as if you were
a gnat, and you know they consider whether crushing you would be worth the
effort.
If you wish to lie and say you left your papers
somewhere else, turn to section
37
.
If you wish to tell him you don’t need any papers,
turn to section
483
.
You draw your blade and rush towards one of the
deconstructor’s eyes.
You must now compute an abstract number that will
determine the outcome of the battle. This number is your
Ground Combat (or 1
G Combat)
added to your
Strength
stat. If you have the
Weapon
Proficiency: Hand-to-Hand
skill with a
Blade
, add 2 to this number.
If this number is 6 or less, turn to section
561
.
If this number is 7 or more, turn to section
522
.
“Might as well head toward that heat output,” you
say.
“That alright with you, Marcus?”
“Boy...” says Marcus, turning toward you. “I’ll give
you a heat output.”
“Quit actin’
like
bitches
,”
says Uther. “Come on.”
Everyone floats down the dark hallway, sheathing
hand-to-hand weapons and drawing 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 the nearest heat-generating source.
“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. A wide,
open doorway waits up ahead.
“There,” says Sybel, stopping. “Whatever’s producing
that heat is up ahead.”
“Don’t see anyone,” whispers Marcus, “but you know
those bastards is
there.”
“No cover in this
hallway,”
says Uther, “but there’s a door to the right. If we can get it open then we’ll
have some cover. Come on.”
If you are trained in
Stealth
, turn to
section
106
.
If you do not have this skill, turn to section
97
.
You plot a course as best you can through the
Asteroid Belt, but no matter how fast the
Narrenschiff
goes, to you the technology seems ancient, completely outdated. Since you have
plenty of fuel, you run the engine full-tilt all the time.
You decide to fly by two large asteroids called
Scylla and Charybdis. You note that while the two asteroids are named after
mythological monsters that gave some hero of legend a hard time, for you they
will be good omens, for they roughly mark the point at which you will be
two-thirds of the way through your journey, which will end at your reunion with
your brothers in the Legion.
Days pass. You must subtract
2 Foods
for
every person on the
Narrenschiff
, including
yourself. You may use your own supply of Food in your inventory, if you have any.
If you do not have enough to cover everyone, you must use up all possible Foods
and then lose
1 Blood
due to the harsh effects of slow starvation.