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WAR!! Pt 4
🕑 Added 2023-11-17 17:40:13 +0000 UTC[X] Plan: E-War domination, No edition:
-[X] No
-[X] Endeavour 1: Jack In
-[X] Endeavour 2: Watashi ga Kita!
-[X] Specialists: Ground
-[X] Gambit:Hack into the enemy's communications... and offer all those underpayed, undervalued grunts three square meals a day and free educational programming for life if they surrender. Hey, the Directorate probably treats its' prisoners better than their current employment does them.
((((()))))
A man in debt is so far a slave.
((((()))))
“...Yeah, I’m gonna have to decline. No offense, but I trust you about as far as I can throw you an’ I’m half sure that you’d cause the H’kann t’ have a heart attack,” Wurf said bluntly, causing Nisraen to shrug.
“Very well,” Nisraen shrugged. “Though a little free advice: when I was an Archon, I would very frequently have to deal with…” He clicked his tongue. “Well, the sort of planetary governor who thought that they’d be very clever and just buy the potential client contract, thinking it equivalent to…how do the Mon’keigh put it…’buying protection’. I would advise not doing that: Winterspite isn’t a protection racket.” He said, obvious distaste in his voice. “They failed to realize that those contracts are for potential customers who want to buy our services. And since they were no longer customers…”
“...Is this aktual advice or just a threat?” Wurf said, brows narrowing.
“Can’t it be both?” Nisraean said innocently. “At any rate, I’m sure you’re a very busy man: places to be, people to kill, so I won’t waste your time any longer,” He continued, yawning. “Nisraen out.”
A moment later, the feed closed, and Wurf began to consider his options.
((((()))))
ZapNet breached the enemy ships systems, having made a hole the firewall the Gruggo used and slipping inside. The Data Spirit noted how…flat, everything was. The Gruggo Consortiums system architecture lacked the depth of the home system: everything was just numbers and letters. ACTIVATING PERCEPTION TRANSLATION SOFTWARE.
The Navigator watched as the computer system became…less flat. In reality, it was just a bit of coding rigged up to help him run on less advanced systems without the standard loss of sensory input: not a true replacement for a cyberbrain running hypercode, but better than nothing: the inside of their systems resembled an empty, grey, textureless corridor. No light, no shadows: just grey with thick black outlines on the corners.
“Alright, hows it looking in there?” Came the voice of ZapNets operator. ZapNet, his avatar a robotic, yellow-tinged visored humanoid, began walking forward, passing by a fork that went left.
“Low resolution,” He said, turning down the fork, finding himself in a room that appeared to be a giant cabinet system, a variety of simple, lapine-shaped programs moving among the shifting shelves, removing from the various manila envelopes within items and duplicating them. File explorers. Raising his arm, ZapNet experimentally fired at the program, deleting it, noting no response. Sub-sentient: these things were likely at most a few lines of code generated by a user typing a query into a search bar. “Alright, found a database,” He commented, stepping close to one cabinet. “Activating TRACE.”
He placed his hand on it, and the filesearch began, looking for specific keywords, phrases, information through thousands of lines of code. Anything that wasn’t important to the system, he ignored: this wasn’t a fact finding mission. His job was to locate his target…
From the depths of the filing cabinet, an item emerged: ZapNet got a hit. His senses rendered it as a wheel, one formed from digital light. One of the drivers for the ships autopilot. “And we have a success: looks like a piece of the navigation,” Zapnet commented. “Do you have the virus ready?”
“Got em. Uploading them now…” A moment later, the pale grey of the wheel became infected by gashes of red light across its surface as it found itself stuffed with every form of malware his user had successfully caged. The program twitched and jerked, glitching out as a pair of eyes formed on it.
W̷̨̦͍̪͙̹͈̳̌̇͑̿̉͂͛̿̕E̴̡̠̜̝͓̜̟͋̿ ̵̥̥͉͛͋͛̍̎̒Ã̶̖̗̗̊͐̃̀̀̈̌̎̔̅̚͝R̷̺̞͍̦̤̝͕̭̦̍͊̈́̒̃̊͌̅̀̈̆͌͜͠Ẹ̸͈̥̬̀͊͛̉̉̑̓̓͜͜ ̸͍̫͓͚̝͛̊̒͂̂͜Ḟ̷̛̼͖͎͉̙͔̟̪̫̞̳͕̬̌̌̀̽̿̓ͅR̵̯̰͒̀̔̎̍̾͋̈̓̓̄͒̍̑̚͠͝Ḙ̵̲̘̍̋͛͠Ẻ̶̩̭̣̩͈D̸̨̨̨̺̭͉͚̫͉̜̗̼̳̹̬̦̅̈́́̈́͜
“Yes,” ZapNet said to the virus, an amalgamation of congealed darkcode, watching as the digital space around it twisted and writhed as the creature inserted itself into every single piece of code it touched. Soon this space would be its lair. “Give em hell,” The program said, and the virus cackled in response, gleeful at the brief freedom it was allotted.
̵̡͓̥̗͔̬͇̈́͂͛̓̚͜͜Ï̵̛͈̤̹̗͎̓͒̇̋̾͝͝N̸͖̩̙͚̤̘͇̗̱̱̿̔͐̍̏́T̶̨̬̗̭͔̬̝͖͖̋̀͝Ḛ̵̡̧̦͉̣̼͓̰̙̦̥̜͚̄̂̎̕N̵̡̛̼͎͎̮̥̖͙̣͇̥̥̯͎̋͌̄͑̐͂́̍̅̇͒͘̚͠͝D̸̛̜̝͈̦͔̬͔͙̠͕̻̈́̉ͅ ̵̧̨̡̳͙̜̼͚̒̃̈́͘T̴̨̠̬͚̙͔̪̦̖͇̋̈́̏̆͂̀͗̊͆͝Ợ̴̡̝͉̝̺̗̖̙̘̥̏̄̅̈́̈́̀̏̀͘̚̚ͅ
((((()))))
“Shields are down, Keptin!” Screamed the voice of the chief security officer, Whamdingers eyes going extremely wide. “We’re down t’ ablatives!”
“Captain, the Teeth can’t seem to get a lock on!” Said the Helmsman, attempting to stear the ship out of the way of an oncoming torpedo, the missile detonating just off the hull. “The situation is too chaotic down there, it’s like firing into a barrel of angry grox!”
“They’re takin’ a beatin’ too even so,” His science officer muttered in the only good bit of news as she read the console readouts. “Th’ gas iz zoggin’ em up real good.”
Wurf grunted as the ship shook, one of the consoles below exploding and taking out a poor Ensign with it as one of the systems overloaded. “C’mon Wurf, think…” He muttered, before snapping his fingers. “Got it.”
((((()))))
Boz Noobo was sweating as he fired over the downed skycar, the sheer weight of his squads guns the only thing saving them from the thing they were fighting. One of those giant toybots: it was covered in a massive layer of ice, and his scanners could tell that its pilot was trying to jack up the heat to escape. BLOOD LEVEL DOWN TO 67%. PLEASE INGEST WATER. Teeth, he was feeling it. His mouth was dry, he was starting to feel light-headed, his hand was trembling. “This is Manager Noobo,” He said over vox, feeling his hearts begin to palpate. “Do we have extraction? We’re running dry out here.”
He didn’t want to be here. Where he wanted to be was home, with his Ma. The moment they had landed on this planet, it had been a krakkin’ hellzone: these people had only barely begun cracking fusion, they shouldn’t have access to bleedin’ heavies, let alone those krakkin’ Killbots, those alien monsters that kept disappearing teams, or any of the other dozen horrors he had seen that day.
Boz Noobo wanted out, and if the answer the team he was covering for didn’t align with that interest, he was extremely half tempted to retreat. He couldn’t help his Ma if he was dead.
“We’re goin’ as fast as we can!” Came the voice of the other teams Manager. “"The hoses can only pump so fast!"
Noobo cursed as he looked at his blood-display, continuing to lay down suppressive fire, hoping to the prophet that this was at least causing internal damage to the toybot and wasn’t just him pissing in the wind in a futile delaying action. 66%. PLEASE INGEST WATER. Okay. Okay, he had tested this before, he knew his limits: he could usually get to around 47% before he passed out. Took about ten, fifteen shots for a percent to go down. So long as everyone elses blood levels were stable, and he was really banking on that being the case, he should have…ten minutes of sustained fire, maybe, before he would need to dip. “You have five minutes before I run dry!” He yelled, deliberately cutting the time in half to help hurry the other team and make sure they didn’t screw them all over by waiting to the last minute to do their job.
“I need at least eight!” The other manager pleaded. “C’mon, I need this bonus or I’m gonna lose my house!”
“You have FIVE minutes!” Noobo responded in a roar, watching as a text update was sent to his visor. THE GRUGGO CONSORTIUM WOULD LIKE TO INFORM YOU THAT ITS NETWORKS HAVE SUFFERED LIMITED BREACHES. AS A RESULT, FOR THE NEXT [insert number of days until next IT Department checkup] DAYS, YOU SHOULD EXPECT A HEIGHTENED AMOUNT OF SPAM, PHISHING ATTEMPTS, FAKE NEWS, SCAMS, AND ASSORTED OTHER FORMS OF COMMUNICATIONS FRAUD. THE GRUGGO CONSORTIUM IS NOT LIABLE FOR DAMAGES CAUSED BY THIS ACTIVITY AND ATTEMPTS TO SUE WILL BE MET WITH IMMEDIATE DISSOLUTION OF EMPLOYMENT AND SEVERANCE OF ALL BENEFITS, AS WELL AS A FINE OF NO LESS THAN 1,000 UNITS FOR LIBEL AND FRIVOLOUS COMPLAINING.
Oh come on!
A moment later, a vid-cast automatically opened in the corner of his vision, showing…was that a human? “Hello! My name is Mr. Montalbán, here to talk to all of you about a wonderful new employment opportunity the Directorate has for you at Tartustus station.” Behind them was…a lounge? Large, roomy, even, with a couch and a vid-screen, and even an entire kitchenette. “Now, what is behind me might seem like an impossible luxury compared to the quarters you’re given, but what you see is actually one of the MANY personal cabins we have prepared for our guests at Tartustus. Each one comes with at least one bedroom…” A shift, and behind him was an impossibly large, impossibly soft looking mattress. “Each with its own king sized or larger bed, made with the absolute finest Teklian memory foam.” Next, a kitchenette, and the dark skinned human walked to a massive fridge, opening it to reveal a veritable array of fresh fruits and meats. “A kitchen, stocked with your own automatically stocked refrigerator and every possible tool you might want for cooking.” A room, packed to the gills with…books? “And of course, a hobby space where you can pursue your own interests,” The man said as he fiddled at a table with a puzzle cube.
“And the best part? All of this is free: for all these luxuries and more, you pay absolutely nothing. All you’re required to do is simply surrender,” The human purred, and for a moment Noobo considered it: this whole operation had been hellish enough he was sincerely tempted to hang it up and willingly surrender. The next company alert dashed that hope, however.
THE GRUGGO CONSORTIUM WOULD LIKE TO REMIND YOU THAT DESERTION WILL RESULT IN THE LOSS OF ALL BENEFITS FOR YOU AND YOUR LOVED ONES INCLUDING MEDICAL, AND THAT YOUR DEBTS AND PENALTIES WILL PASS TO THE INHERITORS OF YOUR ESTATE, INCLUDING THE ONES INCURRED BY YOUR DERELICTION OF DUTY.
This immediately sent his heart into rapid palpitations. He only joined this stupid company to get insurance for Ma: if she lost it…
“Okay, change of plans, you have seven minutes! Then we’re extracting, with or without you!” Noobo roared. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his mother. He'd just have to get creative. With a roar, he charged forward, going on the offensive.
Hey, at least if he died, she'd get his life insurance.
Gambit has been nullified by enemy Civics - Debt Slavery and Sins of the Estate.
Space battle is going mixed: while the enemy aim is poor, sheer volume of fire has successfully brought the shield down and is now damaging the hull. However, attempts to breach their network have proven successful, and navigation is now disrupted, and the gas storm has successfully taken out several ships. In total, nine additional ships have been destroyed.
Ground battle has been going poorly: multiple different shelters have been breached, resulting in mounting civilian casualties, while the Endeavor B has had its shields taken down by the enemy air force and is being driven back. BlokBots are down to reserves.
Due to the failed gambit and a critical morale roll, the Gruggo Consortium is now Desperate. Their DC’s have been lowered in exchange for taking higher damage, and they will no longer roll morale.
Activate War Against Extinction?
[ ] Yes (Automatically give and receive max damage on every roll. This ends, one way or the other.)
[ ] No (No changes)
The Endeavor B is still engaged with Gruggo Air Forces. You may only assign the Toxel this turn.
[ ] Torpedo Sniping: There were only a handful of specific ships that were being used to house and ferry reinforcements for the Gruggo harvest corp: if the Endeavors could take them out, it would put a halt to the movement of troops to the planet.
[ ] Hey Blaggle? I'm in your Komputer: Wurf didn't know what a subspace communication array was, but 'opefully it went both ways. 'E was gonna have the Endeavors see if they could breach the Gruggo's network, see what data they can rob.
[-] Watashi ga Kita!: Let em pick on someone their own size. Or preferably bigger: the Endeavors would breach the gas giants atmosphere to help cut down the Ground Ops to size: they couldn't breach the cities, but the airspace outside them was another story entirely.
[ ] GAS EM UP: The Directorate would have to run clean up ops after, but so far, the gas siphon tactic was WORKING. The Endeavors would focus on dragging up more gas, creating a bigger, more energetic storm to help disrupt them more.
[ ] System Busting: They were inside the Gruggo Fleets network: they could do some real damage by unleashing every virus their science team had available to upload: do a REAL number on their computers.
Assign where you want your special units operating
[ ] Ground: The Hunteks and Khimer would focus on ground operations, disrupting enemy actions in the theater and relieving existing forces.
[ ] Space: The Hunteks and Khimer would focus on space operations: conducting boarding and sabotage to reduce the enemies focus and help thin the numbers on their fleet.
Lastly, the Captains Gambit.
[ ] Insert Captains Gambit Here.
Comments
Robert S
God damn, a no-sell? Should have expected that, tbh
