EVENT ★ COWBOYS VS. ALIENS

[futurologists]

STATE OF THE PLANET Efforts in convincing the Qorral to stop drilling have been tentatively successful. Longterm solutions have been brought to them and, perhaps most importantly for the immediate, the fracking fields have been destroyed. The entire field has collapsed in on itself, taking mining equipment with it and creating a barren wasteland. In effect, the Qorral can no longer drill for argecite here, which means they will be leaving earlier than expected now that there is no use for the mining colony. It also means that the planet has been saved from being hollowed out completely. On the other hand, attempts at dealing with the Deemers have been a little shaky. By now, it's known that Miz Poppy is host to the Mother, the queen of this Taraxa hive. She remains elusive, slipping through the fingers of any who manage to find or capture her. Meanwhile, the infested Qorral have been dealt with in many ways: some opting for wholesale slaughter, some hoping to extract the Taraxa in the field, and some sending both extracted Taraxa and infested hosts back to Oska to be examined. As varied as the Deemer solutions have been, they have all resulted in the Deemer population being decimated. The numbers have dwindled as their camps are hunted down by ALASTAIR recruits, and attacks on the town of Perdition's Rest halt. But the Mother is still out there and free, and that's a problem . . . THE INVASION (DAY 1) In the morning, the ships come. Visible from the ground are massive spaceships in the upper atmosphere, gently drifting clouds sometimes blocking them from view. The Qorral don't recognize the ships; they're neither from their homeworld nor from any species they know, friendly or otherwise. For a few hours, the ships just hang in space like looming, silent buzzards, waiting. And then -- sparkling, metal objects start falling to the planet. It's difficult to tell what they are, as their scale is minuscule compared to the gigantic warships above, and their descent is strangely beautiful. But as the objects come closer to the surface, the details become clear: individual spacecraft. They're gleaming in gold and white metal, a triangle sigil painted on the sides, and cannons mounted on the bottom. These are Zymandis fighter craft. And they are not here to make nice. The fighter craft swoop down close and send a barrage of lasers down on Perdition's Rest, causing the local Qorral to scatter. But their fear doesn't last long: many immediately take up arms to fire back at the ships when they're low enough, including Sheriff Holladay, who shouts commands to anyone who will listen, Qorral and ALASTAIR alike: take cover, give 'em hell, and for sun's sake, don't be a hero. (Those who have been officially deputized may access the sheriff's armory, which includes all sorts of fun toys of the shooty variety.) But some Qorral have something else in mind. A small pack of locals rides out to the farm of Amos Zephyr -- and if you're suspicious enough to follow, it'll pay off. Beneath Zephyr's farm is a hidden defense platform: earth slowly moves aside as a metal platform raises up, home to mounted anti-aircraft cannons and fighter craft of their own. The Qorral fighter craft are intuitively designed, and the Qorral will also quickly give any curious ALASTAIR recruit a run-down on how to operate them. They're short-handed since so many of their number joined the Deemers, so they're very eager to allow anyone to try their hand at flying the two-man ships, which have their own mounted cannons and, of course, escape parachutes. The fighter craft are not meant for high altitudes, though, so your dreams of space travel will have to wait for another time. Those who do not wish to take flight and aren't comfortable with projectile weapons may find luck searching the desert for prey: namely, Taraxa agents attempting to flee in Zymandis escape pods. It seems as though the fighter craft are a distraction from the real goal of Zymandis helping its agents flee the planet. The Zymandis agents who are not Taraxa are variously humanoid, all equipped with laser weapons (spears, rifles, whips) that they will not hesitate to use against any who interrupt their attempts at escape. For those who aren't battle inclined, there are civilians who need to be ushered to safety, and quick repairs to weapons, equipment, horses, or even the Qorral fighter craft will be needed. This fight is going to be a long one. THE AFTERMATH (DAY 2) It's peaceful now. The Zymandis warships have fled into space with the surviving Taraxa agents in tow, the Mother presumably among them. The combined efforts of team Audentes and the Perdition's Rest colonists have successfully staved off the attack. The destruction wrought by Zymandis (and, perhaps, by overeager recruits themselves) is visible across the planet: deep fissures and scars from the laser cannons, fighter craft wreckage from both sides, burned buildings and trees, perhaps a fire still raging in the scrub grass somewhere. The Qorral aren't quite sure what that was all about, but they're more concerned with ALASTAIR's efforts in helping than in pointing fingers. Q-65 is no longer a suitable home, so the locals begin to pack up in preparation for the arrival of their homeworld's ships in the next few days. An old man puts his chess pieces away; a little girl clutches her robot pony doll, unwilling to put it in her suitcase; the stable owner and the blacksmith stand close together and talk in hushed, affectionate tones. Sheriff Holladay lets her deputies know they've served the colony well. It's bittersweet, but the Qorral always knew this settlement was never permanent. The mission complete, Audentes should expect to arrive back at Oska shortly. Use the time to say goodbye and finish up your business. Or, if you'd like, drink some of the booze that someone just found in the cellar beneath the burned-out saloon. It doesn't keep during interstellar travel, and no one will begrudge you a little celebration. OOC NOTES This log wraps up the Perdition's Rest mission! The log will last two IC days, after which characters will immediately return to Oska via dimensional rift (on 21 December in OOC time). Mission epilogue details will go up at a later date, but for now, Audentes can rest easy knowing that the mission has been a success. We will be posting an OOC post-mission assessment on 14 December so we can discuss how the mission went and talk about the state of the game in general. There is a new bounty on the Oska Bounty Board! Perdition's Rest bounties remain open until 21 December, at which point you will no longer be able to turn them in. You can also request bounty missions at any time. Please direct all questions pertaining to the mission to the dossier page to keep questions and responses in one place for easy player reference. General game questions should be directed to the FAQ. To submit a player plot or future mission idea, please go to the Suggestions post.

Comments

[respired]

[ Koltira glances at Urahara as he raises Byfrost high. He doesn't actually swing the sword--in fact, he's returning the tremendous thing to his back. Dark energy swirls around it, nevertheless, and the blade pulses with malevolence as Koltira extends his hand towards the trapped Deemers. His chains shatter just as he curls his fingers into a fist. The Deemers, prepared to make a break for it, suddenly find themselves lifted by swirling, shadowy tendrils. This miasma wraps around their throats, a choking, magical hand that crushes the life from their bodies.

A few seconds later, and the lot of them fall limp. ]

That is cold comfort, stranger.

[predomination]

Perhaps. [he snaps the fan shut again.] I'm not here to judge what people will or won't do. [he doesn't say can't- can't isn't the kind of response people can give in this situation.] And I wouldn't be in a position to either way. Sometimes turning the other way and allowing someone else to perform a task you can't find it in your heart to complete is enough of a mercy. You, at least, get the option of saying the blood isn't on your hands.

[he drops his gaze, chuckling.] Because that is something people here are deeply concerned about. I didn't believe for a second you would be one of them, but it's been a trying few months.

[because Urahara might not know Koltira personally, but he's been a topic bandied back and forth throughout this mission. it's a bit rude to make presumptions, and he'll apologize for it in time, but... well, he can understand, just a bit, the hesitation.]

[respired]

[ He scowls as he turns away from the corpses. ]

There's always blood on my hands.

[ Killing them or not killing them wouldn't have changed that. In the end, they're just drops in the ocean.

He glances at Urahara, frowning. Didn't believe for a second. He well knows the chatter around him, particularly over the last few months. But though undeath torched his memory, he's fairly sure he's had little experience with this particular recruit. ]

Tell me your name.

[predomination]

Mm? [and then he becomes the very picture of embarrassed humility, as if he didn't know he was inserting himself into someone's business with just some base knowledge gleaned from local gossip.] Oh, of course. Here I am just chatting away without a proper introduction. [he stands up so he can give Koltira a proper (and a bit flamboyant) bow.] Urahara Kisuke. We've spoken a bit, but never in person.

[respired]

[ Have they?

(They have.)

Koltira's eyebrows furrow as he tries to remember. Urahara's voice is familiar -- ah. Recently. He has it now, or some thin facsimile of it. The person concerned about the effects of his resurrection power. ]

Oh. The priest.

[ koltira he is not a priest ]

[predomination]

[he looks stunned for a half-breath of pause and then bursts out laughing, which, for once, is not a deliberate choice to offset whatever he's about to say, but an involuntary action. a priest? the religions of the world weep at the thought.]

I'm afraid you have me pegged a bit wrong, Koltira-san. I'm certainly no priest.

[respired]

[ to be fair, azerothian priests can be pretty out there ... ]

You were the one interested in balance.

[ priest's work! ]

[predomination]

[he rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully.] So I was. Well, that's a fair point, and I suppose I do concern myself with spiritual matters more than the average shopkeeper should, but it's more of a personal concern than a religious one, if that makes any sense.

[no, Urahara. no, it doesn't.]

[respired]

[ nope ]

What do you mean?

[predomination]

[a bit more seriously:] As I told Hawkeye-san, where I'm from some people have the ability to sense spirits. It makes us in tune with things like that, so if something were to be thrown off, I wouldn't be able to ignore it.

[respired]

[ That's slightly more illuminating. ]

I see. My people have always been sensitive to such things.

[ Though, for Koltira, spirits and related phenomena all fall under the general umbrella of 'magic' -- forces which affect elves more deeply than other races, and with which they're highly attuned.

Being dead himself helps, too. ]

[predomination]

[this is one of those moments where it occurs to Urahara that he can probably get a lot more out of this if he was willing to openly admit what he was. Koltira isn't exactly able to hide, and Urahara can, and that gives him an unfair advantage anyway- not that he needs an advantage. it's just... well, being a Shinigami is a lot like being a Black Dog to some people. just knowing it's around makes people uncomfortably aware of their own mortality.

and he doesn't like the idea of people being uncomfortable around him beyond what he personally does to make them uncomfortable. there's a difference.

he thinks about it, but decides against it. Koltira's from a vastly different culture, so even if he did explain it, it still wouldn't make much of a significant difference.]

And the Light must be very good at maintaining order.

[respired]

[ He barks out a laugh. Short, sharp, bitter. ]

Hardly so. Many do not even recognize it as a divine force, including some who rely on it for their spellwork.

[ He lifts his hand, and shadows coalesce it. ]

I cannot summon it myself. Holy power is anathema to the dead. But with the Light, there is shadow -- and that remains.

[ Balance. ]

[predomination]

And I'm sure they remark upon the shadow as being something dark and tainted, don't they? I've never believed it to be as simple as all that.

[the worlds he's discovering from exposure to the other Audentes make him glad of the one he comes from. Soul Society has its idiosyncrasies, but nothing in it is altogether good or evil- it's the people who drive the majority of the power there that make it so, and the Soul King is created to be impartial.] I may be being too forward, however, speaking of things I only have a passing knowledge of. Where I'm from, things are very different.

[he turns his attention to the horizon.] But that's the truth with all of us, isn't it? And the very point I made by coming out here today, rather than staying to defend the town.

[respired]

[ He curls his fingers, and the shadows dissipate. ]

Opinions differ. I know that I am tainted--but more than shadows bind my body to this world.

[ He shrugs. Whatever he is, it's certainly corrupt. An aberration. Yet he persists, anyway, because the alternative is worse. ]

So it is. There is much in other worlds that feels beyond my grasp. But the same can be said for my own Azeroth, also. I can only try to do what I believe is right, regardless.

[ He glances at the now inert bodies of the Taraxa, then back at Urahara. ]

I assume it is the same with you.

[predomination]

[Urahara folds his hands behind his back, while the tapered end of Benihime's elegant blade drags the dusty ground, gouging a hole where he leans slightly against her. the urge to lie and deflect hangs on the tip of his tongue, even though it's pointless (he's barely even hiding a sword behind his back), and just for the sake of being frustrating than any true act of deception. Oh, me? I'm just a humble candystore owner. What do I know about these sorts of moral quandaries?

but he doesn't, because this mission has taken its toll. he'll be back to being obfuscating and frustrating tomorrow. for now, it's as close to honest as he can get.]

It is. [and then, a bit quieter] Regardless of whether or not anyone follows me.

[respired]

[ Well, the presence of the sword alone would suggest Urahara is something other than just a simple shopkeeper, but Koltira isn't one to pry into another person's business--and little enough fazes him even if he were.

As it stands, he just nods. ]

That is all I would expect of anyone.

[ He looks back over the broad expanse of scrublands, and then behind him, towards the town. This battle isn't near finished yet. Time to get back to it, he thinks. ]