From: Cat-Gonk <catgonk@hotmail.meeh.caheeh.com> Subject: [PW!] [NC] Shipwrecked Date: Friday, July 23, 1999 2:06 AM >The star lane collapsed. Warp travel was far from perfected, even for >a millenia-old race as the Moluvians. His twin pairs of hands clasped >firmly to the guiderail, the Wind Preist offered up a prayer to the >Emperor before the Shattered Dreams was hurled into the chaos of >unprotected warp space, reality trailing in its wake. >------- >"Priest Jann! Are you alright?" >A Spiderette-mounted soldier helped the Wind Priest to his feet. His >helm was discarded, the atmosphere breatheable. >"Where are we?" >Blue grass. Scarlet skies (is this right?) It could have been Alkyr, >but for the chronograph on Theore's wrist. Seven million years into >the future. Thrown clear of the wreckage, Theore took a long, hard look at his surroundings. It wasn't Alkyr. Even in seven million years the Imperial Palace would not have worn down, and the radiation level was a little too low for his liking. "Has an Albatross been launched?" An Auspex was passed to him, detailing the planet. A scouting party was already on their way to intercept them, their arrival not unnoticed. Now on his feet, Theore began to assess the situation. He was, he was Malique-only knows how far away from the nearest Moluvian outpost, had only a skeleton crew and from the feedback the Alabatros was giving him, in very, very deep trouble. "What are our weapons like?" he bellowed. He had his brace of Orbdaggers, Wind Priest psionics and a sidearm, but the Shattered Dreams wasn't the Moluvius and its crew weren't Thundercorpsmen. The remainder of the surviving crew were organising themselves, salvaging what they could from the wreckage and hastily establishing a beachhead. "Five Thunderballs!" calls a voice from inside the ship. The Thunderball unleashed a searing arc of raw electricity, using their target's bodlily fluids as a weapon. "A Land Tank, and three combat Spiderettes!" "Sixty Azure Rifles!" Like the Azure Cannons, the Azure Rifle projected a blue beam of plasma capable of punching through body armour. "Two support platforms, and everyone has their own scimitar," said an orderly beside him. Theore's helm released with a hiss of superheated steam, revealing his avian countenance and shimmering white plumage. "We stand and fight. How long until we can get into orbit?" "At least two years," said the orderly. Theore's viewfinder brought up his name, Julian Charlesson. "Charlesson, you get everyone armed and ready. I'll take a look around." His helm was replaced. Vaulting into the air, two slits in the back of Theore's armour slid open, allowing his feathered wings to unfurl. "Emperor bless." "Emperor bless." TBC.... Cat-Gonk. ---------------------------- Do you believe in Goddish? Azure Heights Theorist Prime. http://www.geocities.com/~korelano/ Keeper of the Wigglytech. http://yoda.pagehub.com -GOT WIGGLY? Host of "Sunday Night with Cat-Gonk". http://members.xoom.com/pokezine/ "Let you not mistake your duty as I mistook my own. I came into this village like a bridgegroom to his beloved, bearing gifts of high religion; the very crowns of holy law I brought, and what I touched with my bright confidence , it died; and where I turned the eye of my great faith, blood flowed up. Beware, cleave to no faith were faith brings blood. It is mistaken law that leads you to sacrifice. Life, life is God's most precious gift; no principle, however glorious, may justify the taking of it." -Reverend Hale Arthur Miller's "The Crucible."