Asteroid Blues

Infinity

Heavy PanOcean Aggression Repelled by Corrigedor Tenacity.

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Nomads
Reyvah
VS PanOceania
Berithh

Believe What You See, Not What You Hear

When I was a girl I dreamed of covering the biggest stories, breaking the hottest news as it happened. I tried enrolling in Journalism at the university of Manaheim, but dropped out in my second semester, The structured routine that they were teaching there felt like indoctrination. News was supposed to be exciting! And I wasn't going to be a part of it if I spent all my time in a lecture hall crammed with blow-hards, try-hards, and go-hards.

One thing led to another and eventually I found myself wandering Novvy Bangcock. The Human Edge, they called it. Well the end of one thing is the beginning of something else. If anything - and I mean anything - newsworthy happened out here then I was going to be the one to bring the news to the rest of the Human Sphere.

Some might say I got more than I bargained for, but wouldn't you pay any price for the truth?

LIBERTY CARGO - The Dark Underbelly

Liberty Cargo. For some, this is just a shipping and receiving area, shared by the powers of the Human Sphere. A port like any other. For me, this is where the Asteroid Blues began.

Everyone wants to trade, and among the officially logged transactions and cargo movements was a black market of smuggled goods and high end tech. Silk. Guns. Contraband. Wetware. All making a stop here before being secretly sent off to the waiting buyers. All nameless, of course.

I was digging around the area, searching for any lead I could, circling my way to the Logistics Centre. I had a gut feeling that if I could get inside, I'd find some really juicy tales to tell.

It only took a moment for my plans to fall apart.

Escalation

"Get your shit together, we've got a situation here."

Those were the words I heard yelled at me from a nearby Nomad Alguacile as he ran past. My eyes followed him until they were forced to take in the larger scene. Hushed commands, flashing hand gestures. It may have been a trick of the light, but I think I saw some shadows actually moving. Then, behind me, I heard the distinct concrete crunching stomps of Tactical Armoured Gear. A Gecko Squadron barrelled past me, lumbering forward with its weapon raised.

Someone yelled "Get down!" just as the shots started firing. Booming HMG rounds echoed among the shipping crates and storage areas. I clutched my camera and ducked down being a pile of scattered crates as I saw an Alguacile standing atop a crate get riddled with bullets as he was shouldering his missle launcher.

An Alguacile pulled him his missile launcher to fire upon a PanO Jotum, but was a second too late.

After that it was a flurry of activity. More pavement crunching steps filled the air as two PanOcean TAGS opened fire on the Corregidor fighters, their gunshots echoing among the cargo. I leaned on crates I was hiding behind and readied my camera. As the Hyperpower's forces came into view I'd snap as many pictures as I could. This was the story I was looking for!

Sure, the Nomads were up to something, but they clearly weren't expecting to run into two heavily armoured TAGS, which begs the question: Who exactly were the Hexahedron expecting to show their face? YuJing aggression? Combined Army surprise attack?

This is the Human Edge. Relationships and identities are as slippery as a Shasvastii in these parts. Proxy operations hired out through mercenary companies could be anything from a wannabe ganster trying to make a name for themselves to a front for Haqqislam trying to tighten control of the Silk market. The possibilities are endless.

I didn't have much longer to assess the likelyhood of these scenaries, as a Seraph crunched around a corner, Spitfire unloading its volley right towards me. My camera clicked wildly and I screamed as the bullets filled the air around me. Some thudded into the crate I was hiding behind. Another whizzed past my ear. Then I felt two impacts as I was knocked to the ground. As my head made impact with the concrete I blacked out.

This PanO TAG opened fire on a journalist.

Awake

The next thing I was aware of were hands pressing against my side and a cool muted feeling of anesthesia and pain supressants spreading through my torso. My eyes opened to see a Nomad Daktari standing over me. "Get up" she cried, pulling me to my feet. My eyes took in the Liberty Cargo storage area.

I don't know how long I was out for, but the field had shift. I saw a Nomad Bandit sneaking up the right flank. He cursed loudly as he pressed some buttons on what looked like a hacking device before shooting some kind of glue gun at a target out of my sight. The Bandit took another step forward and then took several HMG rounds to his chest. He crumpled to the ground.

A Bandit Assault Hacker moves up the field. His Total Control hack was successful, but was stymied by an engineer bot's Electric Pulse.

The Gecko I had seen earlier bulled forwards into a hail of small arms fire. Shots ricocheted off its armoured exoskeleton. It punched the PanO trooper in the head with all its momentum behind it, crushing it against the wall. It quickly moved right back into the action, taking a hit from an explosive mine before launching a shot at one of the PanO TAGs. I heard a crackle of electricity as smoke began rising from the behind the structure in front of me. It smelled like an electrical fire.

A Nomad Gecko launches a Blitzen at a Jotum downfield, scoring a successful hit.

I turned to the Daktari. "Thank y-" I began to say before a PanO TAG leaped high into the air, raining down bullets from above right upon us. The Daktari, who had just risked her life to save mine, fell to the ground, bleeding. I yelped and fell to my knees, pressing my fingers against her vitals, checking for life signs. A pulse. Good.

I looked around me. The Nomads were pulling back. Despire their losses, they looked triumphant. Instict told me that was time for me to leave too. I grabbed the arm of the Daktari and slung her over my shoulder with a grunt. She was heavier than she looked. All my muscles strained as I stood up and began running.

I thought I had made it out when I felt a step behind me. I turned to face the sound, hoping it was a friendly Nomad face, but it was not. It was a PanO bolt, with a shotgun pointed right at my chest. The flash of the barrel as it unloaded at short range was blinding. I felt the shot strike my chest in multiple spots. But I did not fall. The light armour I had donned before leaving my home module that day deflected the shot.

There was no time to be thankful for small miracles as the Gecko streaked across the battle field, scooping me and the Daktari up into its mechanical arms. :Sorry, sister!" it's pilot said as we bounded away from Liberty Cargo "Gotta go!" His voice was grim, and I could tell he was angry about the lives that were lost today. For a second I wondered if it was worth the price. But then I remembered that no price was too high for the truth. I gave my camera a pat. I couldn't wait to share the truths it contained.

Debriefing

I was seated in a bar, not too crowded, but what crowd there was were distinctly of Corregidor. My camera had been taken from me.

"Do you know why you're here?"

The man across the table had a stern face. His eyes looked weary and his face was creased with lines of worry. The muscles in his arms looked strong and ropy. He looked like he had lived a life of labour.

I shook my head. "Not really. I didn't expect to be caught up in a firefight when I left the module today."

"You're here because of her," he said pointing to behind me. I turned to see the Daktari I had carried from Liberty Cargo limp into the bar. "When she was putting you back together as you bled out on the pavement back there, she spied your camera." He paused, lowered his eyes, and took a sip of alcohol. When he looked back up at me his eyes had hardened. "We want you to share everything you recorded."

I let out a laugh. "That's all? I was going to do that anyway."

The man lifted his left hand and gestured with one finger. Another man emerged from the crowd and took a seat. "This is Dhon. He's a producer for Arachne. He'll help get your video all over the sphere."

He stood up and pulled my camera out of a bag slung over his shoulder. He handed it to me. "I like the bit where they opened fire on an unarmed journalist. That should do nicely" The man left the table, leaving me and Dohn looking at each other.

He took the glass of the man who had left, tossing back what little alcohol remained. "Come on," he said, "We have some work to do."

Side Notes

Thanks to Berith for an awesome game!

Mission was Countermeasures.

Final score was 10-6 Nomads, but it was very close. I had 6 objectives to his 5. There were crucial rolls througout the game, which included a Seraph being possesed, crits cancelling each other at key moments, and a Alguacile Missile Launcher being blown away on the first Regular Order.

My journalist felt like a hero that game, being a part of scoring two objectives, so I wrote this from her perspective. Hope you like it!

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