Talon Fannel
04-03-2005, 01:04 PM
Well, they DO say third time's the charm, so yeah... I'll give this thing one last try before burying it.
-- Sargasso Space Zone, Lylat System --
Following Oikonny’s rebellion overshadowing the forested world of Fortuna, and the Aparoid invasion following soon after, the Cornerian government has kept the asteroid-filled area known as Sargasso under close surveillance. In the years since the Star Fox Team’s assault on the region, the gang of criminals once related to the notorious Wolf O’Donnell has scattered, and what was once a place of refuge for galactic scoundrels has become little more than a barren field of debris. In the recent months of relative inactivity, the Cornerian Defense Force has become somewhat relaxed, their patrols slowly becoming less and less frequent, their once watchful eyes slowly glazing over as they adjust to the now tedious system…
But they fail to realize just what darkness lurks, waiting for this day when it’s foe becomes unguarded…
Nothing. Just like it had been for the past week, there was nothing to see but the copper-colored rocks floating against the black backdrop of space, stars twinkling faintly in the distance. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but these blasted asteroids; and not a sound to be heard, save the constant thrumming of the Cornerian vessel’s engines.
The cruiser’s interior wasn’t any more interesting than the floating wasteland through which it drifted. There was the occasional clatter of a keyboard, a feigned cough from one of the surveillance officers on deck, or perhaps the slurping of coffee across the room; but none of it amounted to much of anything, it was, after all, just another day of the same in Sargasso.
The canine figure manning one of countless sensor array, a mutt by the looks of him, let out a long and frustrated sigh, his fur-covered fingers absentmindedly pecking a few choice keys as he began what must have been his millionth scanning routine since his deployment. He wondered for a moment, just when his shift would be over, and he could return to the one thing that seemed to pass any time in the asteroid field: sleep.
His lulling train of thought was broken as a thin strip of light swept over one of the many windows opened on the computer monitor resting before him, and the Cornerian dog rested his head against his hand, elbow propped on his desk as he gave a quick roll of the eyes, simply wishing for the scanners to tell him what he already knew: that they were alone. Aside from the countless chunks of rock floating about outside, and the thinning cadre of Cornerian cruisers skimming along Sargasso, they were completely alone, and they would always be as such. Nobody would waste their time coming out to a giant floating pile of rocks like this place. Nobody. Ever.
The screen let out a monotonous beep as the scans finished one cycle, then another, and another, each time finding nothing but the asteroids that had hung along the Sargasso since the dawn of time. Another cycle… another… another. Nothing. Just like he had known since his first day here. There was absolutely nobody he-.
A red light flared on the monitoring station, the computer releasing a flurry of high-pitched tones. The Cornerian soldier was suddenly wretched from his state of borderline comatose, eyes widening with a mix of fear and exhilaration as he watched a trio of red-rimmed shadows move across the screen.
-/-/-/-/-
A trio of undecorated fighter-craft weaved silently through the floating crags which made up the bulk of Sargasso, the fiery exhaust trailing off their hulls the only indication of their existence as they closed in on their target. The lead pulled away from its followers, hurtling through the field, rolling from side to side as it shifted through the debris, a quiet mechanical grind sounding through the cockpit as the six Vulcan guns which lined its fuselage trained on the target ahead.
“Communications down, yes?” the lead’s voice crackled over the communications channel, engines flaring as the vulpine pilot’s spacecraft banked around a particularly large asteroid, doubling back and accelerating towards the Cornerian cruiser ahead, guns rotating with a certain mechanical precision as they prepared to fire.
“Affirmative, jammers in place and ready to activate upon command.” a second voice cracked, the remaining two craft following after the lead, keeping formation as best they could as they veered about through Sargasso.
“Well then.” the lead’s voice sneered once more, a fanged grin spreading across the red-furred scoundrel’s face, faint lights casting odd shadows upon the pilot, giving him an eerie and grotesque sort of quality. “We take out their fighter picket, make sure the Siegfrieds will have a clear run when they show. Keep your fighters clean; no glory for the man who gets himself shot down.”
“Yes, Sir!” the lead’s fellows replied in unison, the rear craft rolling off in opposite directions, breaking their formation and accelerating as they shot off towards the Cornerian vessel’s flank. The lead smiled once more, a gloved finger running over the scar that decorated his cheek, eyes widening, pupils shrinking to a pinpoint as his mouth gaped, revealing his canine fangs.
The fighter lurched forward, engines ablaze, the fires of madness burning behind the pilot’s glimmering yellow optics as he charged into the fray…
-/-/-/-/-
“Ensign, what in blazes is going on?!” the Captain barked, paw clenching the end of his armrest as the trio of unidentified fighter-craft rocketed past the bridge, just barely avoiding a head-on collision.
“Three heat signatures, Sir! They don’t look like any of our models, or Venomians for that matter. I… they aren’t in the database, Sir.” one of the surveillance officers replied in something close to a yell, fingers racing across his station’s keyboard, images flickering across the console before him.
“Damn it, they must be renegades. How the hell could they have remained hidden for so long?!” the Captain growled, running silent for a moment, the silence being broken by another of the crewmen on deck.
“Sir! We’ve got electrical interference, communications aren’t going through!” The Captain’s eyes widened at this, the well-groomed canine looking back at the communications officer, eyes wide as a bead of sweat began to form on his matted brow.
“Ensign.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“There are… there are three of them, correct? No other signatures on long-distance scanners?”
“No, Sir.” The young officer looked up at his superior for a moment, a puzzled look on his face as the Captain bit into the edge of his lip, as if raking over some decision for the last time.
“Very well then. I want all hands on deck, level one battle stations! Prepare all fighters for takeoff! Keep those bastards off of us as best you can with the Maxim guns; I want main assault cannons ready to fire as soon as possible, awaiting my orders!” the crewmen on deck gave a quick nod before turning back towards their respective stations, the Captain easing in his seat for a moment. “Keep up attempts to contact the others; if we manage to reach allied contacts, report to me at once! I’ll be damned if I let some raggedy outlaws bring down this ship!”
The Bastion’s port suddenly came alight, metal plates moving aside as pairs of gun barrels protruded from the vessel’s hull, muzzles flaring as bolts of radiant energy shot into the distance, vainly trying to track the shadows which had assaulted the cruiser. Meanwhile the Cornerian ship’s only pilots suited up, alarms blaring through the halls as they ran for their fighters. With any luck the enemy would be brought down without much incident. It seemed easy enough. But something lurked within the shadows of Sargasso, stifling the air as Solar sent its beams of blood-red light through the asteroid field. Something told the Captain that they would not live through this fight.
-= OOC =-
A cornered Cornerian vessel has been attacked by an unknown group of assailants, and now it is up to the pilots and gunmen onboard to defend it from this unforeseen threat; but a distant shadow nears, snuffing out the light of the distant sun.
Players may choose to be one of the pilots onboard the Bastion, one of the rogue attackers ((limited to two at this time, but more are welcome soon)). Third-party characters are also welcome, as long as you can write yourself in decently -- remember that communications in the immediate area are being blotted by electrical interference, including close channels between fighter squadrons, battle clusters, etc.
Requested character information includes your basic Name, Species, Gender, and Age references, as well as a brief Physical Description, [b]Character Background[b] ((Bio)), and information on their respective vehicles, weaponry, and any noteworthy skills or abilities.
Please keep magic to a minimum; however, telekinetic abilities are fine. Standard RP rules apply, which typically means no Godmodding ((deeming self uber-powerful, or playing other player’s characters)). Also, please try to keep posts of a decent length.
Finally, some information on the craft piloted by the assailants:
- Rx-105 Rapier -
Developer: Unknown -- presumed out-of-system supplier
Primary Function: Multi-role short-range fighter craft
Speed: Subsonic; incapable of unaided gateway travel
Range: Sub-planetary
Armament: Six chassis-integrated Vulcan Mk-III multi-barrel guns, four wing-mounted Sparrow laser-guided missiles.
Synopsis: A decent fighter craft that relies heavily on outdated technology. While it is easily outrun by modern Cornerian space fighters, the Rapier is often able to outmaneuver newer ships when under the command of a decent pilot. The Rapier’s weapon systems are also somewhat outdated. The Vulcan Mk-III, relying on bullets rather than directed energy, tends to have a difficult time piercing modern energy shielding systems, but compensates with the sheer number of rounds it can shell out per second, as well as the way it chews through the hulls of its target once shields have been penetrated. The Sparrow missiles mounted on the Rapier’s wings are also rather outdated, their guidance systems somewhat lacking in accuracy when compared to newer missiles, but they get the job done. The Rapier is typically used in small militias or factions, who lack the funding of larger government military forces, such as the Cornerian Defense Force.
And awaaaaay we go... I hope.
-- Sargasso Space Zone, Lylat System --
Following Oikonny’s rebellion overshadowing the forested world of Fortuna, and the Aparoid invasion following soon after, the Cornerian government has kept the asteroid-filled area known as Sargasso under close surveillance. In the years since the Star Fox Team’s assault on the region, the gang of criminals once related to the notorious Wolf O’Donnell has scattered, and what was once a place of refuge for galactic scoundrels has become little more than a barren field of debris. In the recent months of relative inactivity, the Cornerian Defense Force has become somewhat relaxed, their patrols slowly becoming less and less frequent, their once watchful eyes slowly glazing over as they adjust to the now tedious system…
But they fail to realize just what darkness lurks, waiting for this day when it’s foe becomes unguarded…
Nothing. Just like it had been for the past week, there was nothing to see but the copper-colored rocks floating against the black backdrop of space, stars twinkling faintly in the distance. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but these blasted asteroids; and not a sound to be heard, save the constant thrumming of the Cornerian vessel’s engines.
The cruiser’s interior wasn’t any more interesting than the floating wasteland through which it drifted. There was the occasional clatter of a keyboard, a feigned cough from one of the surveillance officers on deck, or perhaps the slurping of coffee across the room; but none of it amounted to much of anything, it was, after all, just another day of the same in Sargasso.
The canine figure manning one of countless sensor array, a mutt by the looks of him, let out a long and frustrated sigh, his fur-covered fingers absentmindedly pecking a few choice keys as he began what must have been his millionth scanning routine since his deployment. He wondered for a moment, just when his shift would be over, and he could return to the one thing that seemed to pass any time in the asteroid field: sleep.
His lulling train of thought was broken as a thin strip of light swept over one of the many windows opened on the computer monitor resting before him, and the Cornerian dog rested his head against his hand, elbow propped on his desk as he gave a quick roll of the eyes, simply wishing for the scanners to tell him what he already knew: that they were alone. Aside from the countless chunks of rock floating about outside, and the thinning cadre of Cornerian cruisers skimming along Sargasso, they were completely alone, and they would always be as such. Nobody would waste their time coming out to a giant floating pile of rocks like this place. Nobody. Ever.
The screen let out a monotonous beep as the scans finished one cycle, then another, and another, each time finding nothing but the asteroids that had hung along the Sargasso since the dawn of time. Another cycle… another… another. Nothing. Just like he had known since his first day here. There was absolutely nobody he-.
A red light flared on the monitoring station, the computer releasing a flurry of high-pitched tones. The Cornerian soldier was suddenly wretched from his state of borderline comatose, eyes widening with a mix of fear and exhilaration as he watched a trio of red-rimmed shadows move across the screen.
-/-/-/-/-
A trio of undecorated fighter-craft weaved silently through the floating crags which made up the bulk of Sargasso, the fiery exhaust trailing off their hulls the only indication of their existence as they closed in on their target. The lead pulled away from its followers, hurtling through the field, rolling from side to side as it shifted through the debris, a quiet mechanical grind sounding through the cockpit as the six Vulcan guns which lined its fuselage trained on the target ahead.
“Communications down, yes?” the lead’s voice crackled over the communications channel, engines flaring as the vulpine pilot’s spacecraft banked around a particularly large asteroid, doubling back and accelerating towards the Cornerian cruiser ahead, guns rotating with a certain mechanical precision as they prepared to fire.
“Affirmative, jammers in place and ready to activate upon command.” a second voice cracked, the remaining two craft following after the lead, keeping formation as best they could as they veered about through Sargasso.
“Well then.” the lead’s voice sneered once more, a fanged grin spreading across the red-furred scoundrel’s face, faint lights casting odd shadows upon the pilot, giving him an eerie and grotesque sort of quality. “We take out their fighter picket, make sure the Siegfrieds will have a clear run when they show. Keep your fighters clean; no glory for the man who gets himself shot down.”
“Yes, Sir!” the lead’s fellows replied in unison, the rear craft rolling off in opposite directions, breaking their formation and accelerating as they shot off towards the Cornerian vessel’s flank. The lead smiled once more, a gloved finger running over the scar that decorated his cheek, eyes widening, pupils shrinking to a pinpoint as his mouth gaped, revealing his canine fangs.
The fighter lurched forward, engines ablaze, the fires of madness burning behind the pilot’s glimmering yellow optics as he charged into the fray…
-/-/-/-/-
“Ensign, what in blazes is going on?!” the Captain barked, paw clenching the end of his armrest as the trio of unidentified fighter-craft rocketed past the bridge, just barely avoiding a head-on collision.
“Three heat signatures, Sir! They don’t look like any of our models, or Venomians for that matter. I… they aren’t in the database, Sir.” one of the surveillance officers replied in something close to a yell, fingers racing across his station’s keyboard, images flickering across the console before him.
“Damn it, they must be renegades. How the hell could they have remained hidden for so long?!” the Captain growled, running silent for a moment, the silence being broken by another of the crewmen on deck.
“Sir! We’ve got electrical interference, communications aren’t going through!” The Captain’s eyes widened at this, the well-groomed canine looking back at the communications officer, eyes wide as a bead of sweat began to form on his matted brow.
“Ensign.”
“Yes, Sir?”
“There are… there are three of them, correct? No other signatures on long-distance scanners?”
“No, Sir.” The young officer looked up at his superior for a moment, a puzzled look on his face as the Captain bit into the edge of his lip, as if raking over some decision for the last time.
“Very well then. I want all hands on deck, level one battle stations! Prepare all fighters for takeoff! Keep those bastards off of us as best you can with the Maxim guns; I want main assault cannons ready to fire as soon as possible, awaiting my orders!” the crewmen on deck gave a quick nod before turning back towards their respective stations, the Captain easing in his seat for a moment. “Keep up attempts to contact the others; if we manage to reach allied contacts, report to me at once! I’ll be damned if I let some raggedy outlaws bring down this ship!”
The Bastion’s port suddenly came alight, metal plates moving aside as pairs of gun barrels protruded from the vessel’s hull, muzzles flaring as bolts of radiant energy shot into the distance, vainly trying to track the shadows which had assaulted the cruiser. Meanwhile the Cornerian ship’s only pilots suited up, alarms blaring through the halls as they ran for their fighters. With any luck the enemy would be brought down without much incident. It seemed easy enough. But something lurked within the shadows of Sargasso, stifling the air as Solar sent its beams of blood-red light through the asteroid field. Something told the Captain that they would not live through this fight.
-= OOC =-
A cornered Cornerian vessel has been attacked by an unknown group of assailants, and now it is up to the pilots and gunmen onboard to defend it from this unforeseen threat; but a distant shadow nears, snuffing out the light of the distant sun.
Players may choose to be one of the pilots onboard the Bastion, one of the rogue attackers ((limited to two at this time, but more are welcome soon)). Third-party characters are also welcome, as long as you can write yourself in decently -- remember that communications in the immediate area are being blotted by electrical interference, including close channels between fighter squadrons, battle clusters, etc.
Requested character information includes your basic Name, Species, Gender, and Age references, as well as a brief Physical Description, [b]Character Background[b] ((Bio)), and information on their respective vehicles, weaponry, and any noteworthy skills or abilities.
Please keep magic to a minimum; however, telekinetic abilities are fine. Standard RP rules apply, which typically means no Godmodding ((deeming self uber-powerful, or playing other player’s characters)). Also, please try to keep posts of a decent length.
Finally, some information on the craft piloted by the assailants:
- Rx-105 Rapier -
Developer: Unknown -- presumed out-of-system supplier
Primary Function: Multi-role short-range fighter craft
Speed: Subsonic; incapable of unaided gateway travel
Range: Sub-planetary
Armament: Six chassis-integrated Vulcan Mk-III multi-barrel guns, four wing-mounted Sparrow laser-guided missiles.
Synopsis: A decent fighter craft that relies heavily on outdated technology. While it is easily outrun by modern Cornerian space fighters, the Rapier is often able to outmaneuver newer ships when under the command of a decent pilot. The Rapier’s weapon systems are also somewhat outdated. The Vulcan Mk-III, relying on bullets rather than directed energy, tends to have a difficult time piercing modern energy shielding systems, but compensates with the sheer number of rounds it can shell out per second, as well as the way it chews through the hulls of its target once shields have been penetrated. The Sparrow missiles mounted on the Rapier’s wings are also rather outdated, their guidance systems somewhat lacking in accuracy when compared to newer missiles, but they get the job done. The Rapier is typically used in small militias or factions, who lack the funding of larger government military forces, such as the Cornerian Defense Force.
And awaaaaay we go... I hope.