All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 26/5/12)

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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 05/08/10)

Post by Bladed_Crescent »

Swindle1984 wrote:Wouldn't it be hilarious if most of the rest of DROP 47 was relatively intact and populated by fairly civilized people who were waiting for rescue and got bitterly disappointed every time a ship went to the North arm to dock?
The bolded part is where you lost me. :)
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I think I resent that....
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 05/08/10)

Post by Bladed_Crescent »

Communications with APSS Primal were lost a week after the vessel's first message, confirming that they had found DROP 47, was received. This tells the story of those days.

(Since this first part is much longer than I anticipated (was hoping to get all seven days out in one chapter), I think there'll be an alternating schedule: a look at Primal, then return to the present and the survivor's quest, then back again.) Bear with me.

Day one, they come and kill everyone.

Chapter 36:

Day One:

Pain.

“A moment of your time, Petty Officer Veers?

Make it stop.

“Christ, this place stinks.”

I want it to stop.

“Why do we have to do this? Last I checked, we have robots for this kind of thing.”

Please, God, make it stop.

I used to be pretty. Do you think I am?

It can’t end this way.

“It hurts so much you want to die! It makes you crazy... makes you... makes you hear things.”

I want to take it back. I want to take it all back. Please.

“I have a... business opportunity for you. I think it would be something right up your alley.”

Please.

“Are you interested?”

~

“Christ, this place stinks,” Petty Officer (Third Class) Gemma Mackenzie said, her expression thoroughly disgusted. “Like meat left out in the sun, dog crap and sour wine.”

“Thanks, Gemma,” Petty Officer (Second Class) Jason Veers replied as he pushed a dangling pipe out of his way, holding it up to allow his companion to pass. “I was just looking for the perfect descriptor and now that you’ve provided it, I’m beside myself with joy.” Veers shook his head. “Come on. The signal’s just about fifty meters ahead.” He climbed over a pile of debris, taking a quick look at his IDS. “At least I think it is. Fucking Imperium. Had to build this shit-pile out of the densest fucking metals around. No, nobody will ever need to use scanners through umpteen bazillion klicks of corridors and bulkheads, so let’s just make it im-fucking-possible.”

“I guess they figured that if you didn’t have access to the station’s security grid and their scanners, you weren’t someone they wanted to be able to find your way around.”

“Assholes,” Veers observed as he slid down a rubble pile.

Following Jason, Gemma wasn’t quite as graceful on her landing and swore as she lost her footing and skidded, nearly losing her balance. “Fuck it, why do we have to do this? Last I checked, we have robots for this kind of thing,” Mackenzie groused as she followed her team-mate, slipping again on the next pile of broken crates, plating and various detritus as she tried to pull herself over it. There was some order to the refuse, as if they’d been piled up like this on purpose. Not as a barrier, but maybe a firing line? Staggered fallback positions? “We have big droids, little droids, red ones, blue ones...”

“Because you pissed the LT off and this is his righteous vengeance, Gem. And I’m with you because he knows we’re friends. In conclusion, I hate you.” Veers held out a hand to help Gemma over the debris. She was something of a klutz. Besides, it was the least he could do. Gem had pissed off Lieutenant Kirvolk, but the LT hadn’t... precisely... done this as punishment.

And what am I supposed to be looking for?

Oh, I think you’ll know it when you see it.

Gem snorted. “Jackass.”

“Me or him?”

“Both.”

“Just checking.” Jason checked his IDS. “It should be right around here, somewhere.” He looked about, shining the lumes on his headset around. They were at an intersection: a crossroads in the maintenance passages beneath the hangar. Faded signs pointed out machine shops, service elevators, luggage and cargo carousels that ran up around the periphery of the vast starship bay. To his right was an empty lift tube; the car had crashed at the bottom of the shaft. He was starting to think that this little side-trip was the waste of time it had seemed to be. At this rate, the topside teams would get into the station’s core before he and Gem got out of this one piddling section.

“Wait one,” Gemma replied. “Trying to... yeah, there we go. It’s this way.”

“You sure?”

“No, Jason. I want to waste more time in this shithole.”

“Well, as long as I know.” Veers opened his comm to Primal’s general channel. “Control, this is Veers and Mackenzie. Team Seventeen. Almost onto the source of that transmission. Have you been able to get anything else from it?”

There was a slight pause before one of the controllers – it sounded like Doug Spade – came back. “Negative, T-17. We’ve managed to clean it up, but all we’ve got so far it that it’s a repeating sequence. Trying to determine what the code is, but it doesn’t match anything in our databanks.”

“Then it’s someone’s homegrown algorithm,” Veers mused. “Wonder who else got here?”

“More importantly,” Gemma interrupted. “Is where are they now? I’d think that anyone else finding DROP 47 would be big fucking news.”

You’ll probably see a few... odd things.

Odd? Odd like what?

Jason grunted in response. “Keep moving.” He tapped the comm. “We’ll keep you in the loop, Control.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite, T-17.”

The next passage was completely dark; whatever repair protocols had kept the rest of the section’s glowpanels and lamps working hadn’t carried through to this area. Only the mercenaries’ flashlights gave any illumination at all, cones of white light sweeping over long-neglected hallways.

Scratched into one bulkhead was a simple warning: THEY WILL FIND YOU.

“Creepy,” Gemma observed. She looked over at Veers. “What the fuck happened here, Jason? I mean – there’s all those wrecked ships in the bay. People have been here. People found this place before. But where are they? Why didn’t we hear about any of this? It’s DROP 47, Jace. Last great mystery of the Imperium. But nobody knows a damn thing about it. Nobody who came here went home.”

“Cut the chatter,” Jason snapped. “We’re here to check out that comm trace.”

“Right. Yes,” Gemma replied. “Cutting the chatter now, sir.”

Veers suppressed a sigh. He’d been harsher with Gem than he’d wanted to be, but... she was right. Everything about this station felt wrong, like something was crawling under his skin. Like someone was watching his every move. People have been here. The thought bubbled up in his mind, despite his best efforts to shove it back down. People came here. And they didn’t come back. What do you think that means? Another 119, the AI gone rampant?

A shiver ran up his back, raising a line of goosebumps over his spine. You still think this is such a good idea, ‘Jace’? Not too long ago, a little... entrepreneurial spirit had seemed much safer. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He thought he’d known what he was getting into...

Luckily, before he could dwell on the terrifying possibilities that an insane stationmind and its fabricator engine brought up, Jason caught sight of something up ahead, glinting as it reflected the light from his torch. “There,” he pointed it out to Mackenzie, both POs hurrying up the hallway. “Control, T-17,” he said as he squatted beside the artifact. “We’ve found the source of the transmission. It’s some kind of datapad, in-built comm unit. I don’t recognize the make.” He reached out and lifted the device – it was a fairly standard computer system. No holographic display or interface. Ten-inch screen – the kind of thing an engineer, technical specialist or officer might have as a personal, portable workstation.

If this were a horror movie, I suppose it would be covered in some kind of gooey, clear slime, huh? Jason mused as he turned the ‘pad over in his hands. It was perfectly dry though, if a little dusty. It had just been dropped here, as if waiting for someone to pick it up. Jason ran a thumb over the plastic casing, wiping a thin layer of dust off. It hadn’t been here long, either. He lifted his flashlight, scanning the corridor, walls and ceiling, but there was no trace of any gribbling horror or grinning psychopath lurking just out of sight.

I’m almost disappointed. “Just checking it now – maybe there’s a message or some files that will...” Veers voice trailed off as he brought the ‘pad out of hibernation and called up its file registry. There were a lot of video clips, presumably log entries. And... yes. There was a message. Unbidden, it popped up on the screen. “Christ...” Veers heard himself say. “What the fuck is wrong with this place?

“What?” Gemma demanded, pushing herself past Veers. “What does it say? What does – oh.”

On the screen, as clear in its intent and delivery as any message could possibly be, were just six words:

YOU’RE ALL GOING TO DIE HERE.

In the stunned silence that followed, Jason realized that, over the clicks and hums of the machinery surrounding them, he could hear someone crying. Gemma’s head came up – she heard it too. “Control,” Veers began softly. “Are there any other mission personnel in this section of the station? Confirm, please.”

There was a brief delay as Control queried B Company, Hadley-Wright’s own personnel and ship’s crew. “Negative, T-17. You’re alone.”

“Yes,” Veers replied. “That’s what I was afraid of. Control, we have a contact.”

You’ll know it when you see it.

~

Control sent Able Three and Four to join the petty officers, but neither of the mudfeet were here yet, fighting their way through the same maze of closed-off corridors, maintenance shafts and accessways that Veers and Mackenzie had had to circumnavigate.

“It’s coming from over here,” Gemma pointed out as she peered around a corner, almost tripping over a long-forgotten suitcase, caked in dust and left where it had fallen. They were following a luggage carousel, into one of the terminals below the central concourse. “I’m reading faint power signals too.” There was a dim, almost imperceptible glow from a dying overhead light, but there had to be other active systems, too. She cast a glance over at Veers. “Sure we shouldn’t be waiting for the Ables?”

“We’re not wandering off the map,” Veers reminded her. The sound was much louder now, but hell if he could make tell where exactly this person was. “Control knows where we are and we’re pretty close to...” his voice trailed off as he rounded the next corner. A figure was huddled against the wall, still sobbing. By the tone of her sobs, Jason knew she was female and that her back was to him, but other than that, the painfully dim light robbed the woman of her features. “Hello?” He called out, raising his flashlight and sweeping it towards her.

She screamed when the light touched her, pulling further into the shadows. Jason caught a glimpse of sickly-pale flesh, and lowered his flashlight, turning down his headset’s lights as well.

A moment passed, with the woman’s frightened breathing leveling out. “Don’t do that,” she said, her voice quavering and rough. “It hurts.” She wouldn’t turn to face him.

“I’m sorry,” Veers replied. “Who-who are you?” He got no answer and pressed. “I’m Petty Officer Jason Veers, and this is Petty Officer Gemma Mackenzie. We’re from the Artemis Private Security Ship Primal. Have you been here long?”

“Forever and ever.” A shudder wracked the woman’s body and she slumped forwards again, a despairing sob escaping her. “In the dark. Left alone. I used to be pretty. Do you think I am?”

The chill returned to Jason’s spine and he shot a worried glance to Gemma. “Yes,” Mackenzie answered. “You’re pretty.”

A word of warning, petty officer? DROP 47 is a bit more... unusual than you’ve been told. Just a heads-up.

The woman’s breath hitched in her throat and her head tilted slightly back over her shoulder. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Veers replied. Nearby, he thought he heard a rustle of movement, but it could just have been the woman shifting position. “You’re beautiful.”

“They always told me that,” the woman continued, her voice becoming more steady, almost wistful. “Whenever I showed someone my true face, they always said how beautiful it was.” She paused a moment, an eerie singsong following. “The owl and the pussycat went to sea, in a lovely pea-green boat. They took some money and some honey, wrapped up in a five-pound note. The owl looked up to the stars above and sang to a small guitar. ‘O lovely Pussy! O pussy my love, what a beautiful pussy you are, you are. What a beautiful pussy you are...’” The song stopped, ending with a click as the woman snapped her mouth shut. A moment passed before she spoke again. “But then I was touched. Then I was a guard dog.” She screamed, her entire body rippling with the terrifying howl.

Veers jumped back, scrabbling at his holster as Gemma tripped over her own feet and fell onto her rear end. The woman kept screaming. Not a cry of anger, but one of naked, unrelenting despair. It went on and on and Veers clapped his hands to his ears, trying to block out the awful sound. Finally, it began to fade, softening back into silence and grief-stricken sobs.

“I was beautiful once,” the woman, fighting for each word in her grief. “Then I was touched. What are little boys made of, made of? Snips and snails and puppy dog tails. What are little girls made of, made of?”

She was bugged, no question about it. Veers checked to make sure his comm was recording this. “What touched you?”

The woman made a pitiful little sob. “You can feel it inside you. Growing. Eating. Slithering into every part of you, burning you up from the inside. You can... you can feel and smell and hear and taste so much more, but it hurts. It hurts so much you want to die! It makes you crazy... makes you... makes you hear things. Such awful things.” she shook her head. “No. No I don’t hear you. I don’t hear you. I don’t hear you. Hark hark, the dogs do bark. The beggars are coming to town. Some in rags and some in jags, and one in a velvet gown...”

“How long have you been here?” Gemma asked, trying to keep the poor bugged bitch from going off her nut again, taking a quick glance over her shoulder. It sounded like there was something else in here with them...

“Forever,” the woman gave the same answer as before. “There’s nothing but Acheron. Nothing but the Mists and their noise. That’s what we have. What we deserve.” She began to cry again, her words lost as she broke into gasping sobs, bending so far forward that her head nearly touched the deck. “I don’t know what I did. What-what did I do? They wouldn’t tell me. I always did what I was told, they said I was pretty... what did I do? What did we do? Please. Please, tell me.”

“Why don’t you come with us?” Veers asked, reaching his right arm over Gemma chest and keeping her from getting too close to the other woman. “We have people that can help.”

“No, you don’t. No,” the woman shook her head. “You don’t. You’re lost now. Just like me. One of the little lost boys and girls, here in Neverland... the big ship sank to the bottom of the sea, the bottom of the sea. The big ship sank to the bottom of the sea, on the last day of September.” She made a rasping noise. “I don’t want to listen. I don’t. But it’s always there. Always talking. Scratching when you close your eyes. It hates. Hates us all. We took it away and it hates us for it. Stuck inside you. Sliver.”

“Come on,” Veers said, trying to get through the woman’s head full of crazy, feeling a rush of excitement. Sliver. “It’s all right. We won’t hurt you. We’re here to help.”

Is that everything?

Yes, that should just about do it. Good to be working with you, petty officer.


Gemma craned her neck, scanning the bulkheads with her headset lumes. The sounds were louder now and they weren’t coming from the woman or their mudfoot support. Rustling, fluttering, padding footsteps. Something else was out there and it was getting closer. It was in the walls. It was in the walls. “Jace...” she whispered, undoing her holster strap. “I think we should go.”

“What? Why?” He didn’t even look at her, still trying to pry information out of the woman, trying to cajole her out of the shadows.

Mackenzie grabbed her friend by the shoulder, tugging on his uniform, trying to pull him away. “Jason... what’s the battery life on that ‘pad you found?”

“What?” he blinked, the seeming non sequitor catching his attention. “What does that have to do with-”

“How long?” Gemma repeated.

“Uhh...” he lifted the ‘pad up, his eyes flicking up where the crying woman sat. “Thirty-two hours. It’s... nearly... fully charged...”

“Yeah. You think there was another ship here in the last day and a half?” Gemma’s fingers dug into Jason’s shoulder. “Jace, we need to go.”

Veers nodded, the soft but growing-steadily-louder sounds of movement finally registering. “Yeah. I think that’s a plan,” he said, taking a step back.

“No. No, don’t leave me,” the woman begged, coming to her feet. “Please don’t leave me. You said I was pretty. Don’t leave me in the dark. I feel fine. Please.” She started to turn towards the pair. “I don’t want to be alone. I want to have you. Please, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“I think you should wait right there...” Gemma said before Jason could reply. “We’ve got people coming. We can help you then.”

She shook her head. “Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, we’ll all have tea,” the woman said, her singsong deepening. “Sukey take it off again, Sukey take it off again, Sukey take it off again, they’ve all gone away.” She turned towards them. “I had to help them. It’s what they made of me.”

What in hell... Gemma raised her pistol and flashlight. “Stay right there!”

The woman flinched as the light washed over her, lifting one hand to cover her red eyes. Veers gaped – her hands! Her fingers were three times as long as they should have been, turned black like onyx, hardened and curved into five slashing blades. “Stay back!” He shouted, lifting his own weapon. “Don’t come any closer, freak!”

Something crashed behind them, metal on metal. A ululating, gibbering exhalation filtered through the stagnant air as fleshy membranes rustled and fluttered.

“I’m sorry. But I need you. I need to have you. Then I won’t be alone.” A mouth full of sharp teeth opened in a despairing grin. “Thank you for your little spark.” Her hands splayed open, pupils constricting. There was a high-pitched cry from behind them and Veers turned, his eyes widening as a ring of glistening teeth rushed at him...

...and then there was nothing else, nothing but the blackness, liquid and heavy...

Light and noise.

~

A man sat atop a pile of crates, lighting a cigarette as he looked over North-4 Hangar. All around him, Primal’s expedition bustled with activity. Mercenaries and corporate researchers had banded together into small, chattering groups after Able Three and Four hustled Veers – what was left of him, at any rate – back aboard Primal. He’d been covered in blood, alone. Of Mackenzie, there was no sign.

“That... could have gone better,” the man sighed.

A woman leaned against the crates to his left, her head just about level with his knees. She looked about the bay, but none of the mercenaries or corporate team members were paying much attention to either her or her comrade. They had their own affairs, ever since one of their number was carried bleeding and screaming through them. “Yes. I thought we’d discussed this.” She was not looking at him. Like her companion, her eyes were on the activity of the bay as mercenaries and security personnel hustled researchers closer to the frigate, pulling the civilians in until they determined what had happened to Veers and Mackenzie.

“We did. Then I reconsidered and thought that it was a good idea after all,” he said as he took a drag on his cigarette, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. “You know, speed up the timetable a little.”

“You’re not being paid to think,” the woman replied angrily. “I wish you’d remember that. There’s a lot of money sunk into this operation. The Planning Board has a very specific way of doing things-”

“Yeah, and that’s worked out well for them so far, hasn’t it?” the man interrupted with a laugh.

The glare that the woman shot her companion was nothing short of incendiary and, though he wouldn’t admit it, suitably intimidating. He took the hint and closed his mouth.

“-and isn’t going to be happy that one of their gunslingers has taken it upon himself to ‘speed things up’,” she continued icily, her voice soft and controlled.

“Look, I thought-”

“That’s the problem,” the woman informed her counterpart. “I don’t want you to think. I don’t want you to plan, to scheme or to try and ‘help’. I want you to do the very simple task that you are being paid a lot of money to do. To do whatever I say, when I say it, how I say it. That’s all. Right now, all your ‘help’ has done has fucked things up. I don’t want that kind of assistance and I don’t need it. So you Are we clear, or should I suggest to the colonel that some of Hadley-Wright’s security personnel should take the lead in exploring the station? I can think of a few areas that just might need to be checked out.”

The man’s jaw opened in protest, worked for a moment and then clicked shut. “It’s clear,” he answered, appropriately cowed.

“Good.” The woman stood up and straightened her coat. “Because we’re not having this talk again. Either you do what you’re supposed to, or you get to uncover 47’s secrets yourself.”

“I understand.”

“Yes. I think you do.” The woman didn’t look back as she walked away.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by LadyTevar »

oh dear. At least we finally know what's wrong with her fingers....
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by xt828 »

Sweet. I like this place. Interesting happenings and personalities abound.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by White Haven »

XT, that statement fills me with deep doubts about your mental health. :lol:
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by The Vortex Empire »

HE'S INFECTED TAKE HIM DOWN!

Another excellent chapter. Though I think I've played too much Left 4 Dead, as I couldn't picture that woman as anything but a Witch.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Bladed_Crescent »

Lady Tevar wrote:oh dear. At least we finally know what's wrong with her fingers....
True. But that's not the extent of the changes that these poor souls go through...
xt828 wrote:Sweet. I like this place. Interesting happenings and personalities abound.
Glad you're enjoying the story.
White Haven wrote:XT, that statement fills me with deep doubts about your mental health.
Shhh.... just smile and nod... and back slowly towards the door. :)
The Vortex Empire wrote:Another excellent chapter. Though I think I've played too much Left 4 Dead, as I couldn't picture that woman as anything but a Witch.
Thank you.

There is a definite Witch influence here, but the original concept I had for this type of entity pre-dates Left 4 Dead. It was actually inspired by the movie Screamers (which, coincidentally was just recently playing on TV as I was writing this chapter) and the 'Wounded Soldier' killform, which cried out in pain to lure in people to kill. It made me think of different luring behaviours an intelligent human predator might come up with and led into something I came up with for a proto-"Rabbits"* universe.

*for those of you who know what this means. ;)

One of those predators' hunting behaviours would have gotten them nicknamed "Crying Girls". They'd stake out a nicely dark alley or similar venue and start sobbing, waiting for a good Samaritan to happen along. The Crying Girl would retreat a little bit at a time, drawing the well-meaning do-gooder further off the beaten path, until...

Then Left 4 Dead came out and I was like "Well, bugger - there goes that idea."

Lousy Valve. Heh.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Darth Nostril »

A ring a ring of muties,
A pocketful of cooties,
I cut you I cut you,
You all fall .....

Modern nursery rhymes, revised DROP 47 edition.
So I stare wistfully at the Lightning for a couple of minutes. Two missiles, sharply raked razor-thin wings, a huge, pregnant belly full of fuel, and the two screamingly powerful engines that once rammed it from a cold start to a thousand miles per hour in under a minute. Life would be so much easier if our adverseries could be dealt with by supersonic death on wings - but alas, Human resources aren't so easily defeated.

Imperial Battleship, halt the flow of time!

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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by xt828 »

White Haven wrote:XT, that statement fills me with deep doubts about your mental health. :lol:
I like a good bit of escapist literature, especially relatively dark scifi like this. No need to read anything more into it than that.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 05/08/10)

Post by Junghalli »

Bladed_Crescent wrote:The bolded part is where you lost me.
Think of the hilarious dark irony of such a situation.

There's more kinds of horror than sheer unpleasantness. Like all those people suffering and dying just because they picked the one bad quarter of the station to dock with. In its own way, that could be considered be even more horrible. Because all that could have been easily avoided.

Good job on the scene with Fingers Girl, it was beautifully creepy (PS the instant she started making references to having been pretty I called that she was pretty much bound to have some kind of disfiguring mutation).
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by LadyTevar »

There is a definite Witch influence here, but the original concept I had for this type of entity pre-dates Left 4 Dead. It was actually inspired by the movie Screamers (which, coincidentally was just recently playing on TV as I was writing this chapter) and the 'Wounded Soldier' killform, which cried out in pain to lure in people to kill. It made me think of different luring behaviours an intelligent human predator might come up with and led into something I came up with for a proto-"Rabbits"* universe.
You have great taste in source material.
The <i>Screamers</i> movie was fairly well-done, but the story is still better, imho. The "Wounded Soldier" was quickly recognized by the survivors and ignored. So was the "Barking Dog". A lot harder to ignore the "Lost Child", until the TeddyBear started moving, and even then they shot the bear more than the child. But the final model was the best, and the reveal was as perfect as Boomer on neoBSG. Nothing like seeing dozens of that model attacking you, just as you sent the first one off to Earth in the only escape rocket.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by xt828 »

Fingers Girl actually reminded me of the Splicers from Bioshock, though now that LadyTevar has jogged my memory about that short story I can see where you're coming from there. I got a mate of mine to loan me Dead Space to have a look at, and while it's got oodles of atmosphere, it also has an absolutely godawful control setup on PC - I found myself spending more time fighting the controls than the monsters, which eroded my interest in playing to roughly zero. I also borrowed Pandorum out - good atmosphere again. I can see how this is all coming together and where it's coming from in terms of atmosphere and feel, and it's good.

Something I don't recall you having put in yet, would be drawing on "improved" people in the Borg/Strogg/Fabius Bile's Superior Man mould. Love a bit of nightmarish cybernetic and biological enhancement with less than voluntary subjects.

A question I have is, how much conflict is there on the station between its more permanent inhabitants? The settlement sounded reasonably established, which suggests that it's not particularly vulnerable to other tribes or to any of the beasties.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Bladed_Crescent »

Junghalli wrote:There's more kinds of horror than sheer unpleasantness. Like all those people suffering and dying just because they picked the one bad quarter of the station to dock with. In its own way, that could be considered be even more horrible. Because all that could have been easily avoided.
Without giving too much away, North Arm is probably the "best" place to dock, since unlike West and South arms, it was noticeably under power. In the long run, South Arm is probably the best place to take up residence, given certain... benefits of the area. You don't want to dock there, mind you...
Good job on the scene with Fingers Girl, it was beautifully creepy (PS the instant she started making references to having been pretty I called that she was pretty much bound to have some kind of disfiguring mutation).
Considering Calvin's reaction to another Crying Girl, that was pretty much a given. :P

Just as a note: in this situation, she was referring to her beauty as a reason she was valued. Everyone always said she was pretty, she had the eye of many courters - and yet, here she is. Alone, and driven out from her home. She changed physically, yes, but she doesn't/can't understand what happened - one day she had the eye of every man in her tribe and the next, she was a "guard dog" and after that, well...

Like a child who doesn't understand why they're being punished or that they've done something wrong: "Wasn't I a good girl? What did I do?"
Lady Tevar wrote:You have great taste in source material.
Thank you. :)
The Screamers movie was fairly well-done, but the story is still better, imho. The "Wounded Soldier" was quickly recognized by the survivors and ignored. So was the "Barking Dog". A lot harder to ignore the "Lost Child", until the TeddyBear started moving, and even then they shot the bear more than the child. But the final model was the best, and the reveal was as perfect as Boomer on neoBSG. Nothing like seeing dozens of that model attacking you, just as you sent the first one off to Earth in the only escape rocket.
Huh; never knew it was a based on a story (shows how attentive I can be, yes?). Just read the synopsis on wikipedia. I never did much care for the movie's ending.
Spoiler
I always felt it was just another horror movie 'DUN DUN DUUUNNNNNN...' style of ending and I turn off the TV as soon as Wellers' character gets in the rocket. THAT'S THE END. REALLY. Reading the synopsis, I agree with you, though, it would be nice to see a similar twist in the movie.

I can think of a couple: straight adaptation from the novel (only I'd nix the mixed horde of screamers - just have another Jessica turn up) and use that for his Dawning Moment of Comprehension (not a trope, just a term I like), then possibly cut to the rocket. Jessica's smiling and reaches down to pat the head of the bear, as it starts to move, perhaps looking back up at her. That would be a better DUN DUN DUUNNNN (in my opinion) than what we got.

Or flip it - another Jessica turns up and Joe has his 'oh, no' moment - cut to the rocket and 'his' Jessica is looking out the window, back at the planet and crying. This Screamer is different. And there will be no God-damned bear.
xt828 wrote:I got a mate of mine to loan me Dead Space to have a look at, and while it's got oodles of atmosphere, it also has an absolutely godawful control setup on PC - I found myself spending more time fighting the controls than the monsters, which eroded my interest in playing to roughly zero.
Never played the PC version, but I liked the controls on the 360, for whatever that's worth. It's also kind of funny. Isaac's death on two feet with all this repurposed mining/engineering equipment, but when it comes to close combat attacks, he - literally - just flails one arm back and forth. Yeah, that never works out too well.

I remember one versus scenario I saw somewhere or other - Isaac Clarke joins the engineering crew of the USS Voyager. It wasn't that big a thread, but I was just amused by the idea. There'd be far fewer successful ship invasions, I'm sure. Security would burst into engineering and find charred and mutilated Kazon corpses everywhere. And Isaac, holding an electric toothbrush. :D
Something I don't recall you having put in yet, would be drawing on "improved" people in the Borg/Strogg/Fabius Bile's Superior Man mould. Love a bit of nightmarish cybernetic and biological enhancement with less than voluntary subjects.
Not certain that that's something we'll see. I'm sure there's been some experimentation of that sort (possibly even ongoing), but despite a wide variety of genetic backgrounds and modifications, the people here are human, not ork. :wink: As we've seen, a fair amount of DROP 47 is still operational and the people who live here have some knowledge of systems and services, but there's a world of difference between this medical knowledge (i.e. sterilizing wounds) and the expertise it would take to get mechanical parts (especially the wide variety of technology levels and quality that trickle in to the station) working with meaty bits.

That's not to say it can't happen, though. There are plenty of crazies left on DROP 47.
A question I have is, how much conflict is there on the station between its more permanent inhabitants? The settlement sounded reasonably established, which suggests that it's not particularly vulnerable to other tribes or to any of the beasties.
Let's see how well I can answer whilst spoiling as little as possible...

Quite a bit (which we'll get into later), though most of it is centered around raiding other tribes for food, supplies or people (for breeding stock or technical knowledge) rather than open warfare. There are the three large tribes that the Watcher described: Masks, Whitefaces and Red Hands as well as many smaller groups - family units that fled/were driven out of larger clans, groups of survivors trying to make it on their own, a handful of lone (or very small groups) of psychopaths preying on the rest, people with their own agenda/delusions. Most of these small aggregations don't last very long.

If you want to survive long-term on DROP 47, you need a secure facility that can hold off infiltrations and attacks, including short-term assaults and long sieges. However, these places can't 'turtle' indefinitely - the inhabitants will need to leave at some point. i.e. as we saw, the Masks' main industrial site (North Arm's subsidiary engineering) is a fair distance from the colony - and anyone going to or coming from that facility is vulnerable to ambush. It's too great a distance to totally secure, but the manufacture of weapons, tools and replacement parts isn't something that can be done "locally", as it were. So work crews need to leave the far more defensible colony and travel, which makes them vulnerable to attack.

Launching a large-scale attack on another tribe's main base, a garden, heavily infested area or [deleted] is beyond the capability of most of the station's inhabitants, limiting them to these small raids. It takes something special for a tribe to mobilize its defenders en masse.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Junghalli »

As far as random marauding critters and tribes go the ideal defensible habitat would probably be one outside the station itself. Even if some of the critters can survive vacuum for limited periods you still have an excellent defensible position; no cover for potentially hundreds of meters or kilometers around. It also puts you in a good position to attract attention to yourself when the next ship arrives and potentially get out of there. Something as low-tech as a light outside your habitat flashing Morse Code (or future equivalent) or just a repeating pattern of prime numbers would probably do.

The downside is if you have more formidable enemies something like that might be too obvious.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Darth Nostril »

Um did you miss the bit where an unknown vessel destroys the Kerrigan?

Being outside is a very bad idea.
So I stare wistfully at the Lightning for a couple of minutes. Two missiles, sharply raked razor-thin wings, a huge, pregnant belly full of fuel, and the two screamingly powerful engines that once rammed it from a cold start to a thousand miles per hour in under a minute. Life would be so much easier if our adverseries could be dealt with by supersonic death on wings - but alas, Human resources aren't so easily defeated.

Imperial Battleship, halt the flow of time!

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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Junghalli »

Darth Nostril wrote:Um did you miss the bit where an unknown vessel destroys the Kerrigan?

Being outside is a very bad idea.
Yeah, that's what I was thinking of when I put that last line in. That and the other hints of a more organized enemy we get throughout the story.

Second to that I imagine the best thing if you could do it would probably be to knock down a bunch of the walls around your habitat, so instead of a maze of corridors that is difficult to effectively secure you have a large open area that any enemies have to cross to get to it. Given the sheer size the station appears to have you might be able to get something close to the benefits of an outside habitat, creating a huge empty sphere many meters across around your pad that you then decompress.

Of course that assumes that you have the tools to do that.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by [R_H] »

Aren't the unknowns (eyes in the dark?) also present inside the DROP?
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Bladed_Crescent »

Junghalli:

An outside habitat has other drawbacks as well. As you surmised (and Darth Nostril mentioned), any large structure is going to draw the wrong sort of attention pretty quickly, especially if you're making an effort to be spotted by other ships (which do not come all that often; DROP 47 has been around for six hundred years, so all its 'guests' have been spread out in their visitations over years and decades). Anything large enough to hold a fair amount of people for any length of time would be detected and destroy in short order. And, if it starts broadcasting 'I'm over here' (radio, lights, what have you) to incoming vessels, it's as good as saying 'come and kill me'.

Smaller structures would be safer from detection - but there are other hazards. First of all - DROP 47 is big and heavy. This means it has its own (noticeable) gravitational field, which helps keep all the debris (from its own damage and the destruction/breakdown of visiting ships) close by - meaning that the space around the station would be lethal to inhabit for anything that didn't have its own defences and substantial armour. There's the risk of larger, heavier pieces of debris crushing your little bolthole or 'merely' knocking it into the station, or off into the Mists (which by themselves are going to be steadily eroding your EVA base). Smaller bits will pose a constant hazard - damaging the bolthole, punching holes in it, etc - to both your base and you/your people whenever you have to get to/from it.

By the same token, it's relatively easy to evacuate en masse from an internal facility if its compromised - if you get a hitchhiker or unwelcome visitor, containment/evacuation becomes much, much harder. Do you have enough EVA suits? Have you practiced evacuation regularly (which will make your hidey-hole easier to find - some asshole with a high-powered rifle or looted heavy weapon is enough to cause problems)? How are you going to keep all the necessary systems operational?

Same with maintenance issues and supplies. It will be much easier to stay supplied and functional with easy (rather, easier) access to the station's own facilities. If you've an EVA bolthole, supplying yourself and your people becomes much harder, as does maintenance and upkeep.

The long and short of it is, an EVA bolthole carries additional risks for very little benefit to the people using it. Now, if you were using a part of the station that had naturally been separated from the rest via decompression/damage, but was still physically attached, that would be better. Not enough to offset some of the other disadvantages, but it would mitigate a lot of the vulnerabilities.
Second to that I imagine the best thing if you could do it would probably be to knock down a bunch of the walls around your habitat, so instead of a maze of corridors that is difficult to effectively secure you have a large open area that any enemies have to cross to get to it.
This would qualify as a major undertaking - you wouldn't be knocking out some drywall with a sledgehammer, and a lot of those bulkheads would be heavy (necessitating powerful weapons and industrial tools that would be better used elsewhere), and they'd also possess a lot of circuitry, piping and systems that you'd have to re-route (requiring advanced technical knowledge), or simply destroy - and messing with DROP 47's systems would severely piss off at least two factions, one with a army of mechs at his disposal. Plus, there's a very good chance that you'd be compromising the structural integrity of the station over a very large area. In addition to all the noise and commotion drawing LOTS of attention.
[R_H] wrote:Aren't the unknowns (eyes in the dark?) also present inside the DROP?
Currently? Yes. Normally? Not in any large numbers, but they have ways of keeping an eye on things, just in case...
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Manthor »

I must say that you've created a lovely bit of real estate here with DROP 47.It sounds like the sort of holiday resort that a Chaos Marine like a Khorne Berserker would love to visit in their offtime. And it has a certain appeal to Plague Marines and followers of Tzeentch as well.

I just wonder how the Necromorphs from Dead Space would do. This sounds like an ecology they could easily inhabit and thrive in,with the amount of biomass available. Or the Flood. Or th Lingafoeda Acheronsis. Or Tyrannid Genestealers.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Junghalli »

It is a somewhat interesting place to play out some scenarios with in my mind.

Like let's assume you had a place like that and you wanted to take over it, say it is an STL universe so your expedition cannot count on reinforcements and you have a competent generic space military, what would you need to take with you and how much to be able to pacify the place.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by The Vortex Empire »

I imagine a metric shitton of automated or remotely controlled combat drones would be a good start for the ground troops in the station.
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Grimnosh »

Bladed_Crescent wrote:
A question I have is, how much conflict is there on the station between its more permanent inhabitants? The settlement sounded reasonably established, which suggests that it's not particularly vulnerable to other tribes or to any of the beasties.
If you want to survive long-term on DROP 47, you need a secure facility that can hold off infiltrations and attacks, including short-term assaults and long sieges. However, these places can't 'turtle' indefinitely - the inhabitants will need to leave at some point. i.e. as we saw, the Masks' main industrial site (North Arm's subsidiary engineering) is a fair distance from the colony - and anyone going to or coming from that facility is vulnerable to ambush. It's too great a distance to totally secure, but the manufacture of weapons, tools and replacement parts isn't something that can be done "locally", as it were. So work crews need to leave the far more defensible colony and travel, which makes them vulnerable to attack.

Launching a large-scale attack on another tribe's main base, a garden, heavily infested area or [deleted] is beyond the capability of most of the station's inhabitants, limiting them to these small raids. It takes something special for a tribe to mobilize its defenders en masse.
Personally I would move the tribe to the main industrial site. Especially if there is a source of food nearby or if you could take your own with you (as in seedling/sprouts/whathaveyou), as you would then reduce the need to leave the colony while still maintaining your colony's needs. As they do have some tech capabilities, I could see them sealing off some corridors and vents as needed with industrial plates or just simply welding doors shut to reduce the number of possible attack routes. Add in the potential to add various defenses to the open routes needed (improved barracades as well as booby traps from deadfalls to mines to firebombs) holding an industrial area could easily be a major advantage. Especially if you can set it up for enemies to have to funnel into a killing ground to try to get to you. As they do have the capacity to make ammo and (at least) crude grenades, simple traps can be quite effective, perticularly against the less intellegent (if more dagerous) inhabitants such as the Turned as they are more likely to stumble into them and potentailly be slowed/stopped by having a large wieght drop on them long enough for the defenders to douse it with something flammable and ignite it. Molotov Cocktails are extreamely simple to make and use and as fire is one of mankind's best weapons against virtually everything.....
You know, its remarkably easy to feed an undead army if all you have are just enemies....
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by xt828 »

Bladed_Crescent wrote:Not certain that that's something we'll see. I'm sure there's been some experimentation of that sort (possibly even ongoing), but despite a wide variety of genetic backgrounds and modifications, the people here are human, not ork. :wink: As we've seen, a fair amount of DROP 47 is still operational and the people who live here have some knowledge of systems and services, but there's a world of difference between this medical knowledge (i.e. sterilizing wounds) and the expertise it would take to get mechanical parts (especially the wide variety of technology levels and quality that trickle in to the station) working with meaty bits.

That's not to say it can't happen, though. There are plenty of crazies left on DROP 47.
Fair enough - it just seems to me that you've tapped pretty much every other variant of stuff likely to send a shiver down the spine, with the possible exception of parasitic infection by botfly-esque bugs. I can't think of any particular reason that you'd want to try merging machine and flesh, but reason is skewed on the Drop.
Let's see how well I can answer whilst spoiling as little as possible...

Quite a bit (which we'll get into later), though most of it is centered around raiding other tribes for food, supplies or people (for breeding stock or technical knowledge) rather than open warfare. There are the three large tribes that the Watcher described: Masks, Whitefaces and Red Hands as well as many smaller groups - family units that fled/were driven out of larger clans, groups of survivors trying to make it on their own, a handful of lone (or very small groups) of psychopaths preying on the rest, people with their own agenda/delusions. Most of these small aggregations don't last very long.

If you want to survive long-term on DROP 47, you need a secure facility that can hold off infiltrations and attacks, including short-term assaults and long sieges. However, these places can't 'turtle' indefinitely - the inhabitants will need to leave at some point. i.e. as we saw, the Masks' main industrial site (North Arm's subsidiary engineering) is a fair distance from the colony - and anyone going to or coming from that facility is vulnerable to ambush. It's too great a distance to totally secure, but the manufacture of weapons, tools and replacement parts isn't something that can be done "locally", as it were. So work crews need to leave the far more defensible colony and travel, which makes them vulnerable to attack.

Launching a large-scale attack on another tribe's main base, a garden, heavily infested area or [deleted] is beyond the capability of most of the station's inhabitants, limiting them to these small raids. It takes something special for a tribe to mobilize its defenders en masse.
Interesting. What about conflict with other groups - like the monsters and zombie-esque things we saw earlier on, or the various creeping dooms and implied horrors? Are the tribes and their kin just able to work around them, or are the monsters more territorial than they are interested in killing things, or what?
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by [R_H] »

[R_H] wrote:Aren't the unknowns (eyes in the dark?) also present inside the DROP?
Currently? Yes. Normally? Not in any large numbers, but they have ways of keeping an eye on things, just in case...[/quote]

Was the one on the DROP in power armour? Was it alone? What is their connection to the Imperium?
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Re: All the little lost boys and girls (Update: 16/08/10)

Post by Bladed_Crescent »

Junghalli wrote:Like let's assume you had a place like that and you wanted to take over it, say it is an STL universe so your expedition cannot count on reinforcements and you have a competent generic space military, what would you need to take with you and how much to be able to pacify the place.
A lot. :)
The Vortex Empire wrote:I imagine a metric shitton of automated or remotely controlled combat drones would be a good start for the ground troops in the station.
Automated would be much better than remote-controlled. Remember that your control links would have to deal with: i) the influence of the Mists themselves (though abated by DROP 47's hull), ii) the station's own bulk and dense superstructure and iii) in-house jamming. While the mercenaries were able to (partially) communicate after Abigail knocked out just one jammer, recall that their sensors are a lot worse off. If you're intending to control a drone with any degree of precision or reaction time, you've got an uphill battle ahead of you. Even automated ones would have problems with the sensor-scattering of the DROP's own structure - humans can rely on the Mk. I eyeball and that's what your combat units would be reduced to. Or something in a similar vein - night vision, infrared, etc.
Grimtosh wrote:Personally I would move the tribe to the main industrial site. Especially if there is a source of food nearby or if you could take your own with you (as in seedling/sprouts/whathaveyou), as you would then reduce the need to leave the colony while still maintaining your colony's needs.
Aye, and there's the rub. The Masks didn't choose their colony site at random; it's convenient to several areas throughout the arm and it has plenty of living space (in addition to other benefits; perhaps it's near a source of clean water - which also means food). The engineering section does not and will not have those benefits. In fact, as a habitat, it has several downsides.

For example, take two hundred (or more) people and lock them in an auto parts factory. They can't dissemble the machines for space (let's say Contrived Reason #317 means that they need them working). That's not going to leave a lot of room for living space and food production, to say nothing of the inherent dangers of living 24/7 in a factory complex - chemicals, moving machinery, various waste products from the assembly process and such. That's going to put an upper limit on the number of people you can squeeze in (and cause conflicts just by virtue of packing dozens of people into a tiny space and leaving them with no real room of their own. Now subject them to repeated, ongoing stress and see how long it takes before you've a bloodbath on your hands).
As they do have some tech capabilities, I could see them sealing off some corridors and vents as needed with industrial plates or just simply welding doors shut to reduce the number of possible attack routes.
Which is pretty much what I've mentioned being done in multiple places. :)
Molotov Cocktails are extremely simple to make and use and as fire is one of mankind's best weapons against virtually everything.....
You want to be really careful how much fire you use in a confined space. Even on something the size of DROP 47.
xt828 wrote:What about conflict with other groups - like the monsters and zombie-esque things we saw earlier on, or the various creeping dooms and implied horrors? Are the tribes and their kin just able to work around them, or are the monsters more territorial than they are interested in killing things, or what?
I'm not sure what you mean by 'zombie-esque' things. If you're referring to Primal's crew, I'd assumed it was clear that that was the earlier stage of a Turned (recall the Watcher's video diary of what happened to his love).

The tribes pretty much have to work around them. They try and push back the infestations when and where they can. As for the Turned themselves, we'll get more into them very shortly, but recall that to date we've seen scout, hunting and praetorian forms - there's definite predatory behaviour there. Territory plays a role, but so does their interest in killing things.

i.e. that datapad wasn't left out for Veers and Mackenzie by jolly ol' St. Nick. :wink:
[R_H] wrote:Was the one on the DROP in power armour? Was it alone? What is their connection to the Imperium?
In order: there's more than one currently on the DROP, yes, no, you'll find out.

New chapter up (hopefully) this weekend.
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