starsys 9 story

GAME INTRO SCENE/TRAILER

YOU KNOW IN RPG SOURCEBOOKS THEY ALWAYS HAVE, LIKE, A FICTIONAL STORY THAT SErveS AS AN EXAMPLE OF GAMEPLAY? THIS IS like THAT, written wiht the possibility of being turned into an animated video

An alien planet. Two moons are visible already as a large red sun prepares to kiss the horizon goodnight - copper light still warms the tops of a group of small mountains, or perhaps large hills. Between them, a dark fog pools in one of the shadowed valleys. Purple tinted lightning flashes in the gloom... once, twice; a glowing purple rift opens.

From this portal, a skeletal hand emerges. Slowly, a rotting zombie crawls out, as if from a grave. As it shambles off, a goblin head pokes out, looks around. Before it can come through, a second goblin clambers out over it, getting its fingers up the first goblins nose and stepping on its eye in the process. There is a tussle as each goblin tries to be the first to get all the way out. Then both reach back through and haul out a third goblin, who obviously doesn’t want to leave the rift. While they wrestle, another zombie or two wanders out. The goblins freeze for a moment, staring into the rift. Suddenly the third goblin stops trying to fight his way back in, and all three of them run off into the alien evening. Everything is quiet for a beat. Then an imp flies out of the glowing portal.

About the size of a monkey, the imp has purplish blue skin, red eyes, and a mouth with teeth like a piranha; it flits and hovers on leathery wings like a malevolent humming bird, growling and chittering to itself. As it hovers, a leaf falls behind it. It reacts to the movement like a cat, spinning with a snarl and shooting a small bolt of fire from its clawed hands, incinerating the falling leaf.

A creature somewhat like a large spider emerges from the rift next, with a squid-beak for a head and an inhuman eye the size of a beachball instead of an abdomen. A twig snaps beneath one of its eight legs, and the imp is on it in a flash, shredding and rending and stuffing random handfuls of the flailing thing into its continuously growling mouth.

.....

      On the hilltop, the day’s light still warms a patch of alien forest. A creature like a wolf-sized newt with four eyes and a three-way mouth suns itself on a rock. Nearby, a sickly green mist rises in wisps from something green that just might be a pile of poop. A magnified view shows the mist to be made of microscopic spores that split and multiply as they float through the air. One of these spores floats and bobs before getting sucked into a giant damp vent that, from farther away, turns out to be the slit nostril of the alien newt-thing. It twitches and shudders and climbs down off the rock. Waddling a bit jerkily, it sneezes a few times as it moves through the underbrush to the edge of a meadow. As it goes, it sprouts a couple small patches of spore-mold along its neck and face. Crossing the clearing, it becomes obvious the creature is fighting against something forcing it toward an undesired destination, past a couple of out-of-focus background shapes that might be the bodies of other creatures covered in spore-mold.

      Quivering, the newt-thing stops and looks up, its view sliding past stick-legs, over an abdomen caked in spore-mold like armor made of moss, up into the face of a crouching insectile alien like a giant praying mantis. The two large striking arms bear weapons, a backpack-fed plasma cannon on one side, a chrome warhammer on the other. The mantoid reaches out with a thin third arm and places a claw/hand gently on the newt-things head. Spores flow from mantis to newt. The body language of the newt thing turns from frightened wild animal, to that of a pet happy to see its owner. The mantis lifts its hand from the newt-things head and points.

      At the far edge of the meadow is a signal beacon, like a basketball pole with a transceiver dish instead of a backboard, flashing a small orange light. When the Sporeborn Mantoid points at it, the newt thing springs over and tears it apart playfully, like a dog with a pillow. Satisfied, the Mantoid stands, jetting out several tiny puffs of spores. They convey the Mantoids orders, seeking out the other spore-covered beings in the clearing, a few antmen, some kind of four-winged miniature dragon creature, and a couple species that look related to the newt-thing. They move as a pack, following the mantoid down the hillside, toward the purple tinted storm brewing in the valley below.

.....

      One valley over, music echoes quietly from a slightly beat up Mobile Command Base, perched creakily in the wind on a sheer hillside that shows obvious signs of mining and de-foresting. The MCB looks like somebody attached a clear-cutter combine to a small oil rig, decorated it with pieces of battleship, and stuck the whole thing on a pair of giant tank treads. This one looks as if it has at some point tumbled down a giant set of stairs; stenciled on its battered surface is the Cyberian trademark and model number, some graffiti-style letters and the icon of the Cybernaughts. Hand-painted under all that is the rig’s name: The Grabbyelle.

      Inside, a screen provides an overhead sat-link view of the area, tactical information overlaid in glowing lines and numbers. The image clearly shows the local control zone, with the locations of the signal beacons marked. Suddenly, one of the signal beacon indicators turns to a flashing red ‘x’. The one next to it does the same. When a third signal beacon follows, the whole local control zone flickers and dies, shrinking to a small circle immediately around the MCB. The music shuts off.

“Commander Lin,” says a computer voice “there is a situation, please wake up, Commander Lin”

“Mmm?” a woman’s voice answers, “sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you, Grabby.”

“There is plenty of room on my servers to store you for a nap, Commander.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, ‘Elle. Wanna give me a sit-rep?”

“Yes, Commander: signal beacons 13, 14, and 15 are down, terminating our connection to the nearest gridplex- the local supply field is down, we’re under our own power”

“Again? I think there must be a Queen Bug over that direction. Grabby, what’s my crew doing?”

The screen switches from map to a crew list, a silhouette of each of the nine player character classes next to stats and resource meters.  

“Currently, I am remote commanding your full roster; all nine of them were deployed, but when the supply field failed I walked them back in so they wouldn’t drain their on-board power supply systems. Currently the whole crew is docked in their bunk-lockers, on stand-by for deployment. Would you like to select one to inhabit?”

“Yeah, I gotta go out there. Let’s see, put me in my Sword-walker and give me a dog pack, a full 7 dogs with their custom presets”

“Yes, Commander, initiating download and link now”

.....

      Back in the gloomy valley, the tip of a gigantic tentacle pokes out from the center of the portal. It extends further, waving around in an exploratory way, like the trunk of a blind elephant, then stretches straight down at an angle, touching the ground, and stays there.

      From the rift, using the tentacle as a sort of ramp, dancing two steps forward one step back to unheard music, emerges what could be a man. He is dressed in what could be a cloak or duster, wearing a brimmed hat with small horns, like a little viking’s cowboy hat. It is shadowy and he does a little twirl. It is hard to tell, his skin might be some kind of muted fuchsia. He dismounts the tentacle with a flourish, landing in a frozen position with his arm out while the tentacle withdraws back into the portal, which closes. The imp flits down and lands on the man’s outstretched arm. He dances off into the deepening gloom.

.....

The Sporeborn Fighter commands its spore-supports to take up flanking positions on either side and hold while it charges forward into the next clearing, engaging Commander Lin and her support dogbots. She is a cyborg knight/samurai hybrid - wielding a sword in one hand and a submachine gun in the other. She charges forward with all 7 dogbots, and the Sporeborn Mantoid falls back. And back. When it commands its spore-supports to engage, Commander Lin and her dogbots are caught between them. Two of her dogs die, and she is forced to retreat. The Sporeborn press their attack. Commander Lin continues to retreat over a ridge and down the slope on the other side

Meanwhile, the dancing man is making his way through the area. He sees the two dead dogbots and claps his hands in glee. Dancing along, he comes across a dead spore-support, which makes him similarly gleeful. He sees Commander Lin and the Sporeborn Mantoid fighting, and his dance now incorporates very sudden flowing movements from shadow to shadow, almost teleportation, which he uses to cover ground while remaining un-noticed, working his way around the Sporeborn and Cyberian combatants. He stops and mutters to himself, pointing at the Sporeborn Mantoid. The Mantoid's plasma cannon stops working suddenly, and the Sporeborn warrior shakes it frustratedly, looking around with suspicion. The dancing man laughs silently, and continues on his way, unseen, his demonic imp flitting along malevolently behind him.

It is obvious that battles have been fought here before - all around are piles of bones and armor, shattered carapaces covered in brown and oozing dead spore-mold, heaps of ash with charred body parts poking out... 

"Grabyelle!" Commander Lin yells, while slaying the spore-caked newt-thing.
"Yes, Commander?"
"Call me down a Drop Base!"
"Commander, this will cost more than half your remaining credits."
"I DON'T CARE," Commander Lin uses a shoulder mounted mini-cannon to blast apart a spore-support that has just killed another of her dogbots, tosses a grenade, and sprints backwards. "Grabby, I'm DYING out here! Order a Drop Base to my location RIGHT NOW!"
"Yes, Commander"
Commander Lin is clearly wounded. A pair of her dogbots are almost done finishing off the largest of the spore-support and she orders them to stop and attack the Sporeborn Mantoid. Moving in on the big spore-support, Lin holsters her gun and takes out a device like a robot lobster with a large syringe for a tail, full of a thick liquid that sparkles with nano-bots; it looks like glitter suspended in gel. Blocking a blow with her sword, she leaps forward, plunging the syringe into the base of the large spore-support's skull; the device wraps its legs around the back of the spore-support's head, leg tips sliding under its skin while its tail pumps in the syringe payload. An antenna extends upward from the device, and a light activates. The spore-support twitches and shudders and then turns and begins attacking the other spore-supports.

A terrible whistling sound grows louder and a shape like a giant bullet slams butt-first into the ground Three hooked ground supports unfold from its sides, thudding out into the dirt and anchoring it in place. Commander Lin commands her remaining dogbots into a protective formation, and they guard her while she programs the Drop Base. First she brings the turret at the top online, then she enters a string of digits that begins 3D printing a large mech inside the main chamber of the Drop Base. She turns back to the battle just in time to see the last of her dogs go down.

The dancing man has entered a small clearing in the shape of a suspiciously perfect circle, and he moves toward the middle, imp hovering over his shoulder. At the center is an altar with a candle on it. He dances up to it, and shoots a spark out of one finger, igniting the candle's wick. He takes out a knife, and strikes a pose. His arm shoots out and snatches the imp. In one smooth motion, he brings the imp down to the altar and plunges the knife through its heart, leaving it impaled next to the burning candle. Its blood ignites the runes carved all over the altar's surface. Around the altar, a glowing ball of energy appears, and begins charging, growing larger.

The mech inside the Drop Base is almost done printing. Inside the mech is a small and basic human-sized cyborg. As the double nozzle of the 3D printer finishes finishes, we see it is Commander Lin's face. Outside, Commander Lin is almost dead. All of the spore-supports are dead, but the Mantoid's plasma cannon is working again, and she dodges around struggling to stay alive. A chime like an over timer sounds, and a horizontal rectangle slides open along her forehead. She turns and runs. Her last dogbot sacrifices itself, throwing its body between her and a plasma blast as she sprints for the Drop Base. A large data port folds down from it next to the double doors. Her SwordWalker body is larger than a human's and she slides to her knees, slams her head into the data port, which plugs in like a giant USB. The SwordWalker slumps lifeless and falls away from the Drop Base. Inside, Commander Lin's eye's open, housed in the Battle Mech. The double doors slide open, and she steps the mech out. One side has a large battle axe affixed to an arm that is a gatling gun. The other arm is an RPG launcher with an enormous shield mounted on it. Lin enters an order and the mech hatch opens. The mech raises its shield to protect her while the other arm lays down cover fire. Lin hops out and hastily enters a command on the Drop Base keypad - doors slide shut and it begins printing again. She jumps back in her mech and charges the Sporeborn.

Back by the alter, the glowing ball of energy has grown until it fills the circle. The dancing man takes off the viking cowboy hat, but the horns stay on his head. He tosses the hat, two holes in its brim, to the side. Behind him darkness unfurls as his cloak turns out to be claw-knuckled bat wings. His skin is fuchsia with black fur, his eyes are brightly glowing red embers. He stretches one arm out in front of him, palm down, sharp-nailed fingers spread. His other arm quirks above his head, middle digit pressed to thumb. He smiles with a mouthful of sharp teeth and snaps his fingers.

Purple lightning strikes the altar and unleashes the energy contained in the circle - it bursts outward like a balloon popping. As it explodes over the battlefield it knocks over Lin's Battle Mech as well as the Sporeborn Mantoid. When they recover, they aren't the only ones climbing to their feet. All around them the dead are rising, glowing purple. The zombies shuffle together into a mass of maliciousness, then turn as one and face Lin and the Sporeborn.

Lin swivels the Battle Mech, grabs the Sporeborn warrior, and flings it bodily into the crowd of undead. The Mantoid slams its massive warhammer into the ground, knocking the zombies over. While they stand back up, it crouches and concentrates. Spores rapidly multiply on its skin, bubbling into existence like green popcorn. To one side, the Drop Base dings, and 7 freshly printed dogbots pour out of the doors. On the Mantoid a thick layer of spores rapidly builds up, and then puffs suddenly outward in a cloud. Several of the surrounding undead sprout spore mold and form up around the Mantoid warrior, who screams an alien war cry, facing the rest of the zombies. Their fuchsia-skinned master glides down to the battlefield on lazily flapping wings, purple lightning arcing from the fingers of one hand, summoned fire-sword in the other. The zombies attack, the Sporeborn and its new spore-support crew execute a coordinated defense maneuver, Commander Lin's Battle Mech fires from both arms as her dog bots bound into the fray.

Fade to black...