That might be cool, but the twisty bridges biome doesn't officially exist yet. Having the protag venture to a place like that could result in some retconning if the devs decide to cut it.
That's no skin off my nose. I've had to do a fair bit of minor retcon work already.
Might have to do some crystal-ball gazing and try to get the drop on the Devs... Who have been strangely silent on the whole 'Aurora Falls' business. Generally, at least one takes a peek at whatever topic happens to be on the boil at the moment.
Am I doing something wrong? Am I doing something right?
Im sure theyre reluctant to post anything due to the fact that your story, while awesome in itself, might include details and/or elements that are innacurate as far as their visions of the game im guessing. Also, its possible that while some or ALL of them have read parts or are maybe following your story with interest, may refrain to comment on it as to not influence you, good or badly, on your inspiration hehe. Of course, that doesnt mean youre doing anything wrong with your Fanfiction-made story!
Given the many ''awesome'' you got from the community its a given that its good and we all like it. Hopefully we'll get to keep following your story for quite some time
I reckon I've strayed well off the beaten track, as far as Subnautica's canon lore is concerned.
As long as the Devs don't mind me taking outrageous liberties with their world-frame, I'm a happy little camper.
To be honest, I wouldn't mind a sly whisper every once in a while to keep me pointed in the general direction, although it's just as much fun to simply pick up the ball and run with it.
There was something unsettling about the possibility that Alterra and Torgaljin might be working together on a clandestine project. The fact that it could have involved a STARFISH mining rig pointed the finger directly at Torgaljin Corp, although it would take some serious corporate clout within Alterra to get the device aboard Aurora and authorise a mining expedition, apparently under the cover of a legitimate terraforming operation. This implied an alarming degree of direct collusion between Alterra and Torgaljin, presumably originating somewhere in the upper reaches of the Alterra executive pyramid. The STARFISH device was almost certainly supplied by a Torgaljin source, but how would Alterra stand to profit from this particularly shady arrangement?
Plausible deniability.
Alterra provides a ship large enough to transport STARFISH, and Torgaljin does all of the dirty work.
Alterra's terraforming works erase all traces of the mining operation, STARFISH goes back into storage, and both parties saunter casually away with a mighty muckle o' tax-free profit. Alterra would never publicly admit to using a STARFISH rig, although Torgaljin wouldn't give a second thought to using one on an occupied world, particularly if there was a hefty pay-off on the line...
As far as pretty predicaments go, this one's a doozy.
Sooner or later, either Alterra or Torgaljin would send another expedition to find out what has happened down here. The next ship to arrive would presumably receive the same warm welcome as Aurora, and events would inevitably spiral out of control. Chances are that ship would be loaded to the gunnels with mostly decent and unsuspecting wage-earners, just like myself. To make matters worse, I've got a distress beacon currently squawking its head off, leading anyone who cares to listen straight into an ambush. Even though I've mentioned the threat of being intercepted, it's a fair bet that there's still someone out there who'd be willing to take a chance on making planetfall. I conjure either one of the two 'interested parties' would be more than willing to give it a shot, particularly if they had a clear window to sneak in and do their dirty business before a military rescue ship arrives. In all good conscience, I can't allow that to happen.
My next course of action was to take steps that would make a paranoid Survivalist weep with admiration. All obvious signs of human activity on Pyramid Rock were either buried or obliterated with a Terraformer. The entrance to the island's cave system was completely sealed and surface-finished to resemble the surrounding granite, just in case anyone felt the urge to take a closer look. It would require a pretty decent scanner to detect anything inside the caverns but solid granite. There was only one entrance to the storage facility remaining... And it was guarded by a Reaper.
I call him 'Binky'.
Two more Gen III Cyclops were constructed. One for JUNO, and one for IANTO. Ulysses was also upgraded to Gen III, and the difference was astounding. The new super-cavitating drive delivered a flank speed of 120 knots, assisted by a hull ionization system that reduced hydrodynamic drag by more than 95 per cent. All three Cyclops could slip through the water as silently as eels, or come at you howling like a Reaper. I won't go into any juicy details right now, but there were a few other crucial tweaks made here and there. Nothing particularly obvious, at any rate.
Yes, I am suprised that I haven't seen a wisper from the devs about your amazing story but I do believe they know about it and have been following for sure considering how much of a ruckus you have made. And I also feel like they have taken some of your ideas and have put it into the game, slight story elements such as the PDA boot up in emergency mode reminds me of your story!
Most of the smaller bases definitely had to go. I savoured one final, frosty pitcher on the sundeck of Margaritaville as I watched the sunset, then bent to the lamentable task of deconstructing the base. Now that JUNO had her own Cyclops, christened 'Aegis', she was able to increase her computational power and sensor coverage with complete autonomy, rather than relying upon me to create new bases to house her subsystems. Although IANTO's Cyclops, 'Y Ddraig Goch' (The Red Dragon) was ready to accept his personality core, we had to determine precisely where his true allegiance lay. This was going to be a delicate business, since he was still completely unaware of JUNO's existence.
I have been nursing a difficult decision for the past couple of days. There were only two possible choices to consider, and both paths pointed me in the wrong direction. I could eagerly respond to the message announcing that a Terran rescue ship had arrived to pick up survivors, or shut everything down and keep quiet until they gave up and moved on. My greatest concern was that one of the two Corps might show up before a Terran Defence Force rescue vessel could get here. I'm not entirely convinced that either Corp's first action would be to wrap me in a silver thermal blanket, then solicitously press a mug of hot tea into my poor, trembling Castaway hands.
There could be some pleasantries involved at first, although it wouldn't be too long before someone started asking some mighty awkward questions. If my 'rescuers' visited Aurora at any stage, they might notice a rather large empty space where a certain piece of large mining equipment was supposed to be. I could bluff my way out and say that I used most of the remaining resources to build the base and sundry useful items that I needed to survive... Although then they'd ask to see the major city I should have built using all those materials. They were safely buried inside Pyramid Rock of course, although any excuse I might offer would only hold water until someone asked why I had taken such great pains to conceal the cache in the first place.
'Aesthetic reasons' doesn't cut it.
This is The Castaway's grand dilemma: "Do I run to greet the pirates, or hide from the cannibals?"
Ultimately, I concluded that those pirates might also be cannibals, and laid plans accordingly.
Reef Base was prepared as an initial point of contact. If all went well, this base would be seen as nothing more than a cosy place to welcome a rescue team with tea and dumplings, assuming that they could actually make a safe landing. As a contingency plan, I constructed a fall-back position 500 metres down a sheer drop-off in the deep Grand Reef biome. 'The Broch' was intended to serve as my emergency bolt-hole, and it would see action if events took a particularly interesting turn. This base was isolated, secure and effectively undetectable, since the habitat modules, Cyclops sub pens and their launch tunnels were constructed inside an immense cavity excavated from solid basalt. The only apparent access point was well-concealed and barely wide enough to admit a Seamoth. This structure would register as an apparently blank trench wall when pinged with high-definition sonar, although it would be a grave tactical error for a hostile sub to 'go active' anywhere near The Broch.
Suffice it to say; I have paid particular attention to addressing that issue.
The only item of business left outstanding was Pod 5. Now that each of my bases are equipped with proper Waste Management Modules and bioreactors as emergency power units, there was no need to keep using my trusty Lifepod as an outdoor loo. However, I was more interested in the Valkyrie Field that Pod 5 contained. This was my ace in the hole, so to speak. I conjured that things might take a messy turn at some stage, particularly if the wrong crowd turned up on my doorstep. As an aside, do you have any idea how difficult it is to completely submerge a Lifepod without wrecking it? It took me almost an entire coffee break to figure out how to do it. Gravspheres.
are you referring to a WoW achievement called 'the cake is a lie'? or similar or one called 'binky' or 'Torgaljin'?
There was a WoW achievement "The cake is NOT a lie" for baking a cake made from rather rare ingredients, like certain eggs. Since I had nothing better to do at that time, I camped those creatures for an afternoon.
I lay on my back, floating idly and watching the clouds roll by. No air tanks, no weapons. At any moment, something might shoot up from the depths and seize my body like a rag doll, shaking the life out of me in a welter of blood and frenzied, purely instinctive violence. I was completely unconcerned. This probability was within the nature of the game I played now. Since my first days on Manannán, I have lived with the taste of fear always in my mouth. Flinching at shadows, cowering with dread in the face of every minor setback, always hiding from the inevitable. That life ends, here and now.
For all intents and purposes, the concept of death has become entirely meaningless to me. The only things that I still vaguely feared were its myriad agencies, and even their hold over me was dwindling away to nothing with the passage of time. Simply explained, the floating game was my way of preparing myself for an unknown sequence of events that may not even occur. All I knew at this time was that I was effectively unprepared for whatever may come, until I could face the certainty of my own demise entirely without fear. This was neither Zen or Bushido. It was merely... Necessary.
The sea had become appreciably warmer over the past few weeks. I was seeing cumulus clouds gather and merge into ominous thunderheads on a daily basis now; always expecting them to develop into a cataclysmic storm within the space of minutes. The promised tempest never came, although I knew that it was out there somewhere, biding its time. The weather station installed at Reef Base was a new feature, its blueprints recently retrieved from Aurora's technical treasure hoard. I consulted its readings faithfully before setting out each day, half-expecting to see the first signs of a hurricane forming on the radar display. It was almost as if I were willing it to appear. At a depth of 50 metres, Reef Base was perfectly safe from anything but the most phenomenal weather conditions, due to its location on the lee side of an atoll. The base's low-profile design and hull integrity rating have been engineered to withstand heavy sea states, although any seismic sea wave over 20 metres in height might be a reasonable cause for concern.
Three days later, the storm arrived. I was halfway through my second helping of Eggs Benedict when JUNO appeared by my side.
"Captain, weather radar has detected a large low-pressure system with a pronounced rotational component bearing 121 degrees, distance 75 kilometres. Ocean surface temperature is currently 27.2 degrees Celsius, wind speed at 25 knots, gusting to 40 knots and rising. There is a 96.2 per cent probability that this weather pattern will develop into a Category 4 or Category 5 cyclone sometime within the next three hours. Base status: Condition Yellow. All external hatches and internal corridor bulkheads are sealed, base is now secured for severe weather conditions."
"Thank you, JUNO. Please retract the primary sensor mast and deploy a weather sonde. I definitely want to keep a watch on this one. It looks like a right foul beast, even to my untutored eye."
"Weather sonde launched. Telemetry feed is now active, Captain."
The display revealed a sullen grey-green sky, shot through with periodic flashes of sheet lightning. Towering white cumulonimbus clouds formed the vanguard of the advancing storm, driven onward like a relentless cavalry charge. Rising winds tugged hungrily at the surface of the ocean, teasing once-sluggish waves into streaks of foam. White horses soon gave way to ponderous green rollers, obliterating the topside view with sheets of blinding spray as the leading edge of the cyclone passed directly overhead. I sat in watchful silence, cast adrift on my own sea of turbulent thoughts.
The idea of pyramid rock hiding the parts of the starfish somewhat reminds me of that transformer episode where they find a giant death ray thingie in the Egyption pyramid...
hey im working on a story too! I have 23 words so far. Its called Aurora. I swear I did not copy off of you, I started a year ago. I just posted a comment on whether or not it would break copyright laws if I published it, or if I would have to get an approval.
I am reading this slightly tipsy after a night out, think I need to be sober to get the full awesomeness (having to re-read every 3rd word isn't helping), but still excellent.....
I am reading this slightly tipsy after a night out, think I need to be sober to get the full awesomeness (having to re-read every 3rd word isn't helping), but still excellent.....
btw, you should probably try and publish Aurora Falls. Its really good.
That wouldn't be possible without full permission from unknown worlds and I doubt that they would allow Bugzapper any profits made if they did. All proceeds would likely go to them. Though the devs have been unexpectedly nice so who know. Still a unlikely scenario though.
Genetic manipulation/artificial evolution of offensive units designed to cleanse threats efficiently and on a possibly massively organized scale as implied by the Biter's odd behaviors a few chapters back. Might there be a link to the Khaara you're intending to construct, Zappy? I'm surprised your character hasn't picked up on the similarities since he knows of the Khaara business.
This is amazingly enchanting. I have never been so mesmerized by a piece of literature (although Jurassic Park is a close second). It is so creatively unique and nuanced, and I do hope this fan-fic can satisfy other people as it has me. When it said that the fauna evolved in a span of decades/centuries I had to re-read it to understand what JUNO was saying. I wonder if humanity will ever achieve this level of technology. If they are genetically manufactured, that would explain the near-absence of large prey. Just if I'm not being clear enough- AMAZING FANFIC
The storm raged overhead for ten straight hours. There was nothing else to be done, other than sit tight and wait it out. Fifty metres down, the cyclone had lost most of its destructive power and struggled fitfully to make its presence known. The base modules creaked and groaned whenever a particularly large wave passed overhead, temporarily adding its mass to the considerable volume of water already pressing down on the entire structure. It was almost soothing in a way, although I could imagine the terror those same sounds would evoke in anyone foolish enough to 'shave the numbers' in designing a substantially less secure structure. The ocean does not forgive incompetence. It feeds upon it.
Once I had determined that Reef Base was in no immediate danger, I spent most of the time asleep. There was nothing of immediate interest stored in my PDA entertainment library, so it seemed like a good time to catch up on some solid rest while there was still an opportunity to do so. My mood had lightened somewhat since the cyclone's arrival, although it may have been mostly relief at expecting a storm of Asgardian magnitude, but getting moderately heavy drizzle instead. It was still very early days as far as Manannán's heavy weather season was concerned, although there would almost certainly be far worse conditions to come in the months ahead.
I thought it best to remain buttoned up in Reef Base for at least a couple of days after the cyclone had passed. Back on Terra, tropical storms eventually burn themselves out shortly after making landfall. On Manannán, there was very little solid ground to short-circuit the progress of a cyclonic cell, meaning that it would keep soaking up as much oceanic heat and atmospheric moisture as possible, growing stronger and deadlier with each passing hour. It wouldn't be entirely unreasonable to expect that cyclone to double back on its course, either. Land-wise, there's practically nothing here to stop them. To be on the safe side, I launched weather sondes at dawn and sunset to keep track of the local weather situation. It would have been far more effective to have a proper satellite network constantly monitoring the planet from orbit, but I can't risk dusting off my old DIY space program, particularly at this crucial point.
If I am about to receive some unwelcome visitors, the very last thing that I want them to know is precisely how well established I am down here. Advanced technology tends to announce its presence loudly and obnoxiously, especially if you know what signs to look for. Bioreactors, geothermal plants and solar panels may not be nearly as efficient as nukes, although they do have the virtue of modesty in their favour. They do not jump up and down on someone's sensor displays with their willies hanging out, drawing unwanted attention from potentially unfriendly eyes.
I think you know what I mean.
There was a strong suspicion that I'd missed something important back at either one of the derelict bases. Now that it was relatively safe to resume normal operations again, I headed out to Kaori-san no-shima and the Jelly Shroom Cave to pick over the Magellan expedition's bases one more time. I'd been far too concerned about having to fight off critters to make a decent job of it back then, so there was a fairly good chance I'd find something significant this time around.
My search of the base structures on Kaori-san no-shima yielded a few new surprises, not the least of which was a tasty edible fruit that I dubbed a 'marblemelon'. I found them growing in one of the planter trays beside the base, along with a vegetable that had definite promise as a fresh food ingredient. Although the automated galley could provide almost any dish I could think of, there was always an unavoidable realization that the dish was composed of reconstructed fish protein and Creepvine. Although I'm certain that the nutritional value of galley-synthesised food is more than adequate for anyone's needs, the addition of some fresh produce would make a most welcome change. I scanned the planter trays to obtain a blueprint for their construction, even though they were literally nothing more than shallow, open-topped boxes filled with a synthetic growth medium. It was safe to assume that they'd be a pain to fabricate entirely from scratch using titanium sheet from salvaged hull panels, so I fully appreciated this handy little shortcut.
It took quite a while to sift through the wreckage of the primary base on the island. There were also two elevated observation posts that I had completely missed during my initial investigation. It had simply never occurred to me to look up occasionally as I travelled around the island. Too busy keeping watch for Crawlers lurking in the undergrowth, I guess. A genuine mistake. As it transpired, the posts were a fair hike up two peaks located at opposite ends of the island's extremities, so this day's expedition turned out to be a decent workout for the old cardiovascular system. The first post was entirely devoid of anything useful and accordingly, my language during the descent acquired a rather salty tone. Not happy. I took a breather for a couple of hours, then set off to examine the second observation post.
Just as well that I did. There was another PDA tucked away in a dark corner of the hab. This one belonged to Rhys Powell, and it contained some rather interesting information. Apart from its ten-strong science team, the Magellan expedition also played host to a couple of VIPs and their two-person security detail. Most significantly, they were Torgaljin VIPs. No less than the CEO and his son, in fact. That's the closest thing you'll get to Belter aristocracy. It appears that there was an incident during their first couple of days on the planet, and one of the Torgaljin hired hands came off second best in an argument with a Stalker. Powell was rather thrifty with the details, so I can only assume that he wasn't actually on the scene when it happened.
My curiosity was piqued. It was entirely unprecedented for any Torgaljin executive to stray too far from The Belt, and having an actual CEO 'roughing it' with a planetary survey team on a frontier planet seemed to defy all rational explanation. The only plausible scenarios I could think of involved all kinds of Machiavellian business back in The Belt, personal indiscretions or other internal strife. Only one other possibility presented itself, and this was the most ominous theory to date. Torgaljin Corp already held absolute monopoly on commerce in Sol's asteroid belt, Jupiter and the Oort Cloud. This meant that Torgaljin Corp was effectively the only game in town, at least as far as starship fuel, water and mineral resources were concerned. Alterra Corp was primarily concerned with manufacturing, so it would be easy to imagine a natural synergy already existing between the Corps.
Bearing this in mind, my first thought was that Torgaljin (and quite possibly, Alterra) had plans to establish Manannán as the homeworld of a fledgling interstellar empire. This seemed highly likely. Manannán was far enough from the Sol system to make Terran law enforcement problematic, and the star system had more than enough natural resources to make the whole proposition worthwhile.
It didn't take much mental effort to see how both Corps would benefit from this arrangement.
Comments
That's no skin off my nose. I've had to do a fair bit of minor retcon work already.
Might have to do some crystal-ball gazing and try to get the drop on the Devs... Who have been strangely silent on the whole 'Aurora Falls' business. Generally, at least one takes a peek at whatever topic happens to be on the boil at the moment.
Am I doing something wrong? Am I doing something right?
Who knows?
Given the many ''awesome'' you got from the community its a given that its good and we all like it. Hopefully we'll get to keep following your story for quite some time
As long as the Devs don't mind me taking outrageous liberties with their world-frame, I'm a happy little camper.
To be honest, I wouldn't mind a sly whisper every once in a while to keep me pointed in the general direction, although it's just as much fun to simply pick up the ball and run with it.
There was something unsettling about the possibility that Alterra and Torgaljin might be working together on a clandestine project. The fact that it could have involved a STARFISH mining rig pointed the finger directly at Torgaljin Corp, although it would take some serious corporate clout within Alterra to get the device aboard Aurora and authorise a mining expedition, apparently under the cover of a legitimate terraforming operation. This implied an alarming degree of direct collusion between Alterra and Torgaljin, presumably originating somewhere in the upper reaches of the Alterra executive pyramid. The STARFISH device was almost certainly supplied by a Torgaljin source, but how would Alterra stand to profit from this particularly shady arrangement?
Plausible deniability.
Alterra provides a ship large enough to transport STARFISH, and Torgaljin does all of the dirty work.
Alterra's terraforming works erase all traces of the mining operation, STARFISH goes back into storage, and both parties saunter casually away with a mighty muckle o' tax-free profit. Alterra would never publicly admit to using a STARFISH rig, although Torgaljin wouldn't give a second thought to using one on an occupied world, particularly if there was a hefty pay-off on the line...
As far as pretty predicaments go, this one's a doozy.
Sooner or later, either Alterra or Torgaljin would send another expedition to find out what has happened down here. The next ship to arrive would presumably receive the same warm welcome as Aurora, and events would inevitably spiral out of control. Chances are that ship would be loaded to the gunnels with mostly decent and unsuspecting wage-earners, just like myself. To make matters worse, I've got a distress beacon currently squawking its head off, leading anyone who cares to listen straight into an ambush. Even though I've mentioned the threat of being intercepted, it's a fair bet that there's still someone out there who'd be willing to take a chance on making planetfall. I conjure either one of the two 'interested parties' would be more than willing to give it a shot, particularly if they had a clear window to sneak in and do their dirty business before a military rescue ship arrives. In all good conscience, I can't allow that to happen.
My next course of action was to take steps that would make a paranoid Survivalist weep with admiration. All obvious signs of human activity on Pyramid Rock were either buried or obliterated with a Terraformer. The entrance to the island's cave system was completely sealed and surface-finished to resemble the surrounding granite, just in case anyone felt the urge to take a closer look. It would require a pretty decent scanner to detect anything inside the caverns but solid granite. There was only one entrance to the storage facility remaining... And it was guarded by a Reaper.
I call him 'Binky'.
Two more Gen III Cyclops were constructed. One for JUNO, and one for IANTO. Ulysses was also upgraded to Gen III, and the difference was astounding. The new super-cavitating drive delivered a flank speed of 120 knots, assisted by a hull ionization system that reduced hydrodynamic drag by more than 95 per cent. All three Cyclops could slip through the water as silently as eels, or come at you howling like a Reaper. I won't go into any juicy details right now, but there were a few other crucial tweaks made here and there. Nothing particularly obvious, at any rate.
I remember a WoW achievement of the name. :-) Took me hours to farm those darn eggs. Those were fun times, although it seems like an eternity away.
are you referring to a WoW achievement called 'the cake is a lie'? or similar or one called 'binky' or 'Torgaljin'?
I have been nursing a difficult decision for the past couple of days. There were only two possible choices to consider, and both paths pointed me in the wrong direction. I could eagerly respond to the message announcing that a Terran rescue ship had arrived to pick up survivors, or shut everything down and keep quiet until they gave up and moved on. My greatest concern was that one of the two Corps might show up before a Terran Defence Force rescue vessel could get here. I'm not entirely convinced that either Corp's first action would be to wrap me in a silver thermal blanket, then solicitously press a mug of hot tea into my poor, trembling Castaway hands.
There could be some pleasantries involved at first, although it wouldn't be too long before someone started asking some mighty awkward questions. If my 'rescuers' visited Aurora at any stage, they might notice a rather large empty space where a certain piece of large mining equipment was supposed to be. I could bluff my way out and say that I used most of the remaining resources to build the base and sundry useful items that I needed to survive... Although then they'd ask to see the major city I should have built using all those materials. They were safely buried inside Pyramid Rock of course, although any excuse I might offer would only hold water until someone asked why I had taken such great pains to conceal the cache in the first place.
'Aesthetic reasons' doesn't cut it.
This is The Castaway's grand dilemma: "Do I run to greet the pirates, or hide from the cannibals?"
Ultimately, I concluded that those pirates might also be cannibals, and laid plans accordingly.
Reef Base was prepared as an initial point of contact. If all went well, this base would be seen as nothing more than a cosy place to welcome a rescue team with tea and dumplings, assuming that they could actually make a safe landing. As a contingency plan, I constructed a fall-back position 500 metres down a sheer drop-off in the deep Grand Reef biome. 'The Broch' was intended to serve as my emergency bolt-hole, and it would see action if events took a particularly interesting turn. This base was isolated, secure and effectively undetectable, since the habitat modules, Cyclops sub pens and their launch tunnels were constructed inside an immense cavity excavated from solid basalt. The only apparent access point was well-concealed and barely wide enough to admit a Seamoth. This structure would register as an apparently blank trench wall when pinged with high-definition sonar, although it would be a grave tactical error for a hostile sub to 'go active' anywhere near The Broch.
Suffice it to say; I have paid particular attention to addressing that issue.
The only item of business left outstanding was Pod 5. Now that each of my bases are equipped with proper Waste Management Modules and bioreactors as emergency power units, there was no need to keep using my trusty Lifepod as an outdoor loo. However, I was more interested in the Valkyrie Field that Pod 5 contained. This was my ace in the hole, so to speak. I conjured that things might take a messy turn at some stage, particularly if the wrong crowd turned up on my doorstep. As an aside, do you have any idea how difficult it is to completely submerge a Lifepod without wrecking it? It took me almost an entire coffee break to figure out how to do it. Gravspheres.
Only for narrative purposes, I'm afraid.
There was a WoW achievement "The cake is NOT a lie" for baking a cake made from rather rare ingredients, like certain eggs. Since I had nothing better to do at that time, I camped those creatures for an afternoon.
For all intents and purposes, the concept of death has become entirely meaningless to me. The only things that I still vaguely feared were its myriad agencies, and even their hold over me was dwindling away to nothing with the passage of time. Simply explained, the floating game was my way of preparing myself for an unknown sequence of events that may not even occur. All I knew at this time was that I was effectively unprepared for whatever may come, until I could face the certainty of my own demise entirely without fear. This was neither Zen or Bushido. It was merely... Necessary.
The sea had become appreciably warmer over the past few weeks. I was seeing cumulus clouds gather and merge into ominous thunderheads on a daily basis now; always expecting them to develop into a cataclysmic storm within the space of minutes. The promised tempest never came, although I knew that it was out there somewhere, biding its time. The weather station installed at Reef Base was a new feature, its blueprints recently retrieved from Aurora's technical treasure hoard. I consulted its readings faithfully before setting out each day, half-expecting to see the first signs of a hurricane forming on the radar display. It was almost as if I were willing it to appear. At a depth of 50 metres, Reef Base was perfectly safe from anything but the most phenomenal weather conditions, due to its location on the lee side of an atoll. The base's low-profile design and hull integrity rating have been engineered to withstand heavy sea states, although any seismic sea wave over 20 metres in height might be a reasonable cause for concern.
Three days later, the storm arrived. I was halfway through my second helping of Eggs Benedict when JUNO appeared by my side.
"Captain, weather radar has detected a large low-pressure system with a pronounced rotational component bearing 121 degrees, distance 75 kilometres. Ocean surface temperature is currently 27.2 degrees Celsius, wind speed at 25 knots, gusting to 40 knots and rising. There is a 96.2 per cent probability that this weather pattern will develop into a Category 4 or Category 5 cyclone sometime within the next three hours. Base status: Condition Yellow. All external hatches and internal corridor bulkheads are sealed, base is now secured for severe weather conditions."
"Thank you, JUNO. Please retract the primary sensor mast and deploy a weather sonde. I definitely want to keep a watch on this one. It looks like a right foul beast, even to my untutored eye."
"Weather sonde launched. Telemetry feed is now active, Captain."
The display revealed a sullen grey-green sky, shot through with periodic flashes of sheet lightning. Towering white cumulonimbus clouds formed the vanguard of the advancing storm, driven onward like a relentless cavalry charge. Rising winds tugged hungrily at the surface of the ocean, teasing once-sluggish waves into streaks of foam. White horses soon gave way to ponderous green rollers, obliterating the topside view with sheets of blinding spray as the leading edge of the cyclone passed directly overhead. I sat in watchful silence, cast adrift on my own sea of turbulent thoughts.
lol
That wouldn't be possible without full permission from unknown worlds and I doubt that they would allow Bugzapper any profits made if they did. All proceeds would likely go to them. Though the devs have been unexpectedly nice so who know. Still a unlikely scenario though.
Patience.
All will be revealed unto ye in the fullness of time, Son of Aldrin.
One of the December 2015 pages touches upon this very subject.
Once I had determined that Reef Base was in no immediate danger, I spent most of the time asleep. There was nothing of immediate interest stored in my PDA entertainment library, so it seemed like a good time to catch up on some solid rest while there was still an opportunity to do so. My mood had lightened somewhat since the cyclone's arrival, although it may have been mostly relief at expecting a storm of Asgardian magnitude, but getting moderately heavy drizzle instead. It was still very early days as far as Manannán's heavy weather season was concerned, although there would almost certainly be far worse conditions to come in the months ahead.
I thought it best to remain buttoned up in Reef Base for at least a couple of days after the cyclone had passed. Back on Terra, tropical storms eventually burn themselves out shortly after making landfall. On Manannán, there was very little solid ground to short-circuit the progress of a cyclonic cell, meaning that it would keep soaking up as much oceanic heat and atmospheric moisture as possible, growing stronger and deadlier with each passing hour. It wouldn't be entirely unreasonable to expect that cyclone to double back on its course, either. Land-wise, there's practically nothing here to stop them. To be on the safe side, I launched weather sondes at dawn and sunset to keep track of the local weather situation. It would have been far more effective to have a proper satellite network constantly monitoring the planet from orbit, but I can't risk dusting off my old DIY space program, particularly at this crucial point.
If I am about to receive some unwelcome visitors, the very last thing that I want them to know is precisely how well established I am down here. Advanced technology tends to announce its presence loudly and obnoxiously, especially if you know what signs to look for. Bioreactors, geothermal plants and solar panels may not be nearly as efficient as nukes, although they do have the virtue of modesty in their favour. They do not jump up and down on someone's sensor displays with their willies hanging out, drawing unwanted attention from potentially unfriendly eyes.
I think you know what I mean.
There was a strong suspicion that I'd missed something important back at either one of the derelict bases. Now that it was relatively safe to resume normal operations again, I headed out to Kaori-san no-shima and the Jelly Shroom Cave to pick over the Magellan expedition's bases one more time. I'd been far too concerned about having to fight off critters to make a decent job of it back then, so there was a fairly good chance I'd find something significant this time around.
It took quite a while to sift through the wreckage of the primary base on the island. There were also two elevated observation posts that I had completely missed during my initial investigation. It had simply never occurred to me to look up occasionally as I travelled around the island. Too busy keeping watch for Crawlers lurking in the undergrowth, I guess. A genuine mistake. As it transpired, the posts were a fair hike up two peaks located at opposite ends of the island's extremities, so this day's expedition turned out to be a decent workout for the old cardiovascular system. The first post was entirely devoid of anything useful and accordingly, my language during the descent acquired a rather salty tone. Not happy. I took a breather for a couple of hours, then set off to examine the second observation post.
Just as well that I did. There was another PDA tucked away in a dark corner of the hab. This one belonged to Rhys Powell, and it contained some rather interesting information. Apart from its ten-strong science team, the Magellan expedition also played host to a couple of VIPs and their two-person security detail. Most significantly, they were Torgaljin VIPs. No less than the CEO and his son, in fact. That's the closest thing you'll get to Belter aristocracy. It appears that there was an incident during their first couple of days on the planet, and one of the Torgaljin hired hands came off second best in an argument with a Stalker. Powell was rather thrifty with the details, so I can only assume that he wasn't actually on the scene when it happened.
My curiosity was piqued. It was entirely unprecedented for any Torgaljin executive to stray too far from The Belt, and having an actual CEO 'roughing it' with a planetary survey team on a frontier planet seemed to defy all rational explanation. The only plausible scenarios I could think of involved all kinds of Machiavellian business back in The Belt, personal indiscretions or other internal strife. Only one other possibility presented itself, and this was the most ominous theory to date. Torgaljin Corp already held absolute monopoly on commerce in Sol's asteroid belt, Jupiter and the Oort Cloud. This meant that Torgaljin Corp was effectively the only game in town, at least as far as starship fuel, water and mineral resources were concerned. Alterra Corp was primarily concerned with manufacturing, so it would be easy to imagine a natural synergy already existing between the Corps.
Bearing this in mind, my first thought was that Torgaljin (and quite possibly, Alterra) had plans to establish Manannán as the homeworld of a fledgling interstellar empire. This seemed highly likely. Manannán was far enough from the Sol system to make Terran law enforcement problematic, and the star system had more than enough natural resources to make the whole proposition worthwhile.
It didn't take much mental effort to see how both Corps would benefit from this arrangement.