tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3982478261235957482024-12-18T21:26:35.954-06:00Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-77743067018637591182022-04-14T11:45:00.001-05:002022-04-14T11:45:29.173-05:00

 Welcome to what remains of our once and not-so-future nightmare. Thanks for your interest. We're making this blog available just in case it might hold some interest to those inclined to go poking about in the virtual bones of long-dead projects. This project in particular may only be sleeping, but there's no way to be certain, not until it is too late, as befits something of a hodge-podge

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-13486119181175128662017-02-23T14:04:00.000-06:002017-02-23T14:04:07.011-06:00

The Experiential Spectra of the Known Continua Black Seas of Infinity Gray-Lit Y'Qaa Blue Zones Leng-Nargai Oneirical Lattitudes Violet Abyss Mauve Zone Red Yoth N'Kai

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-68538529673624826592012-06-21T16:45:00.000-05:002012-06-21T16:45:00.229-05:00

"Get the Captain. Now." ----- Interceptscript Compromised Initiate Purge?

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-91783714626690500892012-06-14T09:00:00.000-05:002012-06-14T09:00:01.966-05:00

Interceptscript 11236_Balaoo "Is it the one?" "I think so. Yes. All the signs and indications are positive." "What about Worms?" "No sign of any of that--though it is extensively honeycombed with pockets--" "We expected that--" "Of course. However, it's a lot heavier than we'd counted on. We're going to need help." "Help? I don't like the sound of this." "You won't. I'm sure." "Oh no.

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-13242366498536631632012-06-12T13:33:00.000-05:002012-06-12T13:33:00.140-05:00

Europa is visible on the trailing edge of the angry red mico-star that once was Jupiter. It'll burn out in a few hundred years, leaving a cinder surrounded by a tangled labyrinth of debris. I wonder how the dolphins are faring, now that their reservations on Europa have been compromised by the mycellioids. Our course shifts and I get a view of the colossal fungal colonies extended outwards

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-48660371603495051162012-06-05T09:00:00.000-05:002012-06-05T09:00:06.754-05:00

Mars lies scattered like so much glistening dust and rubble. An avalanche smeared across its former orbital path. Dhole-infested and knitted together by the thin white webs of beings like the Podder Captain in charge of this packet-ship. Arachnoid zealots who believe they are the successors to humanity. They're a relatively new faction. Arose after my last descent into the deep freeze. But

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-81579226022206084512012-05-29T07:00:00.000-05:002012-06-04T14:01:24.984-05:00

The All-Clear signal pulses. It's even more annoying than the General Quarters alarm. I look back out at the tent-like mass receding behind us. No sign of the exchange. Very professional. Something catches my eye. Out past the drop-point, where the strands thin out a bit. There's something moving. We Go Into Lockdown Mode. But it's too late. The Dhole slams into us, but just barely. Systems

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-39201786983184471562012-05-22T07:00:00.000-05:002012-05-22T07:00:10.471-05:00

The General Quarters alarms are still annoying. I let the flowstraps do their thing. We're a lot closer to the fringes of the big silk tent growing around the broken remnants of Mars than we ought to be. It looks less like a cocoon and more like a living, bloated maggot. One with multiple heads. Like the one we seem to be heading towards. Sunlight glints off of the armored casing of a

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-27922409232348780032012-05-19T07:00:00.000-05:002017-02-23T14:04:40.386-06:00

Nobles of the Tsanic Host who maintain holdings across the solar system and beyond utilize a number of traditional vessels, the most common and utilitarian of these is the Kadiphonek Class noted for its spacious interior, impressive manueverability, and durability. Many of the first generation of vessels of this class are still in service thanks to their integrated

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-61079858738727206392012-05-15T11:25:00.000-05:002012-05-15T11:25:00.416-05:00

Fortified and overgrown with War-Domes bulging out like gruesome tumors and bristling with weapons systems, Deimos hangs like an ungainly, misshapen parody of a sentinel above a thick white cloud of strands. I am reminded of Dogpatch from the old plays I watched when I was still alive. Shakespeare is banned now. Lost and forgotten. A 'potentially corruptive influence' that somehow

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-75658490863682335132012-05-08T11:11:00.000-05:002012-05-08T11:11:00.999-05:00

We just passed the check-point beacon. We'd be prepping for atmospheric operations, getting ready to land, if we were going to Mars...and if Mars was still there. But it isn't. Not really. There's just a lot of rocks, an expanding cloud of dust, and the webs. Posthuman hybrids, more arachnid than human any longer, like the Podder's skipper, have taken to stitching together the larger clusters

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-18252675088424056042012-05-08T07:00:00.000-05:002012-05-08T07:00:19.051-05:00

The fourth ampule was a highly unofficial tactical assessment. It summarized the current situation and gave me some idea of what all had happened since I went into the crypt. Things were bad. The Empire had already collapsed back to two-thirds the size it was when I was last active. The Coeleopterans were openly laying siege to the Seven Golden Cities. Exo-solar agitators were believed to be

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-56042368063665335392012-05-01T07:00:00.001-05:002012-05-01T11:54:25.751-05:00

My heavier gear arrived ahead of me. Most of what I was assigned was in fact already on-board my new command. The Quartermaster was a descendant of our old ironmonger, from the old unit, from back on Mars. He insisted on providing me with a few special items. I was't going to tell him no. It would have been disrespectful. There aren't enough of us left from our world to go around killing one

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-67724962041461197892012-04-24T07:00:00.002-05:002012-04-24T07:00:19.974-05:00

The Imperial Presence is represented by a badly tuned holomorph that gets my name wrong. Not that I care overmuch. It's a vintage nanech. Nearly as much an antique as I am. Maybe it's a gesture. Probably it's just another oversight. I don't really pay it much attention anyhow. I'm looking for the Podder-crew and my ride Off-planet. Then I spot them. More vegetable than anything, with clunky

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-46924074451790866142012-04-17T07:00:00.000-05:002012-04-21T08:42:11.836-05:00

Meeting with the Upper Echelon lasted all of 26 seconds. Holograms. I let my background filters catch it and hold it in the buffers. Just in case. Meeting with the Reactivation Inspectorate took longer. They're either getting better at their jobs or my systems are becoming outmoded. Need to make a rendezvous outside the Canopy--no, now we call it the Outer Possessions, even though the Empire

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-26096500881670934282012-04-10T07:00:00.000-05:002012-04-21T08:46:56.046-05:00

I was there when they Dhole-Bombed Mars. My unit was the last to leave. Last to escape. I watched the world die as we were evacced by commandeered Belt-Pods. Our entire fleet was fighting a pointless holding action around Jupiter. Pointless. The Yuggothians, or so we were told, wound up crashing a hyper-accelerated mass of anti-matter right into the heart of the old gas giant. I wonder if

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-90096114940465382462012-04-07T07:00:00.000-05:002012-06-05T13:31:40.078-05:00

Yuggothians are sore losers. When they were forced out of the Solar Possessions during the Third Epiphytical War, the fungal sporehordes of Yuggoth seeded the asteroid belts and other locations with all manner of Nanoeukaryotic monstrosities, many of which lay dormant for decades, even centuries, before sprouting into horrid quasi-life and spreading murder, mayhem and destruction in their wake

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-62264007751306552552012-04-03T07:00:00.002-05:002012-04-17T10:24:14.183-05:00

My Orders came packed within the cold, green serum they used to revive me from the oblivion I had earned in the service to the Tsanish Host, the Immortal Court of the Silver Key, and the Pallid Empress. I didn't need the serum. Not really. But it was protocol and I suspect it allowed the quartermaster to insinuate a few molecular-level fail safes into what passed for my blood

Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-398247826123595748.post-4750721349009052372012-03-31T07:00:00.000-05:002012-06-05T13:32:07.013-05:00

Shoggoths are extremely self-reliant creatures. Originally created as artificial servitors of another species, they have long since become autonomous, having fought several terrible wars upon their makers, the polypous beings of Znand, The Unpossessed Pnakotian Hegemonies, the metal-brains of Abbith, and even some splinter-sect Yithian enclaves as well. Only the Tcho-Tchoids 

Unknownnoreply@blogger.com