[ACRO/Town/Whatever] SPACE [Plot]

[Chaotic Bob]

Beyond the atmospheres of worlds lies a vast, empty space.

Technically speaking, calling it empty is a lie. It is full of many other planets, asteroids, comets, radiation, dust, but for practical purposes, much of it is empty.

An amusing side effect of space's emptiness/vacuum is also the distinct lack of air or heat.
Don't appear here without some means of preserving yourself.
You will suffocate.

And you will die.

Or, you will freeze to death.

If you travel up beyond your planet properly equipped (say, with a ship or some variety of space-suit) you will likely find yourself extremely bored, unless you intend to travel somewhere or enjoy solitude.

Welcome to the cradle that holds all of Material Creation.

[Chaotic Bob]

The emptiness within this particular solar system remains, by all appearances, empty.
But something is filtering in, similar to the invisible radiation that is always present.

From outside the orbit of the farthest planet, waves of negative energy are flowing in and around the planets, towards the center, towards the one planet that matters here, the rock which supports the Town and several Nexus locations. Or sometimes supports locations, since they seem prone to change now and then.

For the time being, these waves of energy are thin and weak, at least near the center. This planet is not truly suffering, most do not even know anything is happening.
Near the outer rim, the waves are more fierce, but still not outright lethal.


Even further out, following the source of the waves, towards their growing strength, there drifts a moon.
A somewhat small moon, but it appears gray and generally rock-like.

But rather than ordinary space-rock, it appears to be fossilized material of some sort. And as it drifts, and light from certain nearby stars reflects off its surface, some of the craters seems to produce an oddly familiar shape...

Closer and closer to the solar system, drifting at a calm, patient pace.

[Fan]

[Ground Level]

The fuse within starts to burn, the initial charge for the Defensars Harmonic Core, the jump start that would signal the beginning of an internal power that dwarfed the stars themselves. Dante's hands tensed around the pilot's controls in the cockpit, sweat beaded his brow like fresh morning dew, droplets plopping down onto the seat. It wasn't that he was nervous, or that he had exhausted himself. It was that he was so damn excited. The blood pumping through his veins, the way his body shook with anticipation.. and most of all that maddening smile, the look of a predator in his eyes as he gazed up at the maleficent moon that glowered with it's aura of darkness down on them like some sort of exceptionally emo natural satellite.

George below was similarly anxious, but for different reasons, he was a practical man before all else, and he was running numbers through his head, all the while planning to keep his career as a racer once this was over.. maybe even win the cup... but he would need money... this damn goverment types better pay what they owed.

Sammie at the bottom was completely cool, and was in fact laying back. She had done everything already. Unlike the two above who had waited to be in the cockpit to make prepartions. The veritable Batman of the group. Sammie merely smiled, knowing everything would go according to plan somehow.

Then the rumbling began, gouts of fire that would make Hell blush erupting from the connected machine, all three main rockets throwing the machine untowards the heavens, the drill at the bottom spinning, spinning, spinning!

Ryoma initiated the first detachment phase, throwing off the bulky exit rockets as they hit the outer thermosphere, having torn through clouds like so much fluff, and radiation shielding keeping them well away from that damnable cosmic radiant energy.. then they saw it.

A blue, and green magnificent sphere spread out below them, the towering sphere's slightly visible, along with the mechanical sprawl of Inside that seemed to grasp towards them... then.. the breathtaking view of space. Without the city lights to dampen them, the 3 natives to the Sphere's beheld the stars in their truest form. As no native to their world had ever before, the first three to break that final frontier each gazed in amazement at this natural beauty. These twinkling dots of light that told them of the sheer vastness of space, and the elegant velvet darkness that enveloped all else.. then.. the rockets course turned to it's intended course, it's view centering on Atropus.

What they beheld was a monstrous thing, made out of fossilized human, and god knows what else, bone.. the aura of dark negative energy, and Atropals hugging it tightly like some sort of sick mockery of a mother's embrace.

With this, memories flashed in each of their minds, of the people at the Outpost that had died, of the images of the sick, and elderly dead in the streets, and of the general people's fate.

Dante then slid the ignition forward, shooting them at full thrust towards the monster, a wordless expression of manic.. GLEE on his face, that same predatory gleam in his eyes, and that same smile.. but something about him just seemed so happy... it was disturbing.

[atomic_bear]

"All right you two, here's the plan: I've got half a dozen nuclear warheads on board Defensar Three which need to be planted in select areas on and in that thing. Trouble is, I can't do that and defend myself at the same time, so I need the both of you to cover my back while I'm working.

Sammie cued up a graphic, relaying it to the others as she quickly briefed them.

"Our first target is here on this ridge. We don't know the response the enemy is capable of, so you two need to stay alert and work together. I can clear the work area with D3's heavy weapons, but once I start drilling to plant the warhead I'll be immobile. Remember that because none of us can afford to get separated. You two got that?"

[Chaotic Bob]

In the distance, the ship's target drifted towards the planet at an almost leisurely pace.

It would be moving faster, rushing in for the kill, wipe the life off of that filthy rock, but there were threats, potential dangers. It needed time to assess a proper means of removing them, or nullifying them, while at the same time keeping up the pressure.
So it advanced slowly, rather than quickly or not at all.

So distracted with this plotting, it did not even notice the ship approaching it until the life-energy within finally glowed clearly.
By then, the entities drifting around it's being in numbers enough to resemble a perversion of an electron cloud about an atom began to assemble themselves at the moonlet's forefront.
On it's surface, other being's, some less, some more foul than the atropals above squirmed and writhed, sensing prey.

Atropus itself rotated slightly.
Now facing the approaching heroes, two great vertical fields of some obsidian-esque material and a great horizontal rift slashed into the lower half of the moonlet, almost vaguely resembling a howling mouth.
It would view those that challenged it so prematurely.

The cloud of atropals before it, responding to their master's wish, cluster together in preparation, all whispering the same fell chant, words that will be lost to the void of space, but nonetheless carry a dark meaning.

They are defenders and they are prepared.

[Fan]

"Point defenses activate! Gatling's to manual, all missile bays open, and prime!

A joystick popped out of a compartment near Dante's right hand, and cross hair's rose to meet them in the viewport of the Defensar 1, the rocket then open up displaying what made it so dangerous, that it was literally bristling with missile ports, gatling guns, plasma torpedo launchers, and plasma launchers. Each of them unloaded into the crowd as the variable formation Defensar shifted into Defensar 3, allowing the technician and the Drill to be the cone of the ship which would pierce through this suffocating crowd of atropals. Negative energy permated the very AIR outside the ship, but the hull had been built out a celestial metal, provided oh so kindly by the Empire of Inside, and these angellic steel had been refined in the more advanced blast furnaces of the Liberated Kingdoms. No, there would be no life sucking energies inside the cockpit of the Defensar. Not today, and likely, not ever.

Thousands of warhead bearing missiles exploded from the hull of the ship, tracing the dancing atropals in spiraling patterns, each finding their mark with a cacaphonic BOOM! as the scatter warheads blew. Each caused a carpet of silver balls to shoot out, piercing through undead hide, and tearing through organs as each was met with thousands more of these tiny silver balls. They had come expecting such a thing, and had brought firepower to compensate. After all, who the hell did you think they were? This machine was the perfect work of two nation's that had evolved on completely different tracks, and each of these nations had done their best to outfit this killing machine to stop a moon, and damn. Did they pull through.

(Note, they did not jettison the solid fuel containers for a reason, meaning that there is quite a bit of Defensar to go around.)

[Chaotic Bob]

The cloud of enormous stillborn godlings immediately begins to spread out in the empty space, as the missiles and alternative projectiles flare out to do their deadly work.
There are many (re)casualties, to be sure, but there are many atropals willing to fill in the gaps.

Uncaring for any defenses the shuttle may have, a significant portion of the horde begins launching massive volleys of the whatever elemental force happens to strike their fancy at the moment, whether to intercept missiles or the shuttle.
Fireballs. Lightning. Enormous ice shards.
By the laws of science, such things should be unsustainable in space, at least simply, but they are procured regardless, plucked forth from the elemental regions of Existence.

The rest of the swarm proceeds to disregard everything else and simply charge the shuttle, first positioning themselves in various locations in it's path, then rushing forwards.
Many will die, perhaps, but they do not possess insignificant mass. They carry force with their charges.

Beyond them, the Dead Moon passively watches, taking in what information it needs to.

[atomic_bear]

Sam couldn't help but grin as the Defensar barreled into the swarm of unliving things. All the work was playing of; all the theories, all the experiments, all the sweat, blood, ink and tears were all right here in front of her, ploughing through an unending horde of nightmares like they weren't there, diving toward the first target point like a the man-made meteor it was.
Noting the onrush of enemies and the flood of energy unleashed at them, Sam went to work.
"Try not to use up all the missiles before we get there, dumbass. Switch to the Phalanx cannons while I clear us a path."
Running her hands across the banks of switches that regulated power, Sam powered up the business end of Defensar 3. The thick, blunt-ended capsule, now on the front of the combined robot-ship, split apart and began to rotate in multiple directions, projecting a protective field around the body of the craft even as the front became a whirling riot of metal and energy. As intended, Defensar 3 was a drill; not a single spiral auger but a horrifying counter-rotating mining drill, ripping and eating away at anything in front of it with lashing energy and rending teeth. This was a drill designed to tear through planets; it would suffice to clear its own path to the target.
"Now get out of the way, you monsters. I'm coming for your master's heart."

[Chaotic Bob]

Interestingly, a significant portion of the atropals rammed by the ship proceed to simple slough off to the side, stubbornly refusing to fall to such efforts.
Not that they're entirely intact, no, most of them are suffering to varying degrees of mutilation or crushed body sections, but they continue to offer cold gazes while the next plan of action is considered.

Well, those that aren't immediately ripped apart by weaponry that seems to be pervading the surrounding vacuum.

How unfortunate, to see their efforts completely shrugged off as the attackers barrel ever closer to the Dead Moon.
They are the primary defense. They are bound to protect it, by any means.

If they cannot destroy it, or even damage it, then they must halt it.
Their creator provides the will, they provide the way.

The remaining atropals retreat, all uttering parts of the same chant as they drift apart from the ship, each taking a different piece, accelerating the speed and capacity of the cast.
The ship shrugs off their energies, their forms.
But what if the very medium by which they travel simply refuses them?

Before the shuttle, a great wall of force erupts into being, the purest form of path-denial the atropals can conceive.
They can undeniably bypass it, but they will have to slow and adjust, which will serve to provide the forces of the Dead Moon more time to consider the situation.

[Jayngfet]

Davis fires his own beams, brilliant blue lances erupting from the sides of the ship. The ship barrel rolls as the beams swerve, creating a swerving tornado of glowing death.

He had barely any idea what he was doing, working by instinct as always. He didn't know who these people were, how these ...things were coming from the sky, or what the hell he was fighting for. Those questions came later. Right now he had a flaming laser drill to pilot. He turned the Phlanax Cannons forward and barreled down on the energy wall.

He screamed in rage, hitting the shield pulse at the last moment, bringing beams, drill, and shield against it.

[Chaotic Bob]

Perplexing, the mortals are charging just as determinedly as before towards the wall.
Their weaponry can do nothing, but perhaps they've imbued some particular magic into the drill head? Unlikely.
But it would be a waste of a perfectly good opportunity to allow them to simply bypass the wall without suffering for their efforts.

They were sadly well-prepared. New stratagems must be devised, on the fly.
Atropus will have to consider new methods. Perhaps allowing them to land will make them easier to destroy.
Although, the species on this planet have clearly advanced tremendously since its last visit, so perhaps allowing them to land would also be a poor idea.
Choices choices...

For now, simply reveal a measure of adaptability and lethality. Perhaps it will fall flat once more, but it will serve a purpose nonetheless.


Shortly before the drill makes contact with the wall, the entirety of the barrier cracks and shatters, much like an enormous window.
As opposed to the many shards flying in various directions, however, they all fly forward in a massive wind-tunnel type mechanism, seeking to tear anything they can reach.

More than a few atropals are unfortunate enough to be in the path, but they are expendable.

[Fan]

The left side of the ship takes a powerful hit from a swarm of Atropals, draining shields on the left half to well.. quite a bit less than half. However, they did not take this damage laying down, what power he had been attributing to the laser drill was now jettisoned in an explosive burst of lasers, forcing a detachment of the Drill, automated rockets guiding it to the target that the Geologists had mapped out in the massive creatures form, the single weakest possible point in the dead moon's crust, a place with not even a mile of crust between it, and what they assumed was a dried and dead capillary system that served as a pseudo mantle for the giant space abortion.

But that didn't matter to Dante. Dante was free. He was flying again. Not only flying, but he was also behind the controls of one of the most deadly machines to ever be made. It made him giddy, rancorous laughter erupting inside the cockpit as Dante began what he did best.

On the battlefield, Dante was a beast of rage, and destruction now that he was free, solid fuel canisters jetissioning with a thunderous crack of violently blown emergency launch bolts that sent the building sized side rocket firing off as a single massive cluster missile, dozens of warhead bearing loads ejecting from the canister as it impacts an unlucky Atropal. Dante dived, using the momentum of the ejected canister to propel himself down beside the drill, coming side by side with the Drill cockpit as he gave a thumbs up to Sammie, firing all batteries, and point defenses at the impact point attempting to clear it of undead monsters for a clear landing, banking off at the last second, the bottom of his ship opening, revealing that the jet was a fighter bomber, a vacuum air bomb spinning into the thickest cluster of undead he can find before spiraling up, launching the last of his missiles and firing all laser batteries.. his shields slowly ticking up and down as the Harmonics reactor worked perfectly, the ship beginning to glow a dull red like the embers of a fire recently dead. However, it was not a perfect system, and the shields did drop despite this most advanced of power sources.

[Chaotic Bob]

Mildly concerning, the force these creatures were able to supply with what so little they brought.
They were still a mere mite before Atropus' form, so fear remained unknown.
It knew what they hoped to accomplish. It also had every reason to believe they would fail.

As the atropals scatter and a small region of the moonlet's surface is cleared, a wind begins to slowly crawl along the surface of the great entity, revealed by periodic masses of decayed flesh from other creatures fluttering across its old body.

Let them enter

And rather abruptly, as far as the invaders can see, a great quantity of the undead simply back off. Recede from the threat without so much as a parting shot.

[atomic_bear]

Sammie hadn't expected Dante to split the Defensars from their combined form yet, having assumed the insane pilot would have enjoyed riding it all the way down to the surface. Still, what Dante did was Dante's business, so long as he did what was needed and kept the Atropals off her back, she just wondered what Davis' impression of the situation was.

Returning Dante's thumbs-up by casually flipping him the bird, Sammie dove Defensar 3 into the surface, hoping the reduced mass from the combined form would still be enough to crack the outer layers. Sure enough the black, craggy material cratered and shattered, sending chunks of the stuff flying into the swarm. The machine's forward momentum spent, Sammie rammed the support pylons into the "ground" and started the drill head on its way down to its target depth. She'd be a sitting duck while the drill did its work, but she certainly wouldn't be idle.

Keeping an eye on the automated drill's status, Sammie switched the cockpit functions, unlocking the unit so it could rotate on powered gimbals. On the top of the machine, powerful cannons swiveled into position, their movements matching the motion of the cockpit, effectively making the immobile Defensar 3 a massive defensive gun platform.

"Drill's in place! We've got five minutes before it reaches depth and I drop the nuke; hold them off until then!"

[Chaotic Bob]

The mobile defense platform will see rather sizable hordes of the undead some distance away, of all sizes and forms, but they all seem to be holding their positions.
Merely observing, as instructed.

The atropals above, busy themselves with trying to evade redeath at the hands of the various explosive ordinances being deployed, likewise keeping away from direct attacks, simply seeking to stall and redirect attacks of the attackers.

Below the surface of the undead moonlet, changes are occurring. Small pockets of gas are funneled from various other regions into holes in the path of the drill.
Coupled with this phenomena, pressure increases become present in this particular region, altering densities in subtle but definite ways.
Pursuing and overseeing these adjustments, a new generation Aspect lurks beneath the surface, waiting for the proper time.

[atomic_bear]

The monitoring sensors that watched the drill and its path through the layers of material it carved through registered the changing density of the strata. The idea of seemingly inert material changing its composition during operations had not been accounted for, although the automated system quite correctly varied the motion of the drill head and resolutely continued on, noting the changing rate of progress on the cockpit displays. Whirling around in sync with the huge defensive cannons on top of the immobile machine, Sammie saw the readouts, found them not to be immediately hazardous and continued on, throwing torrents of energy and matter into the whirling clouds of enemies that surrounded the three intruders.

And beneath the surface, the hellishly powerful drill continued to rend its way down into the depths.

[Chaotic Bob]

The undead on the surface seem content to be decimated by the lasers, occasionally making dull shifts to move, if they aren't gifted with other means of escape, such as with flight or ethereality.

Meanwhile, underground, further element from within the moonlet are pressed upwards, faintly, trying to further hamper the drill's movements.
Mostly so the massive object slamming at its side doesn't have to lead its charge too much.

Said object appears rather completely unconstrained by the large present of fossilized material around it, rather content to ignore it and essentially ram at the drill.
To some degree, it looks like a massive turtle skull, some sort of gray gel tightly coating its features, with more of the substance spreading back from the direction it came, similar to a snake. A really rather long, homicidal, undead snake.

[Jayngfet]

Davis roars, spinning the lasers alongside the craft, rotating that as well a second time. Everything, flying or running, is lanced with temperatures comparable to the sun itself. This white hot beam of power was his to command, tearing asunder the enemies of humanity. He moves the craft in a wavelike motion in conjunction with the rotations, the beams only hitting each enemy further. He would give them no reprieve, no mercy, no quarter.

His boot stomps the acceleration, rushing further into the cluster of enemies as he lances those around him in a spinning wave of extermination.

[Fan]

Dante, fares less well than the apparently invulnerable Davis, his shields hovering between 49 and 52% as he held on to the shaking controls with his rock steady hands, his sensors telling him that the ship was in trouble there on the ground, the experienced pilot pulling a barrel roll into a 180, flying upside down and angling the point defense cannons down at the creature, firing a barrage of deadly plasma and high explosives.

However, this costs him, a hit to his right engine reduces the shields even further, down to 30%.. Dante gives a sound somewhere between "tsk", and "****.", flying in beside Davis, using minimal plasma batteries and aiding in his attack in order to give his shields time to tick up, because one unshielded hit, and it was POP, no more Dante Hiyama.

[atomic_bear]

Sammie almost didn't see the onrushing hellspawn swimming its way through the rocky crust. Swinging the massive cannons of her machine towards the ground, not towards the enemy, but at the ground between them. The power of the energy beams ripped into the surface, carving out a trench in a wide arc around the machine.

"We've got incoming! I need you guys to throw everything you've got at this spot on my mark," she called over the radio, tapping the spot in question on her touchscreen. "It's going for the drill; let's give it a welcoming party."