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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 6:48:59 GMT
9/1/5500
I had thought that animals weren't affected by this plague, but we were recently attacked by a bunch of enormous mutant ant-things. I don't remember hearing anything about that on this planet before now, so I really don't know what to think. They didn't breach the defences, but they did a number on the fortifications while the cyborg was busy killing them. If there were more than four of the things, we might've been in actual danger.
The cyborg, for his part, remains implacable, but has authorized me to use one of the pirate's pistols. I anticipate that this means he'll expect me to back him up in the next attack? With my suit (the wearing of which remains the most uncomfortable part of my day), I suppose I am the best protected of the non-cyborg-types in the Quarantine Zone, but I'm not much of a fighter. Still, the others are almost useless, so I suppose I'll do what I must.
The latest slaver claimed something about a failure to relay their messages, and asked me to retransmit something for them. Fuck that. And fuck you, if you're reading this; I'm not doing any favours for slaver scum.
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Post by Inkspot on Jul 2, 2015 6:52:37 GMT
Excuse me, Zenith, I'm from outside of your quarantine zone, but not a slaver. I might be able to get materials to repair your fortifications to you.
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Saba
Poster
Posts: 10
World: Somewhere. (Probably.)
Pronoun: She
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Post by Saba on Jul 2, 2015 6:55:17 GMT
I'm almost certain that our messages are being garbled in transit to you, at this point. (I have to ask, though. If the slaver ship you think I'm on is the only ship in range, what possible favor could you be doing to it by retransmitting a message from it? It's not as if it's going to go to anyone new.) Presumably, at some point the slaver ship is going to leave the range of your transmissions. Perhaps you'll be more amenable to communication after that.
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Post by Meletiti Entelecheiai on Jul 2, 2015 7:07:38 GMT
It rather sounds to me like several slaver ships have come and gone, and the forum is manifesting as messages from them.
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 7:13:40 GMT
9/4/5500
A merchant ship, this time. Interested in the personal effects of the dead, again, which was approved, as they had more hazmat suits on offer. Now everyone in the fort is properly attired, for what good it does.
The cyborg also sent up a number of those suspicious vials he's been working on. That... seems to almost definitely be a breach of quarantine. He claims it was 'approved'. By whom? I have been informed it's 'need to know'. That's probably samples of the zombie virus. Why someone wants those hauled offworld is beyond me, but seems more than a little suspicious.
The merchant ship seems to have messages for me, claiming not to be a slaver, and offering material supplies. This is obviously true; I can read their ID signal and manifest transmissions the same as anyone. The cyborg declined to purchase those materials in favour of acquiring hazmat suits.
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Saba
Poster
Posts: 10
World: Somewhere. (Probably.)
Pronoun: She
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Post by Saba on Jul 2, 2015 7:21:50 GMT
That does seem to be the case. I'm not quite sure how I missed that. Since messages from the forum seem to be slightly garbled, and his/her dimension is apparently inaccessible to at least one of those who have means that could plausibly used to access it, it seems like it might neither be possible to help them or explain the forum to them. That's unfortunate.
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Post by Inkspot on Jul 2, 2015 7:32:07 GMT
I suspect Esthfora could help. Or someone just travelling to the place.
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 8:03:05 GMT
9/6/5500
Another merchant, fairly quickly after the last. Selling medical supplies, though at an exorbitant markup; the cyborg declined to purchase from them (though he did ship up more of what are certainly samples of the plague).
More incoherent messages, alas. I'd be inclined to think that the comms system was broken, if it wasn't so *weird*. I think I'm actually listening in on other people talking to each other, and maybe catching part of a conversation? They seem to be catching part of my personal logs, too. The perils of using a comms computer for journaling, I suppose?
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 8:21:56 GMT
9/7/5500
Zombies. A dozen of them. Four of them had personal shield generators. How the hell does a zombie get a personal shield?
(stupid question; some mercs must've gotten bit, and then were inconsiderate enough to die without removing their protective gear)
They gave the cyborg an unusual amount of trouble; he needed to retreat to the fortifications and pick them off slowly. This was rather unfortunate for a group of refugees, which picked a terrible time to come this way. Four of them managed to make it inside unbitten. The cyborg declined entry to the injured ones; and shot them dead after he finished off the zombies. The healthy refugees are unhappy about that, but at least they're alive.
Two slave ships in orbit, now. The cyborg declined a request by the refugees to use our systems to sell themselves into slavery, on account of the 'quarantine'; a particularly black joke, seeing as how all these slave ships are buzzing around. They may not make it to the next outpost, if the zombie numbers continue to increase like this.
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Raezenoth
Poster
Posts: 79
World: Arabek
Pronoun: He
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Post by Raezenoth on Jul 2, 2015 8:23:43 GMT
I am offended at the state of your world, Zenith.
We will fix it.
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 8:33:44 GMT
9/8/5500
The density of merchant ships continues to astound. Like vultures swarming over carrion; these guys were eager to buy the stuff owned by the recently-re-dead zombies.
I can't speak too much ill of them, though, since these guys did seem sorry about things, and promised to do what they could about the situation. That's... nice, I guess?
A convoy of Marines passed by the Quarantine Zone today. First I've seen of them since the resupply effort. They did not stop to chat, but I'm glad they're in the area.
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 8:49:24 GMT
10/1/5500
The cyborg was busy with his experiments, so he had me man the defenses against the latest threat; a rabid furx? Unsettling to see sick animals at a time like this, but the cyborg informs me that it's not the plague. I suck at shooting, but managed to kill the thing after a few hours of trial-and-error. Fortunately, it wasn't terribly interested in the fortifications, so it was a 'shooting fish in a barrel' scenario. I wouldn't have wanted to be outside while it was rampaging, though.
Speaking of illness, the medic fell ill. He's pretty old, and hasn't been needed in his main role so far, but he has been helping the cyborg with his research. The cyborg claims there's nothing to worry about, it's just an ordinary flu. Strange that he could catch a 'flu' while wearing a full-body containment suit.
More slavers. We have nothing to offer each other, but their appearance gives me a pretense to use the comm system to keep my logs. I'd probably die of boredom without the break.
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 9:15:19 GMT
10/5/5500
I am, for once, legitimately grateful to be wearing a hazmat suit.
There was a bright flash in the distance three days ago, and there's been greenish dust raining down from the sky ever since. The cyborg is making noises about radiation, against which I am duly glad I am protected, and has ordered us to minimize our time outside (which order I am only too pleased to obey, under the circumstances).
Clearly, someone decided to dust off a nuke, and use it on something in our vicinity. Lucky us.
No one on the comms but slavers these days, but these ones aren't weirdly talkative, just mundanely disgusting. This one wanted to sell me pieces of someone. Ew.
Quarantine is boring, but it beats being cut up for parts by slavers.
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Post by Zenith on Jul 2, 2015 10:01:19 GMT
11/1/5500
Everything is horrible. It should be getting on towards winter, now; instead, there is unbearable heat. Fortunately, the refrigeration systems the cyborg built into the storehouse are holding out; otherwise, we'd be quite dead in these hot suits.
The outside is a radioactive hell, littered with the rotting bodies of all the animals. The forests around the Quarantine Zone used to be fair hunting grounds (indeed, that's where we've been getting most of our food up until now); we won't be getting anything more out of them now. Perhaps not ever. Radiation levels have yet to go down, and we're starting to succumb to the poisoning despite our protections. It is not possible to entirely avoid some time outside, after all, and the concrete walls of the fort offer only limited protection.
A pack of wargs 'attacked' four days ago. Whoever thought it was a good idea to engineer wolves with increased size, aggressiveness, and a taste for human flesh should be fed to their own miscreations. Fortunately, they are not smart enough to open doors, so their presence served as little more than an additional reason to not go outside. They seem to have no trouble with the radiation, though, so the cyborg killed a few for study.
A merchant ship arrived today, selling bulk goods. The cyborg has purchased seeds; it seems likely that we'll need to rig up a hydroponics garden to avoid starvation and death.
Wait; twenty-two zombies? Fuck.
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Post by Astra Nephthys on Jul 2, 2015 12:57:34 GMT
This is becoming tedious.
Zenith. I am travelling to your world now. You will recognize me by my eyes, which are black and filled with stars. Please do not direct your cyborg friend to shoot at me: it is likely to be both annoying and ineffective.
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