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Topic: X-COM Monday Nights Campaign (Read 4486 times) |
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vanya mia
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"You know, can you please stop all this 'it's been good to work with you' stuff?" Behind the visor Catalina's lips tightened and she glanced back briefly from looking down into the passage ahead of them. "First it was Vas on the ship, and now Jane joining in. What you are really saying is 'I think we might not get out of this place, and I'm going to express that in some way to make myself feel better about the situation'."
"If the way we feel isn't already clear by this time then some platitude mouthed now isn't going to change that, but what it is doing is admitting the possibility of defeat." Her face took on a determined smirk. "Well you might think you're not going back, but I don't want to be left on this sodding planet, and have no damn intention of staying here if there's anything to be done about it." The smirk widened into a grin. "Even if it means a year in a tin can with Vas's snoring, Jim's feet, Hade's equipment cleaning, Jane's taste in headwear, Mary's cooing about the scenery and God only knows what habits from Stan and Ken."
"So let's put a cap on all this fluffy stuff," Catalina jerked the loading mechanism of her plasma rifle in the traditional fashion "and go get that bloody ship!"
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 19, 2008, 8:59AM » |
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chiz
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Jim rubbed his eyes and coughed as the hood of the cryo unit lifted up. There was some kind of foul smell coming from the bottom of the unit, and he couldn't feel his feet very well. He was also having trouble opening his eyes fully. Cryo sucks. Last time I'm going into one of these - except for the way home, if we make it.
He rested his head back on the base of the unit, and kept on rubbing his eyes until they teared up. After about two minutes, he was able to open them and actually see. As soon as he did, he closed them again fast. His feet didn't look so good. He tried to yell, instead croaking weakly. "Hey, where is everyone?! Anyone there?" After a few minutes, he pulled himself together and crawled out of the cryo unit.
The Avenger autopilot came on and quickly explained what had happened. "OK, drop me off at the base entrance." The autopilot explained that two cruisers were on their tail, and he'd have at best 15 seconds to offload. Adrenaline allowed him to put on his powered armor, and get ready, and before he knew it, the hatch opened. He jumped and sprinted for what he assumed was the base entrance. As he entered, stepping over alien corpses, he turned, and saw a swarm of what could well be mutons off-loading from one of the cruisers that had been on the Avenger's tail....
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 25, 2008, 1:08AM » |
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Bob Thundergut
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Just before Alpha Team's final mission, a woman in Pune, India received a phone call.
"Mom, it's me. Please don't hang up," a female voice quickly said. "I wanted to let you know... that i love you. And that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, for letting you down."
"I'm sorry too," the woman suddenly burst out, her voice heavy with emotion. . "I'm sorry for being a poor excuse for a mother. Please- you must forgive me for the terrible things I said."
A long quiet moment later, the woman wondered if the line had gone dead. "Are you there?" she begged. "Are you there?"
"I'm here," her caller said. It was evident that the young woman had been crying. "I love you mommy."
"I love you too, Mahwesh. And I want you to know, I'm very proud of you. We all are. Oh if only i had known what you were doing. What you were a part of..."
"You know? You weren't supposed to know. Mommy, what did they tell you?"
"Well they said that you were part of the group that.."
"That's enough!" said a male in the room.
The Prime Minister of India took the phone receiver from the woman, and slowly slid it into its cradle.
"What are you doing?" the woman blurted. "Get her back on the line right now."
"We can't," the Prime Minister said gently. "It was all the time the Americans would allow."
Mary's mother buried her face in her hands, and burst into tears. It was at that moment, the moment she realized that she would never speak to her daughter, or hold her again, that she felt agony. Thd agony of regret. The agony of unkind words that she could never take back or make up for.
Would a few quick words on a long distance phone call be enough to heal her broken-hearted daughter? She would never know.
"She will be remembered for this," the Prime Minister said. He wrapped an arm across the sobbing woman's shoulders. "I promise you, she will be a hero in our country. Now and forever more."
"But that isn't what she wanted," the woman cried. "She didn't want ANY of this. All she ever wanted... was to be left alone."
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Jenniza
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The final prep days of the Mars Mission was also 9/11, the day Jane's ... Donna's parents died back in 2001.
In a small undiscolosed town, a phone rang. The house and phone were still coordinated by WITSEC and X-COM for additional security after their last house was blown up by a security leak.
Jane began, "Hello?"
Rebecca replied, "We're all here, honey. We're on speakerphone."
Samantha piped in, "Hiya!"
Mark added, "Heya, kiddo. We're all proud of you. Mom and Dad would be too. Thank you for calling today as well."
Jane replied, "You're welcome. You understand what's going on right?"
Mark answered, "Yes, some people are here now." There was a pause as he chose his next words carefully, "You make sure to come visit us as soon as possible."
Jane paused and chose her words carefully, "I'll do my best, I promise. I love you all. I need to get back to work now."
Rebecca, a bit tearful, "I love you too."
Samantha blurted out, "Bye bye."
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 24, 2008, 3:31PM » |
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karvon
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Hadrian quickly checked his ammo and weapons as the team caught its breath for a moment. This had gone tits up from the start. They'd been detected before they even landed and faced large numbers of various aliens at nearly every turn. The base was huge and there was no way it seemed possible to fully sweep each level and still quickly reach and destroy their target. He turned to the rest of the team.
I suggest we focus on as a fast and direct approach as possible to the lower levels where the construction of the ship is likely taking place. If we dally to engage and destroy all aliens on every level on our way down, we'll burn up more of our resources and lessen the odds of successfully carrying out our primary objective.
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Smart Alec
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Vasily thought that through. It didn't take long.
"Agreed."
Of course, the obvious question was, if they kept going without stopping to clear, how was their line of retreat secure? And deep down, Vasily hoped no-one was about to ask it. Because the truth was, it wasn't. And given the enthusiasm and the denial of all fatalism at the start of the mission, he didn't want to be the one to say that it didn't matter. As long as that battleship was in flames, as long as Alpha Team did enough damage to delay the Alien war machine - well, hopefully, they would buy X-Com enough time to train and equip a new Alpha Team. Mars was, as the old military classics called it, 'fatal terrain'.
Though that didn't mean the battleship was the only thing they could potentially ruin while they were here; and should they fail to fight their way through, maybe there was something else they could do, some consolation to make the mission worthwhile...
"Keep eye out for secondary objectives," Vasily rumbled. "Target of opportunity. Once primary mission complete, anything we can do is all bonus."
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 25, 2008, 12:50AM » |
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Lazybones
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I'd just like to thank everyone again for a wonderful campaign. Your excellent roleplaying made the characters and the plot come alive.
Remember to think about what your characters are up to, we'll get back to them before too long!
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Jenniza
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As everyone left for their victory dinner, their exciting new careers, and then to lead the way in rebuilding a brave new world... Jane received a phone call. She did not see the blow to the back of the head as she took the call in the other area. Nor did she know where she was being taken to.
What she could only surmise might be hours later, she groggily gathered her surroundings. She smelled oil and heard engine sounds and felt the slight motion of water, like she was on a freighter at sea or something.
“Ah, you’re awake, Agent Swift,” came a man with a Chinese accent. That answered the next question. “I suppose you’re wondering why we went to this much trouble?”
Jane laughed at him, “You’ll get nothing from me.”
The man looked at her seriously, “You set off a nuclear device in our country killing 5,236. We’re going to kill you that many times and bring you back to life. I’m told the experience will probably drive you insane.” He turned to some men bringing equipment into the room, “Let’s get started.”
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chiz
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President Obama's voice came clearly over the communicator. "Jim, I'd like to offer you the position of Surgeon Ggeneral, pending Senate confirmation after Miriam's resignation takes effect. I know firsthand your expertise in the area of the new alien medical advances will come in very handy as we figure out how to help Americans without tipping Medicare and Medicaid completely over the edge."
"Mr. President, I'm honored to be asked to serve in this capacity. Will I be involved in the formulation of the overall health care policy program?"
There was a bit of static as the President replied. "Not only will you be involved, Jim, but I expect you will be a key architect. As you know, Hilary is very interested in this area as well, but given her responsibilities over at State, well, I don't think she'll have much time to focus on this very important area."
"Thanks again for the confidence, Mr. President. I do need to think about it - all I've done for the past several months is remain holed up at the X-Com base. How should I be in touch?"
"Jim, I'm going to put Rahm on the phone, and he'll work out logistics with you and respond to any more questions. We will need to get some information for the confirmation process. I'm hoping I can count on you - we have a lot of work to do to improve America's health care, and I'm confident you are the one to lead the effort."
ooc: LB, thank you again for running this campaign. It was very different from some of the D&D FR campaigns in the past, and you did a great job.
I also enjoyed the company of the rest of the alpha team - it was fun, and you guys made the campaign come alive.
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 25, 2008, 11:18PM » |
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Smart Alec
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OOC: I almost didn't post this after writing it, as the dark tone of Jane's above contrasted a little heavily with the more upbeat note this one ends on, but then I thought, what the hell. 
And yes! Awesome campaign. Ideas are already forming in my head as to X-Com 2: Underwater Boogaloo. Thanks for a great bunch of Monday nights, folks, and here's to some more! 
***
There was a party. Nothing in the history of human civilisation deserved a party more, maybe.
It came after the eight team members on board Avenger-1 had the chance to get a much-needed shower, a few breaths of fresh air, and after a short but loud press conference and and a very welcome, non-pea-based dinner reception. Considering the security laid down by SWAT and the dark-suited agents entrusted with the safety of the various representatives of national governments, it was odd to reflect that Alpha Team were some of the few people attending who weren't carrying any weapons. It made a refreshing change.
At some time during his shower, the Federalnaya Sluzhba Bezopasnosti had finally dropped him a line, the first since his arrival in America. He'd caught up with some of the news reports around the globe, and had scoffed amusedly at RTVi's enthusiastic but fact-light furore over the 'Russian-led' special forces team that had secured Earth's future. Even so, the FSB's line didn't entirely surprise him. Good to hear on successful assignment, hero of the Federation... glorious retirement offered, with a teaching post at a military college or training centre of his choice. The grim memory of storming a base in the Urals and gunning down his fellow countrymen hadn't faded yet; not for him, and, apparently, not for the officers among the spetznaz. OSNAZ had no place for heroes, especially those who broke ranks.
He'd sent back the politest 'screw you' he could manage, just before dessert. He'd protect the motherland in his own way from now on.
The satisfaction he got from that still hadn't left him by the time the party rolled around... or maybe that was just the kind of natural high you had from watching people enjoy themselves. It had been a long time. He didn't catch a glimpse of Hadrian or Jane - perhaps they were talking to their respective superiors, or he simply couldn't see them in the press of the crowd - but he could see Mary hanging near the President's table, James at the bar telling a story to some admiring folks, Catalina cutting up the dance floor... it made a great picture, and he felt good about it. Maybe it wasn't quite his scene, but it was good, even if he felt most comfortable standing and watching.
For a moment, one melancholy moment, those faces he knew he wouldn't see here hung at the edge of his thoughts. The nameless workers, soldiers and others he'd not really paid attention to, sure, but mainly the dead; those he'd known, and those he hadn't. There'd been no time to introspect at the height of the conflict, but now... now, they all deserved a thought, at least one thought. He hoped that even if X-Com's actions couldn't give the Alien War meaning, they could at least give it closure, and that it would satisfy. He knocked his drink back in a silent toast, and stared at the far wall across the heads of the crowd.
"So. Director, eh?" queried a voice at his elbow, breaking his reverie. He gave an affirmative grunt as Agent Drake - Inise, even - took up position at his side.
She looked a little out of place, wearing the same dark suit as the other Presidential agents in the room, but then she had an excuse; she was working, not partying, and in that capacity it was hard not to think of her as anyone else but Agent Drake. Still, she had a drink in her hand - a fruit juice, most like - as a small concession to the party atmosphere.
They stood there, for a few moments. She wasn't looking at him; no, she watched the crowd, standing at the edge, her eyes picking out faces, much as he had done - much as he was doing, in fact. He bobbed his head in time with the music, a little self-consciously. She drummed her fingers on the side of her glass, apparently lost in her own thoughts.
"How was-"
"You think-"
The two lines of conversation smacked into each other like a countermarch gone wrong, and the confusion that followed them stifled any others that came to mind. After a few anticlimactic moments, she gave a quiet, barely-audible sigh, drained her own glass and gave him a simple nod. "I'll see you later," she shrugged, making to fade back into the background.
"Hey!" he called out, on impulse. She half-turned, watching him almost warily.
Ah, what the hell. The consequences couldn't possibly be any worse than an alien invasion, and he'd already lived through that.
"I know we all really busy, but you think you can get any free time next week?"
That earned him a raised eyebrow, and another few moments of her attention as she mulled his words over.
"I'll call you," she promised at last, giving him the ghost of a smile before disappearing into the throng.
Well, that was something.
He gave his empty glass a smirk, nodding to himself, drifting from what had been done to what he had yet to do. Given the political situation, the humanitarian situation, the intergalactic situation, the scarcity of elerium on Earth, the heavy load of work and responsibility that was likely waiting for him in Garret's former office and the nagging, paranoid feeling that in some way, this wasn't the end... he had a feeling there wasn't a soul that didn't understand that a guy, even a soldier or an official or a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, had to make his own good times where he could.
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 26, 2008, 2:22AM » |
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karvon
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Hadrian hated formal receptions. They were usually filled with people he didn't know, or want to know, trying to chat him up about things they were totally clueless about and wouldn't understand, even if he did answer them directly. Of course, given the hosts, he couldn't blow it off, so he dutifully showed up in his dress blues and smiled politely as he parried the shower of inane comments and questions from the hordes before dinner. He caught occasional glimpses of the other team members through the crowd, and they seemed, likewise, fully engaged by well wishers and glad handlers. He sat through the speeches during dinner, lost in his own thoughts and plans about his coming assignment. As soon as the last speaker sat down and the dancing and mingling took over, Hadrian slipped away and walked briskly back to Xcom central.
Though the brass was partying that night, it was business as usual and the night shift staff of techs and non-com's were hard at it. Some of them took double-takes and joked on seeing him decked out in his blues and ribbons. Ignoring the banter, he made his way back to the barracks, changed back into his fatigues and carefully stashed his blues into a garment bag hanging in his locker. Next, he strolled over to the mess hall, grabbed a couple of bottles of beer and a pizza, and parked himself at a corner table to enjoy his own private banquet.
Over his dinner, he flipped open his Xphone and dictated three emails. The first went to Director of XCom, a smile flickered that was Vas now, formally giving notice of his return to duty with the Corp and outlining some ideas for cross-training and seconding of Corp personnel to XCom. The second one he cc'ed to his fellow alpha team members thanking them for their work, wishing them well in their next assignment and leaving them a personal contact number - should they need to get a hold of him for any reason. The last went to Gen. Graves containing a list men he wanted for his program, a brief schedule of training seminars and exercises and notice he was taking 30 days of his accumulated leave, starting at midnite, before formally taking up his new post.
The meal and messages finished, Hadrian ambled back to the barracks. He cleaned out his locker and foot locker, easily fitting his few personal things and uniforms into his duffle bag. Turning his attention to his Xcom gear, he carefully stripped, cleaned and reassembled each of his issued weapons and armor. Leaving his bag on his bunk, he hauled his XCom equipment back to the quartermaster and checked everything back in. Next, he stopped at the OOD and requested private air transport in an hour to Denver. There was some grumbling, but given his status, it was promptly arranged.
Collecting his bags, Hadrian settled into a stuffed chair in the lounge to await his flight. He slowly flipped open his Xphone and dialed in a number from memory. After a couple of rings a gruff voice answered.
The Jones residence.
Hadrian paused slightly before responding.
Good evening sir, this is Hadrian. I'll be flying into Denver in a couple of hours.
After a brief delay the other voice responded.
Very well, we'll be expecting you.
There was a click.
Hadrian closed the call window and clicked open his Clauswitz's On War and settled down to wait.
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vanya mia
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“Special Forces Officer Saves The Planet,” Catalina read out loud the front page headline from the Daily Mail to the smiling receptionist behind the desk in the waiting area, “A little more interesting than Threat Of Invasion Thwarted from the Times, don’t you think? I rather like this one though.” She picked up the copy of the Sun with the front page declaring 'Cat Scratches Aliens', accompanied by the same pictures from the press conference and of her in full uniform taken at the graduation from Sandhurst presented by the other newspapers, but they had also obtained a second one of her rather scantily dressed in a cat costume. “So, boys, you've got a lot to do to impress this alien-busting beauty if you want her to check out your emerging threat,” she quoted again and then looked up as the receptionist’s intercom buzzed.
“The country needs a hero right now,” the Prime Minister’s secretary had told her in response to a quiet question concerning public profile during a hastily snatched briefing, then proceeded to outline the cover story of her involvement as a Special Forces Systems Expert playing on her former education. So she had revelled in the limelight at the press conference then basked in the attention late, danced the night away at the party, and at one point or another dragged just about every male XCOM member onto the floor, including a reluctant Vasily and a much less so James. The following morning saw her packing her things and hastening to fulfil the final part of her orders; report to GCHQ in Cheltenham, the temporary home of SIS for a full debriefing and new orders with immediate effect.
Making her general goodbyes as swiftly as possible to the team in general, with several repetitions of a “No peace for the wicked” answer to questions over the hasty departure, Catalina sought out the members of Alpha team. Fairly emotional exchanges of contact details and farewells took place with James and Mary, and she left instructions to pass on best wishes to Jane with Mary. A more restrained, but no less intense, exchange took place with Vasily during which formal contact information was established. Lastly she found Jarvis. Quiet discussion and promises filled the time until her midday departure, when she left the base on the first stage of her journey home to England. A bare forty eight hours from landing in California saw Catalina in front of the Director of SIS with her report on his desk.
Catalina sat quietly as he leafed through the pages and then looked up at her impassively. “Quite a challenging mission, it seems, and satisfying result all round.”
“Yes, Sir,” came her respectful reply. The Prime Minister had been one thing, but this was C.
“Mr Milliband wants a foot in the camp. We’ve given some thought to the rank that should be assigned to this and reached the conclusion that it should be above your current level.” He told her, his eyes searching her face for a response.
Catalina’s twitched imperceptibly at the words but she answered evenly, “That’s probably correct, Sir.”
The Director’s expression didn’t change. “Hence I think promotion to Senior Operational Officer is probably called for, given the circumstances, Agent De Farrago.”
Stamping down on any open expression of elation, Catalina answered in similarly even tones. “Thank you, Sir.”
“I’m told some form of public ceremony and honours award from His Majesty is pending, the most will need to be made from this in the interest of morale, but we still have some tidying up to do. The Commission is keen that we keep this as ‘in house’ as possible. Your current exposure is a complication, but nothing we haven’t overcome previously.” The Director closed the report and clasped his hands on the desk in front of him. “France awaits you, Agent, dismissed.”
((OOC - A completely awesome campaign, LB. Can't wait for these to come together again.))
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| « Last Edit: on: Nov 26, 2008, 5:21PM » |
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Smart Alec
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((Yes, what if someone actually tried to write and direct a movie based on the exploits of Alpha Team? ))
***
Dear Mr. Halloway,
First of all, we've read your scripts, and we're very excited about the project! Your script as presented is both thought-provoking and has the feeling of authenticity, and we think the time is right for this story to be told, and our studio is willing to endorse it, despite this being your first script. However, many of us feel that the subject matter is insufficient to carry a trilogy, and there are a number of observations below that I think that you'll agree with, after readong through them.
- Alien invasion goes on too long. We feel it best to compress events into a single film, and am of the opinion that this could be done - without changing the overall structure of the story - by setting events entirely on Mars, and tell it from the point of view of a human colonisation gone wrong than an alien attack. This opens the possibility for a twist ending where the aliens are just fighting to defend their home, and that kind of moral message about us being the real monsters really fits the public consciousness right now!
- Characters. While the script's dialogue is dynamite, the characterisation is a bit scattered. We don't see the need for two Doctors, so the characters of '"Buzz" Olloff' and 'Dr. James Allen' could probably be written as one man. 'Dr. Mary Ranma' - Indian? As the script lacks a genuine love interest, we were thinking that Mary would fit perfectly, and that a little rewriting could easily see this role as perfect for a leading lady - we want to avoid jokes about wigwams and teepees, so a nationality change might be a good idea!
In the same vein, having two tough leading men leaves scenes feeling lopsided - we have a feeling that audiences will respond better to your character 'Hadrian Jones', who as an all-american Marine is a much more recognisable and relatable character than a Russian from a fictional special services outfit. This allows for your 'Vasily' character to be rewritten as the young hothead who will either learn from Jones or die at the hands of the alien menace, we leave that to you. Would you consider making him Mexican?
However, we definitely all agree that the character of Jane Swift is perfect as written.
This leads me to our next point.
- A lack of visible villain. An alien brain does not make a compelling figure to hate, and though we'd like to include something similar to the French and Chinese betrayals in yur scripts, we feel this is unwise as far as overseas reception to the movie is concerned. Therefore, we might suggest one of your 'Alpha Team' be revealed as a traitor working for the aliens - 'Catalina de Farrago' would be the obvious choice, as her background as a spy makes most of her existing dialogue work fine even as a traitor and this can set up an interesting love triangle between her, the main hero and the leading lady which we think will really get audiences personally involved with the story.
However, if you would like to change her nationality to French or Chinese to keep the original feel of your script intact, then that would be fine.
- Accidentally close to reality? I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but there is in fact an actual international agency with the name X-Com (or the 'Extraterrestrial Combat Unit' ). Our attempts to contact the director of the agency concerning your scripts and the possibility of co-operation during filming have not been replied to, and as such, we think changing the name of your in-movie agency would be best, as would setting the movie in the near or far future would be best to avoid complications with the international government.
If you take all that into account, we think you might just have a potential blockbuster on your hands, and we look forward to your reply!
Yours,
Susan Malarkey,
ParaMaxiversal Studios.
***
((Just kidding. I'd like to believe that there are no movie execs in the real world this clueless. ))
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| « Last Edit: on: Dec 2, 2008, 2:00AM » |
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