Please respect other members. Please do not post links or information about hacking/warez/cheats.
Read the rules of these forums as we rarely warn before banning. Lost or need RSS check the forum map.
This is a story... about a lovely lady... who was bringing up three very lovely girls...
Okay, not really. I'm just a random kind of guy. This is the thread where I will be running a Starcraft RPG called "First Contact". Any of your guys from the Interest Check thread, this is what I've been talking about. Anyone who hasn't seen that thread, hop over there for a more thorough explanation of what's going on.
The denizens of northern Gribaltar are some of the nastiest, toughened creatures in the known universe. For almost five decades, this unpleasantly warm planet has been the home of the decimated Kraken brood – a specialized part of the Zerg swarm designed for reconnaissance and deep strikes of Terran planets.
The denizens of southern Gribaltar are almost as nasty, nearly as toughened, and apparently even more dangerous – the Terrans. The human residents of the planet settled around the south pole of the planet long before the Zerg came and managed to drive the aliens back to the equator when they arrived. So far, the intermittent Zerg attacks on the colony have not warranted many Imperial resources, so the colonists go on with their lives and only worry about the xenos when they launch a raid on the humans. However, the situation has changed.
Two years ago, strange energy readings were picked up near the north pole of the planet. They were ignored a first, assumed to be some fluke of either device or planet. But they persisted. Apparently, the Zerg had somehow acquired a Protoss ship. No one new how it had happened, but a few of the sector authorities realized that it might be a bad thing.
A day ago, Terran ships appeared on the colony’s sensors and hailed them. As it turned out, the Imperials had decided to send a force to investigate. The battlecruiser escort was needed in another sector, but two Karen-pattern landing craft disgorged twenty-four dropships of troops. Said dropships are now docking in the decrepit bay of the colony.
Note: THIS RPG HAS NOT BEGUN YET!!!!! I will start the story rolling with a post for my char and the removal of this message. Until then, check the Starcraft RPG – Interest Check thread for updates and to pitch your char to me before posting it here. I will accept almost anything (within reason) but until this thread is "activated" by my char's first story post, I want to see all chars on the Interest Check thread before they show up here. Once again, THIS RPG HAS NOT BEGUN YET. Thank you.
This is my char sheet. It is not, repeat NOT the post that will start the story. Neither are any OTHER char sheets that are posted after this one. The story will start with a story post, not a char sheet.
Field Repairs: All C-model weapons, Perdition pattern flamethrower, all F-class aircraft, all Arclite model tanks, all Goliath model walkers, Vulture, Raven, and Falcon pattern hoverbikes, Bertha and McArthur pattern dropships, SCV suit, Marine powersuit, Firebat powersuit, Combat Engineer powersuit, Hostile Environment Suit
Weapon of Choice:
Modified C-14
Magazine system
Snub external barrel
Laser pointer
Internal barrel
Scope
Handgrip
Removed AMS
Stock
Fire Selection system
Psychological profile:
Passion for mechanical and electronic devices, affinity for modifying equipment. Perfectionist who views all problems as solvable. Dislikes illogical people. Not overly attracted to money. Tends to be unemotional. No close acquaintances at present. Deals with problems by taking them apart and rearranging them. Becomes confused when this is not possible.
Assignment History:
Caliban: 507.81.2 - 509.63.8 (see file CF-174-93)
Arc Brutalis: 509.68.4 - 509.82.5
Nova III: 510.37.9 - 517.96.5 (see file CF-947-65)
Detara: 518.17.3 - 518.73.8 (see file CF-036-12)
Currently unassigned
Bill carries 36 rounds for his shotgun, 4 magazines for his handgun, a small flashlight the size of a index finger, and a flashlight atatchment for his combat helmet. He also carries a light 18 ounce, 2 foot long Nightstick. The nightsick is made of high density and high resistance thermoplastic, that has the durablity of metal but the light weight of wood. Note that since Bill is apart of the Colonial Law Enforcement Agency, he normally patrols on a vulture hoverbike.
Physcial Profile: Average height at 5'9. Average weight at 180 pounds. Short cutt black hair. Tan skin. Blue eyes. No real distunguishing facial features. During work hours he wears blue jeans with a black t-shirt and a black baseball hat, each saying Colonial Law Enforcement on them.
Mental Profile: Has a strong affinity for his home planet, Antiga Prime, which was overrun by the Zerg during the early days of the Kopurulu War. Has no allegience to any of the current Terran Goverments, be it Dominion, Umojan, Kel-Morian, or UED. He simply wants revenge on the zerg.
History Bill was born on the temperate planet of Antiga Prime, one of the border planets of the old Confederacy. Early on, he grew interested in a special branch of the police force called Colonial Law Enforcement, a complex organization operating on and protecting the colonial worlds of the Confederacy, and later the Dominion. He joined at age 18, and soon climbed up the ranks to become a Colonial Sheriff. He served on Antiga Prime for a few years, then he went to Timul IV due to the low rate of crime on Antiga.
When the Kopurulu War started with the incineration of Chau Saura, Bill stayed on Timul IV, disturbed by the incineration of that colony. He finnally left Timul IV when Antiga Prime was overrun by Zerg attracted to the Psi Emitter Arcturas Mensk set on the planet. He decided that these aliens needed a little payback for their genocide of two worlds. He took a number of fellow Law Enforcement Agents with him, and they hijacked a dropship from Timul IV's spaceport of Ector.
The officers, unknowing what they were up againt, took heavy casulties when they first encountered the Zerg. Unbeknowest to them, they were being shadowed by the Protoss. During a attack on a tiny Zerg Hatchery colony on one of Antiga Prime's ordbiting space stations, they were attacked by a small protoss raiding party that was after the same thing, destroying the Zerg on the space station. Only Bill survived. He was able to get to the control room of the station, and was able to turn on the Automatic Defence System, a series of weapon traps such as wall flamethrowers and floor machine guns that decimated the Protoss, whom retreated after the last Zerg on the station was dead.
Unluckily for Bill, all dropships, Wraiths, and escape pods on the station were destroyed during the battle. He stayed inside the station alone for nearly two months, studying the corpses of both the Zerg and Protoss, as well as the technology of the Protoss. He also monitered the developments of the Kopurulu War, and made note of the war between the Confederacy and Sons of Korhol. Finally, sometime after Raynor destroyed the Ion Cannon, a group of Dominion boarding troops rescued Bill. He imediently joined the Dominion army, and his expertise on Vulture hoverbikes earned him a nice job as a foward scout.
Bill has now been attached to Gribaltar with his old job as a Colonial Sheriff.
Note: Not to nit-pick, but there are no 'Imperials' in the Starcraft universe. There was the Confederacy, but they were destroyed in the first game, so I presume we're talking about the Dominion. But there is no Terran faction in the game calling themselves the Empire. Even the Terrans on don't call them selves the United Earth Empire, but instead the United Earth Directorate.
Right. I'm talking about a time frame after the first game - this is during Emperor Mengsk's reign. I don't think they ever named his faction past the Sons of Korhal, so I figured that they would be the Imperials (becuase he's an Emperor)
If they did name the new faction, please post the name and I'll try to fix it.
He called his new faction the Dominion, which basically contained most of the Confederate worlds but with Korhol as the capital, and not Tarsonis. Note that the Umojan Protectorate and Kel-Morian Combine were both apart of the Dominion as part of the hierarchal organization, but I presume both left the Dominion when the UED didn't attack either in the campaigns.
Ooooooooooh. Thanks very much. I thought the Terran Dominion was another faction (I don't know who I was thinking of). I'll get that right during the RPG. By the way, once everyone has posted their approval of the story we'll start. I realize I didn't say that earlier, but I think it's probably the best idea.
Criminal Profile - #0019304
Name - Unknown
Alias - the Gentleman
General Information:
Gender: Male
Age: 46
Occupation: Bounty Hunter
Wanted for: Murder, treason, conspiracy to murder, GBH, Grand theft
physical apearance: measuring roughly 6 foot 2 inches, "the gentleman" has tanned skin with greying hair pulled into a ponytail. Numerous scars decorate his head. He has been witnessed wearing the traditional robes of Sirocco, and a brown beaten-up leather trenchcoat.
Equipment:
1 C-10 Canister Rifle
2 C-29 Duel Charger Pistols
250 rounds of U-238 Shells
1 Apollo reactor pack
1 pair of Infra-red vision goggles
1 Psi-blade
Psychological profile:
Despite his notoriety, little is actually known of "the Gentleman" so it is difficult to give any psychological insight at all. Rumoured to have been born into the barbarous clans that lived on Sirocco, a desert planet not far from Tarsonis, "the gentlemen" soon learnt to hate the Confederacy and to use whatever he ever had to bring it to it's knees. It has also been known that he was a member of the Sons of Korhal for a very brief period but returned to being as a bounty hunter patrolling the galactic rim. When the Terran Dominion gained control he turned his back on it to seek employment elsewhere. Over the many years, he has done "work" for numerous established yet corrupt politicians and military figures, notably General Draganja. One mission even involved the assassination of Emperor Mengsk but his employers terminated his employment for unknown reasons. From what is known of the Siroccan clans, "the Gentleman" is suspected to be ruthless, efficient - a pragmatist who does not think twice about killing, stealing or breaking any law that stands in the path of his job. Presumed highly dangerous, "the Gentleman" should be killed on sight by any self-respecting confederate.
Gender: Male
Rank: Grunt
Specialization: artillery (knows guns)
Current Assignment: None
Transcript-Arcturus U:
Engineering:A
Advanced Calculus:C
Astronomy:A
Political Science:C
Xeno Studies: D
Applied Physics:B
Combat Training:
C-14 Proficiency-Marksman
Spread Shot (don't know guns)
Bazzuca-proficiency
Survival Training(training to survive on hostile territories)
Field Repairs: If it shoots then old Blackhand has fixed it. That and the basic parts of a spaceship engine
Weapon of Choice:
Machine Gun
Spread Shot (a big shotgun)
Bazooka
Automatic Hand Gun
Psychological profile:
Jack is an X space pirate. After his capture he was ordered into military service to "repent" for his wrongs. The reason for this was Jack's proficiency in combat, navigation, and artillery. As a pirate he knew guns and stars. He is know for burst of violent and reported to be a mean tempered son of a *censored*
Physical Profile:
Blackhand stands at 6'4 and weighs in at 230 pounds of muscle. He has dark hair, eyes, and skin. A thick beard covers most of his face, though one can tell underneath he has a rough beat up face. His face is extremely furrowed and he is not a pretty man. Blackhand got his name from the fact his left hand is a cybernetic replacement. He originally lost his left arm on a raid on imperial forces while a rebel (before he turned space pirate). This arm is a gun metal black and makes not efforts to pretend to be a human arm. Though it is shaped like and functions like a human arm one can easily see all the gismos that compose the arm.
Blackhand also lost his left eye in combat (which he wears a patch over) and he really really hates to surprised on his left side and has been know to beat a man to a pulp for said offense.
Blackhand can often be seen wearing a t-shirt (most likely with horizontal stripes or just plain), bandanna (decorated with a skull and cross bones (though hi-tech guns replace the cutlasses), and baggy pants. He often carries his hand gun on his belt and his machine but strapped to his back. He likes to left people know he is not a man to mess with.
He also carries an assortment of cards, dice, and other gambling materials.
Apollo - If you don't mind coming in a little later, I have an idea for a good entrance for you. Or you can write your own - it's totally up to you.
One last thing - please post your name and specialization in bold at the beginning of each post like this:
James Fuller
Mechanics
The dropship's flight had been smooth so far - not like the bumpy, rattling atmospheric flight of the jerry-rigged ships I'm accustomed to. The recycled air has only the slightest hint of the metallic tang attached to it, the spotless white-and-steel interior gleams under the fluorescent lights, and the other tech-heads are strapped into black leather seats and harnesses without so much as a scratch on them. This dropship is one of the best in the fleet - one of the brand new DuGalle patterns. I'm not even qualified to field repair this ship, and that's a rare thing.
Why would the Dominion send such an expensive fleet to a planet like this? There are no important resources in significant amounts, no strategic signinficance to the location, no starship construction bays or any other important manufacturing facilities. After eliminating those possibilities, the only reason is that the Dominion really believes that there is a Protoss ship on the planet. Interesting.
As the ship shudders under the stress of deceleration, I pull up the readouts on my CEP's visor. Repulsorjets...nominal. Hull integrity...nominal. Landing gear...extended. Landing beacon...all releveant data recieved. Everything seems to be going well.
"So, what's your story?" It takes me a moment to realize the man is talking to me, and a few more to focus on him and come up with a suitable answer.
"I was last stationed at Detara. I'm here to fix things." I'm fairly proud of my concise, simple response.
"That's it? No homeplanet? No personal reasons for joining the corps? Nothing?"
Ah. He wants more information. "I came from Caliban. My first mission was there. I joined the corps because I could get good pay and get to deal with new devices." That answered his questions quite nicely, I think.
"All right, fine. Never mind." He seems annoyed. Oh well, I tried.
The doors slide smoothly open with the crisp hiss of pristine pneumatics and our harnesses ka-chunk open. I turn my HUD off and join the other techies filing off onto the pad.
The port is nothing special - a large pad where the rest of the dropships are disgorging their passengers, a control tower with several antennae and dishes on top, a large gate leading to the rest of the colony. Everything looks worn down by the ever-present light tan sand. Also, some of the walls and a few of the old atmospheric craft sport gashes left by Zergling claws and there are a few clusters of acid-craters from Hydralisk spines. All in all, a rather decrepit place.
There's a man in front of us. Why is there a man in front of...Ah. He's going to brief us. I should have expected that. Well, once everyone's out of their dropships we can hear what he has to say. I look briefly to my left and right to take stock of the disembarking progress - Goliaths disengaging and stomping formard...Vultures unlocking their magnetic clamps and zipping into formation...Marines...lot of Marines - and then back at the man to await further information.
Last edited by neosonichdghg; 27-03-2005 at 01:40 PM..
"Good. I hope the Zerg get a nice suprise when they come back for some vespine. Now, get home before a Hyrda spots you and decides it needs lunch. The Dominion sent a fleet, and I want you to get acquainted with the grunts."
"Be there in five minutes." And with that last transmission, I hit the engine on my Vulture and headed south towards the base. A normal Vulture would go a max of two-hundred thirty miles per hour, but with the ion boosters I added onto my little baby, I can speed through the wastelands on Gilbatrar at about two-sixty.
The silhouette of the port came up on the horizon not but a minute after I left the now mined vespine geyser... I could see the dropships coming down from the sky, ready to unload Marines, Firebats, Medics, and a whole array of armored vehichles, maybe even a few Vulture sqaudrons.
It didn't take long before I was back inside the garage. Their were a few arguments between the mechanics and newly arrived vulture pilots as where to put their bikes. This port really didn't have the facilities for such a large force without some planning. Hmm. Looks like somebodies about to give a briefing. I'm not with these guys, but this will probably apply to me as well, So I might aswell listen. I spot a man who looks to be a Dominion mechanic. Maybe this grease monkey will know what's going on. "Hey buddy, you know why you guys came? I know there was a Protoss ship floating around a while ago, but I didn't think Mensk was going to send an all out expidition force."
Linear Mode
