Everyday is Caturday Challenge Run

[Kamivax]

So in the version we are doing this run on (N7.0.4) the singing spear does charm damage and gives Femme Fatale Commendations, but when we check the Xpedia (which is admittedly for version N8), it says it should do warp damage with a resist type of charm, and should give unmaker commendations (since its doing warp damage), is it supposed to do Charm damage in Version N7.0.4?

[Yugian]

I have to say, I really dig that art as a Drakkar illustration.

Honestly, I got Really lucky stumbling onto that. Figured it was 'close enough', and it was a solid piece of art.

Also considering the Drakkar is The end game craft for us, It deserved a nice depiction. Its as much a character now as is our crew. Arguably far more disciplined too. 

Also, suuuuup Scorch. o/

[Kamivax]

Honestly, I got Really lucky stumbling onto that. Figured it was 'close enough', and it was a solid piece of art.

Also considering the Drakkar is The end game craft for us, It deserved a nice depiction. Its as much a character now as is our crew. Arguably far more disciplined too. 

Also, suuuuup Scorch. o/

It's not exactly fair to compare the discipline of cats and a literal machine

[Solarius Scorch]

Looking forward to the next episode! :3

[Yugian]

January 2604
Fireday

I was told two months. It was my Christmas gift. In my stable, now lays a black devil under my command. As fast as our flagship, with a combat load far closer aligned to our combat doctrine. A beauty of a dropship, and even capable of carrying tanks. It was everything I was promised, well under half the time that was needed. As I ponder this, I've come to realize that my FBB has been... exaggerating timelines to me. I've started to catch onto her little trick. Whilst not perfectly so, I've come to learn that any equation she's been throwing at me, has been divisible by a factor of four.

Giving her that box-set of Earth Xenophilia paraphernalia has been a monumental mistake. But the amount of work she puts out, and the joy she experiences in such matters is... I can excuse the quirks, I guess. Maybe. But that is besides the point.

Once more, I feel a foreboding as the new year comes about, despite the calm. This year was the first with the Claw-Warriors, and they certainly brought back old traditions to the base. It is only in our fourth year and their contrast- that I realize how much we've acclimated to earth tradition and culture. They held a silent vigil to the fallen- and we aimed to share gifts and joy to the base. They treated the season as somber melancholy, and we have adopted the spirit of revelry.

How quickly this planet and its customs have effected us. It explains why our Tribal cats were so swept up, so fast. How we became so... and how fast these Claw-Warriors may come to join us. But once more, besides the point.

I keep making side tangents- to distract myself from the gentle feeling dread that is upon us. I believe it was... Two years ago at this point, that I felt this very way. Or maybe just a year- The time flows so fast. Despite combat and despite the death... It has become normal. A campaign measured in the vast stretch. But it was on these days that I once again reflect and ponder- and know that our enemies are returning. An Ethereal task force came to seek us out: Figure out where we were and root us out. We parried and countered them as best as we could- but they have not deigned to return.

They will be returning soon, with how much we've established ourselves on this world. How much people have come to fear our 'sect'. Even in our simple efforts- our effectiveness in battle and blood spilt, we've established a new world order. The governments confer with us in our efforts to mediate their conflicts. They've betrayed information of where the factions establish their permanent installations in which they derive their power- and it was only just three days hence that we blew an entire academy center of learning sky high.

Nothing more then a crater. An offering of the truest faith to the destroyer.

It has been a slow road to get here, but our enemies move against us.  They know what we're capable of. We've proven time, and time again. Endlessly- in combat, the strength of our dominion. It is even now, that we start to reverse engineer the very technology of the Ethereals. We finally understand enough of their means- that we can bring valuable information back to the Empire.

Do I want to though? I have ruminated and pondered my navel for quite some time, but a choice is coming. Its coming soon. It has woven its way into my dreams- but one does not need the powers of a saint to feel it in their bones. Undoubtedly- my Claw-Sisters can feel this too. They have fought hard and long enough, been with me long enough to feel that the season of change is upon us once more. That they can feel that a decision must be made on the matter. That we will soon reach a point of no return.

To swear loyalty to our crown is one thing. To be bound by it is another. To write this, treasonous- and I could easily be sentenced to death for such thoughts. But such is the weight of crowns.

It is not upon us yet. But the signs will start to emerge. Then we will see what I rule over.

I needless to say, ruined Christmas by being a Sour Pus. I have only just recently recovered from being thrown in the hotbox and told that i needed to take a 'chillpill'. I don't like these 'chillpills'. I've only been cursed with introspective pondering and damned visions!

Stream is oVER!
It is in Light, where the Darkest Shadows are cast.

[Yugian]

January 29th, 2604
Shaday

The Files led us here.

An imposing metal door that could survive the test of time. Built into the side of a mountain- with enough snow to disguise the flat of a landing pad. We'd of thanked the designers to give us such a clean location to land the Drakkar, but. They're long dead. Had the defenses worked as intended either, we'd be cursing them instead for being bastards. But, that was neither here nor there.

Metal door, attached to a solid Plastasteel frame. Wide enough to accommodate a vehicle bay and... arguably tall enough for a Ethereal walker to go through. A curious design decision. Did Humanity invent their own war machines, before the end? Or was that the Knights of Cydonia? We knew that they made one desperate gamble to claim victory from an impossible situation... Maybe we got very lucky. Maybe we just found a cache. Their last testament on this world.

Or maybe its desperate thinking, as I can see my own breath in this cold. I can tolerate the chill and even I'm Starting to get bothered by it. We cant stay out here for long, and we have to get inside somehow.

"C-capnyan." One of the Claw-Sisters takes to my side, shivering. Even bundled up with furs and a scarf, even with that a funny hat of the Red Revolution and the little flaps on it- she cant handle this cold. She'd holding an 'Aye-Suite', something a bit fancier then just the 'Phone'. Motion, Radiation, Thermals- with a penetrating X-Ray Layer to see through it. The Knights however were far more clever then the average human, as it turned out.

"W-we cant tell what's inside... Radiation levels are present, but low. M-more like a leak, instead of an atmospheric effect. C-clean otherwise. T-The walls are lined with lead, and we cant get a deep scan. L-low level energy signatures are present, its why we likely didn't get shot coming in..."

I nod gently to her, hand resting on my hip as I breathe in deeply. Right. My ears flick with irritation- as I look to the door once more. "I see. Can we get through the doors with the codes we've gotten from the Russian files?" Otherwise, we were going to need the mining laser, and that could take a few minutes- if not more." A SolMine Geo Charge was going to be a bit much here and risked bringing an avalanche on our head. As much as 'Big Explosion' was tempting and a rapidly growing favorite amongst the crew.

"N-not without power from an external source."

I sigh sharply, and rub my face. Okay then. "Then get one of the bloody cables and hook in the onboard engine to the front doo-" Claxons then fired off. Everyone present immediately twisted to the sound- weapons up.

"Who the fark just triggered an alarm?!" "Wasn't me, I was too busy admiring the view!" "I'm providing overwatch- I aint anywhere NEAR!" Accusations go flying until the source of the sound is sourced. All guns turn to the kit standing in front of the keypad- her hands up as her comrades stare at her, blinking. Her knife instinctively drawn in the ready position- she'd just... thumbs towards the keypad- before clearing her voice. "You were all putting in the codes wrong!"

People lower their weapons. Some incredulously. Some amusedly. I step in as I pull up my cannon and motion with my head. "Alright Claw-Sisters, Come on! This doesn't mean this place is safe! Stack up- There might be more humanists on the other side- and we just rung the bloody doorbell!"

"Oh hell, more Nazi Prey? I didn't get my fill last time! I'll feast on their bone mar-"

"Shut it, or I'll feast on Your Bone Marrow!" Obediently, my sisters fall in line. Despite the levity, we all knew we were walking into the Lions den that wasn't ours. When we weren't going to tear our sisters a new one, we were predators upon the prey. Seconds feel like minutes, and minutes feel like hours as the doors struggle to animate. Fighting hundreds of years of abandonment, and several blankets of snow- only for its full function to be demanded. Patience was required. We were in no rush, and neither was the machinery.

Not unlike the aforementioned prey however, the doors would eventually yield. Lights would flick on- and we would storm inside. Breaching the entrance lobby with the fury of a stormtrooper- it was mercifully clear. That was before us was a service elevator- and no other way down. Well, at least we could all fit on the damn thing, gear and all. When the weight allowance was in full bloody Tonnage- no amount of us that could fit was going to make that thing hitch. So- once more, we exercised patience and got on the elevator. And slowly down did the gears grind, straining to operate past the rust and-

"Capnyan, can I have a smoke, now that im not freezing my bits off?" "No." "Empress damn you."

Sometimes, I forget I lead kittens.

With a reverberating stop that threatens to throw us off balance- we brace and ready to storm the facility. A Claw-sister mans the button to open the doors. We take a breath, and then we slam it- as hydraulic discharge reveals the sight of the base.

Its in a tragic state.

We barely get half out the door when Momentum dies. Whilst the interior has been preserved as best as it could be, its been hundreds of years. Wall paneling is falling off, lighting is faulty and there are bones. Human bones. Fanning out as we assess the damage, the soft hum of internal batteries and incandescent lights. It has a... Ire resemblance to Starlight in its design. At least, before we had our way with it. My hand drags against the wall- before looking to my fingers.

Not even a mote of dust at all. Hell of a thing, Plastasteel. At least, I assume so. The color is off- and it could be some other composite alloy...

I hear our boots echo throughout the facility- and I take it as my que to step forward in my own direction. I go where my feet tell me, and trust where my gut sends me. Its something I've learned to do, given all that has happened and the powers I command. It is not long before I am the first, though certainly not the last, to step into what seemed to be their heart. Their nexus- Where the Knights of Cydonia planned, observed and died. Their terminals are still abuzz- having powered on to meet their new masters, their holographic map of earth slowly animating to life. As I look around, the permanence of the walls reveals what the Knights called themselves- marked with a distinctive symbol.

An X. X-COM: UFO Defense. Vigilo Confido.

I hold up my hand up to the symbol- a bit beyond my reach, but I cannot help but ponder what they could of been like. How much hope they must of placed in these people. How proud they must of been to fight against the Ethereals... How far did they come to fail so close to their goal? Were they even alive to realize how far their people had fallen? Or was it all inevitable in the end?

Would we also inevitably fail? Or did humanity simply fail to become special? The weight of eons suddenly rests on my shoulders. I turn my head to overseers office above all, and the stairs leading up to it- before flicking my head to the Geoscape. I could look at it later. Shaking my head, I start the ascent up the metal steps to... What was obviously a sealed door with a keypad lock. Goddamnit. I slam my hand against the steel X infront of me- as if a target to hit, and growling in frustration. And there was nothing about a code for this door either- or rather. I don't know what it would be called, and I don't remember each one off the top of my head. So I just slam some of the buttons with my finger in an instinctive rage.

Then it clicks and lets me in. The hell? I would guess I got lucky, but... No. I've learned to not believe in that anymore. Or at the very least, to look twice. I peer at the code for future reference... 0451. Hah.

Stepping in- Stale air escaped and what was left was... a room. A simple thing that. I only saw the deck- but this was nothing more then a quarters for someone whom led this organization. A Captains quarters, one might even say. But it was filled with the mundane and the Xenological. On one hand, items for hobby. Ruined by the eons and inattentive care. On the other- Trophies of what was clearly the Ethereal forces. A mutons skull, mounted on the wall. A Recticulan weapon alongside a disassembled laser pistol... in a pattern I've never seen before.

The humans had access to Lasers before their fall. They had access to Good lasers.

Alongside it- there was a terminal, with a dull light. An audio file was left open- and was asking to be replayed. Without hesitation, my fingers drifted to the touch screen... How did I know it was one? Never mind. It responded to my touch- before the terminal would bark back at me. Thankfully, it was in Terran Common- so. I could understand it.

'Chief Agent Zander-

If you are hearing this, I am either dead, or incarcerated. Congratulations, you are now the Commander of XCOM. Treat her well- Or at least, better then I have.

As you are aware of, Witch Point was bombed out of existence and Men in Red barely weathered their last assault. We've transferred all industry here to Last Light, along with any spare equipment that could be afforded. Considering those bastards in the council are going to cut off our funding- Your going to need to lean on our contacts and start reselling weapons to anyone that'll buy them. Try the UAC corporation- They still owe us for that favor on the moon. Otherwise, do what you can to try and pilfer from what you can from the Golden Academy. Its a miracle that they're still around- but when your the favored child of the Ethereals, what can you do?

Your going to have some Ruskies come on by as well. Don't panic if this happens- they're still trusted allies. Not a single one of them wants to bend the knee, and thank god for it. Part of the compromise is access to our research labs. Yes, I do realize what this means, but considering our ass is to the wall right now, and that half of the known world has turned against us, seduced by power? Theres only so much we can do. We have to fight fire, with fire. Besides, I'm not against having the Ruskies armed with Turbolasers or whatever nonsense they come up with.

If your wondering where I've gone, I've taken the avenger along with the rest of the Crusade unit for an operation against the MiB. We're going for what we've suspected: That those traitors have the movements and permanent installations for the Aliens. As long as one of us can get that Rosetta Stone to you, we've a hope of finishing this fight. We've staging it as if we were going for a 'last desperate gamble'. Perhaps in some ways, it is. But you have to trade a cut for a kill, Zander. We're bringing enough ordinance to make this a grave for two. And if we cant make it out, they should be able to recognize my armor and the Ancient Katana. They'll know they 'got the commander' and that they have 'beheaded us'. That should buy you some time and space to figure out the rest.

We'll be launching from where it all started: From Starlight. Wish us luck. And should we not return, keep up the good fight, soldier.'

Well. Hell. That explains a lot. And shows how long we've been guided on this entire journey.

I slump my head against the counter- as I sigh deeply. I was not comfortable with this. But... We could review this later. Right now, I needed to download this information and get it on my Tac-Pad. Though, Turbolasers? Once I'm plugged in and starting the process- I flit back to the menu, Thank god I've got administrator access, and begin to browse what files there are. It looks like they had a Codex themselves- the 'UFOPedia'. I'd make a comment on the matter, but the Brainers named Ours the 'Bootypedia', so. Stones at glass houses. Thankfully easier to navigate too, given its got a search function.

It only takes a minute to find what I'm looking for. XCOM lives- if but in a small way. The old earth has yet to yield itself.

Stream is over!
I am watchful. I am Vigilant.

Edited: Fixed up a minor Lore Oopsy, and did some spell checking. Somehow missed some things on the first pass.

[Solarius Scorch]

Awesome scene. I enjoyed it a lot.

One point though: Zander was leading the Cydonia mission, not the original Commander. Not sure if this aligns with the text, though I may misunderstand it.

[Yugian]

Awesome scene. I enjoyed it a lot.

One point though: Zander was leading the Cydonia mission, not the original Commander. Not sure if this aligns with the text, though I may misunderstand it.

Naw, its my fuck up. A good eye, ser- and happy to admit fault to correct it. I actually ruminated on this for a moment and its thankfully a very easy fix. The Moon Missions Strike Again.

I'm glad it reads well. Admittedly whilst writing it, I felt it ran on a bit to 'get where its going'. But uh. Only so much detail you want to put in before it gets too wordy for a forum based format. Had some idea of maybe showing more of disheveled state of the base. Maybe making the audio recording one of the AI's a 'Keeper of the mission' to see the resolve of the Cats.

Maybe a return to this in a less 'updatey' fashion. I've wanted to write more stuff that isn't 'stream is live'- inbetween content. But, been busier then I like for awhile. Or, maybe there's a blessing in keeping it tight.

Spoiler:

I have admittedly read the Bootypedia for the Zander Files and trying to smoothly connect his ascension to the command seat, given the commander apparently is busted in 2005. I uh. must of somehow spaced he leads that. There's a little weirdness in mixing both Files Canon and GuavaMoment's Canon.

[Solarius Scorch]

Naw, its my fuck up. A good eye, ser- and happy to admit fault to correct it. I actually ruminated on this for a moment and its thankfully a very easy fix. The Moon Missions Strike Again.

Understandable. It's pretty hard to follow every detail, as there's no easy to read timeline.

Spoiler:

There's a little weirdness in mixing both Files Canon and GuavaMoment's Canon.

Heck, I'm not immune to that either. Probably the biggest hiccup are the origins of UAC. Dioxine has always intended the UAC to be created in late XXI century, as the last great initiative of independent Earth, but I misinterpreted it and wrote UAC to already be active in the 1990's. This remains a major continuity problem which I don't know how to solve...

[Yugian]

Understandable. It's pretty hard to follow every detail, as there's no easy to read timeline.

Heck, I'm not immune to that either. Probably the biggest hiccup are the origins of UAC. Dioxine has always intended the UAC to be created in late XXI century, as the last great initiative of independent Earth, but I misinterpreted it and wrote UAC to already be active in the 1990's. This remains a major continuity problem which I don't know how to solve...

To be fair, both situations Can be true. Given the UAC is a bit more shadowy in files- it could of just been that the remnants of what's left of the Old Earth folded in and they became a more Public figure in XXI. From what I understand- the UAC Corporation is more subsidiary to BlackOps/Syndicate During the 90's. Not unlike the Lotus going from 'Shadow Cult that worships the Golden Lady' to 'School for children and maybe a few psykers, we swear only good intentions.' 

The fun part of a wonky timeline is details get messy and loosely connecting dots are acceptable.

Edit: Nnnnnope, misremembered that connection too. Gaaah.

Spoiler:

And now i realize im getting more spoilery for your own stuff- They are fighting a Civil war within their own organization. Considering XCOM goes in, cleans up their house and deals with the first 'wave' of invasion from the Demons/Shadowrealm, alongside trashing their parent company, it is exactly the situation that allows them to go independent and 'pay back the favor' they owe XCOM by being Humanities last light. Short of XCOM itself, of course.

[Solarius Scorch]

Yes, I see it in a similar way. But Dioxine's vision was different, and it was first, so I still consider it a problem...

Anyway, looking forward to the next episode.

[Yugian]

April 6th, 2604
Bloomsday

Im starting to neglect my work.

I've been pouring over the UFOPedia we've recovered from Last Light. I've been forwarding useful technical read outs to the Brainers and Herbalists, as is their want. The Brainers are Ogling over the new laser designs, and the herbalists keep them in line to ensure they don't make a giant laser discoball or something. There was a notary of some safety instructions regarding it in their Codex- Apparently we would not be the first to try that trick.

That killed their enthusiasm pretty fast.

But that's not what I find fascinating. There's time Capsules in here. Apparently- they were prepared for the potential future (That sadly came to pass) in which Humanity would find itself in a dark age. That they would not be able to beat back the Alien invasion. There is... Cultural data here. Maps of the old world. Governments and how people lived. Music, foods. Some works from a guy who shook spears or some nonsense. Overly wordy for my tastes but extrapolates some of the 'middle ages' for us. But this is beyond what the recorded testament's of the old earth books were talking about. More then just the history of how things came to be: Its a library full of-

"Capnyan. The Red Mage is knocking on the front door- she's wondering when the accommodations will be complete."

I glaze my eyes up to a familiar black tabby for a moment. Or is she black?... Okay. No. She is. I haven't glazed my eyes into oblivion yet. I flick my hand off handedly, probably sounding more tired then I mean to- my eyes lowering back down to my scripture.

"Tell her to ask the Herbalists. I don't happen to have rooms made of crystal lattice and inscribed with symbols- and do you want to get Squirrel out of hers?"

She chafes under statement- but silently relents. Smart kit, neither of us want to go in there. Its practically otherworldly at this point. And thus, I go back to reading for a moment. Looking back, this was probably a mistake. I can hear a pin drop in another room, yet right now my ears were practically plugged with fluff- didn't hear what she said. Then she speaks again.

"She's been asking for assistants for some help. Do you mind?" "Mmhm. If she needs help, go and... Bloody help her." "And she wants the simulacrum parts." "Okay. We're not using them for anything." "And the Zortrium crystals-"

I look up with an unamused stare as the questions keep coming. I swear I caught a glimpse of a... Devilish smile? But my ears flick irritably, my tone growing sharper. "Look, whatever she needs- I'm Sure we can provide her. My patience is being tested here, is there anything else you need?" I'd then hold up a finger. "Wait. Hold on. When was the Red Mage here-?"

Now she's definately grinning. Smug tribal cat shit. Her tail flicks with bemusement- before speaking up. "During Christmas time. Dont you remember? She came on by with wine and-"

I hold up my hand, groaning irritably. "There's your reasoning. Probably got so smashed for new years I forgot again. Fine. Okay. She's here. We're getting her a room. Get her what she wants." My eyes drift low, if but for a second.

She nods- bowing her head before moving to leave. "She'll make us whole again..." My ears shoot up, eyebrows raised. "Make us what?"

"Nothing- Capnyan."

She departs, and I sigh softly. Very well. At least I can get back to my reading. So, what was this about the French and their crepes?

"Capnyan, Capnyan!" A kit, one of the newer members of the crew, marked with ebony hair and a bandana crashes through my door, My door goes flying off it hinge as I watch it go flying into my wall. Thank the empress it didn't hit any of my valuables, but I am needless to say, thoroughly unamused. Raising up with a deathly stare, i'd motion with my hand. A silent insinuation to speak, before I went to get my beat stick and find it walloping her head. I see a flicker of shame, before she speaks up. "Your needed on the bridge! The ninjas are making moves!"

"The Ninjas...?" Did I forget about them too? Good god. I really have been reading too much. I make a quick note of the sister in question, before grabbing my gun and my Zwei- I'd motion the Kit in question. "Claw-Sister, whats your name?" My voice is firm, authoritative. Im not in a mood.

"They call me Kingdom Knight!" Pretentious. But I suppose she does look regal- adorned as a warrior should be. "Fine. Lead the way. But the door is coming out of your pay." "Whaaaaat?! Come on-" "MOVE."

It doesn't take us long to get to the command deck. A chorus of salutes greets my entrance- as I move to take my throne. I snap my fingers and motion to the communications officer: My orders are clear. Bring up the Geoscape. And so she does: Numerous red dots are spreading out. Tracking Data for what was a fleet of Jet fighters securing the Airspace around the world. Screening for coverage against enemy factions... Notably, us. A manifesto has been sent to us.

'To the Vile pirates of this world:

You do not belong here. You are Anathema to our very existence. Your belief in the demon gods alone marks you for death. That you are marked as their chosen- is a mistake we have let fester for too long. But not only that, they have chosen an outsider: A Foreigner. An Alien to be their ally. We have meditated on this truth and it has been revealed. You were not to be our chosen enemy- to prove ourselves against a worthy foe. Your existence is a defiance of what should have been, and will be. We declare war on you, Half-Breed. We resist you, as mutant kind resists the star gods. The difference is that we shall succeed.

Should you wish to spare the rest of your degenerate kind, you may surrender yourself and your leadership. Otherwise, we shall purge every soul whom is of Nekomimi stock. Your blood shall be offered to the Liberator, and we will suffer no stain of your Pirate culture OR filth to remain on this world.

Prepare yourself. The Shadowmasters will be watching.'

My grip tightens. My gaze sharpens. I growl sharply- as I look to my communications offer. "Where did the declaration come from?"

"Unknown, but all Hyper-Pulses are tracking the Origin point of the various missions from the Antarctic!"

Clever. We cant merely just assault that. They chose a fortification point to specifically target our weaknesses. And right when we are tasked by the empress to fight back against the star gods, an already daunting task regarding our equipment... My better judgement leaves me. I stomp back up to my feet, my hand emphaises the movement. I speak with fury and fire in my voice.

"Launch every fighter we have. I do not want to see a single goddamn ninja in My skies. Quartermaster, Ensure that we are Well stocked on our 'Warcrime' rounds, and ensure no claw-sister goes without CRY-Gas. For every drop of Mrrshan blood they spill, I will ensure that their mutated blood burns like the fires of Phlegeton! I will Scour and scalp them, and for every badge a sister brings me? I will ensure an extra share of rum and a golden credit chit!"

I mask my anger with zeal, and conceal my feelings in the joy of my crew- whom are already happy to pursue the genocide of our enemy. But for me, its personal.

They knew where to stab to hit my heart.

Stream is Over!
The Shadowmasters will be watching.