Reverse Engineering For Fun and Profit (Planetary Annihilation/Multicross SI)
OverReactionGuy
Verified Sanity
The Geth will never be the same again.
TikiTau
Commander Pangolinski
- Location
- Texas
It is a mystery to everyone.Even as President, we will never know the Magistrate's name.
- Pronouns
- she/her
Magistrate. President Magistrate.
Mystery solved!
Mystery solved!
TikiTau
Commander Pangolinski
- Location
- Texas
yeeeeeeup.
I was just the last one to move my story along to ME, because I'm a terrible person. *grins*
well, that, and every time I thought I'd finished, my muse would Colombo me.
'Oh...one more thing...' 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'
Massgamer
Advance toward the Future
- Location
- The Future
Nice way to close up Starcraft and you can always come visit again later if you want while what units you left behind helps keeps eyes on things.
On the plus side you will eventually be talking with peers.
- Location
- Belfast
What I want to know is, how are the Protos gonna view Drich?
Khan_Panther
My Muse stole my Necronomicon & pen
- Location
- Huh, I'm right here trapped in these words of mine
Protoss view Gamma as ally / friend.
Drich will probably come across as a more evolved commander. After all the whole point of a Commander is Conquest / Expansion and what-ever else may come.
Essentially in my headcannon, using StraCraft terminology to explain it. A Commander is what happens when you take a primal zerg and let it spawn minions, then you messily convert said zerg mess into robots that are BESRMoW.
A Xel' Naga.
Well, after leaving contingency after contingency, Koprulu's gonna be as secure as it can be. Even if the Terrans and Protoss roll several Nat 1s in a row for diplomacy for some reason, keeping Commander Clorarion's existence a secret would make sure make sure someone's still there to put out any fires that might come up.
Also, with his experience with the Purifiers, I'm guessing Commander Pangolin's not gonna have too hard a time interacting with the Geth... unless these are the Heretics, if so, no big loss if they're turned into cooling clouds of plasma.
Honestly? I really like Tiki's PA fic out of the others. The genre (if we can call it that) tends to bury the details in macroscale warfare, gratuitous dakka, and tech porn. Any ripples (read: tidal waves) the commanders make are mostly shown in a planetary scale at minimum.
Tiki, by introducing boat loads of interesting groundside characters, had kept the PoV on a more personal scale. Thus more relatable (and IMO more enjoyable). My personal favorite scene still remains the Nova rescue op with Agents Black and White, the second being Pyre 001's rampage.
So in the coming Commander Effect Pandemonium, Tiki might not have nigh-ROB powers or the shiniest tech, but he has the most interesting and fun bunch traveling with him.
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pheonix89
Wants to be Seven Of Nine
- Location
- North American Plaguelands
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Who doesn't feed undergunned compared to Drichmander? Buster Machine pilots?
Faith also out guns Tiki.
Eh, I like the Tinman best of all the PA-SIs for pretty much the same reasons as defenestrator. He's honestly fun, and the fact that he's dragging a bunch of interesting characters with him makes it even better.
If we're going by favourite scenes in this, I'll put up the whole Hippocrates boarding action, Alarak getting bombed and the mellowed Aldaris feeling magnanimous (for about 10 seconds). Agents Black and White shenanigans are always fun, and there was a chapter which started with "Sun Tzu pondered..." which really made my day.
If we're going by favourite scenes in this, I'll put up the whole Hippocrates boarding action, Alarak getting bombed and the mellowed Aldaris feeling magnanimous (for about 10 seconds). Agents Black and White shenanigans are always fun, and there was a chapter which started with "Sun Tzu pondered..." which really made my day.
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'ed
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Alayne
The Reader
- Location
- Home of the Vikings
And ninja'd a bit but I come with LINKS!
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Interlude 1
TikiTau
Commander Pangolinski
- Location
- Texas
Interlude 1
A/N: Interludes are quasi-omakes, just things that happen that don't necessarily affect the main plot at the time. They also have no guarantee of continuation in a timely fashion, being more of a 'well, this is happening elsewhere' and the subject's misadventures may or may not get more detail. ...they also tend to be written to amuse me.~
xXxXx
New Gettysberg Institute of Technology Theoretical Physics Lab. May 18th, Terran Year 2504
Master Sergeant Leeroy Gibbs looked suspiciously at the nice doctor fella who had been waxin' and extollin' the virtues of this brandspankin' new suit of marine armor standing in the center of the room.
Mind, Leeroy figured that he might have some cause for it. He'd dozed off durin' the spiel, but the bit with the onboard ammo manufactury, the super big battery, the fancy guns, the laser swords, the jump jet...Those all sounded well and good.
However…
"...Yer sure this telly-portin' thing is safe?"
Doc Stettman waved a hand expansively. "Of course! The test models have worked extensively! We haven't had a failure in months!"
...Well, that seems legit! "Right then, Doc. So, um...Where's the release switch to open that sucker up?"
The Doc grinned wider. Huh. Worryin'. "Oh, you'll see. This is so cool. Ahem. PT-A-1, Unlock!"
...Voice activated? Huh. Leeroy wasn't sure he was fond of that. Still, as the armor unfolded, he eyed it warily for a moment before sighin'. Ah, heck, Mama Gibbs done raised herself a bit of a fool, he supposed. He shoulda remembered ol' Gunny Hernandez' instructions on survivin' in the military:
'Never Volunteer For Nuthin.'
As he moved towards the suit, he let out a huh. "Bigger than the standard design, Doc."
A cloud of cigar smoke announced the reassurin' presence of the Institute's local Engineer. "Eh, bit bulkier, that's all. Well, whatcha waiting for? Get in the tincan. Should be perfectly safe. My boys did the assembly, not Stettman."
An Engineer said it was safe! Gibbs perked right up. Man, he was worried for a second.
As he slid into the shiny new armor, Gibbs blinked as he felt the inside shift around him. Mister Swann, casually watching a readout on his wrist computer, waved a hand pre-emptively. "Eh, new smart gel inner layer. Should make a more comfortable fit and help with shock. I know the ol' 300s tend to rattle like beans in a can when there's a big enough impact, even if the armor holds."
Gibbs closed his mouth, question answered. Well, not like they were wrong…
As the unsettlin' shiftin' about finally finished, a pleasant baritone voice echoed in his ear. "Good afternoon, Test User. I am the suit's onboard management and diagnostic intelligence. My current designation is Ptah."
...Was it spittin' at 'em? Gibbs blinked. "Well, excuse ya, buddy. I didn't know computers could sneeze. That mean ya got a virus?"
The voice paused. "...My designation is 'Ptah'. I do not have the organs necessary to sneeze."
Oh. Well. "Ehhh...I'm gonna call ya Tater. I can pronunciate that proper like."
The computer sounded...resigned? Huh, must be his imagination. "New designation logged. Beginning armor bootup."
As the suit of armor folded around him, Gibbs whistled. Mighty fancy!
Rory kept talking as he watched the usual diagnostics running and projected on the suit's collar. "Right then, Gumbo. This sucker's pretty sensitive. The smart gel helps translate muscle movement. Might take a bit to get calibrated. You jump, it jumps. You jump HARD, the jumpjets kick in. We're runnin' you through a live fire test, to boot, so we're gonna test the teleporter, then you'll run a test range when we're done. First jump's just across the room. Jimmy suggested we make it authentic, so your suit's got a full combat load."
Tater helpfully projected small holograms, pointing out functions. "Blades deploy based on hand motion. The suit's adjutant has the full manual. Same for the energy shield. Yer packin' a shiny new L-03 Vladimir Gauss Rifle. Mag clamps, five hundred round clip, ten spare clips and the suit can build more spikes. Just shovel scrap metal into the hopper when its deployed. Pretty much like using your standard Impaler, anyhoo. Point, hold trigger down, hope it dies first. We've got a bunch of sensors on there, but you shouldn't need 'em for this test. You ready, then?"
Leeroy grinned, familiar with a number of the features already, adapting quickly after years spent in one suit of armor or another. "You betcha, Mister Swann!"
Rory slapped his armor pauldron, grinning. "Alright then! Yo, Shiny! Start the countdown. Stetmman, get behind cover, dammit!"
The others retreated, leaving Leeroy standing in the middle of the room, humming lightly.
As the countdown continued, Tater helpfully showin' all sorts of pretty gauges and the like dancin' across the inside of his helmet's HUD, he felt a low whine from the jump-a-majig built into his suit.
As it began to reach a peak, Leeroy twitched. And then...he sneezed.
"WAH-"
xXxXx
Swann watched the test suit with a sense of anticipation. Sure, teleportation wasn't outta the question with bigger objects and setups...but this was the first practicalTerran-made teleporter!
As the countdown hit 0, Shiny slammed a fist into a button, and Leeroy's suit vanished in a crackle of light.
…
As long moments passed, the three observers glanced at each other, then the landing pad across the room.
Rory's shoulders slumped as he spoke for the trio. "Well...Shit."
xXxXx
Location: Unknown
"-CHOO!"
Leeroy Gibbs blinked as he reappeared, trying to get them annoyin' spots out of his eyes. "...Huh. Tater, where are we? This ain't the test chamber."
Tater responded. "Correct. Location Unknown. Network: Not found. Suggest Examination of surroundings."
Gibbs looked about, straightening, his suit whirring to life as he let out a quiet sigh. "Man, this is why I avoid Science, Tater. It never goes right."
"Opinion Logged."
Well, the box he was in was pretty simple to figger out. He was in an elevator, obviously. Pushin' the 'open' button, the doors slid open.
The hallway beyond made Gibbs whistle. "Man, someone needs to fire their cleanin' crew. This place is a wreck. Lessee…"
Trundling out of the elevator, Gibbs idly thanked the suit's computer as it flipped his headlamp on. Glancing about, he examined the hall he'd ended up in. "Lessee...Elevator bank...Storage...Janitor...Flight Lounge? Promisin'."
Jogging down the hallway, Gibbs paused as Tater flashed an alert on his HUD. "Alert. Alert. Gunfire detected. Screams detected."
Frowning, Gibbs paused, then reached down. The Vladimr unclamped from his hip, and, testing, Gibbs made sure that he could deploy the energy shield the Doc had been ramblin' about. Satisfied, he began to cautiously move towards the noise.
Well, that was the plan.
The screaming guy in a hardsuit sprinting down the hallway, a horde of clawed flesh on his tail, interrupted that. "Holeee shit!"
Gibbs didn't have to think, his finger closing the trigger, the Vladimir roaring as heavy spikes ripped downrange into the horde of pointy death, the other fella running past him towards the elevator. "Awwwww, crap! The fuck are the Zerg doin' here?! Dammit, Doc!"
Tater, for its part, was unruffled, examining the oncoming rate of advance, calmly highlighting the foremost targets for Gibbs to shoot. As his first magazine ran dry, Tater calmly spoke up. "Rate of advance unacceptable. Deploying incendiary. Deploying shield."
A low 'fwoomph' echoed from his shoulder, the projectile whistling downrange into the oncoming mess before it exploded.
The horde of pointy death screamed as some fancy falutin' chemical sprayed all over 'em, coating them and igniting as it contacted air and flesh, chewing its way backwards into the horde, the bonfire egged on by Tater firin' more of the grenades.
Finally, with a last squeal, the horde of Zerglin' things stopped, ash and flame the only things left.
"Hoooooweee...Good shootin', Tater!"
"Logged."
Turning and reloading, Leeroy paced towards the other feller who'd backed into the elevator, his helmet staring up at the towering powered armor.
Man, civilians. Like they ain't never seen power armor before.
"Tater, you know what type of Zerg we got?"
The suit's computer paused, comparing sensor data to archived data. "Negative. Zero percent match with Logged Zerg Phenotypes. A hundred percent match with human material. Zero life readings were detected in the previous hostile group. One human life sign matched to the human in the elevator."
Gibbs paused, eyes wide. "Whoa. Y'know what this means, Tater?"
"Unknown."
Gibbs pointed down the hall, where the flames from the incendiary grenade continued to spitefully claw at the metal of the deck. "WE GOT AILIUM ZOMBIES, TATER! AILIUM ZOMBIES!"
As Gibbs paced back into the elevator to ask the local why in tarnation they had Alien Zombies on their ship, he missed some of the fire light illuminating a conveniently placed sign.
USG Ishimura, Flight Deck, Elevator Bank 1.
A/N: Interludes are quasi-omakes, just things that happen that don't necessarily affect the main plot at the time. They also have no guarantee of continuation in a timely fashion, being more of a 'well, this is happening elsewhere' and the subject's misadventures may or may not get more detail. ...they also tend to be written to amuse me.~
xXxXx
New Gettysberg Institute of Technology Theoretical Physics Lab. May 18th, Terran Year 2504
Master Sergeant Leeroy Gibbs looked suspiciously at the nice doctor fella who had been waxin' and extollin' the virtues of this brandspankin' new suit of marine armor standing in the center of the room.
Mind, Leeroy figured that he might have some cause for it. He'd dozed off durin' the spiel, but the bit with the onboard ammo manufactury, the super big battery, the fancy guns, the laser swords, the jump jet...Those all sounded well and good.
However…
"...Yer sure this telly-portin' thing is safe?"
Doc Stettman waved a hand expansively. "Of course! The test models have worked extensively! We haven't had a failure in months!"
...Well, that seems legit! "Right then, Doc. So, um...Where's the release switch to open that sucker up?"
The Doc grinned wider. Huh. Worryin'. "Oh, you'll see. This is so cool. Ahem. PT-A-1, Unlock!"
...Voice activated? Huh. Leeroy wasn't sure he was fond of that. Still, as the armor unfolded, he eyed it warily for a moment before sighin'. Ah, heck, Mama Gibbs done raised herself a bit of a fool, he supposed. He shoulda remembered ol' Gunny Hernandez' instructions on survivin' in the military:
'Never Volunteer For Nuthin.'
As he moved towards the suit, he let out a huh. "Bigger than the standard design, Doc."
A cloud of cigar smoke announced the reassurin' presence of the Institute's local Engineer. "Eh, bit bulkier, that's all. Well, whatcha waiting for? Get in the tincan. Should be perfectly safe. My boys did the assembly, not Stettman."
An Engineer said it was safe! Gibbs perked right up. Man, he was worried for a second.
As he slid into the shiny new armor, Gibbs blinked as he felt the inside shift around him. Mister Swann, casually watching a readout on his wrist computer, waved a hand pre-emptively. "Eh, new smart gel inner layer. Should make a more comfortable fit and help with shock. I know the ol' 300s tend to rattle like beans in a can when there's a big enough impact, even if the armor holds."
Gibbs closed his mouth, question answered. Well, not like they were wrong…
As the unsettlin' shiftin' about finally finished, a pleasant baritone voice echoed in his ear. "Good afternoon, Test User. I am the suit's onboard management and diagnostic intelligence. My current designation is Ptah."
...Was it spittin' at 'em? Gibbs blinked. "Well, excuse ya, buddy. I didn't know computers could sneeze. That mean ya got a virus?"
The voice paused. "...My designation is 'Ptah'. I do not have the organs necessary to sneeze."
Oh. Well. "Ehhh...I'm gonna call ya Tater. I can pronunciate that proper like."
The computer sounded...resigned? Huh, must be his imagination. "New designation logged. Beginning armor bootup."
As the suit of armor folded around him, Gibbs whistled. Mighty fancy!
Rory kept talking as he watched the usual diagnostics running and projected on the suit's collar. "Right then, Gumbo. This sucker's pretty sensitive. The smart gel helps translate muscle movement. Might take a bit to get calibrated. You jump, it jumps. You jump HARD, the jumpjets kick in. We're runnin' you through a live fire test, to boot, so we're gonna test the teleporter, then you'll run a test range when we're done. First jump's just across the room. Jimmy suggested we make it authentic, so your suit's got a full combat load."
Tater helpfully projected small holograms, pointing out functions. "Blades deploy based on hand motion. The suit's adjutant has the full manual. Same for the energy shield. Yer packin' a shiny new L-03 Vladimir Gauss Rifle. Mag clamps, five hundred round clip, ten spare clips and the suit can build more spikes. Just shovel scrap metal into the hopper when its deployed. Pretty much like using your standard Impaler, anyhoo. Point, hold trigger down, hope it dies first. We've got a bunch of sensors on there, but you shouldn't need 'em for this test. You ready, then?"
Leeroy grinned, familiar with a number of the features already, adapting quickly after years spent in one suit of armor or another. "You betcha, Mister Swann!"
Rory slapped his armor pauldron, grinning. "Alright then! Yo, Shiny! Start the countdown. Stetmman, get behind cover, dammit!"
The others retreated, leaving Leeroy standing in the middle of the room, humming lightly.
As the countdown continued, Tater helpfully showin' all sorts of pretty gauges and the like dancin' across the inside of his helmet's HUD, he felt a low whine from the jump-a-majig built into his suit.
As it began to reach a peak, Leeroy twitched. And then...he sneezed.
"WAH-"
xXxXx
Swann watched the test suit with a sense of anticipation. Sure, teleportation wasn't outta the question with bigger objects and setups...but this was the first practicalTerran-made teleporter!
As the countdown hit 0, Shiny slammed a fist into a button, and Leeroy's suit vanished in a crackle of light.
…
As long moments passed, the three observers glanced at each other, then the landing pad across the room.
Rory's shoulders slumped as he spoke for the trio. "Well...Shit."
xXxXx
Location: Unknown
"-CHOO!"
Leeroy Gibbs blinked as he reappeared, trying to get them annoyin' spots out of his eyes. "...Huh. Tater, where are we? This ain't the test chamber."
Tater responded. "Correct. Location Unknown. Network: Not found. Suggest Examination of surroundings."
Gibbs looked about, straightening, his suit whirring to life as he let out a quiet sigh. "Man, this is why I avoid Science, Tater. It never goes right."
"Opinion Logged."
Well, the box he was in was pretty simple to figger out. He was in an elevator, obviously. Pushin' the 'open' button, the doors slid open.
The hallway beyond made Gibbs whistle. "Man, someone needs to fire their cleanin' crew. This place is a wreck. Lessee…"
Trundling out of the elevator, Gibbs idly thanked the suit's computer as it flipped his headlamp on. Glancing about, he examined the hall he'd ended up in. "Lessee...Elevator bank...Storage...Janitor...Flight Lounge? Promisin'."
Jogging down the hallway, Gibbs paused as Tater flashed an alert on his HUD. "Alert. Alert. Gunfire detected. Screams detected."
Frowning, Gibbs paused, then reached down. The Vladimr unclamped from his hip, and, testing, Gibbs made sure that he could deploy the energy shield the Doc had been ramblin' about. Satisfied, he began to cautiously move towards the noise.
Well, that was the plan.
The screaming guy in a hardsuit sprinting down the hallway, a horde of clawed flesh on his tail, interrupted that. "Holeee shit!"
Gibbs didn't have to think, his finger closing the trigger, the Vladimir roaring as heavy spikes ripped downrange into the horde of pointy death, the other fella running past him towards the elevator. "Awwwww, crap! The fuck are the Zerg doin' here?! Dammit, Doc!"
Tater, for its part, was unruffled, examining the oncoming rate of advance, calmly highlighting the foremost targets for Gibbs to shoot. As his first magazine ran dry, Tater calmly spoke up. "Rate of advance unacceptable. Deploying incendiary. Deploying shield."
A low 'fwoomph' echoed from his shoulder, the projectile whistling downrange into the oncoming mess before it exploded.
The horde of pointy death screamed as some fancy falutin' chemical sprayed all over 'em, coating them and igniting as it contacted air and flesh, chewing its way backwards into the horde, the bonfire egged on by Tater firin' more of the grenades.
Finally, with a last squeal, the horde of Zerglin' things stopped, ash and flame the only things left.
"Hoooooweee...Good shootin', Tater!"
"Logged."
Turning and reloading, Leeroy paced towards the other feller who'd backed into the elevator, his helmet staring up at the towering powered armor.
Man, civilians. Like they ain't never seen power armor before.
"Tater, you know what type of Zerg we got?"
The suit's computer paused, comparing sensor data to archived data. "Negative. Zero percent match with Logged Zerg Phenotypes. A hundred percent match with human material. Zero life readings were detected in the previous hostile group. One human life sign matched to the human in the elevator."
Gibbs paused, eyes wide. "Whoa. Y'know what this means, Tater?"
"Unknown."
Gibbs pointed down the hall, where the flames from the incendiary grenade continued to spitefully claw at the metal of the deck. "WE GOT AILIUM ZOMBIES, TATER! AILIUM ZOMBIES!"
As Gibbs paced back into the elevator to ask the local why in tarnation they had Alien Zombies on their ship, he missed some of the fire light illuminating a conveniently placed sign.
USG Ishimura, Flight Deck, Elevator Bank 1.
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Generic_Generica
Notice me Senpai~
- Location
- Right behind you
...
(Snickers)
Poor Leeroy. Poor. POOR Leeroy.
(Snickers)
Poor Leeroy. Poor. POOR Leeroy.
- Location
- Wall Gazing
YEEESSSSssssssssssssssssssss
If Gamma ever manages to move his ass to Dead Space, he'll find Leeroy Gibbs, HERO OF THE IMPERIUM(?) + 'Tater alive and kicking ass. I bet he'll work well with Isaac, he's an Engineer after all.
And say what you might about ol' Leeroy, but he's very very good at guessing what the hell all these aliens really are.
And say what you might about ol' Leeroy, but he's very very good at guessing what the hell all these aliens really are.
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