InsaneCat
It ends in Fire?
Xeno Major said:
Well, My GPU was (and still is) broken for almost a year now. With the one I'm running now I'm not able to play anything newer that 6 years old game.rifleman101 said:
Terran Ingenuity (Starcraft x Mass Effect)
- Thread starter Xeno Major
- Start date
-
- Tags
- mass effect starcraft
SemiSaneAuthor
TARDIS powered by Snark, Spite, and Tea!
- Location
- Sol-3, Memetic Quarantined World - For English
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It could be worse, my tower which I use to write my novel crashes when I try to play Age of Empires 2. The only game I can get to work on it is Shogun: Total War.InsaneCat said:
SemiSaneAuthor
TARDIS powered by Snark, Spite, and Tea!
- Location
- Sol-3, Memetic Quarantined World - For English
- Pronouns
- They/Them
It's XP, it comes with the territory.ParanoidSchizo said:
That's weird.
UFO Aftermath doesn't work and neither does the Sims, so other than conquering Japan for a few enjoyable hours, I've been concentrating on my writing. But time to end the Derail, what would happen if Xeno's insert in Aria's Advisor ended up in the Terran Ingenuity 'verse?
Fairfield
Live Ammo Has No Effect
Bad things probably. Can you give me a short summary on the SI story?SemiSaneAuthor said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
http://forums.sufficientvelocity.com/threads/arias-advisor-mass-effect-si.3684/
Basically, I run around the Mass Effect 'verse being an asshole and somehow not dying, despite Realism being in effect.
Basically, I would go straight to Raynor and tell him everything about the Mass Effect 'verse, while using a sufficiently powerful Ghost to confirm the truth of my statements.
Despite the grim and dark nature of the Starcraft 'verse, I would feel confidant enough to explain the truth to Raynor almost immediately, given his firm status as a Good Guy.
Mind you, I'd still be wary of Tosh and most of the Ghosts/Spectres, but I'd trust Raynor with my life.
After that, I teach Raynor and all the important figures about the Mass Effect 'verse, and start ramping up research, development, and production. I'd stay away from Aria, because she has no reason to trust me and vice versa, and I'd stick firmly with the Terrans.
And, of course, I'd probably team up with Nova or another Ghost to start trolling the Council.
Basically, I run around the Mass Effect 'verse being an asshole and somehow not dying, despite Realism being in effect.
I'd be following the same rules as my SI, so no Psi powers, just everything I have in real life, plus no Mass Effect tech, though I would have my memories from my time on Omega.SemiSaneAuthor said:
Basically, I would go straight to Raynor and tell him everything about the Mass Effect 'verse, while using a sufficiently powerful Ghost to confirm the truth of my statements.
Despite the grim and dark nature of the Starcraft 'verse, I would feel confidant enough to explain the truth to Raynor almost immediately, given his firm status as a Good Guy.
Mind you, I'd still be wary of Tosh and most of the Ghosts/Spectres, but I'd trust Raynor with my life.
After that, I teach Raynor and all the important figures about the Mass Effect 'verse, and start ramping up research, development, and production. I'd stay away from Aria, because she has no reason to trust me and vice versa, and I'd stick firmly with the Terrans.
And, of course, I'd probably team up with Nova or another Ghost to start trolling the Council.
- Location
- Ekaterinburg, Russia
I wonder what would happen if Aria got a memory dump from her twenty-years-in-the-future version (either from canon or from Advisor) at about the same time - only to learn it's not the same humanity.Xeno Major said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Some thinly veiled expies of starcraft pros will also be showing up as characters later. Not commanding, but doing grunt work as soldiers.
Actual knowledge of pro starcraft players is not needed to enjoy them fully.
At this time, I can confirm IdrA as a Viking pilot.
Actual knowledge of pro starcraft players is not needed to enjoy them fully.
At this time, I can confirm IdrA as a Viking pilot.
InsaneCat
It ends in Fire?
How much IrdA rage will we see?Xeno Major said:
InsaneCat
It ends in Fire?
IdrA is know for RAGE QUITING, and RAGE in general.Hazard said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Thanks again to Tikitau and Tabi for Betaing and Editing
Chapter 1 (Snip 4)
"I can't shake him! Spirits, I can't shake him!"
"Cut your core's power and drop altitude!" Calixto snapped, twisting his own fighter through a series of tight maneuvers. "Do it-"
"I can't-" the panicking pilot started to say, before cutting into static.
Damn it, Calixto thought to himself, scowling as the pilot's Besra-class fighter plummeted to the earth, half of it's mass seared off by the laser fire of the lighter craft.
The two types of Terran fighters were a mixed bag of technology, almost as if they came from two different schools of thought.
One fighter was a slim, speedy craft that was outfitted with both laser batteries on it's wingtips and cloaking technology, while the other was a hulking, slower fighter that used much more simplistic gatling cannons and missiles, but possessed the ability to transform into a combat walker.
It was as if these Terrans had copied the design philosophies of both the Salarians and the Elcor! Madness!
Honestly, Calixto had thought to himself when he first viewed one of the latter, who designs a transforming fighter? The lack of efficiency aside, the stress on the pilot must be monumental!
The transforming fighters (nicknamed 'Brutes' by the turian pilots) were the slower of the two, and their missiles were slower than lasers, but their missiles were numerous, and the elite amongst their numbers seemed to delight in complex maneuvers via transforming their fighters in mid-flight.
Through this method, they were capable of previously impossible maneuvers, such as opening fire on a Besra that was directly on their tail, blasting it with massive force and avoiding counter fire, before re-engaging their engines and zooming off in the complete opposite direction!
The key to taking the lumbering Brutes out, Calixto quickly learned, was with speed and overwhelming force.
The armor on the larger fighters made them capable of withstanding a lone burst from a Besra's cannon, but the massive hail of missiles made sticking around long enough for a second burst dangerous.
Instead, turian pilots would instead blaze past the hulking fighters as full burn, giving them barely enough time to fire their cannon once before they zoomed past.
Afterwards, they would sweep around for a second pass, and pray to the Spirits that the Terrans hadn't filled the air with missiles in the mean time.
The other type, though... they were a challenge.
Unlike the hulking transformers, the nimble fighters seemed to glide through the air effortlessly, slicing through a turian fighter with only a few blasts from their lasers!
But it was worse than that, for the Terran fighters vanished into thin air with their cloaking technology every time a turian fighter got a bead on them! This ability earned them a grudging nickname and identifier of 'Ghosts' from the wary and worn turian pilots.
It was like a child's game of Hunter, but played with fighter craft! If Calixto hadn't been losing pilots so quickly, he might have enjoyed the challenge.
Of course, the skill of the pilot quickly rendered any hasty judgment about the craft void.
Calixto swore under his breath as he flipped his Besra on it's axis, his engines roaring as they sped around the narrow corner, far too close to the ground for any comfort.
Behind him, already far behind, the swarm of simple but numerous missiles exploded on the metal face of the three story building, sending slivers and chunks of neo-steel into the air.
From the sheer number of missiles in that last barrage, the Brute had to be running out of its munitions quickly, a fact that Calixto held close as he juked and jinked across the smoky and chaotic sky, trying desperately to evade attracting another target lock from a free opponent.
A quick glance at his rear cameras showed Calixto the Brute racing behind him, making the hairpin turn despite the inelegance of his fighter's design.
"Watch it, those Brutes can be nimble in the right hands." Calixto warned his squadron, talons shifting across his holographic control display.
"The Ghosts are a bigger problem, Captain," one of his men argued. "The Brutes haven't shown us that they can pull off high-g turns without losing the pilot."
"Well," Calixto snarled as the Brute lobbed two more missiles his way. "Apparently I found their best pilot, then. Keep clear, this guy's throwing enough missiles around to get lucky with a target lock; the airspace is full of 'em."
"Understood, Captain," his second in command answered.
While his left talon swept across the interface, sending his Besra in a wild canopy roll, his right talon clicked off the comm. unit so that he could concentrate.
The canopy roll made his fighter rise out of the trench of the street, into the uncertain airspace where anti-aircraft fire was possible, before flipping his craft over, giving Calixto an upside-down view of a squad of Terran Marines clustered on the roof of a building, pouring fire from their boxy rifles onto the street below.
The Besra rolled smoothly, it's twin stabilization wings (merely ugly stubs, in Calixto's opinion) pointing to the sky while the fringe-tip of the fighter missed the building by a scant half-meter.
For a long second, Calixto's focused senses fixated on one of the Marines near the back, as his rifle rose impossibly slow, organic reflexes following far too slow to follow the Besra-class fighter's superbly executed canopy roll.
Then the moment was gone, and the building flashed by in a blur, leaving the Marine and his squad behind.
Calixto leveled his Besra out, dipping it down under the protective cover of the streets, giving him a moment of freedom to get his bearings and find out where that expertly piloted Brute had gone.
The chime of a tracking-lock made Calixto swear, yanking his fighter around in a twisting shake as at least ten missiles from the Brute shot down from above like bolts of lightning.
How did he get up there? Calixto marveled absently, while his talons flew across his interface, using every single trick and technique he'd learned in his many years to dodge as many missiles as he could.
Five of the missiles lost their lock, smashing their explosive payload into the dusty concrete streets below, one detonated just shy of the Besra and caught another missile in the blast wave, and three missiles crashed directly into the fighter.
Two of the missiles impacted together, overloading the kinetic barriers with sheer explosive force; but although they had more force than the shields could handle, the barriers performed their task perfectly, shunting all kinetic energy away and leaving the fighter (mostly) unscathed.
But the last missile had been slightly behind the others, and caught Calixto's right stabilization pod in its detonation, annihilating it instantly.
Calixto grunted as the explosion jolted him against his restraints, prompting screeching warnings from the computer's VI and sending harsh G-forces against his chest.
Struggling to maintain control with only one stabilization pod, Calixto wrenched his talons upwards, dragging his now-sluggish fighter skyward in a maneuver that was called the 'Retreating Hunter.'
His craft rose straight up and curved back, in the opposite direction of his original heading, leveling out awkwardly and bringing Calixto into sight of his attacker.
The Brute was racing down to the street as fast as its engines could take him, to avoid anti-aircraft fire, and seemed to be completely unaware of Calixto's new location.
Calixto's weary features twitched into a grim smile as he threw his Besra fighter into a dive, following the Brute downwards towards the ground.
Clenching his talons, Calixto opened fire, activating his nose-mounted mass accelerators.
The burst caught the Brute right above the engines, stitching a line of holes across its fuselage. Almost immediately, the Terran pilot punched out, accepting defeat graciously.
As the Brute smashed into the ground with a tearing CRASH, Calixto felt his meager control of the Besra give way. Lacking any way to regain control, he ejected, detonating the canopy charges and launching skyward in his seat.
Alone, descending to the ground in an uncontrolled acceleration, Calixto howled with laughter as the wind swept across his uncovered face-plates. Glancing briefly down, he activated the ejector seats safety features with the poke of a button, bringing the uncontrolled descent into a smooth glide towards the ground.
Then the side of his seat jerked. Another jerk tugged at Calixto's secured form as he bent over, inspecting the seat.
There was a hole in the seat, small but noticeable.
Calixto unbuckled his service-issue pistol, his sharp eyes quickly finding the ejected Terran pilot some forty yards away, taking potshots at him with a pistol.
"Determined little bastard, isn't he?" Calixto murmured to himself as he returned fire, the wind stealing away the sound of his words just as it had stolen away the sound of the Terran's shots.
Two more shots went wide, then a third clipped the edge of his seat, spinning him around. Frantically, Calixto snatched up the controlling yokes of the seat, bringing the spin under control before it dropped him onto the ground below, but he dropped his pistol as he did, sending it plummeting down below.
When the seat had stopped spinning, Calixto realized that the Terran had run out of ammunition, and was now limited to yelling at him, though he could only tell by the movements of the Terran's enraged face.
Unable to help it, Calixto laughed again, while the Terran expressed his extreme frustration in a language that he couldn't even understand.
With a thump, the ejector seat hit the debris-strewn ground, leaving Calixto lying on his back in said seat, still roaring with laughter.
Forty yards away, the Terran pilot also landed.
Without a moment pause, despite his immobility, the Terran immediately started hurling arcane and unintelligible profanity at Calixto, who simply couldn't stop laughing at the absurd event.
We must be the two most incompetent aces in the sky, Calixto chuckled to himself.
And all the while, the Terran pilot, call-sign 'Idra', screamed irritably at the turian in rage and frustration.
Chapter 1 (Snip 4)
"I can't shake him! Spirits, I can't shake him!"
"Cut your core's power and drop altitude!" Calixto snapped, twisting his own fighter through a series of tight maneuvers. "Do it-"
"I can't-" the panicking pilot started to say, before cutting into static.
Damn it, Calixto thought to himself, scowling as the pilot's Besra-class fighter plummeted to the earth, half of it's mass seared off by the laser fire of the lighter craft.
The two types of Terran fighters were a mixed bag of technology, almost as if they came from two different schools of thought.
One fighter was a slim, speedy craft that was outfitted with both laser batteries on it's wingtips and cloaking technology, while the other was a hulking, slower fighter that used much more simplistic gatling cannons and missiles, but possessed the ability to transform into a combat walker.
It was as if these Terrans had copied the design philosophies of both the Salarians and the Elcor! Madness!
Honestly, Calixto had thought to himself when he first viewed one of the latter, who designs a transforming fighter? The lack of efficiency aside, the stress on the pilot must be monumental!
The transforming fighters (nicknamed 'Brutes' by the turian pilots) were the slower of the two, and their missiles were slower than lasers, but their missiles were numerous, and the elite amongst their numbers seemed to delight in complex maneuvers via transforming their fighters in mid-flight.
Through this method, they were capable of previously impossible maneuvers, such as opening fire on a Besra that was directly on their tail, blasting it with massive force and avoiding counter fire, before re-engaging their engines and zooming off in the complete opposite direction!
The key to taking the lumbering Brutes out, Calixto quickly learned, was with speed and overwhelming force.
The armor on the larger fighters made them capable of withstanding a lone burst from a Besra's cannon, but the massive hail of missiles made sticking around long enough for a second burst dangerous.
Instead, turian pilots would instead blaze past the hulking fighters as full burn, giving them barely enough time to fire their cannon once before they zoomed past.
Afterwards, they would sweep around for a second pass, and pray to the Spirits that the Terrans hadn't filled the air with missiles in the mean time.
The other type, though... they were a challenge.
Unlike the hulking transformers, the nimble fighters seemed to glide through the air effortlessly, slicing through a turian fighter with only a few blasts from their lasers!
But it was worse than that, for the Terran fighters vanished into thin air with their cloaking technology every time a turian fighter got a bead on them! This ability earned them a grudging nickname and identifier of 'Ghosts' from the wary and worn turian pilots.
It was like a child's game of Hunter, but played with fighter craft! If Calixto hadn't been losing pilots so quickly, he might have enjoyed the challenge.
Of course, the skill of the pilot quickly rendered any hasty judgment about the craft void.
Calixto swore under his breath as he flipped his Besra on it's axis, his engines roaring as they sped around the narrow corner, far too close to the ground for any comfort.
Behind him, already far behind, the swarm of simple but numerous missiles exploded on the metal face of the three story building, sending slivers and chunks of neo-steel into the air.
From the sheer number of missiles in that last barrage, the Brute had to be running out of its munitions quickly, a fact that Calixto held close as he juked and jinked across the smoky and chaotic sky, trying desperately to evade attracting another target lock from a free opponent.
A quick glance at his rear cameras showed Calixto the Brute racing behind him, making the hairpin turn despite the inelegance of his fighter's design.
"Watch it, those Brutes can be nimble in the right hands." Calixto warned his squadron, talons shifting across his holographic control display.
"The Ghosts are a bigger problem, Captain," one of his men argued. "The Brutes haven't shown us that they can pull off high-g turns without losing the pilot."
"Well," Calixto snarled as the Brute lobbed two more missiles his way. "Apparently I found their best pilot, then. Keep clear, this guy's throwing enough missiles around to get lucky with a target lock; the airspace is full of 'em."
"Understood, Captain," his second in command answered.
While his left talon swept across the interface, sending his Besra in a wild canopy roll, his right talon clicked off the comm. unit so that he could concentrate.
The canopy roll made his fighter rise out of the trench of the street, into the uncertain airspace where anti-aircraft fire was possible, before flipping his craft over, giving Calixto an upside-down view of a squad of Terran Marines clustered on the roof of a building, pouring fire from their boxy rifles onto the street below.
The Besra rolled smoothly, it's twin stabilization wings (merely ugly stubs, in Calixto's opinion) pointing to the sky while the fringe-tip of the fighter missed the building by a scant half-meter.
For a long second, Calixto's focused senses fixated on one of the Marines near the back, as his rifle rose impossibly slow, organic reflexes following far too slow to follow the Besra-class fighter's superbly executed canopy roll.
Then the moment was gone, and the building flashed by in a blur, leaving the Marine and his squad behind.
Calixto leveled his Besra out, dipping it down under the protective cover of the streets, giving him a moment of freedom to get his bearings and find out where that expertly piloted Brute had gone.
The chime of a tracking-lock made Calixto swear, yanking his fighter around in a twisting shake as at least ten missiles from the Brute shot down from above like bolts of lightning.
How did he get up there? Calixto marveled absently, while his talons flew across his interface, using every single trick and technique he'd learned in his many years to dodge as many missiles as he could.
Five of the missiles lost their lock, smashing their explosive payload into the dusty concrete streets below, one detonated just shy of the Besra and caught another missile in the blast wave, and three missiles crashed directly into the fighter.
Two of the missiles impacted together, overloading the kinetic barriers with sheer explosive force; but although they had more force than the shields could handle, the barriers performed their task perfectly, shunting all kinetic energy away and leaving the fighter (mostly) unscathed.
But the last missile had been slightly behind the others, and caught Calixto's right stabilization pod in its detonation, annihilating it instantly.
Calixto grunted as the explosion jolted him against his restraints, prompting screeching warnings from the computer's VI and sending harsh G-forces against his chest.
Struggling to maintain control with only one stabilization pod, Calixto wrenched his talons upwards, dragging his now-sluggish fighter skyward in a maneuver that was called the 'Retreating Hunter.'
His craft rose straight up and curved back, in the opposite direction of his original heading, leveling out awkwardly and bringing Calixto into sight of his attacker.
The Brute was racing down to the street as fast as its engines could take him, to avoid anti-aircraft fire, and seemed to be completely unaware of Calixto's new location.
Calixto's weary features twitched into a grim smile as he threw his Besra fighter into a dive, following the Brute downwards towards the ground.
Clenching his talons, Calixto opened fire, activating his nose-mounted mass accelerators.
The burst caught the Brute right above the engines, stitching a line of holes across its fuselage. Almost immediately, the Terran pilot punched out, accepting defeat graciously.
As the Brute smashed into the ground with a tearing CRASH, Calixto felt his meager control of the Besra give way. Lacking any way to regain control, he ejected, detonating the canopy charges and launching skyward in his seat.
Alone, descending to the ground in an uncontrolled acceleration, Calixto howled with laughter as the wind swept across his uncovered face-plates. Glancing briefly down, he activated the ejector seats safety features with the poke of a button, bringing the uncontrolled descent into a smooth glide towards the ground.
Then the side of his seat jerked. Another jerk tugged at Calixto's secured form as he bent over, inspecting the seat.
There was a hole in the seat, small but noticeable.
Calixto unbuckled his service-issue pistol, his sharp eyes quickly finding the ejected Terran pilot some forty yards away, taking potshots at him with a pistol.
"Determined little bastard, isn't he?" Calixto murmured to himself as he returned fire, the wind stealing away the sound of his words just as it had stolen away the sound of the Terran's shots.
Two more shots went wide, then a third clipped the edge of his seat, spinning him around. Frantically, Calixto snatched up the controlling yokes of the seat, bringing the spin under control before it dropped him onto the ground below, but he dropped his pistol as he did, sending it plummeting down below.
When the seat had stopped spinning, Calixto realized that the Terran had run out of ammunition, and was now limited to yelling at him, though he could only tell by the movements of the Terran's enraged face.
Unable to help it, Calixto laughed again, while the Terran expressed his extreme frustration in a language that he couldn't even understand.
With a thump, the ejector seat hit the debris-strewn ground, leaving Calixto lying on his back in said seat, still roaring with laughter.
Forty yards away, the Terran pilot also landed.
Without a moment pause, despite his immobility, the Terran immediately started hurling arcane and unintelligible profanity at Calixto, who simply couldn't stop laughing at the absurd event.
We must be the two most incompetent aces in the sky, Calixto chuckled to himself.
And all the while, the Terran pilot, call-sign 'Idra', screamed irritably at the turian in rage and frustration.
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
I had Ace Combat Fires of Liberation blasting while I was writing it. Same effect, really.InsaneCat said:
InsaneCat
It ends in Fire?
Oh yeah. That's awesome while reading too.Jomasten said:
Suryn
On the wings of a Dragon
Who? from what series?Raneko said:
- Location
- Oblivion
Seeing as both characters are male in this story and the quality of the majority of slash fics, lets hope it doesn't.Raneko said:
Xeno Major
Sensei Rower
Not necessary, Vaermina. Don't feed the trolls, please; any kind of political statement is just bait for them.Vaermina said:
InsaneCat
It ends in Fire?
Heheh. That would be hilarious.Agayek said: