Planet: Tyrunus Sempicus – UA Date: 07/12/2983
Local Date: 02/04/2983 – Local Time: 2032
Journal Entry NO 003 – I’m Officially Dead
I’m recording this in Polter’s cockpit, my cockpit I suppose now since we’re linked together or something. It’s more comfortable than I honestly expected. The pilot’s chair reclines into a full bed. Couldn’t fit two people, which is a shame, but it’s perfectly comfortable for one.
Yes, Polter, I miss the company of people. You’re fine, but getting to walk among others today was a delight I can’t quite explain.
*silence for a few moments*
No. Your company is appreciated too. Don’t you worry, I like you just fine. Can I get back to recording this?
*silence for a few moments*
Thanks. Yeah, you were recorded as lost in battle too.
Ahem, anyways. Back to recording this report journal thing. We landed a little outside of town, Polter’s suggestion, and disembarked. I connected Polter’s local array to the shuttle so we can call it if needed, and sent it back to The Hanzo. That is, barring some freak interference (the star of this system is stable so I don’t think we need to worry about solar flares knocking something out, but some planetary interference might temporarily prevent us from calling an automated evac). I rode Polter to the edge of town.
That got us a few strange looks from the townsfolk, mostly Varziss here in Waterdown Springs. I don’t think they’re used to seeing a fully kitted out battle mech.
Nah, Polter, I think they’re okay with you. Not scared, just… curious.
*silence for a few moments*
It was your suggestion to camp further outside of town, ‘member?
*silence for a few moments*
Sure. Sure. Okay, back to journaling this. Right. Outside of town I climbed out of Polter and let him sit down to watch the edge of the place. Well, I assumed it was outside of town. Walking in, we passed a few isolated houses. We stayed just off the main road to avoid damaging it. Polter’s heavy enough to leave dents in the roadway and this planet still uses non-mech vehicles. Or maybe they migrated to using non-mech vehicles. I didn’t visit the library to brush up on the local history.
Anyways, I disembarked from Polter and walked into the town proper on my own two feet. It feels good to be dirtside after being in space for so long. Sure, artificial gravity makes ship life relatively similar to being planetside, but there’s really no beating the real thing. And breathing non-recycled air?
*there’s the sound of an air kiss*
Even if the air down here is hot and dry and tastes vaguely of salt. It’s better than the barely above stale and metallic air on the ship.
*silence for a few moments*
I’m getting there. You don’t breathe, remember? Real air is a delight. As is non-rehydrated food from thirty cycle old stores.
*silence for a few moments*
You mean you can sense that through our sync? Huh. Polter, you’re distracting me. Yeah. You’re hard to miss. Sure, you were designed for sneaking and long range engagements, but you’re still a 15 meter tall, walking, green and purple mechanized tank with an equally large railgun magnetically attached to your back and the hilt of a powersword on your hip. That’s not precisely inconspicuous. Gonna let me finish this journal entry?
Yeah, yeah, “log entry.”
Ahem. As I was saying, I walked into the town center. Bigger than I expected. Something like 1,500 citizens harbor here in Waterdown Springs. I think that includes the outer spread of buildings we passed on our way in. It’s not like I took a census on my way in or nothing. But the place is big enough to have a bunch of civil buildings. I know I should’ve gone straight to the settlement hall and talked with the leadership of the place, but I got distracted by a monument on the way in.
I’m sure, if you’re reading or listening to this that you’ve noticed the subtitle.
While this is a backwater planet on the edge of AU space, they had a significant force deployed to fight the Nephilim Colossi. Waterdown Springs suffered particularly bad losses and raised a memorial in their wake. It’s long, at least 50 meters, and two-meter-tall onyx wall laser engraved with the name and face of everyone lost during the conflict. Well, everyone who shipped out from Tyrunus Sempicus at least. The wall would need to be a lot longer and taller to house just the name of every fallen from the war. It did span the entirety of the Union’s space, after all, and called heroes from every planet that call it home.
There was also a smaller sanctum with a holo display. On that display was a constant scroll of everyone lost during the war. I looked up The Hanzo. It, and all souls aboard, were listed as lost. I am a dead woman, but listed on a holo of heroes. Heh. They didn’t get the memo that I was promoted.
((+1 free use of a Heroic Action without the use of a Sync Bond))
*a sighing sound*
It means I have a new lease on life. But that lease means I also need to honor my comrades and help out as I can. I’m still a military servant of the AU and there’s good I can do out here. I can’t just slack off and leave the memory of those who actually died to languish.
So, following that revelation that I’m seen as a hero, I opted to act like a hero and went to introduce myself at the settlement hall. This particular place called it the council chambers. I went in and, while the council wasn’t in session, I was able to talk with a representative.
((Presence Check: 6+1=7, Success))
The rep, councilwoman Zaraithka, listened to me for likely an hour or more as I spilled my whole story. At least it felt like my whole story. And she was very, very patient. I’m sure I talked at million-words a minute and used slang and jargon decades out of date, but the lady patiently waited for me to take a breath before offering me some water and the use of their interstellar comms.
I politely declined and asked how I could serve them locally.
*silence for a few moments*
Because I’m not ready to report in, yet. I will be soon, but… Polter, I just woke up something like two daily cycles ago?
*silence for a few moments*
Yeah, you’re right. I need rest. I’ll wrap this up.
((Story Circuit Selection: 1, The Mech Circus))
Councilwoman Zaraithka told me that there wasn’t anything I could directly do for them in the immediate time, but that they’d expected a traveling carnival or circus to come through the city. It was due to arrive three cycles ago and there’s been no word from it so there might be trouble.
Might also just be late.
She asked that I venture out to the rising sun and see if I could find them and figure out what’s up. So, that’s what I’ll do tomorrow.
Okay, Polter. This entry’s done, go ahead and—
Planet: Tyrunus Sempicus – UA Date: 08/12/2983
Local Date: 03/04/2983 – Local Time: 2157
Journal Entry NO 004 – I’m Also a Ghost Story
((Encounter Check, 3+ Random Encounter: 3))
((Random Encounter: 2, Friendly 1))
It amuses me too, Polter. It amuses me too.
*silence for a few moments*
You’re recording a log? Well then, I guess I should make it official. It’s uh… day three of the fourth month. I haven’t learned the appropriate calendar names yet. It’s on my list of things to do. Anyways, we got up and moving nice and early to cover as much ground as we could to find this missing carnival circus thing.
No dice on that front yet, just so whoever’s reading or listening to these knows. I haven’t given up or nothin’, but we haven’t found ‘em yet either.
Anyways, the sun’s settin’ (a real pretty purple ball right at the horizon thanks to the atmosphere) and ahead of us on the road appears, like a mirage, an old Roamer haulin’ a full-sized shop behind it. This thing is massive, y’know? Big, quadrupedal mech the size of a small apartment building. It was originally designed to haul artillery capable of punching through three different starships at the same time. This one was retrofitted to serve as a mobile mech workshop.
Anyways, trundle up to this massive thing with a house on wheels behind it and shout a hello.
What? I know that.
*silence for a few moments*
It’s a figure of speech, Polter, and I’m the one telling the story. I’ll tell it how I wanna. *a brief pause* Polter wants me to make sure you understand that by “shout hello” you know I mean “opened a communication channel to the mech’s pilot.” Better?
Ahem. As I was saying. I said hello to this massive mech that could likely step on me and Polter and barely notice and the proprietor of Marcy’s Mercantiles and Mech Maintenance answered me. Marcy and I had a nice chat. Since the sun was setting we parked our respective mechs, she asked to see “under Polter’s hood” even though he wasn’t in need of maintenance since she’d never come across an unmodified battle mech.
I politely declined, since Polter was reluctant to let someone not from The Hanzo handle his sensitive bits.
I’ll get him to open up yet. *a soft laugh at something unheard*
Oh yes, I will, Polter. I’m way too much of a people person to let you drag me into your mire of self isolation.
*silence for a few moments*
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, Polter. I know it was just seconds for me, sort of, and years for you. Do you accept my apology?
*silence for a few moments*
Thank you. I really didn’t mean anything offensive by it. Can I get back to my journal?
*silence for a few moments*
Yeah. I’m getting there. You have to set these sorts of things up, build the anticipation. I’ve already got a title for this entry in mind. So, let me spin the yarn. *a moment of silence* Thanks.
So, I get to talking with Marcy, an Appollonian but she’s never been to Earth. She grew up out in the Yarksi Belt before coming here and settling just before the war broke out. Her crew, also Appollonians, hail from Tyrunus Sempicus, but are only barely old enough to remember the end of the war.
As the night wore on I got her talking about local legends after I made up how and why I’m riding an unmodified war-mech.
*silence for a few moments*
Because, and I shouldn’t be admitting this in an official log, I’m not ready to acknowledge what I am. I’m the sole survivor of a warship and you’re a war-mech. Heroes died. I, and you, probably should’ve been among them.
*silence for a few moments*
Apology accepted. Anyways. Marcy’s merchant counterpart, a man called Jack (I gave him s&^! for not matching the naming convention of the shop) jumped in to tell me the story of The Hanzo.
In decades past, The Mighty Hanzo ruled the skies above and kept the entire system safe. Captained by the indomitable Captain Grifford, she’d’ve loved that, The Hanzo defended everyone from pirates and miscreants to bandits and raiders. And when the Nephilim Colossi came to unmake our reality, she flew The Hanzo into the fray with nary a note of concern for her own wellbeing. The Hanzo was outmatched (that’s true. A single Nephilim could tackle multiple cruisers), and outgunned, but Captain Grifford knew that if they let the angry beast through, it’d mean the deaths of millions or billions (also true), so she made a deal with some entity in opposition to the Nephilim (I don’t think this one is true). It was this deal, that let The Hanzo and her crew continue on through one last fight.
And we fought like devils made real. Even I’m still not entirely sure how we pulled off that fight. I know everyone was lost, outside myself, and The Hanzo limped its way from the edge of the system, so the story fading to black with our victory to pick up with ghostly encounters and saving random merchants from privateers is close enough to reality to me.
I mean, I know that we’re not some ghost ship silently patrolling the system and continuing to protect the people, but I don’t think that I need to share that with the locals.
I kinda like being a ghost.
*silence for a two minutes and thirty-four seconds*
Because it allows me a fresh start, Polter. A fresh start and the opportunity to do right by my dead friends. Their memory is a ghostly visage that still protects everyone here and I’m not about to take that from them. People need their folk heroes and I’m not going to take that from them.
*silence for a few moments*
Yeah. Know what? This log’s done.
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