7 Days to Fry (...FLY! I MEAN FLY!!): an Empyrion AAR [COMPLETE]

[JasonPratt]

NIGHT SIX -- PICKING UP STICKS

Sticks, in this case, is a metaphor. A metaphor for my frustration in not being able to accomplish much tonight.

A basic problem is that I have to mine everything manually. Well, not manually -- thank God! -- I would thank the survival kit designer except item number zero should have been a subspace radio. But I can use the drill gun in the survival kit, and pick up the ore. Assuming I don't accidentally destroy the ore with the drill gun!

But I have to be there, at each ore site, doing that rather than setting something to do that and then returning later to collect the ore.

Nor does the suit offer any suggestions for that in the things it will allow me to unlock {gnashing teeth). Unless the so-called "Advanced Constructor" which, by the description will fully do all things, offers new templates for a mining station. But I have to be (what the suit thinks of as) Level 14 in staying-alive-experience or something, and I'm only at Level 10.

Well. For now, it's only an annoyance.

How to convince the suit I'm worthy to make all the things possible to make? Level up. How do I do that? Do things. Including mining and picking up ore. And picking up plants. And shooting things. Like Otyughs. And drones. And by the way, there's a base off to the... east, I think? Also to the west. Maybe if I go fight them, I can convince the suit I'm worthy.

Anyway, I need a better weapon, and more ammo for my cannons (30 mm shells) and for my handgun (.50 cal); also, if possible, close-range base defenses against things coming over the ridgeline under the arc of the autocannons. But first 30mm shells, because I've run dry. And first I need to convert iron ore into iron ingots; thence into metal pieces for the shells.

That's going to take a while, but I'm not going much of anywhere tonight in the dark until I have to. So I check through my suit's "tech tree", and find plans for an upgrade .50 caliber pistol, and for a 5.8mm chaingun mount. Unlock those; unlock some portable lights (so I can make a few more to set out temporarily; the one from my survival kit is back at Baseone.) Unlock the plan for the Small Constructor, which you'd think would have been "unlocked" to begin with, but no; unlock a ton of free block designs, in case I need or want them (but I'm ignoring the mere deco things.) WELL THANK THE KIT DESIGNER AT LAST!! -- not because a radio exists in the plans, but because Armor Plating is a free unlock, so long as the suit thinks I'm experienced enough to deserve it. {gnashing teeth again!}

Note that those free unlocks still have to be unlocked manually, instead of auto-unlocking. sigh.

Unlock a blueprint for making weak fuel cells from hydrogen bottles; so I'll be able to convert those bottles I accidentally made to something useful. Also, should I somehow run out of promethium, I can keep my energy self-sustaining if I have a little left to run my hydr/ox extractor and, of course, the Large Constructor. (I can't check if the Small Constructor will make fuel cells from hydrogen bottles, because I don't want to waste resources building one and my original one is back at Baseone.)

More importantly, I unlock advanced fuel cells, which not only provide longer power from a cell but also use the prom-theum more efficiently. Great! Stupid that I have to be level 10, but great!

By the time I have finished unlocking all the useful things for a Small Vessel -- which I desperately need so I'm not relying on the hoverthingy to get caught in a canyon somewhere -- the LC has finished its current resource-processing queue. 7 hours 37 minutes (suit time) to sunup.

First thing, make a better handgun. I put the old one in the large constructor so I can use its components in a blueprint someday. Oooo, this new pistol has a spotlight!




Sure, it doesn't go very far, but it's brighter than my toolgun lights. I rack in a clip of .50 cal, and then load some 30mm shells into the base's ammo box while the LC makes metal pieces to replace the ones I just used.

Next up, making the components necessary for making a couple of minigun mounts. That takes a bit of a while; and I notice I'm going to need some cobalt soon, as well as some silicon and, well, just about everything BUT magnesium and iron. Once I've built two of those units, I set the LC to build a reasonable amount of 5.8mm ammo and start nano-placing the vulcans. (Called that because a character named Spark from the planet Vulcan used to carry one around on away missions on an old TV show back when TV was invented. They didn't even have color back then! Weirdly, a commedienne's production studio made that show...)

The most logical place to put the mounts (Spark was big on logic, too) is on the back two corners, near the ridgeline and mountains.




Fortunately, a chaingun doesn't take up nearly as much room as an autocannon.

Unfortunately, like autocannons, chainguns don't depress. Which, to be honest, is more than a little depressing... {gnashing teeeeth!}

Fortunately, I am a genius unlike whoever designed this thing.




Unfortunately, I place it facing the wrong way, back toward my basewall.

Fortunately, I can manually turn the turret around so that... it... uh... crap, it can face 'forward' (away from my base), and 'left' (from its perspective), but not 'right' (where the ridgeline happens to be).

Unfortunately, I'm worried I don't have enough spare resources to build another one.

Fortunately, where I placed it, it wouldn't have been able to look around to the east (where I really needed it to) anyway. So this'll work. Anything coming over the ridgeline will be surprised when they round that corner!

By now enough ammo has been made for them, and I plop the set in the ammo box. And using the base's control panel, I set them to the same grouping as the autocannons, and with the same instructions: shoot aliens and predators. Like in that old movie, hah!

(Lord, I hope there aren't any of those aliens and predators around...)

So my base should be safe while I go off to mine some cobalt. As I hover off eastward, autocannons are already shooting something behind me. I make a note that maybe I should turn off their "predator" settings while I'm gone, since the predators never seem to attack machinery really.

As I arrive at the cobalt site, about 300 meters east of the base, I discover no less than three Otyughs wandering the area.

Yeah, screw that. I hover back to base, and do some upkeep -- the autocannons have already shot their wads at other nearby Otyughs, and need more ammo AGAIN! Good thing I anticipated this and set the LC to make more ammo while I was gone. Not a good thing they already used it up so quickly -- I didn't even mine anything, just zipped over and back!

As dawn breaks, the cannons cheerfully drink their precious ammo and belch at I don't know what on the hill line far to my west.




...if I don't get off the ground soon, I'm going to hug an autocannon and let it send me home...

[JasonPratt]

DAY SEVEN -- GATHERING LEAVEN

...okay, you don't actually "gather" leaven. I think. I'll have to ask someone ifWHEN I get back. I don't trust the suit.

What I dang well intend to gather is some cobalt ore. And my previously constructed Small Vehicle parts which I stupidly left back at Baseone (because I wasn't thinking clearly at the time about this being a pretty permanent base. Unlike now. My thinking.)

I waste a little time trying to decide if I should, or even feasibly can, add some weaponry to my hoverthingy.

Then I decide I might as well go back and test my big new multi-barrel hand-cannon before spending more of my few resources on that.

Yep, it has three barrels, and they all shoot slugs at the same time -- yet the gun doesn't use more ammo! I think the concept is that it divides the slug and spreads the resulting shot like a narrow choke small gauge shotgun, blasting the target with fragments at a distance.




It dang well does a number on Otyughs. I didn't even need a full clip! In fact, I shot so quickly (also a faster firing semi-auto firing rate) I didn't realize it was dead soon enough to stop wasting ammo on it! -- and still didn't quite use a full clip!

Nice.

It's a good thing the new pistol is so awesome. I get a bit turned around trying to park my HV near the next Oty. Previously that would have been a suicidal mistake.






But all's well that ends dead, or words to that effect. Two down. And some easily fixable dents.

Soon a third. I love my Tier 2 pistol so much you guys!!

...not that I'm hearing voices. Wasn't there a pistol named Vera in one of those old shows? That seems Vera appropriate. Ha ha ha!

I've actually gathered so much Otyugh "leaven" (meat, and parts, not a euphamism), I have to go back to base to cook it and drop it in the fridge in case it rots while I'm out! Whereupon I take the opportunity to join my autocannons in harvesting another, wow, FOUR of the cruddy things on the west side of my little lake. Which is just as well, since I needed to eat anyway.

After brunch (and making more ammo for the autocannons, which I still forget to turn off the "predator" mode), I head back to the cobalt which I still haven't started mining... and dang if there isn't another freaking Otyugh!

So I hop out onto my cockpit's canopy and blast away in relative safety.




OHCRAPISTHISONETOUGHER?!ITGOTUNDERMYHOVERTHINGYAAAHH!!

This requires some judicious maneuvering. But soon it's dead. I have now literally lost count of how many Otys I've slain since dawn.




And now at long last I can get to mining. If my meat rots, I don't care at this point.

This takes a while. Long enough that I learn how to constantly trigger the suit's nanovacuum while I'm working, so as to reduce the chances of my destroying good ore pieces.

When I'm running low on oxygen, and have picked up 150ish cobalt ore units (however the suit reckons those), I zip back to Basetwo again -- I actually have enough oxy, but I want the Large Constructor to be working on turning the ore into cobalt ingots while I instigate my next plan for this long day: flying back across the whole planet to Baseone, to pick up those flyingcraft pieces so I won't have to make them again!

One part of that plan is to make a point of picking up some Type 6 Plasma from uncommon alien plants (not the ones that look like, uh, ventworms), and plenty of not-aloe (which does usually grow around the dickweed plants which have the other type of plasma that I'd rather not use). I can combine these later with Alien Parts from those slain Otys, and purified water from (duh) the water purifier, to make large med kits.

After doing some preliminary nearby harvesting along this line, and converting meat to salami, and picking up supplies for my run, there's only a suit-hour until sunset. But if I plot a course westward back to Baseone, I can extend that indefinitely!

So goes my journey into the day.










As I arrive in the large valley of the lakes, I remember there's a raider base at the head of those lakes -- because I can see it! But I can swing southeast well away from it, as always when running this route.

Getting through the broken lands southeast of those lakes is a pain, but much easier in bright daylight. I say a prayer (not my first), punch the throttle, and ramp over the narrowest canyon I can find, right between two Otys.




I hum the Dixieland song for some reason. Well, I'm from Tennessee after all.



Not long afterward, I've reached what I call Silicone Lake. Or I would, if the map function allowed me to. Or let me make any marks at all on it. sigh.



Baseone isn't too far away, but I stop here for several hours to get a silicone mine going (and to grab some nearby T6 and aloe).




Not too shabby! Having used up a drilling core, my arbitrary limit, I jumpjet out to my hoverthingy and glide on.

A few more stops to harvest -- T6 stacks easily, but aloe leaves don't stack at all for no good reason, so after a point I can only harvest more T6, which I do -- and then as I top a rise...




Off in the distance. Baseone. Still in one piece.




Even still running! A quick check shows four full energy packs still in the main generator; and three more full in the oxy-generator -- plus over a hundred almost-useless oxygen bottles to convert to something useful, yay!

Almost four suit-hours until sunset catches up with me, which I spend doing some upkeep, turning organic loot into large health packs and restocking the oxygen in my suit's backpack (although of course I have to manually activate those small bottles from my toolbelt.)

As sunset arrives, I decide to grab some promethium from the nearby deposit before I go. Odd. I thought I had already started mining here. Maybe that was in the dream where I got my HV stuck in a watery grave and smothered to death...

Not a good thought. This is why I need to fly. And soon. But not before I get back to Basetwo. And not before I mine plenty of this stuff.

It takes a lot of the drill core just to get to the mineral. But once I do, it doesn't take long to get a decent load -- this stuff mines easy, and turns into a lot of crystals when refined, which turn into a lot of energy cells. I won't have to do more of this mining for a long time.

Which is a good thing, because that's my final drill core. Mental note to hurt whoever designed the cores so that one core doesn't fit all toolguns...

Night has long since fallen by the time I'm done.



I rather foolishly decide to go jacklighting an Oty I hear nearby, for some ham to make back at base before I go.


That was very nearly a mistake.




But Vera comes through in the clutch when the Oty bursts from the ground as if the wretched thing had simply popped into existence nearby!

Whew.

And Night 7 hasn't even really begun. Because after some final stationkeeping at Baseone...




...it's time to hover my way back to Basetwo.

As I pass the nearby Raider Base again, a missile drone comes out to say hi.

Since I don't notice at first it's a missile drone, and since I've got a bunch of large med kits now, I decide to hop out and say hi back with Vera.

I notice this is a "missile" drone at about the same time an Otyugh I didn't notice swings round the front of my HV in an ambush charrrrrRRRRRRRAAAAAH AAAAAHHHHH!!!








The Oty might actually have saved me from my own stupidity -- the drone shoots, but seems unable to properly aim with both of us in its sights.




The Oty's body makes a handy shelter, too.

But at the end of the day, it comes down to my aim against its aim, and, well...




...its aim isn't good enough. Apparently its designers thought, hey, high explosives, no need for the good targeting package, those things cost money!

I have to admit I'm feeling confident enough from that win to go scout the enemy base more closely. No guns shoot at me, and it seems to only have two remaining drones.




It sends out a rocket drone, which against my better judgment I decide to troll away from the base to see if I can shoot it down near cover. Perhaps fortunately for me, the thing turns around and returns before going too far from home. When I realize I nearly goaded something into easily murdering me, I decide it's time to head home for the evening, too.




...well, not really home.

Good Lord, I'm thinking of that base as my home now...

A good four hours of housekeeping once I reach hhhhOVERBASE TWO! -- not home -- and that's the end of a very, very long Seventh Day.

Aren't Sabbath days supposed to be for rest?

Not here on Omicron they aren't.

A lot of unpacking and processing as the clouds flow across the sky and the shadows creep on the ground.




I can't take it anymore.

Seeing not-Earth rising over the mist. Reminding me of a home I can't reach.

...if I can't find some hope tonight, after all I've done this long, long day...




...one way or another...

...to heaven at dawn...!

[JasonPratt]

NIGHT SEVEN -- THE DAWN OF HEAVEN

I shall make my hope... there. A little west of Basetwo.




Crud, I forgot to load the cannons with ammo now that I'm back. And my minigun, for no good reason, has terrible aim at that distance. So before I start, I go secure the area my own dang self.



...and go cook some more meat and make a few more large med packs while I'm at it. Vera has kept me from being hurt in a long time, but I might as well stay safe until the morning, right?

sigh.

...where was I at before I was rudely interrupted by death?

Right. Hope. I lay it in the dim crosslight.




It doesn't look like much.

I fight a wave of depression and keep on. This is only the start. DIE, SUGARCANE!... I uh, mean, let's see, what's next? Not enough room to put my new cockpit yet, but I've got some basic building blocks cooking.

I reposition one of the portable lights while I'm waiting. It was set too high on a small sandridge, and was leaving the SV block in shadow.




...I guess that isn't technically worse. I can see more. Achieved.

Soon, I add six more blocks.

Doesn't look like much, but I have to be careful. Design efficiency. I don't dare use too much.

My life depends on it.




Good, the cockpit fits nice, with a little room on the back to add...




...an RCS unit.

The first of three, actually. (Careful not to make the wrong one!) I have discovered this thing is how pilots can rotate a craft, but naturally a craft has mass -- the more dense things, the massier -- so the more RCS units, the better the craft will rotate.

My hoverthingy doesn't rotate so well. This is gonna be better.

Add six more blocks behind the RCS triad... and move the portable light around, dang can't see good... oh for the love of... {back to constructor to make a portable omnilight} ...there.

Now, add the fuel tank (and those weak hydrogen fuel cells, might as well), and the generator.




And we have power.

No flight yet. But power. Power is good.

I waste some minutes trying to figure out where I want to place a fridge I built for it, before the suit adjusts my air mixture and I come to my senses. Huff some oxygen; eat some meat. Back to the constructor; need to build thrusters now. Making components making components.

One for the back, slanted a little for no really good reason -- I want to see what the differences are besides slightly lesser performance compared to normal thrusters.




Now... I need one pointing down, right? Hm. I guess I'll have to hang it on the side... okay, that works.

Hop in the cockpit, turn on the power, only a suit-hour till dawn glowing in the east I HAVE TO KNOW I HAVE TO KNOW NO NO NOOOOOO --




-- nooooote to self. One downthruster on the side, needs another on the other side to balance it.

Nothing really damaged though.

Make make make make... place it... carefully, make sure it's even with everything...




...yes, good good. I uh...

...i think that's it?

...that should do it? basically?

four minutes to dawn




leveling out

a little wobbly, but not unstable just my handling, need to learn controls

going up



oh God oh God I'm doing it I'm finalllllyyy FLLLYYYYINNNGGGG!



i cry for a little while

seven days to fly


...uh.

I can't go down.

what the hell. The hoverthingy goes down (slow) when I do that.

holy bleep it can't go down I CAN'T GO DOWN I'M GOING TO CRASH AND DIE UP HERE!!

deep breaths deep breaths

I can go forward, already did that

I can... checking... tip forward... yay, the RCS thingies must rotate me that way, too... very smooth... doesn't cause me to fall, the thrusters must be rotating opposite to match and keep me level.

Now, if I go forward while pointing down...

...perfectly smooth

rotate around, back to base, yep rotating up and forward also takes me up, but the pedal will make me go up, too. But need to go forward to go down. Note to self, small thruster pointing up somewhere, so I can settle from a hover.




Annnnd... tump.


Couldn't be easier.




Well, okay, it could be slightly easier. I'll build a small thruster for the top.

And a God-awful bunch of artillery for the front.

And the sides.

Okay you terrorist raiders.

I can't get off the planet yet.

But I can make you fry

[JasonPratt]

Phew! Let me take a break after that major accomplishment to talk out-of-narrative about alternate strategy.

Admittedly, my reckoning of "seven days" is pretty loose, considering that I quickly lost track of solar time on the planet once I started HVing around. Still, I felt pretty good about somewhat-plausible achieving my initial goal ("seven days to fly", i.e. to getting a Small Vessel that, unlike the Hover Vessel, can truly fly.)

Then I went to the Steam forums to look around about how I could have done better.

...annnnd I still feel kind of good. It's possible to get to an SV in Survival mode quicker, but you either need to effectively cheat, or else have amazing luck and a much better idea of what's minimally necessary to proceed.

For example, I had to spend the better part of a day or two (even in the loose notion of "Day" I was using) simply trying to find an iron deposit reasonably near my base; and then trying to find any iron deposits at all! I'm not entirely sure I've still found all five (I'm not where I can check); I can only recall three offhand, and they're half a planet away from my crash site, although two near each other were a little closer.

But that was ridiculously too far away to be practical, especially with broken land my HV could easily be trapped in, between me and the iron in any direction. So I had to make a new base of operations within reasonable mining distance. And secure a place to put it. And fill/flat a significantly large area to place it. And add a few support things nearby, like another oxygen extractor. Which I accidentally made the wrong kind of. TWICE!

That would have taken even longer than it did, except for a new game tool introduced during the past real-life month: the ability to create and use blueprints in Survival mode, not merely in Creative mode.

Now, I could have just looked around for a resource-minimal SV and saved that to my blueprint list and made that. In fact, the new Survival-blueprint mode came with four nice blueprints already installed, one for a base, a hoverthingy, a scout vessel, and a capital vessel. But using the scout blueprint would have felt cheap to me.

Even snapshotting a blueprint for a copy of my original base, almost felt cheap to me; but I still needed to put in a lot of work to get it up and going. And with my bad luck in crashing far from any iron, I was willing to make this concession to recover some time and still have a chance at flying in seven days. But of course had I tried to build a new base from scrap and from scratch, that would have taken a lot longer to process the components at best; plus mining the nearby iron to make enough components; plus securing the areas of the base and the mining. And occasionally re-securing it.

I did discover, on researching, that it's possible to get a scout vehicle built in under a real hour from a cold start in Survival mode; without using blueprints (or not imported blueprints anyway -- the blueprint tool is still highly useful for needing to remake parts, which is something I'll be considering later); and without using a multiplayer team.

But it still requires some luck, and it still requires a bit of pre-knowledge cheating beyond already having a good idea of how to proceed with the most parsimonious construction (something I chose to work out on my own through some trial and error, which naturally took more gametime).

Basically it requires finding a crashed captial ship as soon as possible, and looting it (and its guardian drones) for parts and ores and ingots rather than finding and digging them out on the map.

And for time efficiency that means (a) starting on Omicron, because that's where the crashed ship is;

and

(b) starting on Omicron, because the game automatically gives you two experience levels to help you survive there, and you need a minimum level to unlock the basic SV parts;

(not level 10 or 11 or 12 or wherever I'm currently at, much less than that -- but not level 0!)

and

(c) starting on either the game's original Omicron where the ship's location has been already plotted by players, or else starting Omicron on a game seed where the ship has been found to be closer in navigable terrain than in vanilla Omicron.

Note that I haven't found the Titan at all, after scanning most of the planet -- I don't even know if it exists on the game seed I'm using.

Then it's a matter of rushing up a minimum survivable base, also a minimum useful Hovercraft with maybe two cargo boxes, then zipping over to the crashed ship, securing the area, and looting the place -- but not all of it, only enough to get the minimum materials needed to fabricate the things to build a scoutship. This is where luck also factors back in, because even on vanilla Omicron the loot containers are somewhat randomized (and also the drones for scrap).


Anyway, I could have done it faster had my luck been a lot better, and had my skill been a little better. But under the circumstances, 7ish days is still respectable.  8)

Now to figure out how fast I can get a warp-capable engine... which is probably stage 3. I'm only at stage 1. Stage 2 will be getting off Omicron to whatever planet(s) has the exotic mineral(s) I need to make a warp engine. Presumably the game makes sure I have enough of the right minerals to get off Omicron or no one would be able to 'win' the game from an Omicron start; but I suspect I'll need all the special minerals of the game to make a warp engine.


...well, okay. Stage 1 would be building a minimum survivable base. Stage 2 would be building a hovercraft, assuming it's impossible to get to a small vehicle without scouting for more resources. I'm at Stage 3 then. Stage 4 would be cap ship. Stage 5 would be warp drive. Strictly speaking there isn't a "warp home" option, only the option to warp around the local solar system; but for my purposes a functional warp ship will win the game.

[JasonPratt]

DAY EIGHT -- PREPARING HATE
DAY NINE -- COPPER MINE

To be honest, the next day and a half has been dangerously blurry.

With magnesium running low, I flew across the lake to mine at the nearest deposit for a whole drill-charge; then flew over to the iron mine I had already started and mined a whole drill core there; then flew back, to refine it and make some ammo, and then remembered I didn't really need to make ammo yet because I had saved a bunch for my autocannons so they wouldn't be wasting ammo while I was gone when in fact what I needed to do was to turn off their targeting of predators leaving only their targeting of "aliens" (as in raider drones) -- and then remembered I had actually done that already. But hadn't reloaded them with ammo.

Then I realized I was about to pass out. So I fed the autocannons and told them to only shoot drones, and crawled into my HeavenDawn cockpit before I lost consciousness.






When I awoke -- strictly speaking when the suit awoke me -- it was night and I was smothering and starving to death.

Rectifying that, I spent the night using the last of my copper to upgrade my scout with two more thrusters, four more gyroscopes (I could probably use a fifth for a total of six), another cargo box (that I doubt I'll ever need, so that was a waste), an ammo box, and a Vulcan cannon strapped to the top for my ammo box! And ammo for the Vulcan. Lots and lots of ammo. Of a different caliber, unfortunately, than the chainguns helping guard my base.



Oh, and I added a small down thruster so I could land properly from a hover.

Hunting at dawn, I learned that its aim was quite precise -- I was afraid it would be permanently shooting above my targeting recticle, which I could adjust for through experience, but maybe the onboard computers adjusted that for me. However, it took many more shots to bring down two bloodyworms than my upgraded pistol would have needed. So at the moment, if I'm going to do much fighting, shooting while on foot will take less time. This makes the prospect of going after the nearby base a bit more daunting -- but on consideration, I needed to mine more copper anyway.

That took all of Day Nine (in effect, plus housekeeping), because the only two of the three copper mines on Omicron I've found so far, are both ridiculously far away from either of my bases (although they're both a little closer to Baseone). Even with three thrusters, my scout only flies a little faster than 8 meters/second. That's less than 30km an hour!

But I got there, secured the area (not hard, no monsters nearby), and spent two and a half drill cores excavating copper, before flying back home, arriving just after nightfall.

So now I'm doing housekeeping, ready to try an assault on the raider base at dawn -- not that it makes any difference to those drones, just to me.

I see that the suit thinks I'm experienced enough now to make an Advanced Constructor -- woo! -- but then I learn that the main difference will be two Power Coils. Which are made entirely out of two exotic metals. Not found on Omicron.

sigh.

Okay then, straight to the capital ship making. But that's going to take a while, and would be sped up by me having a small constructor to do some of the minor things.

Whereupon the survival kit's designer laughed at me, using his infernal prevenience, and declared that the only small constructor I will be able to build with an LC can only be mounted to a hovercraft or scout. Okay, fine... oh, and it'll need power to run, unlike the small constructor that can be placed anywhere but which can't be built by the thing that can be built by the first small constructor.

Sending my hatred by non-radio to the kit's designer (again), I gnash my teeth and build a second Large Constructor instead. (And a few extra hull blocks to mount it on.) While I'm at it, I build a healing bay, which should automagically heal me by nano-suit interface so long as I'm standing on a base block or equipment; and an oxygen dispenser (plus an oxygen bottle holder, naturally, because GOD HAS FORBIDDEN THE DISPENSER SHOULD HOLD ITS OWN BOTTLES) which... I thought was supposed to automatically fill my suit while I'm at the base, but which seems to need a manual prod. Ugh.

But that passes the time until dawn.

And leaves me feeling like I want to shoot something.

How convenient.

[JasonPratt]

DAY 10: VOLMAN, BEGIN!

In hindsight, this wasn't one of my saner plans.

The basic concept made sense: stop the raider incursions on Omicron and maybe loot some resources and machine parts while I'm at it, in order to speed up my capital ship construction so I can get off this rock and find the exotic minerals I need to make a warp drive.

Bonus points if raiding the enemy netted me some of those exotic minerals.

Get some revenge for marooning me here, too.

That sounds fine, until I remembered I'm one man in an orange and white(ish) space suit with a small cobbled scout craft, a hand cannon, an assault rifle that doesn't do as much damage as the hand cannon, and a vulcan gun on the scout craft that doesn't do as much damage as the hand cannon. (I made the assault rifle before leaving on my anti-raider raid. It uses the same ammo as my base chainguns, but with my autocannons on line I wasn't worried about fending off a wandering drone.)

I didn't remember this until, looking at the raider base, I realized no less than four plasma cannons or something like that were tracking me and my little scoutship.




Also, as soon as I started giving the drones a Vulcan pinch (named after that Spark guy), my suit klaxxon'd a warning: enemy troop transport approaching.

...what?

Fortunately, one part of my mind promptly forgot about the troop transport from panicking at the giant PLASMA CANNONS aimed my way.

And one part of my mind promptly forgot about the plasma cannons while shooting the drones.

And while I remembered the oncoming transport while jumping out to loot the drones asap and run away, I forgot about the plasma cannons in my eagerness to loot the drones and run away.

Then this happened.




Did I mention that my brain just decided to filter out the Otyugh meandering around the base? Because my brain just decided to filter that out until it started charging me.

On the other hand, I did need to hunt, so in my hunger for meat and machinery loot I promptly forgot about the plasma cannon regiment again.

Running back to the Oty after looting the wrecked drone behind me, though...




...I continued forgetting about the 6 or however many plasma cannons aimed at me.

Because the troop transport was coming.

And it looked adorable! Like a model from an old Flesh Godhorn serial!

(Why people back in the dawn of film would name a story like a porno, I have no idea. I'm told the 1920s were roaring, though, which I suspect is a euphamism.)




It completely bounced in for a landing, distracting me from hopping into my scout and zooming away like mad. And then -- !




-- it, uh... it wobbled off and flew away.

Waaat?

...for a moment I was seized with fear that the enemy had invisibility powers!

Then I realized no one was shooting at me, and neither could I hear anything new moving around. Why bother sneaking up on me, if I'm standing out in the open like a giant orange and white sign volunteering to be shot?!

Then I decided the troops had all been injured or killed by that terrible landing.

Good. Just enough time to run up and loot that other dead drone!

For less than fifty .50 bullets? Weak. But I'll take them. Huh, what's that weird buzzing? Like the sound my autocannons make when --

GAAAH OH CRAP HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN THE SIX OR SEVEN PLASMA CANNONS AAAAH AAAAAAAAHHH!

...oh. Because they weren't shooting at me, I guess.

And still aren't.

That was a thousand percent weird. But still not the weirdest things I would see today.

After walking around the ground floor a bit, and finding to my not-surprise there were no open doors, I climbed some imposing looking stairs, where at least three plasma cannons (one standing right next to the stairs) should have atomized me instantly.






And there, to my amazement, across a bridge, a door was standing completely open! With another one beyond it to the opposite bridge!

Figuring this had to be a trap, I rushed across the bridge hoping to take my trappers by surprise.

My only surprise was that, as far as I could tell, there wasn't a door at all! The base was completely open from at least three directions, although not to the south.

By now, though, my suit's acoustic sensors were picking up horrible gutter grunts.

I whipped myself and my hand cannon around in several directions, but saw nothing, and couldn't get a bead on where the noise was coming from.

In the middle of this... foyer, for want of a better word, stood a standard zerogravivator.

[Gamenote: elevators in this game, in the pre-alpha so far anyway, are... hard to describe. They're cubic frames where gravity doesn't work but friction does, so you can walk in and out of them as on any other surface, but using the up or down keys -- the former of which also doubles as the jump key -- you can float safely up or down. Swimming mechanics work exactly the same, by the way. I'm presuming my character would be familiar about these; I can buy the specs and build them with my large constructor, but haven't needed to yet.]

Going down one floor (through a nice white paisley wallpaper pattern on blue silk), to the ground level, brought me to a generator room, with two large generators, two large empty fuel tanks, and a medical bay. But the generators were still running!

To be honest, I only checked one fuel tank, because the horrible grunting had gotten louder.

I promptly hopped into the vator, and soared upward away from the grunts. From what I could tell, matching the outer structure now that I thought of it, the shaft went up without intervening floors to a top level.

Where, as I approached, I heard gargling worse than the grunting.

Slowing my silent ascent, I peeked over the edge and saw --




-- two soldiers! And not robot drones either!

My shortness of temper at being stuck on this planet for ten days, plus my suit's alert at another incoming troop ship (presumably carrying a load of these things again, which it might not cripple while landing), translated into me shooting one of them by surprise with my hand cannon.




This didn't kill it, unfortunately, but its return fire, while causing bloody splots in my vision, was mitigated by my emergency suit. I presume they had something similar. And I scared the other enough for it to run away!

Also, neither one felt like peering over the edge into my sights as I sunk down the shaft to reload, and to bring up my new assault rifle.

It didn't seem to do any better, and I took more damage in reply -- but in my haste to reload it after a volley, I fumbled and dropped the thing down the shaft! But I recovered it, and endeavored to persevere.

By which I mean I used two small healing kits on myself, and then went back up to kick some ass.




Suicidal, I know. Also, shooting a large fuel tank to take out the second troop hiding behind it. I think my Tennessean ancestors would have been proud of me, though!

I had trouble getting out of the vator, possibly because I had destroyed some important structural supports; and then once out, I couldn't really jump across the huge gap in the floor and out of the room, so I went north out a door onto the landing -- face first into more of the guards. Was the troop ship landing them on the upper platform?? I hadn't seen them while approaching in my scout.




They didn't get along well with Vera. I decided my hand cannon, by experimentation, worked better than the assault rifle.

Having blown down another three pirate things, I felt like this level had been secured, even though I still hadn't found the grating grunting things my suit's "ears" insisted were still nearby. I had been walking by some large glowing pods for a while, mostly up on this level, so I tried accessing one while things had calmed down (grunts notwithstanding).




...oooooooooooooo!

I am not too ashamed to admit I peed my suit a little at seeing this. And several other caches of the same sort standing around!

But first, I needed to find out what off of God's green earth was making that unholy sound!

Not on the top floor.

What I did find, also not on the top floor exactly, was a large minigun drone that had flown in from somewhere, and which was shooting at (and blowing up) something not myself!

From the angle, I desperately hoped it wasn't blowing up my scout -- it didn't seem to be aiming correctly or at a proper distance. I still don't know what it thought it was doing, or what exploded below me, but I do know what exploded below me after I unloaded a clip and a half of Vera into it.




The troop ship was still flying in and out, but evidently not on this top level, and nothing had been coming up the shaft (the only route I could ever find to the top). I had filled out my backpack and toolbelt from one cache already, and while I fully (and correctly) expected the suit could stack more of most things, I figured it might be time to offload at the scout and see how it was doing. Also to get around any troops the transport would have been offloading who could be gathering for an assault up the shaft.

So I jumped down the hole outside the shaft!




This brilliant plan was predicated on my being able to use my jumpjet at the last moment to cushion my fall, which would have worked except for bad timing.

But the suit protected me despite the crunching landing (and blood shooting out of my eyes), so with that animalistic grunting now echoing in my ears -- meaning I had to be closer than ever, meaning the source must be on the main floor in a sealed room below me I hadn't entered yet -- I ran away from that sound and toward the flaming wreckage of the larger drone, daring another jump onto the walkway, meaning to turn and fire at anything waiting inside theAAAH, NO I OVERJUMPED --!




-- OVVVERRR the walkway, with no jumpjets to cushion my fall! Splorch.

Still alive but in much worse shape, I hobbled to the wreckage, grabbed its loot (all things that could stack, yay), then ran back to my scout while eating small health kits like candy.

Scout? -- okay, no damage. I never did find out what the large minigrun drone had been shooting at.

Troops from the transport? -- none apparently outside. And none chased me anywhere. Had they not noticed my goofy departure? Had they reasonably inferred I killed myself by hilariously overjumping the gangway?

I dropped my loot so far into a cargo bin, and with plenty of time left in the day (although this based stood in permanent mountain shadow), plenty of ammo remaining, and health'd back up (and not even one large kit used yet), I carefully made my way back to the foyer.

No troops. At all.

I can say now, from hindsight, that to the best of my knowledge the troop transport never offloaded a single troop!

Maybe the commander was trying to bluff attackers into running away in fear of invisible troops...?

The gutteral grunting got on my nerves at last. Steeling myself I opened the only door on the foyer level, where I had deduced the sound was coming from and found --

-- the weirdest thing I saw all day.




-- what

-- what is it

-- what is it doing

-- why does it have two backs

-- IT KNOWS I LIVE




Inferring that anything looking and sounding this nasty in such a place would be more likely hostile than not, I didn't take a chance, and shot it several times with Vera.




Whereupon I discovered that the thing with two backs had four backs. And why.

But of this I shall not speak.

They / it mooed and died in lumps.

Were this/these batlike creature(s) supposed to be guarding the base at night?

Whatever. Aside from the usual bloodpillars crawling harmlessly outside, my suit acoustics suggested, rightly, the base was clear.

And mine.

Or not exactly mine. I couldn't find its control cube, to destroy it and replace with one of my own, which I had seen long ago, in that item's description, would allow me to take over a base. Doubtless the raiders had done as I had done, and covered the precious controller with other things.

No matter. Still mine, and I mined it of all its resource caches.

With sunset approaching and my bioenergy running low (since I had eaten the last of my salami while on the raid), I flew back hhhhAPPILY TO MY SECOND BASE, not to my home.




Everything fine here.

A fine day.

A day I survived, only because the raiders had left their base with no ammunition, and didn't send troops to reinforce it -- only an empty troop ship. Numerous times.

I want to go home now...

...but I can't. Yet.

What I can do, now --




-- is go jacklighting Otyughs in the dark before I starve.

Which I do.




One tries to hunt me back, almost successfully.

My fear tastes like Otyugh salami now.

what else can i do...

...

........

...well.

I can do this.




I can begin my capital ship.




I'm gonna need a spreadsheet.

[JasonPratt]

DAY ELEVEN -- DIVE INTO HEAVEN

After breakfast, I make the suit temporarily drop me out of whatever nanotemporal state it keeps me in, so I can design a spreadsheet for working out mass/thrust relations without starving to death or smothering or, for that matter, taking all day and night.

[Gamenote: in other words I played from an occasionally reloaded backup save while I alt-tabbed out to an Excel sheet and back again to check in-game stats.]

I spend the morning cheerfully ciphering this way, until I decide on a minimum build plan.

Then as I gear the suit back into nanotemporal mode, and access the Large Constructor to begin --

-- I discover that practically all the equipment classified for capital ships, requires flux coils.

Which require exotic minerals not found on Omicron.

Building that CV foundation last night had been a total waste.

Screaming curses against the fiends who designed this ostensible "survival" kit, I barely restrain myself from the madness of flying off to raid all the raider bases on Omicron by myself.

I could not, however, restrain myself from pointing the nose of my HeavenDawn scout perpendicular to this miserable rock and blasting into the sky.




I claw slowly upward at a rate slightly slower than my suit could make me run. Despite my rage, a corner of my mind notes the distance to orbit is less than a whole kilometer. My mind slots this detail into my theory that this "planet" can only be an asteroid less than half the size of my home county in Tennessee, with a core that must be comprised of microscopic white star fragments or something like that in order to accrete and form not only a spherical outer shell with Earth-approximate gravity, but also a viable atmosphere (although poisonous to Terran life).

What I am checking, somewhat suicidally, iss whether a cobbled scoutship like this can even safely leave the planet and return, much moreso travel to the moon and back in a reasonable time -- to be defined as a time where I could bring enough food and air along to survive.

At the edge of space, as cosmic energy starts washing over my cockpit, I pause to look around...




...and then I stretch the final few meters.




As a pilot I wobble just outside the atmosphere, but my ship itself does fine.




The vacuum of space improves my power usage efficiency -- my hover thrusters don't need to continue burning I guess -- but not my speed even slightly. I creep at 8.4 meters per second across the sky; but this little astroidette is so small, I'm making substantial progress anyway.

Over the horizon curve, I see an indistinct shape rising, but I'm still too close to Omicron to safely fly parallel to the 'ground'. By the time I've attained enough height, I've curved around the planet enough to understand what I'm seeing in front of me.




An asteroid belt.

And possibly Omicron's moon. It's hard to tell with other planets in the area, and the map isn't much help.

Also: a plasma-armed space drone, at 3 kilometers, no doubt meant to be an early warning system against approach to the planet by pirate hunters. To be safe I angle around it.

I clear the path to the asteroid field over the edge of Omicron.




I could creep out toward the belt, I guess, but what would be the point at this slow rate?

Besides, my experiment has confirmed that in theory I don't need a capital ship to hunt for exotic minerals off planet.

I just need to build a scout ship fast enough to put that theory into practice.

Pointing my nose back to Omicron, I ascertain that I need to be about 350 meters above the atmosphere to be free of its gravitational pull (and atmosphere remnants).




It's easy not to be too disappointed about such a spectacular accomplishment.

It's also easy to resent the survival kit designer for not including enough, or any, micro-sized ingots in the kit to build a warp drive. But then, he didn't even include a rescue radio, so...




I happen to drop into orbit in sight of my Basetwo lake, and indeed in sight of my base! -- I can even just barely make out the little block of useless capital ship foundation nearby!

At a slightly less ludicrously slow running speed, I return to Basetwo a few minutes later, and celebrate with two salamis and a batch of oxygen. And a quick check for damage repair.

About 4 suit-hours until dawn. I'm pretty sure I can make a new SV by then, and I decide I'm better off doing that than modifying the HeavenDawn (or whatever I'm calling it): I'll have to destroy and remake or replace so many things I might as well start over, and besides if something bad should happen to a new astroscout then (assuming I survive) I'll still have the Dawn to ferry me around to gather more minerals to try again.

My calcs, however, indicate that something is screwy about the thruster specs, or possibly the mass specs somewhere. Granted, I dropped out of engineering in college because I wasn't good enough at the math, but still: either the thrusters aren't generating anywhere near enough force to push themselves along (much moreso the mass of a whole ship), or else they're generating waaaaay too much power to move a ship of this mass less than 9 meters a second.

Assuming for convenience that the mass readings are correct (since that simplifies testing for 'actual' thruster behavior), and carefully accounting for all the mass in the Dawn (plus myself at a guesstimated suit weight of 200 kg), I reckon the normal thrusters are generating 735.9191 kg/m/s.

[Gamenote: I do remove the slanted thruster in the middle and replace it with a normal thruster to equalize the division of result per thruster. This takes some time to build and test, after which I reload the game. I'm pretending at this point I used three normal thrusters from the beginning.]

Ideally I'd calculate which kind(s) of thrusters have the best mass/velocity and mass/ergspent ratios, but without more experiments I can't do that; and if the listed figures are close to right, the "normal" thrusters for an SV were the most mass efficient anyway.

Since my current SV rotates nicely, I set up a calculation to match the number of gyros to force/mass ratios on the new ship as a target. If that works, I can always use my remove tool to take one or two back off and recover both their mass (they're quite heavy for their size) and most of their material (the tool can take back motors and other complex things), until I get an unacceptable result -- and then add one back on.

That scarred rock I saw beyond the asteroid belt, I infer to be Omicron's moon, as its appearance of size changed substantially during my orbit. The belt must functionally be at the LaGrange point of gravity between them, and I could tell I was slowly approaching the belt -- moreover the edge of it didn't seem a whole Omicron-diameter away from the atmosphere. This gives me a reasonable guess at distances, and so also at a practical maximum speed I should be aiming for in the design calcs.

Consequently, I decide to shoot, somewhat arbitrarily, at a 700 km/hour maximum velocity, or rounding up to 195 m/s.

This speed would vastly outclass the drone speeds I've seen so far; which admittedly could be a false inductive inference from past experience, but since I have no other data to go on yet I might as well make a safe bad guess. Consequently, I don't plan to include a gun yet; thus also not an ammo box.

I haven't tried an Extra-Vehicular Operation (...that's the right term, right...?), but I'm sure I'm doomed if I can't and there seems to be no tech for it; so for now I'm going to plan as though it's possible and feasible with built-in suit equipment. At the least my jumpjets ought to work. Consequently, I'm not going to build an area to walk around in, inside my astroscout, in order to reach supplies of food and oxygen: I'll evo for those.

This means I'll keep 2 cargo boxes in the design -- one for my supplies -- but I won't bother with an oxygen dispenser and tank. Nor with a fridge, yet, but I can see that might make sense, since my salami will still rot in a cargo box (even in space, or so I had better conservatively guess).

The result is, well...




...wobbly. Compact, but wobbly.

Also nowhere near as fast as it should be. But still a lot faster, more than 40 m/s now.

I notice that the power output under full thrust is over 100% and listed red, which surprises me, too: according to my calcs, the scout shouldn't be using that much power.

I also notice I'm running a bit thin on my ingots now, so I decide to spend the new day (what remains of it) mining ore for everything but copper (since I'm not short on that.)

And by mining, I mean wrecking my enemy's base.

[JasonPratt]

DAY TWELVE -- OFF TO DELVE

My theory runs like this: when I use the "remove" function of my R&R tool, I tend to pick back up most of the component pieces. (Or all, but I haven't rigorously checked that.)

Several of the items back at that nearby base I ruined, look like things that would need Flux Coils to build.

Therefore, before I knock myself out picking up a bunch of ore and the refining those ores into ingots (and a few powders) and then fabricating components... why not just go loot the base further? At worst I'll lose a few minutes and a few Removal charges making the test. And even if I don't get any advanced components, if it works I'll still get a lot of simple and complex components.

What reminds me of this function of the removal tool, is that I really need to redesign the weight distribution on the astroscout.




See what I mean?

So for most of the day I'm working on removing, rebuilding, and replacing a lot of that.






Which I think works reasonably well. I also add another generator while I'm at it, so I won't be dangerously overstraining the first gen.

Then I go try "removing" a plasma cannon or whatever this is supposed to be at the ruined nearby Xenu base.




Does it work?

ABSOLUTELY!

Did it net me some Flux Coils or Advanced CPUs?

No, but it did net me a bunch of other useful things that I won't have to spend time making.

So I go through the base "removing" any high technology I can find (except the elevator because I need that to move around), and at the end of the day what's my catch?




No less than 8 AdvCPUS, and ten Flux Coils, baby!! WOOOOO!!

Of course, I could already make CPUs -- but I have limited neodymium (harvested from the caches in this base earlier) to do it.

I'm kind of doubtful that's enough flux coils to get me out of the system. But it's a great start.

And when I ask the suit's computer if sathium (for the fluxors) has been previously detected in the system, she says, "Yes, in the asteroid belts."




I know you aren't Earth, Akua. But you'll do for a prayer. I'm not far from going home now!

As I suspected, I'm going to need more than just those 10 fluxors. But I can feasibly go get the raw material for them now.

Into my astroscout I hop, and in no time at all I'm shooting through the final layers of atmosphere out into local Omicron space.






Huh. The atmosphere hugging the dense core of this little asteroid must be strongly magnifying: Akua looks a lot farther away once I get outside the air.

But I don't need to go there. Only here.




The small pocket of smaller asteroids left over between Omicron and, for want of a better word, its moon.

My speed is a lot closer to my original goal of 195 m/s, out above the atmosphere. Not very close -- it's still only about 120 -- but enough so that I could probably fly to the moon and back with time enough to explore before I needed to return for food.




Which is good, because the first thing my sensors detect (other than some drones who are currently ignoring me and whom I'm staying well away from), is a "shipyard".

"Hey, suit! Is there a federation colony here after all?!"

"No, only survey drones have passed through the system."

So... I'll just be treating that like a pirate base, then.

Unfortunately, all the sathium turns out to be on the far side of it.

Fortunately, there are no drones at this base, and I can fly fast enough to easily loop around it to get to the sathium deposits. For safety's sake, I choose the sathium rock -- most of the asteroids are only 'rock' rock' -- farthest from the base. Which happens to be also farthest from Omicron and closest to its moon.




Soon enough I'm pulling alongside.




I guess, correctly, that the goldish color on the asteroid is the mineral I'm looking for.

As I climb out of the cockpit, I also suddenly realize I'm only guessing that my suit will do an EVO!




Good thing I guessed right!

Sathium turns out to be easier to mine than anything I can recall on not-Mars.




After starting with less than half a clip, I easily pick up almost 500 units of ore. Far more than what I'll need.

I'm a little disoriented when I finish and turn back to find my astroscout.






It takes me a minute (and a little panic) to find it. But the view of Omicron from across the belt is breathtaking.




There she is, all tiny and alone and dark, floating in the softly pulsing electrical void.

A final wave of despair washes over me, and I jetpack back to my craft in a hurry.

As I pilot safely around the belt, off in the distance I can see four more planets in this system. Or three and one moon. Or, let's be real, some larger asteroids like Omicron, accrued around dwarf star fragments, too.




I mean, it's hard to believe I'm 5 kilometers more or less from Omicron's "moon" while standing on the surface; how far away are those other rocks? Like that glowy volcanic one I've sometimes seen rising at night?




"More than a year away from the closest neighboring planet, at this speed," the suit chirps at my inquiry. I find that hard to believe, considering some of the other definite lunacies the suit seems to take for scientific fact, but whatever. It doesn't matter.

I'm going home.




And I don't mean home to Basetwo either.

[JasonPratt]

DAY THIRTEEN! -- "Be so kind as to read once more the chapter of the windmills."

With one large constructor refining my sathium into ore, I start using the flux cores and advanced CPUs I already gathered earlier.

It doesn't take long before I'm got a warp drive.




And a large generator. And a large fuel tank, too!

I even have enough for a couple of normal cap-ship thrusters.

Strictly speaking they could get me into space; and the warp drive would get me to a Federation system. But unless I want to crash into something uncontrollably when I get there, I'll need a few more things, which I start the process of manufacturing.

A cap-ship sized RCS for example.




I mount it on top of the warp drive torus, simply because the goofball physics of the engine allow me to do so!

And a couple more main thrusters, so I can move toward what the RCS allows me to rotate around to look at.

Bouncing back over to Basetwo to set those final things up, I realize I'm going to miss this place.




Not a lot, mind you. But my feelings imagine it waiting patiently for my return, unable to defend itself because I took all the promethium pods. Year after year, century after century, abandoned and alone, a skeleton devoid of life.

Like me.

Well, if the Federation ever gets around to fighting the pirate raiders for this crazy system, and securing it, maybe I'll come back someday.

And turn it into a museum.

And devote the proceeds to building a better survival kit!!

Not that I can completely complain. Enough was included for me to have this reasonable chance of getting home.

But I am dang sure going to find a lawyer as soon as I get back to civilization.

...there, the final two engines are done.

One last time I endure the shaky wiregrid computations that threaten to drop the dang things somewhere stupid on the framework.

But I endeavor to persevere, and with patience I place the final two rockets.




Oddly, I can hear an exchange of lines from an old, pre-color movie, based on a stage play about a notorious French duelist.

"Have you read Don Quioxte?" asks his political opponent.

"I have; and found myself the hero!" he proudly retorts.

"Be so kind as to read once more the chapter of the windmills."

"Chapter thirteen!"

Miffed, his opponent continues. "Windmills, you will recall, if you joust with them, may cast you down into the mire!"

"Or up," the swordsman lifts his head, "among the stars!"

...and then, as I look at the exposed cockpit, all I can hear in my mind are my prayers.




I've hunted food enough to last me more than long enough to warp to a Federal station. The number of jumps won't take long. Maybe a day, maybe two.

I've pulled enough oxybottles from the water. And converted them to oxybottles I can actually use.

I've packed all my fuel cells so I can replace them.

True, I don't have any luxuries. But I can rough it for another day or two.

I don't have any weapons either, aside from my trusty Vera. (And that rather less useful assault rifle.) But I've got plenty of ammo.

I've tacked on a couple of cargo boxes to take my remaining ores and ingots and component pieces. I'll be able to plop down a new Basetwo easily, should disaster strike, by feeding those things (and even some extra weapons I don't need) into my suit's blueprint nano-constructor.

It's time.

Power on. 800 meters to space.

I stomp the hover pedal. My Warpbase leaps for the sky.




Good, I couldn't trust the information for calculating thrust rates, and I was afraid I didn't have enough to overcome the massive weight of even such a small "capital" vessel. The single RCS is easily strong enough for me to adjust my roll and pitch as well.




700 meters to space. I pause a moment, to ascertain the thrusters will hover the Warpbase; and also to test the forward thrusters. They work fine. Upward then.




600 meters to space. Power usage is troublingly high. But I fully expect that to drop once I'm out of the atmosphere.

500. 400. 300 meters.




Ironically, I won't be able to see the ground clearly anymore, until I'm well into orbit.

Briefly I crash through the magnetic belt. Then past the upper fringes of escaping atmosphere.




Before I even know it, I'm 1300 meters past the atmosphere.




Either I'm large enough now for the plasma drones to detect at this distance, or they were only set to intercept warp-capable ships. They start their charge; but I'm a lot faster. I easily accelerate around the back side of Omicron in order to give myself time to lock in a course.




Goodbye, God be with ye, you nasty not-Mars rock!

I turn my back on it a final time -- though not without some nostalgic fondness. Not a lot, just a little.

The nearest Federation station happens to be off in roughly the same direction as Akua.




It seems like a good idea to do a test warp there. If something goes wrong, I can probably finagle a crash, and start again on a planet with breathable air!

I tell the cockpit computer to plot that course; and I engage the warp drive.

Nothing flashy but a rising whine and whiteness, just as expected. The wrenching experience of warping didn't leave me wanting to puke, which considering I couldn't take off my helmet was a good thing. Also something I hadn't accounted for. Was that because my ship had so little mass relatively? Or had I grown stronger in the past 13 days?




The glare fades. And I see Akua. It has an asteroid belt as well, in a ring widely around it. Although at the moment I'm closer to its moon.




My RCS is still working well. The warp used less energy than I worried it might.

While my ship makes the longer calcs for a set of longer jumps, I practice maneuvering over the asteroids. Pirate drones are infesting the space around Akua more than Omicron, but they won't catch me.




About halfway from the surface to the inner ring plane, is a small space station.

"I thought you said this system wasn't colonized!" I complain to the suit.

"There was one attempt that failed," she replies. That tells me pirates have almost surely usurped that place for...




...yep, a gun platform.

To hell with that.

I'm done with this nightmare. Let someone else handle it.

The new calcs ding into place, and with a contented sigh...

[JasonPratt]

DAY ZERO

Seven days to fly. And on the seventh day again, I arrived at a federal base.

I managed not to get shot from the sky, by waving my arms wildly. After all, I still didn't have a radio.

The base sure did. Lots of radios. Also, a bank, where I could prove my genetic identity and withdraw some of my meager savings, and pay for a room. And a shower. And food that wasn't bloodyworm salami.

I contacted my surviving family, and let them know that I myself had survived the loss of the cruiser.

Then, I dang well found a lawyer. Two of them, in fact. One to negotiate the rights for my story.

The other lawyer, sensing a rich payout from the corporation that had designed such a near-fatal survival kit, told me to hold tight at the station, and they would send an armed ship on autopilot to ferry me home.

I gave my report to the federal commander meanwhile. He seemed interested enough, so that I had to give that report again a few times to other higher-ups. But I eventually reminded him I wasn't in the military and needed to go home now. They could interview me there just as well.

The law firm did send a small mercenary ship, well armed, with an autopilot to take me back home. On a roundabout route.

The rationale was that the corporation that made that survival kit might arrange for me to have an accident if I traveled expected paths. I thought traveling expected paths would be safer, as they'd be less likely to try something where investigators might detect foul play.

But I didn't have authorization to change the autopilot's commands. So I went along with it.

The trip necessarily took longer, and that small ship had an inefficient warp drive. So it had to make stops at space stations along the way to refuel.

This naturally made me nervous.




So I wondered if my nerves were just seeing things, when I saw the flaming asteroids in the distance.




I blinked, and looked around in the direction they ---




-- no.

-- oh no.




NOOO!




NOOOOOOOO!




NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOO




NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO-----

plumpf

The impact throws me from the cockpit. Behind me, a soft explosion, and some fire.




still alive still alive

got my gun

not my gun not vera

but still alive




Lots of cubic silicone on this rock, clearly.

Rich in minerals.

I know what to do with that. I've done it before. I can do it again. They won't crush a Volunteer spirit. Seven days to fly; then maybe another seven days to get something I can use to...




nononononoNONOOOO!! The ship is on fire, there's not, there isn't -- !

I search the wreck, as close as I can get.

No

survival

kit


I stumble around.

Hoping.

Praying.

By God, if I do find that kit...

if it doesn't have a rescue radio, I swear I'll turn this whole rock into a space cannon




It was thrown from the wreckage. And emitting a beacon so I could find it.

It wasn't the kit, or the suit, I had had.

And it didn't have a simple, useful radio. Either.

But it would do.

it would  do

[FarAway Sooner]

Nicely done, sir!  I'm not sure that the game is my speed, but then, survival games have seldom been my cup of tea.  I definitely enjoyed the writing style.  You made an otherwise unremarkable story entertaining.  That ain't so easy to do with no dialogue, no other characters, and no chance to break 1st person and talk about the larger realities that the main character couldn't possibly know.

As I say, nicely done...    O0

[JasonPratt]

Thanks for the compliments, FAS!

The game I segue'd into, Fortresscraft Evolved, is much more difficult to write an AAR for. I'm about 25 hours into the game (I think, as of last night), and I'm nowhere even near as far along. So I've been skipping over a lot, and plan to only do occasional weekly updates.

http://grogheads.com/forums/index.php?topic=16396.0


The pace in this game is quite languid compared to most 1st/3rd person games. (And it doesn't play well in 3rd person.) But I was still off planet in about 10 hours of gameplay. On the other hand, it isn't as pushy about dealing with environmental threats of various kinds as 7 Days to Die.