- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
Well... I was too exhausted to read through everything last night, but I did now... and it's a little farther, Reaper pretty much did my job for me. *grumbles* guy whines when I just saved him time in blowing his own ship up. *chuckles* Ah well... I'll still be around, but I'm in a rather dissappointed mood, because I just got Homeworld 2 yesterday and found that it only barely runs on my comp, even though I am above the recommended system specs. Until later then.
The Praetor calmly watches as the war unfolds, slightly shaking his head at the chaos that engulfed the Tempest. As Chronos floats amidst the debris, the figure's words come back to him once more... "Empires fall. There are no exceptions." As he meditated on this, he realized the voice was no longer within his head, but without:
Now you begin to interest me. Your actions do not match with my previous encounters of AI's... you seem so... human. This may be the sign I've required. Come, I have need of your presence.
With that, the space before him suddenly blossomed into a flaring light, opening the way for a ship of immense proportions to project itself into his vicinity. It seemed a darkness that blended in with the stars themselves, a shillouette against the deepest night sky. Before he could stare at it long, he found himself lurching forward into a flash of light, and he landed on the cold deck of a ship. As he looked up, he beheld once more the figure that seemed to haunt the room with his presence. This time though, he was not simply darkness, but had features within his frame. He donned an almost common-looking environment suit, yet it posessed strange markings and symbols in certain places. It was also clearly combat armor, not for maintainence use or any other menial task. He wore a helmet, looking something like a cross between that of a pilot and an infantry tactical ops. It had an opaque visor that covered his face, yet he thought he detected a faint glow coming from within it...
Welcome to the Celer Manus Dei. I've brought you here because you've defied something I thought you were, and I think you may become something neither of us predict. I am not quite sure what compells me to do this, other than it is my calling to do so, but I have a mission for you. I gave an orb containing great power of my masters to one who I thought would use it for good, but instead it fell into darkness... now, it's power is being abused by one being of your acquaintence, a destroyer who is trying to raise up a demonic army of the past. Before, I took part in this confict... yet it is the way of the Praetor to not have one being last for eternity. Sacrifice must take place. In past times, disastrous results have occurred from the transition of this office from one being to the next. Yet it must be done... I know not what lies in your future, but something in you intrigues me... I want to test it. I shall give you a complete repair, a suit of armor comparable to mine –do not let it fool you, it is far better equipped than the highest grade of conventional armor– and my assistance, should you require it in your mission. I require you to find this being, this shadow of death that has killed so many, and retrieve the orb from him. Should you choose to accept this, you will be permitted to keep the suit, as well as choose your own course to travel in the universe. But, should you desire and prove yourself to me, my masters may bestow a greater honor upon you yet if you return. Whatever you choose, you will find your suit has the capability to teleport over a considerable distance through slipspace –30 thousand light years, to be precise– and you will be bound only by your word until you return. Let us see how highly you value it. I shall be watching.
With that, Chronus is engulfed in a shaft of light that blinds him momentarily, yet as his vision is restored, he notices that he is clad indeed in armor comparable to that of the figure before him. His weapon, embedded in his right hand, appears to be some kind of assault rifle, yet on an examination, his HUD inside his helmet shows him that it is a matter conversion projector, a type of weapon that literally rips atoms from their seams and can reconstruct them at will, whether to form an explosion, implosion, or simply a forceful push in a given direction. The suit itself runs on a layer of liquid crystalline plasma, interspersed with "nerve centers" that gather raw matter from outside the suit and convert it into fuel on a microscopic level. They also project an energy barrier surrounding the suit that is capable of literally absorbing all energy; kinetic, chemical, light, heat, anything. The kinetic and heat energy of say, a bullet, would dissapate inside this field, stopping the shell mere inches from the wearer and reducing it to room temperature. In it's extreme usage, say in close combat, the suit could be set to absorb all energy from it's surroundings, so that any attacker would find their blade stopped and frozen solid at absolute zero in mid-swipe. The object could then be shattered with the flick of a finger. All in all, it was one monster of a one-man-army, and it was now in Chronus' possession. As he examined his new toys, the voice addressed him once more:
Well, what say you?