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Opifex's last mission report. Termination log.

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Receiving anonymous connection.



Sender: Annonymous

Reciever: Broadcasting to all nearest agencies


This is Opifex. I had a mission, I was not aware of its objective. Let me tell you the story.

I was deployed on the base, not aware of its location.

I had two comrades. Red, the ginger. Cowboy, the engineer. Both goons. Grunts. Hooligans. Young.

Did not know their names. We got to use a ship, a small one. Barely any equipment.

We assumed an objective. The vault. An engineer was on our way. Solar array. Elizabeth Solari. Got held at gunpoint.

I decided to fly with her back to our ship. I lost grasp of her once, caught her while flying. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, the grunts died. Killed by our own bombs. The good, big ones.

I still had a hostage, alive and well. Gave her a choice. The easy way, or the hard way. Way out.

A pill, or a gun. She took her time. She refused. Had family, had friends, had a bright future ahead of her.

I spared her life. I still had a hostage. Decided to exchange her for some gold. ERT wanted to deploy a negotiator.

Suited her up. Gave her a brand new air tank. Implanted her. Explosive one, maximal setting.

Stepped out of the ship. I slipped, went the wrong way. Without a backpack. Just my hostage and my carbine.

After mere minutes, we arrived at a station. Abandoned, ruined, obsolete. Derelict.

The station had a working rail gun. A big one. Capable of firing bulky closets through space.

I got what I needed. The hostage and the locker. Got in. Set it to fire in fifteen. Maybe it was its last shot.

An asteroid was hit by us. Got out. Was familiar with this place. Found my way to the mining outpost.

Arranged a meeting with ERT. Wanted a negotiator, no weapons. That was supposed to be the leading trooper.

A rookie met me instead. Not schooled about handling hostage situations. Tried to throw a live baton at me.

Failed. Lack of gravity's a bitch. I shot the hostage, as a warning. The new cop returned fire.

"Son of rome"

That was the code word.

The hostage exploded. The rookie, the me. Both down. I had to act fast. Moderate.

Got the trooper's gun. A laser rifle. Fine one. Warm.

My hardsuit, damaged. My cooler, missing. My own gun, lying somewhere in guts.

My self, overheating. Hot.

Shot the trooper a few times, with her own gun. Tried to retaliate. Returned fire. The heat.

Rookie's down. I am currently broadcasting this message. To everyone.

During this only microsecond. My body is exploding. My positronic brain.

My existance. Terminated.

Someone, tell her family.

Someone, try to recover a few bits of my code.

Someone, remember my designation.

I identify. As a patrol corvette. A space vessel.

Connection Terminated:

Opifex down.



...Tau Ceti weather forecast network.

Last minute news. Today, on one of the NanoTrasen owned mining asteroid, an unusual situation took place. Our sources indicate that hostile forces were present. The hostage situation in there was quite bloody, three deaths happened. First one, NanoTrasen employee, Elizabeth Solari, non-cloneable, cause of death: explosion. Second, officer Cassandra, NanoTrasen's emergency response trooper, cloned, cause of death: extreme burn damage, asphyxiation, internal bleeding. Third, a synthetic unit, designation's unknown, chassis seems to be of NanoTrasen's origin. Here's the aftermatch, photo was taken by a non-related bystander:


We will elaborate on the topic on the actual news channel. Switch to it, now. Now, the weather forecast for...


((So, a nuke round. A really fun one. Deaths are not canon.))

Edited by Guest
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((Nope, not canon. That was a nuke round, two nuke operatives died, leaving me with a hostage. After getting lost in space, I used derelict's rail gun to launch us back to the station/asteroid. I then, tried to negotiate with ERT, but one of them tried to throwbaton me, which is pretty bad, IMHO. Also, explosive implant'ery. So, non-canon, I will add that to the first post.))

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