Present:
- Anastasia "Stasi" Tepes. Zhodani Soldier from Querion – Shane
- Emerse Gee. Daryen Scientist from Torment – Darryl
- MARMALADING "Riley" Patrick O'Reilly. Sword-Worlder Pilot from Winston - Richard
- Anton Tositova. Solomani Gunner from Entrope - Ian
- Sang "Spanner" Hoang. Sword-Worlder Mechanic from Winston – Jeff
- Hoff Ende. Sword-Worlder Scientist from Winston - Kevin
- Belle Ende. Sword-Worlder Medic from Winston - Steven
- Itzy Ende. Sword-Worlder Soldier from Winston - Chris
- Gnostic Hands. Solomani Scientist from Entrope – Jamie
- NPC: Scurry. Drone Gunner from Winston
by Jeff (with AI assist)
Trapped
The "homeward bound" expedition to the Ancients' portal located in the H-building in Spire City had failed spectacularly.
Sure, we had managed to infiltrate the H-building, navigating through streets teeming with slishers and their grotesque machinery. We'd found the portal - that magnificent 20-meter ring of ancient metal - entered the correct target coordinates and activated the system's power with the pull of that crimson lever. Through the shimmering force-field we could even see the familiar doors of the Cauthon Institute, could make out the confused guards pointing toward us, could hear their muffled voices discussing the strange apparition in their sky.
Home was right there, tantalizingly close, separated by nothing more than a thin veil of energy.
But could we pass through and return home from this strange world in an unknown sector of the galaxy? (Actually, are we even in our own galaxy? The rose-colored sky and that pinprick neutron star suggested we might be impossibly far from Known Space.)
No. Some strange property of the portal horizon resisted all our attempts. Living flesh met that infuriating rubber-like resistance, pushing back harder the more we pressed. Only dead organic matter sailed through - a cruel irony that wasn't lost on any of us.
And not only that, our entry to the H-building had been observed by an alert slisher, and they had arrived en masse, their voiceless screams echoing through the metal corridors. No doubt they intended to impregnate us with their alien spider eggs and kill us all. Or worse - turn us into mindless thralls like Ben's "whores" or poor Fido.
Fortunately, the slishers don't appear too smart, and the back door to the portal chamber remained blessedly unguarded. We managed to evacuate the building just as the main door buckled under their assault, scrambling to the relative safety of an empty "house" nearby - just another hollow metal shell in this ancient, decaying city.
But "relative safety" was all it was. We were still trapped on planet Rose, with its radiation storms, its nightmare creatures, and its impossible physics. And somewhere out there, a giant spider the size of a building was prowling the streets of Spire City.
Analysis and Reconnaissance
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| Trapped! |
"Let's think this through systematically," Gnostic suggested, pulling out his notes. "What exactly did we see in that portal room?"
We pooled our observations, each person adding details they'd noticed during those frantic moments in the H-building. The portal ring itself - that magnificent 20-meter circle of ancient metal. The climate control system humming quietly in the corner.
A computer system with those peculiar mushroom-like control levers that Riley had manipulated. The basic HEX converter. The power system that Spanner had activated with the red lever on the mezzanine. And the coordinate entry panel with its 128 binary mushroom switches that Riley had so carefully configured.
"There has to be something we're missing," Emerse insisted, combing his hair nervously. "Some setting, some configuration that will let us through."
The discussion grew heated. Stasi, ever pragmatic, recommended we return across the planet surface and question the Ancients' Servitor again. "It gave us the coordinates. Perhaps it knows how to actually use the portal properly."
"That's six days round trip!" Riley protested, taking a swig from his dwindling whisky supply. "Six more days of radiation exposure, lightning storms, and whatever else this nightmare planet wants to throw at us."
"Not to mention the food situation," Belle added quietly, glancing at Emerse. "The acclimatization issues... and the mutations."
Emerse's hand unconsciously moved to his groin area, where the mushroom growth continued its disturbing development. He quickly pulled his hand away when he noticed everyone watching.
"We should go back to the H-building," Emerse declared, his voice taking on a stubborn edge. "Experiment with the computer system. There must be settings we didn't try, configurations we didn't explore—"
"Are you insane?" Spanner interrupted. "The place is crawling with slishers! That giant spider was right there!"
"I can be careful—"
"No." Stasi's tone brooked no argument. "We need intelligence first. Anton, you're our eyes."
Anton nodded, already checking his gear. The big man moved with surprising grace for someone his size, especially in that ridiculous bright yellow X-Boat suit. He slipped out through a gap in the metal shell and disappeared into the fungus-carpeted streets of Spire City.
The Spider's Vigil
Anton moved like a ghost through the alien cityscape, his enhanced sneaking skills keeping him in the shadows of the ancient metal structures. The constant rose-colored twilight created sharp, unforgiving shadows - perfect for concealment if you knew how to use them.
He worked his way back toward the H-building, staying low, moving during moments when the streets appeared clear. As he rounded a corner that gave him a clear view of the portal building, he froze.
The giant spider - that twenty-story nightmare of chitin and horror - was crouched directly over the H-building like some monstrous guardian. One of its massive limbs extended through the open back door and into the building itself, as if the creature was personally investigating the portal chamber within.
Around the base of the building, dozens of slishers milled about in agitated patterns. They weren't organized - not yet - but they were clearly disturbed, their tentacled forms moving in jerky, anxious motions. Whatever had happened when we activated the portal, it had definitely gotten their attention.
Anton watched for several minutes, memorizing the patterns, counting the creatures. Then, satisfied he'd learned what he could, he carefully withdrew and changed direction.
The Main Spire
The central spire tower loomed against the rose sky, taller than any other structure in the city. According to the Servitor, this was the location of the second portal. Anton approached cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest.
The tower sat within a walled compound - ancient metal barriers that had stood for three hundred thousand years. An open archway provided access, and Anton could see a few slishers moving about inside the courtyard beyond. He waited, watching their patterns, timing his approach.
When the moment came, he moved. Fast and low, he crossed the open ground and pressed himself against the wall near the tower's entrance. The door was made of that same spongy fungus-like material they'd seen elsewhere - organic, yet somehow preserved across the eons. It wasn't locked.
Anton eased it open just enough to slip through, then pulled it closed behind him. He melted into the shadows just inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior.
The chamber was vast, the ceiling lost in darkness far above. The portal ring stood in the centre - identical in design to the one in the H-building, but currently dark and inactive. But it was the activity around the portal that made Anton's blood run cold.
Slishers moved through the space with clear purpose - not the aimless milling he'd seen at the H-building, but organized, deliberate action. They were preparing something.
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| The ramp of spikey pods |
In the centre of the room, aligned perpendicular to the plane of the portal disk, a ramped rack sloped down to the face of the portal ring, like a 6ft gauge railway track, held six large objects that Anton had seen before - those ball-shaped things covered in short spikes, each about the size of an SUV.
Seeding pods, his mind supplied, though he wasn't sure where the term came from. Each pod was mounted on a wheeled trolley, and they were clearly positioned to be launched through the portal when it activated.
Anton's mind raced. Whatever the slishers were planning, it involved sending these pods somewhere. Somewhere through that portal. And given what he knew about how slishers reproduced - chest-bursting horror and all - he could guess what those pods contained.
He'd seen enough. More than enough. Time to get back and report.
Medical Investigation
While Anton was out gathering intelligence, Belle had convinced Emerse to let her conduct a proper medical examination of his... condition.
"This is humiliating," Emerse muttered, lying on one of the large blue leaves they'd brought from Ben's cave.
"It's necessary," Belle replied, her tone professional as she prepared her instruments. "We need to understand what's happening to you."
She took tissue samples from the edge of the mushroom growth, careful to cause as little discomfort as possible. Emerse still winced with each touch.
"It's sensitive," he complained. "I can feel everything you're doing."
"That's actually important information," Belle noted, making observations in her medical log. "It means the growth has integrated with your nervous system. It's not just attached to you - it's becoming part of you."
She ran her scanner over the affected area, frowning at the readings. "The cellular structure is fascinating. It's definitely fungal in origin, but it's interfacing with your human biology in ways that shouldn't be possible. The mutation is... adaptive."
"What does that mean?" Emerse asked nervously, still compulsively combing his hair with one hand.
"I'm not entirely sure yet," Belle admitted. "But whatever caused this - the radiation, the environment, something about this planet - it's rewriting your DNA to incorporate local biological features."
She carefully collected the samples in sterile containers. "We'll need to monitor this closely. If the mutation continues..."
She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.
The Search Begins
Anton returned about two hours later, slipping back into the safe house with information that changed everything.
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| The giant spider loomed over the main tower |
"The spider's moved," he reported, slightly out of breath. "It left the H-building and went to the main spire. It's standing guard there now, right over the tower."
"And the H-building?" Gnostic asked.
"That's the problem." Anton's expression was grim. "The slishers that were just milling around? They've organized. They're forming into squads of three and starting a systematic search of the area. House by house, building by building. They're working outward from the H-building in a search pattern."
"How long do we have?" Stasi was already on her feet, gathering her weapons.
Anton did quick mental calculations. "An hour. Maybe less. They'll definitely find us if we stay here."
The party exchanged glances. They were trapped in an ancient city on an alien world, hunted by creatures that wanted to implant them with spider eggs, with no way home and nowhere to run.
"Right then," Riley said, taking a long pull from his whisky flask. "Time to move. Again."
Escape and Evasion
"OK," Anton said, his tactical mind already working through the problem. "We move in stages. Leapfrog pattern, two jumps to get us back to our original safe house near the city edge."
While Anton organized the evacuation, Emerse was hunched over one of the communication units, his fingers working with practiced precision despite the stress. He rigged a delay timer to the device, setting it to activate roughly thirty minutes after our departure.
"It'll broadcast noise on a continuous loop," he explained, still compulsively combing his hair with his free hand. "Should draw the slishers away from our actual route. Give us time."
"Clever," Gnostic admitted.
"I have my moments," Emerse replied, though his hand unconsciously drifted toward his groin where the mushroom growth continued its disturbing development.
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| Traversing the city |
The second leap was equally successful. About two hours after leaving our compromised position, we arrived back at the building where we'd first taken shelter when entering Spire City - it felt like a lifetime ago.
After the first hour, Anton had risked a careful observation back toward the city centre. The giant spider remained at the main spire, its massive form unmistakable even at this distance. It hadn't moved, hadn't reacted to Emerse's decoy broadcast.
"Maybe they can't detect electromagnetic transmissions?" Spanner suggested.
"Or maybe they just don't care," Riley muttered, taking another swig of whisky.
More encouraging was the lack of slisher activity in the areas we'd traversed. The search parties hadn't spread this far yet, or perhaps Emerse's distraction had worked better than expected.
"We need to make a decision," Stasi said, her tone brooking no argument. "The H-building is compromised. The main spire is heavily guarded. And we still don't know how to actually use the portals."
"Told ya," she added with just a hint of smugness. "We should go back to the Servitor."
This time, no one argued.
Preparations
Before we committed to the three-day journey across the plains, Ben shared some disturbing intelligence.
"I've seen five different spiders during my time here," he said casually, as if discussing the weather. "Five distinct individuals. Different sizes, different markings. So there's more than just the one you've been watching."
The implications hung heavy in the air. We weren't just avoiding one nightmare creature - there was a whole population of them.
More immediately concerning was Emerse's condition. He'd tried to eat some of the cooked vulture meat and drink from our supply of the red liquid, but his body violently rejected both. He spent the next hour hunched over, vomiting, his face pale and drawn.
"I can't keep anything down," he gasped between heaves.
Belle checked him over, her medical expertise evident in her efficient examination. "Your acclimatization isn't progressing. In fact, I think you're regressing."
The mechanics were cruel but simple. Each person's body either adapted to the local food and water, or it didn't. Most of the party had fully acclimatized by now. But Emerse, with his poor constitution, was struggling. And the consequences of continued failure were stark: dehydration, starvation, death.
That evening, as we prepared to sleep in the relative safety of the metal shell, the daily food and water checks were made. Hoff successfully processed both the local food and water - his body had finally, fully adapted. Belle also succeeded on both counts, hopefully soon to join the ranks of the acclimatized.
But Emerse rolled poorly. Very poorly. Whatever progress his body had made was wiped out in a violent reaction that left him weak and shaking. His effective constitution, which had been slowly building, crashed back down to its baseline of 8.
"Three failed water rolls and you're dead from dehydration," Belle said quietly, making sure only Emerse heard. "You understand that, right?"
Emerse nodded weakly, still combing his hair with trembling fingers. "How many have I had?"
"Well, that was no success. You're running out of chances."
Day One: The Plains
The journey across the plains began well enough. The party moved in formation, Ben and his "family" integrated into our group. The six Zhodani women shuffled along obediently, and Fido - once a Vargr, now more wolf than sophont - padded alongside.
The landscape was surreal as always. The spongy fungal ground, the giant, blue-tinged leaves, the mushroom growths sprouting at intervals. The rose-coloured sky never changed, that eternal twilight that played tricks on your sense of time.
Anton kept watch for threats - whumpers, flying creatures, or worse. But the day passed without incident.
That evening, we made camp in a rocky area. The food and water checks came around again.
Emerse failed both.
He spent the night curled up, dry heaving, his body rejecting everything he tried to consume. Belle sat with him, monitoring his vital signs, but there was little she could do.
"One more water failure," she reminded him quietly. "Just one more."
Day Two: Dehydration
The second day of travel was harder. Emerse was visibly weakening, his steps unsteady, his skin taking on an unhealthy pallor beneath the rose-tinted light. We had to slow our pace to accommodate him.
"Keep going," he insisted when someone suggested we rest. "I'm fine. Just need to... keep moving."
But he wasn't fine. Everyone could see it.
That evening, when we made camp, Belle had successfully adapted to both food and water - fully acclimatized at last. It was small comfort given what happened next.
Emerse managed to keep down some of the food - a small victory that brought a weak smile to his face. But the water...
He took a sip of the red liquid, and immediately his body convulsed. He vomited violently, then collapsed, unconscious.
"No, no, no," Belle was at his side instantly, checking his pulse, his breathing. "Severe dehydration. His body's shutting down."
She tried everything in her medical kit. Stimulants to keep his heart going. Attempts to get fluids into him by any means possible. But there was no fresh water, no saline solution, no proper medical equipment.
We all knew what was coming.
Emerse regained consciousness once, briefly. His eyes found Gnostic, then Riley, then the others. He tried to speak, but only managed a whisper: "Tell them... tell them I tried..."
His hand, even then, reached for his comb. Old habits.
Then he was gone.
The Body
We sat in silence for a long time. Even on this nightmare planet, death hit hard. Emerse had been annoying at times, neurotic certainly, but he'd been one of us. And now he was just... gone.
The Zhodani women approached the body with an animal hunger. Ben didn't stop them as they fed on what remained of Emerse's blood. It seemed somehow appropriate - nothing wasted on this world.
"We take him with us," Gnostic said finally. "We get home; we give him a proper burial. He deserves that much."
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| We wrapped Emerse's body ... |
No one argued. We wrapped Emerse's body in one of the large blue leaves, then gathered his equipment. His computer with its cached Galactipedia. His testing equipment. His faraday bird cage. His comb.
Tomorrow we'd reach the Servitor's valley. Tomorrow we'd get answers.
Tonight, we mourned.
Day Three: The Valley
The final day of travel was subdued. We carried Emerse's wrapped body, taking turns with the burden. No one complained.
As we approached the valley where the Servitor's cave lay, Anton spotted movement in the distance - the giant snake, its grey-colored body barely distinguishable against the rocky terrain. But it was far enough away that we could easily cross to the cave entrance.
We descended into the familiar tunnel system, ducking under the faint light beam that Gnostic had identified on our previous visit. Down to the chamber with the handprint.
Gnostic placed his hand on the familiar surface, and the steam door hissed open. We filed into the Servitor's chamber.
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| Talking to the servitor |
The beautiful humanoid form materialized as before, its attention immediately focusing on Gnostic.
"Welcome back," it said in perfect English. "How may I provide information?"
Gnostic wasted no time. "How do we get our living, non-Ancient bodies through the portal field and back home?"
The Truth
The Servitor's response was matter of fact, almost casual in its delivery of what should have been devastating news.
"Portal transit requires the absence of cellular biological activity. Living tissue cannot pass through the dimensional barrier."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"So, we have to be dead?" Riley asked, his voice hollow.
"Cellular activity must be absent," the Servitor clarified. "However, a sealed container constructed from non-living biological material would provide adequate shielding. The container itself would pass through, and any contents within would be protected from the field's detection."
Gnostic's mind was already racing through the implications. "A sealed vehicle. Made from... what? Dead organic matter?"
"Correct. The material must be biological in origin - your term 'organic chemistry' is a good approximation - no longer metabolically active."
We looked at each other. The giant snake - its skin could potentially be fashioned into some kind of container. It was roughly two meters in diameter and a hundred meters long. Plenty of material.
"How would we kill something that size?" Spanner wondered aloud.
But Anton was staring at nothing, his mind clearly elsewhere. Then his eyes widened.
"The seeding pods," he said. "Back at the main spire. Those spiked balls the slishers were preparing to send through the portal."
Understanding rippled through the group.
"They're already designed to go through," Gnostic said slowly. "Already sealed. Already the right size."
"And if the slishers are planning to send them through with... cargo inside," Stasi added, "then they must have an opening. A way to load them."
"We'd need at least two," Gnostic calculated, mentally counting heads. "The party, Ben, his companions... two pods should fit everyone."
A plan was forming. Dangerous, audacious, probably insane.
But it was a plan.
"Right then," Riley said, and this time when he pulled out his whisky flask, he raised it in a toast. "To Emerse. And to getting the hell off this planet."
We all drank to that.
Recovery and Return
We spent the rest of the day in the relative safety of the Servitor's cave, recovering our strength and exploring our temporary sanctuary. At the back of the cavern, a circular tunnel descended into darkness - smooth-walled and clearly artificial, unlike the natural rock formations around it.
"Waste disposal, maybe?" Spanner suggested, peering down into the gloom.
Anton led a small expedition down the tunnel, but it grew steeper and steeper until the angle became treacherous. Without proper climbing gear, going further would be foolish.
"Nothing down there but a broken neck waiting to happen," Anton reported when they returned.
We settled in for the night - or what passed for night on this world of eternal rose-tinted twilight. Tomorrow we'd begin the three-day journey back to Spire City. Back to danger. Back to our only hope of escape.
In the morning, after a meal of vulture meat and the purple goop from the blue leaves (which all of us could now consume without issue), we prepared to depart. Anton scouted ahead, making sure the giant snake was nowhere near our planned route across the valley.
"Clear," he reported. "The snake's on the far side, maybe a kilometre away."
We moved quickly, crossing the valley floor with Emerse's wrapped body carried carefully among us. No one spoke much. There wasn't much to say.
Three Days of Travel
The journey back across the plains was mercifully uneventful. No whumpers. No flying predators. Just the endless spongy fungal ground, the scattered mushroom growths, and that unchanging sky.
We fell into a rhythm: travel during the active periods, rest in rocky areas when fatigue set in, always watching the horizon for threats. The electrical storms came at random times, but we'd learned to anticipate them - grounding our metal equipment, taking cover when possible.
Ben and his companions integrated seamlessly into our routine. The six Zhodani women moved like trained dogs, obeying Ben's commands. Fido ranged ahead and to the sides, his wolf instincts making him an excellent early warning system.
On the third day, as Spire City's jagged skyline appeared on the horizon, we made camp at our established position just outside the city limits. Time for Anton to do what he did best.
Reconnaissance
Anton slipped into the city alone, moving through the metal corridors with practiced stealth. His objectives were clear: verify the giant spider's position, assess slisher activity levels, and determine if our previous safe houses were still viable.
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| Slisher patrols scurried about |
The H-building remained a hotspot of activity. Dozens of slishers swarmed around it, and Anton could see they'd reinforced the entrances. Whatever we'd done by activating that portal, it had definitely gotten their attention.
More concerning - or perhaps reassuring, depending on perspective - the giant spider still stood guard at the main spire tower. Its massive bulk was unmistakable, one leg resting against the tower's wall as if claiming ownership.
Anton carefully mapped the patrol patterns, noting the safe routes and the danger zones. After nearly two hours of observation, he was satisfied. The path to the building with the rejected seeding pod was clear enough - with only one potential choke point where a slisher patrol might cross their route.
He made his way back to the camp.
"It's doable," he reported. "But we'll need to move fast and quiet. There's one spot where we might run into a patrol, but if we time it right..."
Into the City
We moved as a group, Anton leading, Stasi bringing up the rear. The Zhodani women and Fido were positioned in the middle, where they could be controlled and protected.
The city felt more oppressive than before. Maybe it was knowing what we were up against. Maybe it was carrying Emerse's body. Or maybe the slishers' increased activity had changed the atmosphere - made it feel more like we were invading occupied territory rather than sneaking through ruins.
We made it through the first section without incident, moving from safe house to safe house in quick sprints. Then came the choke point Anton had warned about.
Anton held up a fist - the universal signal to stop. We froze.
Through a gap in the metal walls, we could see three slishers moving perpendicular to our route. Their tentacles writhed as they communicated in their voiceless way, and for a heart-stopping moment, one of them seemed to look directly at our position.
No one breathed.
The slisher turned away, following its companions down a side corridor.
Anton waited a full minute, then signalled: move.
We crossed the danger zone in seconds, practically running to the next safe house. Only when we were inside, the metal walls between us and the patrol, did anyone relax.
"Too close," Riley muttered, his whisky flask already at his lips.
"But we made it," Stasi countered. "Keep moving."
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at our destination - the building containing the spiked seeding pod we'd discovered on our previous foray into the city.
The Rejected Pod
The pod sat where we'd left it, that SUV-sized sphere of spikes and chitin, looking simultaneously organic and alien. Now, with our new understanding of what these things were designed for, it took on a more sinister aspect.
"Right," Gnostic said, approaching it carefully. "Let's see what we're dealing with."
We studied the surface in detail, running our hands over the rough, spiked exterior. Belle took samples of the material, her medical scanner analysing its composition.
"Organic," she confirmed. "Definitely dead tissue. Some kind of chitin-based composite. It's incredibly strong - natural armour."
"There," Spanner pointed. "See that line?"
A fine circular seam ran around one section of the sphere, about two meters in diameter. Three of the spikes extended from this section, positioned like handles.
We all stopped and listened carefully. If there was something alive inside...
Silence. No movement. No sound.
"Okay," Anton said, gripping one of the spikes. "Let's try opening it."
He twisted. Nothing happened.
"Other direction?" Spanner suggested.
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| It opened! |
"Careful," Belle warned as it came free. "Don't drop it."
We lowered the hatch to the ground with a dull thud.
The interior was revealed - a smooth, spherical chamber, its walls the same chitin material as the exterior. It was large enough to fit several people, maybe six or seven if they squeezed.
But there was a problem.
A large crack ran along the bottom of the chamber, splitting the material in a jagged line. It wasn't catastrophic - the pod was still intact - but it was definitely damaged.
"It's a reject," Gnostic concluded, running his fingers along the crack. "That's why it's here, in this abandoned building, instead of with the others."
We all understood the implication. The only intact seeding pods we'd seen were on the launching ramp in the portal room at the main tower.
The tower guarded by a twenty-story spider.
"So," Riley said, taking another pull from his flask. "We need to steal two functional seeding pods from under the nose of a giant monster and however many slishers are in that tower. While somehow not getting killed, implanted with spider eggs, or turned into mindless thralls."
He looked around at the group.
"Anyone have any ideas?"
The silence that followed was answer enough.
