<!--QuoteBegin--Jammer+Jun 26 2003, 09:57 PM--></span><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>QUOTE</b> (Jammer @ Jun 26 2003, 09:57 PM)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteEBegin--> Its great to be involved in the forums, but please don't be a Topic Necromancer. Bumps are usually with posts that die after a day or 2... this was full fledged 'Rising from the Dead' Jesus stuff. :-P <!--QuoteEnd--> </td></tr></table><span class='postcolor'> <!--QuoteEEnd--> Still better to see something like this risen from the dead, rather than some other threads out there.
And will Flayra be doing a NS single-player campaign anytime soon? Not bloody likely, at least not without some serious investment. But it's fun to speculate on what we might LIKE to see someday. And sure you would be "ripping off" Flayra's world, but I doubt Flayra would Fox you right away, unless he totally disliked the way the project was going, or you started to make money off of the idea. I would view it as an homage to his creation, and perhaps an expansion. And, were the project executed well enough, a way for those involved in the project to be noticed by a rising star in the world of game design.
-Ryan!
"Nothing is more dangerous than an idea when it's the only one you've got." -- Alain (Emile August Chartier)
[MISSION T+6:34:55 COMBAT THEATRE: TAU CENTAURI] The dry, grassy plains seem to move like a single living body from the gust of our rapidly descending speed ship. I load my Combat Light Assault Weapon, my CLAW, as the pilot announced T -5 to LZ We are the TSA elite, and the corporates have not detected our small stealth vessel. And yet something is different about this mission; destroy a corporation laboratory that intelligence has revealed to be holding a captured alien lifeform. The breifing was unusually short. We are to gather intelligence on the corporation's experiments and sterilize the facility with a tactical nuclear device. My power armor goes active, my motions become effortless, every thought a reality, my aim perfect. The combat nanites that surge through my bloodstream are heating up, ready to devour the enemy and repair my body should it be damaged. My neural interface makes my squad, the nanites, our equipment one. <i>We</i> are ready. An explosion shakes up dust from the complex below us. Their communications are down. Armed humans rush out of the complex. They are cut down by our ship's gauss gun...
And so on. I love the idea. I can't help myself; here's a bit of a worse situation.
[MISSION T+13:54:22 COMBAT THEATRE: TAU CENTAURI] Casualties are heavy on both sides. Most of the mercenary force has been killed, but we have also lost 8 of our squad of 14. On this colony world, only a few civilian ships could escape the xenoforms. The rest have been left in the main cities, where most of the alien activity is. We could not possible cover the entire city, but our resources are many. After the primary infestation began and it was clear the xenoforms could not be controlled, we doubled back to a city surrounded completely by the sea. It was there we armed a militia of approximately 2,300 with the best weapons and equipment the factory's nanites could manage, along with standard V-62 transports to carry them to our current location on the outskirts of what has been dubbed City 17. I lead the charge into the city. Our armored elements, which cannot be effectively deployed in an urban environment, are stationed along the flanks. The city is motionless. An ear piercing roar causes a mild pain in my ears, even through the canal supressors. An organism easily the size of a Mark XXII charged through a building directly in front of me. My CLAW is of no use, I target instead the streams of enemies emerging from the ruined streets. Countless 80mm hi-velocity armor piercing rounds from the Dragon medium tank's autocannons pound on the behemoths armor, with no effect. My CLAW is the most effective projectile weapon belonging to the class of "small arms," and yet it takes over 30 rounds to kill the largest in the sea of the swarming creatures, something that reminds me of a Terran rhinocerous. Several spider-like organisms emerge, easily as large as a Scorpion main battle tank, crawling across the buildings that still stand through the heat of battle. I bark into my radio to the pilots of the Dragon mediums "Concentrate autocannon fire on the spiders, synchronize firing of main cannon on the giant!" The giant has been shaking for most of the battle. There was a loud liquid noise, and then a spray of viscous acid the size of several large waterfalls sprayed over our western forces. I winced in pain as my neural connection with 3 of my remaining squadmates is severed instantly. My HUD shows more than 2/3rds of the militia element elimanated, and all armor on the left flank has been destroyed. The main cannons of the Dragons finally shreik as they convert air into star-core plasma and propell it forward with immensely powerful magnets. The plasma bolts were spread evenly across the giant's front, and instantly incinerate half of it. The other half pours out like an insane stew and smothers most of the alien swarm. It is not enough. The militia line broke at the behemoth's acid attack and only 30 remain by my side. The rest of my squad is out of contact for unknown reasons. At least unknown to the computer in my helmet. Black organisms with scythe-like arms and pinkish worms on their shoulders that appear to be some sort of parasite have reached the line. They tear through the militiamen. The torrent of blood is small compared to the number of corpses I have piled up. 4 distinct types of alien lie dead in heaps in front of me. Their attack wavers, but all the militiamen are dead. Tanks are not responding. I am out of ammunition. 5 of the small quadrupedal aliens leap at me. I force myself to concentrate, to channel my thoughts into reality. Nanites heed my call. They combust in a wave of fire across four of the aliens, instantly roasting them. The last survives and latches onto my forearm. Impossibly, the teeth penetrate my titanium/ceramic power armor and rip apart my arm. The pain clouds my mind, I cannot rely on the nanites to hear me. I grip the alien with my other hand, getting a good hold of its skull. The power armor crushes it into a bloody pulp. One last alien has found me, one of the rhinocer-
Comments
And from memory it was no future plans are made for SP
Still better to see something like this risen from the dead, rather than some other threads out there.
And will Flayra be doing a NS single-player campaign anytime soon? Not bloody likely, at least not without some serious investment. But it's fun to speculate on what we might LIKE to see someday. And sure you would be "ripping off" Flayra's world, but I doubt Flayra would Fox you right away, unless he totally disliked the way the project was going, or you started to make money off of the idea. I would view it as an homage to his creation, and perhaps an expansion. And, were the project executed well enough, a way for those involved in the project to be noticed by a rising star in the world of game design.
-Ryan!
"Nothing is more dangerous than an idea when it's the only one you've got."
-- Alain (Emile August Chartier)
The dry, grassy plains seem to move like a single living body from the gust of our rapidly descending speed ship. I load my Combat Light Assault Weapon, my CLAW, as the pilot announced T -5 to LZ We are the TSA elite, and the corporates have not detected our small stealth vessel. And yet something is different about this mission; destroy a corporation laboratory that intelligence has revealed to be holding a captured alien lifeform. The breifing was unusually short. We are to gather intelligence on the corporation's experiments and sterilize the facility with a tactical nuclear device. My power armor goes active, my motions become effortless, every thought a reality, my aim perfect. The combat nanites that surge through my bloodstream are heating up, ready to devour the enemy and repair my body should it be damaged. My neural interface makes my squad, the nanites, our equipment one. <i>We</i> are ready. An explosion shakes up dust from the complex below us. Their communications are down. Armed humans rush out of the complex. They are cut down by our ship's gauss gun...
And so on. I love the idea. I can't help myself; here's a bit of a worse situation.
[MISSION T+13:54:22 COMBAT THEATRE: TAU CENTAURI]
Casualties are heavy on both sides. Most of the mercenary force has been killed, but we have also lost 8 of our squad of 14. On this colony world, only a few civilian ships could escape the xenoforms. The rest have been left in the main cities, where most of the alien activity is. We could not possible cover the entire city, but our resources are many. After the primary infestation began and it was clear the xenoforms could not be controlled, we doubled back to a city surrounded completely by the sea. It was there we armed a militia of approximately 2,300 with the best weapons and equipment the factory's nanites could manage, along with standard V-62 transports to carry them to our current location on the outskirts of what has been dubbed City 17. I lead the charge into the city. Our armored elements, which cannot be effectively deployed in an urban environment, are stationed along the flanks. The city is motionless. An ear piercing roar causes a mild pain in my ears, even through the canal supressors. An organism easily the size of a Mark XXII charged through a building directly in front of me. My CLAW is of no use, I target instead the streams of enemies emerging from the ruined streets. Countless 80mm hi-velocity armor piercing rounds from the Dragon medium tank's autocannons pound on the behemoths armor, with no effect. My CLAW is the most effective projectile weapon belonging to the class of "small arms," and yet it takes over 30 rounds to kill the largest in the sea of the swarming creatures, something that reminds me of a Terran rhinocerous. Several spider-like organisms emerge, easily as large as a Scorpion main battle tank, crawling across the buildings that still stand through the heat of battle. I bark into my radio to the pilots of the Dragon mediums "Concentrate autocannon fire on the spiders, synchronize firing of main cannon on the giant!" The giant has been shaking for most of the battle. There was a loud liquid noise, and then a spray of viscous acid the size of several large waterfalls sprayed over our western forces. I winced in pain as my neural connection with 3 of my remaining squadmates is severed instantly. My HUD shows more than 2/3rds of the militia element elimanated, and all armor on the left flank has been destroyed. The main cannons of the Dragons finally shreik as they convert air into star-core plasma and propell it forward with immensely powerful magnets. The plasma bolts were spread evenly across the giant's front, and instantly incinerate half of it. The other half pours out like an insane stew and smothers most of the alien swarm. It is not enough. The militia line broke at the behemoth's acid attack and only 30 remain by my side. The rest of my squad is out of contact for unknown reasons. At least unknown to the computer in my helmet. Black organisms with scythe-like arms and pinkish worms on their shoulders that appear to be some sort of parasite have reached the line. They tear through the militiamen. The torrent of blood is small compared to the number of corpses I have piled up. 4 distinct types of alien lie dead in heaps in front of me. Their attack wavers, but all the militiamen are dead. Tanks are not responding. I am out of ammunition. 5 of the small quadrupedal aliens leap at me. I force myself to concentrate, to channel my thoughts into reality. Nanites heed my call. They combust in a wave of fire across four of the aliens, instantly roasting them. The last survives and latches onto my forearm. Impossibly, the teeth penetrate my titanium/ceramic power armor and rip apart my arm. The pain clouds my mind, I cannot rely on the nanites to hear me. I grip the alien with my other hand, getting a good hold of its skull. The power armor crushes it into a bloody pulp. One last alien has found me, one of the rhinocer-
Whoa. I got carried away.