392 lines
19 KiB
Plaintext
392 lines
19 KiB
Plaintext
|
;
|
||
|
; Sid Meier's ALPHA CENTAURI
|
||
|
;
|
||
|
; Backstory Interludes
|
||
|
;
|
||
|
; Copyright (c) 1997, 1998 by Firaxis Games, Inc.
|
||
|
;
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^INTERLUDE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. $NUM0
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
#EPILOGUE
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^EPILOGUE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. 1,027,823
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
#EPILOGUE2
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^EPILOGUE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. $NUM2 (Seed Year 1)
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
#EPILOGUE3
|
||
|
#xs 400
|
||
|
^^
|
||
|
^^EPILOGUE
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^from
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^The Book of Planet
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^^M.Y. $NUM2
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
^
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE0
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Victory is Sweet
|
||
|
^ You wonder if, in your subconscious mind, you ever really thought you'd
|
||
|
see this day. Then you put that thought aside, for the last disc is spun.
|
||
|
The last rivet is in place. The last steel veneer has been polished. It is
|
||
|
time.
|
||
|
^ "Leader." Your assistant's head is bowed, waiting dutifully. Her emanations
|
||
|
are formal and rich with meaning. "Will you
|
||
|
add the power and deliver us from exile?"
|
||
|
^ You shake your neck in assent, and close the connection. The Subspace
|
||
|
Generators grab hold of the string resonance fields, and quantum levels of
|
||
|
power begin to course through the individual parts. Soon their beams will arc
|
||
|
high above your nation, and there a hole will be driven into subspace. Through
|
||
|
that hole, across distances immeasurable to any brain, a message will fly. The
|
||
|
Resonance Communicator will sends its distress beacon to the homeworld, and they
|
||
|
will know your voice.
|
||
|
^ Green light begins to glow. Soon. Soon,
|
||
|
you will see your beloved Kenal K'esh again. Soon you will find your brethren. And
|
||
|
when you find them, they will come to your aid with ships and soldiers, and
|
||
|
every other living being on Manifold Six will know your power. It has been
|
||
|
so long in coming.
|
||
|
^ Green light arcs up into the sky, and the world is forever changed.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE1
|
||
|
#xs500
|
||
|
#caption None Can Stop Us Now
|
||
|
^ You ride the howling needlejet and land back in the capital in record time.
|
||
|
The pilot was obviously trying to impress you, and he's succeeded. You hurry
|
||
|
into the command room and savor the waves of resonance as they show you the
|
||
|
surface of Manifold Six: everywhere you look, you see your own forces. There
|
||
|
are a few shattered remnants of enemy resistance, but they are mere pockets
|
||
|
of color in an otherwise clean wash of the Progenitor tide.
|
||
|
^ When all else fails, you reflect, simply remove all opposition. Then there
|
||
|
is time enough for any plan. You're not sure if you want to contact the
|
||
|
homeworld right away, or further your own power a bit first--but it doesn't
|
||
|
matter, does it? There's nothing to stop you no matter what you decide to do.
|
||
|
^ It's a very, very good feeling.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE2
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Shrunken Heads
|
||
|
^ The field tanks resonate with spectral pictures of the alien intruders, captured
|
||
|
during that first encounter. If you
|
||
|
squinted, you might mistake them for Progenitor younglings--but with diseased,
|
||
|
shrunken heads. They look like the entertainment story conjurations of primitive
|
||
|
tribal feeders in the dark parts of the homeworld. They look disgusting.
|
||
|
^ Their primitive nature is nowhere so apparent as in their inability to
|
||
|
communicate--they can make noise, but they cannot alter it properly.
|
||
|
This is bad, because you have no idea how in the Six Manifolds they
|
||
|
got here, and you'd desperately like to know.
|
||
|
^ "Tell me your theories," you alter. The steady resonant hum of the room hangs
|
||
|
empty for several circulatory pulses. Then, the junior stochastic resonates.
|
||
|
^ "They are a creation of the Manifold," she vibrates hesitantly. There is general
|
||
|
scoffing. You try to be more gentle.
|
||
|
^ "No, Canla, this cannot be," you alter. "Their biology is DNA-incompatible. They
|
||
|
must be from off-world." There is a general alteration of assent.
|
||
|
^ "But how can a race sophisticated enough to traverse the stars be in such a
|
||
|
primitive state?" resonates the general.
|
||
|
^ There is more empty humming. Then Canla, undaunted, speaks again.
|
||
|
^ "Perhaps they suffered a fate similar to ours," she alters. "After all, look
|
||
|
at the state we're in."
|
||
|
^ The pain of that is incontrovertible. And somewhere out there is the hated $OTHERALIENS6.
|
||
|
You wonder if you can make these offworlders your allies, before the enemy does. Your
|
||
|
first task, then, is to learn how their minds work so you can communicate with them. You
|
||
|
wonder how difficult it could be to think like an alien.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE3
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Ancient Ones
|
||
|
^ The council might as well be dipped in a vat of flaming vegetable matter--
|
||
|
the resonations of fear are as intense. You try to remain calm, to show a cool
|
||
|
leadership you do not feel. Somehow, from somewhere, offworlders are occupying
|
||
|
the precious Manifold!
|
||
|
^ "The key is continued communication," you alter. "Their ability to make
|
||
|
wave-forms in the atmosphere is useful, but their understanding of the alteration
|
||
|
process is key. If they can be reasoned with, they can be made ally. If they can
|
||
|
be made ally, they can aid us against our enemy."
|
||
|
^ The general nods, and resonates an aura of confidence for the first time. "True,"
|
||
|
he alters. "But I fear; though they look like ancient, feeble members of our race, they are
|
||
|
totally alien. What if their cause and our cause do not coincide?"
|
||
|
^ "Then we must find out their cause," you alter, "and appeal to it. Become what they
|
||
|
want us to become. All the while, we must continue to further our own aims."
|
||
|
^ The xenobiologist--the closest thing you've got to a xenopsychologist--flutters
|
||
|
his mandibles. "But they claim they are here as colonists! Our aims do not and cannot
|
||
|
coincide with this! Sooner or later, we must destroy them in order to $EXPLOITORPRISTINE7!"
|
||
|
^ You alter the biologist's words with smooth calm. "I hope that this can come later--far later.
|
||
|
We must use them first if we can...and if we cannot, then we must destroy them swiftly,
|
||
|
and without mercy."
|
||
|
^ The alterations to [that] are [very] positive.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE4
|
||
|
#xs500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Monkey See, Monkey Do...What?
|
||
|
^ "Look carefully," the biologist alters so softly you can barely distinguish the
|
||
|
change. "Watch what it does."
|
||
|
^ You find that difficult--the captured human is as ugly as a new hatchling, but
|
||
|
without the pleasing sliminess. You force yourself to observe, however, for
|
||
|
observation--and understanding--are one of the keys to survival on Manifold Six.
|
||
|
^ The human has been starved for several days. Now, food is placed at the top
|
||
|
of the room, hanging from a hook. Several boxes have been scattered about the
|
||
|
room as well. Presumably it will build some sort of tower to gain access to the
|
||
|
food.
|
||
|
^ "What will this prove?" you alter, bored.
|
||
|
^ "Watch! Watch!" the biologist alters excitedly.
|
||
|
^ The human looks around the room a while, then sits motionless. It makes
|
||
|
sound waves with its breathing apparatus. It sits and stares about the room.
|
||
|
^ "Is it stupid?" you alter.
|
||
|
^ "No!" alters the biologist triumphantly. "It's defiant! The sound waves are its
|
||
|
language--it's saying something along the lines of "Put a sporeflower up your chlo!
|
||
|
I'm not eating for your entertainment!" It knows we're watching it."
|
||
|
^ So the human would rather starve than be treated like a lab animal, eh?
|
||
|
Interesting ... very interesting. You're not sure whether this is very very good--
|
||
|
or very very dangerous. "Learn its language immediately!" you snap. "We must
|
||
|
communicate as soon as possible!"
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE5
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Flight of the Razorwings
|
||
|
^ It gives you no particular pleasure to kill. You almost wish you could
|
||
|
communicate directly with the humans, explain to them the necessity of the forced
|
||
|
relocation--explain to them the necessity of their deaths.
|
||
|
^ "Reporting, $TITLE0 $NAME1," resonates the Force Commander of the occupation
|
||
|
army. "Human colonists are fleeing now from the base they call '$BASENAME5.'
|
||
|
Those that chose to remain behind
|
||
|
have been assimilated and reconstituted."
|
||
|
^ It gives you no particular pleasure to kill. But it is the way of
|
||
|
the Human and Progenitor mind. They cannot coexist under one government;
|
||
|
they cannot eat each other's food, nor use each other's facilities.
|
||
|
^ It gives you no particular pleasure to kill. But they are the enemy,
|
||
|
and it is the only way.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE6
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: So Near and So Far
|
||
|
^ With your own hand, you spin the last disc into place on the first of the
|
||
|
Resonance Communicators. It has been a long, difficult trek to get to this point--
|
||
|
to recapture that which was lost. But slowly, like primitives (but accelerated
|
||
|
by tens of thousands of years), you've managed to recreate the discoveries
|
||
|
of your ancestors, and hammer out the materials on this strangely hostile
|
||
|
world, and now the time has come.
|
||
|
^ "You don't look happy, Leader," resonates your assistant. "Isn't this a
|
||
|
great day?"
|
||
|
^ "I suppose so," you alter, feeling at that moment a strange lack of elation.
|
||
|
After a moment's thought you realize why: for all these years you have been
|
||
|
supreme leader of your own world ... your own people. Now it will end, with the
|
||
|
summoning of the home world fleet. Greater leaders than you will come and destroy
|
||
|
what's left of the opposition; they'll come and claim your triumph for their
|
||
|
own. You almost wish it could go on, but you know that your duty is to
|
||
|
$EXPLOITORPRISTINE7, and you must be true to that mission. "I suppose so," you
|
||
|
alter again. "We have triumphed, all of us. It's just a matter of time."
|
||
|
With a sigh, you pick up the spinner and turn away.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE7
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Civil War
|
||
|
^ "Yes, they are here."
|
||
|
^ All assembled in the room expected this news. Yet it sends a ripple of
|
||
|
alteration through the room as though you had announced the death of the
|
||
|
entire Council of Overlords. Secretly, you and everyone else here had been
|
||
|
hoping that the hated Usurpers died upon Planetary entry. Now you know this
|
||
|
is not the case.
|
||
|
^ "This changes nothing!" Smoothly you alter the entire hum of conversation,
|
||
|
to lend emphasis to your meaning. "The plan goes forward as we agreed. The
|
||
|
Usurpers must die, and we must continue our quest to contact the Homeworld,
|
||
|
that Manifold Six may remain pristine. Are we committed unto the death of one or
|
||
|
the other of us?"
|
||
|
^ Many on the council look uncomfortable, their eyes blinking rapidly. You can
|
||
|
understand their feelings--the Caretaker cause is dedicated to peace and the
|
||
|
status quo. This destructive posture is not in keeping with your stated goals.
|
||
|
Finally, Kaala L'mota articulates what the others are obviously thinking.
|
||
|
^ "Can we not try once more to reach an accord with the Usurper leader, Marr?
|
||
|
In such a dire circumstance, even he might see the wisdom of cooperation."
|
||
|
^ "I am sorry, my friends," you alter sharply, expressing your regret and
|
||
|
displeasure at the same time. "Think of the Usurper cause: they wish to gain
|
||
|
Transcendence with Manifold Six. We know what happened at Tau Ceti when the
|
||
|
Flowering was allowed to occur. Destruction. Death."
|
||
|
^ You see the fear on all faces, their mandibles drawn tight to their mouths.
|
||
|
"We all know this--including the Usurper, Marr," you continue. "And yet they
|
||
|
continue on their quest for Transcendence. We cannot understand this. They move
|
||
|
inexorably toward death! We have asked, begged, fought, and died to prevent
|
||
|
this, and still they come. Surely, a small thing such as this shipwreck will
|
||
|
not alter their plan. No, my friends, we must be firm in our resolve. Death,
|
||
|
or freedom for Manifold Six. Do you agree?"
|
||
|
^ Your words are altered, one by one, by each member of the council. They
|
||
|
all assent.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE8
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Civil War
|
||
|
^ "Yes, they are here."
|
||
|
^ All assembled in the room expected this news. Yet it sends a ripple of
|
||
|
alteration through the room as though you had announced a sneak attack
|
||
|
on the home world. You know many of them were convinced the Caretakers
|
||
|
had been destroyed during the space battle. Now it's clear this
|
||
|
is not the case.
|
||
|
^ "This changes nothing!" Smoothly you alter the entire hum of conversation,
|
||
|
to lend emphasis to your meaning. "The plan goes forward as we agreed. The
|
||
|
Caretakers must die, and we must continue our quest to contact the Homeworld,
|
||
|
or to reach the Flowering with ourselves in power over Manifold Six. Are we agreed?"
|
||
|
^ One on the council looks uncomfortable, his eyes blinking rapidly. He stands
|
||
|
and formally alters your words, requesting permission to speak. You shake your
|
||
|
neck at him, and he proceeds.
|
||
|
^ "You know me," he alters. "I am no coward, yet I counsel one last attempt
|
||
|
to reason with the Caretakers and their leader H'minee. We are all Progenitor
|
||
|
together here, trapped on Manifold Six until such time as we can re-implement
|
||
|
our lost technologies. Until then, should we not attempt to live
|
||
|
together under one skin?"
|
||
|
^ Others alter his words in subtle ways, expressing doubt or tolerance for
|
||
|
this idea. You step in quickly.
|
||
|
^ "No, my friends!" you alter roughly. "Remember with whom we are dealing.
|
||
|
H'minee and her followers have seen the incredible power of the Manifolds, and
|
||
|
yet they reject them. They have read the ancient books, and the plans our
|
||
|
ancestors made for the Manifold Experiments. Yet they reject those as well.
|
||
|
They live in fear--and a Progenitor who lives in fear is one that may as well
|
||
|
be dead. Our race has declined since the time of the ancestors, and it is
|
||
|
because of the timidity and fear of the Caretaker faction. We must move forward
|
||
|
boldly, and fulfill the destiny spelled out for us so many thousands of orbits
|
||
|
ago. Do you agree?"
|
||
|
^ Your words are altered, one by one, by each member of the council. They
|
||
|
all assent.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE9
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: The Nexus
|
||
|
^ Imagine six Progenitor in a room. They would alter the resonance of the room,
|
||
|
and alter the alterations, in a smooth and free-flowing conversation. The sheer
|
||
|
complexity of it gives you a pleasant feeling in the brain pan.
|
||
|
^ As you gaze out on the weathered walls of the Manifold Nexus, you get that
|
||
|
same feeling, magnified a million times. You imagine not six Progenitor, but six
|
||
|
Planets--six minds almost godlike in their powers, but almost infantile in their
|
||
|
knowledge of the world, and of Progenitor ways.
|
||
|
^ "Almost like being a nursemaid to a god," you resonate softly. Your assistant,
|
||
|
standing nearby, gives you a quizzical wave of the mandibles. "What did you alter,
|
||
|
Leader?"
|
||
|
^ You flap your neck lightly, cupping the assistant's words, altering them, and
|
||
|
sending them back. "That," you resonate, pointing at the Nexus. "During the First
|
||
|
Era, it was built to be the control center for the Manifold Experiment."
|
||
|
^ Your assistant looks in awe at this relic of the past. "Does it still function?"
|
||
|
^ "Yes." You shake your neck at the report you've just been handed. "It still
|
||
|
works perfectly. Our harmony with Manifold Six is even greater now than it was
|
||
|
before." You look in silence at the temple, then turn away. You've gained a
|
||
|
small measure of power over six gods. You must be careful.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE10
|
||
|
#xs500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: A Change of Plan
|
||
|
^ You can barely believe it. You insisted on joining the search parties sifting
|
||
|
the wreckage of the last $OTHERALIENS6 base, not because you felt your minions
|
||
|
were incompetent, but because you had to see for yourself that the final
|
||
|
victory was at hand.
|
||
|
^ And what glorious wreckage! The dead bodies of $OTHERALIENS6 followers litter
|
||
|
the ground. Destroyed weaponry and the rubble of embattled buildings litter the
|
||
|
streets. Even amid the death and destruction of your distant kinfolk, you feel
|
||
|
an odd sense of elation. The hated enemy is destroyed!
|
||
|
^ "Leader," the force commander alters the sounds of distant explosions coming
|
||
|
to you, for extra emphasis to his words. "This is a great day. What do we do now?"
|
||
|
^ You know that he means 'what steps shall we take at this time,' but his words
|
||
|
do raise a deeper question: what is the fate of your own people, now that their
|
||
|
primary goal is accomplished?
|
||
|
^ "We build," you alter, surprising him. "We build toward the day of summoning
|
||
|
of our allies, or toward ultimate conquest. The fate of Manifold Six is waving
|
||
|
in our hands. We must not falter."
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE11
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Familiar Faces
|
||
|
^ The reports of attacks, and deaths, are quite disturbing.
|
||
|
^ "How can this be?" you alter, turning on the xenobiologist. "None of our
|
||
|
records show such hostility from the native life-forms in the era of the
|
||
|
beginnings of the experiment!"
|
||
|
^ "The current records do not lie, though," she counters. "The mindworms and
|
||
|
spore launchers are definitely out to kill us. In the past..." The hum of the
|
||
|
thought hangs for a while, and you prompt gently. "In the past?"
|
||
|
^ "Yes, leader." The biologist seems very unhappy. "In the past, we were
|
||
|
the gardeners. We were here only to tend, and then to leave. Now we are here
|
||
|
to live. Manifold Six--the whole planet--doesn't like that. It cares not for our politics. It just
|
||
|
doesn't like us being here."
|
||
|
^ "You realize the implications?" you alter, feeling but not showing a touch
|
||
|
of fear. "We are at the mercy of an entire world. It is not intelligent enough to
|
||
|
negotiate with ... it will simply try to kill us."
|
||
|
^ "Yes, leader," the biologist alters.
|
||
|
^ And, truly, there is nothing whatsoever you can do that you are not already doing.
|
||
|
You put the problem from your brain, and stride from the room.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
#INTERLUDE12
|
||
|
#xs 500
|
||
|
#caption Interlude: Tower of Strength
|
||
|
^ You stand at a goodly distance, examining the strange formation through
|
||
|
a resonance-gathering device cobbled together by one of the techs. It's quite
|
||
|
serviceable, and you're able to see the distant object as though it were
|
||
|
just a few feet away.
|
||
|
^ "It looks like a heat rash on the skin of Manifold Six," you say, and those
|
||
|
gathered around you alter your resonance to show humor. "What is it?"
|
||
|
^ The xenobiologist pulls back the flaps of his neck, and alters stiffly:
|
||
|
"We don't know, Leader. There are no reports of these objects in the Manifold
|
||
|
files handed down to us from the original creators. These seem to be something
|
||
|
new."
|
||
|
^ You clack your mandibles like a baby as you lower the gathering device.
|
||
|
"That's bad. Very bad. The presence of the offworlders has caused this, hasn't
|
||
|
it."
|
||
|
^ The biologist shakes his neck again in assent. "Somehow the latent intellect
|
||
|
of Manifold Six has created these ... towers ... in response to irritations
|
||
|
caused by the ecological ravages of the offworlders; and, I hesitate to alter,
|
||
|
our own presence as well. They generate the fungus at an increased rate, and may
|
||
|
be a conduit for mindworm and sporerunner activity. Those tendrils you see--" here
|
||
|
he waves one arm "--have a reach of several hundred yards. It's dangerous to get
|
||
|
too close to the thing."
|
||
|
^ You bug your eyes in a laugh as you alter his words to show humor. "Ho! Then
|
||
|
I was right the first time. It [is] like a giant heat rash!"
|
||
|
^ You only wish it was as funny as it resonated. The fact is, unchecked, these
|
||
|
things would take over the Manifold. Would that bring the Flowering? Or would
|
||
|
it bring instead another destruction, like that of Tau Ceti?
|
||
|
^ "Keep an eye on it," you sigh. "We'll destroy it if we have to."
|
||
|
^ If it doesn't destroy us first, you think--but don't dare to say.
|
||
|
|
||
|
|
||
|
# ; This line must remain at end of file.
|