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ZOOOMS is (probably never going to be) a playable rpg module for one or more players, featuring varied cast of characters, and set in an increasingly absurd disaster.
Dr. Celia Brieson “Cool Breeze”
James Rogue stood in the dimly lit control room of O’Mally Station, his mind racing through the endless list of crises. The asteroid defense lasers were down, leaving the station reliant on kinetic shielding that was slowly failing. Life support was compromised, likely clogged with the detritus of countless zombie encounters. Survivors were desperate for supplies from the medbays, but he was the only one with a Void Rig capable of navigating the hazardous station. Without those supplies, they might not live long enough to succumb to the other threats.
He leaned against a console, his powered suit hissing softly as it compensated for his exhaustion. “Prioritize, dammit,” he muttered to himself, glancing at the flickering displays. “Lasers, life support, supplies… Reactor?” He grimaced, realizing he hadn’t checked on the main reactor in far too long.
A sudden noise snapped him back to the present. The walls echoed with the sound of shuffling feet and guttural groans. The horde was coming. Clad in his Void Rig, James gripped his plasma cutter tighter, preparing for another relentless battle. Originally a precise tool for separating materials, his plasma cutter had been modified to function effectively as a weapon against the undead hordes.
As the first of the mutant zombies stumbled into view, he fired, his shots precise but tinged with desperation. He was losing ground, the sheer number of enemies overwhelming him. Just when he thought he couldn’t hold on any longer, another figure emerged from the shadows.
This newcomer moved with a fluid grace, dressed in simple clothes, wielding only a sword. With movements almost too fast to follow, he cut through the undead with an almost ethereal precision, momentarily halting their advance.
James, panting inside his helmet, stared in disbelief. “Who the hell are you? How can you even breathe? This air is contaminated—”
The being turned, eyes calm and unearthly. “Do not concern yourself with the affairs of passing gods. I am not here for you, nor do I care about this Marker that your kind is so obsessed with. Be thankful that I am benevolent, but I warn you not to test my patience.”
James’s mind raced. He had heard the debates, the reverence and fear surrounding the Marker. Some worshiped it as a divine relic, while others cursed it as the source of the zombie plague. But this being’s indifference was unlike anything he had encountered.
“You are an engineer,” the being continued, his tone unwavering. “A military frigate is on the way and will dock with this station in three hours. They are woefully ignorant of the conditions here. What you do with this information is up to you.”
Without waiting for a reply, the angelic figure disappeared into the maze of corridors. James knew he would never find him again in the labyrinthine station. He stood there, the weight of the new crisis pressing down on him. Three hours. If the military ship docked without being prepared, the soldiers would become infected, resulting in armored zombies and adding to the chaos instead of providing help. He hoped to any gods that might hear that the zombies wouldn’t figure out how to use guns.
With a renewed sense of urgency, he turned back to his work. The fate of the station, and his own survival, hinged on his ability to keep going despite the overwhelming odds. He quickly reassessed his priorities: restore communications to warn the frigate, then stabilize the reactor, address life support, and finally, if there was time, get supplies to the survivors. With luck, there’d be time to sleep before the lasers needed to be brought back online.
As he moved through the corridors, he couldn’t shake the image of the enigmatic being. Who was he? Why was he here? And what did it mean to be a passing god? Questions for another time, he thought, focusing on the immediate tasks at hand. The station’s clock was ticking, and every second counted.
The engineer staggered into the research lab, his Void Rig hissing softly as it adjusted to his labored breathing. The sight that greeted him was both familiar and unsettling. Severed appendages littered the ground, a grim testament to the angel’s unique and efficient method of combat. The carnage was fresh, but the angel was long gone.
He scanned the room, taking in the destruction. Nearly everything was broken, smashed beyond recognition. But the angel had been here for a reason. Wasting a few precious minutes might reveal something crucial.
As he carefully picked his way through the debris, he spotted a single computer terminal that seemed intact. He approached it, fingers hesitating over the keys. With a deep breath, he accessed the terminal. The screen flickered to life, displaying research notes on a theoretical device capable of inter-dimensional travel.
His eyes widened as he read through the notes. The implications were staggering. If such a device existed, it could offer a way out of this nightmare. Or it could bring even greater horrors. The notes mentioned a semi-functional prototype, but there was no indication of its current status or the fate of its inventor.
He glanced around the lab, hoping for a clue. But the chaos offered no answers. The angel’s motives remained as enigmatic as ever. Why had he been here? What had he been looking for? And more importantly, had he found it?
The engineer’s mind raced. He was running out of time. The military frigate would arrive soon, and he still needed to restore communications to warn them. Yet the potential of the inter-dimensional device was too significant to ignore. It could change everything.
Making a snap decision, he copied the research notes onto his suit’s data drive. If he survived the impending crises, he would delve deeper into this mystery. For now, he had to prioritize.
With a last, lingering glance at the ruined lab, he turned and headed back into the corridor. The station’s clock was ticking, and there were still countless tasks demanding his attention. But the knowledge of the device lingered in his mind, a tantalizing hint of possibilities yet to come.
Comms were fixed. James had managed to send a detailed message to the incoming military frigate, explaining the dire situation on O’Mally Station. The response was disheartening: they ignored the message entirely. While waiting for their arrival, James also dealt with the reactor, stabilizing it just in time.
The frigate arrived with a violent docking maneuver that shook the entire station. An entire platoon of soldiers fanned out across the station, attempting to suppress the undead infestation. They failed miserably, just as James had feared, and now the station was plagued by armored zombies.
With the immediate crises momentarily at bay, James took some time to explore the frigate. It could hold useful supplies and, better yet, serve as a means of escape if he could get the other survivors to it. However, the frigate’s life support systems would need fixing; otherwise, they wouldn’t make it far.
James activated his comms. “Big Time to Nature Boy, come in Nature Boy, you read me?”
A crackle of static was followed by a familiar voice. “This is Nature Boy, what have you got for me, Big Time?”
“I found a Void Rig on the frigate, and it looks to be your size. I could use the help out here.”
“You know I only really know how to shoot a gun, right? I don’t fix things.”
“You can watch my back.”
“Yeah, I can do that. Bring it to me.”
James secured the Void Rig and began the trek back to the survivors’ hideout. The corridors were eerily silent, the aftermath of the soldiers’ futile attempt to control the infestation. He moved swiftly, knowing that every moment counted.
Arriving at the hideout, he found Nature Boy waiting, a grim look on his face. James handed him the Void Rig. “Suit up. We’ve got a lot to do.”
Nature Boy nodded, quickly donning the suit. “What’s the plan?”
“First, we fix the station’s life support. Then we gather the survivors and get them aboard the frigate. We’re leaving this place.”
Nature Boy adjusted the suit’s controls, a determined glint in his eyes. “Lead the way, Big Time.”
Together, they made their way. The station’s ticking clock echoed in James’s mind, each second bringing them closer to potential salvation or doom. But with Nature Boy watching his back, he felt a renewed sense of hope. They could do this. They had to.
James Rogue adjusted the settings on his Void Rig as he and Marcus Greenwood, now fully suited in the newly found rig, made their way through the dimly lit corridors of O’Mally Station. The eerie silence was occasionally broken by distant groans and the unsettling clanking of metal against metal.
“We need to secure the medbay first,” James said, his voice steady but urgent through the comms. “The survivors need those supplies.”
Marcus nodded, his helmet reflecting the faint emergency lights. “Got it. I’ll cover you.”
They moved with purpose, James leading the way with his plasma cutter ready, and Marcus scanning their flanks with a military-issue rifle. The route to the medbay was perilous, but their combined skills made them an effective team.
As they approached a junction, Marcus held up a hand, signaling James to stop. “Hold up. I hear something,” he whispered.
They both listened intently. The faint sound of shuffling feet and low growls grew louder. James peeked around the corner and saw a group of undead soldiers, their armor now a twisted parody of its original form.
“Armored zombies. Great,” James muttered. “We need to take them out quietly.”
Marcus grinned. “Leave that to me.”
He moved silently, his military training evident in every step. Using his rifle’s silencer, he picked off the zombies one by one with precise headshots. James watched, impressed by his partner’s skill.
“All clear,” Marcus whispered.
They continued towards the medbay, encountering more pockets of resistance but handling each one with increasing coordination. When they finally reached the medbay, they found it barricaded from the inside.
“Survivors must be in there,” James said, knocking on the door. “It’s Big Time and Nature Boy. We’re here to help.”
After a tense moment, the door creaked open, revealing a group of haggard but relieved faces. They quickly ushered James and Marcus inside, closing the door behind them.
“We’ve been holding out here, but supplies are running low,” one of the survivors said, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“We’ve got you covered,” Marcus replied, motioning to the supplies they had gathered from the frigate. “But we need to fix the station’s life support if we want to get out of here.”
James nodded. “We also need to keep this place secure while we work. Marcus and I will handle the repairs. The rest of you, fortify this area and prepare for extraction.”
As James and Marcus set to work on their respective tasks, a sense of hope began to permeate the group. Despite the dire circumstances, they had a plan and the means to execute it.
Working side by side, James felt a newfound respect for Marcus. His calm demeanor and tactical expertise complemented James’ technical skills perfectly. Together, they were more than capable of facing the challenges ahead.
The station was lost. There was no hope of saving it. James Rogue stood in the central corridor of O’Mally Station, his Void Rig powered down but ready for action. The grim reality had set in: they needed to abandon the station if they wanted to survive.
He activated his comms, broadcasting a message to all remaining survivors. “This is James Rogue. The station is beyond saving. The frigate that arrived recently is our salvation. Anyone who can make the journey is welcome to come. We will be departing O’Mally Station soon. Anyone not on board will be left behind.”
Marcus Greenwood, standing beside him, nodded. “I’ll round up the survivors and get them moving.”
James watched as Marcus moved swiftly, his calm authority reassuring the frightened and weary survivors. James turned his attention to the remaining preparations. The frigate’s life support was stable, and they had enough supplies to last until they reached a safer location.
“Big Time, we’re almost ready,” Marcus said, returning with a group of survivors in tow. “Everyone’s accounted for.”
“Good,” James replied, his eyes scanning the faces of those who had endured so much. “Let’s get them to the frigate.”
They led the group through the station’s deteriorating corridors. The once-bustling halls were now filled with debris and the remnants of their desperate fight for survival. As they approached the docking bay, the distant sounds of the undead grew louder, reminding them of the urgency of their mission.
James and Marcus took up positions at the front and rear of the group, ensuring no one was left behind or fell victim to the relentless horde. The frigate loomed ahead, its docking bay doors open and welcoming.
“Move quickly but stay together,” James instructed, his plasma cutter ready in case they encountered any more threats.
One by one, the survivors boarded the frigate, relief evident on their faces. James and Marcus were the last to enter, sealing the docking bay doors behind them. They could hear the undead pounding on the other side, but for now, they were safe.
James headed to the bridge, where he activated the frigate’s engines. The ship hummed to life, and he guided it away from O’Mally Station. As they moved into the blackness of space, the station became a distant, fading memory.
“Is everyone okay?” Marcus asked, checking on the survivors.
“We’re all here, thanks to you two,” one of the survivors replied, gratitude in their voice.
James looked at Marcus, a sense of accomplishment mixed with sorrow in his eyes. “We did it. We got them out.”
Marcus nodded. “Yeah, but we lost a lot. Let’s make sure their sacrifices weren’t in vain.”
James set the frigate on course for the nearest safe harbor, determined to find a new beginning for those who had survived. As the stars stretched out before them, he knew they had a long journey ahead, but at least they had a chance.