"Ug-Skull, Grim'un"
WARNING
THE FOLLOWING DATA LOGS HAVE BEEN SECURED FROM THE ONGOING URSUS MILITARY OPERATION IN TRIMOUNTS COLUMBIA
THE TSAR HAS GIVEN HIS FULL AUTHORIZATION FOR DATA COLLECTION
COLUMBIAN UNION WANTS THE TRIMOUNTS DATA COLLECTION CENSORED UNDER THE PUNISHMENT OF TERMINATION
ERRONEOUS POSITION
FURTHER STUDY FOR THE CURRENT EVENTS IS REQUIRED
ADDITIONAL INFORMATION IN REGARDS TO THE OPERATION MUST BE UPDATED IN THESE LOGS
PLAYBACK LOGS
GENERAL INVESTIGATION DATABASE RECEIVED
VISUAL REPORTS
INVESTIGATION REPORTS
NEWSFEED
AUDIO LOGS
STATE APPARATUSES RECORDS
CONFIRMED
REPLAY AUDIO LOGS
(That's a big yawn. Didn't sleep well?)
(This just in, Trimountians. An explosion occurred this morning at the Triton Chemical Plant No. 3 in District 13)
(Rise and shine Doctor, ya big dumbass! Rise and shine!)
(Long time no see, Doctor)
(From here on, course on behalf of Rhodes Island duty to assist the Emperor, I will be accompanying you)
(And me! And also...)
(Explain)
(Don't be mad, Doctor.)
(I asked Dr. Kal'tsit to bring me along. I was... invited by someone)
(Something fell from the sky)
(There's also...)
(Hence, why I'm here with Patriot)
(I'll let them know)
(Our cause is just—victory will be ours)
(...)
(I just determined that I might need to apply full force to whatever is coming next)
(Saria, are you interested in politics?)
(Decidedly not)
(So do I really need to answer that question?)
(Deployment successful Tsar)
(Any possibility it might've been destroyed, given an explosion of that scope...?)
(She may have already obtained the experimental data she wanted in the black box, but she still doesn't want us to find her)
(...)
(The longer the delay, the more variables there will be)
(I know)
(Operations running smooth...)
(A substantial secret that even I'm not aware of)
(She abhors the sky Tin Man)
(Let them face me)
(Will I really find any leads on the Transmitter here?)
(This has something to do with Rhine Lab?)
(That's why you snuck in here?)
(There are... some things I need to make sure of)
(This isn't exactly the best place for chit-chat)
(Core Artillery, away...)
(I just wanted to tell you I have no regrets. So even now, I won't do anything that would truly harm Columbia)
(Are you still mourning the death of the Wrights?)
(As much as I'd like to deny it, the scene still haunts my dreams even now)
(Waypoint received)
(Don't pass up on this rare opportunity to get some fresh air. If you're afraid of the dark, I don't mind keeping you company partway)
(Ugh. I should go pick her up)
(At last, the muddled dream is about to settle)
(...)
(Tonight, nobody sleeps)
(...)
(The end of all things...)
ALERT
ALERT
DATA TAMPERED
[-*@[@(=AA667/89]NCK6/5
DATA LOGS
6/A%7/3#;/6/RF2FF1N@
MINOR CORRUPTION
AUDIO INCOMPLETE
TEXT
*#9$393DUDJ[0*96#0
DISMANTLED
ENFORCING COMPARTMENTALIZATON
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77_5=@UC68,'RD/89/00$#!WF
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PURGING
'YUG:%R5?:$#7,JHE=#
CURRENT OPERATION STATUSES
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CANNOT CONFIRM
CANNOT CONFIRM
CANNOT CONFIRM
CANNOT CONFIRM
CANNOT CONFIRM
90YAJ0#[0$9!CANNOT CONFIRM
;S#892YYH0[289020
RHODES ISLAND
-*-?#90*890
RHINE LAB
289#99IIIQJ
OPERATOR STATUSES
*'J829U%Y%!;AKKUH_Y
URSUS EMPIRE
PATRIOT
STATUS
U8HF%/#:56GSRI%%$*00FM
OPERATIONAL
CURRENTLY DIRECTING GROUND FORCES
RHODES ISLAND
KAL'TSIT
STATUS
CC=6;%78;@8RGI9/6%!A1
OPERATIONAL
CURRENTLY ASSISTING GROUND FORCES
%_78Y78U!@8IU8%A))/
WARNING
-}@((#[%[AKS9~ItHH166YH
RHINE LAB
SARIA
STATUS
HG78_647BG67$IO
MISSING IN ACTION
REPORT MISSING PERSONNEL TO HIGH COMMAND
Z*#[JBDW[I299EJ9/#SK@(
RHINE LAB
SILENCE
STATUS
HG00W(![IG2,@[SL0
MISSING IN ACTION
REPORT MISSING PERSONNEL TO HIGH COMMAND
OQ00*;800[U$#!*(19!*@?1-$_A
RHINE LAB
MUELSYSE
STATUS
HG]?99YQ[0K$$WN
MISSING IN ACTION
REPORT MISSING PERSONNEL TO HIGH COMMAND
199[#IJA%I929-NV66_
RHINE LAB
IFRIT
STATUS
HG76G@@9JIAIT!(#
MISSING IN ACTION
REPORT MISSING PERSONNEL TO HIGH COMMAND
9IIQJANI89*QQP62-1,@*0
RHODES ISLAND
ROSMONTIS
STATUS
HG]@*7HQ#SN]J
MISSING IN ACTION
REPORT MISSING PERSONNEL TO HIGH COMMAND
...
URSUS EMPIRE
DOCTOR
STATUS
HG$;4L2INE31((%
MISSING IN ACTION
ALERT
THE TSAR IS MISSING IN ACTION
20[$#8S9G80TdALP75"=75FIO5
ALERT
ALERT
ALERT
...
UPDATE SUCCESSFUL
RECONFIGURING COGITATOR MAINFRAME
ERRORS EXPUNGED
NOOSPHERE LINK
...
IN PROGRESS
OPERATIONAL CAPABILITIES USABLE
...
WARNING
IMPERIAL WARP DRIVE
STATUS
IN MOTION
UNSANCTIFIED MODIFICATIONS DETECTED
CONFIRMED
XENOS TECHNOLOGY
LOCAL HUMAN POPULACE
...
HOLY TERRA
...
ALERT
WARP ENGINE
...
...
...
AUDIO LOG RECEIVED
FEEDBACK LOOP REMOVED
LINGERING SCRAPCODE PURGED
PRAYERS INITIATED
...
(Omnissiah save you all...)
...
LOG ENDED
"Right den... Let ol' Unkle Nailbrain checks ya, Dok."
The diminutive Ork Mek turned on the lights of his shoddy engineering shop. A hovel for any Mekboy to tinker around his bits and gubbinz that he has laying around. He then stood in front of an operating table now, a workbench for a suit of "modified" Ork style Imperial Carapace armor laying on top fit only for a human, sadly enough. Rubbing his large jaw, Mr. Nailbrain pressed a button hanging on the ceiling from a loose wire as differing worky bitz went to town on the armour.
One mechanical arm lifted the skull themed helmet for a blowtorch to seal any open hatches as he grabbed an impact driver to seal some more patches on the Orkified armor with the blowtorch arm finishing on the chest and visor. The Ork snatched a smaller blowtorch to seal up an open shinguard, after which he inserted a sparky bit on the side of the cuirass before he brought down a larger contraption from the ceiling. It was a jumbled mess of sparking pylons with bright glass bulbs, reflective discs and protrusions and exposed wiring. Mr. Nailbrain activated the volatile machine, projecting its powerful energy currents all over the armour, illuminating it in a golden crackling force field. Putting it back to the ceiling, more blowtorch mechanical arms appeared to seal more openings as he returned to his impact driver to fortify the side of his body armor and his boots. Mr. Nailbrain scratched his head, the one that hasn't been replaced with a metal skullcap, bringing the contraption down again but solely for his helmet while the mechanical arms continued to burn off the imperfections on his armor and a mechanical driver finished off the remaining screws.
"Hrrmmgghhh..." The Mek grunted. A single blowtorch arm scorched a thin line through whole middle section of the armor and another arm with a claw like drill twisted a part of the chest piece shut before he finished it off with one more quick blast from his contraption all over the body on top of a mad, maniacal laughter. Before he shuts his Mekshop down.
"Hehe...! Dere's gonna be a big fight after ya wakez up 'umie. And youz betta be Proppa Killy, or we'z all be ded by dat Vox sodda!"
The shop shuts down.
And Mr. Nailbrain decides to make a call.
"Status reporta Kaptin! Da 'umie's armor n' gubbinz is all set for krumpin dem Dreadzone gitz!"
...
"Wuh?! Saria?! Where's da Kaptin?!"
...
"Out smashin' dem unruly Boyz 'eads in huh...? Yeah, sounds about right."
...
"Yeah, yeah. Just tell da Kaptin about me status reportin'. And sure, youz can meet your mate, hez still out cold, just so ya know."
'Does he have to say it like that...?'
The Vouivre scientist grumbled in her thoughts as she was quick to stiffen the pink tint on her cheeks.
'But then again, given these Orks call themselves Freebooters, some pirate analogy will exist among them. Even if it's crass.'
"Still. I request to see him before we continue his medical checkups, and if I see Kaptin Bluddflagg, I'll be sure to let him know your report."
...
"Nothing of the sort!" Came a flustered retort.
She can the "hur-hur" over the line.
*sigh* "Forget it... I'll talk to you soon, report to me, Silence or Muelsyse if there's any sudden changes in Doctor's condition."
Saria pressed the side of her headset to end the call. Leaning back on her seat attached with a keyboard, the scientist popped her neck in an effort to get rid of the additional stress placed on her. Six days passed since she and a handful of others were sent here immediately during Doctor's well coordinated operation, Little Saturn on Trimounts. The last thing she recollected was a blaring sound. A warning about a faulty teleportation system, whose technology to create such a device is a relic lost beyond understanding or recovery, then suddenly a flash.
They are now held captives in this intergalactic underground sector of Dreadzone. In this lawless region of space far from home, Dreadzone acts as the main source for illegal gladiatorial combat sports with its head, Gleemon Vox, choosing who should be the up and coming stars in their blood sport. Typically, the most obvious choice would be someone like Saria to be in these life-threatening events, but Vox decided that Doctor should be the new contestant.
The Dreadzone owner has given them an ample amount of time to fix him up after he was found wounded and unconscious. With the help of a group of aliens known only as the Orks, both the Rhine Lab trained science along with medical knowhow to treat Doctor and the Orks'... technology, if such a term could be considered acceptable, to accommodate his combat utilities for the battles ahead.
All their hopes lie on him.
Saria chuckled.
"He would've accepted it regardless..."
Standing from the hangar of their quarters on Dreadzone station, she looked up again at the glass protecting her.
To the stars shining bright on an empty black canvas.
"..."
ALERT
ACQUISITION OF UPDATED LOGS
CONFIRMED
PLAYBACK LOGS
VERSION 1.1C
SO YOU WANT TO BE ON DREADZONE?
CAN YOU WIELD A BLASTER?
DON'T WORRY
WE'LL GIVE YOU PLENTY OF AMMO
AND WE'LL TELL THOSE BIG NASTY EXTERMINATORS
TO GO EASY ON YOU
HAVE FUN!
EX8\7££IY!)!)*UIYTI99/r_u=r
VERSION 2.9653C
WELCOME TO DREADZONE, CONTESTANT
WE'LL MAKE SURE YOUR WEAPONS ARE HITTING HARD
AND HAVE PLENTY OF AMMO
BUT DON'T EXPECT ANY FAVORS
OUR EXTERMINATORS PLAY FOR KEEPS
EX09U_89!!4U8HI5=89*
VERSION 3.0027833G
YOU'RE ONE OF DREADZONE'S FINEST GLADIATORS
YOU DON'T KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD
CAPITULATION
WELL
DREADZONE IS GOING TO MAKE YOU WISH YOU STAYED IN SCHOOL
THE WARRIORS YOU'LL BE FACING
WOULD TURN AN AVERAGE CONTESTANT
INTO BLARGIAN FUNGUS-TOAST
YOU'LL NEED CUNNING STRATEGY
AND LIGHTNING REFLEXES
TO SURVIVE
EX(!(,I%Y2YT=HIQ919133JS
VERSION 4.019228390726H
BAD GUYS SHAKE AT THE SOUND OF YOUR NAME
AND KIDS WALLPAPER THEIR ROOMS WITH YOUR FACE
WELCOME TO THE BIG TIME!
YOU'LL BE UP AGAINST THE
MEANEST
DEADLIEST
DREADZONE COMBATANTS WE'VE GOT
AND THEY'LL ALL HAVE CARBONOX ARMOR
YOU'RE NOT AFRAID
ARE YOU, HERO?
EXI4D4P7110RH!*DIE)!)@;H9]!0
VERISION 5E
DREADZONE FANS WANT TO SEE CARNAGE
AND WE'RE GONNA GIVE IT TO THEM BY THE TRUCKLOAD
YOU HAVE NO CHANCE OF SURVIVAL
NO HOPE OF MERCY
AND NO DENTAL PLAN
QU@W88,I',NS)J2*32S
IT IS FLAT OUT IMPOSSIBLE
TURN BACK NOW
ESTABLISHING FINAL UPDATED LOG
(If, in a century or a millenium, our descendants walk among the stars, the masses will sing her praises.)
...
(Yet...)
...
(There is one)
...
(Who has achieved such victories)
...
(And more)
...
(Only one)
...
(Only Him)
...
(Praise be unto Him)
AN: So, I'm excited to get this written down. A little late on the beginnings of Lone Trail but I'm happy I wrote this down.
If there's any mistakes or questions, feel free to let me know.
Thank you for reading