Posts by [GR]_Fallen_Angel

oh, I have more.... =P I was originally working with team toxic(which changed to Grim Reaper hence the [GR...) on their strar trek mod, then I made some planes for Argh´s Warriors of the sky mod, I shot a few over to Orillion.net´s mod, but all have fizzled away =( this guy is my crowning achivement so far... <A href=´http://img10.imageshack.us/my.php?image=dragon7fb.jpg´ Target=_Blank><img src=´http://img10.imageshack.us/img10/1598/dragon7fb.th.jpg ´></a> my biggest problem is I havnt taught myself how to skin yet... =P

and because I am avoiding my homework... the Demon superiority fighter <A href=´http://img259.imageshack.us/my.php?image=tgldemoncopy3nx.jpg´ Target=_Blank><img src=´http://img259.imageshack.us/im…85/tgldemoncopy3nx.th.jpg ´></a> we can use it, of just say its a pretty picture... I dont mind =P

thought this would make it easier for everyone.... a rough sketch.... <A href=´http://img123.imageshack.us/my.php?image=carrier8zw.jpg´ Target=_Blank><img src=´http://img123.imageshack.us/img123/2069/carrier8zw.th.jpg ´></a> the holes are all hangers, the yellow parts are the engines and other incorporated nomad/TGL technology. I would have made the yellow more intricate, but you get the idea, If you´ve ever seen the Star trek: Voyager episodes where the borg assimilate Voyager and it is covered with borg technology its kinda like that.... it would have turrets but only defensive ones for anti-fighter (think flak cannons) Edited by - [GR_Fallen_Angel on 8/25/2005 3:43:37 PM

lets keep things easy and leave Athena´s post... then we can all move on. I´ll cook a carrier up on gmax and shoot a pic over to you... =D sorry for all my whining, hope it wasnt too agrivating...

there is a big difference between a straifing run by a few fighters and launching missles/ bombs from a ship, which must go through an atmosphere fall, accurately through the atmosphere and impact that accurately. with most guns in FL being some sort of matter, they would suffer the same effect, lasers, depending on their nature and that of the atmosphere could be defracted/refelcted ect... needless to say the orbital would be a lot more work and not be this kind of a surgical strike... or is my physics flawed... also the TGL dont have any technology that doesnt exist in sirius, they just have put together the best of nomad and sirian tech to have the best technology they possibly could... basicly if you havnt seen it, they dont have it. is that clearer?

ok well the first one shouldnt take any editing. If I remember correctly T &amp; R didnt see anything just heard the bombs land. Id say fighters sweapt over and bombed, orbital bombardment doesnt really seem like the TGL... theyre a small group and the logistics of it dont really work with their history... secondly the ship. If they have a capital ship Id say it is a battleship, a cruiser would be too small. and it looks like an amagamation of all the different house´s technology as well as the nomads, taking the best from each. how they´ve kept it unnoticed for all this time and how they will as they protect all the artifacts in sirius, I leave that up to you, its your creation. thirdly the nodes... one way or another Gabe doesnt have one. Sirians are far too xenophobic as it is, the TGL cant afford something so obvious that seperated them form the normal. if anything make it hideable, something on their back or something. a bulge on the back of your neck draws attention, and attention is the TGL´s worst enemy, running from the nomads, fighting the covenant, the order would be very very weary in believeing and befriending them. does that make any sense? maybe the reasoning is that some people get it as a reaction to the implant, of those with it have ones with larger brains or something so that the agent out in the field dont have such an obvious thing that could be so easily targeted by their opponents... is that logical? or am I just wierd?

Ok, well.... MY outline of the TGL in my Bio said their main base is on gammu... the robots are a Facade to keep visitors of the TGL´s back and make an excuse for human travel around the system. the TGL´s base is littered throughout the planet with hangers and other facilities littered around the place camoflaged in with the rocky scenery. the bombing could have been done by fighters in the atmosphere droping boms or even just mines with the traking computer replaced with extra explosives crating a &quot;dumb&quot; bomb that would just fall due to gravity. with a cruiser there are many problems, first if it carried ships it couldnt carry anything else of any substance due to it´s small size. look at the cruisers of all the houses and their sizes (granted they would be much bigger in real life) the ship would have to be a battleship to ruely serve as a moble base, as a cruiser it would be too weak. if it could carry all their ships it would lack all the equipment and living quarters for the people on board if they wanted the cruiser to have any defenses and an engine. also for the TGL to remain hidden they would not only have to destroy the ground forces but any covenant/nomad ships in the space above before they could return to gammu. this would cause a massive retaliation and search from the Covenant (I´d imagine) and the TGL wouldnt last in the system unless thy were extremely well hidden. with that in mind perhaps they do have a battleship that was, until now, hidden away one gammu somewhere and has now had to deploy so they can guard the artifact or move to a new system. with the node, perhaps it is a sign of a recent implantation? something that disappears with time as the two beings merge, and when the host is dieing the node reappears so it can be harvested and implanted into a new host... anyway that ends my somewhat coherant rant, sorry if I went and made things difficult, just my ideas, I realize I did disappear and you all had to make decisions without me, so feel free to leave it if you want, but I think some things are still a little hazy....

I never did.... =D did I?

I think you´re talking about a plug. Dont worry about the language gap, your english is fantastic, much better than my spanish... Most of us here have been speaking english our whole lives so it should come a little easier I hope. the easiest way to make your writting flow easier would be to reread it, looking for sentences where you repeat facts from the sentence before or anywhere the story doesnt flow well. these are the places you need to change. feel free to send you updates to me and I can proof read them if you want, Im sure there are others here who would be happy to do the same. Keep up the good work, nice to have a new face, not to mention I´m not the new kid anymore =D on a different note, Athena I would like to chat with you about these nodes on the back of the TGL people. what is it? Gabe doesnt have one (for one it would ruin his cover) and I´d appreciate it if you explained this further, no nomad host had this... also, I had a conversation with code about TGL stuff, and I saw them as more of a hidden group. I didnt see them using capital ships simply because those were too hard to hide. the system itself is swarming with nomads to a degree (in the game at least) wouldnt they find them? and the minefield isnt TGL placed is is by the nomads.... maybe I´m reading it wrong but facts seem to be getting mixed and crossed... I´ll begin my next update once DSQ gets his up (I think he was typing one...) toodles

good first post, just one thing <font size=1 face="trebuchet ms"><BLOCKQUOTE><hr size=1 noshade> When that was done he pulled out the wire from the socket that connected him with the computer. He pulled it out from the socket on his arm and closed the lid to dust and other small things from gathering in the ´armsocket´, and put the wire in his pocket. <hr size=1 noshade></BLOCKQUOTE></font><font face=´trebuchet ms, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica´ size=2> that doesnt read very well, it took me a few read throughs to understand what you were trying to say. maybe something like this: &quot;When that was done he pulled out the wire from the socket in his arm that connected him with the computer. he closed the lid to prevend dust and other things collecting in the ´armsocket´ and put the wire in his pocket&quot; just a thought

well Kids Im back, quite an excelent adventure I must say climbing volcanoes, flying through rainforest canopies on a zip-line, riding a horse (quite an Interesting experiance, let me tell ya..., going to see many waterfalls, beautiful beach... I´ll shut up now, needless to say, sad It is all over. Konn, DSQ, or Wilde shoot me an email about plans on what our group is doing next. good updates all =D and Nicolai thinks gabe is attractive huh? must admit, that did make me chuckle =P

Well everyone I have no Idea where the time went, but Im off to Costa Rica for ten days... which means no contact with a computer... feel free to write gabe into whatever if you want, I dont want to delay anything with my absence. Konn, DSQ, feel free to decide what they find in Omega Five If you want to continue it... Talk to you guys in a few...

Ok so this, in my opinion, is the worst chapter I think I have ever posted... poorly written and thought out... I should change it, but I don´t know what I´d replace it with so Its going in so I can move on...... Chapter 7 It was weeks before Dylan could walk again. Left for dead by most on the station, the one doctor who had aided him originally brought him food every so often, but soon she forgot about him as well. He spent most of his time sitting in the dark, cold and extraordinarily hungry. After being interrogated by the Colonel Dylan had been moved to a slightly less hospitable environment in the deep forgotten sections of the station. Mechanics coming to fix the power plant or other faulty systems were his most common visitors, often slipping him some bread or anything else left over from their lunch. Left down there in an alcove, it didn’t matter there wasn’t a door between him and hallways to the vital systems. He had been taken straight from the infirmary to here, casts and all, and now, even though he had healed he still couldn’t move, left in his own filth. He had tried walking once, and only once, failing miserably. Without being able to bend his knees and having limited mobility in his hips, Dylan looked more like a penguin than a man when he tried to walk. Soon after he started he lost his balance and plummeted to the floor with out being able to prevent it. His arms were still in casts attached to his torso, holding his arms straight out. He couldn’t bend his elbows to absorb the fall and as a result most of the force went to his shoulders. Dylan’s screams of pain echoed throughout the chasms of the station. His only reply was the quiet reverberation of his own anguish. Finally a man came down to work on some plumbing. He was an old and getting past his prime, his eyes sank, and his beard covered the rest of his sad face. It was obvious he had seen a lot, and Dylan was sure most of it wasn’t pleasant. The man was small, not short, just small. His arms hung limply by his sides when he wasn’t doing anything, anything more would be exerting too much effort. Everything about him looked worn out, his jumpsuit, his toolbox, his body; it all looked over worked and over used. His skin was surprisingly dark, and he was dirty. If it wasn’t for Dylan’s current condition, he may have pitied this man. Dylan didn’t know how long he had been in this dungeon, but he knew it had been a while. The man had large bolt cutters with him and after hearing Dylan’s story was kind enough to cut him out of the casts, now black with filth. When they came off Dylan found his legs and arms debilitated and boiled. Weeks, maybe even months in the casts had caused his muscles to deteriorate, and his limbs were covered in infected boils, purple and black, oozing with a foul liquid. His body had consumed all fat and most of the unused muscle on his body, and he could barely move his limbs by the time the plumber had found him. His face sagged and his facial hair was patchy at best, his body lacking the nutrition to grow anything more. “How in hell have you survived in this place?” the plumber asked after he got the delirious man out of his casts. “I’m, uhh, I got mem’ries, good mem’ries, mem’ries of b… better times.” Dylan replied, struggling to speak, his eyes glazed. “Damn kid, it’s a damn shame you got tied up in all this. You seem like a nice kid who got dealt a bad hand, a really bad hand. Look, I’m gunna see if I can get you some more food down here and maybe some medical stuff to dress those boils. Maybe, just maybe I’ll be able to get you out of this place and you can attempt to go back to your life.” “Why are you doing this for me?” the dying man managed to get out, softly. “Because it’s something I can do, something that has some meaning.” The man paused; he was getting emotional. “I know stuff happens here the most of us don’t hear about. While the cause is good, some of the methods employed are anything but. This is my chance to right a wrong. A guy like me doesn’t get those opportunities much. You’re young; you have the potential to do great things. Look at me I’m old, worn out and just about used up. Soon I’ll be no use to anyone. All I can remember doing is fixing crap in some sh*t hole no one else wants to go into. You deserve better than this, anyone deserves better. ” With that the man left. It felt like days before the man returned. With no concept of time, no windows, no clocks, hours felt like days, days like months. Dylan was so bored, so hungry, so lonely, so cold, and even colder now he didn’t have the casts as insulation. The plumber brought food and clothing for Dylan. Even though they were old, the clothes were clean, and they were a godsend after the tattered rags Dylan had been wearing for however long it had been. The food was good too. Dylan felt a surge of strength just looking at it, and he began to tear through it like an animal before the kind man warned him not to eat so fast. The shock on his body could do more damage than good. His mouth salivated as he smelt the sweet aromas and tasted the food, such a feast. In reality it wasn’t much. The food was far from sweet. It was comprised of mostly hard bread softened in questionable water and synthe paste that was starting to go stale. Synthe paste was never supposed to go stale. Perhaps it was Dylan’s delirium, but this would turn out to be the best meal Dylan would ever eat. When he finished he smiled. The food was good. This ritual continued for a week and Dylan gain strength quickly. Finally something changed. “I’m going to check and see if any transports are leaving soon, maybe I can help sneak you onto a train or something” the old man mentioned to Dylan. “Are you sure you don’t want to come too?” “Kid I’ll only slow you down, and anyway, if I go missing they’ll just come after you again.” “Thank you sir, I wish I had some way to repay your kindness.” “You can kid, do something great. Don’t do a half-assed job at anything, be proud of what you do and don’t end up like me.” There was an awkward pause. “Enough of this sentimental crap” the old man said loudly as he got up. “Have to get you out of here first don’t I? I’m going to check the Transport logs tonight, hopefully there’s something, do you care where you end up?” “Just somewhere with solid ground and breathable air”

code, Dont know if you took this into account or not but the Ta´Gue´Led are just a stone throws away..... very nice update by the way, but im confused, the end of the chapter was a little vague, are they inside the building or not, because at first it seemed like they ran out becuase they started shooting at the group of apes again, but then it seemed like they were stuck inside. Maybe I have to just reread it

youre ideas are very good. but you could elaborate SO MUCH MORE. It seems very fractured, and is hard to follow. Add more detail dont be afraid there is too much, there is never too much (well most of the time) chances are if you dont think there is enough, there isnt. The books that make you picture the scene, the ones that make you lost in the vivid world they creat do that through detail and elaboration. this story is like seeing the story on an old television, it just needs that little bit moreto make it crystal clear

I just dont want to make this huge decision on my own accord. As a reletive newcommer I dont want to force either of them into a timeline they done want to be part of. As they are the vetrans of the game, I would prefer they took the next step and we can all go from there... oh, and by the way by next step I mean If and how Gabriel Konn and Nick meet up and form a team or whatever the case may be. Also I havnt seen enough of Nick to get a true reading of him, and I dont want to alter any character development DSQ may have planned...

yeah, DSQ, Konn, I think I have to wait for your next post, one of you, before I can do anything. I´mgone for 10 days this time next week, and then shortly after I´m back to school...

http://www.thesaurus.com can be a writter´s best friend.... =D

ok well here it is, just as a warning there is some language in here, but it is needed for character deffinition, not to mention the stiuations wouldnt have the same effect without it... chaper six ------- Colonel Jonathan McDaniels strode down the dark steel corridor briskly. The man who knew of the Duke’s involvement in arming his troops had finally been caught. Now his plan would be able to go along unhindered, once this variable was dealt with. He walked into the room and nodded to the guards standing behind the captive. They saluted. “He hasn’t moved for hours sir, not after the brief time he woke before screaming and falling unconscious again.” “Thank you sergeant,” the colonel replied as he switched on the interrogation light. When the man didn’t stir he picked up a bucket of water in the corner and threw it over the captive. “Wake up you piece of sh*t” he shouted. The man stirred and looked u into the light before turning away in agony. “If he wont willingly look at the light force him too” the colonel snarled at one of the guards who forced the man’s head up and lashed it to the chair. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions Mr. West, and I expect you to answer them.” The man just sat there, dazed. The colonel walked over to the prisoner and looked down at his face. “I don’t think this man is in any condition to be interrogated sir,” the sergeant informed him. “Quiet! I will be the one who decided that!” McDaniels yelled, punching the man in the stomach. The man convulsed like he was going to throw up. Suddenly the man opened his eyes, a smirk on his face. “There, see he…” the colonel stopped as the man slumped limply. He was unconscious again. His nose flared, the interrogator was obviously frustrated, “take him to the infirmary, make sure he survives. Idiot mercenaries can’t understand simple commands.” He walked out of the room A BAF defector; Jonathon McDaniels left his post to become part of the Black Sunday Crime Syndicate, the most powerful and secretive criminal organization in Bretonia. They controlled all molly activity and a surprising amount of corsair and outcast activity in this part of the sector, as well as a variety of other smaller criminal organizations. Colonel McDaniels was infamous in BAF hierarchy, as he managed to commandeer his ship, the HMS Furious along with her escort and vanish with out a trace. No one knows what happened to his crew, whether they were all so loyal that they went with him, or whether they were all murdered. He had an impressive record as an officer, Second in his class at the academy, rising through the ranks faster than most to reach his final rank by the age of thirty-seven. The loss of three bretonian battleships, two cruisers, eight gunships, and a full contingent of fighters to a defecting officer would have been humiliating and scarring for the BAF and the High Command changed the logs to show that it had been lost in a raid by pirates. Of course that wasn’t that far from the truth. The Colonel had been sent to explore a disturbance in the Tau-Thirty-one system, and upon arrival released an airborne neuro-virus through the air systems of all the ships. He had done so from his ready room aboard the HMS Furious with a simple push of a button. Canisters in all thirteen ships released the extremely potent, but short-lived virus in clouds through every cubic inch of the ships while he sat in his ready room, safely encased in a vac-suit. After five minutes he checked the ship’s computer and to his satisfaction there were no life signs on any of the vessels. The thirteen BAF warships sat dead in space, except for a single occupant. Kilometers away a flight group of twenty armored transports received a weak signal containing a simple message, “It’s done.” Since then the BSCS had developed a sizable presence in the Edinburgh system. Relatively unpopulated and remote, the only thing most people cared about there was the presence of the Luxury Liner Shetland, which in most people’s opinions wasn’t luxurious at all. Bretonians were sick of hearing about Gaian attacks on Planetform operations and so they ignored most of the news that came out of the system. The system was dying, and that made it a perfect place for the BSCS to set up shop. Parked here, completely unnoticed, the fleet had undergone some refits to bring them to BSCS specifications. A large installation had also appeared in the system, complete with a full naval construction yard; all of this hidden within the gravity wells of the twin blue stars. Another thing the people of Bretonia had failed to notice was the hundreds of millions of credits that had left the Duke of Edinburgh’s bank accounts. But it would only be a matter of time before they found out where it had ended up. --------- Dylan woke to find himself bound to a chair in a dark room. The cool air of the room soon overcame him and he began to shiver. He had no idea how long it was since those bruits had attacked him but judging from how hungry and thirsty he was he surmised it had been a while. He then noticed his throbbing head. The burn of his injuries on top of his dehydration made his vision blur. With all of this he failed to notice his other broken bones until he shifted to check his bindings. Dylan screamed out in pain as his broken bones and other injuries overwhelmed him. Everything went black. “WAKE UP YOU SORRY PIECE OF SH*T” Dylan felt a coolness envelop him as someone in the shadows threw a bucket of cold water in his face. He opened his eyes in shock only to be blinded by a powerful bright light shining right at him. He groaned in agony, closing his eyes turning his head away from the light. Suddenly he felt pressure on his head as someone’s hands turned his face back towards the light, and then he felt a rough fabric become tight across his head as another person tied his head in place. The whole time someone had been barking words at him, but his spinning head prevented him from hearing anything more than throbs. He felt someone strike his stomach and he dry-heaved, his stomach empty from the days of starvation. He felt water running down his face, dripping from his hair. He opened his mouth and it dripped in. it tasted like blood, sweat, and dirt. He didn’t care; it was water. He opened his eyes and watched the white light turn into a swirl of color before falling unconscious again. When Dylan finally came out of his coma three weeks later he found himself in a medical bed, his entire body in traction. His head was still swimming, but he felt better. He struggled to open his eyes but stopped once he heard a voice, a female voice. “Its remarkable he is recovering after the way those mercenaries treated him.” She said to an unknown person. “Well he’s no good to us dead, when he wakes up I want to know immediately” replied a man with deep commanding voice. “Of course colonel,” the female responded. Dylan remembered that night in the park, that one fateful night. Whatever happened to her? That amazing young woman who had stolen his heart that night. All those months, maybe even years since then, what had come of her? She was probably happily dating, engaged, married perhaps; such an awesome person didn’t remain available for long. Whatever the case may be; she was light years from this hell he was in. When he first heard the doctor’s voice he had thought that maybe, just maybe he had gotten away from that pain, that suffering that was so vivid in his mind; that torment that had replayed over and over in his head, leaving his mind screaming and his body motionless. Alas, it was not to be. Thinking about woman in the park had made his heart rate quicken, which of course drew the attention of the doctor. “Sir just relax, I’m sure you’re confused as to where you are and what has happened, you should be thankful you aren’t dead after what they did to you.” The lady said soothingly. “Let me guess, I haven’t left that place?” Dylan retorted dryly. “Well, in a way. You are in the same facility, but I wouldn’t consider this room the same as the one you woke up in originally.” “And what is such a kind person such as yourself doing in such an establishment?” the patient asked in a scathing tone. “Look,” she replied, “I don’t know what it is you know, or what you did, but I believe in their cause, they are trying to do a good thing.” “That’s hard to believe.” Dylan replied, wincing in pain, “but you know what they say about one man’s freedom fighter.” “Just lie their Mr. West, the colonel will be in shortly.” “Think he’ll bring me flowers and a ‘get well soon’ card?” “I doubt it some how,” the doctor said as she disappeared out of the room. Shortly after she left a tall man in a long black coat strode into the room. He had wide shoulders and the coat failed to hide his large arms and torso. His head was bald and lips were wrapped around a large cigar. Dylan laughed, “You have got to be kidding me” he managed to get out before wincing in pain. “What the hell do you think you’re laughing at sh*t stain,” the colonel growled. “Just that you’re the epitome of a ‘big bad guy’ that’s all. You look like you’re right out of a novel or something.” The colonel walked up to him without saying a word before extinguishing his cigar in the sensitive skin where Dylan’s hip met his abdomen. Dylan clenched his teeth and eyelids together as the man slowly turned the cigar, burying its ashes into the burnt flesh. The colonel smirked. “You have some information that I want. The colonel snarled at him. “Sir, I honestly have no idea what you are talking about.” The colonel cut the string holding the weight used to keep Dylan’s left leg up. His leg slammed down onto the bed. The captive groaned through his teeth. “I’ll ask you again, you have information I want.” “Sir, I mean no disrespect,” Dylan begged. “I apologize for my earlier comment, but before I can tell you what you need to know you need to be more specific about what you want.” “Two years ago you were at waterloo, you overheard certain information there, what do you know, and who did you tell?” “What, you mean how the Duke of Edinburgh is involved in illegal arms shipments? I told no one, that information ruined me, for no reason. Yeah, I heard it, but what could I have possibly done with it? Sold it to a newspaper? Like they would believe that. Yeah I could probably get some credits from a tabloid, but who believes that crap. I mean that story they ran about aliens with little blue ships invading Sirius, taking over Government officials? What kind of crap is that?” The colonel laughed. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Well this has been an unfortunate series of circumstances hasn’t it Mr. West?” “That’s the biggest f***ing understatement of the year” Dylan snapped. The colonel didn’t say a word; he just turned around and walked out of the room. “What happens to me now? Dylan shouted at him. “Get rid of him,” he overheard the officer mutter to a guard as he left.

if you explore a little you can find a source of nomad weaponry. I dont want to ruin the fun, so just look around... unfortunately you cant get the fighter, but with no shield and no thruster, how appealing can it be?