RE: Sixty-four Pixel Colonists
02-07-2018, 06:15 AM
(This post was last modified: 02-07-2018, 06:25 AM by SeaWyrm.)
TURN 10
Colony Mood:
Terrified
Construction Drone: IDLE
Compact Scouting Drone: MISSING
Compact Scouting Drone: IDLE
Projects:
Analyze Mold: Complete!
Build Compact Algae Tank: Complete!
Design Deep-Cycle Battery Array: Complete!
Rescue the Biologist: ??? Turns
![[Image: map_10_cropped.gif]](https://www.deepwatercreations.com/SixtyFourPixelColonists/A/10/map_10_cropped.gif)
The lights flicker and go dark. A moment later, they brighten up again. The colonists, already on edge, are severely spooked for a moment before they realize it's just the jury-rigged solar array faulting out, but thanks in part to Tom's meditation training, they keep their calm and focus well enough to avoid any accidents - this time. The solar panel, for its part, resumes functioning - for now.
Mio, tired of all the colonists' jumpiness, throws a tarp over the alien construction. That hardly makes it go away or anything, but at least they don't have to look at its bizarre, unearthly form whenever they step outside, which helps a little bit. They should probably decide what else to do about it, though, and soon.
Mood: -Terrified, +Unsettled
The colonists finish their analysis of the mold as best they can without the biologist. What they find unnerves them: The mold doesn't resemble any sort of Earth mold they have on catalogue. Its structure, examined up close, is angular and complex, its individual strands forking and weaving together into a tiered, self-similar network. The strands shimmer with a metallic sheen. The colonists are forced to examine it in the tank where it presumably grew, because none of their efforts can break it or shift it from its position. They can't even take a sample for chemical analysis. They might be able to learn more if they had a proper lab to work from, or if a specialist with subject matter expertise took a look.
It seems tank A will have to remain offline for the forseeable future. Unless the colonists have any clever ideas for dealing with this mysterious problem.
Fortunately, the construction drone has just finished building Compact Algae Tank E as a replacement. The colonists set the new tank to generate plasticarbon for the moment.
There's room for one more compact algae tank next to the newly-built one, or another storage crate. There's also room next to Compact Storage Crate A. The colonists resolve to start their next non-compact build project to the west, although there isn't much space next to the big mound of rocks there. Too bad they don't have a way to clear away those rocks. They also discuss the merits of recycling unused buildings for plasticarbon and space. If they want to do that, they'll need to design and build some kind of equipment for it.
The ansible crackles to life!
The rescue party finds something: While walking around a dune of regolith, the medic stubs their toe on what proves to be the missing scouting drone. The drone shows heavy signs of damage, but appears to be in the process of returning to the colony, though it was half-buried in asteroid dust and several of its wheels had jammed. Strapped to its back is a wrapped bundle of cloth cut from a colony spacesuit. Closer inspection reveals this to be an entire sleeve, roughly hewn from its suit just above the elbow, with a glove still attached at the cuff.
After helping the geologist clean the vomit from their helmet in a hastily-errected pressure tent, the rescue party cuts open the frozen cloth to find - instead of the dismembered arm they expected - several harvested ice stalks shoved into it. The rescue party doesn't have the equipment to thaw the stalks.
The medic pulls Tom and Shiva aside while the geologist is recovering from their shock and quietly points out to them the obvious: If they weren't already expecting the worst, they should now. Whatever compelled the biologist to cut off their own arm, they can't have survived for long after that.
"This expedition is pointless," they say. "We should stop now before anyone else gets hurt."
Tom asks why the medic is pulling them aside like this and not talking to the geologist, too.
"They're taking the loss very hard," the medic says of the geologist. "Harder than they're showing. This is a very personal matter for them. I'm not sure they're capable of applying good judgement. I'll need your help to persuade them to give up on-"
"Who says we're giving up?" asks Shiva.
"But-"
"I'll help you keep an eye on them, but I won't help you to talk them into turning back. I know things look grim. I realize this expedition is also dangerous for the four of us. But if there's the slightest chance..."
Tom nods agreement. The medic looks frustrated. "Fine," they say, "but when someone else goes space-crazy and starts removing limbs, don't come running to me."
"Well," points out Shiva, "given that you're the medic, I should think that if I did lose a limb, you're the one who-"
The medic rolls their eyes and turns away. "Can it," they say. "Just help me figure out what to do with this thing." They indicate the broken drone. "We shouldn't leave it here, but we can't very well bring it with us, and we don't have the tools we need to repair it."
Tom wants to apologize to Shiva, or maybe just chew them out for being a bad communicator, but they still haven't found the right moment. You have to find the right moment for these sorts of things. Can't just open your mouth and start saying stuff, that never goes well.
THE NUMBERS:
Colony Mood:
Terrified
Construction Drone: IDLE
Compact Scouting Drone: MISSING
Compact Scouting Drone: IDLE
Projects:
Analyze Mold: Complete!
Build Compact Algae Tank: Complete!
Design Deep-Cycle Battery Array: Complete!
Rescue the Biologist: ??? Turns
Spoiler
The lights flicker and go dark. A moment later, they brighten up again. The colonists, already on edge, are severely spooked for a moment before they realize it's just the jury-rigged solar array faulting out, but thanks in part to Tom's meditation training, they keep their calm and focus well enough to avoid any accidents - this time. The solar panel, for its part, resumes functioning - for now.
Mio, tired of all the colonists' jumpiness, throws a tarp over the alien construction. That hardly makes it go away or anything, but at least they don't have to look at its bizarre, unearthly form whenever they step outside, which helps a little bit. They should probably decide what else to do about it, though, and soon.
Mood: -Terrified, +Unsettled
The colonists finish their analysis of the mold as best they can without the biologist. What they find unnerves them: The mold doesn't resemble any sort of Earth mold they have on catalogue. Its structure, examined up close, is angular and complex, its individual strands forking and weaving together into a tiered, self-similar network. The strands shimmer with a metallic sheen. The colonists are forced to examine it in the tank where it presumably grew, because none of their efforts can break it or shift it from its position. They can't even take a sample for chemical analysis. They might be able to learn more if they had a proper lab to work from, or if a specialist with subject matter expertise took a look.
It seems tank A will have to remain offline for the forseeable future. Unless the colonists have any clever ideas for dealing with this mysterious problem.
Fortunately, the construction drone has just finished building Compact Algae Tank E as a replacement. The colonists set the new tank to generate plasticarbon for the moment.
There's room for one more compact algae tank next to the newly-built one, or another storage crate. There's also room next to Compact Storage Crate A. The colonists resolve to start their next non-compact build project to the west, although there isn't much space next to the big mound of rocks there. Too bad they don't have a way to clear away those rocks. They also discuss the merits of recycling unused buildings for plasticarbon and space. If they want to do that, they'll need to design and build some kind of equipment for it.
The ansible crackles to life!
Galactic Frontiers Project: Colonist Outfitters Department Wrote:MESSAGE RECEIVED. DROP POD EN ROUTE.
ETA: 5 TURNS
The rescue party finds something: While walking around a dune of regolith, the medic stubs their toe on what proves to be the missing scouting drone. The drone shows heavy signs of damage, but appears to be in the process of returning to the colony, though it was half-buried in asteroid dust and several of its wheels had jammed. Strapped to its back is a wrapped bundle of cloth cut from a colony spacesuit. Closer inspection reveals this to be an entire sleeve, roughly hewn from its suit just above the elbow, with a glove still attached at the cuff.
After helping the geologist clean the vomit from their helmet in a hastily-errected pressure tent, the rescue party cuts open the frozen cloth to find - instead of the dismembered arm they expected - several harvested ice stalks shoved into it. The rescue party doesn't have the equipment to thaw the stalks.
The medic pulls Tom and Shiva aside while the geologist is recovering from their shock and quietly points out to them the obvious: If they weren't already expecting the worst, they should now. Whatever compelled the biologist to cut off their own arm, they can't have survived for long after that.
"This expedition is pointless," they say. "We should stop now before anyone else gets hurt."
Tom asks why the medic is pulling them aside like this and not talking to the geologist, too.
"They're taking the loss very hard," the medic says of the geologist. "Harder than they're showing. This is a very personal matter for them. I'm not sure they're capable of applying good judgement. I'll need your help to persuade them to give up on-"
"Who says we're giving up?" asks Shiva.
"But-"
"I'll help you keep an eye on them, but I won't help you to talk them into turning back. I know things look grim. I realize this expedition is also dangerous for the four of us. But if there's the slightest chance..."
Tom nods agreement. The medic looks frustrated. "Fine," they say, "but when someone else goes space-crazy and starts removing limbs, don't come running to me."
"Well," points out Shiva, "given that you're the medic, I should think that if I did lose a limb, you're the one who-"
The medic rolls their eyes and turns away. "Can it," they say. "Just help me figure out what to do with this thing." They indicate the broken drone. "We shouldn't leave it here, but we can't very well bring it with us, and we don't have the tools we need to repair it."
Tom wants to apologize to Shiva, or maybe just chew them out for being a bad communicator, but they still haven't found the right moment. You have to find the right moment for these sorts of things. Can't just open your mouth and start saying stuff, that never goes well.
THE NUMBERS:
Spoiler