Mobius: Total Chaos

[Thorvald of Lym]

It was only called a tent out of tradition. The wonders of modular construction meant they had what amounted to a portable assembly hall. Its avant-garde architecture was cleverly hidden by an assortment of anachronistic martial livery and masked by the heavy odour of beer and bacon. At the moment, the soldiers were gathered around a group of generals, immersed in weighty philosophic discourse.

“The open steppe,” said a young Mongol, “Fleet horse, falcon at your wrist, and the wind in your hair.”

“To crush your enemies,” replied a Saiyan, “To see them driven before you and to hear the lamentations of their women.”

“Hot water,” an elder answered, “Good dentishtry and shoft lavatory paper.”

All heads turned to the top of the staircase that led into an adjoining passageway as the Warlord Thur’kiel entered. He kicked the severed head of a Praetorian down the steps as he joined his comrades. “Thur’kiel!” cried a warrior, “His sage counsel shall surely settle this debate!”

“Thur’kiel,” called another, “What is best in life?”

The warlord surveyed the room. Everyone assembled gazed at him expectantly. “Pony,” he declared.

This unorthodox pronouncement was followed by a good deal of chatter, and an impudent shout of “Die in a grease fire” that was quickly silenced by Thur’kiel’s phaser pistol. His thunderous voice immediately silenced the room.

“For when the adventurers arrived in the hallowed city of Kethenicia, they did find a Portal; and lo, the Warlock didst summon the immensity of his strength to open the gateway; and as he hung crucified, the whole of his Power dedicated to maintaining the bridge, did he declare, with an unearthly fire blazing in his eyes: ‘For Pony’.”

The troop pondered what had been spoken, and concluded that Thur’kiel’s insight was infallible. “Now, brothers,” the warlord boomed, “We make for the valley. May what you have heard carry you to glorious victory.”


Dawn crested the hills as the robot army marched west. One of the Praetorian escorts looked toward the horizon and signalled for the contingent to halt. Small figures were emerging along the summit. It magnified its view; they were armed, a motley crew of humans, humanoids, and shaggy beasts. All at once they advanced, rows and rows spilling over in a raging swarm. The robots reformed and prepared for combat; within minutes the shouts of their adversaries were picked up by their microphones. As the two armies drew into engagement, the Barbarians let loose a single cry that reverberated across the battlefield:

“FOR PONYYYY!!!”

------------------------------

Psychic powers and mental stress are a dangerous combination. Levi Kellerman could testify to this fact all too readily. First the AB-bombs had triggered a surge in mutant activity that had forced a retreat from the east; then Eggman’s salient had pushed Fringe into full rout. President Farnsworth had vanished, the chain of command had splintered, and despite its best efforts the army’s fragile grip on Sermat’s westernmost peninsula was faltering.

Levi was conscripted into the militia when the war turned sour, and had been at the front for almost the whole sorry fight, most of his time spent trying to rally with one scattered unit after another. He believed he was now technically acting commander of the 12th Patriots Platoon, but at this point the soldiers would answer to anyone with a clue as to what was going on. Levi had been too busy trying to stay alive for the stress to get to him, but after arriving in a bivouac outside Janetsville, the retreat had slowed enough for his thoughts to turn on themselves.

It all seemed so hopeless. They could dig in for a day or two before the damn robots overwhelmed them. He didn’t even think they were bothering to secure what they’d won; they just kept pushing on as though they’d explode if they ever stopped. Soon they’d have him on the coast, and then... what? Fringe still had naval superiority in the region, but wholesale evacuation was virtually impossible. Where could they go, for that matter? The islands in the southwest couldn’t handle refugees. He didn’t even know if they had anything left on Angel Island.

He was pacing back and forth, revolver in hand. He’d broken out in a steady sweat; every errant breeze now sounded like the onset of an attack. He kept glancing down at the gun. He’d heard of what they did to resisters; quite an ingenious way to replenish their numbers, he had to admit. He didn’t even know what he was doing with a gun; he sure as hell couldn’t shoot worth a damn, even with the little training he’d received. In fact now that he thought about it, he’d probably botch his own suicide.

Before Levi could contemplate alternative ways to off himself, he sensed someone approaching and hastily tried to clear his mind, although with his nerves shot he’d probably been putting out a strong signal anyway. He turned around to see Stacey Cutts running toward him. She was a student, drafted like him, but had been spared the agony of running after a steadily retreating front line. She’d taken a liking to him soon after they met, which to Levi meant yet another weight on his addled brain.

“Robotnik,” she panted, doubling over as she caught her breath, gesturing behind her.

Levi shook his head. He knew the reprieve wouldn’t last. “How soon?”

Stacey broke into a broad grin. “You won’t believe it..!”


Over the next three days the retreat ground to a halt as Freebotnik’s shock troops gradually lost strength. Fringe was understandably suspicious, worried they were rallying for a concerted assault; but by the second week they realized an attack wasn’t coming. Finally able to catch its breath, the weary army reorganized before trying to figure out what to do next. They soon enough found out that their saving grace was the UBS, who had launched an ambitious invasion of Freebotnik’s surviving provinces across the continent. The badniks had to divert to protect their flank, buying Fringe desperately-needed time. With the president’s whereabouts still unknown, General Marcus Lance declared himself acting leader of what remained of the country and began organizing the counterattack.

“I’ve gotta hand it to ‘em, given their standing wars I’m surprised they’d have the strength to go after the Black Arms, let alone Eggman. But,” he fixed a meaningful glare around the table, “We can’t count on them to win, and we sure as living hell don’t let them take any more land than absolutely necessary. When they’ve broken the badniks they’ll turn on us. We have to be ready for them.”

“With respect, sir,” interjected a fellow officer, “The army’s barely fit to hold what we still have. We should dig in, find out what happened to Angel, and then look at reinforcing the front.”

“No, he’s right,” Levi muttered, examining the map, “We don’t have time to wait. At the speed they’re advancing, they’ll be on Prometheus Bluff in two or three weeks.”

“The M.O.M. Center?” The officer spun around. “How does a conscript know about that base?”

“Because,” Levi retorted, “I was part of the suicide squad sent to keep Eggman from finding it.”

The officer opened his mouth but quickly checked himself. Lance continued: “If we can retake control of the Psionic Decimator, the UBS won’t pose a threat. Prometheus Bluff is now our top priority.”

“Prometheus Bluff is a good three hundred miles outside our zone of control,” another officer put in.

“Then we’d best hurry,” Lance replied, unfazed. He turned to Levi. “Since you’re familiar with the area, I’m assigning you to the task force that’ll lead the salient.”

It took all of Levi’s concentration to mute his thoughts to the soldiers assembled, managing a “Thank you, sir” through gritted teeth.

 

[Tani Coyote]

"For Pony" shall forever be the best battlecry ever.

 

[Double A]

 

[Mosher]

Perhaps one day the epilogue will be finished.

 

[Thorvald of Lym]

It'll finish. Later rather than sooner, but it will finish.

I hit a bit of a snag since I want to showcase each faction at least once, but I know almost nothing about half of them. Hint hint loafers.

 

[Thorvald of Lym]

I’ll give credit where credit is due: given the opportunity to flee, Nozomi chose to stay and fight. Just how unwavering her commitment was to the Mobians surprised many; herself most of all.

One week after losing contact with the Rikke, Coruscant dispatched a task group to ascertain what had happened. By now the chaos storms were interfering with interplanetary transmissions, and so Nozomi could not be given a direct line home. The fleet commander, having been briefed on the situation in Mobius and seeing for himself how it had deteriorated further, advised her to pull out. She asked who was relieving her. He said he didn’t know. She told him to come back when he had an answer. So that’s what he did.

The fleet withdrew to the system's outskirts and relayed the scenario to New Port. As expected, her father, the surface marshal CivGeneral, pressed for the immediate deployment of a full battlegroup to support the Company. But fellow officers and key senators dissented: the original mission was a bust and the present conflict showed every intention of exploding into all-out war. Still reeling from the international fiascoes of years previous, the leadership was unwilling to commit itself to foreign intervention unless the embattled region was a certain diplomatic ally or possessed strong historical ties. Mobius offered neither.

Two days later, Nozomi was told to pull out. Ships would be provided to evacuate her command forces; she was asked for personnel numbers so they’d know how many to send. Her response was a simple ‘0’; either Coruscant would back her up, or they needn’t come at all. The envoy protested in the strongest terms he could, but she remained steadfast. Eventually, the commander, possibly aware of Nozomi’s previous stubbornness during council with the Corellia Company, curtly bid her good day and warned her not to bank on an eleventh-hour rescue once the fecal matter hit the rotary air impeller. On his return to Coruscant he was harshly reprimanded by CivGeneral, who nearly had him court-martialled until he was reminded that it had been Nozomi’s choice to remain planetside.

She almost regretted the decision. Not long after the mediator fleet withdrew, the Company was beset by a string of major defeats. Following the collapse of the Itzamnite front in North Cademstar, the Black Arms turned southward. Morale crippled by the loss of the Rikke, the hastily-cobbled garrison there beat a hasty withdrawal back to the mainland. Meanwhile, the UBS, operating on a strategy of ‘fight anything that moves’, continued to push into the border zones, and the home guard fell back in a similar matter. Brass was in utter disarray; there was widespread talk of abandoning Sermat altogether and retreating to the city of Solitude on South Cademstar. In less than two weeks, UBS troops were threatening the industrial heartland. Acting on their own initiative, leading generals went so far as to begin preliminary evacuation plans. Then, suddenly, against all expectations and her own character, Nozomi grabbed the bull by the horns, issuing direct orders for field commanders to stand their ground or face “punishment worse than the Abhorrents”. Brass thought she was bluffing; but the grunts, terrorized by the threat (however unverified) of execution, held the line.

Nobody can be entirely sure what she was thinking. She may have seen it as simple disciplinary pragmatism. She probably felt the need to reassert herself after so many gaffes with the Bundesleet. She certainly couldn’t afford to sit back and let her army run on autopilot. It was bold, it was reckless, and committed by such a green officer could have led to a full-flung mutiny. But Coruscant’s longstanding tradition of deference to authority played to her favour. The rank-and-file’s adherence to the edict unexpectedly but crucially short-circuited the chain of command: this was an order by the Legate, who was officially supreme commander of the armed forces; if the officers failed to fall in line, the grunts might very well hold them as traitors, and respond accordingly. Opposition evaporated practically overnight.

And just in time. After smashing a Praetorian legion, the UBS concentrated their might eastward in a major offensive at the same time that Freebotnik remnants struck the South Cademstar colony. The assault lasted a whole week, but the ERC miraculously held together, and slowly began to drive the barbarians back. The treacherous brass was quick to laud praise upon Nozomi's leadership, assuring her that they had always known she’d pull them through. Her memory was not so shallow, however, and in the aftermath of the attack she shuffled the chain of command to make sure her inner circle was loyal to her first and foremost, preventing any such future musings of mutiny. Disaffected officers would later paint her actions as a power grab, triggering an internal investigation into the mission, but the committee’s findings exonerated Nozomi, deeming her decision “reasonable” to preserve military integrity.

Still desperate to extricate his daughter from the crisis zone, the surface marshal turned to his Chancellor mother for help. The Senate tabled an emergency bill ordering the immediate withdrawal of the Company from Mobius, delivered by another intermediary fleet. But Nozomi was finally fitting into her commander’s boots and flung it back in New Port’s face, demonstrating to an utterly mortified CivGeneral how Coruscant’s ploy to maintain total deniability over the mission had succeeded more so than it had intended. The ER Company’s charter exonerated it from Coruscanti law, and under her post as Legate Nozomi did not officially report to the Armed Forces. Chartered as an independent political actor, she was now acting under the full auspices of that autonomy; the only way Coruscant could force her back was to invade the planet itself.

Before any of the increasingly complicated and/or plain outlandish plans for early extraction could be seriously considered, Mobius fell off the radar. Radio signals dropped dead, and attempts at investigation were thwarted by vicious energy storms a full light-day beyond the planet that made conventional navigation impossible. Itzamna’s AB ploy was now in the full throes of its deadly consequence; when Coruscant was at last able to re-establish contact two years later, Mobius had undergone a dramatic change.

 

[Tani Coyote]

Oooo, cliffhanger!

Amazed to see this project is still being undertaken!

Coruscant is reaping the fruits of giving one's colonies far too much autonomy. At least they should be happy the chaos energy isn't so widespread it's warping the planet around via Chaos Control...

 

[Mosher]

The Bundesleet will fall like all the rest to to the Freebotnik horde. Resistance is futile.

 

[Thorvald of Lym]

Just wait 'til you see what Loki does. :3

 

[Tani Coyote]

It could be worse. We could get Enerjak.

 

[Double A]

How is that worse for you? There is no way you are a part of that "we."

 

[Tani Coyote]

Teehehehe, I'm just celebrating the good times of days past. I don't think any other IOT GM has quite had the same "Rocks fall, everyone dies" scenario as that...

 

[Mosher]

Just wait 'til you see what Loki does. :3

Coming in late 2014