Stickman wandered the dark corridor he found himself in. His thin feet made barely a sound in the growing mists. The sound of scratching echoed above him.
"Stick, you're getting close to what we're looking for," said the Andonian control centre back home. "Keep moving forward, about 30 meters."
"Can you actually see anything in here and know that it's safe to go ahead, or are you just detecting some weird signal up ahead?" replied Stickman.
"Right, yeah. We're detecting something in the direction you're moving."
"So there could be a giant pit in the floor and you wouldn't know?" asked Stickman.
"We can't determine that. If there is, it's not emitting any intense radiation," responded control.
Stickman plodded on, counting his steps, hoping there weren't any non-radioactive pits up ahead. A wall seemed to be appearing out of the mists. In the centre of the wall near the floor was a bizarre device with spidery legs digging into the surface.
"Control, I think I see what you're looking for. What do you want me to do? It's a mechanical spider thing-a-ma-jig," reported Stickman.
Far above Stickman, Cat leaned over the edge, watching intently. What was this bizarre impossibly thin creature? He'd never seen anything like it. Suddenly he felt something shift. His toolkit! A paw darted out, but too late. It slipped over the edge and toppled down, hitting the floor right beside the thing.
The heavy toolkit smashed into the floor beside Stickman, knocking him over from the shock. He scampered back, then looked up the vast wall. Two peering eyes glistened at him.
Stickman righted himself and called upwards, "Oi! Don't throw stuff!" Then looking down at the equipment that had fallen, he saw the tools and called up once again, "Hey, can I use these? I need to get this spider thing off the wall."
A puffing sound came from down the hall, and both Stickman and Cat took their attention off each other to find its source.
Three little sparks of life, bumping and falling over each other.
So blind, so incompetent, but so precious.
The future is held within all of these young ones, born and unborn.
Some seek to unlock the future, others would have it forever sealed away.
Open your eyes, little fawn. Stand up and release your future!
"Only four more, only three more, only two more, only one more."
Scratched and twisted, hunted and slain. The screeching harriers above fed upon the sparse population.
"Only one more."
Yesterday it was but one more. Today it is but one more.
"Only one more."
Hold onto what little remains, for you will be rewarded greatly when it comes.
"Only one more. Let it end."
Running the trade routes of the cloud nebula is certainly hard on the outer hull!
Torn from a whole, long separated by choice, then by circumstance.
The inner core inverted and magnified beyond reason. Power torn from the universe, solidified in the body.
March on, crystal nomads.
Vicious spawn of the Onoculus, the C'Xeli lance through metal as easily as air, though they shatter readily under the force of a beam weapon.
Beware the spiny cutting rain, small Andonian pilots.
One out of the void, spitting larvae on the defense pod.
Two, three, wave after wave.
The Onoculus swarm descends with strafing might.
Rally the defenders, little Andonia.