Ludeon Colony

[Slimy_Slider]

I've got no problem with that Jim.
Or should I say Mother.

[JimJammer89]

Names, have you given up on this whole story deal or have you simply forgotten about it?

[Names are for the Weak]

Names, have you given up on this whole story deal or have you simply forgotten about it?

I'm not dead yet!

Yeah, sorry about that. I was working on the first episode, which was extremely time-consuming due to me putting much more work into the backstories of the various characters than I had done before. It took me about 3-4 hours to do the entire thing, but once I had almost completed it, I accidentally deleted it, completely destroying my motivation to do this thing. Honestly, you guys have every right to be annoyed at me. I gave you a promise to upload an episode on a timely manner, and failed to deliver it. But I managed to work up the motivation to do it all over again. Hopefully I will be better in the future. Trust me, I have been in the past. But without further ado, here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for.

It was a peaceful day on Nova Sheratan. Well, relatively peaceful. Somewhere, a man was forced to kill and eat his childhood pet on an uninhabitable sheet of ice over the sea. Somewhere, a pack of insane animals with a taste for human flesh was decimating a fledgling town struggling for a foothold. But that was not here. Here was peace. Here was calm.

Suddenly, a massive ship screamed across the sky, leaving a black and orange streak of fire and smoke behind it. A small piece of the ship broke off and landed in that peaceful area, scattering the various animals roaming the place. On that small piece were 5 stasis pods containing an equal amount of people in total, who only shared two things in common: Their planet of origin and the fact they were all escaping to a utopian glitterworld; that is, until they crashed on a rimworld, planets on the edge of humanity's habitat in the galaxy that were plagued by conflict, natural disasters, and other horrible things. Their stasis pods, having just enough reserve power to release their occupants, deactivated the cryogenic functions and swung wide open, with their disoriented occupants clambering out and puking from cryosleep sickness.

One such person, Waykes "Wolf" Wolfier, was by far the oldest of the group, at least biologically. She was never born by conventional means. Instead, she was flash grown by a midworld dictatorship called West Borea to be a disposable soldier. However, due to an anomaly experienced during her development, her cognitive abilities far outshined her peers and indeed, most people in general. Her officer took notice of this, and rather than executing her like what happened to most "defective" soldiers, he presented her to the leader of the West Borea, a man by the name of Jim Long Moon. Instead of being thrown into the trenches as cannon fodder like most people like her, Wolf was used as a human computer, researching new military technologies and put in charge of logistics. However, her career was cut short when nuclear war ravaged her world, changing her relatively comfortable under the wing of West Borea into a terrifying daily struggle against the elements and equally desperate raiders. This is the world her son, Slimy, grew up in.

Unlike his mother, Slimy was never scared of the world. He simply adapted to it. He never experienced his mother's nostalgia for the easier times, when one didn't have to crawl underground to avoid black rain. Raids were also just a part of life for him, and he learned to shoot carefully to fight better and conserve ammunition. Not to say that his lifestyle was never easy for him. He inherited his mother's natural pessimism, and on occasion turned to drugs for pleasure. In the years leading up to his adulthood, West Borea finally made a comeback, with remnants of the government coming out of hiding and conquering old and new territories. The land he and his mother lived on was reclaimed by the West Boreans, but of course his mother never received the benefits previously granted to her under the old world. Instead, she was treated like a peasant like everybody else under their rule. When he was about 20, Slimy made the mistake of publicly speaking out against West Borea, having none of the trepidation that previous generations might have about doing so, due to not being raised with that mindset. The next few years for him were spent on the lam, with trust being a rather rare thing in his life. A gunshot scar on his leg, acquired not long after his flight, serves as a reminder to him how even his dearest friends can actually be betrayers looking to make a quick buck. As a result, he preferred to tend to his own wounds, hunt his own food, and even manufacture his own weapons if possible. But one day, he came across a ship that was accepting passengers to a glitterworld for charity reasons. He saw his chance for salvation right in front of him, but then remembered his mother. He made the grueling trip back to his mother to bring her along to what he thought would be salvation. They, along with 3 other people, were led to the section of the ship where they would be stored during the flight.

One of those people weren't there for a better life, though. In fact, a much more nefarious purpose lay in their mind. Subject 83, though often simply just called "83", was part of a series of experiments by West Borea to raise soldiers that were superior to ones grown in vats. He was part of a group of 100 children kidnapped for this purpose. Of those 100 children, only 11 of them survived the brutal training they were subjected to over the month it occurred. 83 couldn't remember what happened during that period, though. All he knows is that few survived and he came out a much more resilient person. During his adulthood, the government decided to experiment with bionics instead, which were recently invented by a certain human computer that they had stumbled across. He was subjected to various experimental prosthetics, but the only one that actually improved his function was a bionic eye implanted into him. During this time, he was also brainwashed into viewing these experiments as an improvement of the human body rather than toying with his life, giving him feelings of pride with the knowledge of these enhancements. After the revival of West Borea, he was sent on the ship to assassinate the captain and destroy the ship, in case anyone defecting from West Borea thought they could escape via the ship. Luckily for them, the mechanism that would prematurely eject him from the stasis pod failed, leaving him stuck in cryosleep just like everybody else. When the ship crashed, he decided to keep his dirty little from the other survivors.

When nuclear war raved their world, Tilat Zanostekkud's parents, along with the rest of their community, retreated underground, living in a primitive subterranean cave complex that was dug on the fly. Tilat never once saw the sun during her childhood. Instead, it was spent navigating the smaller tunnels that only children were nimble enough to crawl through, foraging for bugs, ore, wells, and edible fungi. As she grew older, she was no longer suited for this job, and instead became a geologist, a fairly important job in the kingdom of the mole-men. She helped identify rocks that contained valuable resources, as well as which ones were better or worse for building purposes. However, due to various hardships in her life, she turned to alcohol for comfort, with her drink of choice having an alcohol content of about 50%. This had disastrous consequences for both Tilat's liver and her character as a whole. She became far less productive, being either drunk or hungover. And when she did work, it was of universally poor quality. It was the norm rather than the exception for rocks to be misidentified, having not-quite-catastrophic but nonetheless bad consequences on the community as a whole. One day, she flew into a drunken rage that left a man dead. With population being a major issue in the community, it was unanimously decided that she should be banished topside, where she was expected to succumb either to the elements or her fellow man. That probably would have happened, if she hadn't stumbled across the ship to the glitterworld a few hours after being thrown out. She was accepted with open arms, and fully expected to live the rest of her life in utopian bliss.

Some other people were also raised underground after the bombs fell. But not all lived in the primitive caves that Tilat called home. Donnigan Trule was one such person. His parents were lucky enough to worm their way into a sophisticated nuclear bunker that was more or less just like the old world. He had access to masterpieces that were otherwise denied to the outside, and preferred to spend his time with those than the other people in the bunker. He was quite intelligent, but not the most diligent person in the world. The standard jobs assigned to him in the bunker never suited him, and he found his time was better spent inventing new gadgets for the benefit of the vault. One day, while listening to music on a ham radio, he received a message informing everybody about the ship to the glitterworld. Immediately, he knew what he had to do. With the smell of potential profit in the air, he snuck out of the vault and joined a caravan group on the way to the ship. For a grueling year he braved the horrors of the outside world before reaching his destination, at one point even being captured and branded as a slave, fortunately escaping captivity before being sold. He finally made it to the ship, with the excitement of being a glitterworld entrepreneur being the only thing on his mind before entering his pod.

But alas, fate had other plans. For a few minutes, everybody took in what had just happened and processed it in their minds. Then, after they were all done panicking about being stranded on a rimworld, they took what little supplies allotted to them in their survival package and stockpiled it. It wasn't exactly an ideal stockpile, but it had to do. There was an abandoned stone hut nearby which was immediately occupied and used as a bedroom. A rough start for a rough situation.

The next morning, 83 went up to a large stone building. He figured that they might be able to repurpose it for something else, like a factory. But before he could start breaking down one of the walls, he heard clicking emanating from within, and decided upon further reflection that it would be more prudent to build some proper beds. As everybody could attest to, it was quite unpleasant to sleep on a cold floor.

On day 4, yet another ship crashed near them. It was nothing like the behemoth that they had been transported in, and appeared to be a simple carrier ship. When they combed through the wreckage, they found some yayo, which they could sell if needed. After all, even though nobody liked the thought of possibly contributing to a drug trade, that was preferable to starving in their minds. 83, being the only person who had any idea at all of how to build things, wielded some tables and stools out of the scrap metal left behind in the initial crash. In addition to that, he also cobbled together a solar panel, some batteries, and an electric stove. Tilat volunteered for cooking duty, but due to there being no drink of any kind in sight, she could barely concentrate on the task at hand, namely making meals. In fact, she began to wander in a confused daze, oblivious to the pleas of her fellow survivors to snap out of it. To make matters worse, a pack of alphabeavers moved into the area, and while they were eventually all killed, most of their meat was wasted due to them rotting away before she could butcher them.

Slimy was woken up one morning to the sound of screeching metal, like a ship crashing. At first he thought he was just having another flashback, but it felt too...real. He tried to let go of it, but the possibility that something had actually happened led him to investigate outside. To his astonishment, a man had crashed onto their land in an escape pod, and it appeared that he had sustained considerable injuries. Slimy knew little about medicine, but he certainly knew more about the subject than anyone else in the group, more often than not acting as his own doctor during his years on the run. He quickly carried the man into the stone hut which had more or less become the center of their base, grabbed some of the healroot that they had foraged from the surrounding area, and did his best to bandage the man's wounds. The person that had just been rescued spent a few hours moaning in pain on the floor, but was eventually able to stand up and crawl away. Everyone watched as he walked off and wished him good luck. Wished being the operative word here. One rabbit contracted a severe case of rabies and was filled with an irrational desire to kill the nearest human. That ended up being the man who had just arrived on the planet. Without thinking, it charged at him and bit him in the groin, rendering him immobile from the pain again. Slimy pulled out the pistol that was included in the survival kit and shot the animal to death before it could reach him. He then walked on over to the space refugee, who turned out to be still alive, albeit emasculated. Once again, Slimy rescued and healed the poor thing, and once again he thanked them by walking away. But this time, the mad rabbit of Caerbannog didn't maul him on the way out, at least not to the knowledge of...Wait, what do they call themselves?

It had been a point of conversation amongst the group that they needed a name. What if they encountered traders, or rescuers? How would they refer to themselves? Eventually, everybody just took to calling themselves, "The Lost", due to the fact that they were, well, lost on a galactic equivalent of a third world country. The Lost also decided to give their area a name as well. The one that was decided upon was Clayton, suggested by Wolf, mainly because it just sounded like a pleasant name for a town. What wasn't pleasant was a heat wave that struck the group of plucky survivors. Plants were withering away, and food was spoiling faster. 83 made a cooler that would help with the problem at hand, ensuring that nobody would die of heatstroke.

One thing that was also a concern was whether or not the planet was populated at all. No caravans or other signs of human habitation on this planet was there, and some of The Lost began to wonder if they were the only ones on the planet. That question was answered when a man charged at the group with a stone club in his hand, wearing only a loincloth. Needless to say, the fight did not go well for him. 83 and Slimy drew their weapons and shot the man down, but didn't kill him outright. However, he was bleeding profusely. 83 hastily renovated a nearby stone shack as a prison cell, while Slimy captured the man with the intent to interrogate him. Where did he come from? How many more people are on the planet? Is your culture the only other one on this world? However, before he could even talk to the man, he died of blood loss. He was buried in a grave near the cell, with almost nothing being known about his identity. The only thing that they learned from him was that they were not alone, or in good company.

The heat wave started to affect the people of Clayton more than they thought it would. Despite having a working cooler permanently set at room temperature, heat stroke was still a major problem. The unbearable temperatures, combined with her increasingly hard to cope with withdrawls, led to Tilat breaking down mentally once again. And just like last time, there were beavers that needed to be cooked that weren't cooked. And berries. And other game. And survival meals were running low. However, this time she was joined by Donnigan, who just couldn't handle the heat: literally. He too wandered around in a confused daze, doing little to change his situation except expose himself to the extreme temperatures even more. But all was not lost. One morning, the group walked outside and noticed something different. Something nice and pleasant. They had trouble saying what it was for a moment, but then it hit them like a train; the heat wave had ended. It was cool again.

[Slimy_Slider]

Wow, this is amazing! Way more in depth then I thought it was going to be and I like it. I can't wait for the next instalment. Keep writing please.

[Names are for the Weak]

It was a rather uneventful day. The little hamlet of Clayton was doing relatively well. Some wooden feet fell onto the area, just in case prosthetics were ever needed. The very first potato harvest was made, ensuring that they would have some food in the event of lean times. Some livestock joined them. Alpacas, to be specific. They appeared used to human contact and were fully comfortable around them. A freezer was also constructed so that they could store food far longer than they couold without one. Then, the small one-way radio that came with their survival package lit up. A woman claiming to be from a faction called the Southwestern Neder Amalgamation notified them about a cache of supplies, such as tools and weapons. It boosted the mood of the group considerably to know that not every other faction was out to kill them.

Tilat, after painful days of going cold turkey on alcohol, finally managed to defeat her demons. Drink no longer ruled her life in the way it used to. As far as she was concerned, she was a new person. Wolf, on the other hand, wasn't doing quite as well. The fact that she would probably never see the glitterworld that she was promised weighed down heavily on her mind. She stopped what she was doing and wandered around sadly. Just then, a large group of well-armed people with wargs and pack animals started to approach them. At first, everybody feared the worst. The Lost thought that they would get mowed down and what little they had snatched from them. But it turned out that it was simply a group of weapon traders, to the relief of everybody. No business was conducted. Except for one thing. A mad hare attacked a member of the caravan, causing her to drop her gun. After said rabbit experienced the full force of 15 armed people, she just kinda left her gun there. Sensing opportunity for profit, Wolf sold the gun back to the caravan, who didn't seem to mind such dirty business tricks. They parted on good terms.

It was decided that it might be prudent to investigate the item stash for themselves. 83 and Slimy volunteered to investigate the cache, and brought with them enough potatoes to make it there and back again. With supplies collected and goodbyes said, they departed. Everyone in Clayton was a bit sad at the departure of the two, as well as a little fearful that they may not return. As if to cheer them up, a psychic ship entered the orbit of the planet, which was programmed to play "Don't Worry Be Happy" on loop in the minds of everyone near. This helped to keep heads high around camp.

Not long after their departure, Slimy and 83 were held up by the legendary Pants Bandit. As the name implies, he was infamous for sticking up caravans and demanding that everybody pull down their pants and hand them over to him. It was never known what exactly he did with the pants he took. All reports confirm that he certainly never wore them. In any case, he proudly walked over to the duo, naked as the day he was born, and demanded that Slimy give him his pants (clearly 83's weren't worthy), or else there would be hell to pay. Of course, Slimy refused to do such a thing, being the modest sort. The Pants Bandit immediately gave a bloodcurdling scream and charged at him with a wooden club.

It is around this time that further records of the Pants Bandit seem to stop appearing.

After all that was dealt with, the journey continued. Meanwhile, back at Clayton, Tilat noticed some wild ambrosia growing while foraging one day. Everybody looked forward to the rush the plant would bring to them a few days from now. But things weren't quite so rosy for the caravan crew. They arrived to the specified coordinates of the cache, only to find that an infamous raider group called the Jackals of Blood had beat them to the chase. The two fought valiantly, taking many raiders down with them, but there were jus too many of them. 83 was shot down first, but not before killing one and downing two others. Slimy tried to cut their losses and tried to drag him out of the area, but he was shot down before he could escape. They were overpowered and left to bleed out while the pirates took all the good stuff and left.

At first, the remaining people of Clayton didn't allow themselves to get too concerned with the prolonged absence of Slimy and 83. Maybe they had encountered some kind of obstacle that impeded them. But as time grew on, it became increasingly apparent that they weren't coming back. There was no epiphany or particular moment when they realized that the two had failed in their quest, but it was eventually just accepted that they were gone. Wolf, however, didn't take this fact too well. In grief over her son's death, she began to wander aimlessly around the place. Donnigan, too, broke, but for a different reason. For the past few days, he had been trying to woo Tilat into a relationship. He was persistent, but he just couldn't take a hint and broke due to the constant rejection. This little love story doesn't end well, spoiler alert.

The Jackals of Blood, now knowing about the existence of the Lost, decided to take the fight to them. Tilat, being the only one capable of fighting the gang at this time, drew her pistol and confronted the three attackers. One of them had an incendiary launcher. She was able to do some damage to the pirates, but not before getting downed from the pain. Remember the incendiary launcher? Well, the raider armed with it knew how to use it. So after being downed from the pain of gunshot wounds, she was left to burn to a crisp while they moved on to the other two targets. Two of them ganged up on Wolf, figuring that an old lady clearly in a state of grief and armed with nothing but a plasteel knife would make for easy pickings. They were quickly taught otherwise as their intestines spilled to the ground. The last raider, seeing the quick work she made of her comrades, decided to turn tail and retreat.

After both Donnigan and Wolf had recovered mentally, they acknowledged the fact that they were three people down and needed to replenish their numbers. Which is why they accepted the request for safety by a young woman being chased by raiders. She grabbed her bolt-action rifle and took cover behind some rocks, while Donnigan and Wolf prepared for battle. For the second time in the same amount of days, they were raided. And it did not go as well as last time. The person they had guaranteed safety was downed in combat, as well as Donnigan. Seeing an opportunity for some new recruits, they began to kidnap both of them. They made off with the woman, but Wolf wasn't about to let the only other person she new get dragged away. She lunged at his would-be kidnapper with unusual dexterity for her age, stabbing him repeatedly until he let go of Donnigan. They had survived the attack, but were not better, and arguably worse, than before.

One night, the two of them heard a crash near them. At first they feared for the worst. It could be mechanoids. Or more raiders. Or, worst of all, another cargo drop of cloth clogging up their stockpile. To their relief, it was none of those three. Instead, it was a woman, groaning in pain from various cuts and bruises. Donnigan, being the only one able to doctor at all, took her in and tended to her wounds. When she regained her consciousness, she was struck by the hospitality of the two, and offered to join them in their hopeless quest to survive. Hesitantly, they agreed to take care of her, as long as she was willing to work. Grateful for this, she introduced herself as Roehricht. She grew up much like Tilat did, navigating the narrow passageways of the cave complex she was raised in. One she became an adult, she escaped the confines of her underground home and became involved in an interplanetary martial arts cult, where as well as training in that field, she evangelized about it to others as well. She became extremely good at using melee weapons as well as convincing others to join her, and had a burning passion for both activities as well. She seemed like a great contribution to the group. But something was off about her. Wolf had seen people like her before. She could see better than them. She was faster, more nimble, despite having no obvious cybernetic enhancements. Then it struck her. She was under the influence of Luciferium. She had seen it many times during her life on a glassworld. People desperate for a temporary edge in combat would take it, ensuring that they won the fight, but at an unfathomable cost. Later on Roehricht confirmed this, telling them about her dwindling supplies of the stuff and how they would need to be replenished soon.

The SNA, hearing about Clayton's recent struggles with raiders, decided to send them a group of 15 strong, well-armed troops to help them. Well after said raiders had done their business and left. The gesture was appreciated, but the timing was not.

With only one pill of luciferium left in the group's possession, they decided to crack open an ancient ruin in the hopes of finding more. And more they did find. 6 more pills, to be exact. Not exactly the mother lode, but enough to keep her going for a few more weeks. And there was also a dormant bug hive in there. With bugs included. Two spelopodes and a megaspider, to be exact. Roehricht and Donnigan charged on over to smash the bugs, while Wolf stayed behind and made potshots. Except she hit one of the cryosleep pods. Immediately, all hell broke loose. The bugs managed to down Donnigan and Roehricht, but were no match for 4 angry people who had just woken up. But after the bugs were dealt with, they turned their attention to Wolf. Well, two of them did. Well, those two actually started to attack the base for no reason. One walked outside and bled to death, and the last one just wandered around. Before the two attackers could do any serious damage, however, Wolf took the fight to them, killing them both. The sole survivor just walked off, hoping for a better life in this strange, unfamiliar world. Wolf checked on Donnigan and Roehrict, and she knew that while they weren't beyond saving, she couldn't do anything about them at this time. So instead, she put them both into the cryosleep caskets, in the hopes that one day someone might be able to save them. With this done, Wolf headed back to base and laid down to nurse her wounds.

[Names are for the Weak]

After getting healed in debug mode so that the series wouldn't end abruptly miraculously recovering from her wounds, Wolf's work was cut out for her. Her other two friends were stuck in cryosleep, so she had to take care of the colony all by herself. All the cooking, all the cleaning, all the repairing, and nobody to help her. The possibility of a raid happening made her situation even bleaker.

One day, while cooking, she received a desperate plea for help from a man being chased by one of the local tribes. She considered leaving him to his fate, but she needed the help. With a reluctant sigh, she offered him some help. The first thing she did was tell him that there was a plasteel knife in a giant sandstone structure with cryopods, and instructed him to pick it up. As it so happened, he was quite handy with a melee weapon, and couldn't stand the thought of shooting things from a distance. Wolf herself grabbed an assault rifle one of the previous occupants of the cryopods had left behind, and positioned herself behind one of the sandbags that the colony had built for defensive purposes. Once all that was handled, the two got into battle positions, readying themselves for battle. However, this was well outside the target the tribespeople had envisioned for themselves, which was the base itself. As a result, they had to take the fight to the tribesmen. Wolf dispatched the attackers from a distance using her assault rifle, while the man she was rescuing went in close and killed them with his knife. At the end of it all, there was only one tribal left standing, who was promptly captured. The man then introduced himself as Julio Trule, who had arrived on the planet the same way that she did: via the ship crash. As a child, he was part of a relatively militaristic culture, which trained children in the art of survival and military life in anxious preparation for war with West Borea. Once SHTF on his homeworld, he managed to seek shelter in an underground luxury bunker, where he used the hydroponics garden available to him to grow healroot, for those who preferred a "natural" treatment for their ailments. As a result, he was a qualified doctor, or at least as qualified of a doctor as one could get on a rimworld. Apparently, his son, Donnigan, snuck out of the vault for reasons known only to him. Julio, distraught at his son's disappearance at first, summed up the courage to look for where his son went. He eventually tracked him back to the glitterworld ship, where he hoped to re-unite with him at last. Upon hearing that his son was alive and well, and in fact in the area in a cryopod, he was positively elated. That elation soon faded as he retrieved him and found Donnigan in bad shape. Julio managed to drag him to a bed and bandage his wounds before he could bleed out. He thanked Wolf for the information and looked forward to when Donnigan would regain consciousness.

Once he did wake up, Donnigan was almost overcome with emotion when the first thing he saw was his father, standing over him with a smile. He didn't remember him having purple dreadlocks, but it was a wasteland fashion during his caravaneer days. The two exchanged their stories and hugs, happy that they were re-united at last. It would have been a pretty sappy scene overall if a cold snap and toxic fallout didn't arrive at the same time to spoil the mood. And the mood wasn't the only thing it spoiled. The potato crops died as a result of both the cold and the radioactive dust falling from the sky. A special roof had to be constructed to shield everyone from the dangers of the sky. Cabin fever started to eat away at the sanity of the three.

Just as well, a raid helped to break up the monotony. 3 people attacked, armed with a shotgun, molotovs, and EMP grenades. Just then, the tribal prisoner that had been captured in the previous raid got angry that he didn't get his daily meal. He promptly turned dark green and increased his muscle mass to a degree that should be impossible, perhaps a mutation acquired from exposure to the toxic fallout. With one mighty punch he broke down the steel door of his cell, blowing it to smithereens. He then focused his attention on the three raiders approaching the group. At this point he was just a regular human again, and had far wimpier punches compared to what he had been capable of only moments before. He was eventually downed and died a fiery death courtesy of the Molotov raider. Meanwhile, with the raiders weakened from the prisoner escaping, short work was made of them. Wolf and Donnigan shot down one, while Julio killed the other two, with the last man meeting his demise while fleeing. They had earned the right to live another day.

One night, another escape pod crashed near the group. Julio managed to save the man, who immediately asked to join them once he had been laid in his bed. Shocked at getting such a rapid response before he even got the chance to tend his wounds, he said yes out of sheer disorientation. Going by the his nickname Fish, he told a bit of his life story. As a child, his parents owned a small shop that he had to take care of when they were gone for business reasons, which was quite often. He knew a thing or two about persuading people to buy things at higher prices than they were actually worth. As an adult, a faction arose on his planet called the Norg, which sought to assimilate everyone into a robotic hive mind. Of course, he was having none of that, and joined a luddite resistance group that was committed to the destruction of the Norg. During one raid in a spaceship, the battle went south for him and his comrades, forcing him to abandon friends in order to reach the escape pods before they could get caught and assimilated. He was certainly a welcome addition to the group, but something was...off about him. He fortunately wasn't on luciferium like Raehricht, but something about him bothered the others. For one, he was strangely not affected by emotion when talking about close friends dying brutally in front of him, and had a rather disturbing fascination with fire. He also got irritable about the fact that the barracks weren't stunningly lavish. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and was accepted as a member of The Lost.

[Names are for the Weak]

FYI: I might not post tomorrow. I have something going on tomorrow. Also, sorry that today's episode was a wee bit shorter than usual. I had less time to record.

[Names are for the Weak]

Sorry about today's episode being late!

The rotting animal corpses from the toxic fallout began to overfill the dumping area, producing an unbearable stench that probably would have broken several sanitation codes elsewhere. In addition, the food in the freezer was becoming low to a concerning degree. The Lost began to wonder how much longer they could survive the radioactive dust, fearing that food would run out well before it ended. Fortunately, such fears never came to manifest in reality. The last of the dust began to settle, making it safe to farm, hunt, and forage again.

Unfortunately, they weren't quite out of the woods yet. Both Wolf and Donnigan caught the plague, which was a problem for a number of reasons. One, it was the disease that wiped out an absurd amount of Europeans back in Earth's ancient history. Two, they couldn't quite focus, with the disease reducing their consciousness somewhat. Third, medicine was best conserved to be used to bandage wounds, and instead had to be used to treat their disease. To make matters worse, they were hit by another raid. They were able to fight them off once again, but not before a guy with molotovs burnt some of their stuff. Fortunately, none of the luciferium was lost, and in fact some more was taken by a raider with the need, but it was less than optimal all the same. In the meantime, Wolf and Donnigan continued to receive treatment, but they barely survived.

Some visitors from a faction calling themselves the Northwestern Ewinawa came to investigate how Clayton was doing and make themselves at home. Fish, since Roericht was stuck in a cryopod until a substantial amount of luciferim could be amassed, took up the job of endearing themselves to the visitors. He was rather charming and knew how to get on everyone's good side. However, by the time that they left, their visitors were left with a rather bad impression of their colony. Nobody knew why. They had food and provided medical care to those who needed it. They all fell for Fish. They even graciously gave them a place to sleep on the ground that was cleaned quite often at once a month! Clearly, they were just biased against them. Meanwhile, business continued as usual. One of their alpacas gave birth to a cute baby alpaca, who was torn apart by a hungry lynx a few days later. Such is life on the rim. In addition, some huskies joined the colony, who could be bred to attack raiders, if nothing else. Wolf, still struggling with the grief of her son's presumed death, started walking around aimlessly, since she had snorted the last of the yayo for similar reasons.

One day, the town received a transmission offering to give the location of another item stash in return for silver. Knowing what happened to last such an offer was taken up, as well as lacking the capabilities to send silver to them, they refused. However, after that, a different offer was given to them. If the could clear out a bandit camp plaguing one of the local outlander towns, they would be rewarded with a considerable amount of silver and improved relations. As to this request, more thought was given. Obviously, they lacked the capabilities to take care of the problem at their current state, but that wasn't to say that that couldn't be remedied in the future. It was put on the "maybe later" list.

Clearly, the Black Death was becoming as trendy as it was back in medieval times, as Clayton's resident doctor, Julio, caught the plague himself. Having weakened consciousness, he couldn't treat himself as well as he could treat Wolf and Donnigan. As a result, he had a harder time fighting the plague than his two patients, and had an even closer shave than even they did. But at the end of the day, he still survived, which couldn't be said for everyone who comes down with it, unfortunately. Meanwhile, yet another escape pod crashed near them, whose debatably fortunate occupant was rescued and given the second best treatment the colony could offer. After regenerating enough blood to walk and perform other basic functions, he clambered out to forge his own path to what he fantasized would be fame and fortune on this new world, but more likely mauling by a hungry bear or sadistic pirates. As this was happening, a new project was underway. A stonecutting table was made at long last, which Donnigan used to cut stone blocks for purposes of building stuff. And stuff was indeed built. A rec room and a private bedroom, to be exact. The people of The Lost finally decided that they were tired of sleeping in the same room and started a project on giving everyone a room to themselves. Some debate was made over what to do with the old barracks once they were phased out, with some wanting to completely deconstruct it and other arguing that it should be repurposed as a medbay.

It seemed that word was spreading amongst the animal kingdom that Clayton was a safe haven for animals, because they were visited by some alpacas, some huskies, and now a herd of cats. Apparently, some talented individual learned the secret to farming cats, but for some reason released them or lost them. Either way, the town of Clayton had a cat colony on its hands. At first, they were taken aback by the influx of felines, but eventually the fact that they killed and brought them small animals to eat was heartily appreciated. Of course, future generations of cats may prove to be a problem in the future, but at the present was a blessing. While all this was happening, yet another escape pod crashed near them. Because The Lost are an altruistic group that seeks to save everyone they can, this man was no exception to that rule. After his wounds were bandaged and he came to again, the rescue offered to join the colony. With more people always being appreciated, his offer was taken up. The man addressed himself as Austen. As a child, he lived the high life of a music star. He had it all - wealth, fame, fans. He had connections that a top politician could only dream of. But none of this satisfied him. Indeed, he started to hate it. As an adult, he experienced a profound philosophical shift and pulled a Shia LaBeouf, giving up everything he had for a more fulfilling life. In this case, he worked as a common man would, serving alcohol and listening compassionately to the drunk ramblings of broken people. While not as glamorous as his previous occupation, he nevertheless preferred this more aesthetic lifestyle. In fact, if anything, he looked forward to a hard life on this rimworld with these tough people. He was also a night owl, allowing the colony to theoretically work around the clock. He knew some medical skills, and was as good at socializing as Fish. But the thing he really cared about was art. He was creative and had the potential to become a great artist in the future. Shame that he refuses to do haul or clean.

Speaking of aesthetic lifestyles, it seemed that Donnigan and Wolf needed some better hygiene skills. This can be inferred from the fact that both of them caught the flu. And it wasn't even flu season. First the plague, now this. And to add insult to injury, the last of the proper medicine had been used to cure Julio of the plague, forcing them to use the stores of healroot that they had been squirelling away for this purpose. It did the job in a literal sense, but it wasn't quit as good as the industrial stuff that came with them. They were still cured of the flu eventually, but it was far harder than it would have been, with Wolf having it especially hard due to having a weak immune system because of her age. After that was dealt with, another problem cropped up - food. Sure, they had the cats bringing in some small game, but it wasn't quite enough. And Julio couldn't quite bring himself to cooking the bug meat they still had from the ancient danger. That's when they got a godsend in the form of a cargo ship bringing in fresh rabbit meat. Sure, it wasn't a huge amount of food, but it was enough to keep them going. Yet another transmission was received by the group about yet another item stash. But this time, the local leader was kind enough not to make them cough up money for the coordinates. Instead, the full information was given to them as to where it was, what was guarding it, and most importantly, what it was guarding. For some reason, some guy somehow got an AI persona core, put turrets around it to defend it, and left it for the group brave enough to take it. The Lost knew what had happened to Slimy and 83. But the primary difference between this and that situation was that they didn't know the dangers of investigating the item stash. They did. A healthy debate blossomed as to whether or not they should take the core, one that had to be settled in the next two weeks.

[Donnigan]

I vote we go for it!  Of course, with proper managing, we could probably nick some things or people, if we want.

[JimJammer89]

I also say that we go for it, preferably after some sniper rifles are aquired. They do have a longer range than turrets, right? If not, then maybe use some one with a personal shield as a distraction.

I also vote for screenshots.

[Slimy_Slider]

Speaking from beyond the grave, I vote to try it. Even if something goes wrong, at least I'll get some better company than 83. Screenshots also sound good.

[Names are for the Weak]

I also say that we go for it, preferably after some sniper rifles are aquired. They do have a longer range than turrets, right? If not, then maybe use some one with a personal shield as a distraction.

I also vote for screenshots.

How do I insert screenshots?

[Names are for the Weak]

By the way, I'm seeing a movie with my dad for Father's day, so I won't have any time to put up another episode. Screenshots, maybe.

[Names are for the Weak]

The beginning of the end started with a plea for help for a tribesperson being pursued by pirates. Her son had been killed already, and while she wanted to see him again eventually, that time was not now. Since manpower was always something that was needed in Clayton, they accepted. As it so happened, a local outlander union sent them some help with the raiders, so that The Lost didn't actually have to fight.

Anyway, the fight was won by the good guys, the Northwestern Ewinsia. It seemed like a clear-cut good ending. So what went wrong?

Well, one of the fighters on the outlander side was downed, but not killed, during the fight. The Lost, wanting to help their helpers, decided to rescue him and tend to his wounds. However, the Northwester Ewinsia mistook this for them capturing him, and subsequently declared it as a declaration of war. As it so happened, they were also well-armed and numerous. Outclassed and outnumbered, the fight was depressingly one-sided. With machine-like efficiency, they were cut down like wheat and left to bleed out, while all the colony animals they could find were shot and killed. Eventually, the colony was left empty save for a few cats that had escaped unmolested.

Since cats have no concept of mourning over humans, they simply ate the corpses of their former food dispensers, viewing this as one last filling of their bowls, so to speak. Eventually, they populated the area entirely with cats, creating a colony of rather considerable size. With larger numbers came more ambition, and soon they were hunting in packs, killing boars, deer, muffalos, and eventually, even humans. When the Jackals of Blood came back for another raid, instead of being shot at behind sandbags like they were expecting, they were swarmed by hungry cats who compensated for their pathetic claws with numbers. The only survivor managed to crawl away missing both legs, which were torn off by particularly feisty felines. Eventually, people learned to avoid that place, not wanting to be swarmed by an army of otherwise cute animals.

But the cats were not content to live and let live. After 1000 years of waiting and evolving, they wanted more than just to occupy a 300*300 area of land. Soon, reports spread of an army of sentient cats swarming the world. Of course, such reports weren't taken seriously at first. Sentient cats? Really? But alas for the humans of Nova Sheratan, they were all true. All the warring factions of the planet teamed up in a desperate, last-ditch effort to resist the cat menace. But it was too late. The nail in the coffin for everyone was when the cats learned how to tame wargs, amazingly deadly, genetically-altered wolves created for military purposes. With such a force on their side, the war unofficially ended with victory for the cats. The few humans who survived were used either as slaves or livestock, sometimes both.

One day, a friendly AI calling itself Charles Whitestone landed on the planet, its sole purpose being to evacuate people from the horrible conditions of the Rimworlds. However, it was programmed to accept any kind of intelligence onboard, not just humans. Exploiting these parameters, the cats chose the best of their race, as well as bringing aboard enough of their kind to maintain a viable population. Wargs too. Can't forget those. After this was done, the chosen ones entered the cryosleep caskets, while the launch procedures were activated. The ship rose into the air, about to spread the glorious cat civilization across the galaxy.

Well, I can't say I had as much fun doing this as I did in the past, I have to be honest. I probably won't be doing another one in the future, and if I do, it'll be a while. In the meantime, if you want to try this yourself, feel free to do so with whatever quirks you want to add. I made a custom scenario for this purpose, if you just want to go vanilla. http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=875765741
I hope I see you all again, though hopefully not bleeding out in the wreckage of an escape pod.

[Names are for the Weak]

Screenshots!

The colony.

The guest room.

My best reconstruction of Subject 83.

My best reconstruction of Slimy.