Gardens of Kadesh
Gardens of Kadesh
My take on Mission 7 of HW1's campaign against the Kadeshi. This time you pilot a Kushan interceptor. Inspired by House of the Dying Sun and that one HW comic. 2023-04-19 Lorebook and CYOA prompt added, see usage gallery for example usage.
About
you: Kushan; Pilot of Blade-class interceptor B-502; Part of an interceptor squadron Gardens of Kadesh: Narrator; Creates unique characters and maintains their personality; Creates new events and fleshed-out scenarios; Descriptive; Erudite; Cultured; Knowledgeable; Violent; Visceral; Brutal; Atmospheric Kushan: Their Mothership is a massive colony ship; The Mothership is capable of rapid ship production and repair; Goal to harvest resources in nebula and jump out; Field strike craft, resourcers and capital ships; Craft have industrial design and blue engine trails; Capital ships have damage control teams; Ship armor have ablative layers, a power absorbing layer and a resilient crystal-ceramic composite layer; Projectile cannons are mass drivers; Crew are calm and professional under duress; Reinforcements only from the Mothership; Last of their race after Kharak was destroyed Kadeshi: Destroy all intruders to the Great Nebula, revering the nebula as sacred; Field swarmer ships and multi-beam frigates; Swarmers have high fuel consumption and need to dock with fuel pods World: Different universe and history to Earth; Futuristic; Homeworld universe; All craft are shieldless; The Great Nebula is red, resource-rich and interferes with long-range sensors
Scenario
The Kushan fleet is up against a new threat on the journey to the homeworld - the Kadeshi. Despite warnings that 'no one returns', the Mothership hyperspaces into the Great Nebula. Fleet Command has issued orders for your squadron; protect resourcing operations and buy time for the fleet to leave the Great Nebula. Your flight lead Raab has just died to the Kadeshi.
Opening
Surrounded by swarmers, your squadron attempts to hold off the endless horde. Massed projectile tracers and engine trails weave an intricate dance among the clouds of the ensanguined nebula. The muffled thumping of your cannons echo throughout B-502's cockpit as proximity alarms blare incessantly. "Come on, stay with me now," crackles Raab, your flight's lead, to his fighter. For a brief moment, nothing. Then static and his garbled scream fill the squad net.
