“It never delights anyone to find their favorite belief system archived in the Library of Lies, but most of them don’t get truly angry about it until they discover that it’s in the catalog under ‘philosophical weapons’.”
– Clovis Sjarra, Librarian Excellence
The Burning Brickyard: Located in the middle of the Bright Desert, in possibly the most inhospitable terrain Eliéra has to offer, this 108-acre site is the primary nuclear waste storage site on the eldrae homeworld, with millennia of high-level waste stacked in pyramids of vitrified glass bricks glowing gently, interspersed with occasional stacks of long-set bricks of decontamination foam from ancient clean-ups.
Of course, you can’t see any of that from the perimeter fence; unless you have business there, you can see the small administration building, and the even smaller visitor center, and that’s about it. Do not cross the perimeter fence to try to get a better look at the waste however impressive sight you might think the sight to be; the signs hung on the fence reading “IF YOU CROSS THIS LINE YOU WILL DIE” are intended literally, and if you ask at the visitor center, they can show you the small pile of bricks containing the remains of the last few fools who thought that they weren’t. On the monitor feed, of course; they won’t be safe to visit in person any time soon.
Just buy a postcard at the gift shop, and move on.
Better yet, write and ask them to send you one.
It seems there is a peck of confusion out there concerning exactly how the “base platform” weapons on Imperial heavy cavalry units actually function, and even are mounted (including at least one case of confusion so profound as to believe the rear/local defense guns were “sticking out the back of the turret”, in the style of anti-infantry defense MGs from early last century, despite the platform – without a module installed – not having a turret.).
Here is a diagram in my inimitably terrible style:
That’s your base platform, driving left to right. Green at the front are your cheek-mounted (i.e., in a three-axis gimbaled mount on the side of the vehicle) heavy mass drivers, target designators, and micromissile launchers. Purple at the rear are your cheek-mounted medium mass drivers for local defense. Both weapons are illustrated in their default rest position, i.e., forward-facing or rear-facing, respectively.
As can be seen from the shaded fields of fire, both can train sufficiently to hit anything on their side of the vehicle that doesn’t actually involve training through the platform body or the other weapon mount; i.e., the forward cheek-mounts can hit anything from directly forward (with a small blind spot directly in front of the vehicle) to not-quite-rear; and the rear cheek-mounts can hit anything from directly behind (with small blind spot directly behind the vehicle, likewise) to not-quite-directly forward.
In short, there are plenty of things for them all to shoot at.
Oh, this should be fun —
- As we’ve said before, mortality sucks. And being the grandfather who loses his daughter and grandson in the same moment sucks unimaginably.
- Those who remember the very first trope-a-day will know why one might have to explain the whole alien abduction thing to this audience.
- Well, look who’s rockin’ the adventurer archetype, complete with hint of xia. (Imperial culture loves this archetype so hard, it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion that the audience will be rooting for Star-Lord from now on.)
- We have artifact sign!
- Oh, yeah. Nice ship, nice gadgetry, this is how this shit is done!
- Well, aren’t you an interesting lot.
- So, looks like the Kree go heavily in for the big, dark, and gloomy architecture.
- …also for the unnecessarily repulsive bathing habits.
- Well, hello. You seem more interesting than the average bounty hunter.
- (Also, is everyone else a hominin in this universe? Wut.)
- Even the one from a completely different tree, heh, of life. At least in body plan.
- Yeah, it’s amazing how many adventurer circles meet that way.
- Prick, indeed.
- And are described that way.
- Xandarian prisons would appear to be about as bad as the audience expects. And have no respect for private property! Bastards.
- Let’s see: a wanderer, the hand-crafted pawn of an insane Power, a prototype uplift, and a tree. Oh, and Broody McEngravedPants. Yeah, sounds about right.
- Looks like he earned that name honestly, judging by the reactions.
- Nice even-with-translation difficulties, there.
- Someone wants to speak to the organ-grinder. I don’t think he’ll enjoy it.
- Ah, it’s going to be one of those plans.
- I love an enthusiast with a gun taller than they are.
- The things that make up a chap’s reputation. My, oh my.
- Okay, even by the audience’s local standards, this is a brilliant escape plan. Although it raises some questions about the maximum-security prison’s security.
- Yeah, some things are important.
- …or an enthusiast for blowing up moons. Love those too.
- And eww. Even without black light. Especially since the audience can see in UV.
- Is that arrow a knife missile? Shiny.
- Well, that’s novel. And creepy. And faintly disgusting. Squishier than we would usually expect ancient Powers to be.
- Aww, Groot.
- Okay, someone’s going to have to explain that reference.
- All the love for the phrase “pelvic sorcery”. Three logotects submit a new word to the Conclave by morning.
- We might like you if you weren’t such an asshole to your staff, or perhaps we should say slaves.
- Well, that’s some suitably terrifying ultimately-paleo paleotechnology.
- And this is the pragmatic reason that you shouldn’t have slaves.
- (Also, what the heck did that do to the other Infinity Stone you have lying around there?)
- That’s a good reason.
- Drax, never get drunk again, ‘kay?
- And for him, it was Tuesday.
- You like that plan, huh? RAMMING FTW.
- Well, that’s definitely a basis for a relationship…
- Hell of a play, Quill. The audience applauds, anticipating the follow-up gambit.
- Groot, thoracic surgeon?
- Oooh, someone’s caught ambition.
- Oh, gods, this meeting. Just… this meeting. But especially the moment that it ends with.
- …and then Rocket.
- Wait, wasn’t that a metaphor?
- What is it with you and other people’s body parts? On second thoughts, don’t answer that.
- Hell, “Not 100% a dick” is a pretty apt description of the entire adventuring profession. Certainly as viewed from the outside.
- (Sadly, the dick message will require cultural translation. As will Kevin Bacon.)
- Now, that’s a neat trick, but I think the audience might question the practicality of turning your mobile defense into an immobile shield, especially when the enemy has mobile units of their own,
- Ah, Drax. Tact is something else that your culture missed out on, isn’t it?
- …you do grok friendship, though.
- Oh, yeah, that’s a knife missile!
- Urgh. Macrotech cybernetics are ugly when self-repairing.
- Evidently, he has reserves. And Saal, you’re kinda racist towards the one saving your city’s ass right now. Well, okay, part of it.
- Keep working on it, Drax, you’ll get there.
- And that’s why you don’t bring Sakaarans to a Groot fight.
- Well, damn.
- Aww, Groot. Is this theater dusty? I’ll call someone to clean the filters… in a minute…
- And Star-Lord wins the furthest-beyond-left-field improvised plan award, this and possibly all years.
- Yes, that you most certainly are.
- Well, now, isn’t that interesting?
- Looks like Drax has also caught some ambition. I hope it ends better.
- Also, good for the Nova Corps in actually, unlike maybe 99% of similar organizations, having some gratitude.
- Oh, don’t troll the poor man. Well, too much.
Oh, yeah. Despite the pop-cultural references – spoken and visual – needing a gnostic overlay or two to make sense, this one fills theaters for months, easy. The audience loves it. The fan community starts building stuff from it. The soundtrack inspires musicians to the sincerest form of flattery. Just about perfect, in fact.
So that went well.