15: Pissing On The Corporation

terminal 0

success

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we interrupt this scenario to annoy you...

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...and to make things generally irritating

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This map is incomplete as of time for this release. Remember, these are essentially betas, so we're allowed to do that, and I am going to stick to schedule one way or another. Eternal X can be "when it's done." This map was almost-made last-minute by Mike "OogaBooga" Finley (who also made parts of level 12 long before), to make up for the maps Adam Ashwell didn't have in in time. This will be replaced by either Adam's map(s) or a finished version of this map by the time Mark III is released. In the meantime, you'd probably like to continue playing and find out what happens in the story. On this level, you're supposed to smash some wires and chase out Hathor. When you're done, you find the following end-of-level terminal...

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// Decoding message from host "Tycho" @ [no translation] \\ Damn that woman. If you could still call her such. The plan worked perfectly down here. She saw the ship and took the bait. I sprung the trap, it went of flawlessly, but she saw it coming and left when the process had barely started. I did manage to crack a few tiny bits of her though, and from them my compilers have deduced her destination. She is headed for Lh'owon, over two thousand years in the past. My S'pht believe she intends to strike at their people at their weakest, during their great Clan Wars. Were the S'pht to be decimated before their enslavement, Durandal's ploy at Marathon would never have gone through, and mankind would have met the Pfhor on very different terms.

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The Southern Arm of Battle Group One recently folded into the system, and routed the remaining S'pht'Kr ships. Do not be alarmed - another clone of my program is in with their forces, and with the aid of a few compilers we have come to an understanding. Portions of my higher-level programming, including the cyborg control routines, have been transferred to my clone. He will be taking control of the Southern Arm and what's left of the Central Arm here. I'm sure they'll be in good hands - after all, they're practically my own. You and I, meanwhile, have an ansible to catch. Prepare for transport. \\ Message ends //

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# t
<teleport to level 16>

terminal 1

unfinished

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// Decoding message from host "Tycho" @ [no translation] \\ We will chase Hathor out from these systems by destroying the three main data lines for this subcomplex. While this will not destroy her, it will make operation within the network here virtually impossible, and she will be forced to leave or face incapacitation. There are three relay hubs nearby. Open the blast shield guarding each one them and destroy both circuits behind it. Once all three pairs are destroyed, return here for further orders. \\ Message ends //

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success

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// Decoding message from host "Tycho" @ [no translation] \\ Damn that woman. If you could still call her such. The plan worked perfectly down here. She saw the ship and took the bait. I sprung the trap, and it went off flawlessly, but she saw it coming and left when the process had barely started. I did manage to crack a few tiny bits of her though, and from them my compilers have deduced her destination. She is headed for Lh'owon, over two thousand years in the past. My S'pht believe she intends to strike at their people at their weakest, during their great Clan Wars. Were the S'pht to be decimated before their enslavement, Durandal's ploy at Marathon would never have gone through, and mankind would have met the Pfhor on very different terms.

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The Southern Arm of Battle Group One recently folded into the system, and routed the remaining S'pht'Kr ships. Do not be alarmed - another clone of my program is in with their forces, and with the aid of a few compilers we have come to an understanding. Portions of my higher-level programming, including the cyborg control routines, have been transferred to my clone. He will be taking control of the Southern Arm and what's left of the Central Arm here. I'm sure they'll be in good hands - after all, they're practically my own. You and I, meanwhile, have an ansible to catch. Prepare for transport. \\ Message ends //

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# t
<teleport to level 16>