Having boarded the dreadnought, Fires of the Emperor, we have a side scene as we feel a sense of disquiet and change. It’s like we’re recompiling and assembling an out-of-sequence memory set. We’re in a fight, in our frames. There’s a sense of dread. We’re tearing through hostile contacts. An externally-imposed sense of calm comes over us.
We resolve onto the battlefield. We’ve been here before – it’s the wasteland. Again, we’re badly damaged. Many of our upgrade systems have been destroyed. The battlefield is littered with wreckage. All we can sense from our enemies is their hostility toward us (and vice versa).
It’s day. I don’t want it to be day. I want it to be night so we can see stars and Janus can calculate stellar drift to tell us when we are.
I roll a 2. Consequence: I blink out and am separated from Janus. From Echo’s perspective, it looks like I’ve rippled out through a gateway like the enemy frames we’ve observed. But where I am, it’s night.
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