Let's invent FIS!

[SerratedBiz]

Now I just hope that it won't take me another four months to get the next update done.

 

[Pussycat669]

It's all your fault. You turn around yet again and grab hold of the door frame. Maybe what happened tonight was beyond your control, but it was you who brought all these people together and you’ll be damned if you abandon even one of them to these devils. Not if you can help it. Steeling yourself for whatever may lie ahead, you pull yourself inside.

***

The lab, Klaus’s former hobby room for his toy railway, is in fairly good shape, all things considered. Parts of the equipment that was placed on the table in the centre have fallen to the ground and a few test tubes are broken, their content spilled. The most damage, however, has been done to the modelled line of hills, which had been too bulky to fit through the door and is now leaning at the wall on the other side of the room. In front of it, lying face down in a considerable large pool of blood, you recognize the former student you had been chasing. More to the right, closer to the table, you see Ulrike, most likely unconscious. Her attacker, his hands still mercilessly squeezing her throat, is kneeling next to her and has his back turned towards you. There is a splotch on the back of his head, roughly the size of a fist. It's a grotesque mixture of red strands, dissolving skin tissue, bone and brain matter, all covered in a transparent, slightly greenish substance that you think is pulsating.

You look down on the floor. Stomach acid is burning its way up your gullet and it’s probably only thanks to the connection between your hand and the door frame that you remain standing. Your headache has faded, which can’t be a good sign. The stench must be starting to numb your senses. You need to do something and fast. As if on cue, you spot the bronze trophy lying only one step away from you. When you lean down to pick it up, you catch a short glimpse of Doctor Hansen’s shoes sticking out behind the door. No time for distractions. A plan is forming in your mind as you sneak up on the gigantic figure before you. Your breathing must be as loud as a steam engine by now, but you manage to get close enough for a good swing. You just pray that this will hurt.

Listening to the noise that is produced when marble hits brain is an experience that you will not forget in your lifetime, little as there may be left. It's hard to say whether the intimate view into someone's inner life just a second ago or the sight of Erwin's eyes that are staring through you now is more disturbing. His tortured visage reminds you of a fish that is gasping for air. Several red spots are forming on his chest where Ulrike must have stabbed him but his wounds seem to be of little effect as he begins to stand up.

So much for the heroic part of your plan. You let go of the cup and back off, back to the door. Now that you've got the creature's attention, you should be able to lure it away from Ulrike, if the overdose of adrenaline doesn't kill you first. Everything turns into a blur as you stumble back into the hallway and towards the staircase, hunted by the arrhythmic sound of footsteps behind you. Only as it becomes apparent that you'll need to catch your breath before you can even hope to get up these stairs, you dare to take a quick glance over the shoulder. Surprisingly enough, the creature has fallen behind as Erwin's body is shaken by erratic spasms, but it is steadily closing in on you. Going up turns out to be a painfully slow process and you can almost feel how your initial head start is shrinking during every step of the way. You arrive upstairs with the creature in hot pursuit when a loud bang from the cellar door, followed by the noise of something heavy tumbling down the stairs, brings your chase to an unexpected end. You turn around to see Winfried leaning against the door. He's holding a bloodied piece of tablecloth at his neck and doesn't make the impression as if he'll be able to stand there for much longer. Seeing as you're freshly out of good ideas, you simply grab one of his arms and put it around your shoulder. The exit isn't far.

A sudden explosion rocks the house and almost knocks you both off your feet. One of the porcelain plates drops from the wall and breaks, quiet soundly, which serves as a little acoustic diversion from the loud ringing in your ears. The walls around you appear to bend a few notable degrees. It is during this brief, terrifying moment in which the entire world seems to go under that you crash through the front door.

The outside greets you with a cold breeze which bites at your face but at least the fresh air is helping you to clear your head. Many of the basement windows in sight are lit by dancing flames, a growing inferno where the lab should be.

Oh God, Ulrike.

Change of plan. You point to the parking lot with your free hand and the two of you begin to drag each other into the general direction. The electric light goes out when you're about halfway there, further hindering your progress. You almost slip on the frozen ground but Winfried somehow manages to catch you before you can fall, which makes you wonder who is supporting whom here. Hardly two minutes pass, after you finally made it back to your vehicle, before you get the engine up and running. As you are reversing your car, you make the mistake of actually looking into the driving mirror. In the light of the night, you can make out the outlines of a large man who is, clumsily but stubbornly, following you down the path, his head twisted in an unnatural angle.

You put the pedal to the metal.

***

There must be a guardian angel watching over you. Otherwise there is no way you could have survived these treacherous roads while coughing your lungs out. Now that you're sitting here in the darkness, in the middle of a field at the foot of the mountain, many of those recent events seem almost surreal. Your trembling fingers reach for the inhaler in your pocket. There have been no signs of any pursuers yet but it can't be long before-

Breathe.

The headache has returned though not in full force, thankfully. Your train of thought is back on track. Blind panic isn't going to help you and certainly not your fellow passenger. You throw a concerned look at the man on the back-seat. Winfried hasn't uttered a single word during your whole escape. You just wish you could see if he's still awake. So far he didn't react when you tried to talk with him. Bringing him to a hospital would be the obvious course of action but that is a path which is no longer available to you. Driving back home is also out of question. There's only one place that you can think of, a small apartment that you've purchased in secret for such an occasion. You never got a chance to tell anyone about it, so it should be safe although you didn't expect that you would need to use it so soon.

Winfried moans as you set the car in motion. Hopefully, there is enough time left for him.

***

One hour later, inside the apartment’s bedroom. You've done all you could for Winfried, which wasn't much. Some fresh bandages and a resting place was all you could provide for him. The heavy blood loss combined with all his previous ills has left the man in such a weakened state that you fear that he'll not live through the night. You are getting anxious again when you imagine that you may be forced to share these premises with a corpse. Some methodical thinking is in order. First, before you can create all these horror scenarios in your head, you should hide your car in the garage, if you don't want your escape to become a very brief one. You are about to leave the room when Winfried's faint voice calls out to you from the bed.

“Paul.”

You rush over and sit down next to him. He's staring at the naked light bulb above you as his mouth is trying to form the words.

“I,” he swallows, apparently concentrating really hard. “I...”

“Ist schon gut.” [It's all right.] You start to pad his shoulder. “Shhh, ganz ruhig.” [Shhh, stay calm.]

Winfried has closed his eyes. Whether he finally passed out or if he's just collecting strength for a second attempt you can't tell. You shift your attention to the window and the calm night life outside.

Nothing is all right. Even if he really does survive and gets better again, what you still sincerely hope, it doesn't change the fact that the two of you are marked men. They'll be after you, the police, the newcomers, everyone. What can you possibly do? Hide until the dust settles? You've got enough food stored away for maybe a month, even some disguises and money to get more if necessary, but you doubt that they'll need long to find you here. Running away, maybe? But where should you run to? These bloody creature are every-

The thought that you never actually told Winfried your first name enters your mind just seconds too late. Strong arms grab you from behind and you find yourself in a stranglehold that you can’t escape. You gasp as the grip around your throat tightens. For the second time tonight you lose consciousness.

 

[Pussycat669]

'Be whatever you want!'

Who would have thought that an ancient advertising slogan would become the battle cry of today's frustrated generation? History indeed has its humorous moments, although the humour is most likely lost to the once almighty families, as social unrest is tearing at their respective dominions. The Tasteless, a newly formed union of bottom-feeders, outcasts and power hungry upstarts, are on the rise and their mere existence is threatening a political system which, in its present form, has endured for almost a millennia.

Lines are drawn all across the known universe. By now, a second civil war seems inevitable. In these interesting times, securing your own resources is ever more important. Natives everywhere are becoming increasingly weary due to the rising demand for hosts, while petty criminals on the lookout for personal gain and enemy agents from the established families are doing their part to further destabilize the situation.

This is where you come into play. You are a FIS, a forceful intrusion specialist. Your job, though many-sided, can be summed up in three words: observe, infiltrate, neutralize. Vastly outnumbered by his opposition, a FIS relies on a flexible strategy of intimidation tactics, covert operations and surgical strikes to sustain order in his territory. To accomplish the various tasks which are therefore required of him, he must be in excellent condition, both physically and mentally, and independent enough to make momentous decision at a moment's notice without getting prone to corruption. In short, a perfect being. But perfection, as it turns out, is a rare thing in this galaxy, thus compromises have to be made. What all FIS do have in common, however, is that they are each resourceful individuals in their own right, as well as being notoriously underpaid.

Here, on a small planet in the far reaches of civilized space, work is as demanding as ever. Resupplies and new personnel are coming in at a crawling rate and the natives have shown a steady resistance to fully adapt. There are concerns that you will not be able to contain an uprising, if things should take a turn for the worse, but that's the least of your problems as of late. The last assignment you've been given has ended in utter failure and your competence is now put in doubt. On the quest to restore your good name, you'll soon realize that things are not what they seem and that the event which caused your downfall is merely a footnote in a greater scheme. Yet your tireless search for the truth may also hold dangers which could cost you more than just your career.

You are a long way from home, stranger. Better watch yourself.


Who takes the fall?

The Rookie
An orphan's life is anything but a happy one. It's a joyless existence inside a liquid filled tube which keeps you both nurtured and apart from society until you either get adopted into a family as cheap labour or, more often than not, simply rot away. This was supposed to become your fate as well before the Tasteless came and changed everything. No longer would any potential be left untapped simply because of the lack of status. The new wardens in charge were therefore quick to realize that you were gifted. Your natural talent to overtake and manipulate hosts with astonishing ease, no matter how bizarre their physiology, left quiet an impression. A puppet master, as the local natives would call it, though master of synapses seems like a more appropriate title. The discovery of your abilities opened many doors which you didn't even know existed. Your enrolment as a FIS still wasn't without its obstacles, however. Even though you were obviously too smart to end up as just another grunt in the military, the long years of complete isolation had taken its toll on your psyche, not to mention your social skills. It was a great struggle for you to convince the people in charge that you possessed the integrity and strength of character to not let your issues get in the way of your work. They have sent you to this remote location to examine whether this is truly the case. The new, alien environment you now have to face leaves you slightly intimidated, but you are determined that the unique opportunity you've been given will not go to waste. Some people claim that it would have been for the best if you had never left that little jar of yours. Here comes your chance to prove them wrong.

The Mercenary
Unreliable, violent and reckless. These words appear fairly frequently in your personal files. Nothing remarkable for a Bitter, really. The difference lies in the details. For example, it takes quiet an effort to get fired in a family that puts much emphasis on personal glory because of insubordination alone. All your unauthorized solo missions, those 'passionate' questioning sessions and also your bad habit of wasting hosts by the dozens during your escapades had to cross tolerable limits at some point, your obvious success notwithstanding. Betrayed by your own and out of spite, you did something you once thought impossible. The Tasteless were recruiting additional work force for one of their new colonies on some distant rock in the middle of nowhere. You always suspected that the aggressive expansion of these wannabe rebels would eventually lead them to the realization that ideals can't replace qualified employees in the long run. Still, the bonus they were offering was tempting enough, probably intended as a bribe to convert you to their cause. Boy, were they disappointed when they found out a little too late with whom they're dealing with. Most of your fellow pioneers regard you as a loose cannon and treat you as such. They all fail to realize that your actions are directed by dangerous cunning rather than the spontaneous whim of a simple thug. Lucky for you, your department is so understaffed that no one will be able to keep you in check for long. It's high time these pitiful Tasteless get a little demonstration about how the job's done properly.

The Professional
Despite all the bad names that were bestowed on you during your long line of duty, not many would dare to question your efficiency. Neither an outstanding combatant nor even particularly brave, you discovered very early during your career what it takes for a FIS to complete his objectives with style and grace. Namely, an informed opinion and a considerable amount of empathy. Your scientific interest in alien cultures and customs was also a valuable asset on your road to success, though the insatiable curiosity came with a restlessness that you were never really able to overcome. Then again, your downright fanatical perfectionism was usually such a poison to your working environment that you never stayed at one place for long anyway. At least it couldn't negate the fact that your person was always in demand. Jumping from one hot spot to the next, it was only a matter of time until your know-it-all attitude would rub someone important the wrong way. Your dispute with a Bitter nobleman about how to handle things escalated into a duel which, incidentally, lead to his death. Fully aware that his relatives would be sending their assassins after the Tasteless who had insulted their precious family honour, you were left with only two options. Go to a breeding pit and die with your dignity intact or try to get as far away from the central systems as possible in hopes that no one will find you there. After your involuntary transfer, a considerable dent in your once flawless reputation, you have to admit that things could have been worse. The gross carelessness by your peers that you come to witness can be aggravating at times and the reorganisation of the local executive might still require a few tweaks. Your new superior prefers to remain ignorant of your nagging criticism, while also throwing his ego around, but you remain confident that you will, ultimately, have your say in this matter. After all, you know that your ego is bigger than his.

 

[Pussycat669]

Now I just hope that it won't take me another four months to get the next update done.

Sorry, I just write very, very slowly. I'm afraid that isn't going to improve any time soon.

 

[Kz3r0]

I think that many Codexers would be interested in being a FIS.
Oh, I vote for:
The Rookie

 

[CappenVarra]

So, we get to see the other side...

The Professional

 

[grotsnik]

Heh. Intrusion.

The Mercenary!

 

[Stygian Lurker]

My vote also goes to

The Mercenary!

 

[Pussycat669]

Heh. Intrusion.

It's a trashy name, admittedly. A forceful intrusion is what the aliens call it when you take over somebody. Y'know, classic face hugger style, not pretty to watch and actually kinda dangerous if the victim is not either unconscious or restrained. Back in the days, when things were a lot less sophisticated, a FIS was simply a soldier who so much excelled at this that he would be sent behind enemy lines during an invasion to cause havoc and confusion among the natives. It was all for the short term effect in the middle of a battle though, not much finesse required and the fatality rate was fittingly high but most people tended to be a bit more devoted back then. The idea to use FIS for more complicated tasks like intel gathering and aimed misinformation came much later. Today's FIS is more of a police officer than a soldier and is no longer counted as member of a military branch in most families, Tasteless included. Only exception here being the Bitter version, which is probably the closest you'll get to the original since the family mostly relies on a strong military presence rather than subtle administration to uphold order.

I probably could find some better name if I concentrate really hard but it's difficult to think of something else which works on so many levels, other than the most obvious implications.
Anyway, so much for the infodump of today.

Let's talk a bit about gameplay though, since I got a question or two about how you would like your difficulty setting. So far as I've planned it, the whole plot is structured into three days during which you'll get the chance to visit various locations to collect clues (btw grotsnik so totally stole my time limit idea :D). One of these clues you can find is a vital clue which you'll need to accomplish the given goal of the day. Reaching the goal will provide you with a binary choice, much like the one you did before, between pro-human and pro-FIS, which will affect the ending. Failing to reach the goal will end in failure for both and maybe even a game over, if the situation demands it. These vital clues can be fairly obscure, however, so the question is if you want me to emphasize them, so that you know that you got the rest of the day off, basically. On the same note, a vital clue may sometimes unlock a new location you'll need to visit but doing so will end the day outright, which means that some of your free time may go to waste. Should I mark those options (like 'final choice of today')?

I would also like to hear your opinion about the subtitled dialogue. Initially, it was meant as a little gimmick during my first draft where you would play a FIS exclusively and you were able to take damage. The subtitles were meant as what you as the alien would understand and if the speech centre of your host gets whacked, you would have to deal with a rather lackluster translation of what you're hearing. It's still a nice exotic touch, I would say, but please let me know if you should find it rather annoying.

 

[SerratedBiz]

Now I just hope that it won't take me another four months to get the next update done.

Sorry, I just write very, very slowly. I'm afraid that isn't going to improve any time soon.

No problem, the comment was rather aimed at the possibility of the thread having been discarded. Which it apparently hasn't, so it's all cool.

On the topic of choices and gameplay: I vote for Rookie, no marking of end-of-day / vital clues options, and subtitles are fine.

 

[Crooked Bee]

Awesome. My vote goes to The Mercenary.

Also: I'm all for subtitles, but I don't really know how I feel about emphasising vital clues... It's up to you, I'd say.

 

[Pussycat669]

Okey-dokey, the crowd likes it rough.
I'm really curious if the format will work on a forum, we'll see.