Jsc
Disney's Princess
(Closed)
Hilo
Expansion Region, Colonial Space
She was a wet continent on a generally snowy planet. Dew and fog rolling over icy brown dirt. She was an agricultural dominion of the sparse local tribes. Vikings and hillmen with modern technology. A dirty planet that did nothing particularly special either. Hilo held no rare resources, her star was unremarkable, her water was traced with iso-sulfides, and she was rather happily inclined to be ignored by the galaxy as a whole. However, nearer the equator it was warm enough to cultivate the barren tundra for food. So the local peoples had found a way to build a pioneering civilization out here. Hardy folk for a hardy planet. Grunting an' spitting an' all.
Karen's stood out in the middle of Miller's Field. A tribal trading outpost surrounded by dirt roads, muddy farms, and the local traveling sail barges. The dirty habitations were built into the sides of three towering rock formations that marked the flatlands with it's only landmarks for kilometers around. The fog was thick, the air chilly, and the mud was sticky against her boots. Ugh. Gross. Making for a rather uncomfortable day to go out and do your shopping. Fancy enough though? The locals didn't seem to mind the bleh.
"Yo! What's up Blue. Sorry for making you wait. Had to find a good parking place."
Robert's turned with a frown to the brown-haired trooper who came jogging out from the tent village. Greg 'The Bug' Tavor. Her pilot for the day. And boy? Did she hate waiting around for him too,
"Fifteen minutes Bug? Really? ...Look. Nevermind all that. Let's just grab the replacement parts or find somebody who sells them. The quicker we get out of this fog, the better."
"Sure sure. Shopping it is. I'll follow you Blue."
"You have the scanner Tavor. And it's, Commander."
"Oh? Right! Sorry then. Guess you'll be following me. Heh. Commander."
"Wouldn't be waiting around this cesspit for anything else, now would I? ...Come on Lieutenant. Let's go."
The two helmed and armored troopers from Robert's Rangers PMC set off into the market to look for parts. Eager to fix their poor dropship and be on their way. Even more eager to get out of the mud and fog. Bleh.
Hilo
Expansion Region, Colonial Space
She was a wet continent on a generally snowy planet. Dew and fog rolling over icy brown dirt. She was an agricultural dominion of the sparse local tribes. Vikings and hillmen with modern technology. A dirty planet that did nothing particularly special either. Hilo held no rare resources, her star was unremarkable, her water was traced with iso-sulfides, and she was rather happily inclined to be ignored by the galaxy as a whole. However, nearer the equator it was warm enough to cultivate the barren tundra for food. So the local peoples had found a way to build a pioneering civilization out here. Hardy folk for a hardy planet. Grunting an' spitting an' all.
Karen's stood out in the middle of Miller's Field. A tribal trading outpost surrounded by dirt roads, muddy farms, and the local traveling sail barges. The dirty habitations were built into the sides of three towering rock formations that marked the flatlands with it's only landmarks for kilometers around. The fog was thick, the air chilly, and the mud was sticky against her boots. Ugh. Gross. Making for a rather uncomfortable day to go out and do your shopping. Fancy enough though? The locals didn't seem to mind the bleh.
"Yo! What's up Blue. Sorry for making you wait. Had to find a good parking place."
Robert's turned with a frown to the brown-haired trooper who came jogging out from the tent village. Greg 'The Bug' Tavor. Her pilot for the day. And boy? Did she hate waiting around for him too,
"Fifteen minutes Bug? Really? ...Look. Nevermind all that. Let's just grab the replacement parts or find somebody who sells them. The quicker we get out of this fog, the better."
"Sure sure. Shopping it is. I'll follow you Blue."
"You have the scanner Tavor. And it's, Commander."
"Oh? Right! Sorry then. Guess you'll be following me. Heh. Commander."
"Wouldn't be waiting around this cesspit for anything else, now would I? ...Come on Lieutenant. Let's go."
The two helmed and armored troopers from Robert's Rangers PMC set off into the market to look for parts. Eager to fix their poor dropship and be on their way. Even more eager to get out of the mud and fog. Bleh.