yodaman888

Sorry for double post this revision is much better This story is from a little-known MMO called Shores of Hazeron, to truly appreciate this tale some background information is required Shores of Hazeron is what a deranged madman might get if they combined Sim City, Freelancer, and Spore all in a first person perspective in which you build the cities, you have to walk around the cities. You design your space ships (which only a madman would fly) which includes the shape, room designation, and equipment placement such as capacitor banks and last but not least the consoles which include helm, sensors, fire control, engineering, teleporter, and med bay. To actually fly the ship you have to walk to the helm and pilot it (if you are some kind of peon) or you can order your crew (read: expendable) which can be bots or other players (Jolly Cooperation!). When you start the game you can found your own empire or join an existing one. I chose to found my own empire because the existing empires at the time were all extremely xenophobic and the master race won't conquer the stars by itself. The galaxies, yes galaxies are proceduraly generated and no two planets are exactly alike. The tech tree of the game requires certain quality resources to get any decent ship into production. AND SO OUR TALE BEGINS: I had recently stabilized the current region on my planet, the local carnivorous fauna (giant centipedes with human faces twisted into grotesque grins, Emperor save us) were finally put down thanks to the Kalashnikovs and shotguns (The Emperor protects.) and the recent peasant revolt was stopped after I had lowered taxes to a mere 50% of my populaces total income (and killed the dissidents. GLORIOUS GENEROSITY!) Even so, as the situation stood, things were still dire, I lacked a critical resource in a decent quality. Oil, sweet black gold, without oil my inferior plastics were holding back the production of components necessary to build circuits or computers advanced enough to create energy weapons. So I did what and (In)sane Emperor would do and began construction on a space ship that could take myself to the moon, surely rich in oil. There were casualties of course, several failed prototype spaceships were made. Some never made it off the ground and some ran out of fuel to be left drifting in space, some even flew right into the sun. Eventually a successful space "ferry" was made and loaded with all the things necessary to create a self-sustained colony, (concubines and ammo, a true tyrant needs nothing else) and with their finest pilot at the helm, non other than the God-Emperor myself. I took to the stars. Unfortunalty on my way to the moon I came under attack by space pirates (AI-controlled hooligans.) I guess throwing all those ships into the sun alerted them somehow.(who knew?) My expeditionary ship was of course unarmed. The entire point of this expedition was to obtain weapons grade oil. So I commanded another lesser man than I (AI crew member) to take the helm and line up with the enemy ship, unfazed that alien life did indeed exist. I loaded my trusty Kalashnikov with a fresh clip and opened the airlock (explosive decompression be damned) and opened fire, what choice did I have? After emptying many clips and sustaining heavy damage to my ship (flying coffin.) The enemy ship was obliterated (reports indicate the craft was LEGO in origin) and we continued our doomed voyage towards the moon. I still remember that day enough weapons grade oil was found to supply the entire solar system and my conquest of the cosmos could finally begin. *Additional editing and parentheses (REMEMBER MY SACRIFICES) provided by the empire's late centauric chief-advisor and part-time presidential mount. (You read that correctly.)* * Editor was executed at dawn for "Failure to execute the Emperor's 'sick tactical maneuvers'"*

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