Try the new AI-powered Infinite Story.

The Galactic Adventures of Pierce Darkblade

You feel that even though you are no longer obligated by the will of the Galactic Alliance, the current mission of helping a planet in need is a worthwhile cause. And your already in the area anyway.

Your ship goes into orbit around Freevus, a snowy world with a population of approx. 1 billion Freevians. A race adapted for the cold, they have thick skin and are capapble of radiating heat through their pores. The average height of a Freevian is 6foot5, so they are generally taller than humans.
The Pachyderm enter orbit and the ship begins making strategic food drops at Freevian refugee camps. Even high in orbit you can see the severe damage the meteors have caused, direct impacts on major cities have left smoldering craters miles in diameter.
After making the food drops, the next objective of your mission is to help the Freevians build a planetary shield that will protect the planet from future meteorite impacts. These planetary shields are standard on most civilized worlds and its time for the Freevians to catch up.
The Pachyderm lands at the space port in the capital city, which has been spared by the meteors, as you descend the docking ramp with your best tech officers, you are greeted by a bitter cold wind and snow.

"Welcome to Freevus!" A high ranking Freevian greets you, garbed in a thick purple hooded robe.

"I am Defense Minister Reegon, i'm here to take you to the council chambers to thank you for your generous actions.

"We still have a job to do." you reply.

"Yes yes in due time, in due time. Please let us show you around first so you can get a better understanding of whats going on here on Freevus."

You glance back at your tech officers who shrug at the defense ministers request. All you really need to do is install the shield, you dont have to meet the planets leading council; but perhaps they can shed some light on the severity of the situation.

As the snow begins to accumulate around you, large hovering shovel-bots begin to shovel a path in front of you toward the council chambers. The defense minister glares impatiently through slitted neon orange eyes, waiting for you to do something.
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